AN: The attached image is the entrance to the Alliance capital of Stormwind. It is so named because it is perched atop a mountain and is often assailed by strong winds that buffet the outer walls. There are several layers of walls and natural protection to keep the strong winds from doing any damage to the city itself.
When Erin awoke, it was from a jolt on whatever steed was carrying her through the sky.
The sky?
She looked around and found that she was sitting atop Maldanormu again, speeding through the sky with Kaldrun and Bellendore flying along side. How she had not fallen off was a mystery, but she accredited the bronze dragon's steady flying.
Besides Kaldrun and Bellendore, there was one more flyer, being Redrumei on a winged steed. This steed was no natural horse, but a statue of one made of cobbled gray stone. Where the chunks of the steeds were sealed together, a light blue glow shined from the cracks. Its mane, tail, and wings were also made of this cyan energy, emitting from large cracks down it's back and neck.
Erin came to the sudden, bitter realization that she had no mount with which to fly, and found it awfully unfair.
Maldanormu must have felt her wriggling around, for he craned his neck to look around at her, "Awake, little one?"
"Yeah," Erin stretched, yawning, "Why didn't you wake me up before we left?"
"We made an attempt, but you were completely unconscious. Sleeping like the dead. I thought we should allow you your rest, so we hauled you atop my back and set off."
Erin looked at Red, who glanced over and waved. The former spoke, just loud enough for the dragon to hear, "Where'd she get that fancy horse?"
Maldanormu glanced over, "Won it in a card game, I believe."
"A card game?"
"Indeed."
Erin sat back, as comfortably as she could on the beast's huge scaly back, "Where are we going?"
"Fortunately, we have a short journey ahead. We only recently departed Ms. Venza's home. As you can see by the landscape, we have yet to leave Westfall. Once we cross over into the Elwynn Forest, we will make a stop in the small town of Goldshire for refreshments, and continue on foot to Stormwind, the huge capital city of the human race."
Erin was confused somewhat by the strange names, but was comfortable in knowing that they wouldn't be flying for very long. In fact, it was only a quarter hour later when they flew over a river and the landscape changed considerably from a mid-western scene to a rich green temperate forest. The trees here were a lush green, with a light brown chunks. Almost directly on the other side of the river was a garrison, made of massive grey bricks and looking like something from a fairy tale with knights and... dragons.
That's pretty much what this entire planet is, Erin supposed. Just a fairly tale.
They continued to fly over the trees for another few minutes before reaching a small area of only two buildings on either side of the wide paved cobblestone road.
Circling around a few times, the party landed in a clearing just off the road. Several of the civilians milling about turned to gawk at the five as they landed. Many of those people witnessed a dragon shapeshift for the first and last time in their lives.
Erin watched as Redrumei pulled out a Hearthstone and placed it to her steed's forehead, causing it to dissolve into cyan sparkles and be sucked into the stone's glowing blue center.
The four Azerothian natives sauntered toward the bigger of the two buildings like they owned it, Erin following somewhat sheepishly in the back.
There were three guards in the whole town, if it could be called a town, dressed in armor like that of a medieval knight, wearing blue tabards bearing the golden symbol of a lion's head. One of the guards wore no helm and had a somewhat more decorative crest on his tabard, and Erin marked him as the leader of the three. The presumed leader approached the party directly, right hand resting on the hilt of a spiked mace that hung from his belt.
He seemed in his thirties, with a blond mustache and buzz cut. His voice was gruff and commanding, "Name's Marshall Dughan. Can I help you folks?"
"Just here for some refreshments from the Lion's Pride Inn," said Maldanormu, acting as the group's diplomat, "We're on our way to Stormwind currently."
The Marshall squinted, obviously unsure, "Right then. Well, stay out of trouble, and don't say longer than you need."
Maldanormu waved, "A non-issue. We'll be gone in a blink."
"Uh-huh," grunted Dughan, turning away reluctantly and returning to his post outside of the smaller building, which seemed like a blacksmith shop based on the massive apparatus on the outside pumping hot air into the building's interior, and the smoke billowing from the chimney. And the clanging from the inside.
Redrumei moved smoothly to a woman brushing a horse tied up outside the inn, the larger building, and began chatting. Judging by the reaction of the blonde lady, they knew each other.
"Come, little one," said Maldanormu to Erin, "We shall go gather refreshments from the tavern."
"We'll wait out here, of course," said Bellendore, as Erin and Maldanormu walked off, "Kaldrun and I have a lot of... catching up to do."
Kaldrun, however, had already quietly stalked off to a man in a leather harness and goggles, softly patting a huge beast in a man-made nest. The back half of its body was that of a lion, the front being that of a huge eagle. The gryphon purred happily as its handler pet it. The gryphon-handler seemed to recognize Kaldrun, as did the other gryphon, who snapped playfully at Kaldrun's amulet.
After observing this little scene, Erin passed through the entrance of the inn, and the warm aroma of hard cider, fresh bread, and other delicious scents enveloped her. Also enveloping her was the soft din of chattering tavern-goers. As she exited the foyer and turned the corner into the tavern itself, the first thing to catch her eye was a strongly muscled man of maybe four feet with a huge beard and bald head slowly pushing the arm of another man toward the table upon which they arm-wrestled.
The bald man's muscled bulged, and he had a mirthfully casual expression on his face, while the cords on the other strongman's neck seemed to stand out as totally separate entities.
The dwarf, for that's what the winning man must've been, yawned, sending the men crowding around the competition into a roaring laughing fit.
The dwarf spoke in a thick accent, vaguely Scottish to Erin's ears, "Ye wanna use both hands, lad? I'm gettin' a little booooored."
The human man pushed back harder, and the dwarf seemed startled by the sudden burst of strength. Realizing the threat, the dwarf sent back his own burst of effort, smashing the human's arm against the table.
The dwarf jumped up on the table and bowed, his fans cheering and laughing and sloshing pints around.
"Damn you, Laidir," said the defeated man, red-faced and slumped over in his chair, breathing heavily, "You cheat with your stone arms."
Laidir cackled, "It's not my fault me ancestors were Earthen, Thomas. But these muscles," he slapped one meaty bicep, "All flesh and bone, brother, I promise ye."
"Alright, men," approached a balding middle-aged man of somewhat authoritative posture, "buy something or hit the road. You'll be running me out of business soon."
Laidir hopped off the table and looked up at the old-ish man, "Runnin' ye out? If it weren't fer me meaty arms of fury, you wouldn't have all these men guzzling yer ale all day."
Maldanormu, hands clasped behind his back, cleared his throat politely behind the dusty-haired man of middle age, "Excuse me, Innkeeper Farley."
Farley, the old man, turned around and smiled pleasantly, "Ah, yes. Can I help you, sir?"
The dragon mage gazed around casually, his eyes drifting over the bar and the barkeep behind the counter, "Could we be supplied with enough meat, fruit, and ale for five people? Currency is of no consequence."
Innkeeper Farley bowed, "Of course, sir. Give us some time. Perhaps you would like to sit at a table," he guided the pair towards the large table where all the men were before, for they had all migrated mirthfully outside, "while you wait."
Maldanormu inclined his head slightly, "Indeed, thank you."
With one last bow, the innkeeper walked briskly up to the bar and placed their order, and shouted into the room behind the bar.
"Quite a place," said Erin, speaking for perhaps the first time since arrival, "this Goldshire."
"I concur," Maldanormu said, with a bit of smugness on his tongue, "Usually loud, but not as raunchy as, say, Redridge."
"I think you like to forget that I have no idea what any of these places are," said Erin, smiling.
"Ah, yes. It is odd dealing with an extraterrestrial."
Erin chuckled, "I'm not an extraterrestrial."
"To me you are."
Erin almost shot back, but hesitated before saying, "Huh. I guess you're right. We're both aliens to each other."
"Indeed," said the dragon mage, "So, Erin. Tell me about your home planet."
"Yeah. Earth. I guess there's a lot to tell. But it's a pretty nice planet. No magic stuff or anything like that. We rely on our advanced technology mostly, I guess."
Maldanormu nodded slowly, "I see."
The two continued to discuss each other's home planets, Erin becoming more educated on Azerothian culture and that of dragon's as well. Maldanormu learned of Earth culture, and the conflicts they have that really aren't too different from Azeroth.
Outside, Kaldrun silently brushed the winged beast with a warm familiarity. This creature was Redrumei's, raised by both the elf and the human from an egg, but it had been injured in a battle and rendered unable to fly any great distance. Its will was strong, and both Kaldrun and Redrumei have always felt a close connection to the beast. They named it Unity.
Just across the cobblestone road was Red chatting with a childhood friend, a horse breeder named Kaitlyn.
Bellendore was leaning bitterly against the wall by the entrance to the inn, arms crossed.
After the refreshments were prepared, Erin called the party in and they ate mostly in silence, for none had had a good meal for at least a day.
Towards the end of the meal, Erin spoke up, "So, Kal. Where did you meet Bellendore and Mal and Red?"
Kaldrun put down the half-eaten bread roll, "All three are separate tales, better for a day when we are not pressed for time."
Shut down once again, Erin placed her silverware down on the table and stood, stepping over to the Innkeep, "Do you have a bathroom or something here?"
Farley glanced up from whatever he was staring at on the floor and asked, "A bathroom?"
"Yeah," responded Erin, "Like to take a piss."
"Oh," shot back the Innkeep, somewhat startled by her unladylike vulgarity, "Well, yes we have an outhouse out back."
Erin nodded her thanks and made to leave, but Farley stopped her, inquiring, "Have you stayed at an Inn before?"
Erin glanced over her shoulder, "No?"
"Then perhaps I could interest you in a Hearthstone?"
"You mean one of those little white rocks with the teleporty powers?"
"Ehm," the Innkeep seemed uncomfortable about the informality with which Erin referred to it, "Yes, that. Anyway, yes, if you don't have one, I could supply you for a small fee."
Erin reached in her pocket and pulled out her wallet. She fished through it, asking, "Okay, how much?"
"Ten gold."
Erin blinked, "What?"
"Ten gold pieces, miss."
Looking around, Erin locked eyes with Maldanormu and the mage tossed her a small sack of coins. Erin caught it deftly and handed it to Farley.
"Thank you," said the Innkeep, briefly weighing it before hooking it onto his belt, "I happen to have an extra, unbinded stone, seeing that very few folks come by here for more than a few hours nowadays."
The innkeep reached over and behind the bar and pulled a stone nearly identical to the one Kaldrun used, except the blue swirl was faded, and more of a basic engraving into white stone. Handing the stone to Erin, he instructed, "Clasp it tightly in your hands and say, 'Lion's Pride'."
Erin did so, hesitantly, and a soft blue flash issued from beneath her clasped hands, "Did it work?"
The Innkeeper opened her hands, revealing that the blue swirl had become significantly more defined. Erin's eyes widened, "Cool."
"Quite," said Farley, "Now, as I said before, the outhouse is in the back."
"Thanks, but how do I use it?"
"Oh, uh," the Innkeep sputtered, wiping his brow, "Of course. Uhm, well after you enter the outhouse, you will want to--"
Erin burst out laughing, "No, no, I meant the stone. How are you supposed to activate it or whatever."
"Oh, oh, yes," Farley chuckled, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at his brow, "Simply hold it firmly in one or both hands and focus on this location. You will be transported here magically, but it needs time to recharge, in a sense, so you can only use it once a day."
"Alright, well... thank you."
Erin pocketed the stone and made to exit, but Kaldrun had stood and approached her, "We'll be departing now. We must discuss our plans briefly and then take our leave."
Erin sighed, "Alright then."
She followed Kaldrun back to the table and sat, and they all began to speak in a conspiratorial tone.
"First off," Kaldrun began, "We'll need allies. I have allies scattered all throughout Azeroth, but it would be smartest to gather the full support of the Alliance, first and foremost, no matter my feelings for their new boy-king."
Maldanormu nodded, "I must concur. Having one of the major world powers on our side is paramount. I have many allies as well, particularly in the form of the Dragonflights. The only problem that could arise would be that the Aspects have lost their god-like power, having exhausted it to defeat Neltharion in the past."
"That shouldn't be a problem," said Bellendore, "The Aspects may have lost the majority of their Titan-blessed power, but they and their children are still mighty beasts. The only issue I see is that many will refuse to help. No offense meant, but dragons are known to be stubborn, entitled beings. They may perceive this as a responsibility that they needn't concern themselves with."
Maldanormu waved his hand, "Allow me to deal with that. I can convince at least my own flight, and if Nozdormu is convinced, so too will the others be."
"Right then," Bellendore backed off, moving onto the next point, "I can call upon the Dark Coven, and each of my lieutenants have connections to the Ebon Blade and--"
Bellendore stopped abruptly, and Kaldrun finished his sentence, "The Twilight Hammer."
"What's that?" Erin glanced around, noticing the sudden tension. She looked at Redrumei, who spoke up for the first time. Her face was simultaneously red and devoid of all color.
"Those bastards are some cult, dedicated to ending the world in the name of the Old Gods. They're the reason that the Aspects don't have their power. They're the reason I never knew my father."
Maldanormu cleared his throat, "Due to their affiliations, you can see why associating with them or letting them know our plans could be troublesome."
"Yeah," muttered Erin, "So, we just don't affiliate with them. What's the problem."
"The problem," said Bellendore bitterly, "Is that I'm a high warlock of the Twilight's Hammer Cult. I do not affiliate with them actively, but any movements against them would be enough to unravel hundreds of years of hard work."
"Screw your hard work," hissed Redrumei, "There are bigger things here than your coven!"
"My coven is what has kept the dark forces of Azeroth at bay for hundreds of years," spat Bellendore, "If it weren't for me taking students under my wing and keeping them under control, rogue warlocks and demon hunters and black magi and all kinds of dark forces would be running rampant! If it weren't for me joining the Twilight's Hammer, they would still be a significant force against all life on Azeroth!"
The girl and the old man glared at each other for several long, tense seconds before Maldanormu broke the silence.
"As much as I dislike to agree," said the dragon-mage, turning to Redrumei, "Bellendore's efforts, while unconventional, have brought more good than harm. He keeps many evil forces at bay by taking students under his wing and taming them, so to speak."
Redrumei deflated, "Right."
She was still pretty bitter.
Kaldrun shifted in his chair, "Erin and I will continue to Stormwind to discuss getting help from the Alliance. Bellendore, you will go speak with your Dark Coven and try your best to keep the Hammer from knowing of our plans. Maldanormu, you will convene with your dragon allies and the Kirin Tor, as well, if you can. Redrumei, I would like you to come with me and Erin."
Redrumei nodded, "Seems logical."
The party all rushed out of the inn, said their brief goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Bellendore went south and Maldanormu kinda just... zyooped away.
"So," announced Redrumei, spinning on her heel to face Erin, and offering her hand to be shook, "We haven't really gotten to be introduced. I'm Redrumei Venza, Kaldrun's pet peeve. You are?"
Erin chuckled, shaking Red's hand companionably, "I'm Erin Matthias, Kaldrun's second pet peeve. I'm from Earth."
Red's facial expression flickered, and her brow furrowed slightly, "Earth?"
"Indeed," Kaldrun cleared his throat, "Maldanormu called upon me recently to investigate a rift in the Storm Peaks, which led to...."
The group began to take the northern path of the cobblestone road, ascending a large hill, while Kaldrun and Erin got Redrumei up to speed."
By the time the pair finished their tale, the group had arrived at the massive gates of the capital city.
Stormwind City, in all its glory, was a mighty city that brought memories of the grandest fairy tales to Erin's mind, of knights and dragons and epic battles.
The group passed through the huge gates, onto an also huge bridge. On either side of the probably 20-foot wide bridge were massive statues of, presumably, heroes. An elven woman with a bow and a falcon perched on her arm; a long-bearded mage in regal robes and brandishing a glorious staff; a heavily armored bald warrior with a great-sword sheathed on his back and his helm cradled in one arm; a heavily armored dwarf hefting a great hammer into the sky, his other arm gripping an axe by his side. Finally, at the end of the bridge was another larger-than-life statue of a solemn-looking paladin holding a sword to his chest that was broken half-way down. At his side, his other hand held a thick tome.
Glancing around, Erin saw a glimpse of a tiny docks at the bottom of a ramp, with a few human men fishing. Walking by were happily chatting civilians, dressed in clean, casual clothes. Guards in groups of three or four patrolled, nodding greeting to some of the passing civilians.
As our small group passed a squad of guards, they nodded stiffly, eyeing Kaldrun warily. The demon hunter knew that his kind, while given sanction and considered an ally to the protectors of Azeroth, were still distrusted by most. As long as he kept his head down and remained polite, he wouldn't have to worry about uninvited attention.
The three passed the bridge and entered into what could be considered the city's antechamber. It was a short hallway leading into the Trade District, with large iron-barred gates on either side. Right now, of course, they were locked into the open position, being just somewhat menacing spikes from the ceilings.
Finally they entered the city itself. The paths were paved with huge grey stones and to the right and left were buildings of definitely European inspiration. Everything was just so medieval-y and it was driving Erin crazy with images of, like, the Chronicles of Narnia and shit.
At the center of the town square was a large oak tree with a huge bulletin board in front of it labeled in large wooden letters, "Hero's Call Board". There were all kinds of bounties and missions for aspiring adventurers, and a city crier stood next to it. The crier noticed the elf and the young women approaching and he stepped forward.
"Good day, friends," said the city crier, clearly unphased by Kaldrun's demon-hunter-y-ness, "Looking for a quest?"
"Nay, friend," Kaldrun shook his head gravely, "We come requesting an audience with the king. It is a matter of life or death for the whole of Azeroth."
"Oh, I see," the city crier nodded thoughtfully, "Could I have your names?"
The crier pulled out a quill and parchment, the latter of which was pinned to a wooden board. He looked expectantly at the elf.
"I am Kaldrun Monrath," said Kaldrun Monrath, then gestured to the other two and introduced them while the crier wrote their names and descriptions with alarming swiftness.
The crier examined the names and faces of the elf and his companions, squinting speculatively. After a moment he nodded and tore the parchment from the board, rolling it up and handing it off to somebody behind the bulletin board. A young blond boy of maybe twelve took the rolled up parchment and ran off with it.
"If you could follow me," said the crier, "I will take you to Stormwind Keep where we can find somebody for you to speak to. Would it be possible for you to impart to me your reason for this sudden request of audience?"
Kaldrun considered for a moment as the city crier led them through the crowds of the city, "It is not my place to say. I will have to speak to someone of authority first."
"Of course."
The crier led them through a small passageway, thus taking them out of the Trade District and into the Canals, where the paths ran along... well, the paths ran along the canals, bridging them into other districts, which were each defined by the colors of their roofs. The Trade District sported light blue roofs. Kaldrun, Erin, and Redrumei were between the Trade District and Mage Quarter, the latter of the two having purple roofs and being a place of study of the arcane arts. Directly on the other side of the Trade District was Old Town, with burnt orange roofs and mostly war-time goods (not that the roofs were actually burnt, that's just their color). Old Town connected the Dwarven District - a place of machinery and blacksmithing - with the Trade District, and the Dwarven District connected Old Town to the Cathedral Square, which housed the Cathedral of Light and the orphanage, with yellowish roofs, excepting the spires of the grey cathedral.
Every section of the city was separated by canals, and in the middle of the four districts I just mentioned is a tower that nobody really knows the use of, but it is always manned by many heavily armed guards.
Just off the northern edge of the Mage Quarter is the Stockades, where the majority of prisoners are kept, if the guards doing the capturing are kind enough to keep them alive.
The small group continued to follow the path along the canals until reaching the front of Stormwind Keep, a fortress that would swallow Goldshire if one could plop the little town place into the keep.
The keep was like a mini-Stormwind, with grand gates guarding the entrance. However, passing through these gates led to a huge courtyard with a another larger-than-life statue of a long-haired warrior, a scar passing over the bridge of his nose and a sword in his hands, the tip of the blade resting on the ground. The entire statue was surrounded by a beautiful fountain of pure, crystal-clear water.
The group followed the crier to the entrance of the massive fortress itself, where two guards were posted on either side. The crier turned to one of the guards and whispered to him.
"Well then," said the crier, turning to the elf and his cohort, "Follow this soldier here. This is where we part ways."
Kaldrun shook the crier's hand, the crier bowed to the girls, and went back the way he came.
The guard spoke in a gruff, impolite tone, "This way."
He led the party up directly into the throne room, where a blond young man of maybe twenty sat in a high backed, blue and gold throne decorated with symbols of lions and shields and lions on shields. He himself was adorned in gold and white armor, with a strange looking sword resting on the side of the throne, point down. The blade was split down the middle, and the blades themselves were not attached to the hilt, rather being held in place by a magical orange orb which held the hilt in place as well.
He looked up, and his jaw-length golden hair shimmered. He was strikingly pretty.
When he spoke, his voice resonated with righteousness, "Kaldrun Monrath. We meet again."
The boy-king stood and approached the demon hunter. He unclasped and remove the gauntlet on his right hand and held that now-bare hand out in an offering. The elf's scarred, clawed hand gripped the king's smooth-skinned hand, and they shook respectfully.
Kaldrun bowed slightly, "King Anduin Wrynn."
Anduin equipped his gauntlet once more and looked up at the elf. Despite his powerful demeanor, he still stood at about a foot shorter than the seven-and-a-half-foot tall night elf.
"I suppose," Anduin sighed, "That we have something to discuss."
Kaldrun nodded silently. Erin smelled contempt.
Anduin led the group into a war-room with several chairs surrounding a huge table, covered in maps. He gestured for them to sit.
Anduin sat across from the group and said, "Alright then. Tell your tale, demon hunter."