“So he is going to die here.” Albatross stood over him, an angry determination in his eyes.

“We’ve tried everything we can.” Naishin stood, her mask removed for once. “All we are doing now is easing his pain.”

Albatross buried his head in his hands, lowering himself to sit on the bed opposite of Leramor’s. Mosee sat beside him, her arms wrapped around his waist the best she could.

“He always told us when he went, he would want it to be in battle.” She looked over at him, shaking her head.

“What if we gave him a suit like mine?” Mentine looked through the window from the balcony, unable to fit in the room. 

“Unfortunately not enough of him is intact at this time.” En’roma stopped channeling her energies. “He has less than five minutes left. Albatross, do you have anything you would like to say?”

He looked up, pausing for a moment. With a sigh he rose, Mosee taking his hand and walking alongside him.

“I spent far too long angry. It wasn’t even your fault.” He looked down at his dying friend, keeping his eyes focused on his face and not his exposed insides. “You were a good man then and you’re a good man now. You’ve done work that will save this world when the time comes. I never expected anything less of you.” 

Everyone stared on as he spoke, staying silent.

“Sonata cared for you as a dear friend. And I cared for you as a brother. I wish you could have been there to see Lyrelark and Crescendion grow. You would have loved them.” 

Leramor’s eyes began to twitch. The tendrils were slowing as his body shut down.

“Your work will continue to change the world around you. Your spirit and drive are alive and well in this organization. It burns just as you did.” He sighed, opening his hands and casting a yellow light. It swirled between his fingers, and then met Leramor’s chest. “Rest well in the Light, brother.”

Within seconds, he was gone.

He grumbled. “You’ve got two minutes to untie me or I’ll tie you all together by your entrails.”

The attackers were cloaked, all matching with their black robes with pale blue accents. There were three in front of him, and one standing behind. The one at his back was considerably shorter than the others, which he noted. Two were about the same height as his son, and the other a tall and wide being. Most likely a Tauren. He couldn’t see faces, but his eyes had adjusted just enough to make out figured. He hoped that his observations were right.

One of the medium sized figures stepped forward and started casting a spell. Upon release, the blue light flew from their hands, hitting his boots and freezing them to the ground. With a malicious smile, another blue bolt was fired, hitting him in the chest and freezing through his armor. It was painful, but he showed no signs of pain. Only bared teeth.

“I didn’t realize the Stratustorm was this big. His name really does suit him.” The other medium-sized person was definitely a man, but had a high-pitched voice. “After all, an albatross has a ten foot wing span. This guy here must be able to lift up a clefthoof with one hand.”

The other one laughed a bit, before frowning again. “It looks like we did well in choosing an ambush for his capture. He’d certainly be a tough fighter if we chose a more... head-on approach.”

The other two offered no movement or sound. The tall one stared directly into Albatross’ eyes, while the other looked down at his back. Still attached to his armor, but tied down, was his axe. They hadn’t removed it.

The same attacker stepped forward, gripping Albatross’ chin with an ice-cold hand. “Listen up, beast. This world won’t be around much longer. Everything will burn away, and all that will be left is the remnants of the the waste of time civilizations that existed here.” 

As if on queue, the other one stepped forward. He blocked part of the light, making it clear to Albatross that the light was coming from the larger being in front of him. The two speaking were close enough to help him see that they were both Sin’dorei, like himself.

“Like he said, this world is going down in olive flames.” He grinned wide. “And we need the most powerful soldiers to stand and face with us and the Legion.”

Albatross spit again, but this time, aiming his bloody discharge right for the speaker’s eye. Perfect shot.

With a yell, that same one jumped back, throwing his hands in a bucket and scrubbing his eye fiercely. The other simply frowned, seeming frustrated more with his cohort than he was with Albatross.

“We will make sure our leaders let that slide if you join us without fight. We need more powerful soldiers like you, and with just a tiny bit of fel blood, we can wipe that useless Light out of you and give you a taste of real power.”

Albatross growled, grinding his teeth as he listened. “I’m not interested in the Legion or any of its disgusting perks.” He let another bit of spit fly out, but the elf froze it in air and let it shatter upon the ground.

Instantly after, he punched the paladin in the face. One, two, three times. He rubbed his fist, panting and tired. Albatross’ expression remained as stoic as ever, despite his now bleeding nose.

“I gave you the chance to do this painlessly.” The other elf was done scrubbing his eye, and stormed over with a dagger and glowing green vial in hand. “You had the opportunity to be a soldier for the Legion, and fight alongside the greatest power in the universe. But now, you’re going to take this blood, and you’re going to be my armored bitch.” He lunged at Albatross, dagger pulled, but was blocked by a shield of light. He raised an angered eyebrow, turning his head the best he could. The smaller figure behind him was channeling the shield, while multitasking to cut the ropes binding him. 

“What?” Albatross slipped his hands free, looking to the figure with a raised eyebrow.

The hood dropped, and revealed a female Goblin, forehead sweaty and obviously tense. She ended the shield and dropped behind Albatross, freeing his axe and sticking the handle in his hand.

Without hesitation, he nodded and threw a single foot up, breaking its ice binding. He stomped down and broke the other foot’s freeze, also seeming to stun the fire mage with shock. The frost mage was focused, however, and began firing frostfire bolts in his direction. He used his plated arms to block them, feeling nothing more than a slight burn on his skin. He swung his axe around with astounding force, cutting through the air like the tail of a grown dragon. The mage was fast, but not fast enough as the axe finally made contact. It tore through the elf’s chest with ease, leaving him lying in two pieces of freezing blood and gore.

As he tore his now bloodied head around, Albatross noticed that the goblin woman was being held up by her neck at the hands of the other mage. His grip was starting to ignite, trying to burn her alive. With a powerful yell, he lunged, but stopped as another hand gripped the mage by the head and snapped his neck. The other figure removed his cloak, and revealed his Tauren face.

“There’s not enough time to make sense of things.” His voice boomed with urgency. “Mosee, take him down the hall.”

The goblin, he figured she was Mosee, grabbed his hand and started running. He stopped, jerking his hand back and nearly causing her to fall.

Albatross started running back to him, but the Tauren flashed light in his direction and caused him to stop, stunned.

“I swore to the Earth Mother I would keep your son safe.” The Tauren growled, standing alone as other cultists ran down the hall. “And today I will fulfill that promise.”

Mosee started running towards him, now realizing what he was doing. She cried out, tears leaving her eyes, but Albatross caught her and lifted her in the air. She flailed in protest, but failed, mostly due to her distraught state.

“Get out of here NOW!” The Tauren threw his hoof down in a thunderstomp, sending both the cultists and Albatross flying back. He kept Mosee in his grip, stumbling a bit before tightening his grip on her and running down the hall.

Albatross sighed, leaning forward and burying his forehead in his hand. “You could have still been Uncle Leramor. We offered you a room in our home, but you insisted on trying to reenlist.” He turned his head up, staring into Leramor’s eyes. His own were intense, and being filled with memories.

The barmaid brought their tea, setting the teacups down on the table in front of each of them. She gave them a nod before walking away, hips swaying to the rhythm.

“Albatross, there’s nothing for me in settling down. I’m not happy if I’m not using the Light’s gifts on others. I am a cleric.” He took a sip of the tea, wincing a bit at its heat before setting it back down. “Well, I was a cleric.”

A dark eyebrow was raised by Albatross. “What the fel are you doing then, if you’re not a cleric anymore? You know the Horde would never let you take up arms.”

Leramor grinned. “I don’t serve the Horde now.” He waved a hand to the scroll. “Take a look.”

Albatross hesitated, before taking the scroll and pulling it open. Inside was a contract, with a single bar to sign on the bottom. He furrowed his eyebrows, not exactly understanding everything. “What is this, exactly?”

The contract was pulled carefully from his hand by Leramor. “It’s a contract, of course.” He set it down on the table, with a quill and bottle of ink. “I am the commander for the Burning Shield now.” His right hand ran over his tabard. “We’re a task force of sorts. We recruit adventurers and mercenaries, and make organized teams out of them. People like yourself who can’t, or won’t, join up with the national militias.” He took another drink of his tea.

By this point, Albatross’s face was in a scowl. He reached back and flipped his hood up, gathering his axe and bag. “I am not a soldier for hire, Leramor. And you know that.” 

Leramor quickly set down his teacup and stood. “Albatross, would you wait?” He stepped forward. “I know you, you would never walk out on a friend like this.”

Albatross froze. 

“A hundred years ago, you would have listened and smiled at every word I said.”

The large man closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. He turned around, dropping his hood and sitting back down. Leramor was smiling again.

“I’m glad to see you still have your patience.” He reached over and lifted the quill. “There are no solo missions in the Burning Shield. This isn’t like the Hope Battalion. We will train and keep track of every single one of our members, and involvement will solely be a volunteer basis.” Leramor’s voice dropped, his tone growing more intense. “The Burning Legion is making advances. They’ve always been a threat, you know that. But we have reason to believe they’re coming here to Azeroth.”

Albatross’ attention was focused. His eyes sharpened, staring intently at the man.

With there being no response, Leramor continued. “That’s why we’ve organized the Burning Shield. Well, we’re starting to, anyway.” 

Albatross leaned back, piecing everything together. “And how does this work as a ‘business,’ then?”

Leramor laughed. “If you’re assuming we charge for soldiers, you’re somewhat wrong.” He leaned forward, pointing at the contract. “Let’s make an example. Are you familiar with Silvermoon City’s Sunguard?”

That dark eyebrow was raised again. “Lyrelark is enrolled in their forces.”

“Good kid, and a great service.” Leramor lifted the contract up again. “For groups like this, we wouldn’t charge for service. We’d ask how many troops they want, and send them off. We’d only charge for private use. Protection of nobles, adventurers, you get the drill.” He put the contract down, and slid it over to Albatross.

“So,” he grinned. “Can I get you a tabard?”

It had been four days since his wife’s death. His eyes showed improvement, that he had slept, and he now had a snowy white beard covering his lower face. He was finding rest in terms of sleep, but his mind was still racing. It was difficult to tell by his stoic face but he was still somewhat distraught from it all. It was now that he realized his wife’s name was appropriate; Sonata, the beautiful force she was, left him a solo song in the cold of Northrend. Keeping the tune going in this time was difficult for him and he struggled to find where to go next. 

That was what he was doing today.

He called down his white drake and mounted, scratching the scales on the side of his face as he did so. It had been some weeks since he flew, and the beast showed his excitement at being reunited with his master. With a quick dash and a jump the two were off, flying through the freezing air.

With a curt sniff, he identified the oncoming city in the clouds. It had been some time since he was in Dalaran, and this was by choice. Albatross had a history here, and he was known by the citizens calling it home.

He drew his cloak over his head, keeping his alignment secret. His deep frown remained, unchanged by the sharp cold air of the area. The drake flew off, knowing to do so before the command was even issued. Albatross hulked his way in through the doorway, giving a nod to each of the employees as he walked by. They knew exactly what he was, and knew when to not approach him. He walked to another cloaked individual, and dropped a small pouch of gold into their hands. Within seconds, a portal was made, and it took him to Orgrimmar.

He walked through the warm, dry city, lowering his cloak now that he was safe. With hesitation, he entered the inn he was instructed to visit.

Like planned, another Sin’dorei paladin such as himself was waiting, a red and white tabard draped over his thick armor. He had a large smile and narrowed eyes, making it clear that he was satisfied Albatross showed.

Albatross walked to him, ignoring his reach for a handshake, and flopped in the chair across. He stared through his eyebrows at the other paladin, offering no greeting.

“Stratustorm, I’m glad you made it. Or Albatross, are we on first name basis again? It’s been over a century.”  The brown haired paladin’s smile faded. “Look, I’m sorry about Sonata. The Light called her too soon. I hope you’ve been recovering well.”

Albatross looked up, his expression softening a bit. He leaned back in the chair, offering no true response to the already-presented statements. “Why did you ask me to come here, Lightsong?”

His counterpart smiled again. “Right, then.” He leaned forward, hands interlocked and now resting on the table. “Let’s get down to business.”