#melanira

She had never been so close to one of the Alliance's airships before and it was certainly a sight to behold; the Skyfire, the flagship of the  aerial navy's fleet and its pride and joy. It had chased down Xaxas himself, aided in numerous Alliance missions during the war in Pandaria, and even survived being quite nearly pulled out of the sky by a colossal Fel Reaver at the Broken Shore. When she had first arrived aboard, Melanira had been astounded by the airship's complexity. She had little comprehension of the immense engineering that went into making something like this, but even she could appreciate its marvel. The 7th Legion deserved no better vessel than this to take them to the Broken Isles. Melanira just wished that they were actually going to fight the Legion, not to "track" Sylvanas and the Forsaken Fleet.

She had not been at the Broken Shore. She was not entirely sure what had happened. Depending on who you asked the Horde either abandoned the Alliance to die or were forced to retreat as they began to be overrun from behind. Either way, Melanira believed the Horde and whatever had happened on that ridge were matters to be addressed later.

"The Legion is upon us now," she silently mused to herself. "They are the immediate threat."

But such idle thinking did not do anyone much good, least of all herself. She had agreed to join the 7th Legion when they approached her after the Broken Shore. She knew they had suffered terrible losses there. Everyone did. They needed experienced warriors to replace those who had fallen. "Even warriors with a bum leg, it would seem." Melanira chuckled. Sure, she had been devastated when her leg was crushed by a massive stone pillar during the War of the Shifting Sands, but she'd learned to get over it. After decades of physical therapy she was able to move easily enough with her leg brace or cane. It barely hindered her ability in combat now that she'd learned to compensate for it with a big shield. 

Melanira quietly moved further below decks to the bottom of the Skyfire. One of her favorite places she had found soon after coming aboard was the aft balcony. She wasn't entirely sure if it served much of a purpose militarily speaking, but it was a nice place to clear one's head. As she stepped out into the crisp night air, she was greeted with a fierce gale wind. She walked to the edge of the balcony, the sounds of her bootfalls muffled by the now much louder engine noise. She leaned against the railing and peered down. Several hundred feet below was the inky blackness of the sea. Though she couldn't make it out in the night sky, if she closed her eyes and focused she could just make out the faint crashing of the waves.

They would be upon the Broken Isles, and Sylvanas' fleet, soon enough. Quite possibly by the next morning or afternoon. One of the shaman aboard said that he believed a storm would arrive soon. Melanira wasn't worried. With all that the Skyfire had been through in the past, some inclement weather wasn't going to bring it down. The Forsaken Fleet though? That was a different story. One airship against an entire fleet were not odds that the Kaldorei much favored, but they were the odds that she had and she fully intended to make the best of them.