#ricardys

“Are you sure about this? You are an exalted hero to quite a few, even if other heroes may not know you that well.”

“It is for the better, but are you sure of this as well? You may end up having a cult following with how you led them to fight a war that almost claimed them once.”

As the fighting in Draenor concentrated heavily on Tanaan Jungle and the citadel within its Fel-corrupted heart, Sanctuary found itself in need of new aid as the veterans hailing from Azeroth previously to lend a hand were ready to pack up and let the world’s native denizens clean up the mess. Sure, some heroes would stick around to ensure Hellfire Citadel and the horrors within would not pose a threat to the world, but not as many were needed as they were with the initial steps of the war. Sanctuary found home within Ricardys’ joint garrison, offering supplies and people from the rebuilt village that migrated across Shadowmoon Valley. With the influx of helping hands, even if some were not exactly alive, more opportunities arose for Azeroth’s own troops and laborers from Darnassus and Stormwind to pack up and return home. Overlooking the merger in motion, the Dark Lord stood by the side of the Lady Lightbringer (as he would often refer to her as).

Her eye shifted up towards the Dark Lord’s head, even if the tall, armored, massive frame with dark metal shoulders protruding smoldering claws obstructed the view of the crowned, hooded head veiled by its own blood red emanations and darkness that obstructed even the most potent scrying from revealing his face. Her innate tone of a feral feline radiated a calm satisfaction as her dark, polished lips parted. “I’ve been waiting for this day, since it is about time my family steps away from all this war to teach, aid, and learn from others. Maybe some of the younger generation would like to learn of the Divine Flame if the traditional Holy Orders are too rigid or imposing for their tastes."

“An alternative to being a typical zealot?” As intimidating as the Dark Lord’s powerful voice was (even at a casual tone), the Lady Lightbringer did not embrace fear to his being. Instead, her lips curled into a smirk with amusement.

“Of course, my dear brother-in-law.” Her face slowly redirected back to the crowds in the heart of the garrison, witnessing partnerships and dealings back and forth between the new arrivals and those on the way out. “We need not any more surges of unwarranted zealotry. I’m sure those in the dark like yourself would appreciate not having more misguided souls turn blades and faith against yourselves unprovoked. --and for those that want to say your presence is provoking, that’s on their heads: not yours.”

“In any event, it’s time we stepped away from this mess and returned to our families.” The Dark Lord nodded following the suggestion, with the Lady Lightbringer nodding in return. “I’m sure the leaders of both cities will want resources back, but at this point this place can handle anything thrown at them. Let it be their new Sanctuary. I’ll catch you later.”

The two nodded once more as the Dark Lord called forth his companion, assuming the form of a steed of crimson energy and metal, taking mount before strolling away. As he left the new Sanctuary, a cloaked figure passed by. The Dark Lord took a moment to eye the newcomer due to what he sensed of the being, but kept to himself his perceptions. The figure quietly made its way through the busy crowds without drawing too much attention from the guards towards the steps to the main keep. The Lady Lightbringer arched a brow, along with several guards with her that caught wind of the stranger’s presence, carefully readying weapons while the Lady kept her sword and shield sheathed and slung.

(( Tagged twice by safrona-shadowsun, so let’s go with Ricardys and Ricardyan! ))

The Iron Docks incident forced the crimson-plated woman to stay away from the battlefield due to reviews by leadership and nosy nobles in Stormwind. The young moonkin had little reason to join the fight without his father on the front lines, although from time to time he would tend to the wounded on Draenor with his mother. With a cool breeze gently brushing through Teldrassil, the two noticed an unusual survey delivered to them.

“Um... five facts?” the moonkin inquired with an arched brow.

Fact 1: “Hm... let’s see...” The woman pondered in thought, knowing that some facts were best left a mystery. “Well, I know the ‘Wormhole Incident’ turned me into a full-fledged female, as opposed to someone that was operated on to look like one.” She chuckled softly, thinking about what would’ve happened if it was actually by snipping off a few parts and stuffing other parts of her body.

“Um... I’m not a real moonkin?” The young moonkin shrugged, still trying to dig facts into himself.

Fact 2: “No, no, son... Think deeper. Many know you’re a shapeshifting Druid. I’ve seen you become a tree, you know.” She smirked to the moonkin as he chuckled. “For my next fact... I saved a key ‘Alliance Magess’ from doom in Icecrown Citadel. I nearly died, but at least no one else died on my watch!”

“Whoa...” The moonkin couldn’t help but look at awe to the woman. “Um... I’d say I have three Treant friends, but when they tried to help me in Draenor the mean Orcies blew them up. They decided to stay as wispies here. You also gave away that I’m really good at using the healy green magic with the tree bit!”

Fact 3: “We’ll count that as your second fact, kiddo.” She playfully ruffled the feathers on the moonkin’s tiny crown. He giggled with amusement. “Well, many know I am an expert at Gnomish engineering, but I do invent less practical devices, half of the time inappropriate for public use.” Her lips shifted to a mischievous grin.

“Eeeee! Nuuuu!” The moonkin lightly poked the woman on the side. “Mommy wouldn’t like it if you showed those!” The woman chuckled again with amusement. “So a third fact? Well... I’m only a few calendar years old. You and mom told me how Miss Lio used her special magics to make me exist and grow fast into a healthy, strong boy.”

Fact 4: “And you developed as fast as you aged! We both were caught by surprise on that one. Let’s see, for me...” The woman took a brief pause to dig deeper. “Oh yeah, this one should be obvious enough. It was while you were still very young, growing as you were. I was one of the first responders to aiding the Kal’dorei when the Cataclysm first hit Azeroth and kept the Horde as well as the Twilight’s Hammer from encroaching further.”

“Oh yeah! You’re a hero!” The moonkin clasped his hands as his words beamed with excitement. “For me, I dun have a whole lot to say... But I did learn from a Panda how to fist a giant bug.”

Fact 5: The woman couldn’t help but burst in laughter. “Whoa there, kiddo. Careful how you say things. Fisting is considered one of those naughty acts. But yeah, your mother was quite worried when you were inside such a colossal creature. At least you know how to defend yourself.” The woman thought hard on the last fact. “The last fact... I could think of quite a few, but this one stands out a lot for me. I used to date a Death Knight with a very intimate preference of activities involving the backside while your mother and I shared the same body. It was through that empty relationship I realized my heart was for your mother.”

“Um... you should teach me how to relationship sometime, Dad.” The woman nodded in agreement to the moonkin’s request. “For me... Um... between your fiery light thing and Mom’s moonlight thing I dun think I have any light powers from either of ya. Wouldn’t a lil’ boy or girl have something from either mom or dad?”

“You would be surprised, kiddo. Remember you had Lio that made it possible for you to exist. If anything you probably inherited some of those powers from Lio or Lilly through that magic. If your mother and I do manage to have another child without aid, though, that one would inherit some form of Light.” The moonkin nodded to the woman’s words of wisdom. How much of it was understood, however, was a mystery.

(( Continued from: http://ricardyan.tumblr.com/post/111844259570/into-hell ))

The sight was not pleasant for the moonkin and Worgen Priestess. Picking herself and Ricardyan up quickly, Oregano moved as swiftly in the direction of the woman as possible, preparing first to pull her behind anything that could serve as protection, and then to channel healing magic into her. The young moonkin did not hesitate to take cover with his mother. Although the healing magic did seal the wounds, the form rested limp and unresponsive, almost lifeless. The child offered the touch of nature that he could, limited by his form, in desperation. Yet the body being flung did not go unnoticed. Several soldiers approached the cover with axes and rifles, one yelling out. "Death is all that's left for you, human! We WILL have those weapons!" "I need time, Ricardyan--do not hesitate to strike, I will shield you and continue to mend..." She quickly cast a shielding spell on Ricardyan and focused her most powerful spells into Ric. With a nod, the moonkin stepped out of hiding to hold their foes at bay. Instantly a storm of lead, fire, and steel showered the child. The shield held to the storm as the child retaliated with a hail of stars and celestial fire from above. Yet the shield met its match when a hulking monster of an armored Orc, carrying a heavy, spiked warhammer with one hand, charged at the child, smashing through the shield to pin him to the wall! "The strongest of body are often the weakest of mind...forgive me, but I cannot allow you to harm my son."  Oregano turned, pausing only briefly in her healing of Ricardys to focus a sharp blast of psychic energy into the mind of the Orc. The Orc slowly turned his head to face the Priestess, his left hand holding the child to the wall by the throat. A scarred eye pierces through the Priestess' gaze, feeling her will try to pry at his mind. "You forget where you are, mutt." His hand did release the child, but now he was focused on her instead, marching slowly to her. "Those of weak will do not survive here." Oregano smiled sadly, her voice sincere.  "Yet it is not will that those who hunger ever for war temper.  To kill is always the easiest path--maintaining peace...now that, requires mental fortitude."  She raises a hand, a beam of psychic energy strong enough to ripple the air around it blasting into the Orc's forehead, prying inside*  "Embracing death does not make you stronger indeed, it only makes you more of an animal than I could ever be." "GRRR..." The Orc clutched his head to the sharp pain that surged through it. In that moment of distraction, the child casted away the moonkin form to reveal that of a young boy appearing human in nature. Sneaky, but swift, a surge of nature spilled into the fallen Ricardys with a thrust of the child's arms upward! Oregano took the opportunity to clench her fist, the beam suddenly coalescing and detonating in the Orc's mind with a word of death.  "To live by death is only to embrace it all the sooner.  If only there had been another way." The Orc knew well what death meant. "Yes... AND YOU WILL JOIN ME!" In a moment of desperation through the mental trauma, the Orc charged through to grasp at Oregano's neck and pin her down! Yet it was not her neck that would feel the grip of death. Ricardys, with life renewed and her inner fire blazing, snapped forward to grip the Orc by his neck!

There was only so far the Worgen Priestess, Oregano, could fly on a gryphon before having to land to avoid getting shot down. On the trip north, the task force could be found patching each other's wounds. Around them were numerous dead Iron Horde, Goren, and Gronnlings. To the distance, two Gronn were also mutilated. Oregano observed the carnage silently, her lupine muzzle in a grim expression as she continued onward. Of the group, a Dwarven death knight harped: "Not yet! We gotta find the Bloodblaze boy! We ain't leavin' without him!" Oregano nodded to herself as she noted the group, muttering quietly.  "Stay sharp.  We walk into an endless battlefield, and it will not hesitate to claim the unwary." The group continued to debate with one another as the Priestess moved forward, although by the time the group became part of the distant horizon to her all but three retreated. The three that remained started their trip north on a different path. Gripping her staff, Oregano continued onward.  Her ears twitched at even the slightest sounds around her, and her nose searched constantly for the scent that would guide her to her destination, yet her eyes were always on her surroundings. As she continued north, a distinct trail of blood droplets could be seen, first from the north... then turning back to the north. The scent of it mirrored a bit of her own. Fighting the instinct to bolt forward on the trail, Oregano reminded herself that she would be of no use to her son dead.  She pressed on, ever-attentive, ever-focused. As she fought her instinct, the trail, slowly fading, seemed to follow the path north she was taking. Upon being just paces from the edge of the Pit of Gorgrond, faintly in the distance, a moonkin with a bandaged arm and caked-on blood where wounds were could be seen. The moonkin seemed awfully young, the scent matching that of the blood from earlier... Oregano made her way to the moonkin, knowing that it was better not to call out and risk bringing enemies down on them both. The moonkin, hearing approaching footsteps with his own acute hearing, looked over to the Priestess. His eyes slowly lit up to the unexpected sight. Oregano smiled, as always careful not to let her sharp teeth show in the process.  She whispered softly, "Stay still, young one--I will mend your wounds.  We must leave this place soon and help hold the line, it seems." He shook his head, looking up to her, whispering as well. "I can't, mom. Dad's... dad's still over there and won't last for long alone." The child pointed north towards the Iron Docks. Oregano carefully casted one healing spell, followed by another, letting the mending flow across Ricardyan.  "Then we will go together." The young moonkin could feel strength returning to him in full as the wounds were sealed by the healing light of Elune. He looked around, hoping to find others to aid the two. It was often that the Pit would be sacked by the Alliance, perhaps yielding a noble few to aid in the rescue. "We may not have much time to wait.  But between both of us, perhaps we can clear your father a path." Upon those words, the north was rocked with a massive chain of explosions. From the distance towards the docks, plumes of smoke and embers bellowed. Alarms could be heard within the ignited chaos.

The sun baked the docks from high above. Laborers continued to move stockpiles from one place to another, unaware of the trap set for the Iron Horde. Soldiers armed and armored to the teeth massed upon a steelclad ship rigged with several cannon-equipped Gronn and a massive turret big enough to fire Iron Stars. At the bow of the ship stood its captain, aged, gruff, but standing tall and strong in heavier truesteel plate with a truesteel cutlass and hand cannon. To his side was his first mate in simple clothes, but also with a cutlass of his own.

"We wait too long for this crimson human," the aged captain grunted with displeasure. "The window to strike at her heart and claim the weapons slowly shuts before us. I'm giving the order: we set sail for the Bloodblaze garrison, or else all of this preparation has been for naught and the blood of the other clans was spilt in vain."

"Yes, sir!" the first mate acknowledged, immediately drawing his battle horn. With a proud, forceful blow to pierce the busy air with its call to arms, pier side laborers rallied to the mooring lines as the last of the troops assembled onto the ship. Quickly the lines were cast away from the pier as the ship's crew reeled them in. The ship begun its sail for Shadowmoon Valley.

For Ricardys, as she took notice of the ship sailing, she knew the ship's departure to be an ill omen. She looked towards her remote, focused on a small red button. I'm sorry, my love... my child... Time's up. She immediately broke away from the stockpile she used as cover, huddling close to the side of a building safely from the rigged cargo. Knowing what was to come, she kept her eye on the ship, waiting for it to be just far enough that the troops would be stranded on it while the ship would be forced to stay. At that proper moment, she pressed the button.

At first, it was only a few isolated packages that exploded. While it did alarm the dock workers, it did not draw the attention that she sought. However, the fires that followed were not ordinary fires. Within the stockpiles were munitions and explosives now exposed to flames. Those also set off into a cataclysmic display of steel, lead, and flame showering the workers and blanketing the piers. Immediately the alarms blared across the docks, dockside workers and soldiers pouring in to respond to the inferno.

Yet the ship did not return to aid the docks. It was at that moment she had to start thinning the panic-stricken ranks and force the ship to return. Charging into the chaos, she gave no mercy to any of the Iron Horde, be it a simple worker or a skillful champion. With flame and smoke to give her cover, she drew forth her shield and hilt, the hilt emanating a blade of fierce, blazing energy. For the few Orcs that could spot her from inside the smoke, the shock and awe left them open to her cutting through them and hurling their bodies into the water for the ship to see. Some did choose to fight back, giving small nicks, cuts, burns, and bruises, but were far from capable of taking her on individually as she pressed through their retaliatory strikes to deliver them to the sea.

"Sir! We must turn back!" the first mate warned in panic. The captain turned around to look at the scene on the docks, noting flashes of energy through the smokescreen while split-open comrades were cast away to the waters below.

"That woman..." the captain growled lowly, but ferociously. "Bring the ship back. Get our Gronn and the turret loaded. She's not getting the benefit of smoke and flame to hold us back. If she wants to burn our docks, we'll make her burn with it and rebuild over her charred remains."

"Uh..." the first mate was uncertain of the order at first, knowing that their comrades were also at risk of being obliterated, yet peering at the numerous bodies of their brothers-at-arms hurled away to float lifelessly upon the sea surface, it was clear sacrifices were to be made. "Prepare the Gronn! Load the Iron Star Launcher! Aim for those flashes of light and FIRE!" The moment they were preparing to strike back at the woman, she found herself taking on small squadrons at a time, enduring the fights as more of her strength had to be spent to keep the chaos raging. It even got to a point a squad commander stepped forward with axe and shield in tow, putting up a fight so intense she was forced to shield herself in a sheath of divine fire to ward away the blows! While she was triumphant in the end, yet still recovering from the protective energies preventing her from bathing herself once more to recover with a second wind, she turned to bear witness to the ship. It did return, as expected, but what was unexpected...

Panic surged through Darnassus' Sentinels like wildfire. Various commanders of different Sentinel regiments debated fiercely on the matters at hand. "Send a copy of that to the Temple!" a commander shouted to one of her couriers. "Priestess Bloodblaze needs to know now!" With swift hands and swift feet, the letter was transcribed onto a copy, yet the original was sent to the Temple for it had the Bloodblaze seal on it. Panting heavily to catch her breath, the Sentinel courier shouted into the Temple: "Priestess Bloodblaze! Urgent message from Commander Bloodblaze!"

Oregano opened her eyes, startled abruptly from her meditations. Responding quickly, she lept from the upper ramp, thankful in that moment for her Worgen's frame and agility. Lighting softly on the ground, she moved to the courier. "Please, what is your message?"

"It's... it's here... My apologies, Priestess. I need to... catch my breath..." The courier's arm shakily held the note to the Priestess, legs trembling in a mix of exhaustion... and fear.

Oregano took the note, looking to the courier with concern for a moment before reading. "Take your time--rest a moment here." The courier nodded, pressing herself firmly back into a column for support. The note was hastily scribbled:

'To any available Sentinel commander, I am currently trapped in the Iron Docks with no means to escape! The Iron Horde is planning on sending a force to bombard my garrison while it is recovering with few men and women able to fight. If they get their hands on it they'll have access to a considerable cache of weapons, including N.U.K.U.L.A.R. warheads! I had no choice but to desperately send myself and all of my elite followers to counterattack to delay the Iron Horde. My son has also joined the battle, but all of the followers as well as my son had to escape. I know not where they are. Please, do whatever it takes to protect that garrison! If anyone is available, send them to find the elite task force and my son before I am forced to make one more move to keep the Iron Horde at bay... even if it may put my life at risk. --Commander Ricardys Bloodblaze'

Oregano growled softly. "Recklessness may be both of our ends... Sentinel, please tell the High Priestess that I must depart immediately for Stormwind and the portal to Draenor." Moving in almost a blur of speed, Oregano made her way quickly to her bed, and specifically the chest at the end of it. Drawing out a staff and her hearthstone, she made use of the latter, speeding her journey.

The Sentinel saluted, picking herself back onto her feet to climb the spiral upward to the High Priestess and deliver the message. Angered greatly by the turn of events, the High Priestess glared at the Sentinel: "I don't care who goes, but we are not letting the Iron Horde claim those weapons, our Priestess, and an exalted hero. Take this missive to any commander you choose. Magi will be providing portal access directly to Ricardys' garrison. Defend it and save her before it is too late!" The Sentinel saluted, taking the missive from the High Priestess to deliver swiftly to a commander. Stormwind was just as busy as Darnassus, moreso due to the news that a garrison with a cache of powerful weapons was under repetitive sieges and needed reinforcements immediately. In a classic display of defunct leadership, leaders were arguing on who to send as opposed to being willing to send anyone with the common excuse of not having enough manpower.

Wasting no time, Oregano made her way quickly to the Mage Tower. There, always, had been the center of where portals were maintained, and she had no doubt that it would be here that she would find her way to Draenor. Within the Mage Tower were two magi providing portals to Ashran as a unit of soldiers were sent to continue repelling the Horde's advances in Ashran for a mysterious artifact. One noticed the Worgen Priestess in a hurry. "Where to, ma'am?" the mage spoke calmly as the other mage took over sending the unit through.

"I require passage to a specific garrison in Draenor--Commander Bloodblaze's. If you do not have a portal leading directly there, I need one as close as is possible."

"Here's one to Ashran, ma'am." The mage did not hesitate to conjure a portal of his own to Ashran, but this time directly to the flight master on the other side. A familiar was also sent with a message to the flight master to prepare a gryphon for immediate departure to Ricardys' garrison. "When you're over there, take the gryphon provided to the garrison. Travel safely, Priestess."

Oregano nodded her thanks and stepped through. Blinking several times, her eyes, more comfortable with low or no light, adjusted to the sudden change. She looked around her for the gryphon master, and secured a flight to the garrison, taking care to survey the fighting below her as she flew. The travel was mostly over sea as she was carried to Shadowmoon Valley. What was found was but the aftermath of a recent invasion by Highmaul ogres that trekked all the way from Nagrand to settle the score with Ricardys' garrison. It was thwarted, but with so few soldiers and riflemen still standing. Both Ricardys' and Ricardyan's keeps were overfilled with wounded as clerics rushed to tend to the injuries. The barracks in Ricardyan's wing was finished on the outside, but far from prepared on the inside to house more soldiers. It was clear the last few defenders, even with the refined armaments from both bunkers and the gadgets from the Gnomish Gearworks, would not be able to hold for another assault.

Oregano looked around quickly. "In the Commander's absense, who is currently in charge?"

The soldiers and riflemen looked to each other in confusion before looking around. No one of a significant position was around standing outside. Hesitantly, one rifleman, a Dwarf at that, stepped up to the Priestess. "Er... ma'am... everyone's healin' or gone. We're all that be left fer this. The only standin' order is ta send everyone ta find the task force and lil' boy. Unless ye got an army, we're done for without 'em."

"Then I will require their last known whereabouts," the Priestess requested firmly. "I will return with them as quickly as is possible--you must hold until then."

The flight master, upon hearing the Priestess' request, bolted over with his fastest gryphon. "Gorgrond, ma'am! Take Speedy, here! It's the only chance you have to find them!"

(( Yup, went there. ))

Tensions eased over time. What was once a desperate assault slowly settled into a calm before the next storm. Wounded Orcs settled in the Iron Docks' infirmary on the road to recovery. Roaming watch groups actively hunting down a straggler slowly degraded to routine patrols. Laborers resumed hauling cargo from one place to another.

For the crimson-plated woman left behind, hidden behind a large stash of supplies with the aid of her Stealthboy device, the moment's peace was an omen of bad tidings to come. She was beyond stocked for a long time with the numerous feasts, healing tonics, and gadgets prepared in advance for any sticky situation. However, it would be a matter of time before either someone found her out, or the Iron Horde regiment at the docks resumed their initial plan: assaulting her garrison while it's recovering.

This she knew in advance, having sent a mechanical axebeak with a small pouch tied around it to her garrison. At the moment she was realizing the regiment would resume the assault, despite the risk of her appearing to cause damage while their main force would be out, the axebeak already made it back to her outpost in Gorgrond, the note sent swiftly by one of her fastest couriers to her garrison. The note was further sent with the aid of a skilled Arcanist in the garrison to Darnassus for a commander of a regiment of Sentinels to read and address.

Why Darnassus? The woman represented the Night Elves during the Argent Tournament for countless jousting competitions and services. She also responded to the Night Elves' crisis during the beginnings of the Cataclysm, leading the front to push back the Twilight's Hammer and the Horde from encroaching further on their homes in Darkshore and Ashenvale. Some did wish she was more involved with the earlier skirmishes against the Warsong Clan, but her heroics and service granted her the honors of an exalted hero.

... and it also helped that her wife is a Priestess in the Temple of Elune.

Yet, she felt that even with the call for help sent, she would not have enough time to wait for a rescue. While her garrison was fairly sizable (primarily due to having to absorb an additional garrison under her command since the Alliance mistakenly conscripted her son to be a Commander), her wing of it lacked the manpower to fight continuous invasions while her son's wing was not fully constructed to house a larger force to protect the garrison as a whole. It was armed to the teeth with the aid of bunkers and engineering workshops, but it needed her, her son that joined her but had to be sent away to safety, the elite force sent with her that escaped but still had yet to return, and/or aid from either another garrison or Darnassus.

If this is where the line ends... let it end in a bang. C'mon, son... I know you are near. I need you now. Being well-stocked had no limits. With a crafty mind able to think and invent in a pinch, any metal and combustibles available were transformed into improvised explosives with remote detonators. Not even the cargo she was hiding behind was spared from her quick thinking. If the Iron Horde wasn't so heavily focused on powder and steel this would've been difficult. Explosives and materials already in the cargo were modified as well for her purpose.

This was no quick endeavor, though. Armored with light plate, even with how revealing it was with the logic of 'less is more', she had to make every action slow and meticulous to avoid making too much noise. The amount of care required to perform this doubled even further when she shifted bags and crates around containing her explosives in hopes that laborers would send each rigged package to another set of cargo. A few packages were sent to other cargo stockpiles, but more time was needed to distribute the rest as more rigged packages were set up.

The question became, though: how much time did she have left before the Iron Horde would make its move?

It took several redirections of mail for the package to actually find the Courier at her current post in Draenor, a sigh leaving her as the commander of her assigned garrison complained at the notion of wasting supplies on a suspicious package. After many assurances and a dock to her own wages for the day, Safrona was finally left alone to examine the familiar symbol.

"…rune of blood. A death knight’s doing," she murmured to herself, perhaps a tad unsettled as she reached to open the sealed note. "Its like someone turned on a radar to find me between all of them." Swallowing at the residual feeling of icy cold that streaked through her memory of the Ghostlands, she found herself breathing out a sigh of relief, finding the note bore no connection to the Juggernaut.

…from what she could openly tell, anyway. It was best to be guarded, regardless.