#rip ted

Despite the leather and wool protection of her mask, Heulwen’s cheeks went numb with cold almost as once. Her hands fared better as she kept her gloves buried into the wyvern’s thick fur, her fingers so deep she could feel its neck muscles flexing and sense the warm dampness of the sweat on its skin. The slipstream rushed by in a glittering flow of tiny ice crystals, and the air smelled of nothing at all.

They stopped at Taunka’le Village to warm up, Heulwen and Saldi hovering near the fire whilst Ted the boar ran around in excitement at being freed from her flying harness. Saldi made friends with her usual ease, her loud laugh and beaming smile enchanting even the worried-seeming Taunka. Heulwen was happy to fade into the background, smiling politely and ostentatiously flipping through a book with large illustrations of herbs. She rather liked the frontier feel of the village, the tents and their flags flapping in the never-ending icy wind. It would be impossible to ever be complacent here. A good reminder.

Tightening the girths on the wyverns, Saldi chattered away with enthusiasm, gold tusk flashing in the low angles of the sun. “So they said it’s not far, just beyond the steam geysers, and there’s an Army outpost there. Well, more of a lookout, and guess what – I know one of them! The soldiers on duty there I mean, one of them is a Stonebreaker, Jalla, I served with her once in a scouting unit…” she broke off to strap Ted into the flying harness, a fate the boar accepted with a half-hearted squeal of resignation, “…she’s good people. But it’s been really quiet out there lately so they reckon the Army will probably pull back soon. Nobody cares about this place much anymore, well, except them,” this with a jerk of her head toward the Taunka. “Even the ziggurats are quiet, and there are fewer of the Nerubians about. Sounds like we’re in luck, eh?”

Heulwen nodded as she swung astride the wyvern, settling herself securely into the saddle and adjusting her packs, sword, and dagger sheaths for easy access. “Sounds good. I like it quiet.” With a couple of ungainly galloping strides the two wyverns took to the air once more. Flying through the steam clouds over the geyser belt was blessedly brief in duration as the stench of rotted vegetation and noxious gas was bad enough to be dizzying. No more than twenty minutes later Saldi pointed emphatically to the south and Heulwen spotted the small tent of the lookout post. They circled once then landed, Saldi immediately jumping down from the saddle and releasing Ted. Heulwen sat a little longer, cautiously looking around, one hand on the pommel of her light sword.

From the tent emerged a Tauren in Horde Army uniform. She shook her head in what seemed to be amazement, a smile stretching across her muzzle as she recognised Saldi. Her horns were decorated with a cascade of small silver charms, and she had leather straps binding large purple gems at both temples and at the base of her throat. She had twin swords at her hips, and she leaned a rifle against a wooden stand as she came forward to greet the Orc. The two laughed and exchanged the elaborate hand gestures of their old unit, and as Ted galloped off to root around behind some nearby scrubby bushes Heulwen finally climbed down from the wyvern.

She looked around. Why the fuck had Voratien been interested enough to buy this place? The ziggurat dominated the near horizon, and to the south the land fell away towards the coast in a gradual slope. Everything in between was without distinction. A bit lumpy, a bit spongy – Heulwen bounced experimentally on her toes – and with only sparse vegetation. Not a living creature in sight. Curious, she hacked away at the ground with the heel of her boot. The spongy, muddy top layer yielded easily and within a couple of inches the ice crystals began, making the rest as hard as rock. Raising a hand to shield her eyes from the low sun, she peered across toward the ziggurat. Surely that must be key, then? But why would the Humans want to buy it?

The wind carried a strange whispering sound from behind her. Turning, Heulwen looked back to the pair of old friends and had trouble comprehending the scene. Jalla was coated in a sheen of blood from muzzle to chest, with yet more blood dripping from the sword unsheathed at her side. Saldi stood immobile then, as Heulwen struggled to understand, slumped to the ground bleeding out from the throat. 

The Tauren turned her gaze from the Orc’s body to Heulwen, but the latter was finally in motion. She leaped for the wyvern, startling the creature into wildly flapping its wings and spooking its companion. The first bolt of magical energy ploughed into the wyvern just below the shoulder, tearing an enormous glowing hole and snapping the wing at the root. The torn wing whipped over and smashed Heulwen across the face, breaking a cheekbone, knocking her from the saddle, and whirling her sword out of reach. She crashed to the ground, stunned by the blow to the head, and before she could move was trapped by the wyvern’s body rolling onto her leg. She felt that break too, a sharp and shocky wave of nausea rushing through her before she fought it back. Pulling two daggers free, she peered over the howling, dying wyvern as the other animal bolted to the safety of the sky. Jalla was advancing, her non-sword hand extended palm out, the purple gems at her temples and throat glowing brightly.

Heulwen flung one dagger, saw it hit home in the Tauren’s chest, then fell back behind the bulk of the wyvern. She experimented with trying to drag herself free of the dead creature’s weight, but the excruciating grinding in her leg made her scream in pain and frustration. She risked another quick look. Jalla was still walking forward, seemingly uncaring about the dagger embedded in her chest. Heulwen would have taken her for undead if it hadn’t been for the bright, pumping red flow of blood around the blade. She screamed defiantly as she hurled the other dagger and saw it bury itself in Jalla’s throat. Nothing happened.

The second blast of magical energy from the Tauren’s palm tore a scorching furrow across the top of the wyvern’s body and hit Heulwen square in the upper chest. She felt Dawnflare’s tattooing activate, felt the strange vacuum form around her and spray the magic away like water from a hose hitting waxed wood. It did little to save her from the sheer energy of the impact, though. She felt ribs break and almost fainted from the renewed agony as the hit pushed her body away from her trapped leg, dislocating ankle and knee. She’d have screamed with the pain if her lungs had been able to draw breath. Instead she watched numbly as Jalla walked another step forward, slightly slower perhaps, but still determined. Heulwen had no doubt the liquid flowing from both daggers ought to be bright red with blood, but the pain was dragging her to unconsciousness through a world turned black and white. She clawed at one of the saddlebags, desperate for a potion.

At that moment Ted struck. The boar tore into the Tauren’s leg at the knee, her snout a blur of crushing and tearing. Gravity did more to slow Jalla than either dagger, her leg giving way beneath the raging attack. Heulwen got the pack unbuckled as the hysterical squeals of the boar rang out through the air, but her glove came away wet and glittering with broken vials and spilled liquid. Gritting her teeth she pulled her pistol instead. There was little hope it’d do anything useful, but damned if she’d die without having tried everything. Her ears buzzed with static as she struggled to stay conscious.

Jalla lashed out with her sword, unbalanced and clearly weakening. The power in the blow made her stagger with the effort, but it also cleaved through Ted’s neck and spine. The boar fell dead at arm’s length from the body of her mistress. The Tauren turned back towards Heulwen, reeling, but with the purple gems still  pulsing. The latter took a ragged blood-bubbled breath and raised her pistol.