#valiance keep

The scent of coffee soothed his ragged nerves, the steam rising from the mug wreathing his face.  The first light of sunrise was starting to paint the sky purple in the east, the wind off the harbor as bracing today as it had been three days ago and three days before that.  His ear twitched slightly at the slight sound of a boot against one of the cobbles.  He didn’t turn.

“How was it up there?”

“You heard me coming?”  Concern and amusement braided together in her voice as she finished her approach.  The ease with which the woman wore her armor belied both the weight of it and the relative slightness of her frame, reminding him briefly of another, miles away to the south.  Quin cradled a mug of coffee between her hands as she came to stand beside him, staring off over the harbor.  “I’ve gotten sloppy since regaining my sight.”

“Maybe,” the medic murmured, inclining his head.  “Or maybe I’ve just grown used to listening for every scrape of a boot, every whisper of something out of the ordinary.”  He glanced toward her, his brow arching slightly.  “You didn’t answer my question.”

Her gaze flicked up to need his, the wry smile she’d been sporting fading like mist burning away with the dawn.  “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I asked.”  His shoulders shifted slightly in a shrug and he suppressed a sigh, looking away, back to the harbor, the water, the sunrise.  “We don’t have enough numbers, do we?”

“The threat is much larger than anticipated,” Quin said softly.  “I don’t know what forces we’re going to be able to marshal against it.  That’s above my pay grade.”

“But not by much.”  One corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile that faded as quickly as it came.  “You know all of this better than most.”

“Both sides—at least, the other side in the before times.”  She exhaled, scrubbing a hand over her face.  One of her fingers twitched slightly, unconsciously, a reminder of torments long ago but not far away at all.  “What do you make of it, Tyr?  You must have theories.”

“As do you,” he said before he took a slow sip of coffee, gathering his thoughts.  “This is a threat that won’t be easily handled, no matter how much we wish it might be—and if it can be kept bottled here, then that’s what all the powers that be will try to do.  The world is weary of war.”

“The world is weary of world-threatening threats.”  Quin sighed softly.  “But that’s not something we get a vote in, is it?  The world has other plans.”

He nodded slowly.  “It does.  Will they be able to hold?”

“They’ve reinforced the grounds considerably,” she said.  “It should hold.  It has to.  That’s the better infrastructure and higher ground.”

“Of course, we assume the threat will be in Icecrown,” he murmured.

“You don’t think it will be?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Quin.”  For a second, he stared into his cup of coffee, trying to ignore the raw ache inside.  “Nothing has turned out the way any of us expected.  We shouldn’t be back here fighting a new war against the same enemy.”

“No,” she agreed.  “We shouldn’t.  But here we are.”

“Aye,” he whispered.  “Here we are.”

She reached up to squeeze his shoulder.  His hand covered hers, fingers wrapping around her hand for a moment.

Then he sighed, gaze drifting back to the horizon.  The sky was turning bright pink over the water.  “A storm is coming,” he murmured.  “Can you feel it?”

“In every bone that was broken,” she said softly.  “You too?”

He nodded.  “In every bone and muscle, too.”

“Have you told her?”

“Not yet.”

“Should we?”

“You know her better.”

Quin sighed, nodding.  “I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to stay out here?”

“A little longer.  I need some air.”

“All right.  Don’t stay out too long.”

One corner of his mouth twitched toward a smile.  Quin’s brow arched.

“What?”

“You sound like her.”

She stared up at him for a moment, then smiled wryly.  “I’ll take that as a compliment.  Don’t stay out too long.”

Tyr simply nodded.  Quin’s hand slipped from his shoulder as she turned to head back inside while he lingered there on the overlook above the harbor.  The clouds above were dark.  The wind was cold.

A storm was rising.

The sunrise came later and later these past few mornings.  He knew that was a side-effect of both latitude and the change of seasons but somehow it still felt oddly like a herald of things to come.  He tried to shake the feeling of creeping doom, the dread that sometimes curdled his stomach, but it was hard—harder than it had been once upon a time, harder than it had been during his last stint here with the Argent Crusade, now a decade and more past.

The chill of the salt wind ran its fingers through his hair, but the medic did not shiver.  There was a freshness to that wind, one that chased the lingering smell of death away.  The last group had gotten far closer than they should have and in numbers larger than they’d expected.  There was no lingering doubt, now.

Something intelligent and powerful was out there in the wastes and was testing their defenses.

“Are you all right out here, Grimstryke?”

He didn’t turn toward the sound of Frost’s voice, instead letting his gaze sweep over the fog hanging over Valiance’s harbor.  One slow breath and then another before he answered the question.  “Zen’tavi and Maracuso should be recovered enough in a few days for light duties.  We should ship Starwhisper home.”

“He’ll argue against that. His sister’s still on patrol.  He won’t want to leave.”  She came to stand beside him, dressed in slacks and a leather vest over a woolen shirt.  The mage rested a hand lightly on the pommel of the blade hanging at her side, following his gaze out toward the water.  “Will it hurt to let him stay?”

The medic sighed softly. “Not if he stays put and we don’t have to evacuate in a hurry.”

“The work you did with Roiya on the wards suggests that we’ll have time for something more orderly if that moment comes,” she said.  The wind tugged red hair free of her braid, whipping them around her face.  “Path of least resistance, no?”

“I suppose,” he said, then shook his head.  “He won’t be able to fight for weeks—at least he shouldn’t.  Hell.  He shouldn’t be out of bed for at least a week.”

“Are you going to be able to keep him there?”

“I’m going to have to, aren’t I?”  He glanced at her sidelong, frowning slightly.  “No new orders?”

“Nothing yet,” she said. “Either it’s only a matter of time, or we’re the ones being left to hold this post while they martial forces for some kind of counterstrike—not that any of us seem to have any idea what we’re counterstriking against.”

A shiver crept down his spine.  “Well, that sounds familiar.”

She snorted softly, a wry smile kicking one corner of her mouth skyward.  “Business as usual, isn’t it?”

“For some,” he admitted. “More or less complicated for others.”

Her smile faded, her brows knitting.  “I never asked—”

“I’m fine.  I’m fine, they’re fine, it’s all fine.”

“Even with—”

“It’s fine,” he whispered, looking her square in the eyes.  “Leave it. Please.”

A trace of pain washed through her expression, one that vanished behind a stern mask a moment later. She gave a firm nod, then pivoted. “Come inside before you freeze.  I put some coffee on and the scones should be ready shortly.”

His chin dipped slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

She gave him one last measuring look before she turned and walked away, back toward the inn that had become their headquarters.

Tyr’s breath steamed in the chill.  His hands curled into fists.  He held his breath for one count, two.

Then he exhaled, closed his eyes, and bowed his head.  From one duty to the next.  There was work to do.

There was always work to do.

Braghaman walked into the room, his left arm wrapped tight to his side, and looked at the two dozen young paladins. They had been sitting together, talking energetically about what they had learned over the last four days. They knew that they were scheduled to return to Stormwind the next afternoon and they looked forward to sharing with the other recruits what they had seen. When they noticed Braghaman enter, the group hushed and turned towards the elder paladin.

Bragh inwardly grinned as he scanned the room and then eased himself into a chair at the front of the room. He waited a few more moments before he spoke to the group.

Valiance today was a bit of a shock to the system. Absolute chaos. The first time I ever saw this city it was the very picture of stern organisation. Now the streets are awash with merry faces, everything from pack horses to siege machines are piling up around the docks waiting for transportation. Jubilation. The taverns are over flowing with thirsty soldiers eager to celebrate for as long as possible. I made my way into one such tavern in search of a familiar face. A barmaid was standing on the bar singing a rendition of The Alliance Never Walk Alone with her skirts pulled up to her knees. The mob were throwing copper coins at her as if they feared she may stop at any moment and a tiny gnome was scurrying around trying to pick them all up. A coin hit the poor girl in the face and there was an awful moment where it looked like she was going to fall off the bar. But she quickly recovered herself and went on singing. I edged my way up to the bar and placed a coin near her feet and gave her a respectful nod. She shimmied her skirts and I caught a flash of her stocking tops. She winked at me, but I just stood there for a moment, then turned to leave. My composure these days is truly admirable, maybe the Naaru have really answered my call for aid in this delicate matter.