#vivaaldi

“We need some more ballista closer to the Warp Piston, how many can we spare?” Vindicator Kuros bellowed, as he marched past the defense crystal in the center of Blood Watch, as he headed to the northern exit out of the town. A few Peacekeepers trailed after him, muttering something among themselves, before one of them broke from the pack to inquire about the ballista question.

Vivaaldi had made some last minute repairs on the defense crystal in Azure Watch, declaring it working again, before moving to the other town. While she trusted Padruk’s skills, Viv was meticulous and wanted to double check his work, especially during times like these. Paying little mind to Kuros barking, Viv continued her inspection of the main crystal.

The draenei were in no position to be helping the kaldorei in defense of Darkshore. But they were their allies. From the moment the draenei crash landed on the islands, to the brokered peace and promise they will decontaminate the land - in no part due to the Exodar-. To the kaldorei lending the islands to the draenei to live on. Though it started off unsteady, the draenei and kaldorei had become close allies and-neighbors. But what was happening now, while it was too close for comfort geographically, it reminded the draenei too much of Shattrath. Of Draenor.

So, with what little they could spare was sent to Darkshore. It was the least they could do.

The First Archon’s brow furrowed as she ran an arcane layden finger over the circuits, sending controlled pulses to test the frequency sent out to all the auxiliary crystals. It was very hard to impress Vivaaldi, truly, but she had to admit Padruk did an excellent job.

Brow raised, she pursed her lips and she nodded her head in acknowledgement, before pausing abruptly to cough into the crook of her arm.

It was nearing the seasonal change of fall on this planet, but the ever present heat of summertime was still kicking around. The air around the islands were usually thick with humidity this time of year, so it wasn’t that uncommon to find it frustrating to breath when it was hot, but…

…. This year, it was unseasonably cold…

Slowly, Vivaaldi stood up and sniffed the air. It smelled of… smoke? Did someone light a pyre? It wasn’t night yet, there was no need. A fragrant wafted though the air, one that would pompously note during a dinner party with a group of nobles, as you dissect their “oaken flavoured wine.” for hints of fruit and what not.

But, the old wood they used for the pyres didn’t give off any fragrance.

From the corner of her eye, the Archon noticed something lazily floating in the breeze. A dark piece of debris. Something that looked akin to ash, as more and more and more appeared until…

“Oh Light... Oh Light! The tree!”

Quickly turning her head, Viv followed the panicked voice, as she and the people of Blood Watch beheld a horror so unfathomable none of them could immediately understand what they were watching.

For years, the draenei could behold the glorious world tree Teldrassil from their islands. It stood tall, imposing, as it sheltered the kaldorei within its branches. It was as much part of the horizon line as the setting sun at the end of the night.

But now it burned.

Vindicator Kuros was the first to speak, breaking the blanket of silence that befell them.

“Arcanists! Open a portal to Darnassus now”

Three mages snapped out of the revere, before scrambling off to the side, as they prepared to open the portal.

“Light help us, I hope we are not too late. Do we have word from the Exodar? Has someone contacted Velen?”

By now, the entire town was scrambling, people were quickly preparing for the survivors that would eventually find themselves upon their shores. Messages were coming in from all over Bloodmyst, Azuremyst and even the small island of Silvermyst. Peacekeepers, Vindicators, Arcanists, Anchorites, Shamans, all trying to believe what their eyes were seeing, while at the same time, preparing for the worst.

For the Horde navy, the Exodar would just be a hop, skip and a jump and the next likely target.

Closing the panel, Viv started to make her way over to the three arcanists. Three was, obviously, too many. While yes, one person could open a single portal, but in order to summon a portal large enough to ensure a massive amounts of people could get through, three would suffice.

“Portal opening in 3…” the countdown had begun, as the large arcanist announced over the panicked hum of the crowd.

“Do we know if the Vindicaar has been contacted yet? Can they send a teleporter down to Darnassus? Where is the Army of the Light?” Kuros continued to bellow.

“2…”

“Can we get in contact with Shattrath, to the Sha’tori Skyguard? Where is the Alliance army? Weren’t they supposed to be here by now?”

“1… contact is made, portal to Darnassus is op-ARRAAHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Kuros and the other draenei immediately stopped what they were doing, whipping their heads around as the horrid screams startled them. Blown back from the portal, covered in flames, the large arcanist rolled around in the dirt, to trying to put himself out. The other two mages stopped what they were doing to drag him away from the cone effect the portal was causing. As shamans, fellow mages and even some well meaning Vindicators, attempted to help put him out.

Vivaaldi rushed over, shutting down the portal as quickly as she could before running over to the group that crowded the crispy mage.

He was lucky, covering his face in time, the only thing that was severely charred was the sleeves of his robes.

“What the hell happened?” this time, it wasn’t Kuros that voice carried over the town. Vindicator Boros leap off his elekk and within a few strides, made it over to the group as they helped the poor smoldering arcanist up.

“W-We can’t…” the large man was struggling to breath, coughing because of the smoke caused by both the tree and his robes. Making a fist, he thumped his chest to try and stimulate his lungs, and get some clean air. “ We can’t open the portal sir, the flames…” he paused again, coughing. “... the flames are too intense!” the arcanist took a big gulp of air before looking Boros directly in the eyes. The despair and reality of the situation was finally starting to dawn on the people of Blood Watch, as the man finally said what they were all thinking.

“.... There is nothing we can do.”

In unison, the draenei turned, the weight of the situation bearing fruit as they watched Teldrassil burn.

“There is nothing we can do…”

The arcanists words echoed throughout each of their heads, as the blanket of reality - a blanket that was all too familiar with- fell on their shoulders. No matter how many soldiers they could sent to Darkshore to aid the kaldorei. now matter how healers they could send to aid the Priestesses and Druids…

... They could not, in all their power, in all their ancient knowledge and technology, in all their arcane prowess and tenacity, help them now…

“There is nothing we can do…”

Shiaan was one of the first shamans. Not Nobundo -esque first, but she did train under him and was part of the first wave of krokul to learn shamanism. She left Argus with her daughter and her family aboard the Genedar, like most of her kin who escaped from their home world. Due to her age, she was caught up in the Red Mist at Shattrath, causing her to de-evolve and  subsequently be cast out from her friends and family. But, thanks to Nobundo, she was able to feel… normal again. Though losing her connection to the Light, Shiaan was able to make a connection that -in her opinion- was a lot more meaningful.

The element of wind always reminded her of her grandchildren.

Shiaan had seen many horrors in her day, but this tree burning, didn’t have the impact that it should have on her. It was sad, but, it wasn’t the worst thing she had seen.

Suddenly, she stood up from her perch beside the arcanist, pausing to listen. Looking out towards the eastern sky and her eyes narrowed before she scrambled away from her crestfallen kin, as she scaled a nearby hill.

The sudden action from the old krokul caught Viv’s attention as she watched, curious, at what she was doing. All the woman did was scale a hill and look out to  the sky. But Viv wasn’t the only one that noticed, several people had already turned their attention from Teldrassil to sudden outburst from this old krokul.

After a brief moment of silence, Shiaan raised her arms towards the sky before closing her eyes. She took a breath, then began to move her arms in a rhythmic patterns.

The crowd murmured as more and more people started paying attention, wondering what the old woman was trying to doing. Even her fellow shaman were equally curious and confused.

A beat passed, then…

“Light, oh Light look! LOOK!”

The scout jabbed her finger into the air, pointing in the direction Shiaan had been looking, as a rather large, dark spot on the horizon was slowly moving towards them. Many scrambled to join Shiaan atop of the hill, squinting their eyes to get a better look.

As the spot got closer, they quickly realized…

There was still hope yet.

It was hard to make out, but many draenei recognized the familiar shape and horns of the hippogryphs. Noble creatures that live alongside the kaldorei, who also graciously lived alongside the draenei during the first couple of years on Azeroth.

But here, alone in the darkening, ash filled sky, was a hippogryph. Armored, as it were, carrying on it’s back what looked to be three kaldorei bodies, with one delicately held in one of its talons.  

With the aid of the element of wind, Shiaan guided the exhaused beast it towards her.

“Don’t stand there with your mouths agape like hungry marsuuls, HELP ME!” she ordered.

Quickly, several shaman joined with her, beseeching the element of wind to guide the feathered hero safely to shore. The wind, keeping it aloft, before finally -finally- it landing softly on the ground. The draenei were quick to removed the injured kaldorei, letting it know it’s duty was finally finished.

“Quickly, get Stephanos here to help the hippogryph! Get blankets and kits, hurry, HURRY!” Kuros carried a Sentinel in his arms, channeling the Light to relieve some of the burns.

The bird painted, Viv had never seen animals other than dogs do this, but she could only image the stress and heat it was under. A shaman cupped it’s hand as it channeled a pocket of air, holding it close to the hippogryph beak, so it could breath.

“More, there are more!” came Shiaans voice, though strained, the old woman didn’t seem to let up. She was right, on the horizon were three more dots, then four, then five, then another three more.

Shamans joined Shiaan,  using the element of wind to guide the exhausted beasts  who shepard their injured allies to safety. Feathers burnt and seared, the hippogryphs showed not a hint of weakness, only collapsing to the ground once they, and the survivors, were safe.

Some, much to Stephanos chagrin, died due to their injuries. They would get a heroes send off, honoured by both Elune and the Light for their heroic sacrifice.

Some kaldorei weren’t unconscious, like the first batch was that was flown in, but we're already so close to passing out. Vivaaldi and the other arcanists were already prepared, casting Slow Fall on those that fell from their saddles because they didn't have the energy to stay awake. Vindicators were at the ready, catching those that floated gently towards the ground.

It was roughly estimated that, about, fifteen hippogryphs made it to the island. Carrying anywhere between five to eight kaldorei, humans, gnomes, dwarves, worgen, anyone, on their backs.

Stephanos and other hippogryph keepers, even the elekk caretakers, were able to roughly save half the noble armored birds. Elekks carried them back to the Exodar on their backs, where they could be properly taken care of.

Blood Watch was a buzz as the wounded were tended to, while others were ordered to keep their eyes on the skies for more survivors.

Others -those that couldn’t heal or were much too antsy- watched out for any encroaching Horde.