Whisperlash

Crimson silk swirled as Whisper stode along the hardened pathway out of the drag. Slightly behind her on her right Piplop bounded along, careful to remain just behind his mistress, Whisper did not tolerate the slightest defiance or disobedience from her minions, even the doomguard that served her did so submissively. She was a young warlock, but one of immense power, at times frightening her instructors with the immensity of what she could do. A faint shimmer remained around her, a blessing of Elune from Tyrande, given when Whisper and her comrades had gone back in time and retrieved the Dragonsoul, assisting Tyrande and Illidan against Mannoroth in the process.

Beside her Sunwolf walked, his own pet running ahead to leap on a lizard that had made the fatal mistake of showing itself, the massive glowing leopard swallowed the lizard down, glancing back at her master before bounding farther ahead to the small fresh pool beneath the waterfall as they came into the Vally of Wisdom. Sunwolf glanced sideways at Whisper curiously, the lighthearted Blood Elf was himself a lethal force, and shimmered with the same blessing as Whisper, he had dealt out immense destruction on Mannoroths forces, but what he had done had been a shadow of what Whisper had done, she had nearly killed Mannoroth, the great demaon had only been saved by being pulled away from them and out of their dimension when the Dragonsoul had been freed and taken by Nozdormu. The leader of the bronze flight had eyed Whisper seriously, and warned her "Do not again attempt to change the course of time young Warlock, Mannoroths destiny is set, the path must unfold that has been laid, his death here would have unravelled far more than you could imagine." Whisper had met his gaze calmly "My people were never meant to be slaves." She replied "especially not to demons." Nozdormu had looked into her eyes for a moment, and she hadn't looked away, meeting the dragons gaze with a confidence that had surprised Sunwolf, though he had known Whisper for a good while. "That is not for you to decide. The Dragonsoul is safe, I shall take it to Thrall and return you home, there will be a summon to you if you are needed again, expect it, be ready."

And now they had just left Whispers mentor, who had smiled knowingly when he had restored Piplop to life, the little demon had been destroyed during the battle with Mannoroth. The others were getting gear repaired, or were resting, Whisper had insisted she wanted her hair done before she rested "It reeks of arcane and fel magics, I prefer cinnamon." She had told their friends. Sunwolfs long golden hair gleamed in the sun, he smelled more of sun and wind than anything else, but had insisted he too needed to be pampered by the goblins in the spa by the vally of wisdom. "Stop with the glances Sunny." Whisper said quietly as they neared the entrance to the spa, a lovely Goblin saw them and smiled, waving "Come to relax my friends! We're running a special today!" Sunwolf leaned in close to Whisper, smelling the arcane and fel that she had complained about and ignoring it "You're acting oddly love, I dont ignore things like that, goes against my nature." With that he put an arm around her and hugged her against his side, a movement that surprised her and made her blush, but she didn't pull away and walked into the salon stopping to return his hug affectionately before turning to the Goblins "I want a make over, and pamper Piplop, he's had a hard day." She told them, and tossed a generous amount of gold into the hand of the Goblin who had greeted them "Make the Blood Elf gleam." she added with a smile at Sunwolf, who beamed back at her, blowing her a kiss before being led away by fawning Goblins.

The Paladins

"It is NOT for you to decide!" Thrazians voice boomed and the lithe young Blood Elf almost winced away from setting her hand on the chargers muzzle. The great black Thallasian Charger set radiant red eyes on her, he was 12 years old, a breeding stallion, one of the finest, his spirit was such that Thrazian, master of horses for the Silverwing Order, an elite company of Paladins led by her father, Thrazian had set this stallion aside, knowing he would not be ridden, that his blazing spirit would create the fearless, powerful chargers needed by the Paladins. Initiates like young Vereno were exposed to 3 and 4 year olds of more even temperaments, without many experiences, so they would bring less into the relationship with their Paladin masters that they would carry for their entire lives. The bond would connect the spirits of Paladin and Charger, the Charger would live as long as the Paladin did, gifted a sort of immortality, Thallasian Chargers that died in battle could be brought back whole and well so long as their Paladins lived, when the Paladin died, the Charger died as well, usually in the exact same instant.

Vereno knew all of this, she had worked hard under her fathers unforgiving eyes, earning the wing of silver that now adorned her sword, shield and armor, the same wing that would embellish her Chargers headstall and saddle. She had walked past the paddock where 5 young Thallasians had stood at the fence, straight to the head gate of the pasture where this Stallion stood, dirt crusted on his hide, his mane long and tangled from weeks out in the woods with the mares, there were scars on his face and one on his left shoulder, the stallions were not kept seperated, precious as they were, only the strongest and most powerful spirits were to carry on their genes, so the battles of the stallions over mares were allowed, nearly every season one or two stallions were killed in battle, unwilling to concede supremacy to another. Vereno stroked the stallions muzzle, meeting his glowing red gaze. "VERENO, leave him be! The younglings are for your attention and we haven't got time for you to daydream today." Her fathers voice carried, and this time she struggled not to wince, Thrazian was intimidating, her father though could be terrifying, still, her eyes could not leave the stallions.

The glowing red was fire, and she felt the strength of it, her hand flew back in the same instant the stallion decided to bite it, she felt his decision, felt his challenge and defiance and instead of pushing her away, it drew her like a moth to an inferno. Jealyn Silverwing narrowed his eyes, ired by his daughters lack of response, he was stepping forward to grab her shoulder but Thrazian stopped him "Wait..." Thrazian said softly, Jealyn looked at him then back at his daughter, standing before the massive prized stallion, the stud pinned his ears and lunged to bite, but Verenos hand withdrew, only as far as the lunge, which stopped short. The stallions ears pricked, and his head flew up, great head turning, glowing red eye fully on Vereno. He pawed, tail lashing, his closed his eyes and tossed his head, partially rearing up with a defient squeel, he whirled away, lunging as if to race back to the woods but took only a single leap, skidding in the damp grass. His head flew up again, turning, glowing gaze riveted on Vereno who stepped to the gate.

"No." Trazian breathed, Jealyn shook his head as the stallion turned and slid his massive head under Verenos hands "Only MY daughter would so defy tradition." He said, unable to keep the slight pride out of his voice.  Vereno heard him, but he sounded distant, she was entangled in the flames of Charger, he was a blaze of power, the other Thallasians were like sparks compared to his inferno, it was his name she realized "Inferno" she said quietly.
"It fits him, I've always wondered what his name was." Thrazian said behind her. Thallasians were never named, they chose their own, and if they never bonded to someone, their names were never known. Thrazian stepped up to open the gate, Inferno glared at him, lunging out and Thrazian barely dodged him with a yelp. "Time is short, I'm sorry to press but he needs to be groomed and fitted for armor immediately." Thrazian said, half to Vereno, half to Inferno, not meeting the stallions steady aggressive gaze. Vereno smiled, reaching to the latch "I'll take him to the barn." She said, opening the gate. Inferno exploded out, neck arched, tail flagged he charged the fenceline where the young horses were, they all wheeled and raced away to the far side of their paddock with wide eyes. Inferno stood at the fence, glaring it them, stamping a hoof and snorting before turning to rejoin Vereno and follow her to the barn.

"So, you took an old horse and that was bad?" Dooku took a long drink of his mead, "It would seem an elder horse with wisdom would be best for a young troublemaker." He observed with a smile. Vereno smiled "Well, it's tradition in all the orders for an initiate Paladin to bond with a young unproven Charger. And Inferno is a prime breeding stallion." Dooku nodded, next to Vereno Stormy shook her head "It is different with Sunwalkers, our Kodo are seasoned and wise when we are brought to be chosen by the one that will be ours." She observed "Xoonu was 18 when she selected me." Vereno shrugged "Makes sense, they need to be healthy and mature to carry something as big as you."

Lulabells

The Silent Storm

     Kissaka stared into the flame as it danced on the wick, lost in thought. The noises of the inn were lost to her, they had been for some time. The clans were in chaos. Garrosh was energetic, he was passionate, but in Nagrand he had let his people suffer and die while he wallowed in self pity and imagined shame. Hi victories in Northrend, to Kissaka, paled in signifigance next to how easily he had been weak and a poor leader when he had believed his family was not glorious. How could a leader so lost in pride be a good one? Kissaka squeezed her eyes shut on the thought, it hurt her, she was devoted to her warchief, to the brave and wise warchief, the one that was NOT in Orgrimmar, the one out fighting for Azeroth instead of plotting for his personal glory.

     Unlike many of her people, Kissaka did not "buy" that Garrosh was motivated to elevate his people, were that true than he would have risen to their aid in Nagrand, he would have fought when shame tainted his glory, risen above it, proved a great heart and shone as a great leader, instead, he had been weak, drowning in self pity and letting his people suffer. He had no heart where it mattered in Kissakas eyes, his heart did not burn without easy fuel, and she had no respect for it. She was far from alone. Vol Jin fumed to the south, waiting for the certain day when Garrosh would show his true self, the coward, the weak will, when it came to the surface again, Vol Jin had an arrow ready to pierce that weak heart. The Tauren quietly fumed, enraged by the murder of Cairne. While the Grimtotem had poisoned the blade, Garrosh had swung it, and for no good reason, a great leader did not fight with their greatest allies.
     The Blood Elves stood back, their emissaries kept distance now, rushing work on their own walls and rebuilding their own defenses, sending as few soldiers to Garrosh' call as they could get away with. Kissaka knew many of them, none even remotely cared for Garrosh, and most detested his methods of rule. Then there was the Forsaken, Sylvanas was straining at the very edge of control, she had her own agenda, and it rarely matched up with what the Horde wanted. Her methods were often reprehensable, her cruelty was too much even for the hardest warriors among the Orcs to overlook. Kissaka did not doubt the Banshee Queen would again shame the Horde, there was no doubt the Forsaken cared nothing for what their Horde allies sought. When the Lich King had been defeated, and Kissaka had been there, his blood had stained the leather of her boots, Sylvanas had been angry that her blade has not joined those of the champions who had felled Arthas, angry, not relieved, not grateful he was gone, angry. Kissaka wouldn't soon forget the Banshee queen standing before her, how she had extended a hand and wiped blood from Kissakas armor with a finger, then tasted it and glared. "My thirst for vengence is not sated." she had whispered, glowing eyes boring into Kissakas. "Your thirst matters less than the worlds need for his destruction Sylvanas." Cairne had said, the great Tauren standing nearby, Storm and Dooku flanking him, they too bearing the discolored undead blood of the Lich King on their armor.
     Sylvanas rounded on the Chieftain "Silence beast, you know nothing of the debt of suffering Arthas owed me!" She snapped. Cairne had immediately straightened himself to his full, very impressive hieght, Dooku and Storms hands went to their weapons "You shame yourself with your hostility toward allies Sylvanas." A cool voice had spoken, and all eyes turned to Thrall, who strode up to Kissaka and rested a hand on her shoulder, at that moment Kissaka had realized her own hand had closed on the hilt of her Mace, under Thralls touch she released it instantly, but her eyes never fell from the Banshee Queens face. Sylvanas lowered her gaze, but the blaze did not leave her, the air still held her fury "I appologize Cairne, this day has been a trial for all, and I am of course deeply happy for the Horde and all of Azeroth."
     The Banshee queen had been long in leaving Ice Crown, she had argued with Fordring about wanting the body of the Lich King "I wish to be the one to dispose of him." she had insisted. What had come of that argument Kissaka did not know, for she had dutifully followed Thrall from Ice Crown, returning to Orgrimmar a hero. Had she had parents there would have been many offers for her to her father. Suddenly her orphan status, and complete lack of a traceable bloodline because she had been found in a burned out village by a Tauren Matron as an infant, none of that mattered, she was Kissaka, The Kingslayer. Many fine young Orcs of great lineage would happily take her as a mate.

     To her surprise, Thrall himself had intercepted the offers, and quickly submissions were sent to him instead of to Kissaka. He had called her before him one evening and waved a hand over the piles of scrolls bearing the seals of every prominent clan in Durotar and beyond. "You can marry well Kissaka." He had smiled "If ever you wished to join a clan and have a family, now the richest choices are before you. I am proud to act as your guardian in this matter if you wish." She looked up at him "I am honored my Warchief, but I seek no marriage, I am a Shaman, I serve you and the elements and wish nothing more." He had nodded "I will handle these submissions then, and any more that come, and accept your service gladly, but I will keep these, the best of them, should you change your mind." He had turned from her, looking into the fire that burned cheerfully in a brazier near his throne, when he spoke it was quietly  "Our people are spread far Kissaka, the greatest among us often taking no time to see our lines live beyond us. I would urge you not to close your mind to taking a mate, a Heart that burns as yours does, should not fade and be lost to the ages." The softness of the words surprised her, and she nodded "I will not close my mind to it my Warchief, only for now I feel my path still heads to serve as a fighter for my people."

     Thrall had looked at her then, his light eyes searching so hard she had struggled to hold his gaze and not look away. "Let us hope the fighting is past us and your path will wind down more restful directions." He had said. The following day, the first of the elemental invasions into Orgrimmar had occured, and the Twilight Cultists had begun their infiltration into every part of Durotar and beyond.

     Kissaka sat in the Inn, in the "new" Orgrimmar. Thrall was off battling for Azeroth, Garrosh sat smug in his throne room, and she was at a loss for what to do. Chaos ruled so well that even great veterans like herself spent much time uncertain of where they should be and what they should be doing. "You look entirely too serious right now." A light voice quiped. Kissaka blinked and looked up as Vereno fell into a seat across the table from her while waving at the barkeep for a drink. "I was thinking about our Warchief." Kissaka smiled in spite of herself. Vereno tossed her shield and sword beside Kissakas, the weapons and shields glowed menacingly and Vereno made shadow puppets off the light cast on the wall beside them. "The real one or the mentally challenged ass in the throne room?" She asked. "Ahh, mentally challenged asses? We must be discussing Garrosh" a higher pitched voice full of laughter said quietly, both turned as a well armored Goblin strode up and tossed her own glowing weapon and shield over with the others "Your dog looks off, more ear less teeth." She added, sliding to a spot where she could make shadow puppets alongside Vereno.
     "It is difficult to maintain a serious train of thought around you two at times." Kissaka grinned, grateful of how her mood had lightened with the arrival of her friends. "Well, it depends on where the train is headed." Now Dooku arrived, and took over an entire side of the table, his staff added to the pile adding a bright glow that had both Vereno and Nytemoon grinning and jockeying for the best spot. "Warchief, clans in disarray, dissention among the leadership..." Kissaka waved a hand. "The usual Kissaka gloom." Vereno smiled, barely wincing when Kissaka kicked her under the table. "I need to have the padding in my boots replaced, I shouldn't have felt that." She observed "Mine are elementium tipped." Kissaka responded. They all laughed as the barkeep delivered a round of drinks.
     "My people are not fond of Garrosh, though I think the trolls will move fastest when Thrall returns to, er..."escort" Garrosh from power." They all nodded at Dooku's statement. "I've had dozens upon dozens of marriage proposals since we returned from Northrend, open armed invitations to take a place within a prominent clan. I am not tempted though, I am instead thinking perhaps a new clan should rise in Durotar, a clan of loyalists to Thrall and the honorable leadership of the Horde." Her voice lowered at the last, in Orgrimmar, Garrosh kept ears about, always fearing the twilight infiltrators, and those not loyal to him, who spoke of their discontent too loudly, tended to dissapear these days. "So you would create a clan instead of join one?" Dooku eyed her curiously. Kissaka nodded "Perhaps it is time, and I would not limit the blood right to orcs, for not only orcs have bled for the horde, we do not hold the only honor, and do not stand alone anymore."

     Vereno waved her hands "Wait wait wait...." She leaned in, eyes narrowed, all mirth gone from her expression, she met Kissakas blue grey eyes with her own glowing green gaze and held it for a few moments, suddenly the corner of her mouth turned upward "someone actually wants to MARRY you?!" Kissaka moved fast, reaching down she caught the elf by the ankle and yanked her down off her chair, her rear hitting the wooden floor hard, Vereno kicked her hand away, grabbing at her boots trying to drag her from her chair while Dooku and Nytemoon laughed. "You two quit, you knock the furniture around I'll knock you out of here!" the barkeep yelled. Vereno was up in her seat looking angelic within an instant, though she landed a good kick into Kissakas knee.
     Dooku guffawed once more, leaning forward to slam a massive fist on the table, they all scrambled to keep their drinks upright as he leaned in and said queietly "Tauren would join such a clan." a moment later Nytemoon said "Goblins could find an angle in such a clan." Vereno eyed them all in turn and smiled "Blood Elves would find their way to it as well,....if only guided by the smell." The hand that grabbed her this time wasn't Kissakas, and they all were laughing heartily again a moment later while the barkeep scowled at them.
    

Within

Fire, the heat of it was a base energy, physical, but deeper than that was the energy that made it. Fire was a consuming energy, born of two things, what it was consuming, and what drove it, which was air. Fire could not exhist without the cooperation of air, and while Fire was it's own element, ultimately, it's exhistance was dictated by the free and fleet element of air. To call fire, you called both elements to service, it required concentration, discipline. The elements did not serve mindlessly, one earned their service, there had to be humility and gratitude, there had to be a nobility of purpose, otherwise, in the midst of a time when their pressence was most needed, you could call and nothing would come. Discipline, an inner calm in order to maintain a link to the elements, for a chaotic mind could not stay open to the subtleties of the elemental communication.
"You're an ASS." The blood elf quiped in an irritated tone as an explosion of diseased destruction blew her hair back. "You're an Idiot" The warrior battling the large undead beast snapped back. Kissaka closed her eyes, releasing a massive ball of molten power from her hands into the undead creature they were fighting and trying with immense effort to maintain her focus and calm and link to the elements she needed while Vereno argued with the mercenary they had hired to assist them in their probe into Shadowfang Keep. The blood elf and the orc had disliked each other from the moment they met, Kissaka, Dominon and Kesner had exchanged concerned glances after the first time the occupants of Shadowfang had driven them out while the pair had clashed. It didn't happen often that they were pushed out of an objective, they were well experienced, and knew too well how to fight the scourge, the two Death Knights even more knowledgable than the young Shaman.

Some time later Kissaka eyed Vereno and shook her head with a smile, sitting heavily in the decayed kitchen of the keep where the mercenary had finally left them. "You have such a way with people sometimes Vereno." She chuckled. Vereno shrugged, still miffed "He was a jerk." Kesner chuckled nearby "Well, yeah, a skilled jerk, but yeah. Better Dooku help us anyway, I wasn't sure about that fellows loyalties." The Goblin was cleaning his mace, they would wait for Dominon to return with Dooku, the Druid was better experienced than the mercenary, and a part of their guild. It would be better to have the sort of trust and common experience the guild shared in this probe.

 "Better this way" Dominons voice carried into them as he and Dooku strode into the kitchen "Now maybe you can concentrate and keep us alive, your healing was....um....spotty there, hopefully you will heal this frontman?" Dooku raised a brow at Vereno who grinned "I would never deny healing to a frontman." They all exchanged glances over the blood left by the mercenary, the air changed for a moment, and where a huge Tauren had stood, a massive black bear now gazed at Vereno. "Besides, " Vereno smiled "I think Dooku would eat me if I didn't keep him healthy."

Of the moon

The vastness of the world could never be so evident than when the wind blew. Farnley drew in deep breaths, revelling in all the scents the wind brought him. Grass was growing thicker and greener in the afternoon so close to spring. Somewhere a rabbit hid, farther off a bear, damp with sea water, was eating berries. So many of his people were so miserable, some had even killed themselves, but this "curse" to Farnley, was a gift.

He stood off the road, in the shadow of a bush, his great body hidden by it and a tree, anyone on the road below him would not have a hope of seeing him. When he stood up straight he was fully 10 feet tall, his yellow eyes piercing from a sharp face covered with glossy black fur. Some Gilneans not "cursed" hunted those that were, hoping to purge the curse from their people, Genn had been wise to lead them from Gilneas and take the offered hand of the Night Elves. Out in the world, the hunters of the cursed ones would themselves be easy to hunt. The thought of having Godfrey within his grasp...Farnley dug 6 inch claws into the bark of the tree beside him, how devine it would be to sink those claws into the one who led those who wanted the cursed dead.
"We have naga that need that attention more than that tree does." a calm voice said, few things could surprise Farnley, but his friend Maugrim was capable of sneaking up on him. He laid his ears back, turning his head to cast a bemused smile at Maugrim "I was just thinking of Lord Godfrey." he said, digging his claws in deeper "Then the tree should have been torn down by now." Loco leaned against a tree behind Maugrim, her yellow eyes bright in her dark face, her entire family had been slain by Godfrey, more than Farnley and Maugrim, she had reason to hate him. Farnley withdrew his claws, and patted the tree "our Night Elf friends would not care for me treating trees like I would like to treat Godfrey, for their sake, I am restrained." He smiled, long fangs shining in the fading light as twilight moved in.
Loco smiled "Well, I'll leave the elves to hug their trees, we need to clear out some naga, tis a task I find more to my liking than tree hugging." She dropped to all fours and lept past him, shooting ahead with stunning speed. Maugrim cast him a brief grin then shot off after Loco. Digging in with his hind claws, Farnley lept after them and soon was again reveling in scents compounded by the joy of speed. Farnley had been a craftsman working late on an armor set for Maugrim when a worgen had grabbed him from the shadows, sinking fangs into his shoulder then releasing him and disapearing. He had fallen sick, Maugrim had come to try and help him, but had quickly moved him from his home to the basement below a stable nearby, where Loco had told him what had happened. "There is no recovery, there is only control, you are one of us now, a son of the moon." and he had been given the elixer that had nearly killed him.
The months that followed had been chaos. They were hunted endlessly, investigators visited Farnley over and over at his shop asking after Loco "Her family is frightened for her, they have safely moved to the medical compound and want her with them." he was told. He would meet their gazes "I barely knew her, and I have not seen her since her family left." 
The attacks of the Forsaken became worse, Farnley would never forget the first time he had seen Sylvanas. He had been hidden in the sacred water of a baptismal in a church beside Loco and Maugrim. She was stunning, in a deadly..evil..dead way, and carried an air of pure, deep, viciousness beyond even the most wild of the worgen. An orc warlord had met her gaze without the slightest bit of fear, meeting the eyes of the undead queen calmly, he was an impressive being in his own right, the orc, Farnley had seen few of them until that day. The Horde wanted Gilneas taken, there had even been emmisaries that had breeched the idea of joining the horde to Gilnean lords. For a time the debates over that had been heated, especially among the worgen who knew they would likely be best accepted by the people of the horde, Godfrey and his croonies had won out, and ultimately, loyalty to Greymane was the decider.
Farnley had a talent for stealth, he had always been amazingly good at hunting, and even before the gift had come to him, he had been able to get anywhere he wanted to go reguardless of locked doors, guards etc, and had stunned his instructors with his natural skill with daggers and swords. His first passion though was always working with leather, even as they travelled, working for the Night Elves, "Being Night Elf errand boys" Maugrim called it, Loco said it was the best way to increase the standing of their people within the alliance. Even as they ran errands, he would screech to a halt and dash off when he spotted a bear with a particularily fine hide, making Loco and Maugrim wait while he dispatched the animal, skinned it and set it's hide, carefully salted, into his pack for later use. "Well, I guess we will never lack for meat." Loco had sighed the last time Farnley had made them wait.
Whether the Alliance people would ever accept the worgen remained to be seen. Farnley had spent time in Stormwind, selling some hides and a few of his armor sets so they would have travelling money. So long as the moon was not up and full, he could choose to walk in his human form, and nobody would give him a second glance, but if he walked about, 10 feet tall, 6 inch claws clicking on the paving stones, the people of the allliance recoiled. Women would yank their children behind their skirts, as if he might grab and devour them, and merchants wrinkled their noses when he stood near, as if the smell of the sun on his pelt was worse than the stink of their unwashed sweaty skin.
So he took to doing his trading in his human form, not willing to accept less for his work just because some fool was frightened or repulsed by him. The rest of the time though, he stood proudly as what he was, and had no problem baring fangs and rumbling a growl at anyone who looked sideways at him, he'd already cracked a stormwind guard like a shiny egg for a comment about being "nasty unwashed dog, Varian should keep you on chains." The dead guards fellows had admitted he had taunted Farnley, and Varian had let him go, Genn had been much less forgiving, ordering Farnley to behave himself and warning him that the next time he killed someone he WOULD end up on a chain. "Were it not for your service helping our people escape Gilneas, you would be on a chain now Farnley, do not shame your people or your king again, CONTROL the beast within or you deserve to be called such names." He had felt badly about it, well, for his king being upset, he honestly felt no remorse over the dead guard, fear born respect was better than no respect, when they had left the city, walking past the guards, he could smell the fear on them, and not a word was spoken by any of them.

Kissaka

The wind was soft, it did not hold the chill that Kissaka had grown used to during her campaigns in Northrend. It was quiet, though she could hear the un-natural rumblings of ruined earth nearby. He closed her heel and lifted a rein, softly clucking, Rirastrasz turned his head slightly to fix a great green eye on her, she nodded toward the Platau below them and the great red drake descended silently, landing without a sound and with barely a blade of grass bent by his wings. They had been together for a long time, only her wolf Kredack, had been with her longer. A troll looked up from his mug as she slid from her drakes back to join him. "The others aren't here yet." Tawhiri told her "But there are Alliance attempting the trial already, have a look." Kissaka stepped to the edge of the platau, careful to sheild herself by peering through a bush, below 5 Alliance we battling the giant un-dead creature that was the third challenge. The Crucible of Carnage the Goblins called it. Stored under guard nearby were powerful weapons, crafted by the finest smiths in Azeroth and enchanted by powerful specialists to enhance their performance. A mace awaited Kissaka if she and her friends could defeat the challenge.