The Ironsong Tribe

Coranda blinked at Zlinka through her tears and bit back a sob. She shook her head to clear it, mangled bells on her horns making an odd clang.

"I... *sniffle* I can *hic* ... I can help."

The request was just what she needed to snap her out of what would have become a full-fledged tantrum borne of separation anxiety. She was needed. She didn't have time to wonder what had happened, because she was needed. She could draw on her power through her bereavement, and her Tribe needed her. Need. That was the only important thing.

Reaching for the wells of energy that had replenished, she pulled forth wave after wave of warm healing light. It was harder than usual, manually directing something that had always just happened. It was like learning to walk again after a stroke. The capacity was there, but you had to build the connections all over again.

Still, she poured herself into Anca, spinning a golden thread of energy out for the little Kor'kron to follow back to life. If she could just speak to the Earthmother ... if she could just hear ... she could pull the child from the depths of death herself. Now, though ... now all she could do was show the way.

Melikar had reached the edge of the woods after walking for what seemed too long. From where he'd been, the walk only seemed a short distance away. But he must have spent the better part of an hour just getting there.

As he stepped past the first tree, he noticed they were thick evergreens. The snow appeared in patches along the ground here, areas where the branches overhead had not spread wide enough to cover. Other than the occasional snow patch, the rest of the earth was covered in browned evergreen needles. His feet made soft thuds as he continued to walk, surveying his surroundings. At least here, the harshness of the snow was greatly diminished. The cold, however, did not let up so easily.

He was torn as to what to do first. Find a place to set up a small fire and buckle in for the day or go about finding what was left of the zeppelin. If no one survived, he could just be killing himself by going out there. Then again, it wasn't like he had much of a choice. He could just as easily die in these woods then out there. And besides, people could seriously need him by this point.

He continued walking for a short distance, trying to see if there was any way he could take note of where he was. He spotted a small circular spot on the ground that no trees occupied. It was big enough for placing a fire and it had places to sit among the tree trunks. Nodding once to himself in satisfaction, he began to drag his foot along the ground, creating a darkened ring of needles and dirt around the area in question. This way, he would remember for sure that this was the same spot from before.

Now, he would head out and see who he could find. But he also couldn't lose his way back. Glancing around, he spotted a large branch of still-green needles. For the average man, this branch would've been tough to heft around, but to the troll, it was like carrying any normal walking stick. He picked it up and began to immediately pick off twigs and small sections of deep, green needles. As he walked away from the circle, he left a trail among the brown needles already on the earth. And so he continued with this trail method until he reached the edge of the forest once again.

He knew there was little to no way he could keep track in the snow of where he was going. He had decided on not heading back the way he came since he saw nothing as he had traveled in. Now, he was on the other side of the section of trees and could still only see a white blanket. Sighing, he figured it was best to take a look around for-

He stopped his train of thought instantly, quickly turning around to look back the way he had come. He could've sworn he heard something behind him. Something too big to be the wind through the trees. He took a few moments to just stand there, listening for any strange sounds. But none were forth coming. Feeling as though he were being paranoid, he stepped forward into the snow hillside, looking for any sign of the tribe or the zeppelin. He didn't have long to look, however.

He stopped once again, a sudden irritation entering his mind. It was as if some stranger had opened the front door to his home and just walked right in. And just as he was about to react, the world around him slipped into darkness.

(( sorry this is so late ))

Lucinther Drifted down from the falling ship, his parachute holding up quite well. Suddenly his chute caught fire.
"Damn engineering..... this is going to hurt."
He fell, hitting the ground hard as he tried to roll into the fall. Luckily his agility saved him and he rolled onto his feet, a little battered, but doing well considering the height of his fall.
He looked to the wreckage and saw the battle that was being waged. He sprinted to join into the fight, occasionally hiding in the shadows and ambushing any scourge that came to close. As he came upon the downed airship he spotted Dispaya and made his way over to the mage.
"Whats our Status? Where do you need me?"

END Part II

BEGIN - PART III - Conclusions

*Time to start wrapping up threads and bring the story to a close.

Zlinka watched anxiously as Coranda poured all her healing energy into Anca. Did Anca's hands grow a little warmer? Did her breathing grow a little deeper? Zlinka could not distinguish reality from her own powerful wish for the child to be healed.

Regardless, there was no point in standing in the open, exposed to the biting wind. Carrying the child, Zlinka hiked with Coranda back to the wreck, breaking their way through the snow.

On their way up they came upon Dergash struggling through the snow. The orc's hair was as white as the surrounding drifts, and his face was drawn and grey. He looked beyond exhausted, shoulders drooping, robes trailing.

Lucinther was there, too. Grim but unhurt, he held a few scraps of singed parachute under his arm. A dragon whelp flew around them, agitated and chirping. A little further up Oryx fell into step, breaking a path for them with his great hooves.

And so, one by one, the stragglers joined the rest of the Tribe around the wreck. The high crying continued. Zlinka laid Anca down in a broken cargo box, sheltered from the wind, and wrapped the child in her cloak. Then she crunched through the snow to a knot of Tribesmates.

They were gathered around two forms. One was standing, distraught, possessed, keening. Dispaya. The other lay still on the ground. Krell.

Tears rose in her eyes but the cold wind whipped them away. Zlinka set her jaw. Grief would not help her now. She turned to the one who was nearer to death.

She knelt by Krell’s side and took his hand. "Krell," she whispered, "You were the first Tribesmate to show me kindness. My first day in the Tribe, you asked whether I planned to stay, and I said yes. Then you gave me this."

Zlinka pulled a piece of leather from her pocket, worn and supple. It had been a piece of armor once, a shadowcraft bracer, but it was all unstitched and flattened now, soft with years of riding in her pocket.

Zlinka put it under Krell’s hand and wrapped his fingers around it. "Now, I ask you the same question… will you stay with us, Krell?"

Then she stood up. She looked at Coranda and Oryx, "Maybe the two of you together will be stronger than either one alone."

Then her gaze turned, searchingly, to Dergash. "You, warlock, you who know the ways of stolen souls... can you help?"

Then she looked at everyone around her. "I only have bandages. I am no healer. Can anyone help?"

Karnma began to awaken, slowly he lifted his head and looked around dazed. suddenly he rembered the claw of the gargolye shooting from the door and kocking him out. he jumped up, looking around to see if the tribe was ok. The scourge had gone, that was good...but has he looked around he saw a lifeless Anca in front of Coranda, trying hard to fight back tears.

He ran upon the wind, unaware he was even doing so, his mind lost in fear that somthing had gone horribly wrong.
"Cor..whaat happenin? ....she be..?" he asked as she used what little healing energy she could on the small body in front of her.
Coranda turned, fighting tears from her eyes. "It's the..Earthmother..I..I can't.." She stopped there fighting back the flow of emotions to focous on Anca.

Karnma knew instantly what was going on, hearing stories of how important this Earthmother was to Coranda, only one thing could make her so upset with her name mentioned, and the lack of power she was able to muster.

"..Mi know how haard it be...if shi dwont be listenin' to ya..if ya caant talk to her..buwt we caant let dat let us lose owha own ere'..." Karnma thought for a moment as she tried again in vain to call upon some power to help...

"Cor...if da Heleament's nowt be listin'ing to yah..if deh be to far away ta hear yu..den wi gwotta try somtin diffrent.." he said as he began to remove his shirt and expose his chest to the biting cold to witch he adjusted immediately. A spot near where his heart should be began to glow with a green light and his skin began to shift. "Now Cor...mi nevah been able ta get dis helemental powah to work on da healin side of tings..but mi know it be deh...it fi be up to yu..yu need ta call out to dat helemental side of mi..and use it if ya gownna save dem. Da powha of Life itself be in ere'..only one as hexperenced as yu wit dat powha caan hope ta be usin' it."

Karnma took Corandas left hand and placed it upon his glowing chest, his thoughts and a small ammount of energy began to leak into her as thier thoughts connected. "Call out...its ok.." Coranda heard in her mind, like a warm breeze upon her thoughts. "I'll answer."

Lucinther gazed around after he had been briefed on the situation. Much was still unknown. He watched as Zlinka fought back her tears over the fallen hunter. Then he spotted Anca.
He pushed past Karnma and looked Coranda dead in the eyes. " You need to snap out of it!"
Coranda only responded with a confused blank stare. He turned to Karnma, " Get some healing potions and some bandages... This is going to sting a bit." He looked again at Coranda, " I'm going to need your help... you need to pull it together!" He was almost shouting.

He pulled out his Gnomish Army Knife and attached his Goblin Jumper Cables ( XL Model) to one side of the battery. When he finished he took out a second set of cables and attached one end onto the mind amplification dish he had attached to his helmet. He leaned over, listening to the child's breathing and her shallow heartbeat. The kid had saved him before, now it was his turn to save her. " You're gonna be alright kid... I promise."

He stood back up and looked at Coranda. "I've never tried this before.... so I don't know how much healing you'll have to do..." He turned back around and attached the free ends of the cables to Anca's chain mail armor. Reaching up, he turned on the mind amplification dish and the plate atop it started to spin rapidly. He switched on the battery on his gnomish army knife and it began drawing power from his helmet. Soon, the knife's battery was sparking violently ( much like a shaman's lightning spell) as it overloaded with excessive power.

"This is gonna hurt a bit..." He winced as he slammed the defibrillator's power surge button. The initial shock of energy sent him flying several feat backwards, his helmet coming off his head. He landed against the wreckage and sat dazed for a long moment.

At the same time that Lucinther was thrown backwards, Anca's body tensed as all of her muscles contracted violently at one time.

The rogue stood, barely able to keep his feet under him. He hobbled over to Anca and fell to his knees. He could visibly tell that her breathing had become steadier. He collapsed, face down in the snow, his body smoking. What flesh was left on his bones was now badly burnt and the air around him began to take on the acrid sent of burning flesh. He fell into the darkness that slowly began to close in on his mind. He slept. The last thing he heard was a considerably stronger heartbeat from the child he had collapsed next to.

Dispaya knelt in the snow. Her eyes were wide and blank. To everyone around her she was silent. Inside her mind a battle was now raging for control of her very essence.

It had been ages since she had been cleansed of the taint of Arthas her former Master. It was one thing to break free from the bondage of the scourge. It was quite another to draw their essence back in willingly.

Dispaya's mind battled the will of Arthas...

"I am Dispaya"
"I am the White Lady"
"I am human"
"You are Scourge"
"I am Scourge"
"I am Forsaken"
"I am Caroline"
"You are Mine"
"I am yours"
"I am free"
"You are mine"
"I am free"
"Come home"
I am Dispaya"
"You are Scourge"
"I am Ironsong"
"You are lost"
"I am Caroline"
"Return"
"Who are you?"
"Who am I?
"Who was I?"
"Who will you become?"
"Dispaya"
"Caroline"
"The White Lady"
"Scourge"
"Forsaken"
"Human"
"Living"
"Dead"
"Dead"
"You are dead"
"No longer alive"
"Dead"
"Dead"
"Dead"
"I am dead..."
"I was alive...now I am dead..."
"I am...lost...

The concern of her Tribemates - the need of her Tribemates - brought Coranda out of her stupor. As hard as it was, she reached and reached, pulling in energy from Karnma, from Oryx, and even what little she could from Dergash, willing it back out in streams of golden light, bouncing from Tribemate to Tribemate, healing what she could.

It was so hard. Her head was pounding. Even with her connection to the Earthmother, she had rarely melded power with others. Healing in tandem was so much easier, and often more effective, for ordinary wounds. To bring together so much ... it seemed impossible.

After that first burst, she felt the bond falter, then shatter. The world blurred before her eyes, and she swayed on her hooves. Reflexively, she turned her energy inward, conjured a globe of healing water above her head, and let it drop.

The splash of frigid water woke her up as much as the healing, and she realized just what had been wrong the entire time. Expending all her energy healing others, she had failed to heal herself. Hitting the ground so quickly after death, she had ruptured a vessel in her brain, bleeding slowly into her skull and wreaking havoc on everything in its path. It wasn't like having a stroke, it was actually a stroke. A slow, crippling stroke.

As her magic began to repair the damage, she realized just how perilous her condition had been. How numb she had become, how hard it had been to control her body, how everything had seemed so very far way; she had been so focused on her loss of control of her healing that she had ignored the growing loss of control of her body.

The spell worked its way through the damage, repairing the blood vessels, shunting away blood, regrowing neurons and healing damaged tissue. And wonder of wonders, she began to feel again. She began to hear. The Earthmother had never left her, she had simply been too damaged to feel Her presence.

It had only taken a moment, but it felt like forever. She basked in Her Mother's presence, rejoicing in the reestablishment of that lifelong connection. She looked herself over in detail, clearing blockages, healing bruises, and mending bones she hadn't had time to notice were broken. She was back.

Pulling herself upright, she broke the ice that had formed over her with a blast of fire, and reached out to her Tribemates for energy again. She pulled it together, melding and mending and amplifying, the magic working together instead of competing for dominance. And then she let it go. She poured energy back at everyone present, hopping from person to person, even the fallen figures on the ground. And as it moved, it brought each person into the web, pulling their energy together to form a single entity, the Tribe was truly one.

Then she did something she had never done before, and probably would never be able to do again. She expanded the energy outward, searching for anyone and everyone linked to the Tribe, using the strength of their bonds to seek them out and lead them back to health, drawing their energy into the web and pouring it back into them in an unending cycle of healing. Some were too far gone to save. Some simply didn't want to come back. Some were under control of something they couldn't break. But they were all reached, all offered a hand and a guiding light to bring them back if and when they desired.

It dissipated at the edges, as Tribemates and allies became further and further apart, finally breaking as it reached the last person in the area. The feedback was enormous. Watching the links break one by one, Coranda saw some of her friends ... some of her family fall to the ground, depleted. Not dead, but knocked comatose by the sudden loss of energy. If they all fell, there would be nothing to save them from the still-relentless enemy. So she did what was necessary and brought herself to the forefront of the loss, breaking the web and channeling the energy back to everyone she had pulled it from as quickly as she could before it got to her, and then bearing the full brunt of the recoil herself.

It was like a cyclone. Like a hurricane. Like being punched in the gut by Umu and falling onto Zlinka's daggers. The world spun, the ground rose up to meet her, and sweet darkness claimed her. But she was not alone. Her Mother was with her, and she could finally rest. Her duty was done, and she could recover anew when she was able.

----

Some distance away, riding blindly (but heroically) toward Thunder Bluff to get Amato, Toranda felt something snap. The faint presence she had felt was gone, and she was left with emptiness and a vague sense of longing. With nothing pulling her any more, she sighed, turned her Kodo around, and went back to her tasks.

----

Ephebe recited words, trying to find the ones that would make the people go away. By the time she reached the treeline, the people were clumped together, and things were not so noisy any more. Maybe talking to these people would be easy, and they could take the scarybadevil things away with them.

Then there was light. Bright light that hurt the eyes and made her feel funny. The yankzapkillthing she hunted with recoiled and tried to make itself a ball inside her to get away from it. The people were doing something, and they all glowed with shiny light and it was coming toward her. It was time to run. The ghoul she summoned could take the light maybe, and let her get away. The mountains were big, and she could always find another place, away from people and monsters and noises and painful light. So she fled.

Zlinka Wrote:Then her gaze turned, searchingly, to Dergash. "You, warlock, you who know the ways of stolen souls... can you help?"

The Orc walked over to the undead girl as she knelt there, blue light shining from her eyes. He reached out an ashen hand and grabbed her by her forehead. All around them the combined magic of the Tribe swirled, cleansing and healing as it bounced from person to person. His glowing red eyes locked on her bright blue ones and then a flash of green light.

Dergash came slamming into the mindscape of Dispaya, they stood in an empty void, the young woman on her knees image shifting between the soulform of the Mage the Ironsong Tribe knew, and a horrifying Scourge being of white known as the White Lady. Before her stood the Lich King, his blade Frostmourne held out before him, necrotic energies pouring forth into the kneeling Mage.

"You are too late orc." came the booming voice of the Lich King, "she is mine once again." The Orc walked forward and stood in front of the Mage, shielding her from the evil of the Lich King.

"She is not yours anymore, leave this place."

"She is the White Lady, and I will have her!"

"No, she is ours now. You do not have power here anymore. The love of her Tribe will not let you take her again."

"Fool!" The Lich King screamed and lunged at the orc, the great blade whistling as it arched through the air. The blade never found its mark, an explosion of green black Fel energy knocked the Lich King through the air to land several feet away.

"You are done here Arthas, it is time for you to go." Swirls of brightly coloured light seemed to stream in from all directions, they poured into the orc, strengthening him, combining with his own considerable power.

The Lich King stood, then charged at the orc, blade held high. As he closed the distance, the Orc stepped to the side of the still kneeling woman. Reaching down he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Dispaya, it's time." The combined energies of the Tribe infused her soulform buring away whatever traces of Scourge taint that was left. She stood, stretched out her hands, and a beam of pure white light blasted forth. The form of the Lich King was stopped where he stood, the power of the beam halting him. Then slowly he started to burn, the smoldering turned into an inferno as the white light continued to bombard him. All was burned away until only a skeleton remained caught in the blinding whiteness of the beam. Then it exploded in such brightness that the Orc could no longer see.

The pair were now in a forest, standing in a small grassy clearing beside a crystal blue lake a large castle could be seen close by. The young woman standing with the Orc was not of the undead, but appeared to be human, and quite beautiful.

"It is good to see your soul is free now Dispaya."

The young woman smiled but said nothing, turning to look longingly at the castle towers.

"You're free but you can't go home, too much to be done here I am afraid." said the Orc.

The image shattered like glass, and they now stood before the gates of the Lich King's fortress, the wind and snow howled around them. The young woman was gone, having been replaced by the undead Mage known as Dispaya.

"Yes my friend, he has tried to take my soul for the last time, we shall end him once and for all."


It was some time later that the Orc would wake up in his own bed in Dalaran.

((Cloud...I just had to say bravo and thank you for this. Excellent writing - D))

(( Sorry to come in so late as well! ))

She was floating. It was kinda nice, like in a dream. Skrap grinned a bit, but as her mind began to return, so did the memories of the ship. She had been playing pirates with Anca. That had been fun. Something about the little orc seemed to make even the nightmares of Northrend pass from the mind. But then there had been... what? Gargoyles. Explosions. Skrap remembered climbing the riggings, trying to fight off the gargoyles as they toar at the ballon, trying to find a way to patch it up even while she fought... and then the ship had rocked and she had... fallen.

Oh no.

Her eyes flew open. At first everything was white, but she could tell that she was floating. No, wait.. dangling. As much as she stretched her feet out, there was nothing below her. She felt along with her right hand, finding the strap of her parachute cloak that held her suspended. And she couldn't get to her knife. But first... she reached up, knocking the snow and ice from her goggles so she could see.

"Oh..." the next word out of her mouth was an ancient goblin expression. The kind she tried to make sure Anca didn't hear. It was most often the final words of an engineer who suddenly realized just how explosively volatile their newest project actually was. Now, it echoed over the valleys of Northrend.

The half-goblin was a long ways up. Far down below she thought she saw snowbanks, but it was hard to tell. Only a few feet behind her was the sheer cliff wall, and up above the one outcropping her 'chute had managed to wrap around.

Skrap kicked and flailed or a bti, but it seemed useless. Her left arm was wrapped up tight, but at least it didn't seem broken.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I can send up a flare, someone will see it and... probably be scourge. Well kerfuffle."

There was a roar. Far down below, but a roar nonethe less. And it was answered. Skrap tried to follow the sound, and hit the zoom on her goggles, the mechanical lenses whirring as they poked out farther. There was the wreckage. And people. And battle.

"Dammit! Right..." she looked down, seeing the battle, her heart racing, certain her friends, her tribe, the people who had accepted her despite what she was. And they were in trouble. She looked back up at the outcropping, scowling.

"This is really going to hurt."

She stuck up her one free hand, took as best aim as she could, then whacked the side of her leather gauntlet on her goggles with a yelp of pain. But the trick worked, and she stuck her hand up again at the target as the button activated. With a whir the engineered pad poked out of the thick gauntlet, lighting up in a bright flash as the rocket shot out, zig-zagging the ten feet up to strike the outcropping explosively.

"Oh..." For the second time the ancient goblin curse echoed out across Northrend, this time rising in pitch as the half-goblin sneak plummeted in a less then stealthy manner.

Karna fell to the ground on his knee exausted. He had never done anything like that before..but was glad it worked and that Oryx was there. If Coranda had just been relying on him...he didnt even want to think about the state he could have been in at the end.

Karnma turned to the side to see Lucinther laying in a heap next to a recovering Anca. "Heh, next time yu gwotta look around. Mi know Anca be importnat to ya, but if yu had looked before ya leap'd den we wouldant have anotda body ta heal, aan one more ta help defend fram future attack."

His skin begining to turn back to its usuall hue, Karnma walked over to his discarded shirt and pack, pulled out a Runic Healing potion and handed it to the dazed and burnt Lucinther.

He felt something. He didn't want to wake up. The something was persistant. He opened one eye and saw Karnma standing over him. Reacting on instinct he went for his dagger. He saw red... not the kind of red you see when angry, but red... in a bottle. It came back to him suddenly and he was, once again, aware of his surroundings. He reached up and grabbed the potion. "Thanks."
He downed the potion like a professional drinker in a tavern. Almost instantly he could feel the potion beginning to work. Its magic coursed through his veins healing his wounds one by one and all at the same time. The rush of healing power felt great. He stood and brushed the snow off of his armor.
"Is she okay?" He asked as he looked down at Anca. He could see that her color was starting to return and she seemed much more stable now. Still, he worried.
He looked around at the battles being fought. It wasn't a fair fight at all. Half of the tribe was down and struggling to recover. There were far to few with healing abilities to tend to all the wounded and there were even less shields to protect everyone. It wasn't a fair fight. The scourge should have brought a bigger force.
The rogue drew his daggers and ran off towards the battle, vanishing into thin air as he went. It was time to take the offensive.

(( i am so dissappointed with my writing lately... its not what it used to be... I think the army has made me more stupid...))