“Let’s get to fightin’.”
Ringo and Beli Flinthammer stood before Corp’rethar, the Horror Gate, the final barrier between Alliance and Horde troops and Icecrown Citadel. Strange blue flames, which hurt the eyes when looked upon, formed an additional barrier before the black steel wall. And before the flames were the armies of the Scourge. The Flinthammers were there as part of an effort by Alliance forces based on the Skybreaker to help weaken the Scourge’s defenses.
“Not yet,” came the response, sounding like metal scraping across metal, laced with the accent of a former nobleman of Lordaeron. “Formal introductions first — protocol.”
“Khaz’goroth on a cracker,” Ringo growled, lowering his rifle slightly. Frostmaw behind him relaxed, the bear taking his cue from his master’s body language. “Get on with it.”
“I am Lord Corin Lightstalker, Lord Protector of Corin’s Crossing …”
“‘Lightstalker?'” Beli snickered. The Scourge deathknight ignored her and continued.
“Right Hand of Kel’Thuzad, Terror of the Plaguelands, Knight of the Host of Suffering …”
“Ye going to be done any time soon?” Ringo sighed in exasperation.
“Doom of the Living,” Lord Lightstalker said. “That’s it. Now then …”
Ringo held up a hand.
“Formal introductions first,” he said, clearing his throat. “I am Ringo Flinthammer, son of Magnus Flinthammer, Knight-Captain of the Alliance, Champion of the Frozen Wastes.”
“Very well,” Lightstalker said, raising his runeblade. “I will make sure your kin know who slew …”
“Champion of the Naaru,” Ringo continued loudly. “Hand of A’dal. Ambassador. Chef. Elder. Ringo the Explorer. Guardian of Cenarius. Ringo the Diplomat.”
Beli swallowed a laugh at that last one.
“You’re just showing off now, aren’t you?” Lightstalker said, sitting down, resting his head in one hand.
“Ringo the Hallowed. Loremaster. Ringo the Merrymaker. Ringo the Seeker. Jenkins.”
“What kind of title is ‘Jenkins?‘” Lightstalker looked up in confusion, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
Ringo pulled the trigger.
Lord Corin Lightstalker, Lord Protector of Corin’s Crossing, Right Hand of Kel’Thuzad, Terror of the Plaguelands, Knight of the Host of Suffering, Doom of the Living, stayed sitting upright, even bereft of a head, for several seconds before his body collapsed onto the hard surface of Icecrown Glacier.
Ringo blew the smoke from the gun’s barrel.