Flinthammer Hall

“Frostmaw wouldn’t let you near our stowaway, would he?” Voca asked. “Beli said you tried to toss him overboard earlier.”

“The damned fool bear seems to think he’s the wee bugger’s pop. Ye’ve never been woken up in the middle of the night when a damned clammy murloc climbs into bed with ye because he had a nightmare. And now, I’ve got two of them to deal with.”

Voca snickered and Widge continued knitting what looked like a very small rug.

“You know,” Widge said quietly, treading carefully, “I always wondered why you never went to Northrend to find your brothers. I mean, you always seem to have some plan, and I know there was something about the king …”

Read the rest of this entry »

“Bael gets fussy around mid-morning, so have some milk ready then, and try and put him down for a nap,” Beli said, licking her thumb and neatening her son’s eyebrows.

“I’ve raised three children, Beli,” her mother Dorae said, shouldering the backpack full of Bael’s things. “Stop yer worryin’.”

“Stormwind’s such a big city, though,” Beli said, stepping out of the way as a bouncer hustled an angry drunk out of the Deepwater Tavern.

“Life in the district’s not much diff’rent than Anvilmar. Certainly more properly dwarvish than Quel’Danas has been. Yer father is working on a big new construction project there, and there’s plenty of dwarves around, including plenty of little ones for Bael to play with. When ye’re back, he’ll be waiting for ye.”

Read the rest of this entry »

“Meow.”

“Meow.”

“Meow.”

“Beli …”

“Meow.”

“Meow.”

“Beli.”

“Meow.”

“BELI!”

“What, what?”

Read the rest of this entry »

“Our victory in Sun’s Reach is absolute!” Captain Theris Dawnhearth yelled. “The naaru bless us with their presence!”

A blue light poured from the upper level of the conquered building overlooking Sun’s Reach Harbor and the distinctive hum of a naaru could be heard between the yells and cheers of the assembled Shattered Sun Offensive soldiers.

Beli Flinthammer looked up.

“Aren’t there still demons and Dawnstrider loyalists and such-like?”

“Aye,” Ringo said, tugging on his beard. “Let’s see what this runt’s on about.”

Read the rest of this entry »

“This … is Mount Hyjal?” Ringo said, breathing in the smell of grass warmed by the sun, listening to the song of hundreds of grasshoppers.

“Yes,” Widge said, adjusting his goggles. “Hyjal Summit was warmed by the presence of the World Tree. The snows of Winterspring are far below us.”

Ringo glanced around at the newly built buildings around him. The Alliance worked fast when building forward bases during the war. Past the lumber mill he and Widge stood beside, he saw knights of Lordaeron checking their mounts’ armor and could hear the familiar sounds of dwarven riflemen preparing their weapons for battle.

“Not much time then, aye?”

“No,” Widge said, frowning. “Lady Jaina Proudmoore will call everyone to form up in a moment and then the word will come down that Rage Winterchill’s undead troops are on their way.”

“No time like the … well, whatever. Got to get to it, I reckon,” Ringo said, leading Widge around the corner.

Read the rest of this entry »