“Thank you, Marisi. Could you take the letter to your father? And don’t forget his reading glasses.”
“He says he doesn’t need them.”
“You and I both know he’s wrong. Thank you!”
Marisi Blackfire-Flinthammer grabbed the half-moon spectacles from the stone shelf where her adoptive father had been steadfastly ignoring them, folded the letter back up, and climbed up out of Flinthammer Hall.
The sun would soon be setting over Loch Modan and the frogs and crickets were loudly noting the occasion. But neither could drown out the sounds coming from the muddy lake below.
“Ach, ye’re the biggest baby aboot a bath of any child Ah’ve known!” Ringo Flinthammer’s voice echoed over the green hills.
Ringo had never been quite the same after returning from the Shadowlands. There were mornings where Beli and Marisi had known he’d had one of those dreams again, where he’d been a big blue bear, roaming the forests of the afterlife. He had pulled away from people a little bit since returning. There was no malice in it, but more than ever, he preferred the company of his bear, Frostmaw, and his dragon, Rusty.
“I still think it’s the most ridiculous thing to call a big blue dragon,” Marisi muttered, as she watched Ringo attempt to scrub the big beast’s scales in the shallows of Loch Modan.
She waved the letter over her head as carefully made her way down the damp hill.
“Is that from Bael? Read it to me.”
“I brought your reading glasses,” Marisi said, as she drew up next to him.
“Ah’m a dwarven rifleman; Ah donnae need any glasses. Ah just need ye to read it to me.”
Marisi sighed and unfolded the letter.
“Dear Mom, Dad and Marisi,
“Things are going well with the Silver Hand. Master Halvar says I have the making of a fine knight.
“We have been dispatched to Tirisfal Glades to deal with an invasion of elementals, which we were quickly able to bring under control — you would almost not have known anything had happened here at all.
“There have been no major incidents between the Forsaken and Silver Hand, even among members who are from the Alliance. I know how you feel about them, Dad, but it looks like they really have changed.
“I will write again, soon. I am told there is a possibility we will be sent on a follow-up mission to investigate the cause of the elemental outbreak. Looking forward to seeing more of the world!”
“Love always, Bael.
“P.S., thanks for the painting, Marisi. I have it hung up next to my bunk.”
Marisi folded the letter back up with a satisfied smile.
“Good to hear he’s doing well,” Ringo said, scrubbing a dripping Rusty with a long-handled brush. “Ah wondered how he’d get along with those Light-worshippin’ … Here, what’s getting into you, Rusty? Settle down.”
Marisi covered her eyes as Rusty unexpectedly beat his wings and pushed off from the ground with his massive hind legs, sending up a spray of mud.
“Khaz’goroth on a cracker!” Ringo yelled, holding on to the dragon’s tail. “Where are ye goin’, ye daft beastie?”
“Oh boy,” Marisi inhaled. “MOOOOOOOOOOM!”
Farewell to the necrolords of Maldraxxus, the military arm of the Shadowlands. This was, by far, my favorite expansion to date. I truly loved the player agency in the choice of covenant, completely bypassing the traditional path generally expected of priests and paladins. No more tiresome speeches about duty and devotion, no weird temples in outer space, and absolutely no angel wings foisted as acceptable rewards. I thrived as a butcher and a plague doctor, traversing the realms with delightful abominations and a jelly cat in tow.
Guillotine, Sabrina, and Naxx, you’ll be missed.
Baroness Draka, it was an absolute honor.
See you in the next adventure.
These were my primary transmogs for the Shadowland expansion:
Credit: Transmog images created with the Narcissus addon. (Even better, see more examples of the addon at Reddit’s transmogrification subreddit!)
]]>“FOOLISH MORTAL! YOU ARE NOW TRAPPED WITHIN TORGHAST, TOWER OF THE DAMNED! YOUR SUFFERING WILL LAST MILLIONS OF YEARS!”
“Aye, that’s very impressive. Do ye have an index of where ye keep each individual sufferer?”
“WE ASK THE QUESTIONS IN TORGHAST, AS WE TORTURE YOU ENDLESSLY! YOU WILL BEG FOR THE FINAL DEATH, WHICH YOU WILL NEVER BE GRANTED!”
“Her name is Kildris Blackfire. She died on Azeroth, after the end of the Fourth War, and your boss stuck her soul in here. We just want to get a sense of how many floors we have to …”
“YOU CANNOT GET ME TO TELL YOU ANYTHING, MORTALS! YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF THE HORRORS THAT …”
“OK, fine. He’s all yours.”
“… WHAT?”
“Hey, chuckles. Do ye know what sound a psychopomp makes?”
KA-BOOM
It was impossible to tell how long Ringo and Beli Flinthammer had been climbing Torghast. There appeared to be no day or night cycle in here. At first, they had slept in the tower, one of them keeping watch over the other, but it had proved to be unnecessary, as had eating and drinking. But this soon proved to be its own kind of torture, endlessly climbing the tower, one floor after another, finding themselves on one impossible floor after another, including floating islands of rocks, corridors of blue steel and blood-soaked arenas under burning skies.
“Ah donnae mind rescuing them again, but Ah wish they’d just escape finally, instead of going and losing their flute again and getting captured again and needing us to rescue them again.”
“I don’t think they’re really here,” Beli said. “I think it’s just an echo of them, or their soul or a ghost or something.”
“It’s still a damned nuisance,” Ringo grumbled.
And finally, after an interminable period of time in the tower, just two dwarves and a bear endlessly climbing and fighting the forces of the Jailer, there was a faint cry from a wisp in an iron cage.
“Beli? Is that you?”
Beli kicked aside the remains of a metal dog-thing and ran over to the cage.
“Kildris?”
“Yes, I think so …” the twist of white smoke sighed. “We were in Blackrock Mountain and then here …”
“We’re here to bring you home,” Beli said, reaching back and snapping at Ringo, who handed her a white crystal. The little fragment of identity that remained of Kildris Blackfire was siphoned into the crystal.
Months went by.
And then one day, a ghostly blue bear walked Beli into a private garden with massive seeds glowing softly in the gloom.
“This is hers,” the bear said to his wife. “She’ll be waking up soon.”
“Who are all these other seeds?”
“Gods,” Ringo rumbled, ambling over to drink from the waters of the Queen’s Conservatory pond. “Ah told you; Ah had to call in some favors.”
“Uh, the seed is glowing. More, I mean.”
Ringo moved back to the seed, which was shooting forth beams of light.
“Aye, it’s time.”
He swiped the seed’s outer skin with one shimmering claw, turning back into a dwarf as he did so.
Starlight poured out of the seed and the seed’s husk quickly weathered away.
“This feels … strange,” Kildris’ voice said, tinkling like a waterfall. “What comes now?“
Beli, finding herself unable to hug a mass of starlight, stepped back, wiping away a tear.
“We take you to Maladraxxus. It’s not the same body as you used to have, but it’s a body. You’ll be alive and we can take you back to Azeroth and Marisi.”
There was a long silence in the Queen’s Conservatory.
“I see,” Kildris said at last. “In the moments after I died, before I was snatched away to that tower, I was headed for something else. There was a huge, snow-capped volcano. Rams wandered the slopes and gryphons flew overhead. I could see homes and businesses built into the mountain’s side, and could hear drinking songs coming from a tavern. I think that’s where I was supposed to go before …“
“The Jailer,” Beli said quietly.
“… before the Jailer diverted me. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Beli, Ringo. But I am tired. I am ready to go to that mountain and maybe be with my family.“
“What about Marisi?” Beli whispered.
“Do you have anything to write with? I need to dictate a letter.”
Finally, weeks after that, the sun was setting over Loch Modan. Bael Flinthammer and Marisi Blackfire were climbing the hill to head home, having been called into dinner.
Marisi stopped and pointed at the northwestern sky.
Bael shaded his eyes — he wasn’t as comfortable staring into the orange glow of the evening sun as the Dark Iron girl was — and smiled when he saw the proto-drake silhouetted there.
“There’s people on his back,” Marisi whispered. “Three … no, two.”
“Come on,” Bael said. “I know where they have to land.”
Marisi reached out and grabbed the bigger boy’s hand, stopping him.
“Are they going to make me …”
Bael squeezed her hand.
“Not if you don’t want to. You’re family, Marisi. You’ll always have a place with us.”
And then the two turned and ran up the hill, into the last rays of sunset.
]]>The only bear in the world was asleep, sprawled out on the bluish-purple grass, leaking out gas that smelled like fish from either end.
The shimmering blue creature in the stream nearby looked like a bear, but wasn’t. Not really.
Still, he was enjoying getting into the mindset of the bear. Standing still in the stream, waiting for the fish to forget that the four limbs in the water were a living being, he listened to the sounds, breathed in its scents, and was at peace.
The Drust were gone, for now, at least, and bird song was returning to areas of the forest where it had vanished. The smell of scorched plants had abated. Things were quiet once more.
“Khaz’goroth on a cracker! Back off, ye bloody stupid birds, or I’ll … ow! What is wrong with ye?”
The dwarf woman came crashing along through the stream, accompanied by the outraged squawks of a heron, sending the fish scurrying for cover.
She stood up, dripping, trying to recover some sense of dignity. Her face broke into a delighted grin when she saw the bear.
“Frostmaw! Ah’ve been looking all over for ye!”
The bear opened one eye, farted again, and sat up, making a delighted noise, nosing the woman.
“Would ye keep it down? Ye’re scaring the fishes.”
Beli Flinthammer slowly pivoted, raising an eyebrow at the glowing blue not-a-bear in the stream.
“Ringo? Is this what ye’ve been doing all this time?”
“It takes a lot longer for the fish tae relax around ye than ye’d think. Ah’ve been here about an hour, waitin’ on them to drop their guard.”
“I MEANT TURNING YOURSELF INTO A BEAR!”
“Oh, that? Nae, that was a lot easier than ye’d expect.”
“Could ye get out of the stream and kiss yer wife?”
“Only if ye take that damned spiked cage off yer head. Khaz’goroth on a cracker, what have ye been doin’ since we got separated?”
Ringo splashed ashore, transforming back into a dwarf.
“And what have ye been doing? What is that? Are ye dressin’ up as a faerie dragon for Hallow’s End?”
“Let’s just agree that maybe we make bad fashion choices when the other is nae around.”
Beli grunted.
“So, what else did ye do while we were separated?”
“Ah know how to bring Kildris back to life, once we’ve got her soul.”
“Excellent. I know where the soul is, but I don’t think yer gonna like it …”
]]>“Jorg! Jorg! We have to get out of here!”
“What are you talking about?” drawled Jorg. “Your conduct is unbecoming of a runespeaker, Malcorn.”
“Our heads are about to becoming off our heads!”
“Really?” Jorg now closed the tome he had been considering. “Wordplay? Come now.”
“We need to grab our books and run!” Malcorn said, panting in the pestilent air. “She’s coming!”
“Who? We are ensconced within the House of the Chosen. No one would be foolish enough to attack our library.”
“A Mall Walker would! One’s coming right now — it’s the Butcher!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“A Mall Walker! She can come and go from the Mall at will!”
“The what?”
“The Mall! With the Jailer!”
“Oh, you mean the Maw. Why can no one pronounce that –“
And then Beli Flinthammer’s mace separated Runespeaker Jorg‘s head from his shoulders. Runespeaker Malcorn was dispatched a few moments later.
“OK, this is the last library in Maldraxxus,” Beli said. “See if there’s any records about recent deaths on Azeroth, Professor. We need to know where Kildris’ soul went.”
The abomination nodded and sighed quietly and headed over to one of the bookcases.
Two hours later, he put the last book back on the bookcase and shook his head.
“It’s all the same — it appears all souls for several years now have been diverted to the Maw and whatever the Jailer’s planning there.”
“Well, I guess I know where we need to go, then,” Beli sighed.
“‘We?'” the Professor asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You want me to accompany you into the Maw?”
“No, not you. Me husband.”
]]>