The Path to Draenor

Go down

The Path to Draenor Empty The Path to Draenor

Post by Rinoi on Thu Nov 27, 2014 2:48 am

The Path to Draenor

“The risk is too great! I implore you to reconsider!”. The disheveled junior mage scrambled to keep up. His ornate, but fading robes rustled restlessly as each step kicked them in disarray. He had been tracing the steps of this impetuous woman for two journeys already, up and down the steps from the front-door all the way up to the towers arcane laboratory. Presently they arrived at the dusty hall where he, at this time of the morning, would normally be waking up with a cup of tea.  “If you could just wait a moment-“ he wheezed.

Rinoi did not break stride until she reached the middle of the hall. Others were there too, idling by the bookcases or the dusty tables. Quiet, worried students that had been working through the night to heed her request. Most of their eyes followed her as she stepped to the prepared ritual circle in the center of the room, where a collection of sacks, pots and supplies stood. Her bronzed armour’s crunched as she knelt down, depositing another bundle. This was nearly all; food, antidotes, clothes, a sleeping bag- She was not about to step into this adventure unprepared. But neither was she going to allow herself to be stopped by the nattering mage, and the worried stares around the room. She rose, and turned to the trailing wizard. “All this mumbling, all this complaining- You have finished the calculations, have you not?” she interjected brusquely. The mage’s eyes opened wide. “Yes! Of cou-“ he hastily started, before being interrupted again. “I’d hate to find my money wasted on subpar… conjurers”. She made a dismissive gesture, including everyone else in the room too whilst giving him a judgemental look. The stuttering apologies and assurances started right away and she smiled. Turning, she made her way back through the doorway, satisfied that the wizard was, for however briefly, distracted from his objections.

Metal footsteps echoed in the stone stairwell of the mage tower as she made her way down again, meek muttering mage still in tow. It was definitely not the best of academies, so the comment on the sub-parity of its inhabitants hit a nerve. Rumour had it some of the lecturers had, at one point, dabbled in forbidden magics. Unfounded rumours, probably false, but it made no matter. The archmage in charge, an elderly, never terribly accomplished fellow by the name of Penthehaze had tried to counteract the rumours. But amidst his concerned peers he had only succeeded in making a fool of himself, certainly convincing them he had nothing to do with dark powers, but also that he probably didn’t know where he was half of the time. His institution, its funding and number of applicants quickly sunk into obscurity, leaving the remnants of the faculty desperately looking for new chances and new income.

Obscure mages yearning for lost respect make for handy mercenaries in a pinch. Especially when you want magic that others might deem too irresponsible. That the scrubby wizards would complain, whining and raising objections she knew, but they would also never deny her demands. They were too desperate for that.

A portal to Draenor.

After the united armies of Azeroth managed to make a push through the Dark Portal, its magic soon faltered. It wasn’t the first time this happened, as the well known stories told. Khadgar and other brave heroes of the Alliance had done so at the end of the second war. Fighting their way through, and closing the portal behind them to safeguard their homeland. Very noble, of course, and it yielded them a set of very fine statues in Stormwind… But a rather big obstacle if you wanted to follow them.
The Dark Portal was now, once more, nothing but an empty arch, surrounded by the ruin of the iron horde’s brief but devastating rampage. Recreating a connection to Draenor was a daunting endeavour- with experimental links being attempted, but only by the most brilliant of the Alliance’s archmages. It’d take months, if it’d ever be allowed at all, to be transported to the Orc home-world. At least, when using normal, responsible methods.

The coolness of the early morning greeted them as they came out of the crumbling doorway at the foot of the tower. The dawn’s clammy fog wrapped around Rinoi’s feet as she stepped through the grass, towards her mount; a great scraggly goat. The mage halted, hesitant to pursue in the wet cold. He cleared his throat and continued. “.. As I was saying- The arcane signatures of the items are… weak at best. The calculations are complete- certainly, but- there is a sizeable… -Very- sizeable margin of error. The portal may end up- twenty feet in the sky, in a rock, amidst hundreds of dangerous enemi- Wait, what are you doing?” Rinoi smiled, as she led the big goat back into the tower, past the slack-jawed wizard. “I told you. I will not leave without Henry”. With the supplies already taken off the goat’s back, it -just- managed to fit in the passage. Filling the tiny staircase fully with the broad, and moist smelling presence of the goat. After a few moments of hapless staring, the mage cleared his throat and hastily followed the echoing hoof-steps up. Loudly continuing his long-winded explanation, and doing his best to ignore the fluffy mountain-beast being driven up before him.

My point is- if the portal, or rather, WHEN the portal opens, ehehe… You could find yourself in all manner of situations. Some, could be… well, instantly lethal. We’ve more or less triangulated the location of your friends using what items you gave us, but they could be distorted by time, space- interfered with, or well, really…  a tuft of fur, a bracelet and a letter don’t carry -that- much of an arcane footprint to work with. And that’s not even considering eh… shedding.”The mage plucked at a tuft of fur from the goat to illustrate. Quickly yanking back his hand as the beast emitted a grumbling, deep bleating sound.

They had reached the laboratory again. Grumbling, the goat pulled its ass free from the doorway, after having squeezed his head and horns through with some assistance from his master. The mage hurriedly fluttered in after it, glad to be away from the goat’s smelly backside.

“I am aware of the risks, Dean. You have made them abundantly clear. But I will still go through.” She turned, staring at him. “I will not be hampered by indecision and doubt again. I have tolerated your complaints, but don’t you DARE stand in my way” she spat. The Dean quietly took a step back, noticing the fire in her eyes. “Of course-… of course” he muttered, and hastily gestured to the apprentices in the room. They set to work, forming a half-circle around the ritual symbols in the centre of the room. Flashing each other glances as they rose their arms and, slowly, hesitantly, their voices. Their arcane words soft at first, but already echoing up into the rafters of the tower.

Rinoi gritted her teeth, and mentally kicked herself. She had been too aggressive by far- that temper again, making her wear her thoughts on her sleeve. But after months at sea, she had determined that she would not run away again. She would do what she wanted, as she wanted it, and right now… That something was in Draenor. Another world, and if the rumours were true, another time. It made no matter- she would not be stopped. She heaved the supplies she had carried back unto Henry’s rear. The mages had assured her that both her and the Pandarian beast of burden would be able to pass through.

She turned to the center of the room. The runes on the floor had started to glow, and the air was now heavy with magic. Crackling. Gusts of wind seemed to come from nowhere, carrying with them the sickly sweet smell of the arcane. She was not fond of portals… but this process was something else. Unlike any she had seen before. Volatile. Savage, even. Lightning crackled around the room, lifting up loose pages and blowing out candles. She saw the objects she had delivered to grant her passage. Items belonging to people, friends and companions that had passed through the portal. A letter from the Draenei anchorite Shapur. The brace crafted by Arenfel when they had first met in Gilneas. A discarded chopstick from the Madam of the Braves, Yuan’do. A single tuft of fur… Tarlin.

All of them were simple objects- but the mages had assured her that they carried an arcane signature that would lead the portal straight to them. She saw the objects rise up from the floor, up from the ornate runes chalked down there. The room was filled with sound, crackling, rumbling, trembling. And then suddenly, a tear ripped up in the middle. Bright light pouring in from it, and the gusts of wind intensified. She looked aside, seeing the Dean of the academy staring at the portal in fear. He was shouting something- but the sound was lost in the din of magical tumult. Pushing a purse against the Dean’s chest- the promised payment, she turned to face her destination.

Heavy steps led her towards the portal. The tear in time and space seemed to want to push her away. She saw the students around her sway, starting to falter. The dean- still screaming desperately, his words lost. Their faces were all white as stone. It was now or never.

She stepped through.

The Path to Draenor KGNXbQm

Posts : 130
Join date : 2014-02-14

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum