[quote] Exodar Down ((Story))
Maybe it was the way the grass tickles the skin between her hooves. Or maybe it was the sound of wind blowing over the hillside. For whatever the reason, Niashado loved visiting the grasslands. Waiting patiently outside a village, she watched as the orc children played and the adults tended to their duties. A group of hunters walked past her, giving the Draenei a nod. She smiled warmly.
In her bags contained several ornate pottery bowls for trade. Ner'zhul, the local shaman of this clan had inquired about a certain design the last time she traded and she promised to make them. The bowls were highly polished and jeweled, created in only the way a skilled mage could fashion. A few minutes later the elder shaman and his acolyte showed up.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” the shaman said. “Welcome.”
“Blessings of the Naaru be with you and yours, Ner’zhul,” Niashado replied, bowing. “The artisan assures me they meet your specifications. The jewels inlaid in the pottery resin should provide the results you wish.”
“I would never question the quality of your goods, Niashado,” the shaman replied after looking at the bowls. At a gesture, his acolyte, who made a gruff sound, scooped the pottery into his hands. He gave the Draenei a dark stare before heading back to the shaman’s hut.
“I’m sure these potions will help your master understand the power nature can provide itself,” the elder shaman said.
“There is much we can still learn from each other, Ner’zhul. I will see you next month?”
“I look forward to it. May the elements bless your way, priestess,” he replied, turning back to the village.⑴
The wind picked up as she walked away. Birds flew under the cloudless red sky, as she returned to her own town. The potions would be…
…
“They are breaking through!”
“We can’t hold them all back forever!”
These and other screams broke Niashado from her memories. It had been so many years ago. To think the same orcs she used to trade with suddenly started exterminating her kind still came as a shock to her. The same orcs that later destroyed their world and fled to another world, probably to destroy them too.
Around her, alarms blared and blue lights flashed, signaling yet another attempt by the accursed elves to take their home. Niashado touched the shoulder of a tired mage, motioning that she would take his place so he could rest. Peering around the edge of the wall, she noticed three more of the elf warlocks approaching. At a nod from three fellow mages they burst out and repelled the elves with a barrage of arcane bolts. More were coming, though. Despite the warriors behind them, they would not be able to hold the keep for much longer.
It was frightening how well the elves knew how to bypass the defenses. Niashado pushed the thought out of her mind as she prepared for another strike.
* * *
Veres stood in shock at what he was told by the council member.
“You’re saying that we should abandon Tempest Keep? And go where?”
“The council has decided we should leave what is left of Draenor. The elves control too much of Tempest for us to take it all with us. We will evacuate everyone to the Exodar satellite.”
“And go where?” he paladin practically yelled. “We’ve been to so many places, but the Legion keeps finding us.”
“The Prophet believes our hope lies in a world called Azeroth,” Council Member Namond said.
“That’s the place where those infernal elves and naga came from. The place where Illidian, the pawn of Sargeras himself, comes from. You want us to go there?”
“They have beaten back the Burning Legion twice now. We need allies to fight for the Army of Light. This world has proven itself to fight well against the Legion,” Namond replied.
“And the orcs. Did Velen happen to see that the bulk of the orcs fled into Azeroth. I don’t look forward to getting hunted by their kind again.”
“Ready the ship, Veres. Start finding a termination point in Azeroth. Velen and O'ros believe they will be useful for our cause,” the council mage said. “I will gather the other mages and prepare them in the nexus chamber. We need that termination point.”
The paladin simply nodded and left to his work.
* * *
Namond walked into the Nexus Chamber. It had been centuries since he had stepped foot in here. The last time, it was to arrive in a world they had come to call Draenor. So close to a true home, but he and the other hadn’t counted on the driving hatred of their cousins. Nevertheless, Namond never thought twice about his decision to go into exile with Velen and the rest. And the power of the Naaru had gifted the other exiles, the Draenei, as they came to call themselves.
The Nexus Chamber was a round room with a large table in the center. At six points around the table was a position where the mages stood. Two silvery spheres were at each standing point. This was how the mages would channel their energy into Exodar. The crystalline engine would feed the magic precisely into a warp distorter and throughout the hull of ship, allowing it to traverse the Twisting Nether. Four mages arrived, taking position around the table, but looking uneasily at one and another.
“Where is Kanji?” Namond asked.
“She fell trying to hold off the elves from approaching.” Caren answered quietly. “We need six to warp, Namond.”
“I will find another. Prepare yourselves.”
* * *
The lone figure crept out of the ventilation shaft and down the corridor. His long ears allowed him to hear the loud footsteps the hoofed Draenei created as they walked down the corridors. His glowing green eyes took in the many strangle facets of the Draenei architecture.
Sol’trel had broken from the rest of his unit. He was hungry, and he needed to feed. But it wasn’t food he was looking for. He needed to satisfy his craving for magic, especially after all he had expended in battle. He could feel it radiating around this city, but couldn’t pinpoint where exactly it came from.
His hands shook from the withdrawal, and he knew he should fight it, lest he becomes one of the cursed Wretched.
But the craving was too much.
Crouching back into a darkened alcove, the blood elf waited until the unsuspecting Draenei was near, before springing his attack. Sweeping his foot out, he knocked the hooves from under the creature and placed his hands on both sides of his head. The Draenei muffled scream could be heard as Sol’trel siphoned its magic. But within a few seconds the magic stopped.
“That’s all? That all the magic you have?” he furiously asked the frightened weakened blue creature. Probably an apprentice of some sort? The blood elf didn’t care and in frustration ran his victim through. His sword came out with blue oily blood staining the blade.
After hiding the body, Sol’tras continued searching for more. The craving was growing once again.
* * *
Outside, the netherstorm continued building up as the blood elves began manipulating the immensely powerful fortress’s energies. Red and purple lighting danced around the crystals of the central keep, occasionally arcing to its floating satellite structures, one of them being The Exodar.
Fortunately for the refugees aboard that satellite, they were spared for the moment as the blood elves concentrated on circumventing the defenses around the satellite The Mechanar.
For the surviving Draenei, the greatest mystery of this day was how could the off-worlders have known how to defeat such advanced defenses? How did they manage to capture M'uru, the naaru technician on The Mechanar satellite?
((This is my first short story. Please have mercy, but suggestions and comments are welcome. I just wanted to write how I believed the crash of Exodar would have occurred. I don’t have a copy of BC yet, so if I’m off on any details, well…))
((The story is in two parts and most of the second part is already outlined. I hope to have it posted Tuesday or Wednsday.))
|