Matters of Rage

Today, de Alliance opened a new front in de war. But not against de Horde, but against de Cenarion Circle.

Scouts had seen a large Alliance force movin' from Theramore towards Mulgore, so I set out to investigate. I feared yet another attempt at de taurens' bossman Cairne, so I bended de Nether to reach 'im in time. And I was. Just as I arrived to one of de middle rises, I saw countless humans, dwarves and elves pourin' out of de back elevators. I had mentioned many times dat de elevator was poorly protected, but de defenses were only improved marginally. I did wat I could to slow deir advance, but someting was wrong. Dey braved de frost and dinna even try to get rid of me, even though I stood in de way. Dey were not climbin' up to de highest Rise. Dey were headin' to de bridge and Elder Rise.

I abandoned my vantage point and ran along de odder bridge, hopin' dat I was not too late. Dey were already fightin' on de odder bridge, but I could not fire witout hittin' de support ropes and keelin' both defenders and attackers. Wen I reached de Elder Rise de carnage had already started outside de druids' tent. Hamuul..

I took a few potshots at dem, but dere were too many. I could not keel all of dem, but I could slow dem down. I closed my eyes and thought of home. Winds circled around my arms. My fingertips tingled. I focused my thoughts on de storm dat almost killed me. De winds grew stronger. And stronger. I raised my arms up and opened my eyes.

De winds howled upwards, and chunks of ice began to rain down upon my enemies. Ice clanged against steel and de shards fractured and fell to de ground. De cacophony of screams, orders, spells and dark incantations was deafenin'. Maintainin' de winds was getting more difficult by each second, and de attackers still continued to fight. I canna hold dem off forever, and I dunno even if it is already too late. My arms were starting to feel numb. Den I heard heavy steps rattlin' de rope bridge behind me. Many steps. Reinforcements. As the tauren charged into defense of their archdruid, I let the winds free. Some of de humans tried to run, but outrunnin' an angry tauren is hard wen yer feet are numb from de cold.

It took just a few minutes until only tauren were left standin'. I walked to de tent and saw dat dey were treatin' de archdruid. I dunna know whether he did fall or was just injured heavily. I walked among de bodies litterin' de Elder Rise. I recognized a few. A couple of elves who had been stirrin' up trouble before, and.. Syskae. His dented armor was pressin' on 'is chest and 'is breath was as quiet as a whisper. Why was he part of dis madness? I watched as de guards unceremoniously carried de bodies away, Syskae as well. Even though one whack from a mace would have been enough to finish off de survivors, de druids dinna wanna keel any more. One of dem told me dat de bodies, livin' or dead, were bein' carried off de bluffs into de graveyard. Dose dat wanted to leave could do so, and de rest would be buried de next day.

I rested a bit among de druids, who were mendin' deir own wounds and takin' care of deir fallen. Why would elves, especially elf druids go to such lengths to keel deir supposed allies? Hamuul Runetotem, deir target, was appointed to de Cenarion Circle by dat who both elves and tauren call Shan'do. A rare exception among elves, and someone whose wisdom was direly needed. But I knew dat he would not be able to come and sort out dis mess. His work against de corruption started by de Faceless One is more important. Odders would have to do dis for him, to ensure dat dere would be a Cenarion Circle left wen he got back. I had to find de excuse behind dis madness.

Syskae should probably have regained conciousness by now. I stood up and walked out from de tent, out of sight from de taurens. I put on de ring dat Syskae had gave me and asked him de reason for dis madness. Someone had told 'im dat de Cult of de Void was involved and controllin' de Runetotem. Preposterous. If dey needed to go after a druid, dey should go after Fandral! His crimes a millennia ago were not forgotten, and dere were reports dat he had been stockpilin' poisons under de guise of research, a lie so obvious dat not even all elves believed it.

De conversation was interrupted by sounds of battle, dis time from de main bluff. I hastily ran along de bridge and towards de bossman's tent. Again, bodies littered de whole rise. Guards were chasin' de survivors, who were drank some potions and den jumped from de bluff. Noggenfogger. Some floated gently down, odders fell like rocks. De battle was too short to be a credible attempt. Dis was an attempt to disguise de attack to be against a valid military target. De Bloodhoof had made short work out of dem. Wit de immediate threat passed for now, I located an empty tent and started gatherin' my thoughts.

Wat was behind dis silly story about de Runetotem and de Cult? I knew da some of de.. lesser-minded druids had been persuaded to join dat bunch of.. unsane people, but would de Alliance seriously tink dat all tauren druids were in it? Surely dey would see plenty of sane druids at de front in Silithus or Nighthaven at Moonglade to see de truth. But den again, dose tincan tacticians had leetle reason to leave deir cities of white stone. A deception would be all too easy to arrange. But why? Who would benefit from such a ting?

A series of loud thumps interrupted my thoughts. De danger was over, why would a tauren approach deir chieftain in such a hurry? Worried looks and a few words said out loud told everytin' I needed. Regrouped. Taurajo. I was on my way to de wyvern master before de messenger had finished 'is business.

I arrived into a slaughter. De Taurajo wyverns were desperately tryin' to defend deir master, and mine decided to join de fray wit me still on it. Drat. I had to jump, and my awkward landin' attracted de attention of de attackers. I could not defeat dem on my own, so I ran towards de inn. I stepped into a pool of sometin', and I looked down to see dat my robe's hem was already drenched in blood. It was a slaughterhouse. Nothin' lived in de inn anymore. De innkeeper was half-skinned, de orcish couple was impaled to de wall wit spears, and blood seeped from de ceilin'. Dat must have been de tauren family who had rented de upper room earlier today. I tried to run up, but I felt a dagger between my ribs and searin' light at my back.

I found myself from quite an awkward position, and my left arm was bent unnaturally. Why had dey not finished me off? De sounds of battle were now further away. Dey had to be lookin' for de next massacre. I forced myself and wedged my broken arm between my legs. And den I twisted. We trolls might not die easily, but de pain sometimes makes me wish dat we did. I carefully bandaged myself and put on a different robe. Dere was still work to be done, and I canna show dem dat I'm hurt. Any sign of weakness will be exploited by dis bunch. I used my whistle to call Windclaw, but climbin' on a raptor taller dan me wit a broken arm proved to be.. difficult. I had to wait for reinforcements. I sat down to watch de smoke plumes risin' from de north. Dey had not just hit Crossroads, but also de settlements around it. One of dem was inhabited by two orc younglings. Deir parents had been called to reinforce de northern border, and dey never came back. Deir farm was on fire as well. And all I could do is watch. Actin' on flawed information is one ting, but dis.. Dis were no strategic purpose in any of dis. Dis was pure pent-up rage.

After wat seemed like forever, de reinforcements came. I took de first wyvern and dinna even bother to count de fee. I had to put a stop to dis. Lookin' from above confirmed my suspicions. De farm and de towers had been put to de flame, but de main force was still at Crossroads. Dis time my landin' was better, although a sharp pain in my arm reminded me dat I was in no shape to fight. I hurled ice against a few of de attackers, but dey simply laughed and continued deir dirty deeds in de protaction of deir gods. And again I was gettin' too much attention, so I had to retreat outside where I had some more time to react. I looked for isolated targets and did wat I could, but deir rage was not dat easily controlled. Eventually I saw an armored human barkin' orders, but he had his back turned towards me. Perfect. A loss of a leader would help dem reconsider. I released my rage and whispered ancient Zandalarian incantations. My vision was covered in a red haze. I saw only my target, and nottin' else. I pictured de biggest shard of ice I could in my mind, impalin' dis human. Winds danced around my good arm and I felt de frost weave itself into a shard in my hand. I shouted de last syllables of de incantation and threw de instrument of my vengeance at my prey.

He dinna even turn. De shard pierced his armor slightly above his waist on de right side. I heard de shard clang against his front armor from inside and shatter. I caught him mid-sentence, and he lowered his head to look at his wound, but it was not dere. He fell to his knees, and den to de ground, wit shards of ice still pointin' up from his back. With the blood haze still upon me, I ran to his body and grabbed his shoulder with my good hand and violently grabbed him to turn him around. As his back hit de ground I heard de shards embed demselves deeper into him. I spat at him, only to realize dat I recognized de face lookin' up.

It was Syskae.