I am Hamuul, King Varian Wrynn…you must beware…the Nightmare now strikes against us in Azeroth in a manner that should not be possible…
What do you mean? the lord of Stormwind demanded. Two more of his army dropped. The others were beginning to take notice of the mysterious, debilitating threat in their very midst.
The sleepwalkers are attacking the slumbering bodies of those who make up your host…and somehow are causing your fighters’ dreamforms to perish at the same time as their physical shells…again, it should not happen so! The dreamforms should remain “alive”…
The king bitterly recalled the nightmarish figures assaulting his men prior to Malfurion Stormrage’s summons. He had feared that they would turn upon the still, helpless bodies of the defenders and no w that nightmare had come to pass, with results even more terrible than he had imagined.
What do you suggest?
We must continue to fight… replied Hamuul. We must continue to fight…
Where is Broll? Varian asked…but the tauren did not say.
Another orc warrior collapsed and vanished. Varian let out a growl of exasperation and did as Hamuul bade. He had no choice.
None of them had a choice.
Where is Broll? he continued to wonder as he desperately slashed again at his son and wife. And where is Malfurion Stormrage?
They stepped out into what was clearly not any land near Teldrassil and Darnassus. A corrupted Remulos had used his new master’s power to drag himself and Malfurion far through the Dream/Nightmare.
Tyrande peered around, stunned. “Mal, where are we? Where is this desolation?”
The archdruid did not immediately answer, instead seeing to the unconscious Remulos first. When it was clear that the forest guardian was still out, Malfurion shifted to his true form, then surveyed what he could of their surroundings. The mists of the Nightmare were strong here, but there was something vaguely familiar about where they had stepped out. He was not surprised to find them near this place, considering that it coincided with the area Remulos had brought him, and had actually wanted to reach it…but like Tyrande, the desolation struck him hard.
“Close to where we must be, unfortunately,” the archdruid cryptically replied. Indeed, now was the moment he had been waiting for, but not all those he needed — whether they wished to be a part of his plan or not — were where they had to be.
He looked again to Remulos. The catatonic presence of Cenarius’s son was something for which he had not planned.
“Tyrande, can you see that he is protected? We may have to leave him here for a time…”
Malfurion did not add that the last was based on the assumption that they survived what was to come. If not…it would not matter where Remulos lay.
The high priestess bowed her head and prayed. A moment later, Elune’s soft light came down, piercing the mists. It settled on Remulos, draping him like a protective blanket. The forest guardian was completely covered.
“This will do him as good as anything,” she solemnly promised.
At that moment, a voice he had been anxiously waiting to hear from briefly touched his thoughts. I have a pair of roving fools for you…
They are not fools…any more than you, Eranikus…
The green dragon’s tone radiated his disagreement with Malfurion. I was a fool long before you contacted me in secret while the cartographer rode upon my back! I was a fool to agree to any plan…and yet, I could not refuse…if only on the slim chance it could help rescue her…
The archdruid had to push beyond Eranikus’s selfrecriminations and fast. Each moment meant that Xavius might divine his plan. You have both Lucan and Thura with you…see now where I need them to go…
After a moment Eranikus responded with a mocking grunt, Ah, the irony! They were very near where you desired…indeed, the human still babbles about the “thing” in some fissure —
No more! Malfurion warned. I will speak with them…
The archdruid reached out to the pair simultaneously. They were both startled, though Thura only momentarily. There was much bitterness in her mind at how he had used her. Though he had not had any choice, Malfurion radiated his sorrow for not only doing that, but being forced to demand more of them now. He quickly explained what he desired, incorporating factors both good and ill that his original plan had not contained.
They accepted his words in part for the same reason that Eranikus had…because to not accept was to welcome the Nightmare’s victory. Still, there was courage behind that acceptance and Malfurion was grateful for it.
Only the green dragon was any question to the archdruid. Yet Eranikus promised to do his part…so long as the night elf proved himself able to do his own.
That left only Broll. It had taken mere seconds for all to pass between Malfurion and the others. Now he reached out to Broll, pulling him from the battle and leaving Hamuul in his place as guide between the Alliance and Horde elements that made up those led by King Varian and Azeroth’s druidic defenders.
I hear you, my shan’do… Broll replied.
You are beyond being my student anymore, Malfurion reprimanded. No student could I dare ask what I must ask you now!
I’ll do whatever you say.
Another who believed so much in Malfurion that it made the archdruid sad. Many had already died because of what needed to be done and many more likely would.
He explained what he needed and received immediate assurance from Broll. Hamuul could be trusted to keep matters coordinated with King Varian and the others. The tauren would make certain that the efforts by the defenders would not flag.
They dared not…not even though it was very likely that, by themselves, all those whom Malfurion had gathered would prove insufficient to stop the evil tide.
And so, with the others hopefully soon where he needed them, Malfurion at last knew that he had to tell Tyrande where they were.
“This region looks much different now, but you must recall it.”
The high priestess had been studying their surroundings during his brief contact with the others. Her expression had grown more and more troubled.
“I cannot shake a feeling…” Tyrande looked into his eyes, her own growing as wide as saucers. “Malfurion, this is not where — but Suramar was taken—”
“Yes,” he murmured. “We are in Azshara…at the edge of what was once Zin-Azshari.”
The high priestess shuddered, then her resolve steeled. “Where do we go?”
The archdruid pointed to her right. There, some jagged hills could just be made out in the mist. The smell of the sea — the Coral Sea, they both knew — permeated the air and in the distance they could hear the crash of waves against the great cliffs overlooking the dark expanse of waters. Waters where far in the past the legendary night elf capital and the Well of Eternity had existed.
Tyrande nodded, then frowned. “He should have been pulled into the sea with the rest of it, Malfurion…”
The archdruid’s gaze narrowed in thought. “Yes…he should have been.”
Expression grimly set, she started toward the hills. However, Malfurion seized her arm. “No, Tyrande…this must be done differently.”
He threw aside the spear. Then, from his belt, the night elf removed what little bit remained of the branch that he had broken off. Malfurion had placed it there just before following Remulos.
To her surprise, he then sat down.
“Mal! Have you gone mad?”