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Nonsense continues

09 Jul

TarakanSo I almost died. Or actually died and then came back, depending on your point of view. It was an odd sensation. When that undead plunged the sword through me, I was overcame with great pain but only for a brief moment. Very quickly everything went dark and the next thing I remember was a sudden influx of warmth, the kind I haven’t felt since we entered Northrend. All the wounds were mended and I was able to get back on my feet. That Argent Crusade leader guy was standing around and making some lecture but I wasn’t paying attention. Just nested in a corner and looked around. Verroak was scared like a little hatchling. I’m not surprised. But I haven’t seen him like that since he left his second wife.

The Argent Crusaders led us back to their stone camp and gave us all the food and beds we needed. Beds. I can’t understand how the mammals sleep in those. Don’t their backs hurt as damnation laying down straight like that? I curled up all the bedding around and nested in the place, sipping some of that tea they made. I’m not sure if it was tea or some other concoction. I knew it wasn’t poison or my wasp would notice it. It’s no hook wasp but it’s almost as good a companion. But of course, Verroak wouldn’t let me rest. He grabbed me and pulled me out, telling me we’re cancelling everything and going back to our timeline. He really cares, after all.

He used that machine he got from the dragon and we entered back into the acid trip realm. The proper name is “time corridors” or “timeways” or something like that, but to me it looks like that time I took acid as a fledgling. The dragon appeared immediately and Verroak started negotiating with it and demanding to be returned. Then they argued back and forth and I dozed off, sitting with my back to some… mushroom or rock that was growing right there. Verroak didn’t know or didn’t care, but that dragon, Kairoz was his name I think, not good with names, he was planning something. Not everything he was saying was sincere. I wouldn’t be surprised if Verroak really didn’t know, he never really learned the whole “face” thing. In all my years, I learned to read the faces mammals make and although Kairoz wasn’t a mammal, he was using the face of one.

Shortly thereafter, we were back in Northrend, the dragon following after us. I wanted to just nest back into the bed they gave me, but Verroak insisted I be with him all the time. So I did what I always do to calm him down, I followed. We went to the Argent Crusade leader’s hut and the three of them – Verroak, Kairoz and him – went into a long discussion, explaining something about all the diverging timelines and the other stuff I stopped paying attention to long ago. In the end, the Argent Crusade guy decided he trusts us and will give us a guide that will lead us where the Frostmourne is really buried – deep within Azjol-Nerub.

We now have an even bigger group, including the Argent Crusade guide, a draenei named Xarthat (Verroak typed that, too many x’s and th’s) and some other random people that were around. Some ogre shaman who was just adventuring in the vicinity, a tauren warrior named Tagar, and even a kenku from the Draenor we know. Kairoz pulled that last one. Apparently the kenku is a member of the “Timewalkers” (which I’m not sure what it is). There’s ten of us now, and we’re going into Azjol-Nerub via the entrance Arthas once used. The Argent Crusade man again assures us the kingdom is almost completely dead and safe to delve into but with the land of these… spiders I would never be so sure.

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