Resurgence of the Light ch 20

As Korialstrasz made his way through the lower floors of the temple, his keen gaze assessed each individual attending to their respective tasks. With every silent glance, he mulled over potential candidates for the important role bestowed upon him by their Queen.

It was clear they needed individuals adept at interacting with mortal races—ones with an even temperament. Another crucial factor was their experience in battle, an unavoidable aspect of the task ahead.

Yet another consideration arose in his mind: the likelihood of injuries in combat. Hence, a few healers among their group wouldn't go amiss. Now came the query of the group's size. It couldn't be too substantial, lest it unsettled those they sought to aid. Chromie's actions might have made the mortals wary of Dragonkind.

It seemed prudent to remain in their Visages, minimizing the impact of their presence. Ultimately, Korialstrasz sought capable combatants and healers who could adeptly utilize their Visages. Names and faces flickered in his thoughts, some discarded while others were marked for a conversation.

Having made his choices, he set forth toward the nearest candidate, his mind now shifting to the chain of events leading to their current situation.

Unknown to their visitors, their arrival had been anticipated—not merely observed as they journeyed through the snow. On the day Chromie rashly attempted to mend the timeline and consequently faced capture, Soridormi had arrived at the Wyrmrest Temple.

She elucidated the situation, beseeching Alexstrasza for aid, both in rectifying the timeline and securing Chromie's release. However, upon learning of this figure's actions since revealing themselves, Alexstrasza grew pensive and declined to assist. Furthermore, she forbade the Bronze from hindering this enigmatic individual.

For some inexplicable reason, Alexstrasza was certain that this individual would desire to speak with her, their meeting likely to dictate her decision.

Scouts had been dispatched to observe the newcomers and their actions upon reaching the shores. Their skirmish during the attempt to establish a foothold and the simultaneous dispatch of a Light-infused undead party to assault Azjol-Nerub, that had turned to be quite successful.

Korialstrasz couldn't help but feel impressed. Their strength, resilience, and unyielding dedication to vanquishing the Scourge were beyond question.

In the moments leading up to the lone figure's arrival at the Wyrmrest Temple, accompanied by the Light-infused undead bearing Chromie, Krasus observed the approach with a mix of confusion and intrigue. The apparent lack of fear and urgency in the person's demeanor puzzled him. Even a dragon would exercise caution traversing an area potentially rife with enemies. Witnessing such utter disregard for danger was both confounding and remarkable.

However, now that Krasus had met this individual and, more crucially, felt the raw power exuding from them, understanding began to dawn. A wolf doesn't quake before the sheep that surround it; it's the sheep that ought to tremble.

Krasus, like any sentient being, had experienced fear, yet confronting the overwhelming power that this individual wielded, he realized something profound—he had forgotten what true fear was. Despite his best efforts to resist, to stand against the surge of power that forced him to the ground, he found himself utterly overwhelmed.

He couldn't fathom the intense pressure Chromie must have endured, bearing the full brunt of this formidable power.

Reflecting on the stranger's words and actions, Krasus couldn't deny their validity. Many times, he had questioned the decisions made by the Bronze, raising concerns about various events, including the capture and exploitation of their Queen by the orcs. No, he harbored no anger—none at all!

Seeking to regain his composure, Krasus closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself.

~~~~

Krasus led a group of twenty, including himself, approaching the enigmatic duo of the Light’s Chosen and his companion. As he studied them during their approach, he noted Velonara’s attempts to mirror the Light’s Chosen. Her interest in the surroundings and some evident nervousness amidst the presence of dragons were traits Krasus easily comprehended. The proximity of powerful beings alone could set anyone on edge, even without a hint of aggression.

To a casual onlooker, both Velonara and the Light’s Chosen would appear as still as statues, seemingly unaffected by their environment.

However, while Velonara displayed some signs of life, the Light’s Chosen was an entirely different case. If not for witnessing the man move at all, Krasus might have been convinced he was a statue, unmoved and undisturbed by the world around him. He remained utterly still, an eerie stillness that unsettled Krasus. Living creatures, especially powerful ones, were not meant to be so motionless. Even the mightiest predators exhibited some subtle movement, especially when stalking prey. Yet the Light’s Chosen displayed none. The only beings Krasus had seen so motionless were the Keepers, made of stone and bound by their duties.

As they drew closer, the man finally stirred, his head turning slightly, a movement that seemed almost as though stone grinded against stone. Silence blanketed the space as their group halted before the two figures, awaiting a response.

Seemingly content with the minimal gesture of acknowledgment, Krasus stepped forward to propose their plan. “We are prepared to depart. To save time, we will fly as close as possible to your base before landing and proceeding on foot,” he suggested, outlining the strategy.

“Very well,” the Light’s Chosen replied before striding toward the tower's edge, prompting a momentary confusion in Krasus. He hadn’t yet designated the flight arrangements.

However, astonishment swept over Krasus as radiant wings sprouted from the man’s back. He arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Come, Velonara,” commanded the Light’s Chosen, jolting Velonara out of her stupor. She rushed to his side, a mix of confusion and surprise playing across her face.

As the Light’s Chosen laid his hand on her shoulder, wings emerged from Velonara’s back. It took her a moment to adjust to this newfound appendage before taking flight, mirroring the Light’s Chosen’s actions.

Left to observe the surreal spectacle, Krasus turned to his group. “Let’s go,” he stated simply, no further words necessary for the task at hand.

~~~~

Uther's mind buzzed with a blend of confusion and apprehension as he trailed alongside Sylvanas, traversing a path that seemed to lead to the unknown. The veiled nature of their destination only heightened his unease, especially since Sylvanas offered no more than cryptic assurances that "all will be revealed."

As they left behind the port, which stood as a testament to their recent achievements, a knot of nervous anticipation began to coil within him. His attempts to glean information about their purpose or destination were met with Sylvanas's tantalizing yet infuriating responses—always coy and filled with enigmatic hints. "You will see," she'd say with a smirk that hinted at secrets hidden just beneath the surface. Uther suppressed the urge to sigh; surprises were not his preferred path, yet an insatiable curiosity gnawed at him, fueling his patience.

Standing amidst the vast emptiness of the wilderness, Uther couldn’t stifle his impatience. The endless waiting only served to exacerbate his restlessness, and the encroaching chill in the air wasn’t helping. He began to grow increasingly testy, his features settling into an irritable expression as time passed without a hint of the purpose behind this clandestine gathering.

A sudden, swift movement from Sylvanas jerked Uther from his reverie, prompting him to scan their surroundings for any sign of danger. Yet, despite his vigilant sweep, there was nothing that immediately threatened them. Turning toward Sylvanas for an explanation, he noticed her fixed gaze upward, and in reflex, he followed her line of sight, eyes widening in awe.

A celestial entity soared toward them—a being of radiant Light, its wings an ethereal spectacle that illuminated the world around it. As the luminous figure drew closer, Uther's breath caught in his chest, awestruck by the sheer majesty of the being. It was the Light’s Chosen, descending gracefully from the heavens. The splendor of the Light's aura around him bathed the environment in a surreal brilliance.

The wonderment deepened as another figure, accompanied by the same radiant wings of Light, landed nearby. It was Velonara—either empowered to bear such divine wings or having learned to manifest them herself. Their unexpected arrival, however, only served to compound Uther's burning curiosity. Why had this meeting been arranged in such a remote and desolate place? The unanswered questions weighed heavily on his mind, amplifying his confusion and impatience.

Once more, Uther's attempt to voice his thoughts was abruptly interrupted by the shadowy presence casting a veil over them. His gaze instinctively lifted upward, only to be greeted by an awe-inspiring sight—dragons, a multitude of them, soaring gracefully in the skies above before descending earthward.

As each dragon touched the ground, a tremor rippled through the terrain, followed by a transmutation that left Uther breathless. The massive, majestic dragons shifted and contorted, morphing into humanoid forms—humans and elves. Uther squinted, absorbing the revelation that dragons possessed the ability to change their appearance. The realization unsettled him slightly, casting a new layer of intrigue upon the creatures.

Surveying the unfamiliar faces surrounding him, Uther couldn't place a single individual. However, he understood the futility of recognition, realizing that their forms were as malleable as the dragons'—any prior acquaintance could be cunningly disguised.

"An intriguing transformation," remarked Sylvanas, her curiosity piqued by the shape-shifting display. Meanwhile, one of the transformed dragons approached them—an entity known as Korialstrasz or Krasus, as introduced by the Light’s Chosen.

"Uther, Sylvanas," the Light’s Chosen began, his voice resonating with authority, "meet Korialstrasz, also known as Krasus. She of Life, Alexstrasza has pledged her support to our cause and entrusted him to gather those he deems essential for our mission."

Krasus, momentarily baffled by the Light’s Chosen's unusual designation of Alexstrasza as "She of Life," opted to defer the inquiry for later. Instead, he redirected his attention toward Uther—a being whose aura felt oddly peculiar—and Sylvanas, another Light-infused undead, both standing before him.

From their poised demeanor and presence, Krasus deduced that these two figures held some measure of authority. He acknowledged them both with a respectful nod, carefully considering his words before speaking. “The Scourge is a blight on life, and while tentative plans were in motion regarding its eradication, assisting you in this task is imperative.” Though not an outright fabrication, Krasus knew the urgency of this alliance superseded any previous considerations about battling the undead.

Uther reciprocated the gesture with equal respect, his expression softening as he addressed the dragons. “Well met. Any aid in combatting the blight that plagues our world is deeply appreciated.” His relief was palpable; encountering dragons supportive of their cause provided a glimmer of hope amid the daunting challenges they faced.

Sylvanas, however, remained reserved, her shrewd gaze fixed on Krasus, a silent assessment unfolding as she attempted to glean as much as possible from the dragon’s demeanor and words.

Light’s Chosen, always commanding in tone, set the course forward. “Our next imperative is to secure a foothold in Dragonblight, a strategic position from which we can assail Naxxramas. The desecration of dragon remains by the Scourge must be halted immediately. They must not continue their abhorrent attempts at resurrecting Frost Wyrms from the bones of the deceased dragons.”

The weight of Light’s Chosen’s words had a distinct impact on each of them. Krasus, learning of the Scourge’s horrifying practices, felt a surge of visceral shock and anger that radiated through his being. The sheer audacity and sacrilege of such acts fueled a righteous fury within him.

Uther, with his profound connection to honor and reverence, empathized with Krasus’s turmoil. The desecration of dragon remains struck a chord deep within him, igniting a sense of shared outrage and determination.

Sylvanas, unsurprised by the Scourge’s vile tactics, was already contemplating the practicalities of constructing a new stronghold. Her mind swiftly shifted gears, considering the potential assistance the dragons could offer in this endeavor, calculating the best strategic approach.

Each individual’s response was a nuanced reflection of their perspectives and experiences, united by a shared resolve to combat the nefarious deeds of the Scourge.