keladryhawklight

[keladryhawklight]

We're Taking the Brightmaul to Grafenwohr!

21 Oct 632

Although it was midday in Westfall, the skies were a dark, stormy gray as a rainstorm prepared to blow over the hills. Sat in the great hall of Hawklight before a fire, Kel lay on a couch with one of the newer medical texts open on her chest. It happened to be a summarization of all of the newest surgical procedures that had been adapted following the conclusion of the Alliance mission in the Shadowlands; all the surgical intricacies found across the plane had been combined into one precise volume of knowledge that could be applied to those who were living beings on Azeroth. To most, it was an incredibly boring repertoire. To her, it was knowledge that could one day save a life. Who knew? Some of the procedures had come in handy while they had been in the Shadowlands those years ago.

A soft whirring just behind the couch reached her ears. It was not a noise that originated from Duke or Yenafur. It was different. More.. energetic.

Please Light, do not be another hit squad, she prayed silently. She half-curled upwards, peeking over the couch to see what could possibly be interrupting her afternoon.

Magical runes seemed to write themselves into the air in seconds before a portal opened into her living room. From within it, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the collar. She had the all of about a half-second before a voice reached her ears. “You’re coming with me,” it clipped as it dragged her towards the portal.  Her book hit the floor with a dull thud, startling Yenafur who had been curled by the fire. A dark snarl filled the room, as she went head over couch, hit the floor and was dragged towards the portal. She struggled against the hand, holding onto the couch leg for dear life.

“We’re going to Grafenwohr!” the voice bellowed out into the house.

She paused, ceasing her struggles against the portals grasp. Grafenwohr? It’s taking me to Grafenwohr?

“I’m taking you to Grafenwohr,” the portal reiterated. “Let go of the damn couch. It’s not coming with us.”

(( @tobiasfarnal ))

[keladryhawklight]

keladry: Good evening, I'm experimenting with healing using Donkey Kong bongo controllers, so please bear with me if I'm a bit slow

[keladryhawklight]

Secret Father Winterveil!

An overnight retreat to Boralus Harbour for some Winterveil fun! The troops exchanged their Secret Father Winterveil gifts around a cozy fire. 

[keladryhawklight]

20 Dec 22 - The NARAD Father Winterveil Patrol 

Still imagery of the troops while on patrol over the skies of Eastern Kingdoms. 

[keladryhawklight]

After Action Report - 20 Dec 632

After Action Report – 20 Dec 632 - NARAD Father Winterveil Patrol

On the evening of 20 Dec 632, on/around 2030 hours, a voluntary group of personnel from the 47th Infantry Regiment, assisted the Gnomish Air Force with one of their operations. 

Lead by myself, Champion Keladry Brightmaul, we worked in tandem with Commander Amelia Battlehart (Wing Commander – Northern Azerothian Aerospace Defence Command (NARAD)), Major Krillos Thunderbrake (Squadron Commander – 133rd Fighter Squadron, Captain Sparklethrottle – 133rd Fighter Squadron and Captain Steelwing – 133rd Fighter Squadron. 

The volunteer mission was a sortie that departed from the Ironforge Airfield, and took us into the air space of Alterac, Northern Lordaeron and Arathi, to protect Father Winterveil as he arrived at his lodge point deep in the Alteraci mountains. 

 The voluntary force divided into flight teams for the sortie; G1 – MAJ Thunderbrake, Cadet Goldmane, RCT Cerulethal and PVT Sunveil; G2 – CAPT Sparklethrottle, Cadet Hempstead, RCT Moonkeg and PVT Josephson; G3 – CAPT Steelwing, KCP Brightmaul, and PVT Ryvsirra. In G-280’s, we patrolled over the region, engaging only in the elementals discovered in the skies. 

Note: The Gnomish Air Force had pre-established a Memorandum of Understanding with Silvermoon City in which it was agreed neither side would engage the other during routine flight operations. 

 As we completed our loop of the northern skies, we were blessed enough to have the opportunity to escort Father Winterveil into the Alteraci mountains so that he could land and prepare himself for his days ahead. Upon his safe landing, we returned to the Ironforge Airfield for a quick debrief before the troops were dismissed. 

Respectfully, 

K. Brightmaul, KCP   3 XO 

Annex A: Radar Capture of Sortie Zone - 20 Dec 632

[keladryhawklight]

Art of Keladry, AI Generated.

Following the Storm Chapters RP.

[keladryhawklight]

“There are three rules you must always keep in mind when it comes to emergent critical situations,” she explained quietly. “The first, is that remember the patients name when you speak to their family. They are a brother, a mother, sister, father, child, or friend; on the surgical recorder, they are ‘the patient’. To the family, they are everything and you are all that stands between them and a desperately uncertain present. Two; if a patient is close to death upon arrival, you must always do as much as you can, as fast as you can do it. To us, it may be easy to see that there is a line between what we can and what we cannot do. What injuries we can, and what injuries we cannot save someone from. But for the families, we can tell them that we have done everything in our power that we could have possibly done to help them, regardless of the outcome. The third rule is that you will always, regardless of who the patient is, and what your connections are to them, treat the patient and their family with the most respect and honor that you could give to them. Sheltering someone from the truth does a disservice to the patient and their family, because it implies an assumption that they are unable to face the reality before them. The people that come to us for care and guidance will always be far more resilient than what we can assume; they are strong, and so must you be.” - Kel, prepping CPL Kesalari Winterbreeze for the difficult discussions with patients.

[keladryhawklight]

Eye of the Storm

28 Nov, 1130AM

The nurse Aerimell had spoken to had sought Kel out; not for approval on what he had advised her to do, no she would never question his expertise, but his demeanor had worried her. Had that been fear in the kind doctors eyes, she asked silently. What reason did he have to fear? Was there something here? And so she found herself knocking at Kel’s door within the span of ten minutes. Upon arriving at the door however, she hesitated. Was it something to bring to the Champions attention?

She raised a hand to knock and stifled a sharp cry when the door suddenly opened without a noise being made. Kel, on the other hand, wasn’t as ready to see someone right there. She jerked, jumping almost out of her skin as a quiet curse in goblin fell from her lips. After the blink of an eye, she smoothed herself back out, realizing that the nurse more than likely wanted something. She hadn’t come with a chart, which was odd though.

“Light above, I wasn’t expecting that. Yes?” She asked the woman who’d scared the Light out of her. She was just getting ready to go home after a long night of work in the OR following an attack on the city. While clean, it was clear she had been there since at least the night before. “Can I help you?” “I- that is- er, I hope..” the nurse stammered, not quite sure how to spit it out. Raising a brow, Kel simply waited. This was interesting. Normally none of the nurses and other staff held back. What was the issue here? “You can tell me,” she prodded gently. “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

The nurse took a breath. “Doctor Sundershade was behaving mightily strangely today.” “How?” “Well, when he provided follow-up care for our patient, he seemed afraid of something. Not simply nervous or anxious, but true fear,” she explained. “It was the strangest thing. Our patient care had been routine until then. There was nothing to fear.” No, Kel reasoned silently. There wasn’t anything apparent to fear, but everyone had wounds they never spoke about. She answered gently. “Be on your way now. I will look in on him and see what the matter is.” The nurse, grateful to be dismissed, shot back down another hallway. “How odd,” Kel muttered to herself. “True fear? That’s not particularly like him. Anxiety, yes.” Exiting her office, she locked the door behind her and made her way down the hallway to where Aerimell had his offices located.

The door was closed and appeared to be locked. Also strange. She raised her knuckles and rapped sharply against the door twice, calling his name. As she called his name, a strange eerie feeling stole over her. Dismissing it, she gave her head a sharp shake.

No, she reasoned. Everything was fine™. Her communications device suddenly squawked at her hip. &lt;< "Knight-Champion Brightmaul," >> Andrastyn's voice rang out, << "This is Sergeant Sundershade. I have been unable to reach the Lieutenant. Have you received word?" >> <<“I am standing in front of his door knocking,”>> Kel replied, speaking into the device. She could see Cedric Sutherland watching her from down the hallway but paid him no mind. The Private was still earning his stripes. <<“Has he left for the day, or is he working in your clinic?”>> << "Negative, ma'am. The last word I received from the Lieutenant was that he was still assisting following the riots; he should still be in the Cathedral, though not in my clinic. I am on my way." >>

She knew that he had worsened; it was part of the reason she and the Marshal had collaboratively ended his field career. His condition had deteriorated to the point where neither one of them had felt it was safe for him to continue returning to active operations and assigned him to garrison medical duties.

But if he was supposed to be here.

&lt;< “I’ll be right there,” >> Andi had said. Her voice however, left her senses screaming in concern. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her eyes went up the door. Down the door. She called his name one last time and absolutely smacked the door with her palm, clearly meaning business.

Had he been any kind of conscious, it would have had him at the door in seconds. But the demand went unanswered, and so she made up her mind. Taking about ten steps back to the opposite side of the hallway, she took a breath and then pushed off the wall, ramming the door with her shoulder as hard as she could, hitting it with a slam. Privacy and hospital property be damned, she’d pay for it later. It popped forward, slapping forward to slam backwards all the way open, the knob embedding in the wall. She crashed to the floor on her belly, tumbling into the room in a flurry.

Her eyes came up as she came to rest, landing on Aerimell’s still form. At the very top of her voice, in her strictest ‘don’t ask questions’ voice she snapped an order.

“SOMEBODY GET ME A GODS DAMNED GURNEY!”

Doing a fluid push-up off the floor, she scooted across the floor to his side. Twin masses lay in an obscene puddle nearby, a stark portrait of the seriousness of the situation. Whipping out her stethoscope, she all but ripped his coat and shirt open and slapped the face against his bare chest. She could barely hear anything, simply the fluttering of life. If anything, it made her work faster, harder, to bring him back from the edge of life and death. “Prep a crash cart,” she clipped as both Cedric and Kesalari whipped into the room. “Winterbreeze, get into a surgical ward, and get it prepped as soon as possible. We will be right behind you. You’re my extra hands while we open him up.” She nodded at Kesalari, hoping there would be no further questions. “Sutherland, get in here with that gurney. We’re going to get him stabilized, then up and rolling. Standby for CPR. He’s still here, and Light be damned if I let him go,” she clipped. She followed this with a clipped order at a nearby orderly. “IV kit, and two bags of D5W.” She all but threw her stethoscope to the side and continued working, prepping veins for an IV butterfly. While she worked, she kept her attention on Aerimell; she trusted the other two to follow the orders they were given to the letter. In the meantime, she prepped the back of his hand for IV fluids. Her left hand stabilized the vein than ran over the back of his hand and up into his forearm, before she sank the needle home. Within thirty seconds, he was connected to the sustainment fluids. She shoved the IV bag at an orderly, barking, “Don’t drop this. Hold it until he’s on the gurney.”

As Cedric wheeled the gurney in, she grabbed a backboard that had been conveniently tucked into the bottom of the gurney. They had to get him up and moving as soon as it was clear to do so. “Sutherland, help me get him up,” she called, sliding the board partially underneath Aerimell’s prone form. “We’re going to lift on three, ready? One. Two. And three.”

Between the two of them, Aerimell’s body was almost weightless; he was delicate, horrifyingly so, and almost emaciated under his coat. That was concerning. “And now we lift,” she nodded at Cedric. “We’re going to go straight up, and then onto the gurney on three. One. Two. And three.” They settled him onto the gurney in quick silence, each working to make sure that IV’s were fastened to the gurney poles properly. Kel kept a free hand on his pulse, feeling the feather-light beat of a fluttery and weak pulse. He was still fading. It was a race against time. “Go, go, go,” she nodded, beginning the push on the gurney. The nurse she who had been holding the IV bag prior to Aerimell settling into the gurney shot ahead of them, straight to OR2, where Kesalari and Honstire awaited. She punched the gurney bay door lock open just as Kel and Cedric pushed in.

There was an immediate flurry of activity within the OR -- Thankfully Winterbreeze had shot back down the hallway to make the necessary preparations with Honstire at her side to ready the suite for surgery. Their anesthesiologist came flying into the room, freshly scrubbed in, followed by a handful of OR hands. Kel stepped back from the gurney and immediately pivoted her attention for the barest time she could afford.

“Hons,” she called. Ripping one of her rank epaulets off her shoulder, she tossed it at him. “Sergeant Sundershade is of no sound mind to mind the hospital or patients. You’re in charge on the front lines of the ward until I step foot out of this OR. Winterbreeze is with me, Sutherland and Sparklecog are your right and left hands. If anything goes absolutely wildly out of line, you send one of them beelining to this OR comms room and patch in for advice. Understand? I trust you to use your best judgement.” She waited for his acknowledgement of the order before turning and darting to a sink. Continuing she ordered, “Send a message to the Marshal as soon as you can. Absolutely and ONLY for the Marshal’s eyes only. Not the Commander, not Champion Sparrowmind, Marshal Edain. Advise him that there’s been a critical incident involving Lieutenant Sundershade, that I and Corporal Winterbreeze are in surgery with him, and that there will be routine updates on his condition as we work. Do you understand this?”

She looked at Kesalari and nodded, “Scrub in, Winterbreeze. You’re with me today.” To Hons, she continued, “You will also find immediate support for Sergeant Sundershade. Summon the Elunite chaplain from the Keep to come and sit with her. And if she requires support for their daughter Mari, you are to provide it immediately.”

All that was said in the span of two minutes. Her adrenaline was pumping hard, and the surgical suite lights came on with a soft hum. They could be delayed no longer. Gloved and gowned up, she tugged up her mask and gave them both one last nod. “Go.”

To Kesalari, she simply said, “Whether you’re ready or not, it’s time to get to work.

The anesthesiologist, Doctor Benjamin Northway, was a resident spicy Gilnean. While incredibly knowledgeable about his profession and incredibly dedicated to the care of others, he was also possessed of an incredibly cheeky disposition that only made the OR a funnier place to be. But today was not a day where humour would be found in their OR. “Ready Benji?” Kel asked. “I know you and I have had a very long night, and I appreciate you scrubbing back in with me.” “Aye love, wouldn’ miss it f’the world,” He nodded, his focus on Aerimell. While Kel had briefed the Corporals and Privates, he had begun settling Aerimell into a prepped surgical statis. “No’ f’r this LT. He’s a roigh’ fine lad.” “Alright. Lets get to work then. Bette,” She called to a nurse she knew quite well. “Begin the surgical clock.”

The soft chime of the surgical clock starting set everything in motion. As she stepped up to her preferred spot, she sent a small silent prayer into the nether. Holy Light, please this be successful. Become one with my hands, and let them be an instrument of healing. Guide them and grant them the strength to ease Aerimell’s suffering. Through pain, suffering, sickness, and sadness, you have guided my steps, and I pray that you do not abandon me to the darkness yet. I ask only for guidance, and the strength of heart and spirit to see this through. Aerimell’s form was even stiller, and due to the nature of the surgery they needed to perform, he had been intubated and placed on a ventilator to assist with his breathing. She had never seen him so lifeless, and the fact was incredibly jarring. The first cut in surgery was always the easiest to make -- one didn't have to pick and choose where to cut. One simply cut. Her scalpel sliced through skin and sinew, and with Kesalari’s help, they soon had Aerimell’s lungs open bared to the surgical lights above. (edited)

“Deflating his left lung,” Kel stated for the surgical tape. “As the patient is on a ventilator, his right lung will continue to work until we can reinflate his left. We are going to be examining the lung for possible injury, cancerous or otherwise.”

As they worked to deflate Aerimell’s left lung Kel took a breath, and reached into the body cavity to begin palpating the lung, and the walls around the lung. Her fingers were light as a butterflies as she explored. What she had, she stiffened, pausing all movement. Growths. Hard and unmoving. She knew what these were, and she knew what the solution to them was. Her eyes closed for a thirty second pause on the surgical clock. You stupid, stupid man, she thought to herself. You knew about this. Her voice was higher-pitched when she spoke again. “The patient presents with multiple growths on his left lung, which have begun to produce growing clots. We shall perform a recovery surgery to preserve as much of the tissue as possible.”

Removing growths would be the easier part. With Kesalari’s help, she began to remove the biggest growths. They were placed into a small metal dish, each one dropping with a hideous plop into the bin. From his left lung, three growths in total were removed. As she examined the last few, her heart fell straight to the floor. Her voice was quiet when she spoke to the recorder. “While three growths were removed easily from the patients lungs, there are a handful of cancerous growths that I am not able to remove without killing the patient. We will make necessary repairs to the left lung, and upon successful placement of the lung tube and established connection with the ventilator, will proceed onto the right lung procedure.”

As she worked, she guided Kesalari, showing her how to successfully operate on supremely delicate tissues like the lungs and allowed the Corporal to feel for herself what cancerous nodes felt like. It was a lifesaving operation, but Kel could not forget that it was also a teaching moment for someone who did not have the same experience that she did. They soon had the lung tube successfully placed, and connected to the ventilator. With a soft hiss, the machine did it’s work, and Aerimell’s chest rose and fell rhythmically in even (although weak) breaths.

“How is he holding up, Benji,” Kel looked up from Aerimell’s lungs to address the Gilnean. “Steady as a lark for now, bu’ I’d make quick work.” Benji’s words held a warning. Work fast or lose him. Aerimell could only take so much, and his sickness had shortened their time by quite a bit. “Deflating the right lung. The patient will remain on a ventilator, which will remain fully breathing for him over the period of the next four to seven days while his lungs re-inflate.”

She began again, palpating around his lung and the lung wall for nodes. There were just as many on this side, and just as big. Again, she showed Kesalari how to remove growths, explaining the process and what allowed a node to be removable. Her focus was laser sharp with each cut of diseased tissue, for she could give him no less than 110%. Another two growths joined the trio from his left lung in the metal dish before she spoke to the recording again. “Two growths have been easily removed from the patient's right lung. In this lung, there remain two rooted cancerous nodes that I am not able to remove at this time without placing the patient’s life in danger. We have done all we can to recover the lungs, and all that remains is to place the right lung tube and ensure connectivity to the ventilator before closing.

Bette spoke up, “You’re at four and a half hours.” “Y’can’ go much further lass,” Benji offered quietly. “I know,” Kel answered just as softly. There really was nothing more that they could do to help him. Aerimell was at the end of every lifesaving surgical preventative intervention that she could give to him. He was lucky that his body tolerated the stress that she had just put him under; the chances of death on the table had been high. What was going to be worse than death itself was the sickness that was going to follow this. A lump all but strangled the breath from her throat, and she fought a losing battle to quash it. “Prepare to close the patient,” Kel addressed the recording. “He will be moved into ICU recovery, with a constant monitor for the first 48 hours of recovery time. Winterbreeze, when you and I are finished, you will follow me for your next lesson.”

The next lesson would probably be the hardest one of all to learn.

[keladryhawklight]

The Storm

27 Nov, After Midnight Kel stepped out of the Hospital, moving to a bench just outside of the doors. A cup of coffee was clutched in her hands, her beaten tin mug that accompanied her just about everywhere. Dropping onto the bench, she let out a long low sigh and set the cup down on the arm of the bench. Her scrubs were splattered with blood, dried and drying, her hair was sweat stained, and her hands shook like the very devil. It had been a very long night indeed, one filled with the screams of pain, shock, and fear of the injured souls streaming in from another attack on the city.

Dracthyr, humans, worgen and elves had littered the floor of the hospital, triaged in the first ward and then passed into level one care, which was the easiest of wounds to treat, level two care, which included burns, shrapnel injuries and wounds to suture and stitch, and then the level three critical care, which included immediate and emergency lifesaving surgical intervention. She had spent hours in the Level Three critical care ward, up to her elbows in innards. Patient after patient, they had meticulously rotated the room within minutes, every one of the pitching in to re-sanitize the room after every patient had been transported out. They had about ten minutes to turn the room around, take a breath, and start it all over again. But done it they had.

Her head fell back against the wall the bench sat against, and she closed her eyes for a brief moment of repose.

Hopefully, the violence would de-escalate again. It had to, she reasoned.

[keladryhawklight]

Three Years

Three Years Later, 632

A breeze blew over the plains of Westfall, lightly stirring up crystals of snow to dance over the rolling hills. The day had brought light snowfall and the peace that comes with the onset of true winter. It was chilly, but not harshly so; the wind was what really drove the cold in. Harsh puff of breath escaped Leira's muzzle as they rode. A friesian, he was pure black, standing out starkly against the white and beige backdrop of the plains. A devil to the bone, his attitude was on full display as they worked; every so often the huffing of cattle bellowing was punctuated by a snort of pure derision from the destrier.

It was winter, but the cattle also needed to be driven back towards Hawklight, to their winter pasture. They were similar to a Highland breed, with fluffy walnut fur and longhorns and served many a purpose in Hawklight; their fur and hides clothed the refugees that continued to stream into the west and were exported to the markets in Stormwind for income. Their meat was the same. Each cow was valued at around 1500-2000 gold per head, and their herd was about one hundred per year, with around 10-15 calves being auctioned at local markets, or sent to Redridge for sale. It had been something they had invested in shortly after their return to Stormwind in 629 from their final operation of that year. With the help of a fantastic banker, and a fantastic pair of ranchers from northern Westfall, they had grown the herd over the last three years to the herd they had today; Hawlight was more self-sustaining and prosperous than it had been in previous years.

Their family was more prosperous than it was three years ago, she thought quietly as a dull ache of grief crossed her heart. Kos would have been so proud, she knew, to see the region coming back to life.

"Steady up old man," Kel laughed quietly as she leant over and gave Leira a firm pat on the neck. "We're almost home."

The three years had taken a toll on their family; following the cessation of Operation Hearth, she and Sandor had returned to Westfall for a long period of leave after returning from Grafenwohr for Toby and Dymphna's long-awaited nuptials. Their return meant that the hard work needed to begin. The first order of business had been to lay Narakos to rest at their family plot and to prepare the transfer of estate to her and Sandor. Acknowledging deciding powers had been a battle she had never wanted to wage, but it had been conducted nonetheless. Her mother and Adarina had been inconsolable. Solomon had been there in body only, no doubt his mind on his own loss of family. That Winters Veil had been a solemn one, for no one had been of sound mind to celebrate. The veil of grief had simply been a heavy pall over their household. Nonetheless, they had to go on. And so they had.

Over a meeting of the minds, she and Sandor and a handful of the longtime tenants of Hawklight planned out the future of Hawklight; what plans Narakos had died with him and the estate needed to move on. Sandor had taken the reins of running an estate with ill liking; in his eyes, he wasn't worthy, and hadn't proved himself to the people. In that first year, she had caught him many a time running himself ragged to prove his worth to their people. Not that he had any need to, for in the five years of their marriage, he had never once given those at Hawklight a reason to doubt his dedication to their family.

Their planning huddle had affirmed a few things that were already quite apparent; one, that immediate action was needed in order to ensure continued sustainability of Hawklight, and two, that while the agricultural practices established by her father and brothers had been sustainable thus far, they needed solutions to ensure the continued survivability along with the ability to sustain the refugee hub that was over two decades old. And so, investments in cattle were explored. Towards the end of that year, Kel had taken the savings from her work in the 47th, from doing surgeries in Stormwind, and her share of Hawklight's revenue, and invested heavily in a stocky breed of highland cattle perfect for the region. She had started with fifty head, including a handful of handpicked bulls from excellent stock to ensure the success of their operations going forward. Driving them from Stormwind to Hawklight had been a three day operation; it had been a hilariously hellish endeavor but an ultimately successful one. The first time they had brought meat, wool and leather to the market had been a gamble; an unsure one to be certain, but they had come out with a small win that year, and the year following.

Their cattle now roamed the hills between Hawklight and Sentinel Hill during the summer, and were  driven back to the southern grazing pasture between Hawklight and its southern mountains for the winter.

The second order of business had been to reconfirm, and establish new operations within Hawklight's trade mandate through early 630. A gTek workshop  had been established within the boundaries of Hawklight's reach, bringing with it upgrades and routine maintenance to farm equipment, and other technologies to the region. Trade contracts had been renewed between Hawklight and Cindervale, and established between Hawklight and Grafenwohr. Thank the Light that all three had worked out well in their favour, because the connections had immediately worked to continue the prosperous growth of their region. People were happier. Less went hungry. The winter seemed like something that wouldn't sap them of their strength.

Towards the end of 630, they had been blessed even further with another surprise. Liera pranced sideways, as she thought of Londyn. Now almost two, he was as much a replica of her as Tali was of Sandor. Her lips curved upwards in a gentle smile, thinking of how fast time had flown with his pregnancy. It had seemed like mere moments before he had arrived, a small bundle with a shock of flame red hair. Londyn Uther Brightmaul, their son. Thank the Light the circumstances of his birth were far better than his sisters. She wasn’t sure she could undergo that again in a lifetime. His green eyes were as filled with innocence as Tali's violet ones were filled with fiery will.

The familiar spire of Hawklight rose up in the distance as they crested the final hill. With a sharp whistle, the other handful of ranch hands began to push the cattle in their final drive to the winter pasture. With a nod, she tugged at Liera's reins, turning him away from the cattle drive, and back towards the main house. It was high time she checked in on her little family. "Mama!" came the loudest tiny-bellow from the front door of Hawklight manor. Blonde curls danced in the winter air as Talithe, now almost six, waved furiously from the steps. "Mama!" She waved back just as furiously as Liera cantered in towards the stables, a quiet laugh escaping her. Tali was a copy of Sandor, right down to her mannerisms. The flame of stubborn will in her face sent her almost to tears laughing the first time she had displayed it against Sandor. Put to the test, he was sure to be no match for their daughter. They were blessed, she and Sandor, with their family.

"Lady Brightmaul!" yelled a voice, coming from the house. A feeling of ill ease stole over her as the shout reached her. Pulling up, she twisted in the saddle, turning to the voice. "News from the City!" She dismounted, tugging off her gloves as she handed Liera's reins off to a stable hand. The messenger was at her side in an instant, pressing an official notice into her hand.

The official seal of the Kingdom of Stormwind

It seemed that their idyllic respite had come to an end.

[keladryhawklight]

The Second Step

The clock ticked loudly, obliterating the silence of her office. Kos had been dead for a few days now, but the fiery burn of sorrow in her chest simply wouldn't let up. This office, normally a quiet haven from the chaotic bustle of hospital operations did not stand up to the pain of a loss this dear.

My beloved brother. Simply... Gone.

The image of his body in pieces on their floor was something that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Thank the Light her mother and sister were not present to see what had happened to him. The image of him as he had been what they needed to preserve. Not the bloodied, brutal consequences of an assault on their family home.

A file lay before her on the desk, open to a handful of engineering plans. Her surgical plan lay beside it, currently abandoned. Nyla's file, her second or third prosthetic surgery under her hands, she couldn’t quite remember right this moment. This one was intensive; almost a full body replacement. Her gaze drifted down the pages, and while it didn’t seem like she was particularly focused on any thing  before her, she knew the plan by heart. She had to, for Nyla was counting on the confidence behind her blades to cut and stitch back together a form stronger than before.

The clock dinged one hour past noon. It was time. Shrugging into a surgical overcoat and mask, she made her way down the unfamiliar ward of the Cindervale hospital, and into the surgical wings. Nyla's prone form awaited her there, having been under a steadily increasing level of sedation for the last half hour or so. Coming into the room, she silently scrubbed in, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

Light, please let this surgery be successful. There has already been so much loss, sorrow and anger this week. Please do not let me add to the burden on the Regiment. I could not bear to feel this pain magnified.

When she entered the room, Nyla lay on her back in her human form. Her short auburn hair shone under the gleam of the surgical lights. There was no tension in her body, something that was sad to note. She opened her Light, allowing it to flow freely around the room as she walked towards Nyla. Knowing the other woman wouldn’t necessarily be consciously aware of the Light, the unconscious being was who really mattered. The most vulnerable self was who needed to be comforted. Leaning down, she murmured softly into Nyla's ear, "I told you last time, Vermillion, that the journey wasn't over. This is but another step along the way, and we will see you through to the other side of this gulf."  

She straightened, calling, "Status check, please." "Ready and waiting," came the voice of Ivan, one of her trusted hands in Cindervale.

Her gaze went one last time over the surgical field, carefully examining everything. The selected tools and implements, but more importantly the medi-tech prosthetics that had been provided by Goldworks Technologies. A left arm and leg, right hand and right lower leg, all carefully crafted from the finest mithril produced in Ironforge. Each was paired with the bio-implants already established within Nyla's body, so it was more or less a matter of replacing pre-existing mechanics, or failing bone. Déjà vu took her for a moment. It was last year that she had stood in this very place, under the exact same lights, over the same body.

"Please begin recording. We will start on the left," she acknowledged quietly. "Our patient, designation N,  has given complete and full consent for this procedure. It is heavily invasive; we will be replacing her left arm from the shoulder down, her left leg from the hip down, her right hand from the wrist down, and her right leg from below the knee down. All of these modifications should pair with the neuromorphic chip implanted in her body over a year ago." The table began to raise Nyla's shoulders as she applied pressure to a foot pedal underneath the bed. Her scalpel began to cut, slicing through skin and muscle with ease as she made the first incision. Speaking as she worked, she continued to diligently document the procedure. "This technology, first introduced in Mechagon, was introduced to the Alliance almost three years ago after having been trialed successfully. Subject N has successfully undergone prosthetic enhancements in the past, and has had minimal issues integrating bio-mechanics."

As she opened Nyla's shoulder to the surgical suite, she began to systematically separate what was necessary from unnecessary biological parts. The muscles stripped from the joint would be surgically reattached to the new limb with bio-anchors. Her work was meticulous, with her focus narrowed on the small field. At the hour and a half mark, she took a breath and separated arm from body with a gentle tug.

"Limb successfully separated. The reattachment of Subject N's new limb will begin now," Kel explained quietly. As she worked through each step, each was described down to the last detail. "We are implementing a mithril joint that will support extended combat operations, and support biological integration. Fastened to the clavicle with a set of mithril screws, the ball joint is connected to the rest of the limb and speaks to the shoulder muscles via nerve signals and electric impulses. There is a neuromorphic chip contained within this prosthetic. Any nerve signals from the biological part of Subject N should re-transmit down the bio-mechanics to electrical impulses. Once Subject N has recovered, her range of motion, strength and dexterity should be no less than her previously known skill."

The soft whirr of a surgical drill echoed throughout the room as she finished screwing the ball-joint into Nyla's shoulder. The limb itself wasn't particularly difficult to affix. It was just a matter of maneuvering the limb into it's affixed housing, and cementing it's place with a series of tiny, but very flexible joint screws.  

"All sats and vitals are holding steady," their anesthesiologist called. "Patient N has met all necessary requirements to move onto the next part of the surgery."

As she moved on, the support crew standing by in the surgical wing moved in to Nyla's shoulder to begin closing the open wound around the new ball joint. "Please ensure to swab the wound with the beeswax salve contained in the jars marked by the leaf etching," Kel requested quietly. "It will alleviate any residual bone pain throughout the patient's recovery and speed her recovery process. She does not have the privilege of a long recovery -- her chain of command has requested her presence at a training operation which is due to begin soon. As such, any additional support we can give her, magical or otherwise, will be used to promote a rapid-regeneration of self." This was only partially true. They had all been hurt, Nyla included. It had been her request to attend this operation, with the enhanced form she had wanted for so long. And with her brother one of the missing.. she had just as much right to be on the ground alongside them.

The next part of the surgery was a left leg replacement. As she had with her shoulder, Kel began with a series of cuts, methodically cutting away muscle and sinew to make room for mechanical enhancements. Because there was no joint removal, this one was considerably easier. Within the hour, Kel had the limb removed and prepped for the new housing. Similar to the last, mithril screws cemented bio-matter to mechanical-matter.

"Having elected a full left leg replacement, Subject N is receiving an additional replacement of a full above-the-knee mithril bionic leg replacement. The newer technology will provide additional support to a mecha-enhanced body. The neuromorphic chip for this prosthetic has been housed within deep within the framework. Subject N will be better able to endure the combat experience without loss of mobility on the combat field. A set of six micro-screws will fasten this limb to existing bone structure, with minimal impact on the patients long-term recovery." The clock ticked over the five hour mark as she began cementing piece to body. As she finished with the last of attachments on the left side, her gaze ran over all of Nyla's left side, meticulously examining every affix she'd made. Perfection was what she owed Nyla. Nyla had given so much to the Regiment; blood, mobility, a life or two. She stepped back from the limb and rolled her neck, moving around to the right side of Nyla's still form. Again, the support crew moved in to close and dress the new limb attachment.

"All sats and vitals are holding steady," their anesthesiologist called. "Patient N has met all necessary requirements to move onto the next part of the surgery."

"Subject N has selected a full below-the-knee bionic replacement as well. It is identical in nature to the left side; she will possess a stronger, more dexterous, more enduring set of limbs following this procedure. Her prosthetic will be affixed to her bones via a series of screws which cement a ball socket housing. All muscles will be connected via bio-implants; the neuromorphic chip will transmit to the upper leg muscles and nerves, via electrical impulses, and receive the nerve messages in kind."

This leg was an easier replacement. It was a surgery she had done too often for soldiers who had lost a foot or a limb in battle.

"All sats and vitals are holding steady," their anesthesiologist called as she moved to the last part of Nyla's body. "Patient N has met all necessary requirements to move onto the next part of the surgery."

The eighth hour of the surgery ticked over and she stepped away from the foot of the surgical table and moved to the last part of the surgery. The hand replacement was the easiest, and she knew it, but she couldn’t get lax with her work as long as it had been. At the ten hour mark, she hit the point where it was smooth sailing. This was it. The final step. She stepped back, and the support crew, long having swapped over at least once, stepped in to close the final wounds. Delicate lines crisscrossed Nyla's body, all ugly and red against fair skin. Most would heal, and leave faint marks for the eye to see, but none would be harshly visible.

There was only one thing remaining. Setting her tools aside, she moved up to the head of the table and laid her hand on Nyla's shoulder. Pulling on her Light, she sent a small prayer skywards and let it go, pushing just about all but a small amount of her Light into Nyla's body rapidly. It left her sweating and shaky by the time the glow had faded, wearied by the sudden exertion. "Ivan, please ensure that all wounds are dressed appropriately," Kel requested quietly. "I will ensure her surgical notes are updated, and that the forced rejuvenation processes are followed to the letter. All of the medics who have accompanied us to Cindervale will be privy to, and partially involved with her care. I will be back as needed to continue pumping Light into her, but my Light will be assisted by the natural magics the others wield." He nodded, moving away to complete the task assigned to him. Once he left the immediate ear shot, Kel bent over to whisper softly into Nyla's ear once again. "Welcome to the second step," she murmured. "We'll see you through to the other side." 

[keladryhawklight]

"Where do we go from here?" Kel asked quietly, turning her gaze up to Sandor's unsure expression. "Despite your trepidation, your rightful title, as my husband, is now Lord of Hawklight."

[keladryhawklight]

Lady Madeleine Hawklight Hawklight Manor, Westfall

Dearest Mother,

I write to you in these darkest of days, the 7th of September, 629, with the heaviest of hearts. This morning, my brother, your son Narakos Hawklight was killed in an attack in Stormwind City.  He died valiantly defending your granddaughter, Talithe Brightmaul from assailants in our home during the early morning hours.

We, Sandor and I, have no words to describe the shock and pain of such violence in our home nor do we have any words to explain just what happened in a sensible manner. The Stormwind City Guard has instigated a manhunt into any suspects who may have any relation to the attack on our home.  

We will be accompanying Narakos' body to Westfall for burial within the coming days; the Marshal will no doubt allow us a brief respite from duties to see to the burial with few impediments to our services.

Your faithful daughter, Keladry Brightmaul

[keladryhawklight]

Death In the Family

7 Sep 629, 0230AM, Kel & Sandor's Apartment - Cathedral District

As Kel slept peacefully draped over Sandor, she knew nothing of what was to come. The last few days of their leave had been spent in idle pastime; Narakos, not one for the city had left the quiet sanctuary of Hawklight to visit Stormwind so that he could meet with the striking labourers in hopes that a deal could be brokered for Hawklight’s wares. The rolling strikes of late had reached even as far as Westfall, and those who remembered the strikes from years previous watched with bated breath to see how badly they would again be impacted.

While not her eldest brother, Narakos had been Lord of Hawklight since the time Solomon, her eldest brother, had passed on the mantle following the death of his wife Alurea and their unborn child some years prior. Solomon had fully retreated from the family, choosing to spend his time between Westfall and Icecrown in mostly solitude. Narakos, made Lord, was about three years older than Kel, and dark in looks; likened to the very devil, he had the temper to match when it was ignited. It was under his guidance that Hawklight had become a refuge within Westfall, and home to many a traveler seeking solitude from the storm that continued to ravage the dusty plains.

A cacophony of growls and barks rent the night.

Yenafur scrambled off the bed with a low, garbled hiss and hid herself in the shadows of their room. Kel’s head came up off of Sandor’s chest, and a soft noise of confusion escaped her.

“What on Azeroth is wrong with your dog,” Kel mumbled quietly. “My love h-“

The screaming yelp of Duke’s pain and Narakos’ raised voice had her rolling off of Sandor immediately. Grabbing her sword from its place on a nearby table, her feet beat against the floor as she ran to the door and yanked it open.

Her eyes flew to Narakos, and widened as she gasped, “Brother!” “Sister,” he whispered, his voice quiet with mortal fear.

His own dark eyes focused on her for a split-second before the spark of life faded from them. A flash of light from a Broker’s hand-cannon lit up the darkness of their home. A trio of Brokers was visible for the duration of a blink before they vanished through a portal of their own making.

A scream of sorrow and fury rent the air and her Light lit up the walls of their apartment. Blood soaked everything in the hallway, as if someone had taken a bucket of paint and simply lobbed it. Narakos, her elder brother, lay in pieces on their floor; his torso was gone. He simply was a head with shoulders, and his legs. Duke was also a casualty, but his tiny black eyes were filled with pain. One of his legs was gone, presumably in the same blast that had taken Narakos. Her eyes flamed with a furious, righteous fire, and her head swung towards the door of their daughter's bedroom.

Not even the Light would stop her from killing if their daughter had been harmed.

[keladryhawklight]

AAR - 24 OCT 629

After Action Report – 24OCT629 

On the evening on/around 24 Oct 629, a small support contingent consisting of MAR Edain, CDR Felmourn, KCN Sparrowmind, KNT Brightmaul, MSG Goldmane, SGT Vermillion, CPL Honstire, CPL Lancet, PVT Winterbreeze, PVT Ban,  and myself proceeded onto a patrol beyond the confines of FOB FLAME. The objective of the evening was to raid the “palace” (location determined from a device captured 5OCT629), and locate the last of the missing personnel, Ryder Vermillion and Aeaces.

Proceeding south, the patrol wound through the canyons until reaching the site of the palace, which lay at the very edges of the plane we found ourselves on. Further imagery will be attached to this briefing, specifically classified for Marshal Edain’s eyes only. The palace site was not particularly big, but intelligence gathered by CPL Lancet indicated that the building felt almost alive – as if there was a living energy inside the stone. Whether this was actually the power of Aeaces, or something more, I am still unsure, but it did not do harm to our people so I will tentatively assume that it was the former calling for aid. A quick recce of the Palace conducted by CDR Felmourn, MSG Goldmane, CPL Lancet and PVT Winterbreeze originally indicated that there were no hostiles on location. This information was unfortunately incorrect, for as soon as all four were within the confines of the Palace, they became trapped, and the target Ten’Vira revealed themselves to 47th personnel. The recce party came under heavy fire for the duration of about ten minutes and held while the remainder attempted to rendezvous.

With SGT Vermillion and KNT Brightmaul’s determination, all 47th personnel were able to rendezvous with the recce party and enter the field of combat. Shortly after entering combat, Ten’Vira withdrew and entered “the rift” , which after a quick decision was made, all personnel followed them through. Personnel reported suffering minor dizziness upon exiting the rift, but nothing that would permanently harm them. As they exited to a different part of the palace, Ten’Vira again attacked, this time with a strange warp defence system, which had been rigged to another being. When this being fell, so did the warp systems, and again Ten’Vira used the rift to attempt an escape. It was in this second room that 47th personnel discovered the body of Ryder Vermillion, an unfortunate casualty of this training exercise.

It was in the third room that the hostile Ten’Vira was ultimately taken down by PVT Winterbreeze. Upon their “death” we discovered that a phylactery had been carefully stored in the floor. It spoke to CDR Felmourn and proceeded to advise him to break the seal. As he did so, the being Aeaces appeared out of the phylactery, appearing unharmed and safe, a miracle given his capture. He was pleased to have been rescued by the 47th, and held no ill will towards any person of the Regiment. CDR Felmourn has graciously leant his assistance in escorting the being to Icecrown for a short period. 

Following our withdraw from the palace, it was demolished with the helpful addition of explosives, which MSG Goldmane carefully hand selected for our mission. Her attention to detail as always, remains impeccable. 

Respectfully, K. Brightmaul, KCN 3XO

Annex A: MAP OF CARTEL TEN WARP PLANE – CLASSIFIED 

Annex B: STILL IMAGE OF CARTEL TEN PALACE – CLASSIFIED

((Space art by Jingchun Xu ; https://www.artstation.com/artwork/castle-48c3cfba-63c8-4b03-aeec-cf9b995a0c9e )) 

[keladryhawklight]

AAR - 5 OCT 629

After Action Report – 5OCT629 

Soldiers from 1BN were summoned to FOB FLAME for an exploratory patrol into the lands surrounding the FOB. The objective of the patrol was to determine whether or not the FOB remained in safe location, that there were no further immediate incursions into our safe zone, and lastly, whether or not we could find any clues that would lead us to our lost. The patrol, consisting of CDR Felmourn, KCN Brightmaul, MSG Goldmane, SGT Vermillion, CPL Honstire, PVT Boombeard, PVT Winterbreeze, RCT Emberpower and RCT Josephson quickly began our foray into the wilderness of this in-between.

During our patrol, we came across a ridge which myself and both SGT’s came to the swift agreement seemed like a sound place for a patrol to be caught unawares at. With SGT Vermillion’s decision, a forward scouting party consisting of CDR Felmourn, SGT Vermillion and RCT Emberpower was dispatched under an invisibility spell powered by RCT Emberpower to investigate. They did happen upon a small group of Brokers who were ecstatically discussing the ‘living’ that resided at Ten’Vira’s prison. They were heard stating, ‘The discs would show them the way’, and that ‘the warp held their rewards’. It can be assumed that the living they referred to are the lost that we seek.  A decision was rendered, after they were also heard discussing what to do with the living once they traded the warp-discs to Ten’Vira, to immediately exterminate the Brokers before they could act on impulses I shall not put to word.

In our possession, following the fight, we have the warp-discs. Based on a loose understanding of their cultish phrases, it can also be assumed that the discs are a map of sorts. Of what kind, I am not aware at this time. RCT Emberpower has warded them in the meantime until KCP Farnal can investigate. 

Respectfully, 

K. Brightmaul, KCN 3 XO

[keladryhawklight]

AFTER ACTION REPORT - 24MAY629

On the evening of 24 May, on/around 1200 hrs, members of the 47th IR were recalled to duty due to an outbreak of an aspiration pneumonia in the wake of the tsunami that had struck Lor’danel some days earlier. At the time of the outbreak, we did not have any medicines that would sufficiently treat the disease before it spread rampantly throughout the camp, and requested aid from a druid known to possess incredible knowledge in the area; Talondryn Bearclaw. 

He quickly briefed the troops who volunteered for duty; MSG Marsulu Goldmane, CPL Moogie Mixwidget, CPL Honstire, RCT Thorim Boombeard and myself, on what herbs would be the most valuable to combat the sickness facing our troops. There were four that he mentioned; Stranglekelp, Peacebloom, Swiftthistle and Bears Paw. The locations in which the herbs were found is as follows:

(i)    Stranglekelp : Along the shoreline towards the Ruins of Auberdine; grows in clusters of yellow-green (young) to darker green (older) leaves, and has hollow fruits. The fruit provides patients suffering from an aspirational pneumonia with a quick burst of pure oxygen to their lungs, aiding in their ability to breathe and heal. 

(ii)    Peacebloom : Found commonly in the woods, but a stronger variation can be found within the Grove of the Ancients; Is a small silver flower, with heart-shaped yellow leaves; It is used in minor healing elixirs and can be a boost to one’s immune system 

(iii)    Swiftthistle : Found commonly in the woods alongside Peacebloom, but a stronger variation can be found within the Grove of the Ancients; grows as a thorny, bright green thistle; When brewed as a tea in conjunction with peacebloom, it provides the imbiber with a burst of healing rapid healing energy 

 (iv)    Bearpaw : It is harder to find – one must find old furlbog dens to discover this plant; it is a shrub with smaller, green, rounded leaves and large clusters of white flowers that smell of sweet apple. By utilizing the berries and leaves of this herb, one can use it to break fevers and rejuvenate the weak/wounded. As we were successful in recovering amounts of all four, I have little doubt that the settlements we have aided in recovery should have enough (after we use amounts for our currently stricken) to sustain themselves for the future to come. 

I have attached to this report a provided map showing our routes for the evening. 

If there are questions about this sickness, I remain open to address concerns. 

K. Brightmaul, KCP  3A OIC MED COY