#or the will of the *Stonehearts* themselves that fills those voids

[starcurtain]

I think it is particularly interesting how Aventurine's relationships with Jade and Topaz were depicted in 2.3.

At the risk of inciting the wrath of Aventurine/Topaz shippers (I'm sorry, everyone can ship what they want; this particular ship just isn't for me!), their interactions were framed in a very familial manner, at least when Aventurine was involved.

Jade is clearly projecting herself as a mother figure for him, directly calling him "child," a "kid," and taking on a disciplinarian role such as in this scene, where she nabs both their room keys to stop them from whining at each other. On Jade's end, this is very deliberate--given what we know of her cornerstone ability, she can almost certainly see the void that Aventurine's mother's death left in his life, and she is intentionally acting in a maternal manner in order to ensure his compliance and respect. (Personally, I'm of the opinion that Aventurine is smart enough to clock this manipulation tactic, but also that he's going along with it because why not? He was going to be manipulated anyway, might as well get free mom out of it.)

Topaz, meanwhile, definitely feels like she's being cast in the "annoyed sibling" role, particularly in this scene where they squabble so much the Trailblazer can't get a word in edgewise and Jade has to step in as the parent figure to correct their behavior.

Although the relationship is clearly different than the kind and supportive one we saw between young Kakavasha and his older sister, the "siblings fighting over a toy" and "sister irritated by bratty brother" vibe (I am such a sister myself, I feel this dynamic in my bones) was out in full force in 2.3, creating a very strong parallel to the missing sister figure in Aventurine's life.

I just think it is particularly interesting that the hole in Aventurine's heart was created primarily by the loss of his mother and sister--and then 2.3 suggests echoes of those exact roles being filled by other women who have stepped into his female relatives' places.

Given her maneuvering to fill the mother role on purpose, I have to wonder if Jade didn't also have something to do with Aventurine's connection to Topaz (clearly another favorite of Jade's). Did she help to cultivate this friendship and sibling-esque rivalry between them on purpose, with an end goal in mind?

It seems to me that it would be much more difficult for Aventurine to cut ties with the IPC if the Stonehearts were providing him with not only wealth and power but also a simulacrum of the very family he wanted to die to meet again...

Just sayin'.

[another-goblin]

Spoilers for 2.3

Some thoughts, speculations, and headcanons about our little dialogue with Ratio (+more)

1. This tells me that Ratio and Aventurine are friends (or as close to being friends as both of them are currently capable of, which isn't much, but still). Yes, what Aventurine thinks about TB could have been them discussing their mission. But I choose to think that they just chat with each other sometimes, because they actually enjoy it. Aventurine feels comfortable enough to just share what he thinks about the people he meets, and he knows that Ratio is interested in his opinions, and he's right. He listens and takes note. btw people being actual friends is my favorite trope for romantic couples.

2. Ratio seeing his relationships with Aventurine, and our TB, and people in general as a teacher and a student and being constantly in his teacher mode made me think. Probably all significant relationships in his life were those of a teacher and a student. He cannot see himself in any other role because he has never experienced it himself. I wouldn't be surprised if even his parents provided him with knowledge and education instead of parental love. This may also be why he's so frustrated with people who don't fit these two roles: normal people not interested in bettering themselves through education, students who don't take studying seriously, most scholars, and especially the Geniuses, for not actively sharing their knowledge or doing anything to uplift humanity.

3. Ratio seeing their relationship with Aventurine in particular this way is appropriately weird and a bit unhealthy, in my opinion (but what did we expect from him), considering that they are undeniably close. But that's probably the only way he knows to show his care for somebody:  to teach them stuff and help them better themselves.

4. On Avenrutine's side, he seems amused by it, in a good way (the way he playfully refers to Ratio in the descriptions of some of the 2.1 quests, "Your professor friend," and so on). He even seems to be a bit proud that an actual professor has taken an interest in him.

5. But what can he teach Aventurine? He might share his actual knowledge. I think the "Death" and "Dormancy" part of his note is him doing that. But he mostly sees his duty as a teacher in showing people that they can achieve a lot by themselves if they stop relying on higher beings who don't care about them and start relying on themselves (with little help from Ratio.)

But "relying on himself and achieving things" is what Aventurine has been successfully doing most of his life. So is it the "little help from Ratio" that matters here? Or is he helping Aventurine stop relying on his supposedly supernatural luck and realize how capable he actually is?

6. This. (btw 'philosophical zombie' means "a being in a thought experiment in philosophy of mind that is physically identical to a normal human being but does not have conscious experience" (from wiki), so basically just some weird concept in philosophy.) But what an admirably in-depth knowledge of his 'not partner' he's showing here. Are you equally interested in the inner worlds of all your students, doc?…

7. Anyways, that reminded me of what Jade said about the Stonehearts, even using the same word 'void'. So. Aventurine has a void in his heart, caused by his inability to protect people he cares about. It's very significant that Diamond gave him the power of Preservation specifically to help him fill that void, to be finally able to protect somebody he cares about. The problem is, he doesn't have anyone to protect anymore (he doesn't even see himself as worthy of protection). Until recently. So, and I'm being extremely self-indulgent here, if Ratio got in danger, Aventurine protecting and saving him would fill the void in his heart. And btw what can boost one's self-worth more than protecting somebody who's important to you? I mean, he should snap out of that 'I'm only worth the money my slaveowner paid for me' mentality sooner or later, I hope.

(the problem is, I'm not sure how it can play out now that he doesn't have his stone anymore. And he lost it, not protecting anybody but nearly killing himself and furthering the IPC's agenda. Although doing something like that without the stone would be even more significant)

Also, I hope Ratio won't realize that, and won't deliberately put himself in danger for Aventurine to save him. You know, for educational purposes.

8. He just runs around helping people, making sure everybody's okay, and, emm, 'enhance their living', that's his thing.  And even broadly speaking, with his scientific discoveries, and him saving people on Herta station. And considering that 'everybody's my student' thing, I feel like he sees himself as responsible for everybody (in his own way).

And some people still think that he's selfish and egoistic. He even gets angry when we ask for an autograph:

9. Aaand that's the third time he disappeared in the middle of a conversation involving Aventurine. I understand him, though. As somebody who also 'detests noisy gatherings', group chats aren't much better.

------

ok this was supposed to be hidden in tags but i think tumblr found it too scandalous or something i don't know, i'll just leave it here: the more I write about Ratio, the stronger the urge to just call him Rat, you know, lovingly also whoops sorry, I'm physically incapable of writing short posts, it was supposed to be a short comment about their friendship, how much content can I squeeze out of a half-minute long dialogue?, the answer is yes, but I just had to get it out of my system

[twilights-800-cats]

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Chapter 8

Stoneheart’s mind began to race as he locked eyes with the foul-smelling IceClan cat glaring down at him. We’re in front of a Twoleg den, with a Thunderpath on one side and the fence to the den’s backyard on the other. We could chance crossing the Thunderpath, but - a monster rushing by, ignorant of the territorial cats, finished the thought for him.

Stoneheart unsheathed his claws, glancing at his Clanmates. Pinewhisker was already spitting at the ginger-and-white she-cat, slashing his claws through the air. Wolftooth was lashing his tail, his fur fluffed out to look twice his size while he growled ferociously.

We could run, Stoneheart considered, but we would only get ourselves lost... and these cats would just corner us.

He hated not knowing what to do, especially when his Clanmate’s lives hung in the balance. He felt his Clanmates backing up from the fence, and he let his paws follow while his eyes searched desperately for a way out.

“Aw look,” hissed one of the IceClan cats. “They’re running, Stink!”

Stink, the foul-smelling gray tom, chuckled, “Like we’re going to let them!”

StarClan help us, Stoneheart thought. He looked back at the IceClan rogues and saw that they had leaped off of the fence and were prowling forward, advancing as slowly as the ShadowClan cats were retreating. They were fanning out to cut off any avenues of escape, to force the ShadowClan cats to turn their backs – a very unwise decision.

The ginger and white she-cat seemed to decide that there was no need to wait any longer – she lunged forward, lashing out with her dog’s-teeth claws at Pinewhisker. The smaller tabby tom ducked, thankfully, rolling away from her.

“Don’t be afraid of Poppy,” Stink chided, his tail waving mockingly, “she only wants to say hello!”

Pinewhisker curled his lip in response. “She can eat my dung, for all I care!” he spat back.

Poppy bristled, hissing. “Not before you eat mine, you forest rat!” She lunged at Pinewhisker, tail bristling and eyes burning.

Blood roared in Stoneheart’s ears. He leaped across the grass, slamming his body into Poppy’s before she could reach Pinewhisker with those wicked claws. Wolftooth’s battle cry rose in the air while Stoneheart and Poppy rolled through the grass, kicking and clawing at one another.

The rogue was a clumsy fighter, Stoneheart decided, and the dogs-teeth, dangerous as they were, seemed to make it harder for her to make quick movements. Stoneheart ducked, rolling away from one of her blows easily, conscious of the Thunderpath behind him. The easiest way to pick off the ShadowClan cats would be to get them hit by one of the monsters.

He circled around, lashing his claws out at her side. He struck true, causing Poppy to screech in fury. She reared up on her hind legs, threatening to slam her dogs-teeth claws into his head – instead of slipping away, Stoneheart lunged forward, wrapping his forepaws around her hind legs.

Poppy let out a wail of shock as, unbalanced, she toppled, landing on her side in the grass. Quickly, Stoneheart slammed his side down onto her, using his weight to pin her to the earth as he dug his teeth into her hind legs.

He tucked his rear away when he sensed she was about to claw his backside. Poppy struggled and strained, but she was a thin Twolegplace cat and Stoneheart was not only forest-born, but had a stocky, strong ThunderClan body – he was bigger than his ShadowClan-born Clanmates, and heavier too.

“Let me go!” Poppy wailed. “Let me go!”

Don’t, whispered a voice in Stoneheart’s ear, calm and quiet like a leaf-bare snowfall. She hasn’t yet learned her lesson.

Stoneheart bit down harder onto Poppy’s hind leg, tasting blood. The she-cat wailed louder and louder, and only then did Stoneheart let her go. Poppy scrambled to her paws and limped away, tail tucked between her legs and the whites of her eyes showing.

Satisfied, Stoneheart turned to his Clanmates. Wolftooth and Stink were wrestling with one another a few tail-lengths away, while Pinewhisker was doing his best to fend off the other two IceClan cats – a cream-and-ginger she-cat and a pure white tom with long, matted fur and dogs-teeth claws stuck in paws colored pink with blood.

Stoneheart lunged at the white tom, thankful for the surprise advantage. He was able to easily dig his claws into the white rogue’s shoulders, pulling him away from Pinewhisker. With the odds evened, Pinewhisker leaped onto the cream-and-ginger she-cat, the two rolling in the grass in a tangle of claws and tails.

He’s all fur, no force, the cool voice murmured in Stoneheart’s ear again. An easy foe.

The voice was correct – when Stoneheart slammed his body into the white tom, he felt little in the way of muscle beneath the thick layer of white fur. He tackled the IceClan tom to the ground with ease and snapped his jaws around his ear.

His screech was satisfying, as was the feeling of his ear tearing in Stoneheart’s teeth – but before Stoneheart could dig his claws into his foe’s pelt, another sound rose above the clamor of cats fighting – the scream of a Twoleg.

Immediately, with no regard for their own safety, the IceClan cats tore themselves away from the ShadowClan warriors. Stoneheart sat back, letting the white rogue flee as another scream ripped through the air.

“Run!” Pinewhisker yowled. “Twolegs!”

Stoneheart saw them – a pair of males, and a female – coming out of the front door of the den. The female was shrieking, pointing at the cats with her finger, her eyes wide and her pale head-fur bouncing. The two males, one older and one younger, were advancing on the cats, the older dragging a thick green snake along with him by its silver head.

Wolftooth got to his paws, shaking out his fur. He only just realized what was happening when the older Twoleg male squeezed the snake’s head, sending out a jet of water. The stream struck Wolftooth right in the side, making him leap back and hiss.

“Run!” he snapped. “Run!”

“That’s what I was saying!” Pinewhisker screeched back.

Stoneheart got to his paws, scrambling to follow Pinewhisker and Wolftooth. He felt mist on his back as the Twoleg shot another stream of water just over his head. Putting on speed, Stoneheart raced ahead of the Wolftooth and Pinewhisker, his pelt prickling at the idea of getting sprayed.

The three cats ran back the way they’d come, their pelts brushing as their paws tore at the hard stone beneath them – a sidewalk, Purdy had called it. Only when they had passed four dens, sure that the sounds of the yelling Twolegs were far behind them, did they break away from the sidewalk, seeking shelter beneath the heavy leaves of a bush growing against another Twoleg fence.

Stoneheart gasped for air, his heart pounding in his ears. He flopped onto his side, just trying to catch his breath. “Are... we all... okay?” he asked between deep lungfuls of air.

“I’m fine,” Wolftooth growled, slamming down on his haunches, which were streaming with water. He bent to lick his side. “Those rogues were nothing.”

Pinewhisker groaned. “Speak for yourself,” he breathed, hunching beneath a branch. “You weren’t fighting two of them!”

Stoneheart felt his heart steady, and he pushed himself out of the dirt. He leaned over and sniffed Pinewhisker – his Clanmate was thankfully unharmed, but for a few scratches. Thank StarClan, Stoneheart thought. The last thing we need is to get hurt here.

“I hate Twolegs,” Wolftooth hissed.

“What’s IceClan?” Stoneheart wondered, looking to the older tom. “I thought BloodClan was the only Clan in the Twolegplace?”

Wolftooth scoffed, “So did I – when BloodClan broke up, we splintered off into different groups... but only Jaggedtooth called his group BloodClan. This IceClan might be one of those other groups, trying to fill the void BloodClan left behind.”

“More proof that Twolegplace just isn’t for us,” Pinewhisker muttered. He glanced at Stoneheart, and added, “Not that it was really in consideration.”

“Even if it was,” Stoneheart meowed, “I don’t think Russetstar would want to live here with this IceClan running around. Who knows how big their territory is?”

“I’m starving,” Pinewhisker sighed, “and I’m exhausted. What now?”

Stoneheart poked his head out of the bush, taking in their surroundings. It seemed like the IceClan cats hadn’t come after them, and neither had the Twolegs with their water-snake. But the sky was growing darker, and the monsters were starting to cross the Thunderpath more rapidly now. Stoneheart even spotted some Twolegs walking along the sidewalk near them – for now, they were unaware of the cats hunkered down in the bush.

“I don’t think we can stay here,” Stoneheart meowed quietly, pulling himself back inside. “It’s getting busier out there.”

“Agreed,” Wolftooth stated. “Whenever Twolegs caught BloodClan cats having a spat, that area would be swarming with Twolegs and their traps before long. We need to be gone before they get here.”

“But where can we go?” Pinewhisker wondered, eyes round. “Don’t tell me either of you knows the way back to the forest from here, because I sure don’t!”

“I don’t, either,” Wolftooth admitted.

Stoneheart shrugged. “Don’t look at me!”

Wolftooth grimaced. “Well, let’s try to take care of our food problem, first,” he decided, getting to his paws. He shook out his pelt, and then nudged Pinewhisker up. “C’mon.”

Stoneheart poked his head out of the bush again. Once things were quiet, he gave the others a signal with his tail – Wolftooth grunted as he pulled himself up the fence behind them. Pinewhisker went next, and then Stoneheart pulled back and clambered up, sinking his claws into the wood. It took him a moment to find his balance on the thin slats of fence, but he was trotting after Wolftooth and Pinewhisker within a moment, his tail swinging to keep him steady.

They crossed into the backyard of the den they had taken shelter at, and then, seeing as there was no suitable prey there, continued away from what they presumed was IceClan territory. Stoneheart could just barely see trees above the dens, and he guessed that they were heading towards the Thunderpath that cut through the forest – but it seemed like there were dozens of dens between the three cats and anything that might be familiar.

The sun was beginning to sink, the first stars of Silverpelt speckling the sky, when Wolftooth finally seemed to find a suitable place. He leaped down from the fence into a Twoleg garden, full of dying flowers and spikey bushes. Pinewhisker and Stoneheart followed, landing in the soil without a sound.

“What’s here?” Pinewhisker wondered, his voice low.

“Quiet,” Wolftooth hissed.

There was a loud noise, and all three cats darted into the growing shadows. Stoneheart poked his head out just enough to see a Twoleg emerging from the back of their den, dragging a shiny black lump behind them. The Twoleg didn’t seem to notice the cats as they swung the lump into a nearby scrapcan – they shook out their paws before heading back inside.

“Trash?” Pinewhisker assumed, as Wolftooth pulled himself out of the bush. “You want us to eat trash?”

Wolftooth glanced back at the younger warrior and grunted, “Starve, then.”

Stoneheart swallowed, nervous, as Wolftooth approached the scrapcan. He circled it, tail-tip flicking, and then he stretched upward, pushing at the top with his paws. To Stoneheart’s shock, Wolftooth’s claws were able to dislodge the scrapcan’s cover.

“Help me,” Wolftooth hissed. “I can’t push it alone.”

Pinewhisker and Stoneheart scurried out of the bush, bodies low and eyes wary, crossing the plain, grassy yard to Wolftooth’s side. Pinewhisker pressed himself against the den walls, eyes wide and ears twitching as he listened for any movement – Stoneheart, meanwhile, assisted Wolftooth, getting up on his hind paws and pushing with his Clanmate.

The lid moved aside with a scraping sound that made Stoneheart’s heart leap into his mouth. Wolftooth touched his tail to Stoneheart’s flank, signaling for him to stop when the lid was just slightly off of the can. The smells that came out of the scrapcan were so confusing – a sweet mix of crow-food and fresher smells that were far more enticing.

“The stuff at the top is usually good,” Wolftooth meowed. He leaped onto the rim of the scrapcan, balancing easily. “But trust your gut – if it smells bad, don’t eat it.”

He slipped a paw into the can and, after a moment of rummaging, he let out a mrrow of satisfaction. As if he were a RiverClan cat fishing, Wolftooth dragged a lump of meat from the scrap can. Stoneheart was shocked at how good it smelled, his stomach growling.

“Chicken,” Wolftooth called it, leaping down. He immediately began tucking into his catch, tugging at the browned skin and white meat. “There ought to be more.”

“Oh, I want some of that!” Pinewhisker breathed, his eyes shining eagerly. “Our Twolegs would always get mad when we tried to eat their chickens.”

The smaller tabby tom leaped onto the scrapcan, but he lacked the grace and practice of Wolftooth. The can rocked beneath his weight, and it would have fallen onto Stoneheart if he hadn’t slipped away at the last second. The large container instead fell onto the ground with a loud clatter, sending Pinewhisker, and the trash within, sprawling all over the grass.

Wolftooth looked up from his chicken and sighed. “I just can’t take you anywhere, can I?” he complained, glowering at Pinewhisker as if he were still an apprentice.

Before Pinewhisker could retort, the back door of the Twoleg den began to open. The three ShadowClan cats wasted no time – Wolftooth collected his chicken and took off, Pinewhisker and Stoneheart following. As they were clambering up and over the fence, they heard the Twoleg cursing behind them.

Wolftooth led them into the next yard, sighing as he laid his chicken out between the three of them. Stoneheart swallowed – it looked tasty, but certainly wasn’t enough to fill the patrol completely. Still, Wolftooth pushed it towards them.

“It’ll do for now,” he meowed. “Go on.”

Pinewhisker hesitated, only taking a bite when Stoneheart did. The meat was soft and tender, stringy in a way not unlike a forest bird. It did indeed taste very good, but something about it made Stoneheart only want more – perhaps that was just his empty stomach complaining.

Stoneheart sighed. It was fully dark out now, the stars and moon shining in the blackness above. Somehow, in Twolegplace, it seemed harder to see his warrior ancestors. He recalled the lake, how it had cradled Silverpelt in its reflection so perfectly, and he longed to be there instead of here, struggling in this stone jungle full of Twolegs.

I can’t leave without Rowanclaw, he thought. Pleading, he asked, StarClan... help me find him, please! I feel so... Lost...

The yard they were in now seemed quiet, and longer than the one they had just fled. Stoneheart struggled in the dark to see anything about this nest that was otherwise different than the dozen they’d passed already – he had no idea how Twolegs figured their way around, and he longed for the gnarled trees and sure paths of the forest.

“We need to rest,” Wolftooth decided. “Come on, Stoneheart.”

Stoneheart sighed, and he got to his paws. There was another bush, this one big and filled with leaves – Wolftooth pushed his way through, and Pinewhisker and Stoneheart followed, leaving behind the meager bones of their meal.

The branches beneath this bush grew closer to the ground, making the cats crouch low to find any sort of room for themselves. Still, it was warm, especially when the three warriors huddled together. Stoneheart laid his chin on Pinewhisker’s flank, his tail winding around Wolftooth’s nose.

His body ached, and sleep came easily when he closed his eyes.

[jakkosisle]

The Battle For Lordaeron:  Part I - Battleplans

War horns echoed through Orgrimmar for the umpteenth time, summoning every able-bodied champion, adventurer, hero, mercenary, or miscellaneous within earshot to Grommash Hold.  An ocean away, the Undercity was under attack.  In retaliation for the burning of Teldrassil, a massive Alliance fleet had landed on Lordaeron’s northern shores, deadset on dethroning the Banshee Queen once and for all.  Thus, Sylvanas is calling on every champion of the Horde to rush to the Undercity’s defense, for it is not only her seat of power and a crucial Horde foothold in the Eastern Kingdoms, it is the home to the Forsaken - a pillar of the Horde for years.

The line outside Grommash Hold was long.  Everyone had a different reason for answering the warchief’s call.  Some were genuinely loyal to Sylvanas, seeing her as worthy of the mantle.  Others were loyal to the Forsaken, if not Sylvanas herself - the Forsaken had proven their commitment to the Horde time and time again, so many viewed it as only honorable to return the favor.  And some were just happy to finally have an excuse to do away with all this “greater good” nonsense and just smash some Alliance skulls.

It was in this line that Jakko, Spritzie and Soozee Boomsprocket found themselves standing.  Being champions of the Horde themselves (seems like the word “champion” has a loose definition these days), they too answered the call.

“Still can’t believe this is actually happening.” the goblin-raised troll druid (yeah, it’s a long story) muttered to himself as he looked up and down the line of Horde volunteers, which seemed to extend all the way into the Drag.  “First Teldrassil burns down, now this.”

“You sound surprised that Alliance and Horde are fighting again.” Soozee observed.

“Well yeah, but usually it’s just a glorified slapfight over resources in some box canyon in the middle of nowhere, or somethin’ stupid like that.” Jakko explained.  “But this?  A capital city burns down and another one is under a massive attack?  Shit hasn’t gotten this bad since the Siege of Orgrimmar.”

“Worse, actually.” Soozee replied matter-of-factly.  “After the Siege, the Alliance allowed us to keep our city.  I doubt they’re going to show us that kindness a second time.”

Jakko scoffed.  “Fuck, man.  We didn’t even wait for the Legion’s corpses to get cold before we started going at each other’s throats again.  Then again, I should’ve seen this comin’, with Queen Bitch as our warchief.” Jakko commented.

“Hey!” said a Forsaken in front of the siblings.  “Show a little respect to your warchief, dog!”

“Bite me, deader!” Jakko snarled.  The Forsaken stomped over to the troll, but a tauren stepped in.

“Alright, break it up!” he said.  “Save it for the Alliance.”  With that, tenuous order returned to the line.

“Hey Jakko - if you hate Sylvanas so much, why you even in this line?” Spritzie asked.  “I mean, technically, everyone here is a volunteer.  You don’t really HAVE to rush to Lordaeron’s defense, yanno.”

“I’m not stupid, Spritz.” Jakko replied.  “I know I’ve got a dog in this fight.  If the Horde goes down, we go down.”  He was at the Siege, all those years ago.  He remembered Varian’s promise - that if the Horde failed to uphold honor, the Alliance would end them.  After Teldrassil, he had no doubt that Anduin was planning to make good on his father’s promise.

He smirked at his baby sister.  “Besides, you’re goin’.  And someone’s gotta watch your back.”

A few years ago, Spritzie would’ve smiled at that.  But not this time.  She gave Jakko an oddly neutral look, then turned her eyes back toward the front of the line, barely even acknowledging the troll.  Spritzie had been like this for a while now, ever since the Legion War started.  She’d grown more distant, more prone to running off on her own, rather than faithfully stick by Jakko’s side like she used to.  He wondered if it had something to do with Rikko’s death.  He remembered that it hit her hard.

Slowly but surely, the line would move forward.  Each volunteer champion was quickly assessed for battle readiness before being let through the portal to Undercity.  The three siblings were well-equipped for battle.  Jakko was wearing his usual leather gear, decorated with tiger’s claws and teeth, his two druidic swords strapped to his back.  He sat atop his hippogryph, Stoneheart, who stoically kept its eyes facing forward.

Spritzie was dressed in her tight mail gear (which showed way too much skin in Jakko’s opinion) and was carrying her shotgun that she’d been using since Argus, as well as a small army of beasts, which took up a large portion of the line, much to the chagrin of other Horde champions in the line.  The largest of which was her jade cloud serpent, Spritzie Jr., who she raised herself from an egg during her time in Pandaria.

Finally, Soozee was dressed in her signature “Void Suit”, and armed with a dagger/taser/thingy strapped to her belt as well as her void detector.  She sat in the driver’s seat of a large mech that she had dubbed “The Void Buster.”  Yet another product of her mad experiments with the Void.  Speaking of which…

“You sure you’re gonna need that void detector, Soo?” Jakko asked.  “Don’t see how much good it’ll do in the middle of a battle.”

“If certain rumors are to be believed, then trust me, this detector will DEFINITELY come in handy.” Soozee cryptically replied.

Jakko sighed as the line moved, Grommash Hold getting closer and closer.  He didn’t really know how this day was going to end, but he knew one thing for sure - he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his sisters.

The first thing that Marbelma noticed was the smoke, which hit her nostrils like a steam tank.  Tirisfal’s shoreline defenses fell quickly, and it was easy to see why - the beach was littered with black, smoking craters, as was much of the land further inland.  As the Alliance landing force marched towards Brill, she looked up to Roniaar, her adopted uncle (yeah, it’s a long story), who was riding by her side.

“So, we came here to liberate Lordaeron, yes?” he asked.

“Aye.” Marbelma replied.  A nearby farmhouse, ruined by bombardment, suddenly collapsed into a massive pile of bricks and wood.

“Then why does it look like we’re destroying Lordaeron more than anything?” the draenei asked.

“Lordaeron was destroyed a long time ago.” Marbelma argued.  “It’s a rotten old house that needs to be torn down before we can build something new.”

“Hm.” Roniaar hummed.  Tygoon, the wind drake he rode, huffed as it made its away across the ruined land, anxious from something brewing in the air.  Marbelma’s hippogryph, Cinderwing, ruffled its feathers, scattering embers to the wind, as it got nervous.  All of the mounts knew that battle was drawing near.

They eventually arrived in Brill.  The Forsaken Town was almost entirely bombed out, the landing force having made a command post out of the town’s ruins.  The statue of Sylvanas Windrunner that once stood proudly in the town square was now in pieces all over the ground.  “We move out in twenty!” a worgen commander cried out.  The group split up to make their final, last-minute preparations.  Marbelma and Roniaar spotted a familiar face in the crowd, standing near a table filled with weapons, rations and other supplies, and directed their mounts towards him.

“Hey kids.” the void elf greeted as his two fellow Servitors approached.  He was dressed in purple leather armor, bone-like spikes mounted on his shoulder pads and the lower half of his face obscured by a mask made from shal’dorei silk - a souvenir from his time on the Broken Isles, no doubt.  Strapped to his belt was a pair of evil-looking daggers - straight edged with tips at the end, making the blades effective at both stabbing and chopping.  But what really made the blades unnerving was they constantly exuded a strange, purple mist.

“Tendalel.” Marbelma curtly agreed.  “How did the recon mission go?”

“Not great.” Tendalel said as he spilled out the contents of a sack on the table - the severed head of a night elf.  “I tried to tell him.  I told him ‘Look, buddy, I used to be a blood elf, I used to make business trips to the Undercity every other weekend, so I KNOW FOR A FACT that the Apothecarium is THIS WAY.’  But no, he told me to shut up, called me a void-addled abomination, and then lead the entire team into the Magic Quarter where Horde reinforcements were portaling in by the hundreds, and got himself decapitated by a big angry orc.”

He picked up the severed head and looked into its dead eyes.  “You see what happens?  You see what happens when you don’t listen to your good friend Ten?”

“Wow.  Guess you could say he lost his head in there.” Roniaar quipped.

“Roniaar, a man died.” Marbelma deadpanned.

“Basically, that operation is officially FUBAR.” Tendalel said as he casually tossed the head over his shoulder.  “Undercity is crawling with Horde now.  Sending anymore SI:7 down there would be suicide.”

“Were you at least able to sabotage anything?” Marbelma asked.

The rogue shrugged.  “I smashed a few important-looking bottles on my way out, but that’s about it.”

“So it seems we’ll have to win this fight on the surface, then.” Roniaar concluded.  “Storm the ruins of Capital City.”

“What about the sewers?” Marbelma asked.  “Can’t we get into the Undercity that way?  It’s how Varian got in last time the Alliance was here.”

“No dice.” Tendalel said.  “The Forsaken collapsed the entrance to the sewer tunnel long before we even got here.  It would take days to dig through all that.  Days we don’t have.” he turned and pointed to the Ruins of Lordaeron.  “Everything that’s gonna happen today is gonna happen within THOSE walls.”

The void elf then walked away.  He climbed atop his sable ruin strider, a purple talbuk courtesy of the Argussian Reach.  “Where are you goin’?” Marbelma asked.

“Debriefing and hopefully heading back home - SI:7’s done all it can do for this battle.  Good luck, kids!  You’re gonna need it!” Tendalel called before he snapped the reins and the talbuk trotted forward.

“Take care of yourself, Shadestep.” Marbelma said.  “It’s what you’re good at.”

“I’m VERY good at it, thank you for noticing!” Tendalel replied, choosing to take the insult as a complement as the talbuk disappeared into the crowd.

Marbelma turned her angry gaze to the ruins of Lordaeron City, where the Horde was holed up.  She then looked around and watched as the Alliance constructed siege towers, tuned up the steam tanks, and sharpened their blades.  She heard her shaman companion sigh.  “After Pandaria, I had hoped that Alliance and Horde would never again clash like this.” he opined.

“The peace was never destined to last.” Marbelma opined right back.  “Don’t let your feelings cloud your judgement, Roniaar.”

“My feelings aren’t-“

“Bullshit.” Marbelma cussed.  “I know about your old orc girlfriend.”

Roniaar looked at Marbelma, shocked.  “How did-“

“Rhyliaandra told me a while back.” Marbelma said.

Roniaar grimaced at the dwarf.  “You don’t know the whole story.”

“You and some Shadowmoon shaman start shaggin’ back when you were a Rangari, she disappears one day, and the Horde start their war with the draenei not long after.” Marbelma said.  “I miss anything?”

Roniaar had no response.  He just turned his gaze to the gates to the Undercity.  “Aw, what’s wrong?  Afraid ye might have to fight yer old girlfriend today?” Marbelma taunted.

“She’s gone.” Roniaar darkly replied.  “I’ve looked.  In Kalimdor, in Outland, no one knows what happened to her since those dark days.  She probably died a long time ago.”

Roniaar turned his gaze back on Marbelma and gave her a withering look that surprised her.  All her life, she had known Roniaar as nothing but happy-go-lucky, so the sight of him angry like this was…unnerving.  “Do not mistake my lamentations for hesitation…or weakness.”

With that, he puled the reins on his drake, and the two parted ways for the moment.  Marbelma scoffed.  “Whatever.”  Roniaar’s problem was that he was an idealist - someone who still believed, despite all the atrocities that happened, that peace could still exist between Alliance and Horde.

Daelin Proudmoore said it best.  Peace is like a dream.  Beautiful.  Ephemeral.  Unobtainable.

And eventually, you gotta wake the hell up.

One portal jump later, the Boomsprockets found themselves in the Undercity.  They were immediately hit by the stench of death - not the regular, slightly undeath that was the Undercity’s usual scent, but rather fresh death.  The death of the living.  The floors were stained with freshly-spilled blood.  “They already got into the Undercity?” Jakko asked.

“SI:7 did.” one of the death guards replied.  “The majority of them have already been routed.  Undercity is secure for now, but the bulk of the Alliance forces are still above us.”

“They’ve taken Brill.” another death guard added.  “They’ll be moving on the city soon.”

“Damn…” Jakko breathed.  They were really walking into the heat of battle here.

The Boomsprockets stood in a crowd of Horde volunteers in the magic quarter, champions who answered the Dark Lady’s call, and were separated into different battle groups.  A Forsaken death knight stood before the assembled group.

“Greetings.” he began, his death charger huffing.  “I am Commander Johriah Lawrence.  On behalf of the Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, I thank you all for coming in the Forsaken’s hour of need.  Your bravery today will neither go forgotten or unrewarded.”

He dismounted and motioned for a pair of death guards to bring over a table.  He placed a map on the table, a map of the Ruins of Lordaeron and the surrounding Tirisfal Glades, the Boomsprockets realized as they gathered around for a closer look.

“Alright.” Commander Lawrence began.  “You’ll all be on the first line of defense.  Here, in front of the main gate.  You’ll be meeting the Alliance head-on.” he said, pointing to the spot on the map.  Several Horde soldiers smiled and chuckled at the notion of spilling human blood.  “Should the line fall, you’ll withdraw back into the city.”

“Won’t the Alliance pursue us?” one tauren archer, Highmountain judging by his antlers, asked.

“That’s what the blight’s for.” Lawrence answered.  “We’ll bombard the Alliance lines with blight to cover your retreat.  We won’t have enough gas masks to go around though, so we strongly advise keeping your faces covered once we start blighting the area.”

An agonized scream echoed through the halls of the Undercity.  “What was that?” a nightborne warmage asked.

“Just another SI:7 that got caught, pay no mind to it.” Lawrence casually answered.  “Now, the hope is that the blight alone will deter the Alliance enough to call off their siege, but in the unlikely event they somehow get past the blight, we’re looking at two possibilities.”

He gestured to the entire northern wall.  “First scenario, they try to break through the main gate, seeking the most direct route to the Banshee Queen’s throne.  This would be foolish of them, of course, because the palace gardens is where the bulk of our forces will be gathering.  More likely, they’ll seek to punch a hole in the walls on either side of the gate, entering into either the west or the east sides of the city.  In either case, they would have to pass through here…”

He pointed to a large open space on the south side of the ruins.  “The Southern Courtyard.  Should the Alliance breach our defenses, that will be our first rally point.  That is where we will make our stand.”

“And if we get overwhelmed there?” Spritzie asked, speaking up for the first time since the Boomsprockets arrived.

“Same as the front line - we fall back, blighting the area as we go.” Lawrence answered.  He pointed to the fountain area, just in front of the Lordaereon Palace.  “Second rally point here.”

“And then?” Jakko asked.

“…I don’t know.” Lawrence said.  “All I was told was that we’re to wait there for further orders.”

“Which is code for ‘you’re fucked, good luck.’” Jakko huffed.  This notion generated a few worried murmurs among the other Horde soldiers present.  “This plan is bullshit.”

“Hey.” replied an offended tauren.

“You know what I mean!” Jakko snapped.  “With all these back-up plans, it almost sounds like Sylvanas is EXPECTIN’ us to lose!”

“Fair point.” Lawrence said.  “Change of plans, everyone.  We’re all going to abandon our numerous contingencies and defensible positions and instead charge head-first into the waiting jaws of the invading forces all at once.  Nothing could go wrong.”  The death knight’s roasting earned some chuckles and even a few laughs at Jakko’s expense, which left the druid fuming.

“In all seriousness, I will concede that this battle plan is a risky one.” Lawrence said once the laughter died down.  “Should the line fall, which it hopefully won’t, we would have to blight the area surrounding the city, effectively trapping ourselves.  And if they somehow make it past the blight, which they hopefully won’t, our plan would then be to essentially invite the Alliance into our midst.  A lot can go wrong.  All of that said, we do have one advantage.”

Dramatic pause.  “We are the Horde.” he simply said.  Those words were enough to elicit an eruption of cheers from the unit.  Nodding with satisfaction, Lawrence rolled up the map.  “You all know where the elevators are.  Make for the palace garden and wait for your cues there.  For the Horde.”

“FOR THE HORDE!”

As the crowd of Horde began making for the center ring where the elevators were, they passed several Alliance corpses on the way.  Jakko pulled on Stoneheart’s reigns as he noticed the nature of one of the corpses.  The purple skin and long ears made it obvious that she was a night elf, but what really surprised him was her garb - long robes made of wood and leather.  She was a druid.

A druid much like him.  She was even a feral druid like he was, judging by the daggers still clutched in her hands.

Lawrence trotted up to Jakko’s side and nodded to the corpse.  “Friend of yours?” he asked.  Apparently, he could tell that Jakko was a druid.

“…Maybe.” Jakko replied.  The night elf didn’t really look that familiar, but it was entirely possible that, just a year prior, they were fighting side-by-side against the Legion.

“Well, I hope you don’t have any other night elf friends.  We can’t have you hesitating today.” the death knight said.  “The Burning Legion is defeated and the truce is over.  It’s back to basics.”

“…Guess so” Jakko said as the commander walked off.  He considered the corpse for only a few more seconds before following the rest of the crowd.

He was able to catch up with his two sisters and board the same elevator as them.  They soon emerged into the courtyard of Lordaeron, the harsh sunlight above nearly blinding them after they were underground just a little too long.  The courtyard teemed with activity, crawling with Horde soldiers and mercenaries of every race and creed.

And off to the side, on top of a ledge, Jakko caught a glimpse of them.  The leaders of the Horde.  Saurfang, Bloodhoof, Theron, all surrounding the ‘Warchief’ Sylvanas, most likely discussing where to best place their defenses.

Jakko was skeptical of Sylvanas, to say the least.  He’d been skeptical of her since the Cataclysm, when she first started raising her army of undead.  Why Vol’jin used his dying breath to name HER of all people his successor was still one of the great unsolved mysteries of the Horde.  Something about a vision from the spirits.

It made him wonder if maybe the Drakkari had the right idea - eating their gods and all.

Off on the other side of the courtyard was a mechanical monstrosity.  It vaguely resembled a Horde Demolisher, but was much bigger, much more heavily armored, and seemed to somehow exude power.  Jakko knew that power almost immediately - enough to make him pull his reigns on his hippogryph and stop.  He had been in Silithus long enough to know that power very well.

“Is there azerite in that thing?” Jakko asked.

“Yes.  You can feel the power from here, can’t you?” Johriah asked in turn.  “It’s a prototype - a war machine unlike any that has come before.  And according to the engineers, it’s just a small taste of what we can do with azerite…”

Something on the side of the war machine sparked and exploded, sending the goblins crewing the machine into a tizzy.  One of them tried to put out a blue fire with a fire extinguisher.  “Behold, the future of war.” Jakko deadpanned.

“…Growing pains.” was the only excuse Johriah could offer.  “Are there any engineers among-“

The death knight didn’t even finish his sentence before Soozee hopped out of her mech and stomped over to the war machine.  “You idiots!  You misaligned the internal circuitry!  Haven’t you ever worked on a demolisher before?!”

The goblins all shrugged.  Soozee groaned and immediately started barking orders, which the other goblins took to following.  “Ah, I see she’s on top of things.” Johriah observed.  “The Dark Lady wants the war machine ready for combat within the hour!” he shouted.  Soozee gave him a silent thumbs up before going back to work.

Jakko remembered how Soozee used to be before the Twilight Highlands - how she had once been a tough-talking engineer and leader of a tank crew.  It was rare to catch a glimpse of the old Soozee like this.  Even better, working on the war machine should keep Soozee off the front lines - at least for now.

“Joe!” cried a female voice.  Jakko looked and saw a female Forsaken wearing leather gear and goggles came running over to the death knight.  “I haven’t seen you since Stormheim!  Good to see ya!”

“Ah, Dread-Rider Cullen.  Likewise.” the death knight replied.  “Any updates from the Alliance?”

“Nothing yet.” Cullen replied.  “Outside of the occasional scout, they’re all still in Brill.”

“Curious.  Thought they would’ve made their move by now.”

“That’s the good news - it doesn’t look like they’re ready to begin their siege yet, so we’ve still got time to set up our defenses.”

“And the bad?”

“We spotted more ships landing on the northern shore - hundreds of Alliance soldiers are still funneling in.  When they finally decide to hit us, it’s gonna hurt.”

“So that’s why they haven’t attacked yet.  They’re STILL gathering strength…” Johriah opined.  “Can’t be helped.  At least we still have home field advantage.”

Cullen looked over Lawrence’s group of volunteers.  “I see some of your guys have flying mounts.  We’re about to make a bombing run on Brill - don’t suppose you’d be willing to spare a few flyers?”

“Of course, my lady.” the death knight said with a bow.

“Aw, you’re still a charmer, Joe.” Cullen replied with a raspy chuckle.

“Horde!” Johriah Lawrence barked.  “The good lady is requesting volunteers with flying mounts to join in her bombing run.  Who among you will join her?”

Several Horde volunteers stepped forward, sporting mounts ranging from wyverns to drakes to cloud serpents.

Like the one Spritzie was riding, as she was one of those who volunteered.  “Spritz, what are you doing?” Jakko asked.

“Volunteering for the bombing run.” Spritzie asked.  “Duh.”

“You’re gonna be a target out there!” Jakko hissed.  “You think the Alliance don’t have AA guns?”

“I was gonna be a target today no matter what.” Spritzie replied.  “Come on, Jakko - if I can handle the Burning Legion, I’m pretty sure I can handle a bunch of drunk dwarves.”

Jakko growled in frustration with his sister’s inability to properly calculate the risks.  He stepped forward, volunteering for the bombing run as well.  Someone had to watch Spritzie’s back up there.

“Alrighty, looks like you’re all under MY command now!” Cullen shouted as she whistled for her bat.  “Don’t worry, Joe.  I’ll bring most of them back in one piece.”

Once Cullen hopped aboard her bat, she flew up to one of the higher towers of Lordaeron City, the volunteer bombers flying close behind.  There, combat engineers, again mostly goblins, were attaching bombs to flying mounts, some of them being less than cooperative.  A Forsaken engineer began affixing the bombs to Jakko’s hippogryph, about a half-dozen or so iron balls with pull-pins.  “Alright, to drop the bombs you just pull this-“

“I know how bombs work, pal.” Jakko said.  Having been raised by goblins, Jakko knew explosives far more intimately than most trolls.  “Surprised these are just regular bombs though - ain’t we using blight?”

The engineer scoffed.  “Damn apothecaries are being stingy with the stuff.  Says they need it for one of their ‘contingency plans.’  So you’ll be bombing the Alliance the old fashioned way.”

“Works for me.” Jakko said.  He trusted good old seaforium more than the green stuff any day of the week.

“Alright - once we’re all geared up, we’re gonna make a bombing run over Brill!” Cullen called out.  “The Alliance have been spotted building siege towers, so aim for those!”

Spritzie’s cloud serpent was now laden with bombs, along with Jakko’s hippogryph.  “Okay, everybody ready?  One, two, three, for the Horde!”

“FOR THE HORDE!”

With that, the riders poured out of the tower like a nightmare, making a beeline for Brill.