A wasted week and now a wasted journey from one end of the world to another. Why am I doing this?
I could have joined the rebellion weeks ago. When we left for the Hinterlands, when I was on my way to Northrend, at any point during that blasted flight back.
Instead, I’m stuck in Silithus hunting a relic that won’t be used for the betterment of our people, but for another one of Garrosh’s power plays. It’s not like I nearly got myself killed in Northrend trying to stop one of them. Except I did – my new senses are proof enough of that.
Yet barely two days after returning, not only does Sorlain come crawling about Dawnlake (insofar as Sorlain can actually admit his mistakes, which is not much) but we discover that we have in fact failed those whole entire mission. Light knows how many have died in the sands here.
I haven’t felt this angry in weeks. Even when I ssaw the Cho’thaki – heard of Dawnlake and Forestfire’s plans – saw Dawnlake herself – the utter pointlessness of the last two months, when we could have been doing something useful, aiding our kin…
This anger isn’t good. Probably something to do with the explosion. Maybe I should channel it positively.
Yes. That’s a good idea. I’ll go kill silithid.
Mid-afternoon. I still have good time should we be recalled. It won’t be long until we find something else to mess up. With all the plotting, the campaign in Silithus should go to pot any day now.
The Hive is buzzing, more harshly than when I arrived. It’s probably noticed that I’m here. On cue, they’ve started burrowing out of the ground. An aerial one reaches me first, fangs dripping with some form of acid. I tap into the ley lines, feeling the little criss-crossing of magical flow through the sands. Not that I need it. I’m still overflowing with everything I absorbed when the leyline in Northrend went nuclear. Keeping a focus on the leylines, I instead draw upon my own power, stretching it out from my hand and forming a sharp, deformed claw around it. As the hovering pest gets in range, I pull up my hand and cut downwards at the beast, swatting it away. The thing hisses, spewing pheromones everywhere.
As another skitterer charges me I roll out of the way, and pull more mana to myself, firing a large bolt of energy at it before it can move. The thing is thrust into the air before falling into a heap. A miniature swarm is developing around me. Two wasps attempt to bite me simultaneously and I attempt to blow both up with a sudden detonation of the arcane energy swirling about me. It is brutally effective, and I am showered with assorted mucus and carapace fragments. It only makes me more angry.
I jump just as a tunneler bites at me from below, but it dives underground again before I can land a hit. Looking for a new advantage, I teleport ten yards west, surprising my attackers for a moment. As one turns and heads for me, I begin to saturate the air with the magical energy I have built up. It slows, tripping and stumbling as though ensconced in treacle. The quick communication of the silithid is faster than I anticipated, and they follow suit, pushing through the slowing field. Three wasps, able to fly over, reach me first. I ready my claw and spin, attempting to hit all three. The first is torn into pieces, wings fluttering helplessly as I cut them into hundreds of glittering shards. The second is impacted by both the claw and the fragments of silithid taken with it, cut down. The third flies out of reach, seeing the attack coming.
By now, I can feel the ground shaking as more borers approach. I am flung to one side as a thin worm erupts from the sand, but this fortunately just takes me out of range of the wasp, which fires a glob of acid onto the worm’s head. It rears back and screams, blinded, as another one joins it. I dispel the claw and the remnants of silithid drop to the ground harmlessly. Readying another large bolt of arcane, I throw it at the wasp, and it takes off the heads of the worms before meeting another acid spit in a bright explosion. More silithid are advancing.
I change tactic, instead throwing a pillar of fire into the middle of the large group. The noise peaks as several are utterly incinerated, and others push the blackened skins out of the way and chitter fiercely. The explosion and the fire appear to have alerted several prominent reavers, all of which are skittering across the sands to me much faster than the slowed group. I quickly begin filling the air with more magical currents, pulling the energy straight from the ley-lines by now. Just as the reavers pass through I detonate it, and the two survivors are blasted with the sticky remnants of their comrade.
The two reavers make quick work of the distance between I and them, and brutally hit me head on. I black out briefly as I am flung twenty or so yards, brought back by the painful slam of my body against a Silithyst outcropping. I hear several cracks and fall onto the floor, momentarily paralysed by the pain.
Maybe I’ve taken on too much. I push myself up into a kneeling position, feeling suddenly weak, and quickly tear open a portal to the Nether, letting creatures wash out. Being behind it, they don’t notice me, heading towards the two reavers and distracting them. They manage to hold their own against the reavers and the approaching silithid mass, so I take the time to check my wounds.
At least one fractured rib, and a whole lot of backache. I’ll have to get properly checked out when I get back. And it’s too hard to stand up. That could be a problem.
Being a temporary measure, the portal falters out, leaving me in plain view of a last wasp, which spits three blobs of acid at me in short succession. I roll out of the way of one, am hit square in the face by another and somehow flail out of the way of the third.
Ignoring the acid, which is quickly burning through my headgear, I focus on filling the area with the last amounts of power I can summon. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do. I close my eyes as the turban I’m wearing falls into ribbons around me, and focus on building up the field through the leylines. It works, and the entire battle seems to slow before me. I mutter the ritual for detonation.
The field goes dark momentarily, and then is filled with blinding light as the mass of arcane power detonates. Arcane wildfire flies out, puttering out in the evening sky. The sand around the silithid is scorched black, and burning chunks of silithid fly in all directions, landing at my feet. I shield my eyes against the blinding fire, trying to crawl a safe distance away. The fire catches on the remaining arcane creatures and I roll out of the way just before the explosion flings the sand I was laid on high into the air. Large chunks of molten sand and bright-hot remains are thrust forth, and I narrowly dodge them with another roll, but I land rather awkwardly on my arm, and shriek in pain.
Looking back over the battlefield, there is now a large crater in the middle of the hive, bordered with glittering black-purple glass formed from the explosive pressure on the sand and the silithid remains. The hive has fallen quiet, and I push upwards onto my feet, hobbling back to Cenarion Hold before any more reach the surface.
That helped, I suppose. I’m pretty spent. I hope we’ll leave soon. With Dawnlake becoming more demonic by the day, it’s only so long until something goes wrong – and I’d prefer that we not be in the most desolate part of this hostile corner of the world.