but there never seems to be enough time

[modforged]

Who: Nozdormu, Lanadormi, and the Bronzesworn
What: Successful retreat into the Bronze Sanctum
Where: Bronze Sanctum
When: After a long, grueling battle near the borders of Suramar
Warnings: Please PM the mods if any warnings are needed

[While normally the Bronze Sanctum is lit up for those who reside within it, today there's a gentle breeze that blows softly throughout it. Unusually refreshing for those who may need it while the sands themselves seem to blow away from the injured.

The wounded (dragons and anyone else who may need it) are near ruins where foliage flickers in and out as if it's there, then not there the next second. An illusion or something else? The hourglass nearby seems to tick by slower and slower. Should anyone approach, they just might feel as if every part of their body has slowed down immensely, yet the few designated healers don't seem to be affected in the slightest.

Lanadormi herself seems to be doing everything at once. One second she may be giving instructions and the next she's at the other side of the sanctum tending to another matter. Whatever it is she's doing, it appears the normal law of time doesn't apply to her.

Near the lake is a man who seems disinterested in the current events, focused intently on his reflection in the water instead.]

[ooc: Mingle log for bronzesworn!]

Comments

[mortalforged]

[Lana effortlessly hoofs her way toward the lake, having the form of a tauren. Occasionally, she temporarily phases out of existence in order to help the healers on the other side of the sand dunes.]

[chronoforged]

[ Lifts his gaze to look towards her lazily. ] Have our sssso-called championsss arrived?

[ He's hoping no one else will take note of him. Here he's an "ordinary looking" mortal with brightly lit eyes, nothing more. ]

[mortalforged]

[Lana bows.]

Yes, Timeless One. We have suffered some casualties, but the champions are safe.

[chronoforged]

Everything isss according to plan. [ Supposedly not even the Bronze Dragonflight can "detect" casualties or perhaps they just deal with it. ] Including the injuriesss sssussstained by our own.

[ His gaze is elsewhere momentarily, then it returns. ]

There isss only four? [ Daughter, he's disappointed. ]

[of_the_lake]

[Rather than doing anything helpful, Berserker roamed the area briefly, taking note of it in the same sort of scrutiny that came with assessing the battlefield.

This was, of course, because he didn't trust or feel any reason to sympathize with a single soul around him. He was in the midst of a massive gathering of dragons and demons. As far as he knew, dragons and demons never associated with one another out of pure disinterest. In this place, it was clearly a different set of politics.

In full armor, he regarded Lana from behind his visor, the features of his armor completely visible, save for a few black tendrils which occasionally would obscure him. He only had one question to ask, but that was in the moment. There could be more.]

Creature. I seek answers.

[mortalforged]

[Lana doesn't seem intimidated. She regards the armored Dragonsworn with a calm, warm smile.]

I possess them. How can I help you, hero?

[of_the_lake]

[He was no such thing, but he didn't voice his disagreement.]

A woman with caramel skin, fairy lineage and blond hair. Have you met such a person, here?

[raggedydoc]

So, what do you call that form, anyway?

[Rude? Probably. But the Doctor doesn't exactly concern himself with tact.]

I mean, I've seen a few bipedal bovines before, I was just wondering if it had a proper name.

[Pause. Oh. Right. Maybe he should remember his manners, after all.]

...and if you have a proper name.

[mortalforged]

Tauren, [she answers, smiling placidly.] They do not live alongside the night elves you have seen, but they are among the wisest of the younger races. My appearance is meant to comfort those who look different; there are many races of Azeroth, and many forms of life.

[She bows a little, beads shifting in her hair.]

I am called Lanadormi. What is your name, hero?

[raggedydoc]

Pleased to meet you, Lanadormi, I'm the Doctor.

[A pause. He's still trying to get this whole thing straight in his head, and who better to ask than one of the dragonflight?]

So! All us Dragonsworn have been brought here from our assorted worlds to fight the Burning Legion, save all of time and space, that sort of thing. There are five different dragonflights, everyone's sworn to a different one, and this is the Bronze. Let's start at a nice, easy point: what's that mean, precisely?

[windandrain]

[After she's finished snapping her mouth off to Nozdormu, Saori does eventually leave the shade of her rock and make her way over towards the bovine-shaped female. Its awkward, crossing that much sand in that heat but she manages.]

Your father directed me to you.

[mortalforged]

[The heat will become more bearable if she simply stops thinking about it.]

How may I help you, champion?

[windandrain]

[If it's not that, it's the dryness, or the utter lack of growth, or...quite a few other things.]

Answers, first. And then solutions. First, what do I call you, and are you a dragon as well?

Open to anything

[windandrain]

[To say she didn't want to be here was a bit of an understatement, really. The vast expanse of sand ran against the grain of everything Saori knew and found appealing, to say the least. The dryness of the air and lack of growing things was uncomfortable for someone so used to being tied to rain. Being forcibly separated from the one person she knew in this strange land, though, was truly troubling. To say nothing of suddenly finding her power taken from her and replaced by something entirely different.

Shading her eyes, she looks over the dunes, taking in the activity and the strangeness of it all with a dubious expression. The sudden shifts in time aren't lost on her, though as one of the immortals of her world, that she feels oddly at ease with. An ordinary moment held little meaning anymore, anyway, so she pushed that thought aside, focusing instead on the lake and hourglass before shaking her head.

The situation was just uncomfortable enough that Saori felt less compelled to go out and explore than she normally would. She meanders over to a large rock, taking a seat in the shade it offers and begins to try and sort out her thoughts. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she's all but oblivious to anyone who might be approaching...]

[chronoforged]

[ It was inevitable he would reach out and speak to the younger races, though he suspects the ones who make it into his domain to be anything but young. After all, it takes a certain kind of champion to tolerate the Bronze Sanctum and the strange hiccups of time. ]

It will take sssome getting usssed to. [ An attempt at comforting her is made, though he keeps his distance. ]

[windandrain]

[Saori looks up at whoever...or...whatever it was that spoke to her. The reptilian hiss to it's voice marks it to her, in all likelihood, as a dragon. Probably one of authority, too. She doesn't make a move to get up, though.]

This is not a place I'll ever feel at home. I can't fathom why you'd bring me to a desert, of all places, and tell me that I'll get used to it.

[Her reply is laced with anger, but also confusion. So very little of this makes sense, really. All she really knows is that she feels lost, for the first time in so very long.]

[of_the_lake]

[As far as he knew, there was no mystery to when Berserker was lumbering around. Nobody could possibly ignore or even be deaf to the gigantic man in black plate armor. Every few seconds, his body would flicker and become engulfed in darkness, but it would wear off as quickly as it came into place. He passed Saori without saying a word, refraining from voicing open contempt about the great deal of sand lodged in his armor as well as the heat raining down on him from above.

He scarcely noticed either, really. He was looking around the sanctum to see if he could recognize anyone--or, anything.]

[windandrain]

[She looked up at the hulking behemoth and his mountain of armor. Surely he was mad, to keep wearing all of that in this heat. Seeing his helmet turning, though, when his gaze passes over her she'll give him a dry look.]

So, do you think these dragons intentionally choose the most ill-suited individuals to visit their sanctum?

[raggedydoc]

[Though the Doctor's time-related senses are slightly skewed right now - a natural result of the transition between universes, he suspects - he can still tell that there's something strange with all things timey-wimey here. He crouches down, picking up a handful of sand, and watching it carefully as it falls from his hand, noting how it's blown by the wind.

Then he licks his fingertip, sticks it in the sand, and licks said said off. He makes a face at this - it looks like he's failed to discern any sort of usable information from this entire process.

That done, he stands up again and begins to investigate the interior of the sanctum, inspecting the ruins and feeling the flow of time around them; once he's satisfied there (or at least convinced that he's not going to find anything else out for now), he heads for the lake in the centre of the sanctum.]

[chronoforged]

I wasss unaware your kind feasssted upon the sssandsss.

[ Whether or not he truly knows his kind remains unknown as his lips turn up into an arrogant grin. ]

Tasssty?

[raggedydoc]

Timey. Timey-wimey, even.

[Someday he'll get tired of using that phrase. That day is not today. He just assumes that Nozdormu thinks he's human; it's certainly a common enough mistake.]

Does your kind?

[of_the_lake]

[Seated against a large structure of crystal, a knight in black armor sits motionlessly, so absolutely still that he may as well be empty and there for decoration. He technically was.

Raising his head slowly enough that his movement was nearly imperceptible, Berserker set eyes on the Doctor from behind his visor. He wasn't aiming to be intimidating, but he was of the belief that it would be preferable if no one saw his face.]

[raggedydoc]

[The Doctor's used to people being mysterious and hiding behind suits of armour, so he's not terribly concerned about it. Whenever he ambles over to where Berserker's sitting, he eyes him up and down, raising his eyebrows at the figure.]

Isn't it awfully hot in there?

[windandrain]

[Eventually, Saori does noticed the odd man she'd met out on the battlefield. It's hard not to, when he's poking around in the ruins she's attempting to find shade in. Seating on a stone staircase, her back to a wall, she gives him a cursory nod of greeting. At least he was a familiar face.]

Hello again, Doctor.

[ooc: hope you don't mind a second thread while the other's still up.]

[raggedydoc]

So, you're one of the Bronzesworn, too? Doesn't look like there's many of us.

[Most of the inhabitants of the sanctum seem to be natives of Azeroth, whether in dragon form, or shifted into the shape of one of the other races.]

Makes me wonder why we've been recruited at all, if our numbers are so small.

[Of course, the Doctor knows just as well as anyone that one person can make all the difference, but it still seems strange.]