warforged | your hands protect the flames

Who: The Dragonsworn
What: The first arrival of the Dragonsworn goes a bit...awry.
Where: Scattered around the perimeter of Suramar.
When: Dawn on March 21st
Warnings: Please PM the mods if any warnings are needed

It is almost as if you've woken from a daydream when the ground meets your feet. The stench of fire is overpowering, and though dawn is just approaching in the canopies of Kalimdor, bright flashes of green can be seen between the branches of impossibly tall trees. If that doesn't snap you out of your surprise, then the sound of nearby spitting in demonic tongue may persuade you to get a grip and notice your surroundings -- you are not alone. There are others like you, huddled just a bit too close, with a somewhat familiar face keeping you from advancing further. Looking down at your hands may briefly reveal a momentary flash of color, but nothing lasting more than a few seconds.

The mages of each flight take the helm of their charges, and they are quick to notice any movement from their groups despite channeling some sort of spell to keep you protected. Stray fire will bounce off an invisible shield that ripples when anything make contact with it. There seems to be nothing in sight but your new comrades, and your guardian -- at least not on the ground. The sky has flying demons swarming a pack of dragons -- and the dragons are very clearly losing. Look just a bit farther, and you might find more dragons, though these clearly have different colored scales than the ones above your head.

While distracted, you may hear your guardian speak to you. "There may yet be wounded nearby -- if you care to, bring them here, and we will tend to them from the Sanctum." Briefly, they gesture skyward, toward the dragons flying overhead. "Do not bring to us any that are not our own, lest you invite their demise!"

But the mage is focused on casting -- they are in no position to halt your advance, and they know it. They speak with concern -- concern for you, concern for the dire situation at hand. The demonic cackling is drawing near. The forests are rapidly becoming overrun, and there are already a few dragons slain on the forest floor.

"Take care, Dragonsworn -- I am bringing us to safety, but it will take time. To wander far is to invite your ruin, and we cannot afford the loss of your life."

[OOC: You are free to mingle on this post as you choose, despite the flight groups being scattered through the forests around Suramar -- after this log, you will be separated into your sanctums, and your interactions will be watched much more closely. Attempting to enter the city itself will result in a vicious attack from demons that will kill. The Dragon Mages will be tagging sporadically to heroes of their matching flight, and the conclusion of this log will lead Dragonsworn through portals to their Sanctums.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Uh." She says, staring at him like he'd grown a second head instead of simply moving down to see her. In all honesty, she almost dropped herself down a second after he moved.

Well... well at least it really isn't a demon!

The branch under her protests enough for her to shift to a stand, hugging one arm around the branch above that one for support.

"Its you?" Syllona starts, looking him up and down. Yeah, that's definitely the snow dog man. "How-- What are you doing up here?"

Bariyan would have been very pleased to know that his identity has been reduced to 'snow dog man'. He's thinking about those dogs now, and he lets go of a small, wistful sigh. He misses those dogs. Those were some damn good dogs.

He returns to the matter at hand by gesturing wildly above them. The battle above has the decency to flash green fire too, for dramatic effect.

"Looking at that," he says. "And searching out the wounded. I thought I'd get a better look up here, but... the trees are too thick together. What about you?" A thought occurs to him and he leans out further. "Are you hurt?"

The light show above draws a flinch and duck of her head. Even seeing it with all the foliage in the way its still frustrating she can't get a clear picture, morbid as that curiosity feels.

"Me? No, n-no. I came up here to hide." she says. Her head cocks, and she decides to take a risk, sidling closer to the thick branch jutting out from Bariyan's tree. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna come over there, okay? Don't say we're--" The branch creaks, again, and she misplaces a foot and gasps a small yip of a sound. A beat passes, with better grip on her support. Breathe. Okay, keep moving. "--We're back on the island?"

Upon hearing the gasp, Bariyan scoots out along the branch towards Syllona and leans out towards her -- stretching dangerously far from his own branch, though that doesn't seem to bother him -- extending a hand.

"No," Bariyan says, firmly. "We are most definitely not on the island. This is... a different version of the world I came from."

"Where's that?" She murmurs, eying the offered hand for three solid seconds.

She doesn't take it. Her eyes drop to watch her feet more closely, and she grabs the tip of branch she intended, pausing when the realization strikes that jumping is probably her only choice from this angle...

Bariyan comes to this same realization, so he remains hanging from his branch, hand still outstretched. He wiggles his fingers encouragingly.

"Azeroth," Bariyan says. "But this is not the Azeroth I came from. More demons, it seems. Less-- er-- lack of demons."

He's not sure how else to end that statement. He hasn't seen any of this Azeroth so far, except for dragons and demons and other people just as confused as him.

"Azeroth?!" Syllona's eyes go wide, "Azeroth with blood elves, Azeroth?"

That's a big deal. Even if its an alternate version, her experience with elves has been consistently positive! Not that she has any intention of getting her hopes up just yet, but that's a start. Its something to work with.

A few moments pass, Syllona still thinking that thought through, but she takes hold of his hand. That stupid creaky branch groans for the last time as she pushes off for the new tree.

"That's right! Yes!" Bariyan answers with enthusiasm. He likes blood elves! Well. He likes them in theory. Unfortunately, most of the race doesn't like Bariyan.

Something soars above their heads, shaking the treetops. Bariyan grips Syllona's hand tightly and pulls her up, easily, settling both of them down securely upon his somewhat less creaky branch. He looks up above them and whistles.

"And dragons," Bariyan says.

Swinging over that brief space of free air sends her blood rushing in her ears. It requires a moment of clinging one hand to his and the other in a fist full of leaves. Dragons, trees. One is easier to focus on than the other, apparently.

Syllona lifts her head belatedly, brow scrunching in a queasy way. There's a peak of green -- distinctly not leaf-green, plus whatever it is is fast -- and the distant racket of roaring beyond that.

"Yeah... Hey. I've been thinking. There were blue dragons when I got pulling here, but I saw green ones, red..." she leaves the silence open. There's more to add, of course, just...in a moment that isn't this one.

Bariyan nods, eyes still on the sky, watching for any sign of... anything watching them.

"Blue, green, red, bronze, black," he says, making the moment for more color-naming now. "You must be with the blue dragons, then. I arrived with the red flight."

He finally tears his eyes away from the sky and looks at Syllona with a frown.

"You didn't ask to be sent here, I'm guessing," he says. "The transporter back in Exsilium must have made a mistake... I wonder who else made it here?"

"Transporter?" she starts, turning to Bariyan sharply. "You came from Exsilium, then?"

She takes a deep breath but huffs it out before it can be anything approaching calm. "I didn't."

And that's probably a good thing that she droops, because the small group of demons trekking just beneath them would have been extremely bad to miss. Syllona stifles a stinting squeak by pressing her lips shut and pats quickly at Bariyan's chest -- shoulder, face? Whatever! Up isn't where she's looking just now.

Bariyan nods absent-mindedly in response to Syllona's question, and is about to expand when Syllona's hands pat against Bariyan's face. Bariyan winces and looks down at Syllona in surprise -- then he catches the demons below.

He grabs Syllona by the shoulders to steady her and follows their movements. Unfortunately for them, the little group decides to stop right under their tree -- to where Bariyan had, unthinkingly, left his axe.

Damn! He hadn't expected demons on the ground, not yet! Didn't they have a horde of damn dragons to be fighting overhead?

Bariyan holds his breath and tries to keep both himself and Syllona still. No sound, no movement that might draw their attention away form his weapon and upwards.

your hands protect the flames

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