I’ll be home for Winter Veil
… if only in my dreams.
Deliverance from the pit
What Apprentice Nelphi hadn’t told Ringo Flinthammer was that he wouldn’t be alone at Icecrown Citadel.
In fact, there was a whole army there, camped on Arthas’ doorstep, an uneasy mix of Argent Crusaders and Knights of the Ebon Blade. Together, the entire force was calling itself the Ashen Verdict, but notably, they still wore the colors of the crusade and the knighthood, respectively, and ate and slept in their own camps within a camp. The Horde forces, commanded by Saurfang himself, were nowhere in sight, and the Ashen Verdict looked upon any Alliance soldiers who asked where the Horde were as would-be troublemakers.
Lady Proudmoore’s detail, which entered a side complex opened by Widge Gearloose’s carpet bombing, was small in comparison to the main force of the Ashen Verdict, which had literally bludgeoned down the front door of the citadel, but still, there were more than Ringo would have expected, including some old friends.
Letter from the front
“Dearest Bael,
“I hope you never read this letter. Your Ma is holding onto it in case I never come home from Icecrown Citadel, or come home as something other than your Da.
“I was not much older than you the day the orcs invaded Khaz Modan. War eventually took your Grampus and Nana Flinthammer, at the Battle of Mount Hyjal. Like me, your Grampus and Nana knew what might happen, and went anyway. (Your Uncle Widge can tell you more about that.)
Inside the frozen citadel
“Hunter!” called the young mage on the steps of the bank in Dalaran. “Come close quickly; I must have a word!”
“‘Hunter?'” Ringo Flinthammer said, looking around. “Ye mean me? Is it the bear? He gets gassy when he eats them jellyfish. Just light a candle and it’ll clear right up.”
The mage sighed and continued, ignoring Ringo’s explanation.
“My patron, the Lady Jaina Proudmoore, has uncovered a hole in the defenses of Icecrown Citadel into a place she referred to as ‘The Forge of Souls.'”
“Well, ‘uncovered,'” Ringo said, making air quotes with his fingers. “She sent me wee pal Widge at the citadel with a flying carpet full of seaforium. Not so much ‘uncovered’ as ‘blew a bloody great hole in a solid stone door,’ really.”
“She sent word before she left for me to find any help that I could,” the apprentice soldiered on, looking dubiously down at the dwarf. “And, well, I was hoping that might be you.”
“Out of lovesick gnomes, is she?”
“Please, find her there as soon as she can.”
“Fine, fine. Keep yer tabard on.”