Flinthammer Hall

The cloud of dust and ice crystals had not yet settled from the cave-in by the time that the Skybreaker was pulling away from Icecrown Citadel and into the stormy skies above the great glacier. There was no sign of Arthas Menethil below them on the mountainside.

“I can barely believe we’re still alive,” Lady Jaina Proudmoore panted to no one in particular, shivering as her sweat was wicked away by the frigid wind. “It was foolish of me to follow him. I’ve made that mistake too many times.”

A grumbling from the surviving troops from her expedition indicated agreement, although not so loudly that anyone could be singled out and written up by Master Nightsong, who would then have the report passed on to Field Marshal Snowfall, the Supreme Commander of Alliance Forces in Northrend. It was unlikely that Snowfall had time for any of the night elf’s officiousness, but no one wanted to take any unnecessary chances.

…

Read More Read More

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.

…

Read More Read More

“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.)

…

Read More Read More

“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.”

“Ringo! Beli! Come quickly!” Widge Gearloose burst into the Silver Covenant Pavilion. “Jaina! She’s given me a mission!”

Beli Flinthammer closed her sketchbook and kicked her husband in the shins, waking him mid-snore.

“What’s that, Widge?” she asked, bundling herself up as she emerged into the frigid air of Icecrown Glacier.

“She’s sending me behind enemy lines!” the gnome gushed as he piled supplies onto a hovering magical carpet. “The very thing to win her favor!”

“Or a suicide mission,” Ringo muttered.

“No, no, not at all!” Widge gushed. “Well, at least, probably not. Anyway, you know how the Argent Crusade has captured those twin val’kyr?”

“Heh,” Ringo chuckled. “Twiiiiiiins!”

His wife slapped him loudly on the back of the head.

“Ow. Baelan or Cohhen would have laughed at that.”

…

Read More Read More