Thunder roared in the distance as the group of heroic herbalists stood atop the Defiler’s Reach in the Blasted Lands. The gloomy sky above seemed to be in perpetual movement. Remains of petrified victims from wars of the past were spread across the cursed plateau with the horror still etched in their faces. The wind howled and seemed to carry an eerie electricity as if change was on the rise. The assembled group had their combined focus towards the dwarf standing in the center of the dark rune that was carved in the bedrock. Helgi had assumed his stoneform, a gift that most dwarves had inherited from their earthen ancestors, and stood in silent concentration carefully holding a single specimen of golden clover with mysteriously pristine leaves.
The beams of shadow jade covered his body, all cast from the handheld focus lenses that the party quite recently had acquired in the Jade Forest. With every focused beam the doubt of their endeavour diminished. Fate had made the Four Winds carry them over the Great Sea to perform this very ritual at this very moment. It was time. Dulvarinn relaxed his composure slightly, closed his eyes in concentration and heard Mortend, quietly whispering meditatively to himself: ‘We can do this, we can do this, we…’
Suddenly, the ground beneath them shook in a cracking sound for a moment. Then only the wind was heard once again. Helgi seemed uninterrupted, but the others exchanged uncertain glances. Anna turned nervously towards Dulvarinn who narrowed his eyes while listening. Anna exhaled slowly and was about to say something, but suddenly the crust beneath them wracked open forcing the group to jump for their lives. With a loud shriek a large male gryphon appeared with violent frenzy, raging red eyes and a body made out of pale, smooth stone. It roared to the sky and glared at the dwarf who in contrast to the rest of the party had remained rock steady in his position. Dulvarinn, who had gotten quickly on his feet reached for his staff, but could not prevent the gryphon from striking.
– ‘Alabaster!’, shouted Helgi with a decisive voice. The gryphon halted immediately and peered at the dwarf as if being petrified a second time. The dwarf stretched his arm and presented the clover which now emitted a faint golden-glowing dust that calmly breezed towards the mercurial creature.
– ‘Alabaster,’ he repeated: ‘You were petrified and buried with the curse of alabaster by Razelikh the Defiler. But no more! Now you are once again Stormtalon of Aerie Peak. Now you are free!’
The gryphon blinked a few times as the dust reached its nostrils and the red eye hue slowly transformed into an amber glow. The rest of the party had gotten on their feet and watched the dwarf and alabaster gryphon with utter awe. Slowly it bowed in respect towards Helgi who solemnly replied with the same courtesy. Then, almost as if expressing a well-rehearsed dance, he walked to the gryphon and climbed its back. Stormtalon made a synchronized stretch, took a few sudden steps forward to spread his wings and jumped off the ridge. The two quickly gained altitude.
– ‘Wohoo! For Helgi!’, shouted Mortend with utter excitement and kept cheering as the gryphon and it’s rider hastily circled around the ridge and continued towards the sky.
Dulvarinn smiled. He knew that the identity of the gryphon was still classified by the Council of Three Hammers and that the official story would have to be that it was magically chiseled by the stonemasons of Stormwind or likewise.
– ‘For Stormtalon!’, cheered Anna and clapped her hands. Before long the rest of the party found themselves cheering as their gazes happily followed Helgi and Stormtalon into the horizon.
– ‘For fellowship,’ whispered Dulvarinn so quietly that only Anna turned to give him an acknowledging look: ‘For fellowship.’
, but will do my utmost.
