The Elf soared lightly in the night sky, it was surreal to him to see Quel’thalas as it had been for most of his life, even more surreal to think the Bronze Dragonflight would have granted him this chance, this chance….
To Put Things Right.
No Scar marred it, it teemed with life, small hamlets and enclaves filled with people, he knew, all too soon, most of those people would be wailing, and fleeing as refugees…
Those that survived…
He could put it right, for just such a small price, in the scale of the misery that would ensue. Quel’thalas would remain strong, he would never lose his younger sister, Kayrissa, to becoming Wretched, he would never have lost Raycheyall, and the child in her belly, Durovante, when the Exile happened, for there would be No Exile… No Exile meant they would not have lived in Theramore, when a mad tyrant destroyed it all in an arcane blue haze, He just had to weigh it up, you see…Sparkles of light trailed Sunspear’s wings…he should, the Gold Dragonflight having sent them both back… He should…not be here any more than Brigante should, Whilst Brigante had flown in these fateful days, it had been Sunspear’s Grandsire he had flown, Time plays tricks on us all…
A Strong Quel’thalas, meant that the Alliance, and its friendly powers would stymie Arthas’s madness that was reported from Lordaeron, Kil’jaeden would have never had his foothold, there would have been no frozen madness of slaying and bludgeoning, the blood on the snow in Northrend… The Price was really so, so very small, in the greater scheme of things.
Just one Death, and the last decades of horror for the entire world could all go away…
He looked below him, as Sunspear silently banked, it was HIM. It was undoubtedly Him…Everyone knew his face…
The song, a bitter one, rattled in his ears as Sunspear angled over the path where the Hawkstrider rode, two bodyguards also mounted….A bitter pill. Three deaths then, three, balanced against all others, could he do that? Murder and know it was for the Good?
He crooned to himself as they trailed the procession as they headed south….
“Deatholm City is by the Elf-gate,
Blow the Bugle, draw the sword,
For the Traitor showed his face behind the Wall,
Wall, wall, wall wall,
Walls of Deatholm City, Walls of Deathholm City, in the dark….
The people started cheering, as the Enemy we were nearing,”
“Deatholm City’s a blasted place,
Blow the bugle, draw the sword,
But they’d made a grand mistake, when they’d sent us against the…
Walls, walls, walls walls,
Walls of Deatholm city, Walls of Deatholm City, in the Dark,
,We were shot down, in our Masses,
By the Gargoyle troops of Arthas
Across the Walls of Deatholm city, in the dark…”
“Deatholm City is Sun and Dust,
Blow the bugle, draw the sword,
I’d sooner have been shot down first,
Rather crash behind the Walls, Walls, Walls Walls
Walls of Deatholm City, Walls of Deatholm city, in the Dark
Keep your Officers beside you, and they will surely guide you,
Across the Walls of Deatholm City, in the Dark…”
“Deatholm City was a trap,
Blow the Bugle, draw the sword,
They shot us down in waves,
And they fell behind the Walls, Walls, Walls, Walls,
Walls of Deatholm City, Walls of Deatholm City, in the Dark.
Sun Help them as not had fled!
They were raised to join the Undead!
Across the Walls of Deatholm CIty, in the Dark…
“Turn your Hawk from Deathholm’s towns,
Blue the Bugle, draw the sword,
Nine tenths of us are down,
And they fell behind the Walls, Walls, Walls, Walls,
Walls of Deatholm City, Walls of Deatholm City in the Dark.
The People cheered to see us Flying!
Never knew we’d all be Dying!
Across the Walls of Deatholm City, in the Dark….”
He looked down, it was almost a litany, Five Hundred Dragonhawk riders had flown against that first incursion, because of the traitor… The survivors numbered a tenth. Fifteen years later, almost half of them had taken their own lives out of alienation, rage and guilt. To this day, those Blood Elves who were still alive, were still fighting the Scourge War…
Just one Death…Just three….
Sunspear glided down silently, Brigante was not jubilant, did not make noise, Sunspear did not beat his wings, He wondered, at that moment when Dar’khan Drathir turned his head in time for Dragonhawk flame to reduce him to a greasy spot of pitch, whether the Treachery had been in his mind at that point, or had that come later.
He knew one thing….
There would be no Lament of “Walls of Deatholm City”, not now that its cause was a guttering fire behind him…No Invasion by Arthas, without a traitor to open the way….
Surely now, it was possible, for Peace in Our Time, The Sin’dorei wheeled his Dragonhawk into the skies, he was not afraid of being recognised, he was wearing red and gold, and no one wore that….
Yet.
And perhaps never would…
So the question is…A Follow on from that…
The Bronze Dragonflight give your character the ability to travel -Forwards- in Time. What change would you try to effect?