L'Ombra della Vendetta (The Shadow of Vengeance)

L'Ombra della Vendetta is a fanfiction about World of Warcraft.
Don't feel discouraged from its length, the story seems huge but is actually pretty short. I hope you'll give it a try.

This is a work of fantasy. The entire world where it takes place is owned by Blizzard Entertainment.
This story and its main characters are products of the author’s twisted imagination.

Its content may be not suitable for sensitive people, because it contains acts of violence even towards defenseless people.


16. Chapter 16

The next morning, outside the inn, news awaited them. Near the fountain in the square, a huge bronze Proto-Drake awaited the Loremaster's leave. Approaching, Lithos noticed immediately the blue bag the drake was wearing around his neck. In addition to being decorated by the Eye of Dalaran, white, the little bag was closed by an orange ribbon.

"Apparently there are news from Archmage Modera" said the night elf to the comrades "They don't seem to be good news."

Sighing, he opened the bag, extracting purple powder with his hand. Once thrown on the ground, the dust began to pull itself together, and surprising the druid, a little arcane elemental appeared and immediately turned to the mage.

"Loremaster, I bear bad news." began the creature "Somehow the Sunreaver's spies must have discovered something about the issue, they're looking for a female gnome rogue. The Archmage seems to have sent to the Undercity a handful of his trusted ones with the intent to anticipate your moves. I suggest to pay attention."

"Thanks, little familiar."

The elemental then vanished with a little bow.

"What happened to him?" asked the curious druid. "He returned to its origins, pure raw magic. The Archmage Modera has probably already absorbed its essence, by now."

"What a sad thing" said the druid with a blank stare "To live only to serve."

"I thought so too" commented the mage approaching the Proto-Drake "Then I had the opportunity to have a long chat with some familiars. Would you believe that they are happy to live like that? It seems that having a mission make them less... Bored."

"It must be a pretty boring life actually" agreed the night elf "Being raw magic does not allow many amusements, or free will."

The paladin looked on them appalled, holding a palm over his face.

"Okay, whatever, before there was one who spoke about absurd things, and now they have multiplied." he ironically declared "I thought you wanted to go to Hillsbrad, which is the closest portal?"

"Ironforge" answered the mage, petting the muzzle of the creature that was waiting quiet near the fountain, in the curiosity of a group of children present "But I think we could use a faster method to arrive."

"Do you mean... him?" sighed the paladin "Didn't you tell me the last time you used him you found yourself in the middle of the ocean?"

"He was more difficult to control. Now I can do it pretty well when it comes to long distances, and can be very useful in this occasion. Modera had a good idea to send him here."

The Druid, patting the animal's muzzle, candidly asked to the two "What's his name?"

"I don't know" was the response of the white haired mage "He can't speak. It did not seem right to be me to give him a name."

Surrending before the tranquility with which the two night elves agreed to travel to the back of a bronze Proto-Drake, the paladin sighed again and climbed astride the beast.

"Go up you too, Pat" the mage said gently, "I'll have to apply some protective spells so that you remain firm while you ride."

His hands became bright, while they touched the points where the two traveling comrades were clinging.

"Tell me again" said the paladin, waiting for one of the usual strange answers "What happens if we lose the grip?"

The mage, knowing the intentions of the question, chuckled.

"Nothing complicated. Simply, you may end up lost wherever in the interweaving of spacetime. Comforting, is it not?"

"Extremely" confirmed ironic the silver-armored draenei, taking firmer grip.

Going to turn on the dragon, Lithos uttered a few words in the ancient language of the night elves. The drake seemed to understand the meaning, so he started to raise in flight and, reached a considerable height, made a step forward and disappeared into a giant spark, leaving a cloud of gold dust in the Stormwind's skies.

Once the dust had thin out, of the dragon and his three riders, there was no sign.

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