Halvor and Meechi were occupied with bartering with the local merchants. Grummles, they were called, and they were small peculiar folk with large beards and small hats lined with fur that covered their eyes. Their trading station was set up near the outskirts of the city, and they dealt with goods that may or may not have been legally obtained.

​

"Eh, hello friend," began the vrykul, "what do you have for trade?" He looked down at the grummle, who barely reached his knee in height.

​

"I have many, many luckydos! You like?" Halvor was not sure what a "luckydo" was, but he glanced at the array of clothing hung from the rack behind the merchant. "You have something for fighting, perhaps?"

​

The grummle stroked his chin in thought and pulled out a tightly woven brown vest. "I have this! Great deal for a friend, yes!" The warrior eyed the piece of clothing and looked over his shoulder at Meechi, who was still bargaining with with another grummle who appeared to specialize in alchemy. 

​

"Hey, friend fox!" Halvor called out, "There is vest is too small for me, but good for you, I think."

​

"I'll be there in a minute!" The vulpera wrinkled her nose as she sniffed at a bright orange liquid sealed in a vial. "You sure this potion's okay?"

​

"Ohoho yes! It is a special potion, yes! Nothing but the best potions!"

​

Meechi handed the vial back to the merchant and rummaged through her bag. "Very well," she replied, "I offer you one enchanted necklace from the treasures of the Eastern Kingdoms." She held up a red and green pendant that hung from a golden chain and dangled it at the grummle. The necklace itself wasn't of much value, but if the pirate could convince the merchant it was, that was all that mattered. 

​

"Deal!" the grummle exclaimed, and eagerly took the pendant from Meechi. The alchemist pocketed her new potion and skipped back to Halvor, satisfied.

​

* * * * *

​

“You will find the Black Prinsss in the large tent near the merchantsss. Tell him Ssslissk sssent you.”

 

Mori spotted the tent and ran up to its entrance. She parted the dark green cloth slightly and peeked inside. Her eyes sparkled as she found a young man with dark skin and darker hair seated on an ornate velvet couch. He had one leg crossed over the other as he rested his elbows on the arms of the piece of furniture. His head, wrapped in a beige turban that matched his garments, was cocked to one side in thought.

 

It’s him! Mori thought excitedly as she ran up to him. The young man raised an eyebrow at the young blood elf, who stood before him, grinning.

 

“Hi Wrathion!” Mori waved cheerfully. The one before her blinked in surprise.

 

“How do you know my name, child?”

 

“Everyone knows about the Black Prince!” she exclaimed in response, “My mama is a red and black dragon, so she told me about you and all the others in the black flight!” Mori puffed up with pride as she stood as tall as she could. Long had she wanted to meet a black dragon, and she had finally been gifted the chance.

 

Wrathion frowned in return. “Children these days,” he spoke, almost to himself, “they think they know everything.” Mori pouted, the dragon’s reaction not being even a slight fraction of the positive response she had hoped to receive.

 

“You came here with others, child?” Mori nodded, glancing at the entrance of the tent where Sahtra had appeared and was making his way towards her.

 

“I am expecting more of you,” the Black Prince continued, “Sslisk sent you, correct?” He could not resist adding, “What an absurd name!” and quietly chuckled to himself.

 

“Yes, he told us you would be here,” Mori replied, “but I’m not interested in the mission or the titan artifact,” she leaned in towards the young man intently, “I came here so I could meet you!” Her green eyes sparkled as the blood elf almost stared at him, entranced. “I think all dragons are cool, and you are, too!”

 

Wrathion sat up straight and eyed the child with wonder. “Now that is a strange thing to hear one say to me,” he spoke, “it is rare to find a ‘fan’ of sorts, given my…history…”

 

The death knight spoke for the first time since entering the tent.

 

“I can relate, dragon,” Sahtra enunciated his words bitterly, “there are many whose prejudice,” he turned his head briefly towards the voices of Meechi and Halvor, who were still bargaining with the merchants outside, “leads them to deem me a foul creature despite my lack of wrongdoing.” His bright blue eyes glowed furiously.

 

“Ah, death knight,” Wrathion looked him over and nodded, “I understand your plight completely.” He looked back and forth between the human and the blood elf and observed that the latter was holding onto the former’s cloak tightly. He looked up at the death knight. “You’re the child’s caretaker, I presume?”

 

Sahtra looked down at Mori, whose cheeks had deeply reddened, but she still held on. The gesture had become a sign of trust from the young blood elf, and perhaps even one of dependence. “Hmmph,” the death knight smirked, but otherwise stayed silent.

 

The Black Prince chuckled heartily and continued. “Many would believe it impossible for a black dragon such as myself not to be wreaking havoc on Azeroth just as they would react to a death knight harboring protective feelings for a child,” he paused, his expression turning somber, “but I am here to show them that they are wrong. My mission is to undo, or at least attempt to fix, the wrongs and evils caused by my father and other corrupt members of the black flight. I have cast them aside!”

 

Sahtra did not respond, but his attentive silence was not disrespectful. Wrathion stood up as he observed the vrykul and the vulpera enter the tent. He turned back to the death knight and whispered, “you and I both did not choose to be this way, yet here we are facing the consequences.” The human nodded, deciding to neglect mentioning the fact that he had chosen death knighthood, though not its assumed predispositions, and the Black Prince subsequently turned his attention to the newcomers.

 

“Welcome, travelers,” the young man raised his arms as if welcoming old friends rather than complete strangers, “I take it you are the last of the folk Sslisk has sent? I have quite the important mission for you!”

 

Meechi scurried up to Wrathion. “Yeah,” she responded, “but I have a question for you first! How come you’re not doing this mission yourself? You’re a dragon! Why do you need us?” She stood firmly, arms crossed.

 

The young man briefly glared at her then burst into laughter, too amused to be genuine. “What a silly question!” Wrathion exclaimed, “I’m only two and a half years old! A mere whelp!” He sat back down in his couch and added with a smirk, “I can’t possibly do everything on my own.”

 

Halvor suspected that the Black Prince was hiding something and frowned.

 

“Ok, dragon,” the large vrykul spoke, avoiding the use of the term “friend” as he did to those whom he deemed allies, “there is catch, yes? What is it?”

 

Wrathion avoided answering the question directly and instead stood back up, stepping around the vrykul theatrically. “You are exploring unknown territory,” he gestured towards an invisible landscape with a large sweep of his arm, “with riches and mysteries beyond your mortal imagining. Is that not enticing to you?”

 

“No, not exact—”

 

“Perfect! The cavern of anomal—I mean interest is about an hour’s walk to the southeast of here. Somewhere in it, you will find that insane pirate and a large titan artifact of immense value. Bring me the artifact and do whatever you wish with the captain, I could not care less.” The Black Prince held out what appeared to be a rectangular goblin construct with a red button. “Contact me via this device should you need any…remote assistance.”

 

Mori took the communication device from Wrathion’s hand and placed it in the pocket of her robe. The dragon whirled away and sat back down in his chair, motioning for the others to leave. He had more important matters to tend to, alone.

 

* * * * *

 

“Look, over there!”

 

Mori pointed a small finger in the direction of a golden lump in the distance. As the travelers approached it more closely, the shape revealed itself to be that of the corpse of a fallen dragon. The young blood elf ran up to it and winced as she saw the lethal wound that had led to the whelp’s demise. Several bullets lay lodged in its heart. Mori spared a moment to grieve for the loss of life, especially that of a dragon, at such an early age.

 

“It was a young bronze dragon,” she told the others upon returning to Sahtra’s side, “the timekeepers were guarding this place.”

 

Halvor frowned. “And what should time dragon want with small cave?”

 

It is obvious, the death knight thought to himself, this is no ordinary cave. It now became painfully clear why Wrathion himself had no desire to participate in this mission. What the Black Prince hid from the travelers was that he himself was neither sure of what the cave held in store nor whether they would make it out alive, much less in the correct timeline, once they went in.

 

* * * * *

 

“This is a strange cavern,” Meechi spoke quietly. Sslisk had stayed behind as he had promised he would, and she felt alone despite the physical presence of her traveling companions. The alchemist could not begin to imagine what her former captain could be doing to cause trouble. A titan artifact, even? She did not think Moldmane would plan more than to pawn off such a powerful object for a great sum.

 

From the outside, the cavern did not appear larger than the tent in which the travelers had met Wrathion, but Sahtra was sure they had gone in at least three times its length in depth based on the amount of time they had been walking. Even the musky smell characteristic of most enclosures had faded away at this point. The group had walked for several more minutes in silence when an ethereal being manifested itself in front of them, and the death knight felt a sudden tug on his cloak as Mori jumped in response.

 

Halvor squinted at the apparition. “Who are you?”

 

“I am Xavvoth the Wanderer,” the ethereal replied. His deep voice rumbled with an echo further accented by the acoustics of the cave, but there was no mouth or face from which it came. Instead, layers of thin bandages were wrapped around his figure to form some semblance of skin, and they were slightly parted where one would expect his eyes to be.

 

“I mean you no harm,” the being continued, “in fact, I am most grateful that you have crossed paths with me. Perhaps you may be able to help.”

 

“Help?” The vrykul looked towards Meechi then back to the ethereal as he raised an eyebrow. “Help with what?”

 

“My duty as the Wanderer,” Xavvoth replied, “is to traverse the Twisting Nether and investigate spatial and temporal anomalies. Not long ago, when I was exploring these caverns, I noticed a group of Azerothian buccaneers enter through there carrying a strange device.” The apparition motioned behind him at a distant glow. “By the time I made it to the entrance, I had lost sight of them, but fortunately one of them ran back, seeking a means of stopping the others. I sent him to ask for help from Wrathion himself.”

 

Meechi nodded in comprehension, realizing the one who had broken off must have been Sslisk. “Yes, we are here to help investigate,” she spoke up, “those intruders are members of my crew--” She bit her lip before correcting herself, "my former crew.”

 

The ethereal turned his attention to the vulpera. “Then, perhaps you are best suited to tracking them down and ensuring that they do not endanger the safety of Azeroth.”

 

“How many of them are there?” the alchemist inquired.

 

“No more than four, if I recall correctly.” Meechi nodded in acknowledgment. It had likely been a secret mission, then. The captain usually led at least ten to fifteen Stray Dogs when looting or raiding a town.

 

“Then we must go! We need to find them as soon as we can!” Meechi darted off and had gotten several yards closer to the glowing rift before stopping short at the subsequent warning the ethereal being issued.

 

“A word of caution, young one,” Xavvoth spoke, “keep in mind that the world you will enter is but one of many alternate worlds. The Azeroth within these caverns changes without warning, and you would do well to make sure you are back in the current world when you notice the instability taking hold.”

 

“Understood.” Meechi stepped across the rift, her traveling companions following her in. A flash of blinding light, and the group found themselves at the foot of stone steps in a dark room.