(65) - Brothers In Arms

Griffonclaw was almost in tears about the state of Brann's beautiful aircraft.

The flying machine of Brann Bronzebeard was smoking like a chimney badly in need of cleaning; Griffonclaw had helped the fabled explorer and hero assemble the Norgannon Shell and the Norgannon Core, and upon its completion the two of them had flown out of the depths of the Engine of the Makers, the massive tunnel in the middle of the Foot Steppes. Griffonclaw had needed to hold onto the fusilage and ride the wing, the words to the prayer to invoke the Light's Divine Shield on his lips the whole time. Scores of Stormforged Soldiers shot at them as they circled in slow ascent, the engines on both wings straining from Griffonclaw's additional weight, and Griffonclaw had been tempted to leap for the escarpments to give Brann a better chance at escape.

When the first Stormforged Soldier landed on the aircraft's wing opposite Griffonclaw, the paladin had given up that plan, and had carefully engaged the enemy before he could damage either aircraft or pilot. All told, Griffonclaw would boot, slam, or slice five ambitious enemy soldiers to their death below while bullets buzzed like angry bees past the paladin. Many of them passed through the aircraft fusilage, and some found the engines; both were smoking by the time they'd cleared the rim of the Engine of the Makers.

As the last Stormforged minion fell to his death, Griffonclaw heard Brann shout "We're coming up on Frosthold. I would be very appreciative if you would introduce me to King Stormeheart before you go. I believe we are both very much in his debt." Griffonclaw was indeed in the debt of the King of the Frostborn; it was he who had suggested that Griffonclaw follow Brann's path, and set all of this in motion.

Although the monarch of the Frostborn, all of whom had ice-blue skin, Yorg was not actually of the Frostborn; during Griffonclaw's test to see if he was worthy of becoming an honorary warrior of the Frostborn, Velog Icebellow, his proctor for the ritual test, and told Griffonclaw that he had been discovered by a band of Frostborn years ago. Shortly after they'd found him, one of the ice worms, a giant jormungar, and burst from the snow and consumed one the Frostborn before they'd even realized they were under attack. The found dwarf had grown in size, his skin taking on a stone-like texture hue, and his hands sizzled with lightning. The dwarf who would become Yorg smashed the beast's head almost clean off its body. Velog's father had named him Yorg, a name reserved for heroes of the Frostborn; Velog's father considered that in saving them thusly, he had earned the title. Yorg took over the war-training of the Frostborn, and the destruction of the giant jormungar at his hands became an example of how height matters little, and that stout arm and courageous heart can destroy dragons, at need.

Brann was himself the youngest of the Bronzebeard brothers, and had developed a wandering foot early in life, founding the Explorers' League. Griffonclaw had read his books and travel commentaries, amazed at the fellow's abilities to speak almost any language, and make friends with the oddest people. When Griffonclaw had been an aspirant in the Order of the Silver Hand, he had spent some time "apprenticing" in the Halls of Mystery and the Great Forge, and at night he'd heard stories of daring and adventure about King Magni's youngest brother. Griffonclaw had been thrilled to be able to - however slightly - help one of his childhood heroes with one of his adventures, and King Yorg's support and assistance had been integral to their success.

Brann had no sooner landed his aircraft than the poor abused engines burst into flame, catching the wings on fire. Brann watched its destruction with equanimity, merely muttering that his next craft would have some additional shielding around the engines.

Together, Griffonclaw led Brann up the icy walk to the King of the Frostborne. Before Griffonclaw could make introductions, Brann paused and looked the king over. "By all the gods..." the explorer mumbled, "...it can't be... Muradin?"

"What's that? You talkin' to me, lad?" Yorg replied.

"Come on boy, there's no mistak'n it - it's definately you" Brann challenged. "Don't ya recognize your younger brother?"

"My brother..." Stormheart muttered. "Yes... I do have brothers..." The king clutched his head and reeled for a short moment, as the memories rush back to him. Recovering, he said "...Brann?"

For almost the first time in his life, Griffonclaw was near speechless. The wandering amnesiac had been Muradin Bronzebeard, the warrior who had befriended a young Arthas Menethil, and taught him the passage of arms? The same one who Arthas had struck down after claiming - or being claimed by - the runeblade Frostmourne?

"I can't believe this! You were dead! All accounts said so... what happened, Muradin. How did you get here?" questioned Brann of his long-lost brother.

"I... I dunno, Brann. I've been 'ere a long time... all I 'ave of me life before this place are flashes and nightmares," York answered. "It's good te see you though, brother. More than words can say."

"Indeed! Magni will be so happy to see you too! He's gotten nothing but bad news for a long time now, but this changes everything!" Brann spoke, his enthusiasm making his words, with his thick Ironforge accent, almost unrecognizable. "Brann Bronzebeard says: He's here in Northrend, brother, looking for you. A seer in Wintergarde brought word that you were not dead, and he left Ironforge immediately to come find you."

All of a sudden, they heard a familiar voice shouting from the area below the ice ledge. "Look, Lagnus, I consider you a capable man, but my patience is wearing thin. I know that Muradin is here, can you point me to him or not?"

Brann chuckled. "Speaking of which..."

Griffonclaw leaped down, and led his sworn monarch up to the ice ledge. The current occupant of the Iron Throne, Magni Bronzebeard, had granted a hapless, despondant, disgraced Griffonclaw a place in the Hall of Mystery and his personal service, in the dark days before the return of Tirion and the Silver Hand. Griffonclaw had long served Magni as a "privy agent", doing the dirty work while giving Magni clear deniability of Griffonclaw's activities. Magni's eyes blazed like hot coals in surprise and amusement when Griffonclaw knelt before him, and bid his servant rise. "I should have known I'd find you somewhere here, paladin..." Magni chuckled.

"I range wide in your service, your magesty," griffonclaw mumbled, his eyes still downcast. Since entering Magni's service, Griffonclaw and his king had classed wills on any number of occasions; a pardon and citizenship for a Dark Iron deserter who had since grown to be as family to the paladin, the legal juristidiction of the gnome refugees from Gnomeregan, the preparation - and Griffonclaw's joint service to Lady Jaina Proudmoore - for the Tirion's crusade to Northrend... but at the end of the day, when his leige commanded, Griffonclaw obeyed, taking the dirty assignments as commanded; spying, rescue operations, and even assassination. Griffonclaw was, every tallard inch of him, a King's Man.

When Griffonclaw brought him to where Brann and Yorg stood, Magni was amazed. "Brother! There you are! I can barely believe my eyes... you're alive!"

"Magn!" Yorg exclaimed. "Forgive me, the memories are comin' back slowly, brother."

Magni's grin was so wide Griffonclaw could see it beneath his King's beard. "It's so good to see you again, Muradin. And what's this I heard about you being a King in your own right now? The Bronzebeards were always destined to greatness!"

"The Fostborn have been very good to me. They're strong people" Yorg announced proudly.

"So it seems! And you haven't lost any muscle yourself. Do you remember anything of what happened, Muradin? Fate as turned ill in your absence," asked Magni.

"Not much, Magni. I've had nightmares of a human... tall... light hair... death black armor. His name rests on the tip of me tongue, but..." The monarch of the frozen north paused, and continued in a low voice. " ...Arthas."

Magni nodded. "He's not the boy of your memories anymore, Muradin. He's become something else entirely."

"Aye, I know. I watched him turn..." Yorg answered, sadly. "I watched him give up all that was right and I didn't lift a hand... I didn't even consider it until it was too late."

"That's in the past, Muradin," Brann said. "Regrets won't change anything."

Griffonclaw watched, grateful that he was unnoticed by the three dwarves. Their reunion, their family made whole again, was a reminder that nothing is altogether unamalgamated good or bad; while the crusade to Icecrown had cost the Alliance Fordragon, one of its best and brightest commanders, it had also allowed his King to regain his thought-lost brother.