The Maw, moments after taking the Death Gate.
The transition was wrong, Glacierfur knew that as soon as he stepped through. He’d heard the call of the Ebon Blade, to report to Icecrown, but he’d also thought he could put it off until he’d managed to assist the Templar’s. Then they’d gotten stuck in a beautiful, plainswept realm that smelled of souls and purity. Too much purity, for the item that was carried by Tabasa. It didn’t make sense, but… he needed to help. It was a risk, certainly, but taking a Death Gate would have at least only risked him. The calculated risk was acceptable.
Apparently he was worse at math than he thought.
The first thing that Glacierfur noticed was the screams. In the distance, carried on the dry, hot winds of a barren place, was constant screaming of pain, torturous pain. It was faint, but a worgen’s ears were quite good, even a dead worgen’s. The next thing he noticed was the desolation of the area. Even on a sharp, jagged hill, with a good line of sight across the area, there appeared to be almost nothing alive here, nothing growing. But there was movement, in the distance. Winged figures, in dark armor, battling others in dark armor, along with zombies and other creatures. The Ebon Blade, for the Scourge would not fight their compatriots.
He started climbing down the area, and remembered that Ryo had managed to set the communication system back up, albeit however haphazardly. As he climbed, he shouted, “Do not teleport! No Teleportation!” He wasn’t sure he was getting through, as he rushed down. There was static and squawks of what sounded like attempted communication. At least he was theoretically ‘close’ to the lost team, or Ryo’s repairs were better than he thought. Either way, he kept reporting as he ran to the Ebon Blade front.
“Ebon Blade has engaged Val’kyr! Repeat, Do Not Teleport! This is an active-” He was cut off as one of the winged, dark figures swept toward him, carrying chains and spears. Not enough time to keep going, to get to the line. The sword came out, and the battle was joined. He roared, and swung with everything he had. Blood and magic flew, and Glacierfur lost himself to the rage.