Tick… Tock… Tick… To–…
A knock at the door brought his thoughts back to reality.
Jarrick looked at the door, his hands clasped behind his head. The hour was late and he didn’t expect to have any visitors so late. Regardless, he obliged.
“Come in.” He said.
The heavy oak door creaked open. A young man, no more than sixteen, peeked his head in. He was clearly intimidated by the Marshal and as such, he was barely able to stutter out the words.
“M-M-Marshal.. A woman from S-SI:7 has requested your presence.”
Jarrick studied the messenger for a moment, slowly collecting his thoughts.
“Bring her in.”
The messenger boy nodded, quickly darting out of the room and into the hallway outside. Shortly after, a young woman, no older than her late twenties, entered the room. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her outfit was suited for travel.
“Marshal, please pardon my interruption. I have urgent news regarding the situation you have been helping us with in Stormwind and unfortunately, it couldn’t wait until dawn.”
Jarrick nodded. “Grace. What news do you bring?”
“The King is preparing to issue a Call-to-Arms. He, and his advisors, believe that the threat of the Legion is more than mere speculation. SI:7 has uncovered some recent information that lends credibility to this claim and he is not sitting idle. If the Rose will be joining this fight, we need to set this plan into motion now.”
Jarrick rose from his chair. “Let us waste no more time then.”
She nodded, her expression stern, and drew a device from her pocket. As she began to activate the device, Jarrick grabbed what he needed from his quarters and produced a small stone, speaking into it.
“Arialynn, Koryander.. It is time. Agent Hawke and I are returning to Stormwind to begin preparations. I will return in time for the War Council. Until then.”
As he finished speaking, Grace activated the portal and they both stepped through.
It was then that an overwhelming feeling of familiarity overtook him.
Something was wrong.
Something he had felt years before when he, Sielic, Sigmar, and Rynarth took the portal just moments before Theramore’s destruction. An outside force manipulated the portal and he could feel the path through time and space careening out of control.
A brilliant flash, and then a fall. The portal spit them out a few feet above the snow covered grounds of Northrend.
Was it Northrend? No. This was a different cold.
As his bearings returned, it was the snowcapped peaks of Dun Morogh that surrounded him.
Grace had landed a few feet away from him. He pushed himself to his feet and made his way over to her, helping her up. She looked up at him with a concerned look on her face.
“This.. This isn’t Stormwind.”
Jarrick shook his head. “Something manipulated the portals destination. I have experienced this once b–” The mighty roar of something massive shook the landscape and the sky above them opened up. Fel fire meteors streaked through the sky and pounded the landscape to the east of them.
His hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his blade.
“They have returned.”