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re: Ogumel and Charnia: A Trip to Argus

“You dare?!”

“Ahh, shut up!”

The Fel Guard that charged at Ogumel suddenly found himself tumbling to the ground after a blast of frigid wind knocked his foot out from under him. He quickly sidestepped out of the way of the tumbling demon before plunging his two blades, one in the side where it slid through the ribcage and the other through the neck of the demon. He ripped his blades back out of the demon as it spasmed and flailed at him angrily at him, eyes filled with hate and the demonic Fel green tint. Og charged in once more, this time swinging both blades at the head, and succeeded in finishing the demon off with the removal of its head.

Standing back to look at his handiwork, looked behind him at the two other demon corpses behind him, both of them Eredar, before letting out a grumble. “Too many of these damn things around. Can’t even felin’ properly look. Certainly livin’ up ter bein’ the Legion’s ‘homeworld’.” Though the thought that Argus, homeworld of the Draenei, was considered to also be the ‘homeworld’ of the Legion left a sour thought in his mind, adding only to his increasing irritability at the lack of progress he was making in his own mission.

He had caught wind that Charnia, one of two individuals he would consider his ‘adopted children’, if he could even call her that, was possibly spotted roaming around the Antoran Wastes of Argus; there was chatter of an armored worgen leaving behind a trail of corpses in their wake, along with a few thankful individuals whose aid they came to. What also stood out was one individual who swore they saw a large, winged lizard breathing flames of shadow come crashing down upon a demon patrol, and they were very certain that the best was NOT from Argus, but was an Azerothian dragon. That was all the information Og needed to start searching across the Wastes, not that it has been exactly easy; his lack of finesse when it comes to being stealthy did him no help when it came to roaming around a land filled with demons and death in every corner.

Thankfully, Og was no stranger to death. And demons were only a matter of killing them before they killed you.

Og picked up his blades and looked over himself before frowning; his armor had been stained with the blood from the demons, some of it getting into his beard. The beard he works carefully to keep as clean as he can, given his condition. His irritability would only continue to grow today, it seemed.

“Die, mortal!”

“Oh, fer the love of…”

And it seemed that there would be no end of it anytime soon.


Charnia carefully took in her surroundings again. She could still see the hounds running around, searching the corpses in the area they were in for any souls, non-demonic more than likely, that were still alive. Or at least she was doing her best to look around her surroundings while hiding under the corpses of a couple of Eredar to hide her scent. At least until they got closer.

She looked at the faces of the corpses that laid atop her and grinned. Their faces were twisted in agony, one of them whose right side of their face she had almost ripped off with her claws. That one’s screams were delicious to hear, remembering the look the demon had as she lunged at them, tearing at them first with her claws before swinging the blade she had and cutting both of them down. Savoring their deaths, however, resulted in her having to hide from the hounds as they came by, the flat land around her offering her no other method to hide and fall back.

She scanned her surroundings again and noticed one of the hounds wandering closer to her, sniffing around. She tensed up, realizing that she would be outed if it got any closer, and waited to strike first.

The fel hound continued to draw closer, sniffing and looking around the whole way. Eventually it came up to the two eredar corpses and sniffed the area. Pausing before sniffing again, Charnia watched as it tensed up, it’s hackles standing up on end, and it prepared to howl.

Wishing it had gotten just a little bit closer to the corpses, Charnia shoved the dead weights off of her and lunged at the hound, who managed to make a short, sharp howl before she grabbed at it’s head and dug her claws into the fleshy bits before she looped her arms around the head. She wrestled it to the ground, squeezing and twisting before she finally heard the satisfying sound of the hound’s neck snapping. She released the corpse, got on her feet, and grabbed and swung her blade just as a second hound lunged at her. The blade hit home as the demon tumbled behind her, it’s innards spilling everywhere.

She eyed the corpse briefly before looking back up as the third hound came at her. Swinging the blade once more, she nicked the side of the beast as it made an effort to dodge her. It skidded to the side before it lunged again, its jaws clamping around her left leg, teeth digging and tearing through tissue and coming close to crushing bone. Charnia let out a howl of pain before bringing her blade back down on the beast, piercing the skull. It let out a whimper and went limp, releasing her leg, her ankle now a bloody mess.

Charnia looked down and inspected her leg. The teeth of the hound had pierced through the armor plating of her leggings and, after inspecting it, saw that the armor was not digging into her wound. Growling angrily to herself, she stood back up onto her feet and, spitting on the corpse of the hound as she did so, began limping her way to somewhere where she could hide and tend to her wound.


He knew he should not have done that. He knew it and he did it anyway. He just HAD to look over one of the jagged edges of land that made the Antorus Wastes’ terrain as hazardous as it looked. He thought it would be able to hold his weight, that it looked sturdy enough, and that he wouldn’t be looking for long before carefully retreating away from the edge.

On the bright side, there was a small island in the stream of fel lava, or whatever the hell it was, that he fell towards. The downside? A fel-infused basilisk, looking for an easy meal, wasn’t far from where he landed, and moved a lot faster than he expected.

So here was Og, basilisk on top of him and both of them wrestling to get the basilisk’s jaws to go one way or the other, the basilisk wanting to clamp them around Og’s head while Og was working to open them until the basilisk’s head split open. This was proving more difficult for Og to accomplish than he imagined it would, as he was also having to put energy into preventing the basilisk from twisting and turning towards the fel stream.

“C’mon… get… the fel… offa me, you bloody bastard!” Ogumel continued to growl and curse at the basilisk, the only response he got from beast was the sound of its own breathing and exertion, as well as whatever its breath smelt like. One of the few moments Og was thankful that his sense of smell was almost non-existent.

Og continued to struggle with the best, kicking up at it and twisting its head as best as he could, as well as freezing the air around him to freeze the beast. The basilisk, however, used his kicking to help give momentum to twist and roll to the side, causing Og to roll over it and tumble to the edge of the island. He looked at the bubbling fel stream and cursed before tussling with the basilisk again, who lunged at him once more.

“C’mon… c’mon!”

Without warning, a loud roar echoed through the canyon the stream flowed through.


Charnia bit into the scrap of leather she had placed in between her teeth, making sure she wouldn’t bite her own tongue as she tended to her wounded ankle. Surviving fights with demons, only to suffer a self-inflicted death would be a disgustingly embarrassing way to go on Argus.

She finished tying the bandages around her leg and inspected her handiwork. She disinfected the wound as best as she could and wrapped it up, the healing potion she applied to it already mending the flesh. She got back onto her feet and tested her leg, feeling satisfied with the result. She then approached the ledge to one of the canyons and looked along it, trying to figure out which direction would eventually lead her to one of the Army of the Light bases.

Upon looking along the canyon and stream of fel within, she noticed a basilisk wrestling with an armored dwarf on one of the rocky surfaces just above the stream. A dwarf that looked familiar…

Charnia let out a huff and a snarl. “ he followed,” she muttered to herself. She didn’t feel too surprised: Ogumel, for all his coldness, worried over her and Sidaria as if they were still little more than fragile eggs. She then growled and leapt off the edge, muttering a spell and shifting forms once more into her true self; her wings stretched out and her claws flexed as she changed to the form of a drake of the Black Dragonflight, letting loose a roar and lunging down upon the basilisk and Ogumel, snatching up the basilisk in her claws. She then reached her head down and tore into the basilisk’s soft underbelly, sending entrails and fel blood everywhere before quickly spitting out what she bit. She’s avoided illness so far, she will NOT poison herself now by consuming tainted meat!


Ogumel let out a grunt as the basilisk was suddenly ripped off of him, before eying the fel stream he was precariously close to falling into. A little too close for comfort for him…

He then looked up and saw as Charnia dealt with the basilisk in a way he was used to seeing her deal with enemies and prey at this point: in a very bloody way. Not that such a sight bothered him much, as he knew he and Charnia were capable of worse. He gave her a grin and and shouted, “‘bout damn time ye showed yerself! Been lookin’ all over fer ya.”

He saw Charnia turn to him and give, what he could tell from her facial features, a frown. She then flapped her wings once more and flew straight at him. His grin faltered and fell into a frown. “...don’t you d- no no no no NO NO!” Before he could react, Charnia had snatched him up in her own claws and, turning around once more, began flying towards one end of the canyon. “DAMNIT, CHARNIA! I TOLD YE TER STOP DOIN’ THAT EXCEPT IN EMERGENCIES!”

Charnia snorted at him and muttered audiably in her rough tongue, “That wass an emergency.”

“And how was that an emergency?!”

“You were surrounded by fel.”

Ogumel grumbled some more as he saw where she was taking them to; one of the Army of the Light encampments in the Antoran Wastes. As they made their approach, a few of the guards became alarmed and began circling them as they landed.

After landing, Charnia released Og from her claws and turned to the guards, who began pointing weapons at her, and glared at them. As the guards tensed up, Ogumel scrambled to his feet and began waving his hands and got between Charnia and the alarmed guards. “Oi! Oi! She’s with me! She’s me mount! Please refrain from ‘armin’ ‘er! I still need ‘er ter carry me arse around.”

One of the guards, looking skeptical, looked at Og. “Where’s her saddle?” The question resulted in Og pointing a thumb to Charnia’s back and saying, “Got knocked off in a fight.” This answer didn’t seem to put the guard at any ease, but they and the others eventually lowered their weapons.

Og nodded towards them, glad that they were backing off. He then turned to Charnia and pointed towards the teleporter. “Alright, let’s head back up there. And as soon as we’re able, we’re gettin’ a lift straight back ter Azeroth.” As they approached the teleporter, he then turned back to her and spoke a brief line in Draconic: “And we’ll discuss things when we get back.”

This earned him a huff from Charnia, but she followed.

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