New Blood

The bitter cold of Northrend ran over his shoulders like water around the firmest of rocks. The tauren seemed to relish the chilly air and breathed it in deeply. He tugged at his belt, checking to be sure that his dagger was still firmly tucked in place. His kodo was undaunted as it made its way hastily into Agmar's Hammer.

He was met inside the gates by Captain Gort. "What business you have here in the Hammer, Tauren?" The Orc snorted nonchalantly.

The newcommer looked on the Orc and said "I come in search of family."

Gort looked at him and asked "Who're you lookin' fer? We get a lot of travelers movin' through."

"I seek anyone that you know of the Tauren clan Pumastrike."

Gort raised an eyebrow and thought hard...for an Orc. "Sounds familiar...but I can't think of anyone from that clan. You may want to check with Doc Malefious...he seems to know everyone that passes through."

The tauren bowed his head slightly and thanked the orc just as a scrawny goblin ran up to him. "Tauren! I can help you! I have the information that you seek!"

The tauren looked down on the goblin and smiled. "What, my little friend, can you tell me?" As he finished his sentence he pulled several gold coins from his pouch and tossed them to the goblin.

The goblin squealed in glee and quickly gathered the coins. "Demonstrike! One of the brothers Pumastrike has been here recently! He has returned to Stonard...returned to the Grin...returned to his brother Ashenrock!"

The tauren looked into the distance while a frown crossed his face. "The Grin...The Blacktooth Grin...interesting. Little Goblin...can you get a message to these brothers in Stonard?" He flipped several more coins to the goblin.

"Of course! Within 3 days I can have the message to them!"

The tauren once again looked down on the little goblin and said. "100 gold will be your reward, my little friend, if you can get either of them to meet me here by weeks end. Tell them that Baldaro, brother of Sindall, wishes to see them...and give them this as proof." He pulled from his pack a black tile with nothing more than the letter B printed on it. "They will know what this means. I will wait here for them...do not disappoint me, goblin."

Demonstrike took a long, hard, look at the tile.

"He said that you would know what to do with it." The little goblin said excitedly.

Indeed, Demonstrike knew what to do, but the problem was that he was no longer capable of doing it. He would need the help of another shaman to unlock the tile's secret. He grimaced and thought about who he could trust enough to help him. He couldn't ask Grimnir due to the troubling circumstances with Gorfrunch. He could think of no other shaman, though. Perhaps there was another way...

Demonstrike reached up on a shelf and found his Lightning Capacitor. He had pulled it from the dead hands of Terestian Illhoof in the halls of Karazhan. Perhaps he could manipulate it enough to...

***BANG***

The trinket pulsed and a charge rushed through the room. The poor goblin almost hit the ceiling as he jumped. Demonstrike shook off the burn of the charge. It was hardly a damaging blow...but it certainly did sting the hands.

The tile, laying flat on the table glowed and crackled with energy. The white "B" on the front of it faded into a swirling vortex. From the vortex sprang the image of a tauren whom he imediately recognized. Though he ahdn't seen him in ages, he could never forget his Unlcle Baldaro.

"Saltrock, Demonaro, or Ashenrock. I am Baldaro Thunderpaw, brother of Sindall. It is important that I speak with one of you concerning her. I only pray that I find you before they do. Please allow whomever has presented this beacon to you a moment to give you my position. Be careful and know that you may be in danger. I hope to see you soon."

The vision quickly faded and the tile resumed it's original state. Demonstrike looked at the goblin. "Where?"

"He rests in Agmar's Hammer! Shall I take you to him?"

Demonstrike shook his head. "No. Go and tell him that I shall see him shortly. I will follow you by only a few hours."

The goblin hurried away, leaving Demonstrike to try and figure out what his Uncle was talking about. Their mother, Sindall, was dead and had been for years. What could he possibly have to tell them. There was no way to reach Rock and Salt...both were in Revantusk. Demonstrike decided to go alone. He gathered his things and made his way to his Zhevera.

"...and that is the long and short of it, nephew." Baldaro said with a sigh.

Demonstrike furled his brows and looked at the floor. "My mother was involved in espionage? That is what you're telling me? Uncle...you'll have to excuse me if I find that a bit unbelievable."

Baldaro laughed. "Your mother wanted so badly to unite the factions. She was an idealist, and had more than one human friend. She spent a good deal of time around Theramore and it was only a matter of time before she learned of Jaina Proudmoore's movement. You can ask your father all about it. Your old man helped her plenty of times."

Demonstrike looked up at his uncle, jaw agape. "My father was a hunter..."

Baldaro quickly cut him off "A hunter who knew the lands of Azeroth better than anyone I've ever known. He helped your mother move information between Thunderbluff, Theramore, and Orgrimaar, without detection or suspicion. Don't be so naive, Demonaro. Why do you think, that to this day, your father grieves so over your mother's death. He blames himself for ever letting her get involved...blames himself for not being able to protect her."

Demonstrike thought long and hard about this. "Does Ashenrock know anything about this?"

Baldaro shook his head. "I doubt it. Your brother will find this all more unbelievable than you...he shares your mother's thick-headedness." He sneered a bit "And he has that druid air about him...you know the one I'm talking about..."

Demonstrike smiled at that comment. His brother was always a bit holier-than-thou. "Therazane forbid that Ashenrock ever makes a mistake and I'm there to see it!"

The two shared a laugh and sipped at their ale.

"So, Uncle...you have no idea where this relic is, then? This Magefist Device?" Demonstrike asked

Baldaro shook his head "No...but I suspect Salt might. That puts him in danger as well. Him being holed up in Revantusk will protect5 him greatly from these fools, though. This gang of thieves and cut-throats is hardly a match for the Trolls...hell...I'm sure that Primal Torntusk could tear them all apart herself. We'll wait for now. You're sure that I won't have a problem staying with you and the Grin?"

"No problems. I'll discuss it with Grimnir and Yagyu, but I don't think that they would deny the uncle of a former guild leader quarter." Demonstrike said

Baldaro raised his eyebrows "Ashenrock...Ashenrock??? Led the Blacktooth Grin???" His eyes sank slowly to the floor "I have missed so much these past few years. I'm sorry that I haven't kept up with you boys for all these years." His eyes became sad as he looked on Demonstrike and his gaze softned "Perhaps I could have helped prevent your...transformation."

Demonstrike placed a hand on his uncle's shoulder. "No one but me could have prevented this, Uncle. That is another story best left for the inn at our new home here in Northrend."

Baldaro nodded. "Understood, nephew. Go talk to your leaders about my staying with you for a while. I'm going to head off to Revantusk and see your brother and father."

Demonstrike held up his hand "Ashenrock is most likely not in Revantusk at this point...he's doing something on his own right now. Something important. I'll tell you about it when I'm sure there are no rogue ears about."