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The flight over Hillsbrad was smooth and quite uneventful. So much so that Cail was able to relax a bit and take in the breath-taking scenery of the forest below. Particular sites once familiar to him had changed of course. There were small dark purple tents set up along the road and at odd places, marking forsaken outposts. Other than these it had remained much as he had remembered, though he had never seen it from this angle before.

[Travel check passed]

He passed between two tall mountains that stood as spires. This must be the pass into the Hinterlands, Cail thought. For some reason the old gnome never much liked visiting these lands. Perhaps it was due to the trolls that populated the woods, or maybe it was his dislike for birds. The only thing he never really liked about the Wildhammer. Their affinity for the birds. Griffins to be precise.

[Landing check failed.]
[Follow up "disaster assessment" check passed]

Peering out over the landscape while the autopilot made the final approach toward Aerie Peak the craft lurched one direction and began to fall rapidly. Alarms of all sorts sounded and lights of red, green, and blue flashed. Cail grabbed the stick and fought the craft out of the beginning of a tail spin.

The turbines and stalled. Flipping switches and cranking nobs the engines sputtered and kicked back online, roaring to life. Thier plummet to doom was eased back to a simple hard landing. Their impact with the ground just in front of the Aerie Peak barracks jarred Cail hard, bend the landing skids and torqued the frame, but otherwise it was a textbook landing.

Cail rolled out of the pilot's seat of the aircraft and wandered away a few paces. S.I.M.S. to Cail's delight followed quickly after. He sat himself against a tree, groaning. "Ohhh. Sims. Do me a favor. Scan my brain and heart. I... I don't feel quite right."

S.I.M.S. beeped something sarcastic. "Yes, Sims. I know. I was there."

Pinpoint thin beams of blue light emitted from the mechanical squirrels' eyes, scanning over the old gnome in an arc. The pair of blue beams of light hovered several passes over Cail's head and chest. From the barracks several Wildhammer dwarves rushed to the scene. They arrived just as S.I.M.S. finished Cail's scan. The metal creature beeped his prognosis.

"Oh good." Cail replied. "I thought I might have broken something. Its just shock then."

"ACH!" One of the dwarves exclaimed. "AYE CANA BELIEVE MAI EYES!"
A female dwarf rushed to Cail's side. "Eh there you old gnome. How are yeh feelin?" Another pair followed her concern. Cail waved them off.

"I'm... I'm fi-fine. I'm fine. Ju-just a bit of sh-shock." He took several quick deep breaths.

"No. Oh no." The female gestured to the others. "Lets get him inside on a bed. You! Fetch him a tankard of Ale!" She clapped her hands and the others jumped to.

Cail sat at the bar. The old gnome nursed his third mug of dwarven stout. It was quiet in the keep. The barracks were mostly empty, filled only with those souls sleeping for the night watch. It was the sweet hour or so between afternoon shift changes. A perfect sweet hour, or so, of quiet which allowed Cail to think and ruminate on where he needs to go from here.

His original plan was to only spend the night at Aerie Peak. Sample some of their finest brews that only the Wildhammer had to offer, resupply, and then be on his way north... or there abouts. Truth is he still hadn't a particular location in mind. No real game plan, some men might say. Foolhardy. These were dangerous lands after all, filled with all sort of unimaginable abominations that wouldn't hesitate to devour a man, or gnome, whole.

On the other hand it all seemed fairly logical. At least it did to Cail, in that special sort of way it can for a gnomish mind. He had already drawn up a medical procedure that would help correct the issue with his weak heart. Those plans were given to Nixim before setting off from Thelsamar. By now the Master Tinker should have some sort of device on his drafting table. It was all for naught if he couldn't figure out this issue with the shadow.

What better place to find answers than the source, or what at least seemed to be the source. The undead, after all and as far as Cail could tell, were beings of shadow. Utilizing its magics should come second nature to most. Naturally they'd have records, text books, scrolls, anything and everything written down on the matter. It was a habit of humanity after all, to create a record of important things. Shadow Magic was an important thing.

It was all a gamble, he knew. Cail was banking on the fact that most of these forsaken still had a sliver of humanity left in them, and that they'd be compelled to keep records of their findings. It seemed only logical. The personal jeopardy involved was an unfortunate matter he simply had to come to grips with.

The old gnome heard him long before he smelled him. The heavy padding of leather soled feet came up the stone stairs from the lower levels of the keep. The dwarf paused at the top of the stairs for a moment to capture his breath, then moved to a seat beside the old gnome. Cail took a long swig from his mug and exhaled, savoring the rich flavors unique to Wildhammer brew. It was then that his senses were invaded by the fiery red bearded dwarf that took the seat beside him.

"Hey there." The dwarf greeted. Cail nodded a greeting and quickly took another draw, hoping to smother the smell with more stout. Along with his fiery red beard the dwarf had a full head of long red hair. Obviously of Bronzebeard lineage, it was an odd sight to see one such this far north... thought not uncommon.

"Tha' yer craft they're repair'n, no?" Cail nodded that it was.

"Ah. I though' as much." His tone and features drew somber. "Ah'm sorry ta'have ta tell'ya this... it appears as though yer repairs are more than expected. Seems ye busted it up pretty badly with that landin' the other day."

Cail gave the dwarf a concerned look. "Its has?.. I mean, it did?.. I did?" Cail eyed him a moment. "Just what are you getting at? And who are you anyway?"

"Ach!" the dwarf wiped his hand across his simple leather tunic and held it out. "The name's Susen. Ah'm supervisin' the repair work on yer aircraft." Cail warily shook his hand. "An' like I was sayin, the repair work has run into a snag. You see, it seemed like it would take only a few quick and simple repairs at no charge. Good deed and all that, but there are some parts and specialized labor involved now an'well its gonna cost ya."

The red bearded dwarf held a hard but friendly gaze with Cail. Cail in turn couldn't decide if this dwarf was being honest or if there was something else to him. His gut said to call his bluff, but if he were wrong he'd risk being stuck in the Hinterlands with no way home but his own two feet. It was too much to stake.

"Alright." Cail finally agreed. "How much do I owe you?" The old gnome reached down into his pack and began rummaging around.

"Five hundred gold coin." Susen said evenly without a stutter. Cail winced.

"Five hundred!" He pulled his hand out and glared at Susen. "How in the name of .... How is this possible?"

"Special labor, parts, an' we had ta manufacture a few pieces ourselves."

"Bu-but... h-how!?... That can't be right." Cail shook his head. "No. That's too much... I don't even have that much on me. Why.... that's a small fortune!"

Susen shrugged and stood. "Oh. I see. Well. I suppose then that I'll tell the others to hault their work and strip it down."

"What!?"

"I'll be sure ta have them pack the rest into a small crate for ya." Susen turned as if to leave.

"Wait! Maybe... maybe there is something else I can do to compensate you?" Susen stood a moment and rubbed his beard in thought. "Please. I need this transportation to head north. It's of the utmost importance to me."

The red haired dwarf eyed the old gnome. "I'm listening."

Cail wringed his hands. "Well... I have.. uhm.. one hundred gold and forty silver left to my name, plus a few copper...."

Susen grinned wide and bellowed. "HA!" He slapped the old gnome hard on the shoulder with his meaty hand. "Its settled then. You pay me your hundred gold an take a special shipment up north to the Hearthglen an we'll call it even!"

Cail held up a finger to protest but it was too late. Before he could mentally turn around twice Susen was heading down the hall to the main entrance. The dwarf called back over his shoulder. "I'm going to go square it all with the boys. Be at yer craft bright an' early on the morrow. We'll 'ave every thin' prepped an' rearin' ta go!"

Cail watched the dwarf disappear. He turned to the bartender hoping to get a second opinion, but the dwarf appeared the least bit interested. His pack on the floor began to move. Out scurried S.I.M.S. who bounded to the chair and then to the bar top. He beeped and whistled to Cail who in turn rubbed the chin within the gray wild beard of his.

"Yes." He pondered. S.I.M.S. beeped again and Cail nodded. "You say he was telling the truth?" His face drew down. The little old gnome looked rather withered and weak right then. "Well, that is a disappointment. I suppose I have no other choice then."

The old gnome finished his ale, leaving just as the afternoon crew of soldiers, guards, and workers arrived from their shift.

At the twilight of dawn the next morning Cail made for his aircraft.

He was never the type of person to take advantage of another person's good will. He'd has every intention on sending a crate of his Dark Brewed Lager to the dwarven engineers as thank you when he returned to Stormwind... whenever that may be. But now he just wanted to avoid that red haired dwarf and get out of Aerie Peak. He had begun to feel that he'd overstayed his welcome and it was well past time to leave.

He hurried as fast as his weak heart would carry him. Turning the corner and entering the main garage his heart dropped. Standing against his aircraft was none other than that red bearded dwarf, wearing an ooze-eating grin. Cail eased his pace and tried to calm himself so as not to appear in a hurry.

"Mornin!" He waved. He anticipated I might do something like this. Clever. Cail returned the greeting with a half wave as he neared the craft.

"Ye got my payment?" Right to the point. Cail pulled a small pouch tightly packed with the rest of his gold coin and tossed it to the dwarf. Susen caught the pouch and hefted it in one hand. "Mmhm." Cail eyed the dwarf.

"You have reason to mistrust me?"

Susen shook his head and grinned. "Not at all. Merely an old business habit." He stood and backed away. "Everything is already loaded." He pointed to a smallish crate tied to the underside of the craft between the skids. "Don't forget. Hearthglen by noon tomorrow." He quickly turned and virtually disappeared around the corner before Cail could object or ask a question.

Cail had no objections, other than having to part with the rest of his traveling funds, much less to a dwarf of whom Cail was growing more and more suspicious. He glanced down at the crate tied to his aircraft. He had half a mind to cut it loose and be on his way, but a deal was a deal... no matter how uneasy it made him feel.

S.I.M.S. scamped out of his pack to the old gnome's shoulder. It glanced around the room before leaping to the craft. "Sims. Run a diagnostic. If everything appears fine then start'er up." Cail secured his pack. He pulled on his leather flying cap with the goggles and a pair of leather gloves. The display within the goggles illuminated and information began streaming in Cail's periphery.

S.I.M.S. beeped a response and Cail nodded. "Alright. Plot a course to Hearthglen while I taxi outside."

Lift off was a smoother than ever. Cail thought that the crisp mountain morning air seemed to agree with the aircraft. He also favored the crisp morning air. As he climbed higher he felt a weight lift from his shoulders and his mind cleared. The morning sun was just beginning to break on the horizon.

At altitude, Cail pushed the stick forward and began crossing the over the mountains following the flight path S.I.M.S. had set. After a few minutes the distant wreckage of a city crept through the tree tops. Down below he spied what appeared to be a small encampment. To the west a long trail leading to a small gleaming white stone structure. He had half a mind to make a pit stop wanting to catch up on the history he'd missed all these years, but he continued onward.

As the sun rose and warmed the earth small pockets of warmer air began to form creating mild turbulence while he passed over the lost city of Andorhal. A tear formed in his eye at the memory of what it had once been. He pressed onward, lost in his memories when suddenly the craft lurched to one side. On instinct he tried to compensate for the sudden dip. It would prove to be a fatal error.

The craft passed into an unseen vortex and the craft suddenly dropped several dozen feet like a stone. The old gnome's compensation turned into an over correction. As the craft began to tumble one of the engines stalled out adding a disorienting spin to his rapid descent.

The world blurred around him and quickly Cail lost all sense of space. He couldn't tell where the horizon was anymore. Which was up and which was down. S.I.M.S. gripped the console dash with his metallic claws. His eyes were flashing blue and though Cail couldn't hear it the mechanical squirrel as beeping a message.

Cail fixed on the blinking eyes. The memory of Nixim's preflight tour around the craft at Thelsamar flashed before him, and he remembered the emergency beacon. Cail fought for a breath. "MAY DAY!" he yelled at S.I.M.S. slowly mouthing each word just before impact.

Loud noises. Twisting metal. Clouds of flying earth and debris. Fear. Panic. They combined into a chaotic mix of images, sound, and emotion.

...then came silence.

LIttle Gnome in the Woods
http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13437403611
Bridge over Thondroril
http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13594920078
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Weeks had past since the accident. The old gnome sat up in his bed, convelessed by the talented healers of Hearthglen.

He felt surprisingly well considering the trauma he had suffered more than a month prior. Others, he knew, wouldn't have fared as well. By all rights he should be dead. His extensive medical experience told him so. It was also written across the faces of the nurses who had attended him. Human, elf, gnome alike. Each were amazed at his condition, after hearing the details of his accident, and more so witnessing how swiftly he improved while in their care.

I'm a frail old gnome with a heart condition. There is no logical explanation to explain any of it.

Sore bruised eyes blinked, still partially swollen. Tired muscles of a battered and tired body ached with each subtle movement. It was time for him to begin more aggressively moving, he knew. The stage of physical therapy had arrive for him, much sooner than it should have but nonetheless... here he was.

Gritting his teeth the old gnome moved one leg at a time to the bed's edge. A human nurse entered the room. A look of sheer panic flushed her features, but she was stifled by Cail's attending nurse. A fellow gnome, she knew what Cail was up to even though he had explained nothing. Being gnomes with vast experience in the medical disciplines, it was something that they simply understood. A shared connection.

Both legs dangled off the edge of the bed and the old gnome slowly exhaled. He drew in a deep breath, exercising controlled breathing techniques to help him control his pain. Cail was a bit of a sadists when it came to his own comfort. Spells, tonics, and so forth numbed the pain but also dulled the senses. This way he could feel everything, especially the pain. He knew when he was pushing too far too fast and could then adjust or relax. Otherwise he might damage the healing that had taken place and only exacerbate his situation.

He wouldn't let that happen. He was so tired of his damned bed and this damned room. He needed to feel the sun on his face again. The rod and reel in his hand. The pipe 'tween his teeth, lungs full of his favorite pipe weed.

The old gnome glanced up at the human nurse. She stood silent, one hand over her mouth suppressing a gasp, the other clutching to a letter which she held at the waist.

"Come now... child. What is it." Cail grumbled. His voice hoarse and tone less than cheery. He was fighting to contain waves of aches and pains and in no mood to even try and appear pleasant. His attending nurse, the gnome, waddled over to the human and held out her hand with a glare. The human nurse passed on the letter and then was shooed out of the the room.

She placed a set of wooden steps under Cail's feet, stepped up on the first and offered him the letter. "Could you be a dear... and..." The nurse nodded.

She broke the wax seal, unfolded the thin parchment and read aloud.

As Cail listened he recognized its tone. Similar to Genevra's but not her. More... dray. Serious. Calculated. Scientific. That's the word. Much more scientific than Genevra, but still similar in a way. The further into the letter the more he realized that it indeed wasn't Gen. It treated details of an attack on the Stoneheart and a synopsis of her current state and care.

The letter ended with a beckoning, as well as a promise that his journey would be swift and painless since she would arrive to collect him by portal.

A mage. It was then signed by Tahlyn. Cail's intuition was correct. Not Gen but Tahlyn's hand, but it might as well have been Gen. She was in bad shape and needed the care of a close friend. In truth he could use a little friendly care, if only through the simple company of those he knew.

Sims bounded atop the bed and sat beside the old gnome. Cail grinned a bruised and battered face that was still on the mend. Sims beeped.

"Yes, old friend. That's right. We're going home."

The cloak of shadow that shrouded Cail drifted like a wispy cloud, discoloring the tone of his skin and clothing. With some aid he descended the pair of wooden steps and stood bed side. The gnome nurse helped him change into a simple pair of pants, a shirt, belt, and his boots. She gave the old gnome a cane which he utilized to waddle across in a tight circle across the room, stretching his legs.

Beside the door he spied them. His hat and pole. Waddling to the door he pulled his favorite fishing hat over his head of wild gray hair. He tossed his can aside, trading it for the fishing pole. A quick test showed it as sturdy as the cane to lean on.

The old gnome smiled, feeling more like his old self again.

The next day Tahlyn arrived with the portal she promised. Travel back to Stormwind was swift and effortless. Cail marveled inwardly at the skill of the mage, and secretly wondered if he had been in the wrong line of business all these years. He chuckled inwardly.

Sims followed close at his side.

Learning that Gen had been moved to her home in Lakeshire, Tahlyn, the dear that she was, facilitated another portal and in short order he found himself standing at Genevra Stoneheardt's front door.

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Cail had received the shock of his life when he was greeted at the door by none other than Veil'thian. The rest of the visit went as well as could be expected. Genevra was in terrible condition and typically too stubborn to acknowledge her own needs before those of her friends. Her care was more than adequate, Veil'thian being quite an accomplished healer.

Cail could do nothing more for her, even if he wasn't in his own state of repair. His friendly presence, comfort and support would have to suffice. Perhaps that would be just enough.

Old and wounded as he was, Cail was in swift recovery. Veil'thian and she sensed his need and offered him a spare bed in one of their spare rooms.

The next morning the old gnome awoke, sore but otherwise feeling refreshed. He was looking forward to a great many things today and in the days to come. Paramount of them was to engage Veil'thian in a deep discussion about shadow magics. His words of encouragement the other night had gone a long way to strength Cail's own resolve that soon he would figure out his condition. Today he was counting on a little guidance from the wise night elf.

Thoughts trailed back to his savior. A man calling himself Sekhesmet. He hadn't realized it at the time, but sitting alone in the waking hours of the day it came back to him that Genevra and Sekhesmet had a kind of unfriendly rivalry.... was one way of putting it.

He knew that he had talked with Genevra about him before, but without putting a face to the name it was difficult to grasp the concepts she offered. The man he'd met was nothing short of a miracle worker. Cail couldn't say for certain what his motives had been, but they couldn't have been all bad. He had saved his life after all.

Cail's curiosity overtook him as he sat in the twilight of morning. The need to know what all had happened between his crash and his wakening in Hearthglen. That need filled him with a sense of greater purpose. He now had a goal.

In time.

Right now he needed to relax and finish healing, focusing on his own physical therapy; which entailed long walks along the lake with intermittent periods of restful fishing. He also needed to be there for Genevra in her time of healing. It was obvious that she had been arranging for some time a chance for Veil'thian and Cail to meet. Sadly it had to occur under such circumstances, but he owed it to Gen to sit and speak at length with the night elf. Though the old gnome knew it would be time well spent. Veil'thian had much to offer.

When all was said and done, however, Cail would find a helpful mage and utilize their teleportation talents to return to Hearthglen. He'd had enough of flying for a while. Once there Cail would search for Sekhesmet. The old gnome had a sense that this man would provide a very unique perspective in the matter of shadow magics.