Zuriah tried to avoid going to Izarre and Folcan's house. She didn't want, or need the reminder of what happy home life was like. She also really didn't need Folcan's kind-hearted attempts to be family. She had a father. He was dead. She didn't need a human child to try to play the part, mother's choice or not. On any other day she would only stop by if Mother asked her to or if she knew that only Sky, one of the few people she actually enjoyed spending time with, was there.
Today, however, was not a normal day. In Dalaran they spoke of having defeated the Legion. Fools. Demons remained. There was still family to slaughter out there in the Nether. Still, Argus was no longer in the sky. The chatter over the Servitor's comms spoke of Sargeras in the sky, his blade destroying some forsaken patch of dirt, and their people, Mother included, barely surviving. Mother wouldn't be home tonight. She was searching the rubble and piles of charred skeletons for survivors and assisting with setting up a makeshift medical camp with the Dwarves sent from the keep. Still, something wasn't right. With all that had happened she hadn't heard Folcan over the comm making sure Mother was safe and offering to run to her side as usual. She knew quite well that if Izarre was on a mission and he wasn't, Folcan practically strapped his comm to his ear if he slept.
Dark. She opened the door and stepped in using the Light from her staff to shine some light on her path. Nothing seemed off. The house was just empty. She stepped back out into the darkness and shrugged off the feeling that clawed at her. She opened a portal and put a hoof through it as her glowing eyes shifted to Folcan and Mother's smithy and workshop. It too was dark but she decided to have a look anyway. If Folcan was there working she'd rather catch a glimpse and be off rather than call out and have to live through another awkward conversation. As she approached she saw the furnace was dim, embers practically dead. He had been there, probably several hours before. Slob. Who worked in this mess? Raising her staff she increased the Light coming from it's crystal. What little furniture there was was mostly thrown about. Folcan's hammer was unceremoniously thrown on the floor. She knelt by it and moved a gloved finger to the warhammer's head before rubbing her thumb over it. Blood.
She remebered her last encounter with Folcan. Right. A prank. Blood. There should have been far more of it a week ago to avoid whatever had happened here. "What did you get yourself into, bughead?" she muttered. Tonight was not the night to call Mother with this news. She reached for her comm and spoke calmly into it. "Brommidor, do you have a moment?"
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