<em>"Talk to him."</em><br/><br/>Emrick blinked, at first not seeing the person she had gestured to.  The back of the Forsaken was clearly visible, though, once the huntress had ridden off with another night elf.  A shiver shot up his once the undead came into full view; Emrick's balled into white-knuckled fists as he gripped Talia's reins, suddenly furious that one of his allies would talk to such a mindless horror.  Was she mad?<br/><br/>The crowd around him surged forward, and Emrick was forced to move towards the hospice.  He lost sight of bpth the night elves and the Forsaken as the refugees crowded towards the clinic.  The magrefocuses himself, putting the oddly infuriating incident out of his mind.<br/><br/>He had been studying the effects of raw nether on the ground and structures in the Netherstorm for nearly a month, and he had the fruits of his labor secured in the single satchel he carried himself: dirt samples, scrolls of observarions and analysis, and even a peculiar artifact that seemed to be a fusion of demon and naaru technology.  The odd cylinder was built out of the same metal as a Fel Reaver, and had similar tool markings and runes etched into it, but it's ends glowed a pure, comforting, almost tangible light.  Emrick had begun his return journey as soon as he found the cylinder in a vast pile of scraps that used to be a Fel Reaver, believing it could be a significant discovery.<br/><br/>Or maybe it was nothing.<br/><br/>The mage's hand unconsciouscly dipped into his satchel and touched the artifact as he entered the hospice.  The now familiar warm glow traveled up his arm, soothing him in much the same way his priestess mother's Light-filled touch had when he was but a child.<br/><br/>Emrick reached the tired looking dispatcher in the hospice.  The broad shouldered draenei eyed his mare dubiously as the mage began to speak.  "I'm sorry, but I can't trust her outside by herself," he explained.  The dispatcher nodded silently.  "Could you point me towards the dwarf Rommus Treearm of the Explor--"<br/><br/>"Over by the triage," the draenei interrupted, gesturing to the right and already looking past Talia towards the next refugee.  The mage quickly moved on.<br/><br/>He walked past rows of refugees waiting for food in the soup line, past stacks of supplies and medicine watched over by stoney vindicators, and finally made it to the triage.  The moans of the sick and injured replaced hungry mutters.  Emrick found Rommus sitting on a cot between two elves, looking thoroughly uncomfortable in a bandage that covered most of his chest and left arm.  His expressioned improved significantly once he spotted Emrick though.<br/><br/>"Emrick, it's been well ov'r a month!  How are ya, lad?"<br/><br/>The mage grinned sheepishly, not used to such a strong greeting.  Nonetheless, he grabbed Rommus' outstretched hand in fierce grip.  "Believe me, better than you."<br/><br/>The dwarf scowled at his immobilized left arm.  "I always thought the Light was suppos'd tah heal ya, but it burned me like 'ot embers."<br/><br/>The two men - friends for nearly five years - continued to make small talk.  Eventually, Rommus' laugh creased face turned serious, and he eyed the satchel strapped across Emrick's chest.  "So, what've you got for me, lad?"<br/><br/>The mage shrugged, digging through his satchel with one hand.  "The usual odds and ends: dirt samples, topography, plenty of scrolls, and-"  Emrick's hand reached the bottom of his satchel, and his fingers brushed against the rough, deeply grooved metal of the artifact.  As that familiar warm glow swept up his arm and throughout his body, he felt the sudden urge to hold onto the cylinder.<br/><br/>Rommus scratched under his bandage.  "An' what?  Speak up."<br/><br/>Emrick snapped back to reality, pulling a handful of scrolls out of his satchel.  "-and even more scrolls," he finished, smiling.  "Plenty of good reading material while you're bedbound.  See?  I<em>do</em>think of you."<br/><br/>The dwarf grunted, gesturing with his free arm at his bedside.  "Put 'em all there.  Once Gelda gets back, they'll be on their merry way."<br/><br/>Emrick did so, emptying his satchel onto Rommus bed', except for the cylinder.<em>I'll pass it on to the League, but I want to examine it first.  See if I can figure out it's engineering</em>, he thought to himself, slinging the nearly empty sack back over his shoulder.<br/><br/>Rommus was pawing through the materials immediately.  Emrick watched.  "Well?"<br/><br/>The dwarf grunted approvingly, holding up a purple rock.  "Very nice, as usual.  The Netherstorm might not be 'round for much longer, but this'll 'elp when the rest o' Outland begins to succumb."<br/><br/>Emrick nodded, realizing what Rommus meant.  The Netherstorm was just the beginning: who knew how long it would be before the Nether began encroaching deeper into Outland?  Like a stormy ocean steadily washing away a beach, the Twisting Nether would slowly erode Outland.  It was a chilling thought.<br/><br/>"So, where are ye headin' next?"<br/><br/>Emrick grinned.  "Azeroth, actually.  It's been almost two years, and now that we have portals here in Shattrath, I figure a vacation is in order.  Stormwind, Ironforge, Dalaran.  Maybe even Northrend, if the rumors about a northern Alliance expedition pan out."<br/><br/>Rommus nodded.  "Where ever you find yourself, lad, just keep safe."<br/><br/>Emrick touched the peculiar artifact, still hidden away in the satchel.  "Always do."<br/><br/>((OOC: Tapped this out on my iPod, so I apologize for any typos.  Editing on these things is an exercise in futility >.<))