Around the ship, there is nothing but the endless raging of the storm, as the remaining elementals and dybbuks scatter to safety, unwilling to attack the ship in the way of it driving off the Herald.<br/><br/><br/><strong>ELSEWHERE</strong><br/><br/>The badly wounded Herald reappears in a crack of displaced air, at the edge of the Tempest's largest and thickest cloud - fully miles across, and an inky black that stands out against the greys of its neighbors. Beating its wings to stay stationary through the gale, the dragon bellows into the opaque mass.<strong>"MY LORD, MOST MIGHTY AND DEVASTATING, THERE ARE INTRUDERS IN YOUR REALM. THEY HAVE REFUSED THE TRIBUTE OWED YOU AND DARED WOUND YOUR HERALD AS IF IT WERE YOURSELF. WHAT IS YOUR WILL,  MY LORD? SHOULD YOUR ARMIES BE MASSED TO CRUSH THESE INSECTS FOR THEIR TRESPASS?"</strong><br/><br/>For close to a minute, there is nothing but the wind and lightning, before a terrible and ancient voice drills a hole to the core of the dragon's mind.<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">&lt;a mATTeR tO Be hANdlEd PErSonAlLy. BuT fIRst yOu wiLL fEEd mE foR youR fAIlure&gt;</span></em></span><br/><br/>A single massive tentacle reaches out almost tenderly from the churning stormcloud, brushing against the Herald's flank where the lance still protruded, sending the creature into brief convulsions as its mind briefly touched its lord's. Then the touch was gone, and a moment later, so was Garamorosh, hurtling away through the skies towards the offending vessel, taking a small portion of the pitch-black cloud with it at the center of its own personal vortex. It was not hard to find the ship, merely to follow the calls of the storm elementals who followed it in turn and shouted warnings to their kin in the process.