During the Midsummer seasonal event, each capital city lights a bonfire. Characters can earn an achievement by making their way to each of the opposing faction's fires and stealing some of the flames.
Ambrose's vision swam as the world solidified around him. He was grateful for the spirit healers, of that there was no doubt, and being a mage he was well acquainted with practically all of them. Still, the process of relinking his spiritual essence with his corporeal body made his stomach lurch every time.
Granted, it didn't help that that the first thing he saw as he scrambled to his hands and knees was the lush grass of Mulgore hundreds of feet below.
Colquitt's legs trembled as he regained his footing. He'd been so close! The tauren guards packed a hard punch, but the mage's mana shield could take a fair bit of pounding before it cracked. Bloodhoof didn't like his guards to stray far from their posts, particularly at a time like midsummer when the more daring Alliance adventurers took their chances up on the high bluffs. Ambrose had just about reached the safety of the far end of the rope bridge when a troll mercenary appeared out of nowhere and administered the coup de grace before the young man even spotted him.
This was no time to give up, though. The mage could see the blue tongues of the capital's enchanted flame just ahead. Seconds were all he needed. Quietly, Ambrose closed his eyes, bowed his head, and chanted. A moment later his body faded from view, invisible to all but the most perceptive of guards. The young man carefully picked his way across the end of the rope bridge, and then ran as hard as he could in the direction of the bonfire. Working on instinct and an educated guess, he positioned himself in the middle of a small clearing and crouched.
Within the space of half a breath the illusion faded and Ambrose shimmered back into form. Luck was on his side tonight! The midsummer pyre was immediately in front of him, and the mage plunged his cupped hand into the pit, pulling it back to reveal a small orb of stolen flame.
Instantly Colquitt stood and sprinted for the edge of the mesa, shoving past a sin'dorei woman. Two heavily armored tauren hefted their axes and moved to block the mage, but this time Colquitt had the advantage of surprise. He shouted an incantation and dove headfirst between the massive guards and over the bluff's edge. Instead of plummeting to the grass below, however, Ambrose glided gently away from the Spirit Rise, buoyed aloft by a spell of slow falling. Less than half a minute from now he'd gently touch down in the dew dampened pastures of Mulgore. Colquitt looked down at the flickering ball of fire in his hand and smiled. “Worth a little trouble, I'd say.”
Ambrose turned his body and looked back toward Thunder Bluff as it receded into the evening gloom. To his surprise, however, the blood elf he'd muscled past leapt from the mesa intent on pursuing the thieving mage. Colquitt's little bit of trouble was not over yet.
The four flames were the last thing I needed to complete the midsummer meta-achievement! Yes, the belf mage actually followed me over the edge and splatted me two seconds before my teleport spell completed. Ah, well. Totally worth the trouble.
writing/thief in the night.txt · Last modified: September 2, 2011 by Dave Leach