Pain.

  Everything in my body was made of pain as I stood upon the root of my armor, which had dug into the ground. I was fag the bed skeletal remains of Mannoroth, half of his on impaled in me while the remaining part was flung elsewhere.

  The paw I used to stab him was dangling limply with multiple fractures and deep burns, the metallic cws snapped or bent the wrong way, and my armor of bark and bone was scorched and cracked but otherwise retively inta the deeper yer. It ainfully hot all the same, though.

  Because of that, most of my fur and skin weren't buroo badly, a fate–thank the Twin Bears–my eyes, ears, and nose shared even if right now I was half blind, seeing bright spots fshing, my ears were painfully ringing, and my nose and throat bur each breath as if acid was going through them.

  But I was there, scious, breathing–if only by half–and with a beati; it wasn't a pain that dying would bring. I won. I was very much alive, immensely pissed at what happened, and equally relieved and pleased at the piece of demon shit departure.

  Yet I was eted first and foremost. I thought I was going to die. I had been going to die... I should have met my end here under all metrics. I got too close and didn't react well.

  But I didn't. It took me a few seds to fully process. I nearly died. It was... strange.

  My first attack almost ended with that result; it had been suboptimal aion-fueled, but it didn't. I was lucky and survived. And that brought excitement all on its own with fear—a thirst for more.

  Still, if only t him had been a possibility.

  I gred at the destru wrought on the nd, and then my gre deepened into a frown and snarl at the bde embedded in my chest. It brought the memories of when my frail human ribcage was crushed.

  The pain was no different, but I could soldier on in this life.

  'By Ursol and Ursoc, he had to fug be explosive… Fuc-' I thought with a low growl esg my blood-coated throat, and my mind fshed white in agony for half a sed as I suddenly yahe jagged on before zily throwing it away like the piece of broken trash it was.

  Fur, flesh, and bone fragments poured out from the noing open wound on both front and back. The thought I was a donut passed briefly in my mind, and if I didn't hurt that fug much, I would have chuckled.

  Though the pit lord detonation was more of a discharge of violehan a proper explosion, it was more or less a violent leakage like a nuclear pnt failure to a nuclear warhead. Extremely dangerous all the same, just of a different nature, and that was why I wasn't into bloody bits. Or so I reed.

  Most of the pain wasn't from it anyway; it was rubbing salt in the wound at worst. This abomination lobbed one of my legs and half a paw, first breaking my flight. Theabbed me i, boiling a third of my iine, and did it a sed time through my chest. There was no fme there, but in the process, he shredded a lung and messed up my spine.

  The pest didn't get my heart. The demon lord didn't miss; his aim had been perfect. I made him miss by ging the pce of his target. Getting stabbed there wouldn't have instantly killed me, but it was a crippling blow in the long run for the fight.

  After all, I could stay up for a few minutes without a perfectly funal heart. Or a heart at all if I pushed and ignored potential sequences by pushing Life in my brain and muscles. Well, in theory, when it came to myself, I didn't test as extensively as I should have, but I wasn't insane.

  There had been more than a few spars with fellow ursa totemics that went quite far as I could heal a lot, but still. A grazed artery wasn't parable to what could have happened.

  It would have been put to practice if the pit lord decided to do his fme trick there, too. But betweeaih and potential death, the choice was evident.

  Regardless, I could regee the an no matter its destru, but it wasn't quid took a lot of focus—something you don't have in the middle of a battle to the death.

  Moving the anic pump to the side and making a shell of bone, fat, and other ective tissues around its area was far more straightforward, if deeply unpleasant. But it had worked; Mannoroth had been arrogant, and millennia of experience are useless if you uimate your foe.

  The pit lord could have won and should have. He was strohan me in magic, body, and skill, but he acted like a dimwitted brute and paid the pri an impromptu lobotomy.

  It was a gamble I took, and I hit the jackpot. Again, I was lucky. However, I didn't do it alone.

  "Thank you, oh mighty and wise aors of old…" I whispered before coughing blood–literally–as I felt the a furbolg spirits leave my presence, pride, and praise in their eg voibsp;

  ~...Farewell, brave one.~

  ~A feat worthy of the Twin Bear's Chosen…~

  ~Well fought!~

  ~Victory has been cimed.~

  Immediately, the spiritual maion of a leg and half a paw vanished into motes of light, leaving the areas with a sense of nothingness beyond the paralysis of my amputated foot. This sensation spread through my body as well, amplifying the pain into bonafide agony.

  And it was draining, sending waves of fatigue, but also it was its opposite since my mana pool didn't feel like it was getting sucked dry anymore.

  When used, it was the primary effect of the Spirit Whistle to instantly summon and materialize the aors at the cost of a lot of energy and even more to power them if they used spells.

  I didn't use it here to make a small elite squad, though—Ursol's initial i if I was ireme danger. It's not that it wouldn't have helped against Mannoroth, but the risk that he would have used more than half a brain cell in the fight if I had was too high.

  The better option was temporary prostheses–literal phantom limbs–allowing the spirits to share their might and wisdom through my flesh and armor. Those limbs were just a byproduct of a call to the aors, leading to a potent, short-lived boost in instincts, perception, and resilience, magical and physical.

  As such, these prostheses were notably inferior in all points to my true limbs, but they were acceptable with bone and bark reinfort. Losing body parts wasn't something I didn't foresee. It py ce that the aors could help in that department.

  And this was an unorthodox application of one of the Wise Bear's skills grafted on his gift, but it paled to the real deal. If arius could create a treant army, then the Bear of Wisdom did the same for the spirit of furbolgs, be they shamans, ursa totemics, or any others—all able to use their skills.

  It was temporary and more mana-intensive in parison but far more versatile.

  I felt a slight poke on my fur, and a massage to alleviate the pain followed. I rumbled in te.

  "Ah ya, good Groot? I'm, mostly. And good job, buddy." I cooed, and in respohe armor shaped itself ba its ideal defensive form–an image of myself but wooden–while repairing itself.

  My small leafy familiar wasn't unscathed by what happened. He art of the armor, and he served me as an assistant. A sed brain obeyed my and and adapted to the enviro while fog on stuff I couldn't.

  It was he who grew the roots to keep me from falling earlier. But overall, he got out fine.

  Treants were extremely resilient anyway. At worst, I regrow Groot ter through one of his branches using the Emerald Dream. Death wasn't the end; it art of the cycle. They don't die when they are killed. And Groot was far from weak for a young sapling.

  He was already healing from the Life and Nature mana residue from my ongoing healing—a rapid and almost automatic process. Any undesired extra holes were closed first while the little Fel that got in was being purged away.

  It was even why I didn't bleed out–Fel didn't cauterize my lobbed limbs–arteries, and veihe first things I sealed, if not straight-up heal. Tiny lesions that could be fatal and weren't anymore just like that.

  My spine came after, aing the sensation ba my remaining foot felt great; less so was the ck of the other, but my lung came first. Breathing with half of the pair and having blood that was yours in your throat was unpleasant, to say the least.

  The entire process of healing everything, barring my missiremities, took long minutes of bones shifting inside and flesh regrowing. I could go faster, but I was thh, and the burning agony vanishing was euphoribsp;

  I remained aware of my enviro, ready to set off another handful of lunar fungus spores alight as I searched for any would-be orcs or demons that had the brilliant ideas to finish me off. I wasn't particurly low on mana, and while flight was impossible, I wasn't out of tricks.

  And many of my self-created flora weren't to be used willy-nilly for the stro one. A single spore fshbang took a week for enough natural moonlight and starlight to accumute and be used.

  I didn't have plete trol of biology. At best, I was a forceful guide, even with direct maniputions of traits. I couldn't snap my finger, and poof, a flower under my will became a deadly turret shooting explosive seeds. No, it was a delicate process.

  Luckily for once, in this fug day where everything seemed to g in the worst possible way, there wasn't anyone, not even any animals.

  Well, besides an oversized 'crow' that did not correspond to any local species, it had been perched somewhere high irees. But spirits decidedly weren't animals irictest sense of the word, and this wasn't even a kindred of the wild. Or a regur spirit, for that matter; it only vaguely felt like one.

  It felt like a void of nothing with hints of Are–exceptionally trolled at that–only made obvious because of the oppressive amount of chaotic demoniergy polluting the air.

  It was a bea of order. Not that I could study the 'raven' well. It had flown away the instant we made eye tact–I gred promise of murder at it–though I had a clear picture of who that might be—the reason for my gre, in fact.

  A few owls and night elves too–the word animals worked there, evolutionary-wise–but they were ret. The wind had shifted, and I khey were there, no matter how hidden they may have been. Sts were difficult to eliminate, or more precisely, that there was something, and these women stunk of orc blood.

  Turning around with a wooden foot around my stump of a leg–it was to be regrown when, in a less dangerous area, I couldn't reach the bits that fell since Fel ate them–I faced them and walked toward them with a slight limp—their glowing standing out in the dying forest like bluish fireflies.

  "Do you need my help? Are you from the group that was massacred by the demons? I offer healing, purification, and susteo any survivors." I asked loudly, and the dozen elves tensed up.

  Getting closer, I got a better look at them, and they were almost all staring dumbly at me and the skeleton behind. Still, they were ready to attack, and I 't say I wouldn't let loose if they did. All these Fel in Ashenvale weren't without effect, and I never was the person with the most self-trol.

  "By Elune, I 't believe my eyes. Did it kill this…? And that strange armor, it talks too… is it that the furbolg is?" One of the thinner sentinels whispered to a bulkier panion tht, pletely ign me, and the other nodded.

  In her case, she was ready to flee. It was a futile endeavor if I wanted her dead that spoke a thousand words, even if that wasn't irrational on her part.

  I didly look the frie right now, too, but I wasn't going to lower my defeill, I waited a bit, but after ten seds of them babbling and the others' terse silence, I snapped.

  "I'm not in the mood for patience. Answer now. Do you need help, or do you want to waste my time and the ones in need? Oh, and I'm Ohto, so yes. I'm that furbolg and not an 'it.'" I spoke mgressively and bluntly than I hoped–not that I cared much–but that got the message across.

  The rea was, as expected, e and shock. It was an amusing sight, but it could go wayward easily.

  "How dare you-" A huntress atop her cute little nightsaber screamed and seemed about to attack by how tight she held her moon give.

  It was a heterogeneous sensus; some were shocked, and others were ready to mettle with my cws. Be a little rude mortal, an 'ungrateful pet you take care' at that, and most of them lose their shit.

  "Aeldris, calm yourself down! My sisters, frustration and anger are high, I know, but let it be used on the demonic fiends to avenge Lord arius and not on a weary friend of the wild." The source of the authoritative voice came into view, and I snorted. At least their leader was reasonable. Well, I did tickle their sensibilities, but eh… I did more than all of them bined.

  "Thank you…" I drawled, flig my round ears toward her, "Shandris Feathermoon, Head of the Shadowleaves or what remains of us… Ohto of the Greenweald." She answered rigidly, if helpfully, with something akin to relief.

  'Isn't she like the adopted daughter of Tyrande and Malfurion?' I thought while the self-named Shandris went on.

  "We are under duress, and a healer of your skills would be appreciated. The outnders and their demonic masters have proven far greater foes than foreseen." She finished.

  "Where's the camp then? Also, where is the Grimtotem force?" I asked, tapping a tree. And my bag slung above to safety was lower sed ter through the vine, and I fused it bay armor. I almost fot it.

  "Taurens… Those mortals… they are helping at the camp further North where the taint hasn't spread and proved strong in battle…" The elven woman expined, and by her tone, she wasn't the most pleased. At least she was ho, even if ashamed.

  "Let's go then."

  And that's what we did. Holy, it wasn't that far, and even if I had some difficulty keeping up with the kaldorei and their mounts' rapid pace, we arrived ihan thirty minutes.

  Miserable fitted what I was seeing. It wasn't so much the number of taurens and night elves oh doors. I mean, it was like o of twenty, but the atmosphere was heavy and tense.

  The kaldorei, in particur, females and the minority of males, looked dht on the precipice of breaking dowher of sorrow or fury, or both and some more. It was eye-opening. The sehat escorted would pass for euphori parison.

  'Quite the wake-up call, it seems.' I thought critically. Cruel as it may sound, it should help bring them down to earth, and everyone would be better off that way.

  The Grimtotem taurens were just angry more than anything and, actually, the ones doing shit around with the few funal elves. The leading figure of them all stomped quickly toward us, and I instantly reized those blue fur markings and shaved-off horns, though a long, thin scar ran from his right eye to his nose now—a fresh one.

  'An ugly yet effective heal. There's muprove, but he learns well.' I internally evaluated.

  "Ah, Captaihermoon, any good news… oh." Ton Windbow trailed off as his singur eye locked onto me. He immediately bowed, earning an amused snort from me. "Teacher?"

  "Ton-" I said, then tilted my head down to the paratively tiny elf captain, "-and Shandris, you round up the freshly deceased elves and taurens alike? Oh, and by the way. Favoritism will not be tolerated."

  Diste, anger, and inprehension from my words were for my eyes and ears to perceive in rge amounts, but fuck them. I'm the healer here. Hypocritical as it may be, too. If there were any furbolg, they would pass first.

  "My sisters, do as the furbolg demands! I trust his judgment as a healer." The alleged adopted daughter of the High Priestesses of Elune hollered, fetting the few druids present, but they helped regardless.

  While they did so, I sat down on the grass, popped a golden a in my maw, and used the life for it to fix my paw and leg. It wasn't needed, but helping and healing everyoo a point they weren't deadweight would take a toll on my already less-than-full reserve.

  Regrowing lost biomass articurly pricey, too, so it helped on that front. Well, if I didn't ibalize my own tissues, that was for extreme cases.

  Soon enough, I had a small line of bodies. From the look of it, death was almost exclusively from heme. Unsurprising, really, they retreated in haste after the Lord of the Forest's execution, and Shandris firmed this much; just like she had informed me, she immediately sent a messeo her mother inf her of what had happened.

  The Fel orcs ripped apart anyone, and this was the result: only people without having been beheaded, gutted, or the like mao flee. That greatly limited the number of grievously wounded, for they were left to die otlefield.

  "Ohto, you truly bring them from death's grasp?" Shandris tentatively asked with a froursed lips, but I wasn't going t her hope too high.

  "Depends! The cells of your brain begin to degrade shortly after the cessation of vital funs, but the extent of the damage varies too mue to give you an answer. I 't revive cells, so I'm limited sineurons are all about structure and e, which I 't replicate—regrowing them without perfect replicatios in an alteration of the ego, mind, and personality, leading to insanity, braih, or a vegetative state. A revival isn't eveain in those cases. Worse, it lead to desynization with the soul. So, assume the potential need for re-eduemory loss, and the like with what I'm doing in case of success regardless." I babbled to the stunned elven woman as I went to work.

  Then the sentinel I had my paw over–enpassing her eorso and some more–suddenly took a deep, sharp breath while looking around with bleary eyes.

  My a garnered hundreds of varyiions, mostly disbelief, etion, hope, and the like, but probing the kaldorei corpse, I shook my head. The reality of things was often disappointing, and this didn't disappoint this expectation.

  "No."

  There leading cry, but I mostly ig ao the corpse after–a female Grimtotem–and soon enough, the tauren stumbled forward with gssed-over eyes. It wasn't a free process for my patient, but the brain will adapt, psticity for the win. However, that meant they would be of little immediate use for the most part. At least they could move once more.

  This process was repeated several dozens of times, with success and failure skewering the statistics of the tter. I expected as much, to be ho. Following this was more mundane healing, which amoueing the eye of my boviudent, among other things.

  Every corpse had been buried deep under roots and sparkled with the spore of necrophagic mycelium, of course. It was normally used for makiilizer, but it worked just as well here.

  Undeads weren't yet sighted, but everyone now uood it was a matter of days, at the utmost, before they showed themselves.

  After that, I flew away, no matter the disagreement of some. I wasn't their personal nurse.

  Anyway, we parted away.

  The Shadowleaves and druids were to jouro Tyrahe Grimtotem po do the same, which the elves authorized which the elves authorized–to my pleasant surprise–with almost unanimous agreement.

  As for me? It was the Horde and Allia would be a pain in the ass, but I was curious, also vital since I didn't trust the night elves to hahe first tact with politeness.

  On my way, I sprihe spore of the same posting mushroom over the battlefield.

  It won't get rid of corpses thrown like this, only a portion of the fleshes–if there weren't a too high dose of demoniergies, then the mycelium just died–victories ted.

  Also, I scoured for arius' corpse, it was gone, however, and that pissed me off. I wasn't surprised, though, but it wasn't all the end. I gathered the bloodied dirt around where he died.

  Some of it with the cells–his–iill alive, if struggling—the God part of Wild God might be a bit of an exaggeration, but they were beyond the norms.

  'Ursoc first, though...' I noted, and that n of mih my teacher we had been w in, even if not focused due to the impending doom.

  But that was for after the war.

  The_Bip_Boop2003

  Thanks, EmilBigErk, Mike Stewart, BzeSavage, Jeff Fischer, Hope Bain, Tommyether, Qewin, Generie, Marcos darjog, Vesco De Magalh?es Júnior, Vex, 124f5, Joshua Crowell, John Parker, Michael Carter, Croc, Vampoodle, Marcus Traynor, Kunta, Nezih Süze, 白酒鬼, Zekitz, PeerlessCaster, Devon Emmons, Jarvis Schellinger, Lucky 13, Echo54g, Anima506, jacob griffin, Mitch, Cameron Youngman, TheFuzzySamurai, Grey Heart, Marc Smith, James Wood, Proxy, Kurgarraz, Tim Hall, Gal Anonim, léroy jenkins, Tobias, Jose Matos, Alex pritchard, Falk Hüser, SirSp, Sam Mbya, Alexander Amann, Man Robertson, Aaron Taylor, Mika Willems, Brian Beard, JchuckS, Wold Layman, Gee Dean, Nateica Burlock, Wildvoid, andre, Eioe, Scarletmenace, Pilot Pirx, er Ja, Thomas Dey, Asura, Gronnr, Lucas Gossett, ton Jenkins, Desote, Tristan Nadeau, Mest450, Ang, Sabypyz, charlie wagner, SwiftFate, Hedgeboar, JJ JJ, Linus Bengtssone, Mason for the support it's greatly appreciated.

  [colpse]