[When the communicator turns on, the first setting that it gets turned on to is just voice. A male voice can be heard, cursing softly.]

This shouldn’t be that hard to work. If that button does—ah, there we go.

[The voice setting is turned into video, and a young man with blond hair appears on screen.]

Well, looks like this thing is finally working. I was almost getting tempted to bash it against the wall, but the technology is too good to waste. Or was it the network? [Grins.] So, from the depths of despair we emerge, possibly victorious, possibly having made things worse.

[His grin slowly fades, and he grimaces as he looks down at his clothes.] And all this good leather wasted out in the rain... I was glad those others didn't offer their robes to the rest of us. Not something very leader-like, isn't it? More like a monk of some sort.

[He turns the camera, offering a shot of the rubble.] It's been a real joy and pleasure moving rocks, but after hearing about those airships and the bombings, I'd like to know more about those. If there's a way to fly, I want it, and I'd like it now.

Say what you will about mortality, the moment after the fear of death passes is truly a beautiful thing. I'm even feeling good about getting to move back into that tiny apartment and seeing these endless gray skies. Even the smell of smoke is almost pleasant after the smell of unwashed humanity cowering in catacombs.

[Private to Alistair]

I believe you once offered to trade training in telecommunications technology in exchange for training in the use of archaic weapons. Are you still interested in that?

I had thought that the answer was clear, but considering what we were recently put through...

I'm having difficulty deciding which one I find more insufferable between The Initiative and the United Earth.

Perhaps some of you would like to share your thoughts on the matter?

[The filter is to anyone Koltira threadjacked in Arthas's intro post, because good job being subtle about who matters to you, Koltira. Emma is posting a few hours after she felt Koltira die, just to be sure he wasn't going to dust himself off and get back to his busy schedule of sulking and manpain, since that sort of thing is a distinct possibility where she's from.

Once it appears his death is going to stick at least for a while, Emma decides to alert the next of kin, or the closest available facsimile thereof. She's looking her usual pristine self, albeit with her ever-present cold edge more pronounced than usual.]

I don't know how much this matters to any of you, but Koltira is dead. It seems he lost his grudge match with Arthas. I also don't know what any of you would plan to do about it, but I'd advise against charging off to die yourselves.

[Koltira you moron.

She doesn't yet know Transports respawn.]

[Chloe's looking a little pale today. Or really pale, and she's already pale enough as it is. It makes her look a little sick and a lot tired.] Does anyone know the number of casualties from the attack?

[There's a pause as her gaze follows something before she returns her attention to the feed. Too many dead bodies. Too many ghosts. It's an uncomfortable feeling.] Or what will happen to the bodies? I-I haven't, um... Gone looking for a cemetery. [Lol, because who would, right?] What I mean is, I... [Oh my God, Chloe, you are an idiot. She clears her throat.] Will they be buried?