Humming softly the druidess was working on a small letter to the editor for the Booty Bay times, intending to complain about the midday parties celebrating prophets that the goblins seemed to be so happy to host. She had moved here shortly after her expulsion from Section 28, hoping that she might return to her former apartment and lay low. It had at the very least let the druidess keep her ears to current affairs, and when she could she would pass along the knowledge and information gained to the appropriate parties. Though she wasn’t fighting directly in the war again the Forsaken, she felt that at the very least her contributions might help.
But as she was writing she suddenly stopped, something was terribly wrong, a whole of pain wracked her form and she went to stand clutching at her chest. It was if a piece of her had been torn away, though she could not grasp how. Images flashed before her eyes and a tear rolled down her cheek as she looked towards the door. A frown spread across her face as she straightened herself, nodding slowly and then going to gather supplies.
When her wife entered the next morning carrying the Orange and Crimson feline, there were no words that needed to be uttered, nothing that needed to be spoken between the two. Instead the druidess did the only thing she felt was proper, the manner that she had been instructed to do since her time as a child. Every Kaldorei was familiar with he ritual, as the Nightsabers were just as much a part of their lives and culture as the moon itself. A table with a number of small trinkets and items had been prepared, and a light satin cloth laid upon a table. Surrounding this were a number of candles each lit
The druidess bowed her head softly as she helped Elyxndria lay their fallen comrade across the cloth, gently going to wrap the form, speaking any number of prayers with each fold of the cloth, each tiny step measured and committed. All the while she held the hand of her beloved, squeezing at it softly as she knew the pain she bore must be beyond measure. Since the day she had first known the Sin’dorei, Ghost had been a constant and loyal companion.
There were nights that the two shared that only the Springpaw was aware of, times of weakness, sadness, and happiness only shared with the beast. So she took very special care, using a fragment of druidic magic to remove one of Ghost’s Fangs, a ritual so practices and slow, caring for the remains no different then that of a child or loved one.
Placing the fang upon a necklace she began to pray before handing over the fang and accompanying leather binding to her wife. She gave a weak smile as she spoke, “Let her watch over you now and forever as she always has” before turning away, imaging that Elynxdria had her own host of rituals she wished to perform.
Still, it was impossible not to mourn the lost of the fallen feline, in many ways Alnarra had grown so attached to the loveable beast that seeing her like this only seemed to cut into her heart. She was yet another loss in a string of losses, another death in the cruel and needless war, more then that she had grown to adopt Ghost like she was no different form one of her own saber’s
Sighing softly she went to excuse herself. She knew already the source of this death, the cause of the feline’s demise and it tore her asunder. On one hand, she had hoped that perhaps she had made some progress with Astra, some manner of reaching the person still inside; however, the feline that lay upon the table inside was more then enough proof that perhaps such efforts had utterly been in vain. All the while there was a boiling anger, beyond words, beyond thought. The rage that ran through her veins seemed to grow with each passing day, the struggle to not simply take herself to the Kul Tiran homeland and murder Orc, Troll, Sin’dorei, Forsaken, Tauren, Nightborne, Goblin and more.
She wanted nothing less then to feel the whole of her form coated in the blood them all for what had transpired, and the springpaw’s lifeless form was yet another reminder of that boiling rage. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, tried to maintain her balance. If it slipped now there was no telling if it could ever
Saturday, May 25, 2019
Embers of Solace (BFA)
The Druidess stood before the council of priestesses, countless field reports in her hand. Her face was scarred and bruised, a wound under her neck covered with a rushed bandage still soaked in her blood. Drawing her eyes to the women gathered it was clear she had not been the only one upon the field of battle. For as cruel as their conversations could sometimes get, as calamitous as it seemed their discourse might be, there was no denying that among the women gathered that protecting the Kaldorei people was among the top of all their priorities.
Leaning forward into the gentle light of the small moonwell pedestal that lit the area one of the priestesses spoke softly “So we are to understand that the horde’s intentions are simply to seize Teldrassil, is that correct?”
“That is correct Priestess” Alnarra responded with a near perfect political tone, having mastered the art of putting on a good face for those in power, “My scouts have reported that are sources among the horde and their suppliers seem to be making a direct attack against Teldrassil, their intention purely appears to be the capture of the world tree. They seem to be of the belief that we will make use of Teldrassil as a means of shipping Azerite to the rest of the Alliance.”
There was a pause as the priestesses mummered amongst themselves, gentle whispers before yet another hooded face seemed to lean forward, “Then it is safe to assume that we do not need to rush the Evacuation of the city? If the horde are to take the city we can minimize casualties by moving troops to assist and prepare for the Alliance counter attack?”
“That is my belief Madam Priestess” Alnarra spoke softly “I believe that we can begin to prepare our counter attack, to strike at the very source of the Horde incursion, that troops and troop transports near Darnassus could be seen as a greater threat and could provoke the Horde into treating the civilian population more harshly when they seize the city”
“Approximately how long until the horde are capable of attacking the city?” A rather concerned priestess asked.
“Within the hour” Alnarra responded with a gentle tone, “My forces along with a number of other Kaldorei intelligence groups have already seen to the evacuation of the High Priestess as well as her staff. It is believed the SI:7 was able to provide her and the Lord of the Forest with a means of escaping the combat zone”.
“Noted Commander Stargrove, please begin seeing to the Troop redeployment to reconcile with the 5th Sentinel fleet north of the Lordranel. You are to be given temporary field command of the Night’s Star for the remainder of this mission. See to it that the wide… tactics employed by section 28 are not wasted against these horde aggressors. You are authorized to use any means necessary to stall their attack for as long as possible”
Alnarra simply nodded, going to pull the hood back over her head, she knew in some ways that what she had just been given was a suicide order, but it was not one she was entirely opposed to. Even if the horde occupied Teldrassil, there was no guarantee of the safety of the citizens still trapped inside. Even now evacuation orders were being given and large numbers of the civilian population were being taken by ship.
The druidess began to walk down to the docks, attempting to find the ship she had been assigned to lead into battle when she heard the first round impact with the bark of the great world tree.
Looking up in horror it was immediately apparent that an attack had begun, and not one intended to end with simply holding Teldrassil. The sound of far off cannon fire, Goblin and Orcish Launchers joined the frey and soon the very night sky turned a blazing red as impact after impact could be heard, shell and explosive alike ripping through the superstructure of the World Tree above, sending splinters falling into the waters below.
There were shouts heard as a sudden panic among the sentinels became clear, the collection of citizens gathered here at Ru’Theran would be an easy target for the weapons, getting them aboard the troop vessels and away was of the most import. Feeling the crushing heat and weight of fragments of the place her people called their home crashing around her she called out for a woman and child she saw huddled nearby, attempting to rush them towards the ships in the waters below.
Alnarra watched with horror as a horde shell managed to land directly upon the top deck of the very vessel she had been assigned to command, ripping through and splintering the ironwood deck, sundering the ship in twain. She cried out in horror seeing sentinels leaping form the vessel’s decks into the water as it was rather quickly swallowed by the greed of the sea. Shaking her head she reassured the two beside her ushering them towards a nearby sentinel.
“Get them to the Star’s Fury! Get as many as we can aboard, I’m headed back into the city!” having to scream over the thunderous sound of explosion and falling debris, flaming wood seeming to dance amongst the sky like a light summer rain, ash falling from the very heavens. The clouds above now a burning mess.
Heading back towards the connecting portal into Darnassus, the sight inside the city was just as grim. The shells from the horde onslaught were already beginning to penetrate the inner most depths of the Night Elven capital, massive stone structure and wooden building alike were starting to collapse or burn. She lost herself for a moment, simply staring in horror at the sight that awaited her there, her eyes catching a large wooden beam crushing and most certainly killing a family of escaping civilians attempting to make their way for the portal.
The shouts and cries of Sentinels that only moments before were preparing to depart the island in an attempt to help spare the civilian population were now in an all out struggle to escort the very same to a point of safety. In that hailstorm deep in the night; however, there was no such point. Every moment another explosion would rip across the land, dirt, wood, and ash being kicked up at every turn. The ground shook as the druidess was thrown to the ground, coughing a bit
“Alnarra to Section 28! What the hell is happening, I thought the Horde wanted to capture Darnassus!” she screamed out over her coms, waiting for a reply she was greeted only with static. Growling softly she took to her feline form attempting to find any sign of civilian or sentinel alike who might need assistance. Seeing a small child she quickly shifted to her elven form, picking the girl up and rushing her to a nearby sentinel. The girl was crying out for her mother, tears streaming down her face leaving Alnarra to turn slowly
There before her eyes she watched as a large marble column cracked from the shifting of the earth beneath, and to the woman the child was calling to it began to tumble. The druidess reached out helplessly, but no amount of time, no amount of training could stop the next few moments. In the blink of an eye she watched the life of another snuffed out, and she could not look away.
Her eyes fixated for a moment upon the horror before her eyes, the screaming of the little girl the cries of the sentinel, a hand going to grab her by the shoulder attempting to pull her back as she continued to hold her arm outstretched for the woman who could have never grabbed it. “Mam we have to go” the sentinel ordered.
Alnarra blinked, turning around slowly as the Sentinel made about her job, carrying the child away to one of the designated evacuation zones, but the druidess stood still, it was as if her lungs had seized up, her mind had ground to a halt. The attack had come on so suddenly, the consequences felt so quickly. As the world around her began to burn to the ground she tried to find it within herself to move, but she could not.
It took a mumbled message over her intercom to spur her into action “Unit 265 has been decimated, we are unable to stop the horde bombardment! I repeat Sentinel strike force 265 has been eliminated”
As time seemed to slow down around her, the woman’s thoughts drifted not to her own safety, not even to the city. Instead she began to simply run, tears streaming down her eyes as her hood fell to her back, shifting forms hands became paws and skin fur, her feline form bounding towards a part of Darnassus more sacred to her then any other, the site of her buried family.
It did not take long to reach the Cities graveyard, but amidst the hailstorm of fire and death, it was as if to cross some horrible divide. And as she stumbled back into her elven form, grabbing at the grave she could only come to the realization of one thing… this part of the city was already engulfed in flame.
The corpses of citizen and sentinel alike lay across the ground, a testament to the blood bath occurring all around her, but she could not focus on the now, simply holding to one of the graves, “I’ll get you… out of here” she said in a panicked manner, starting to use her hands to dig at the soil beneath, “I’m going to move you… somewhere safe!” she shouted pushing away the dirt.
Perhaps in a stroke of luck, or perhaps the nature of fate, a voice disturbed her vaunted ritual, a hand dragging her back and away
“Let me go!” she commanded, tears streaming down her face as a large tree came crashing down upon the very spot she had just been digging, crushing the region and worsening the already growing fire. The site of it caused the woman to shriek as she called out “No! No My babies! You have to let me get my babies!”
The hand pulling her was silent, no doubt one of the countless defenders of the Night elven city, simply attempting to do their job. Flame licked them both as she was forced to abandon her task, left only in tears as she watched a haze of smoke, flame, and ash blanket the vision of where she had just been.
Alnarra in that moment was inconsolable, lost in thought as she began to helplessly look around, scrambling to her own two feet so that she may no longer be dragged by her mysterious savior. The sentinel, figuring she had regained her senses simply pointed in the direction of the next evacuation zone before rejoining the fight to save as many as possible from the savage fires sweeping across the land.
Walking at a defeated pace she was greeted by the sight of countless injured, the smell of burnt flesh and death. Her eyes wondered across a room of huddled frightened masses, a highborne woman near the back of the room using the very last of her strength to maintain a portal back to Darnassus, the priestesses using theirs to create a sort of shield.
With hardly a moment to think she was ushered into the room, being checked over
“She’s fine, move her through” someone shouted before she found herself being ushered towards the portal.
“No… no I’ve… I’m Alnarra Stargrove I’ve got to—”
She was cut off as she found herself roughly shoved through, the portal, a thing she had become so accustomed to over this last year swallowing her up and ripping her away from the city, the people she had sworn to defend
To greet the woman on the other side was a scene of equal chaos, dozens of portals being maintained by equally tired and drained highborne, giving their all to get as many as possible through, huddled masses of burned and injured stepping through. A makeshift ward setup to contain the whole of this disaster.
The next hours seemed but a blur, ushered one way and then the next, checked by medical professional and commoner alike before being assigned to a temporary location, and just as she thought she had found a moment to reclaim herself, to begin to wake up from the chaotic haze there was a buzzing in her ear
“Alnarra Stargrove, please report to the Stormwind Keep,” the voice was of the priestess that had given her the orders to command the Night’s star only… how long was it? How much time had passed?
Brushing herself off she did as instructed, finding herself quickly before the very same council, only now of the five who had greeted her previously only three remained. They smelled of burns and smoke, destruction and haze.
“Alnarra Stargrove,” one spoke softly, “The intelligence you have provided to this council has cost the lives of Kaldorei citizens. Your organization was unable to stop the horde advances upon our lands, unable to predict the full scale of their attack, unable to prevent this atrocity.” She blinked, looking around. Time had become so strange and lost upon her, moments bled into seconds, bled into hours, she truly could not remember how much time it had been since they last spoke.
“By order of this council you are hereby stripped of your rank as commander of Section 28,” the priestess spoke with a coldness
There was a moment when the druidess turned, blinking in confusion as she stared at the women before her
“Your access to classified documentation for the Kaldorei empire is herby revoked, your access to the resources of the Kaldorei agency known as section 28 are herby removed. You are to disavow your knowledge of the organization from this time forth”
Alnarra blinked again, rubbing at her head, feeling at the bloody rag upon it. Had she been unconscious? How long had it been her mind ached, she was unsure of what happened even as she stood before the individuals gathered.
“Do you understand” a priestess leaned forward, burns crawling up the side of her face.
The druidess mouth hung agape as she simply nodded, blinking a few times, she turned slowly feeling as a Kaldorei sentinel removed the communications device from her ear. The truth was she didn’t understand, she didn’t understand any of this. How could she have missed the horde attack, why had they begun an assault on the city? What had happened? How many days had it been since the attack. Holding her head she gave a small wheeze, collapsing to the ground.
She had gone from the commanding officer of a powerful intillegence agency to little more then a refugee of her people in what to her seemed like the blink of an eye. Darnassus had fallen, and she with it.
Huddled among the masses of her people, the woman sat, waiting as so many others were for someone to help heal her wounds, though the gravity of such extended far beyond her physical well being.
Leaning forward into the gentle light of the small moonwell pedestal that lit the area one of the priestesses spoke softly “So we are to understand that the horde’s intentions are simply to seize Teldrassil, is that correct?”
“That is correct Priestess” Alnarra responded with a near perfect political tone, having mastered the art of putting on a good face for those in power, “My scouts have reported that are sources among the horde and their suppliers seem to be making a direct attack against Teldrassil, their intention purely appears to be the capture of the world tree. They seem to be of the belief that we will make use of Teldrassil as a means of shipping Azerite to the rest of the Alliance.”
There was a pause as the priestesses mummered amongst themselves, gentle whispers before yet another hooded face seemed to lean forward, “Then it is safe to assume that we do not need to rush the Evacuation of the city? If the horde are to take the city we can minimize casualties by moving troops to assist and prepare for the Alliance counter attack?”
“That is my belief Madam Priestess” Alnarra spoke softly “I believe that we can begin to prepare our counter attack, to strike at the very source of the Horde incursion, that troops and troop transports near Darnassus could be seen as a greater threat and could provoke the Horde into treating the civilian population more harshly when they seize the city”
“Approximately how long until the horde are capable of attacking the city?” A rather concerned priestess asked.
“Within the hour” Alnarra responded with a gentle tone, “My forces along with a number of other Kaldorei intelligence groups have already seen to the evacuation of the High Priestess as well as her staff. It is believed the SI:7 was able to provide her and the Lord of the Forest with a means of escaping the combat zone”.
“Noted Commander Stargrove, please begin seeing to the Troop redeployment to reconcile with the 5th Sentinel fleet north of the Lordranel. You are to be given temporary field command of the Night’s Star for the remainder of this mission. See to it that the wide… tactics employed by section 28 are not wasted against these horde aggressors. You are authorized to use any means necessary to stall their attack for as long as possible”
Alnarra simply nodded, going to pull the hood back over her head, she knew in some ways that what she had just been given was a suicide order, but it was not one she was entirely opposed to. Even if the horde occupied Teldrassil, there was no guarantee of the safety of the citizens still trapped inside. Even now evacuation orders were being given and large numbers of the civilian population were being taken by ship.
The druidess began to walk down to the docks, attempting to find the ship she had been assigned to lead into battle when she heard the first round impact with the bark of the great world tree.
Looking up in horror it was immediately apparent that an attack had begun, and not one intended to end with simply holding Teldrassil. The sound of far off cannon fire, Goblin and Orcish Launchers joined the frey and soon the very night sky turned a blazing red as impact after impact could be heard, shell and explosive alike ripping through the superstructure of the World Tree above, sending splinters falling into the waters below.
There were shouts heard as a sudden panic among the sentinels became clear, the collection of citizens gathered here at Ru’Theran would be an easy target for the weapons, getting them aboard the troop vessels and away was of the most import. Feeling the crushing heat and weight of fragments of the place her people called their home crashing around her she called out for a woman and child she saw huddled nearby, attempting to rush them towards the ships in the waters below.
Alnarra watched with horror as a horde shell managed to land directly upon the top deck of the very vessel she had been assigned to command, ripping through and splintering the ironwood deck, sundering the ship in twain. She cried out in horror seeing sentinels leaping form the vessel’s decks into the water as it was rather quickly swallowed by the greed of the sea. Shaking her head she reassured the two beside her ushering them towards a nearby sentinel.
“Get them to the Star’s Fury! Get as many as we can aboard, I’m headed back into the city!” having to scream over the thunderous sound of explosion and falling debris, flaming wood seeming to dance amongst the sky like a light summer rain, ash falling from the very heavens. The clouds above now a burning mess.
Heading back towards the connecting portal into Darnassus, the sight inside the city was just as grim. The shells from the horde onslaught were already beginning to penetrate the inner most depths of the Night Elven capital, massive stone structure and wooden building alike were starting to collapse or burn. She lost herself for a moment, simply staring in horror at the sight that awaited her there, her eyes catching a large wooden beam crushing and most certainly killing a family of escaping civilians attempting to make their way for the portal.
The shouts and cries of Sentinels that only moments before were preparing to depart the island in an attempt to help spare the civilian population were now in an all out struggle to escort the very same to a point of safety. In that hailstorm deep in the night; however, there was no such point. Every moment another explosion would rip across the land, dirt, wood, and ash being kicked up at every turn. The ground shook as the druidess was thrown to the ground, coughing a bit
“Alnarra to Section 28! What the hell is happening, I thought the Horde wanted to capture Darnassus!” she screamed out over her coms, waiting for a reply she was greeted only with static. Growling softly she took to her feline form attempting to find any sign of civilian or sentinel alike who might need assistance. Seeing a small child she quickly shifted to her elven form, picking the girl up and rushing her to a nearby sentinel. The girl was crying out for her mother, tears streaming down her face leaving Alnarra to turn slowly
There before her eyes she watched as a large marble column cracked from the shifting of the earth beneath, and to the woman the child was calling to it began to tumble. The druidess reached out helplessly, but no amount of time, no amount of training could stop the next few moments. In the blink of an eye she watched the life of another snuffed out, and she could not look away.
Her eyes fixated for a moment upon the horror before her eyes, the screaming of the little girl the cries of the sentinel, a hand going to grab her by the shoulder attempting to pull her back as she continued to hold her arm outstretched for the woman who could have never grabbed it. “Mam we have to go” the sentinel ordered.
Alnarra blinked, turning around slowly as the Sentinel made about her job, carrying the child away to one of the designated evacuation zones, but the druidess stood still, it was as if her lungs had seized up, her mind had ground to a halt. The attack had come on so suddenly, the consequences felt so quickly. As the world around her began to burn to the ground she tried to find it within herself to move, but she could not.
It took a mumbled message over her intercom to spur her into action “Unit 265 has been decimated, we are unable to stop the horde bombardment! I repeat Sentinel strike force 265 has been eliminated”
As time seemed to slow down around her, the woman’s thoughts drifted not to her own safety, not even to the city. Instead she began to simply run, tears streaming down her eyes as her hood fell to her back, shifting forms hands became paws and skin fur, her feline form bounding towards a part of Darnassus more sacred to her then any other, the site of her buried family.
It did not take long to reach the Cities graveyard, but amidst the hailstorm of fire and death, it was as if to cross some horrible divide. And as she stumbled back into her elven form, grabbing at the grave she could only come to the realization of one thing… this part of the city was already engulfed in flame.
The corpses of citizen and sentinel alike lay across the ground, a testament to the blood bath occurring all around her, but she could not focus on the now, simply holding to one of the graves, “I’ll get you… out of here” she said in a panicked manner, starting to use her hands to dig at the soil beneath, “I’m going to move you… somewhere safe!” she shouted pushing away the dirt.
Perhaps in a stroke of luck, or perhaps the nature of fate, a voice disturbed her vaunted ritual, a hand dragging her back and away
“Let me go!” she commanded, tears streaming down her face as a large tree came crashing down upon the very spot she had just been digging, crushing the region and worsening the already growing fire. The site of it caused the woman to shriek as she called out “No! No My babies! You have to let me get my babies!”
The hand pulling her was silent, no doubt one of the countless defenders of the Night elven city, simply attempting to do their job. Flame licked them both as she was forced to abandon her task, left only in tears as she watched a haze of smoke, flame, and ash blanket the vision of where she had just been.
Alnarra in that moment was inconsolable, lost in thought as she began to helplessly look around, scrambling to her own two feet so that she may no longer be dragged by her mysterious savior. The sentinel, figuring she had regained her senses simply pointed in the direction of the next evacuation zone before rejoining the fight to save as many as possible from the savage fires sweeping across the land.
Walking at a defeated pace she was greeted by the sight of countless injured, the smell of burnt flesh and death. Her eyes wondered across a room of huddled frightened masses, a highborne woman near the back of the room using the very last of her strength to maintain a portal back to Darnassus, the priestesses using theirs to create a sort of shield.
With hardly a moment to think she was ushered into the room, being checked over
“She’s fine, move her through” someone shouted before she found herself being ushered towards the portal.
“No… no I’ve… I’m Alnarra Stargrove I’ve got to—”
She was cut off as she found herself roughly shoved through, the portal, a thing she had become so accustomed to over this last year swallowing her up and ripping her away from the city, the people she had sworn to defend
To greet the woman on the other side was a scene of equal chaos, dozens of portals being maintained by equally tired and drained highborne, giving their all to get as many as possible through, huddled masses of burned and injured stepping through. A makeshift ward setup to contain the whole of this disaster.
The next hours seemed but a blur, ushered one way and then the next, checked by medical professional and commoner alike before being assigned to a temporary location, and just as she thought she had found a moment to reclaim herself, to begin to wake up from the chaotic haze there was a buzzing in her ear
“Alnarra Stargrove, please report to the Stormwind Keep,” the voice was of the priestess that had given her the orders to command the Night’s star only… how long was it? How much time had passed?
Brushing herself off she did as instructed, finding herself quickly before the very same council, only now of the five who had greeted her previously only three remained. They smelled of burns and smoke, destruction and haze.
“Alnarra Stargrove,” one spoke softly, “The intelligence you have provided to this council has cost the lives of Kaldorei citizens. Your organization was unable to stop the horde advances upon our lands, unable to predict the full scale of their attack, unable to prevent this atrocity.” She blinked, looking around. Time had become so strange and lost upon her, moments bled into seconds, bled into hours, she truly could not remember how much time it had been since they last spoke.
“By order of this council you are hereby stripped of your rank as commander of Section 28,” the priestess spoke with a coldness
There was a moment when the druidess turned, blinking in confusion as she stared at the women before her
“Your access to classified documentation for the Kaldorei empire is herby revoked, your access to the resources of the Kaldorei agency known as section 28 are herby removed. You are to disavow your knowledge of the organization from this time forth”
Alnarra blinked again, rubbing at her head, feeling at the bloody rag upon it. Had she been unconscious? How long had it been her mind ached, she was unsure of what happened even as she stood before the individuals gathered.
“Do you understand” a priestess leaned forward, burns crawling up the side of her face.
The druidess mouth hung agape as she simply nodded, blinking a few times, she turned slowly feeling as a Kaldorei sentinel removed the communications device from her ear. The truth was she didn’t understand, she didn’t understand any of this. How could she have missed the horde attack, why had they begun an assault on the city? What had happened? How many days had it been since the attack. Holding her head she gave a small wheeze, collapsing to the ground.
She had gone from the commanding officer of a powerful intillegence agency to little more then a refugee of her people in what to her seemed like the blink of an eye. Darnassus had fallen, and she with it.
Huddled among the masses of her people, the woman sat, waiting as so many others were for someone to help heal her wounds, though the gravity of such extended far beyond her physical well being.
In Purgatory's Shadow (BFA)
-CLANK-
The sound of thundering steel against elegant elven ironwood and leather. Another of her sisters cried out as an orcish blade cut her down, the druidess head turned momentarily only to feel the brunt of a Tauren’s hammer slam into her chest throwing her into a nearby tree. Standing slowly she wiped the blood from her lip and stared the towering warrior in the eyes, grasping her glaive and hoisting herself to her feet, for only moments later a series of arrows to slice through the hulking Tauren’s form.
“Move commander, we will have to fall back, there’s no way we can hold this position” one of her subordinates called out
-THWANG-
The sound of more arrows ripping through the sky, piercing more of the Orcish and Forsaken troops, giving the druidess precious time to escape. She scrambled to her feet blending back into the shadows as her people had been so used to. Cradling her side and seeing the blood running between her fingers she shook her head gently closing her eyes and hobbling to a nearby outpost still held by her people.
Looking around her the sight caused her heart to sink. The coldness that wrapped the spymistress could in no way prepare her for the cries. She knew that the Forsaken had chosen not to spare Woman, Man, nor Child in Ashenvale, but to see it laid out so plainly before her, a father weeping over his lost daughters, a child calling out for her An’do, it caused her ears to wilt as she looked away.
-BEEP-
“Commander” a voice called over the small intercom “We’ve lost another contingent of sentinels near the norther ridge of the Glaive” there was a long pause as Alnarra’s hand went to her ear, trying to drown out the cries of the dying and injured behind her as she frowned deeply
“Commander, how did we miss this?” the voice asked calmly
“I… I don’t know,” she whispered in response going to sit down gently trying to catch her breath, glancing occasionally to a small Kaldorei girl, a stuffed saber in her hand, one of the little button eyes barely attached, soaked in Kaldorei blood. She didn’t move, she didn’t speak, she did not cry, she seemed to simply stare at the little stuffed saber
“There are no answers there little one” she whispered to herself coughing a bit as she wiped more blood from her lips. Rolling her eyes she went to stand, placing her hand upon her side, calling upon her druidic magic to quickly stabilize the various wounds she had sustained. While she was certainly not in perfect condition, at the very least it returned to her the ability to fight and right now that was what her people needed more then anything else.
Beyond all that she could not stand to look at this huddled group of Kaldorei, to listen to the screams and cries of her people, civilian and soldier alike. It had been her charge to ensure that such a day never came, yet the day was upon her and she had failed… utterly.
They were confident that the horde scouts near Ashenvale were nearly to determine where their current forces were, to see them launch a brutal full assault upon Astannar, sweeping up every outpost and village in their path was beyond unexpected, and their brutality knew no bounds.
The casualty count was still spilling in, and even then the numbers of those missing seemed to only grow greater by the very minute. Sighing softly she took on her feline form, stepping into the all too familiar forest, now heavy with the smell of blood, smoke, and gunpowder. Coughing gently she climbed into a nearby tree, staring outwards towards the area that only moments ago had been the front line. The Darnassian navy in it’s full might had been recalled, but even they may not be capable of preventing this onslaught.
It seemed the Horde were almost more endless then the legion itself and the remainder of the Alliance forces would not arrive in nearly enough time. As she gave a frustrated growl the skies themselves seemed to open up, a torrent of rain beating down upon the land, as if nature herself was crying over the havok that lay before.
Growling in frustration, even amongst the endless waves of rain the small communications device in her ear continued to ring. Sentinel units calling for aid, druids reporting their injured and dead, her own unit reporting that yet another location had been compromised by overwhelming numbers. Her claw reached out and slashed at the bark of the tree, letting out a defeated sigh before shaking her head. Stopping in an impossible situation wasn’t really her strong suit and nothing about that was changing today.
Roaring she made her way down the tree, if her people were to be pushed back into the depths of their homelands, they would not do so without a fight. The horde would soon learn the ferocity of the Great Kaldorei Empire, be made to understand why it’s people ruled all of Azeroth for nearly 5000 years, be forced to fight the great warriors of the night.
And so back into the fray the druidess ran, showing any orc, Tauren, Goblin, Troll or forsaken the true meaning of the Night Warrior’s grace. If nature was going to shed tears over the blood of the fallen, she wished to ensure the majority of those fallen were her enemies.
“This is the commanding officer of Section 28. You are authorized to use any and all available resources at your disposal. Do not hold back until the Horde are driven from these lands. For the glory of the Kaldorei Empire!” she called out over the coms, roaring into battle, a battle that would surely stain these grounds for years to come.
The sound of thundering steel against elegant elven ironwood and leather. Another of her sisters cried out as an orcish blade cut her down, the druidess head turned momentarily only to feel the brunt of a Tauren’s hammer slam into her chest throwing her into a nearby tree. Standing slowly she wiped the blood from her lip and stared the towering warrior in the eyes, grasping her glaive and hoisting herself to her feet, for only moments later a series of arrows to slice through the hulking Tauren’s form.
“Move commander, we will have to fall back, there’s no way we can hold this position” one of her subordinates called out
-THWANG-
The sound of more arrows ripping through the sky, piercing more of the Orcish and Forsaken troops, giving the druidess precious time to escape. She scrambled to her feet blending back into the shadows as her people had been so used to. Cradling her side and seeing the blood running between her fingers she shook her head gently closing her eyes and hobbling to a nearby outpost still held by her people.
Looking around her the sight caused her heart to sink. The coldness that wrapped the spymistress could in no way prepare her for the cries. She knew that the Forsaken had chosen not to spare Woman, Man, nor Child in Ashenvale, but to see it laid out so plainly before her, a father weeping over his lost daughters, a child calling out for her An’do, it caused her ears to wilt as she looked away.
-BEEP-
“Commander” a voice called over the small intercom “We’ve lost another contingent of sentinels near the norther ridge of the Glaive” there was a long pause as Alnarra’s hand went to her ear, trying to drown out the cries of the dying and injured behind her as she frowned deeply
“Commander, how did we miss this?” the voice asked calmly
“I… I don’t know,” she whispered in response going to sit down gently trying to catch her breath, glancing occasionally to a small Kaldorei girl, a stuffed saber in her hand, one of the little button eyes barely attached, soaked in Kaldorei blood. She didn’t move, she didn’t speak, she did not cry, she seemed to simply stare at the little stuffed saber
“There are no answers there little one” she whispered to herself coughing a bit as she wiped more blood from her lips. Rolling her eyes she went to stand, placing her hand upon her side, calling upon her druidic magic to quickly stabilize the various wounds she had sustained. While she was certainly not in perfect condition, at the very least it returned to her the ability to fight and right now that was what her people needed more then anything else.
Beyond all that she could not stand to look at this huddled group of Kaldorei, to listen to the screams and cries of her people, civilian and soldier alike. It had been her charge to ensure that such a day never came, yet the day was upon her and she had failed… utterly.
They were confident that the horde scouts near Ashenvale were nearly to determine where their current forces were, to see them launch a brutal full assault upon Astannar, sweeping up every outpost and village in their path was beyond unexpected, and their brutality knew no bounds.
The casualty count was still spilling in, and even then the numbers of those missing seemed to only grow greater by the very minute. Sighing softly she took on her feline form, stepping into the all too familiar forest, now heavy with the smell of blood, smoke, and gunpowder. Coughing gently she climbed into a nearby tree, staring outwards towards the area that only moments ago had been the front line. The Darnassian navy in it’s full might had been recalled, but even they may not be capable of preventing this onslaught.
It seemed the Horde were almost more endless then the legion itself and the remainder of the Alliance forces would not arrive in nearly enough time. As she gave a frustrated growl the skies themselves seemed to open up, a torrent of rain beating down upon the land, as if nature herself was crying over the havok that lay before.
Growling in frustration, even amongst the endless waves of rain the small communications device in her ear continued to ring. Sentinel units calling for aid, druids reporting their injured and dead, her own unit reporting that yet another location had been compromised by overwhelming numbers. Her claw reached out and slashed at the bark of the tree, letting out a defeated sigh before shaking her head. Stopping in an impossible situation wasn’t really her strong suit and nothing about that was changing today.
Roaring she made her way down the tree, if her people were to be pushed back into the depths of their homelands, they would not do so without a fight. The horde would soon learn the ferocity of the Great Kaldorei Empire, be made to understand why it’s people ruled all of Azeroth for nearly 5000 years, be forced to fight the great warriors of the night.
And so back into the fray the druidess ran, showing any orc, Tauren, Goblin, Troll or forsaken the true meaning of the Night Warrior’s grace. If nature was going to shed tears over the blood of the fallen, she wished to ensure the majority of those fallen were her enemies.
“This is the commanding officer of Section 28. You are authorized to use any and all available resources at your disposal. Do not hold back until the Horde are driven from these lands. For the glory of the Kaldorei Empire!” she called out over the coms, roaring into battle, a battle that would surely stain these grounds for years to come.
Tinkerer Mother Doctor Spy (BFA)
The rain beat down hard upon the position that the Section 28 operatives had taken up, the druidess sat upon a muddy rock holding steady as she stared directly ahead. For the past 6 months, Section 28 operatives had been spending weeks attempting to maintain the fragile peace that had been achieved following the legion’s removal from Azeroth, but in these waning hours it seemed like the peace was on the edge of it’s collapse.
It seemed no matter how many war hawks, no matter the number of goblin shipments, no matter the number of attempted peace envoys and secretive missions attempting to guide the world a different direction it made little difference. Alnarra had watched as over the past few weeks Horde forces with their new found allies the NIghtborne and the Highmountain had made a steady march towards the more sacred among the Kaldorei lands.
She had urged the council early on that more supplies and troops would be required if there was to be any hope of keeping this aggression in check; however, each time she addressed it with the council she had been reminded that her place was to maintain the peace without the disruption of the current position for society, that if the people were to know that Section 28 was eliminating officials on both sides of the equation that were pushing for war it would be more then clear that something was amiss.
In truth Alnarra always believed that so long as the kingdoms were piloted by the likes of Greymane and Sylvanas there was little hope of maintain a fragile peace, but each time she so much as thought about submitting a mission to the council it was quickly struck down. Any high level interference would be noticed without question and more then that following a devastating series of losses during the Legion invasion it was doubtful that even with the whole of the combined Kaldorei Intillegence agencies there would be enough resources between them to tackle such an ambitious goal. And so now as the heavy thunder boomed in the distance the druidess gave a heavy sigh, holding tight to the ironwood lance in her hands.
“We expect they will overrun the outrunners and the Huntresses within the hour” Kyandre, her most trusted assistant especially on military and combat matters, reported softly as the dull roar of an ongoing fight raged somewhere just beyond the trees. “Without reinforcements there is no chance that they’ll be able to fall back to their positions in Darkshore. Striking now would at the very least ensure this unit makes it safely across the line and meets up with general Feathermoon’s larger force up the river.
There was a heavy sigh as the woman nodded, “Take Zevi, Emma, and the rest but don’t stay in the area too long, the last thing we need is the horde following you back. Keep an eye out for those forsaken archers, their aim is somewhat impeccable ever since the Nightborne began aiding them more sophisticated arcane weaponry and armor. “I’ll move down the river and see if I can’t at the very least get the troll and Tauren scouts to attempt to track me and the rest of the unit. If nothing else it will keep them off the outrunner’s tails.”
There was a gentle nod between the two as they shook hands, knowing that each time they engaged in a mission like this there was a non-zero chance that they weren’t going to becoming back from it. So the two pulled up their hoods and used the shadows so familiar to every night elf to move about the familiar forest, the air thick and heavy with the scent of rain and ash, burnt trees now scarred the landscape and the sound of shredders could sometimes be heard edging ever closer to the most sacred lands of what remained of the Kaldorei empire.
Things were bad, though if the general public knew how bad, perhaps they would not be so complacent following the destruction of the legion. Nearly every intelligence agency amongst the Alliance from SI:7 to Section 28 had all been attempting to thwart what was growing to become inevitable. Countless mission trying to stem the tides of war, to silence the drum beat that grew with a steady rhythm. The Banshee queen’s actions since the dark Titan’s sword had plunged into the sands of silithus had grown ever more hostile. Word of princess Menethil’s death had largely been kept secret from the general public, no doubt knowledge that the banshee queen had murdered her would bring about foul blood for all those involved.
Even amongst Section 28, Alnarra wasn’t fully aware of the situation, the internal affairs of the empire proving to be more then a nuisance enough to keep her busy. She had been so weighed down in meetings and missions that she had lost track of all sense of time, of herself even. Finding herself rather unwelcome aboard the vessel she had once called home she barely even had time to meet with her beloved wife, Elynxdria, their ability to see each other limited to barely a scant few days in booty bay. Her only place seemed to be as the head of Section 28, she had been in many respect deprived of any other sense of purpose.
She found her hands coated in the blood from countless operations over the last year and a half, demon, orc, and threats to the Kaldorei empire alike stained her conscious. Somehow she had managed to at least ignore all the matters she agreed to be the public face of, convincing herself that so long as she was doing it for the greater good, that so long as the means justified the ends, that she could not question the matter. But now as all her efforts were laid out before her and the drums of war beat endlessly she could not help but give a deep frown of concern.
Even now, silently, wordlessly, the beating drum echoed, the lightning cracked, the winds beat down rain and ash upon the face of all those on the battlefield as if Azeroth herself wept for a future that seemed without question. The druidess moved with her small band of agents, jumping from tree to tree, branch to branch, attempting to ensure that it was their forms and scents that would lead the Tauren and troll trackers astray if the sentinels were given the chance to flee from their falling outpost.
Even the best strategist amongst the Kaldorei knew that without the full force of the Alliance it would be impossible to maintain a long-term conflict with the likes of the full force of the Horde. Were it just the Orcs or the Tauren perhaps such a thing could be prevented, but with a seemingly endless number of troops the weary forces of the Kaldorei seemed to find themselves getting routed at every corner.
Alnarra felt she should have known that the attacks in Desolace, Ferelas, and Ashenvale were but a precursor of a greater war to come, but she could never have predicted the end goals of her opponent. No matter how many agents she had managed to seed throughout the horde, attempting to gain access to the battle plan that they were executing on this cold, solemn night was all but impossible to obtain. Wrapped in secrecy and guile the best agents of all of the intelligence agencies had been unable to unravel the mysteries that no doubt spelled a terrible fate for those who stood in the way of the Banshee queen’s goals.
And so as the familiar dance of arrow, magic, steel, and ironwood sounded against the clash of thunder and war machine alike, the druidess lost a bit more of herself to the combat, turning off her worries and her concerns so that she had a better chance of trying to achieve success, of trying to make sure as many survived this night as possible. A cut across the arm, then the face, a slash to the stomach and a narrowly avoided blow to the throat. They left the druidess bloodied and tired, all but limping as she and her small unit of agents attempted to lead the horde away from the battlefield at large, giving the sentinels just a few hours to fall back to darkshore for a battle that would no doubt spell death and destruction.
The hours grew few and the day quiet. The storm overhead drowned out by the clash of troll and elf. The conflict continued without question, the war raged on, and it was as plain as day that the defeat of the legion was but the beginning of a new chapter of bloodshed and violence.
It seemed no matter how many war hawks, no matter the number of goblin shipments, no matter the number of attempted peace envoys and secretive missions attempting to guide the world a different direction it made little difference. Alnarra had watched as over the past few weeks Horde forces with their new found allies the NIghtborne and the Highmountain had made a steady march towards the more sacred among the Kaldorei lands.
She had urged the council early on that more supplies and troops would be required if there was to be any hope of keeping this aggression in check; however, each time she addressed it with the council she had been reminded that her place was to maintain the peace without the disruption of the current position for society, that if the people were to know that Section 28 was eliminating officials on both sides of the equation that were pushing for war it would be more then clear that something was amiss.
In truth Alnarra always believed that so long as the kingdoms were piloted by the likes of Greymane and Sylvanas there was little hope of maintain a fragile peace, but each time she so much as thought about submitting a mission to the council it was quickly struck down. Any high level interference would be noticed without question and more then that following a devastating series of losses during the Legion invasion it was doubtful that even with the whole of the combined Kaldorei Intillegence agencies there would be enough resources between them to tackle such an ambitious goal. And so now as the heavy thunder boomed in the distance the druidess gave a heavy sigh, holding tight to the ironwood lance in her hands.
“We expect they will overrun the outrunners and the Huntresses within the hour” Kyandre, her most trusted assistant especially on military and combat matters, reported softly as the dull roar of an ongoing fight raged somewhere just beyond the trees. “Without reinforcements there is no chance that they’ll be able to fall back to their positions in Darkshore. Striking now would at the very least ensure this unit makes it safely across the line and meets up with general Feathermoon’s larger force up the river.
There was a heavy sigh as the woman nodded, “Take Zevi, Emma, and the rest but don’t stay in the area too long, the last thing we need is the horde following you back. Keep an eye out for those forsaken archers, their aim is somewhat impeccable ever since the Nightborne began aiding them more sophisticated arcane weaponry and armor. “I’ll move down the river and see if I can’t at the very least get the troll and Tauren scouts to attempt to track me and the rest of the unit. If nothing else it will keep them off the outrunner’s tails.”
There was a gentle nod between the two as they shook hands, knowing that each time they engaged in a mission like this there was a non-zero chance that they weren’t going to becoming back from it. So the two pulled up their hoods and used the shadows so familiar to every night elf to move about the familiar forest, the air thick and heavy with the scent of rain and ash, burnt trees now scarred the landscape and the sound of shredders could sometimes be heard edging ever closer to the most sacred lands of what remained of the Kaldorei empire.
Things were bad, though if the general public knew how bad, perhaps they would not be so complacent following the destruction of the legion. Nearly every intelligence agency amongst the Alliance from SI:7 to Section 28 had all been attempting to thwart what was growing to become inevitable. Countless mission trying to stem the tides of war, to silence the drum beat that grew with a steady rhythm. The Banshee queen’s actions since the dark Titan’s sword had plunged into the sands of silithus had grown ever more hostile. Word of princess Menethil’s death had largely been kept secret from the general public, no doubt knowledge that the banshee queen had murdered her would bring about foul blood for all those involved.
Even amongst Section 28, Alnarra wasn’t fully aware of the situation, the internal affairs of the empire proving to be more then a nuisance enough to keep her busy. She had been so weighed down in meetings and missions that she had lost track of all sense of time, of herself even. Finding herself rather unwelcome aboard the vessel she had once called home she barely even had time to meet with her beloved wife, Elynxdria, their ability to see each other limited to barely a scant few days in booty bay. Her only place seemed to be as the head of Section 28, she had been in many respect deprived of any other sense of purpose.
She found her hands coated in the blood from countless operations over the last year and a half, demon, orc, and threats to the Kaldorei empire alike stained her conscious. Somehow she had managed to at least ignore all the matters she agreed to be the public face of, convincing herself that so long as she was doing it for the greater good, that so long as the means justified the ends, that she could not question the matter. But now as all her efforts were laid out before her and the drums of war beat endlessly she could not help but give a deep frown of concern.
Even now, silently, wordlessly, the beating drum echoed, the lightning cracked, the winds beat down rain and ash upon the face of all those on the battlefield as if Azeroth herself wept for a future that seemed without question. The druidess moved with her small band of agents, jumping from tree to tree, branch to branch, attempting to ensure that it was their forms and scents that would lead the Tauren and troll trackers astray if the sentinels were given the chance to flee from their falling outpost.
Even the best strategist amongst the Kaldorei knew that without the full force of the Alliance it would be impossible to maintain a long-term conflict with the likes of the full force of the Horde. Were it just the Orcs or the Tauren perhaps such a thing could be prevented, but with a seemingly endless number of troops the weary forces of the Kaldorei seemed to find themselves getting routed at every corner.
Alnarra felt she should have known that the attacks in Desolace, Ferelas, and Ashenvale were but a precursor of a greater war to come, but she could never have predicted the end goals of her opponent. No matter how many agents she had managed to seed throughout the horde, attempting to gain access to the battle plan that they were executing on this cold, solemn night was all but impossible to obtain. Wrapped in secrecy and guile the best agents of all of the intelligence agencies had been unable to unravel the mysteries that no doubt spelled a terrible fate for those who stood in the way of the Banshee queen’s goals.
And so as the familiar dance of arrow, magic, steel, and ironwood sounded against the clash of thunder and war machine alike, the druidess lost a bit more of herself to the combat, turning off her worries and her concerns so that she had a better chance of trying to achieve success, of trying to make sure as many survived this night as possible. A cut across the arm, then the face, a slash to the stomach and a narrowly avoided blow to the throat. They left the druidess bloodied and tired, all but limping as she and her small unit of agents attempted to lead the horde away from the battlefield at large, giving the sentinels just a few hours to fall back to darkshore for a battle that would no doubt spell death and destruction.
The hours grew few and the day quiet. The storm overhead drowned out by the clash of troll and elf. The conflict continued without question, the war raged on, and it was as plain as day that the defeat of the legion was but the beginning of a new chapter of bloodshed and violence.
Broken Mirror (Legion)
A gentle wave breaking in the distance, the light of the moon cast upon the cloudless night as the Storm Glaive sailed across the ocean blue. Atop her deck a lone druidess sat wrapped in a set of leather armor, crafted with strange ironwood spikes, dipped in an unknown substance. A soft sigh escaped the woman as her eyes caught sight of a small fish jumping from the water.
“Do you know what you’re supposed to do tiny fish?” she pondered, her fingers tapping across the railing, tiny sprouts budding at each tap. “Do you have a goddess whom you ask for advice? Does she speak to you? Mine does not often speak to me” there was a frown that followed as she pulled herself away from the railing to wipe her eyes. She had tried to get some sleep but it only ended in tossing and turning, her ears seemed to be ringing.
She had solved her relationship woes, but what had that gotten her? A world where her fiancee was convinced that she was breaking under the pressure of her medical responsibilities? It didn’t make sense in the elf’s head. She had been raised to believe in the might, the glory of the Elven empire. There was a truth to her existence that none could match the Kaldorei, something that her mother and father had both told her despite their disagreements, this idea that they were eternal… and now.
Creek
The ship listed softly to one side, the waves giving a gentle reminder that they were simply upon a fancy wooden box, that the elements could toss them to the depths at any moment if they wished. The druidess had finally gotten used to this, the constant movement beneath her feet, the knowledge that solid ground lay below leagues of water. It was unsettling to her at times, but truly no different then having the wind beneath her feathers in a more avian state.
Traveling deeper into the depths of the Kaldorei vessel, the dim lighting for the Kaldorei’s more nocturnal vision as she turned corner after corner making her way to the lab which she had come in many ways to call home. The experiments, the notes, they lined the wall still like a collection of conspiracy theories all strewn together with string, held in place only by whispers and a need to find answers.
She thought, no she prayed that the reason for her sorrow and suffering, the loss of every single one she called family had been with purpose. That there was a reason for all of this, that the goddess had a plan for the forlorn elf, but alas it seemed with every avenue she pursued she was met with only another brick wall. The woman she called sister and friend, Alice still lay ill with an affliction that evaded all that Alnarra had worked towards. No matter the work she seemed to expend in combatting the disease it was not enough and she knew that if she could not produce an answer soon her friend would pass as so many others had before.
She would like to think she had somehow gotten used to the idea of death but how is it that anyone could grow accustomed to that wretched pain? To see the ones that you loved placed under the ground never to rise again? How could anyone bear this pain? How did the humans and the dwarves and all the others find a way to cope with this horror? Her people were immortal yet she had watched more of her brothers and sisters in arms laid to rest in the past 10 years then the past 5,000.
She worried how she would manage when her lover did finally succumb to her own mortality. Would she even be capable of managing that? Would she break as she had when those soldiers had come to her door? Would she flee into would, become that monster once more? Would she need to be saved once more?
These questions annoyed her, she could not even find sadness in these questions any more, they were just facts that she had to contend with. She could not save Elynxdria, she could not save Alice, she could only continue to work… except that was not what Elynxdria wished. The elf that would stand with her through the Wrathgate itself instead sought now to convince her to give up this chase, all these experiments and theories, for fear that it was taking away from her health. She couldn’t though, she had made a promise with herself and the goddess.
She was a doctor, it was her mission to save people, no matter the cost to herself. She could save her children or her husband, so she must make penance for that fact by devoting all of herself to the care of others. So she marched to the shine she had built in this lab of hers lit the small purple candles, the wax now melted to almost nothing but the wick. Her eyes drifted to the statue of the Goddess which she kneeled before as she had so many times before asking for advice, for guidance, for a sign, or perhaps more then that a sense of hope.
Closing her eyes and blowing out the candles yet once more the druidess looked around the lab and could only shake her head. She could not bear to be in this place, it only reminded her of a job she had yet to complete, and right now, more than that she needed answers. So she left, locked the door and made her way to the mess. Breaking into the cabinets as she had almost grown accustomed to, Zevi had been selfish with the supplies of canned fish forcing her to grow more and more inventive with her ways of recovering it.
Calling upon druidic magics she started to shape one of her fingers into a more feline like claw, poking it into the top of the can to start to recover her prize. Wiggling her nose a bit she drained the oil and true to her mannerless roots just shoved her face in the can. Licking her lips and enjoying a fresh can of some kind of strange grouper she tossed it away and looked around for any other kind of late night snack. Rummaging through the apples which had been carefully sealed away for Uaine she finally found what she was looking for, a candy bar.
Unwrapping it and taking a seat at one of the tables she chewed on it slowly, savoring each bite. Her ears twitching as she gave almost a moan of pleasure at the mixture of sugar, chocolate, nuts, and honey. It wasn’t exactly fine dining, or a freshly cooked serving of crab and shrimp, but for tonight it would be her relief from the world.
Pulling out a small gnomish device she checked the time. Elynxdria was still asleep at these hours, that much she was sure of, but… perhaps she could sneak into the room without waking her. Wondering around the mostly empty ship, nearly tripping over an empty bucket. Grumbling a bit she found Ghost and Summerblade passed out happily atop their caretaker who seemed to be resting well. Leaning down she gave the woman a soft kiss as she started going through her own trunk, looking for items to help her, and there buried in all of it, a broken hand mirror.
She couldn’t recall exactly when she had broken the small mirror… had it been her time with the Devilclaw? It didn’t matter, but for some reason she couldn’t let go of it, the little object meant something to her, though what that was she could not say, it was just.. important. Biting her lip she tucked it back into her trunk and shut the wooden chest quietly, gently running a hand across the sleeping Feline’s backs before slinging a small pack across her back.
She needed answers to her questions, but they were not going to come to her here, where she was not sure. So without a word she took off into the night sky, her large purple wings carrying her across the night bag in tow. She was going to cure her friend somehow..
Reason (Warlords of Draenor)
As the druidess held the exhausted Draenei in her arms, she gave a small, very tired smirk, rocking her slowly her eyes tired, heavy, and wet with tears. The girl had been arguing earlier about some of the crew and Alnarra had stepped in, and she hoped, at least shown the young Saphilyn that there were better ways to go about things. As she held her tightly a gentle rhythm to that rocking, practiced and self-assured, the Kaldorei mother of three slowly made her way below decks, a little sigh escaping her before she found the bunk. Then with that same dedicated motherly love she moved the covers and laid the resting woman down patting her head and pulling a small stuffed saber form her satchel, tucking it into the covers with her. Fluffing the pillow and planting a soft kiss on the woman’s forehead.
It was something that was so natural, so second nature to her that she didn’t even think about it until she was back on deck. The Draenei girl was not a child, but a 94 year old vindicator. Their fight had been over the horrors of the world and to prove her point Alnarra had evoked memories that she tried to keep buried. Reminders to herself that everyone whom she had known by blood lay resting in a grave on a faraway land. Letting out a shuttering sigh she found quiet place and let her form slide down the wall before putting her face into her knees and allowing a shuddering sob to escape her.
She wasn’t truly upset about the fight, or even the memories, it was simply an emotionally charged day and she needed a moment to just let it all out. Her feet and toes flexed as she hummed softly to herself. Looking down the hallway she spotted her own room, and the temptation to return there, to push herself into the silken sheets with her Sin’dorei fiancée made their way through the druidess mind, but right now she needed to sort this out with her own strength.
Araane had landed aboard the vessel, evoking a variety of emotions in their personal conversation, then being thinking about the Shifting Sands, Her Children, and everything else. It was a pressure that the druidess needed to release in some way, and then her eyes glinted back to the room with the Draenei she had just tucked into bed.
There was a firmness in her commitment, not wanting to raise a child in this time of war, not wanting them to suffer through what would no doubt be unimaginable horrors. She could not bring herself to allow such a thing, not as they were, not before the world started to mend; however, for those young ones, those little ones without a home or family, she felt a responsibility. She grew fearful of the number of people that seemed to associate her with motherly doting, but in that moment, watching the tired, emotionally drained Saphilyn rest she somehow felt… reassured.
She wasn’t just a mother for Gwen, Felenae, Lithiaris, or, Laesonia, she was a mother to any who needed her. She wasn’t just a momma cat, but the mother cat. That could be her mission on this voyage, to find the stranded and the lost, the hopeless and unsure, and to remind them that even amidst the chaos of war and destruction the motherly love she had been so deprived of as a child, that these orphans of a splintered, fractured, hopeless world could find in her.
Scared to get so close to the array of young humans, Draenei, and elves that came to her for advice she took a deep breath thinking to herself, “Maybe this is my purpose, maybe this is what the Goddess has chosen me for”. Looking down at the locket clutched tightly in her hands she leaned down and kissed it, “Then I will look after them for you… all of them” laughing softly as she closed her eyes and let the little tears flow down her cheeks.
“I’m scared Goddess” she admitted quietly in the shadowy depths of the Storm Glaive’s hull, tucked away as the crew rested, “I don’t know if you have truly… or if I am reading into this wrong, or perhaps that I am just being arrogant, but I have to believe… for me, that this is what you wish me to do, and if that is so then I will give my everything as I have always done in your name. I beg of you to give me the strength I need to protect these little ones, all of them, wherever we go, wherever the Storm Glaive, or my life takes me. I know… I know I failed as a mother for my little ones, but I refuse to let myself fail here” she whimpered quietly, rubbing at her eyes and nose, “I just want to do what is right”
x
It was something that was so natural, so second nature to her that she didn’t even think about it until she was back on deck. The Draenei girl was not a child, but a 94 year old vindicator. Their fight had been over the horrors of the world and to prove her point Alnarra had evoked memories that she tried to keep buried. Reminders to herself that everyone whom she had known by blood lay resting in a grave on a faraway land. Letting out a shuttering sigh she found quiet place and let her form slide down the wall before putting her face into her knees and allowing a shuddering sob to escape her.
She wasn’t truly upset about the fight, or even the memories, it was simply an emotionally charged day and she needed a moment to just let it all out. Her feet and toes flexed as she hummed softly to herself. Looking down the hallway she spotted her own room, and the temptation to return there, to push herself into the silken sheets with her Sin’dorei fiancée made their way through the druidess mind, but right now she needed to sort this out with her own strength.
Araane had landed aboard the vessel, evoking a variety of emotions in their personal conversation, then being thinking about the Shifting Sands, Her Children, and everything else. It was a pressure that the druidess needed to release in some way, and then her eyes glinted back to the room with the Draenei she had just tucked into bed.
There was a firmness in her commitment, not wanting to raise a child in this time of war, not wanting them to suffer through what would no doubt be unimaginable horrors. She could not bring herself to allow such a thing, not as they were, not before the world started to mend; however, for those young ones, those little ones without a home or family, she felt a responsibility. She grew fearful of the number of people that seemed to associate her with motherly doting, but in that moment, watching the tired, emotionally drained Saphilyn rest she somehow felt… reassured.
She wasn’t just a mother for Gwen, Felenae, Lithiaris, or, Laesonia, she was a mother to any who needed her. She wasn’t just a momma cat, but the mother cat. That could be her mission on this voyage, to find the stranded and the lost, the hopeless and unsure, and to remind them that even amidst the chaos of war and destruction the motherly love she had been so deprived of as a child, that these orphans of a splintered, fractured, hopeless world could find in her.
Scared to get so close to the array of young humans, Draenei, and elves that came to her for advice she took a deep breath thinking to herself, “Maybe this is my purpose, maybe this is what the Goddess has chosen me for”. Looking down at the locket clutched tightly in her hands she leaned down and kissed it, “Then I will look after them for you… all of them” laughing softly as she closed her eyes and let the little tears flow down her cheeks.
“I’m scared Goddess” she admitted quietly in the shadowy depths of the Storm Glaive’s hull, tucked away as the crew rested, “I don’t know if you have truly… or if I am reading into this wrong, or perhaps that I am just being arrogant, but I have to believe… for me, that this is what you wish me to do, and if that is so then I will give my everything as I have always done in your name. I beg of you to give me the strength I need to protect these little ones, all of them, wherever we go, wherever the Storm Glaive, or my life takes me. I know… I know I failed as a mother for my little ones, but I refuse to let myself fail here” she whimpered quietly, rubbing at her eyes and nose, “I just want to do what is right”
x
Monday, May 13, 2019
A bearly thought out trap (Warlords of Draenor)
The druidess hauled the heavy bag through various outpost. Tagged on the outside it was a clear Kaldorei marker letting others know that inside the individual was deceased. Anyone who checked the body bag would find the corpse of one Araane Stormwarder, cleverly disguised under a fair amount of Fae Magic. The druidess would haul the bag for countless hours taking more confusing paths the most might imagine, each step checked and rechecked with Fae magic, the handy sprite darter ensuring that in this case she was followed by no one.
A sound had gone out, the only Underboss of the Devilclaw still actively in service as she declared in a cold voice “Time of Death 2:32 Hours Ironforge Standard time. Until Further notice, I am assuming command operations of the Devilclaw and pursuing an investigation into the murder of Araane Stomrwarder”
She knew that her rouse would not last under a great deal of scrutiny, her medical team, the newblood Kas, Azaerl, and Cali were all very aware that the Ursine leader of the Devilclaw still drew breath, but it was the Druidess hope that their stones were being monitored, that their operations had been compromised enough that she could use this moment to turn the cults or whatever this was against them.
Alnarra didn’t have much knowledge at running any kind of criminal operations and certainly not the empire that the Devilclaw had come to regain in the past year, but she knew how to fight cults. This for her was the very core of her knowledge base, thriving in dismantling and destroying them. For the first time in a while she felt as if she had more then purpose, she had a clear understanding of the situation.
So she made her way into the quiet tree line of Duskwood, the former home of the Devilclaw, and over many a broken branch and limb, through hush forest she carried the Devilclaw’s true leader to a safe house of which the location was known to none but herself.
Passing the simple mason work wall and traveling inside she was quick to find a bedroom stocked full with Medical supplies and more then enough for her to look after her compatriot druidess. Setting her down in the bed, she unzipped the bag and pulled back the covers, going to strip the other druidess down and give a painstaking examination to ensure there were no other wounds then the punctured kidney. Once she was satisfied she made sure to put the woman in a comfortable hospital gown
Finally confident that their location was secure and that the younger druidess had no other injuries she began to attach IV’s and the like, making sure that Araane got her fluids and was cared for. She pulled up next to the woman in a chair, her eyes tired for a whole myriad of other reasons, but right now there was a laser like focus. In her hands a small cup of tea that she sipped on, pulling away to brush her fingers gently against the other’s face.
“I’m sorry for all the secrecy that you’re going to wake up to… I know that you can’t really hear me. But… I am hoping at least that someone takes the bait, when you wake up you can feel free to yell at me… scream at me, but know that what I’m doing, I’m doing to protect the organization.” Her hand traveled further down the woman’s face and then to her hair, toying with it.
“I know that you and me don’t stay on good terms, we’re always fighting about something, I know Gwen will be distraught if it was her who did this to you. I just hope you trust me on this one. Maybe… just maybe we can root out whoever attacked Gwen in the first place and cross an enemy of the Devilclaw off the list”
The druidess shook her head a bit sitting back in the chair not wanting to fall asleep, intent to watch over the other. She pulled the covers up gently and moved her hand down to take Araane’s own, “You and I have got to stop coming so close to death Butterbear… I don’t think my heart can take it anymore. In a lot of ways you.. and Alice are the only real family I have left”
“I wish we could talk about… all the craziness, but I imagine when you wake it will be back to the grindstone again, there’s always more work to be done” she scooted the chair a bit closer to the bed’s frame leaning her head over and giving a little sigh “Rest well butterbear… my sweet sweet bear, rest well and we’ll deal with this when you wake up”
The night would progress for what likely was hours as she kept by the other’s side, never for a moment closing her eyes never for an instant letting go of the other elf’s hand. She bit her lip in the small confined room and in that moment did what she thought was best, praying to the Goddess.
The Simple Bear Necessities of life
The druidess sat quietly in the home. She had brought back one of those wonderful Gnomish devices that allowed you to play moving pictures with sound so that at the very least her Ursine patient might have something to watch while she sat around in bed. To the bed’s side was a large bowl of popcorn and several phials of medicine meant to help with kidney function. A small machine hooked up to Araane’s side to aid in the mending process, the gnomes were certainly masterful inventors.
Looking the currently resting Elf over Alnarra sighed softly, ruffling he hair, “I have Kykona delivering the bad news, and I made sure to drop by Stormwind myself to at least show a presence, I hope you don’t mind my pretending to be the leader of this whole outfit for at least a bit,” Her hand went to pull one of the gnomish Moving Pictures with sound from the cabinet, this one about a heroic tale of 5 heroes who came together to defend Azeroth. A bemused chuckle as she started watching followed by a wistful sigh
“Not as much information as I would like is trickling in, even less then I would admit is giving us a good start, on top of that I don’t want to keep you ‘Dead’ too long, Kykona’s already told me that Seya took the news poorly, and I can’t imagine that Phaedra, or Talarae took it much better”
“Azaerl is no doubt probing into matters, Fafen’s crew is trying to throw the Twilight cult on it’s own adventure, and I have reached out to all the contacts I can muster, But even with our best efforts it could be some time before we expose the cult”
She looked over at the sleeping elf, reaching her hand to gently pet at the woman’s face and hair, “I promise that I’m trying to do things right… or well as right as one can be in this sort of situation. I won’t let you down Araane… not on this one… I just don’t know how much longer I can keep up the charade and facade. You know more then anyone that I’m not… a leader, not like you are”
She climbs into the bed with the other Elf, getting comfortable on top of the covers, her hand casually tracing against the other Elf’s Frame, resting her head on the woman’s shoulder. “I think you’d like this Gnomish Moving picture, it’s about a very big Green Orc who gets bigger and greener when he is angry, a Night Elven Sharpshooter, a Blood Elven Spy, a Human Paladin with these funny colors for his shield, a Dwarven Shaman who looks… well for a Dwarf he looks quite handsome, and then there is some other character, a Thorium man or something” shrugging some, “It’s a good piece, I want to find more by this Gnomish Moving image maker, someone was telling me he made a series of these about Marsh Bog Flies or something, that was very good but it got cancelled”
Trying to laugh a bit she pushed her head closer into the taller Elf’s slender Frame, the little gnomish device checking for vitals making a little beep every once in a while, “Just have to figure this all out”
Setting the Trap
Alnarra had just finished with the last pot of flowers for tonight’s Funeral. Inside the potted plant was lined with Wards meant to track the Arcane. Hidden under the rugs and scattered among the books that would decorate tonights event Wards meant to track Druidic magic, and finally in the coffin itself, lined to the teeth a series of Wards assigned to tracking the location of Fel Magic.
Beyond all this the food was all laced with a tracing agent that would allow the druidess to track any who ate it for at least 72 hours. Every inch of the place had been triple checked and warded in preparation for tonight’s events. The Enforcers of the Devilclaw had been briefed and anti toxins were stocked in masse.
A scouting patrol was chasing a lead and a group of interrogates gathering all the information they could from the Prisoner. Alnarra was not going to be caught off guard once more, this time it would be the Devilclaw pulling all the strings. The druidess was proud of herself.
She had managed to find that one of her suspects had indeed returned to the scene of the crime, and now she was prepared to strike. A scouting team was being called upon in the form of Sathea, Boudicca, Mynidal, and The new Blood Rory. Alnarra would be contacting them shortly enough to head into outlands and chase her new lead.
With any luck the Devilclaw could turn what would have been a devastating loss into one of their greatest victories, but it all hinged on being prepared and ready for any situation.
The druidess inhaled deeply, plotting, thinking, Tonight she thought they change the day.
A sound had gone out, the only Underboss of the Devilclaw still actively in service as she declared in a cold voice “Time of Death 2:32 Hours Ironforge Standard time. Until Further notice, I am assuming command operations of the Devilclaw and pursuing an investigation into the murder of Araane Stomrwarder”
She knew that her rouse would not last under a great deal of scrutiny, her medical team, the newblood Kas, Azaerl, and Cali were all very aware that the Ursine leader of the Devilclaw still drew breath, but it was the Druidess hope that their stones were being monitored, that their operations had been compromised enough that she could use this moment to turn the cults or whatever this was against them.
Alnarra didn’t have much knowledge at running any kind of criminal operations and certainly not the empire that the Devilclaw had come to regain in the past year, but she knew how to fight cults. This for her was the very core of her knowledge base, thriving in dismantling and destroying them. For the first time in a while she felt as if she had more then purpose, she had a clear understanding of the situation.
So she made her way into the quiet tree line of Duskwood, the former home of the Devilclaw, and over many a broken branch and limb, through hush forest she carried the Devilclaw’s true leader to a safe house of which the location was known to none but herself.
Passing the simple mason work wall and traveling inside she was quick to find a bedroom stocked full with Medical supplies and more then enough for her to look after her compatriot druidess. Setting her down in the bed, she unzipped the bag and pulled back the covers, going to strip the other druidess down and give a painstaking examination to ensure there were no other wounds then the punctured kidney. Once she was satisfied she made sure to put the woman in a comfortable hospital gown
Finally confident that their location was secure and that the younger druidess had no other injuries she began to attach IV’s and the like, making sure that Araane got her fluids and was cared for. She pulled up next to the woman in a chair, her eyes tired for a whole myriad of other reasons, but right now there was a laser like focus. In her hands a small cup of tea that she sipped on, pulling away to brush her fingers gently against the other’s face.
“I’m sorry for all the secrecy that you’re going to wake up to… I know that you can’t really hear me. But… I am hoping at least that someone takes the bait, when you wake up you can feel free to yell at me… scream at me, but know that what I’m doing, I’m doing to protect the organization.” Her hand traveled further down the woman’s face and then to her hair, toying with it.
“I know that you and me don’t stay on good terms, we’re always fighting about something, I know Gwen will be distraught if it was her who did this to you. I just hope you trust me on this one. Maybe… just maybe we can root out whoever attacked Gwen in the first place and cross an enemy of the Devilclaw off the list”
The druidess shook her head a bit sitting back in the chair not wanting to fall asleep, intent to watch over the other. She pulled the covers up gently and moved her hand down to take Araane’s own, “You and I have got to stop coming so close to death Butterbear… I don’t think my heart can take it anymore. In a lot of ways you.. and Alice are the only real family I have left”
“I wish we could talk about… all the craziness, but I imagine when you wake it will be back to the grindstone again, there’s always more work to be done” she scooted the chair a bit closer to the bed’s frame leaning her head over and giving a little sigh “Rest well butterbear… my sweet sweet bear, rest well and we’ll deal with this when you wake up”
The night would progress for what likely was hours as she kept by the other’s side, never for a moment closing her eyes never for an instant letting go of the other elf’s hand. She bit her lip in the small confined room and in that moment did what she thought was best, praying to the Goddess.
The Simple Bear Necessities of life
The druidess sat quietly in the home. She had brought back one of those wonderful Gnomish devices that allowed you to play moving pictures with sound so that at the very least her Ursine patient might have something to watch while she sat around in bed. To the bed’s side was a large bowl of popcorn and several phials of medicine meant to help with kidney function. A small machine hooked up to Araane’s side to aid in the mending process, the gnomes were certainly masterful inventors.
Looking the currently resting Elf over Alnarra sighed softly, ruffling he hair, “I have Kykona delivering the bad news, and I made sure to drop by Stormwind myself to at least show a presence, I hope you don’t mind my pretending to be the leader of this whole outfit for at least a bit,” Her hand went to pull one of the gnomish Moving Pictures with sound from the cabinet, this one about a heroic tale of 5 heroes who came together to defend Azeroth. A bemused chuckle as she started watching followed by a wistful sigh
“Not as much information as I would like is trickling in, even less then I would admit is giving us a good start, on top of that I don’t want to keep you ‘Dead’ too long, Kykona’s already told me that Seya took the news poorly, and I can’t imagine that Phaedra, or Talarae took it much better”
“Azaerl is no doubt probing into matters, Fafen’s crew is trying to throw the Twilight cult on it’s own adventure, and I have reached out to all the contacts I can muster, But even with our best efforts it could be some time before we expose the cult”
She looked over at the sleeping elf, reaching her hand to gently pet at the woman’s face and hair, “I promise that I’m trying to do things right… or well as right as one can be in this sort of situation. I won’t let you down Araane… not on this one… I just don’t know how much longer I can keep up the charade and facade. You know more then anyone that I’m not… a leader, not like you are”
She climbs into the bed with the other Elf, getting comfortable on top of the covers, her hand casually tracing against the other Elf’s Frame, resting her head on the woman’s shoulder. “I think you’d like this Gnomish Moving picture, it’s about a very big Green Orc who gets bigger and greener when he is angry, a Night Elven Sharpshooter, a Blood Elven Spy, a Human Paladin with these funny colors for his shield, a Dwarven Shaman who looks… well for a Dwarf he looks quite handsome, and then there is some other character, a Thorium man or something” shrugging some, “It’s a good piece, I want to find more by this Gnomish Moving image maker, someone was telling me he made a series of these about Marsh Bog Flies or something, that was very good but it got cancelled”
Trying to laugh a bit she pushed her head closer into the taller Elf’s slender Frame, the little gnomish device checking for vitals making a little beep every once in a while, “Just have to figure this all out”
Setting the Trap
Alnarra had just finished with the last pot of flowers for tonight’s Funeral. Inside the potted plant was lined with Wards meant to track the Arcane. Hidden under the rugs and scattered among the books that would decorate tonights event Wards meant to track Druidic magic, and finally in the coffin itself, lined to the teeth a series of Wards assigned to tracking the location of Fel Magic.
Beyond all this the food was all laced with a tracing agent that would allow the druidess to track any who ate it for at least 72 hours. Every inch of the place had been triple checked and warded in preparation for tonight’s events. The Enforcers of the Devilclaw had been briefed and anti toxins were stocked in masse.
A scouting patrol was chasing a lead and a group of interrogates gathering all the information they could from the Prisoner. Alnarra was not going to be caught off guard once more, this time it would be the Devilclaw pulling all the strings. The druidess was proud of herself.
She had managed to find that one of her suspects had indeed returned to the scene of the crime, and now she was prepared to strike. A scouting team was being called upon in the form of Sathea, Boudicca, Mynidal, and The new Blood Rory. Alnarra would be contacting them shortly enough to head into outlands and chase her new lead.
With any luck the Devilclaw could turn what would have been a devastating loss into one of their greatest victories, but it all hinged on being prepared and ready for any situation.
The druidess inhaled deeply, plotting, thinking, Tonight she thought they change the day.
Frustrations with the Goddess (Warlords of Draenor)
Steam filled the air, the room having an almost sullen mood. At the center of the shower the druidess sat quietly. In her hands a small locket, the one she had not let leave her sight or form for nearly 1,000 years. Her fingers caressed the small coffin shaped locket again and again as water dripped down her naked form. She sat quietly in a private bath she had managed to find, each drip of the water resonating against the emptiness of the room, the gentle pitter-patter against the tiled surface all that could be heard.
With the lighting barely more then a small oil lamp down the hallway, as she stared deeply into the pendant, perhaps hoping there might be some answers there. Kykona, a sprite darter, and near constant companion stayed just outside, waiting with a simple linen towel, knocking quietly on the doorframe, it’s little wings beat just enough to keep it afloat, “You ok?” it asked softly.
No response came, not even a dulled whisper or whimper, prompting the sprite dater to put the towel down on a nearby chair, giving up on the flying act and walking slowly across the tile surface. It’s small feet treaded through the water lightly as it made it’s way to her. She sat slouched, her back against the wall and her feet stretched out in an almost lazy manner, like someone who had been shot, she stared hopelessly at the ground.
The small sprite darter approached slowly, gently going to tap on the woman’s hand with it’s small paw, looking up at her with more concern then anything else, it repeated it’s question, “You ok?” The truth was the little creature already knew the answer but there was little to nothing it could do. Crawling up the woman’s arms, it gave the best attempt that a sprite darter could manage, trying to extend it’s short arms around her chest and press it’s head tight against the woman’s frame, “It be ok” was all it could offer.
It took time, but eventually the druidess would come to respond, gently squeezing at the sprite darter resting her chin atop its head, “Is it me?” she asked with a raspy voice, her body shaking. The water that made it’s way down her face stained with salt, “Am I the reason that it doesn't work out?” The sprite darter could do little to offer a response only leaning up to lick away one of the tears, “It be ok” the tiny creature repeated, hugging at the woman as tightly as it’s small and meager frame would allow.
Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears, as it was something she really had not face in any significant manner since the fight. She had run away at first, going to hide with friends, but now she was alone, spending her night feeling more isolated then she had in months, or perhaps… it seemed at least, years. In truth her relationship had been short lived, but it did not make the sting hurt any less, watching as the two walked away from her life any less of a painful memory.
“I don’t want to be alone” she cried softly, not even willing to turn to what had once been an easy crutch in the form of alcohol. The very taste of it seemed to make her sick and in truth all she really wanted right now was a friend. “Why… why now? Things were going so well… and it just, it all fell apart. Have I forsaken you?” her question seemingly directed at no one in particular, “Did I forget to do my ritual as I was supposed to? Was there some prayer that I said wrong? What have I done to so displease you? This year…. Has been countless frustration; one after another you present me with happiness only to rip it away. What did I do to deserve this? I have taken care of 3 little ones, who aren't even mine. Watched over them, cared for them, and done everything that I know how to make their days easier and their nights restful.” The anger in Alnarra’s voice grew as she stood looking up at the ceiling.
“I have saved countless lives on the battlefield and at home, mended those who were sick, cared for those who could not care for themselves. I have defended our lands with Honor, rushed into battle when my name was called and yet you put me through these trials and I don’t understand!” the pitch growing in frustration, her voice growing louder and louder with each word. “You offer others these happy lives, these marriages, and yet you burn my home down, you send me through a string a failed relationships! Is there a purpose to all of this? Is there some grand master plan that you hope to accomplish because…. Just damn you!” tears streamed down her face again as she hissed upwards.
“Damn you, I have done everything that could be asked of a Kaldorei, I grow weary of these trials. I do not know how many times more I can take being lifted up only so you can throw me back down. Whom do you answer to!” She shouted, her form shaking in anger now, “Who are you accountable to? What gives you the right!?” A small cough as she went to rub weakly at her right arm, going to sit back down “I thought I had found love…. I thought I had found my happiness, but all I have found is that my journey must begin again,” there was a deep frown that followed as she laid herself back against one of the corners wrapping her arms around her legs the Druidess put her head against her knees, sighing in frustration.
With the lighting barely more then a small oil lamp down the hallway, as she stared deeply into the pendant, perhaps hoping there might be some answers there. Kykona, a sprite darter, and near constant companion stayed just outside, waiting with a simple linen towel, knocking quietly on the doorframe, it’s little wings beat just enough to keep it afloat, “You ok?” it asked softly.
No response came, not even a dulled whisper or whimper, prompting the sprite dater to put the towel down on a nearby chair, giving up on the flying act and walking slowly across the tile surface. It’s small feet treaded through the water lightly as it made it’s way to her. She sat slouched, her back against the wall and her feet stretched out in an almost lazy manner, like someone who had been shot, she stared hopelessly at the ground.
The small sprite darter approached slowly, gently going to tap on the woman’s hand with it’s small paw, looking up at her with more concern then anything else, it repeated it’s question, “You ok?” The truth was the little creature already knew the answer but there was little to nothing it could do. Crawling up the woman’s arms, it gave the best attempt that a sprite darter could manage, trying to extend it’s short arms around her chest and press it’s head tight against the woman’s frame, “It be ok” was all it could offer.
It took time, but eventually the druidess would come to respond, gently squeezing at the sprite darter resting her chin atop its head, “Is it me?” she asked with a raspy voice, her body shaking. The water that made it’s way down her face stained with salt, “Am I the reason that it doesn't work out?” The sprite darter could do little to offer a response only leaning up to lick away one of the tears, “It be ok” the tiny creature repeated, hugging at the woman as tightly as it’s small and meager frame would allow.
Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears, as it was something she really had not face in any significant manner since the fight. She had run away at first, going to hide with friends, but now she was alone, spending her night feeling more isolated then she had in months, or perhaps… it seemed at least, years. In truth her relationship had been short lived, but it did not make the sting hurt any less, watching as the two walked away from her life any less of a painful memory.
“I don’t want to be alone” she cried softly, not even willing to turn to what had once been an easy crutch in the form of alcohol. The very taste of it seemed to make her sick and in truth all she really wanted right now was a friend. “Why… why now? Things were going so well… and it just, it all fell apart. Have I forsaken you?” her question seemingly directed at no one in particular, “Did I forget to do my ritual as I was supposed to? Was there some prayer that I said wrong? What have I done to so displease you? This year…. Has been countless frustration; one after another you present me with happiness only to rip it away. What did I do to deserve this? I have taken care of 3 little ones, who aren't even mine. Watched over them, cared for them, and done everything that I know how to make their days easier and their nights restful.” The anger in Alnarra’s voice grew as she stood looking up at the ceiling.
“I have saved countless lives on the battlefield and at home, mended those who were sick, cared for those who could not care for themselves. I have defended our lands with Honor, rushed into battle when my name was called and yet you put me through these trials and I don’t understand!” the pitch growing in frustration, her voice growing louder and louder with each word. “You offer others these happy lives, these marriages, and yet you burn my home down, you send me through a string a failed relationships! Is there a purpose to all of this? Is there some grand master plan that you hope to accomplish because…. Just damn you!” tears streamed down her face again as she hissed upwards.
“Damn you, I have done everything that could be asked of a Kaldorei, I grow weary of these trials. I do not know how many times more I can take being lifted up only so you can throw me back down. Whom do you answer to!” She shouted, her form shaking in anger now, “Who are you accountable to? What gives you the right!?” A small cough as she went to rub weakly at her right arm, going to sit back down “I thought I had found love…. I thought I had found my happiness, but all I have found is that my journey must begin again,” there was a deep frown that followed as she laid herself back against one of the corners wrapping her arms around her legs the Druidess put her head against her knees, sighing in frustration.
In the mail (Warlords of Draenor)
It was another day on the strange and somewhat serene land of the alien world. It started off just like any other, the druidess rolling out of bed to check the medical notes left for her by the staff before, then moving to get some coffee and breakfast, still in her robe and a simple pair of glasses. There was a simple pleasure in reading the morning medical reports, sipping on the strange human drink, and eating the curious delicacies that this land had to offer, the rylak eggs giving her a bit of a rush as she added various spices to them, thinking on how much Lynx or Inodraen might enjoy them. As the morning started to continue on, the Kaldorei, now much more accustomed to waking with the setting of the Goddess rather than her rise went back to her room to start wrapping and bandaging her arm.
The wound was about a month old now, when she had last made a visit to Azeroth a cultist of some variety or sort had managed to catch her off guard in an alley, and what started off as some kind of simple acid burn to her hand was quickly growing. It had already crawled up and consumed most of her right hand, and the tendrils of whatever it was were creeping up to her elbow. Giving a rather pathetic whine she started wrapping it once more, hoping to slow it’s progression until the doctor could figure out its cause.
“A package for you Ms. Stargrove” came a knock at the door, a small and helpful dwarf standing with a poorly wrapped package, much to Alnarra’s surprise. She gave a quaint smile to the small bearded fellow giving a quiet nod, “I didn’t realize that anyone was sending me mail all the way out here.” She scratched her head for a bit as she made her way to pick it up, looking over the sending address, “Where… where did this come from?” she asked in a curious manner, looking the Dark Iron Dwarf over.
It was taking some time to get used to the changes in the Alliance, and the inclusion of the Dark Iron and Wildhammer in the Alliances ranks was no different, the man could only offer a courteous smile as he clarified that he only delivered the mail sent from the Alliance’s slowly growing base in Ashran. Giving gentle nod she took the package back into her room setting it down on the table to examine later. The truth of the matter was that she was still packing so that Inodraen and she could make their visit to their slightly paler companion patrolling Nagrand.
She had been waiting to go on this trip for weeks, planning out every small little detail, what color she was going to paint her and Inodraen’s fur to mask their druidic markings, the route they were going to take to avoid the front lines, the passageways they would navigate to get to Lynx as safely and as quickly as possible. She smiled thinking of the three of them together, lounging about lazily, holding each other, and speaking of the future. She smiled deeply as her mind drifted to the matter.
Laughing a bit she went over to look at the box, reading the shipping label again, “Hmm… addressed directly to me. That Gnomerean .25” Microscope couldn’t have gotten here…. This quickly” she shook her head a bit as she went to pull a knife from the drawer, slowly cutting away at the twine bindings, she found a small letter which she unfolded, reading it slowly
Dearest Doctor Stargrove,
It has come to our attention, that for some time you have managed to avoid recompense for your actions. Our brief meeting in Stormwind was but a taste of what we have for you, and as a kind reminder of what our meetings have been like in the past, we have decided to ship you something to ensure that your full understanding of what we intend to do to you, your loved ones, and all those they ever called friend or family
The druidess gave a bit of a stray blink at the letter reading it again, she nervously looked at the box, going to start peeling back the lid. Biting her lip heavily she motioned for Kykona to come over with her knowing it’d be safer for the constant pest, but remarkable survivor of a Sprite Darter to open it. Her eyes were ever vigilant, druidic magic at the ready for whatever may be inside.
But as the lid was removed, what was inside instantly seemed to bring the 5,000 year old druidess, doctor, and mother of three to her knees. Her whole form was winded as she could barely speak, throwing up seeming the only recourse, she vomited again and again, “No…”. She slowly crawled towards the desk, pulling herself up to look at the contents, tears rolling down her cheek as she stared into the simple, mundane box. Inside Two Kaldorei ears preserved in a strange green fluid, a single eye, floating in a small glass chamber, and a skull. But Alnarra only needed the ears to recognize these remains, swallowing heavily as her hands went to touch at them. “Veraldan” she whispered
The wound was about a month old now, when she had last made a visit to Azeroth a cultist of some variety or sort had managed to catch her off guard in an alley, and what started off as some kind of simple acid burn to her hand was quickly growing. It had already crawled up and consumed most of her right hand, and the tendrils of whatever it was were creeping up to her elbow. Giving a rather pathetic whine she started wrapping it once more, hoping to slow it’s progression until the doctor could figure out its cause.
“A package for you Ms. Stargrove” came a knock at the door, a small and helpful dwarf standing with a poorly wrapped package, much to Alnarra’s surprise. She gave a quaint smile to the small bearded fellow giving a quiet nod, “I didn’t realize that anyone was sending me mail all the way out here.” She scratched her head for a bit as she made her way to pick it up, looking over the sending address, “Where… where did this come from?” she asked in a curious manner, looking the Dark Iron Dwarf over.
It was taking some time to get used to the changes in the Alliance, and the inclusion of the Dark Iron and Wildhammer in the Alliances ranks was no different, the man could only offer a courteous smile as he clarified that he only delivered the mail sent from the Alliance’s slowly growing base in Ashran. Giving gentle nod she took the package back into her room setting it down on the table to examine later. The truth of the matter was that she was still packing so that Inodraen and she could make their visit to their slightly paler companion patrolling Nagrand.
She had been waiting to go on this trip for weeks, planning out every small little detail, what color she was going to paint her and Inodraen’s fur to mask their druidic markings, the route they were going to take to avoid the front lines, the passageways they would navigate to get to Lynx as safely and as quickly as possible. She smiled thinking of the three of them together, lounging about lazily, holding each other, and speaking of the future. She smiled deeply as her mind drifted to the matter.
Laughing a bit she went over to look at the box, reading the shipping label again, “Hmm… addressed directly to me. That Gnomerean .25” Microscope couldn’t have gotten here…. This quickly” she shook her head a bit as she went to pull a knife from the drawer, slowly cutting away at the twine bindings, she found a small letter which she unfolded, reading it slowly
Dearest Doctor Stargrove,
It has come to our attention, that for some time you have managed to avoid recompense for your actions. Our brief meeting in Stormwind was but a taste of what we have for you, and as a kind reminder of what our meetings have been like in the past, we have decided to ship you something to ensure that your full understanding of what we intend to do to you, your loved ones, and all those they ever called friend or family
The druidess gave a bit of a stray blink at the letter reading it again, she nervously looked at the box, going to start peeling back the lid. Biting her lip heavily she motioned for Kykona to come over with her knowing it’d be safer for the constant pest, but remarkable survivor of a Sprite Darter to open it. Her eyes were ever vigilant, druidic magic at the ready for whatever may be inside.
But as the lid was removed, what was inside instantly seemed to bring the 5,000 year old druidess, doctor, and mother of three to her knees. Her whole form was winded as she could barely speak, throwing up seeming the only recourse, she vomited again and again, “No…”. She slowly crawled towards the desk, pulling herself up to look at the contents, tears rolling down her cheek as she stared into the simple, mundane box. Inside Two Kaldorei ears preserved in a strange green fluid, a single eye, floating in a small glass chamber, and a skull. But Alnarra only needed the ears to recognize these remains, swallowing heavily as her hands went to touch at them. “Veraldan” she whispered
Where'd you go? I miss you so (Warlords of Draenor)
The druidess sat silent in a quiet and reclusive home deep in the woods of Feralas. The building sat in a state of disrepair, roots growing in through the windows and door frame. The chimney long ago put out by time, now little more than a collection of loosely fitting bricks. The building was cracking and had long ago given itself to the negligence of time. As the hours ticked by, the druidess seemed to be chipping away at a wooden block, each piece carefully crafted and cared for. Her silvery eyes dim in the light of the day, her expression weathered and beaten.
She could count all the faults of the year that were beginning to run through her head. The loss of her relationship with Hafu, the abortion of the child that preceded it. Her time and injuries with the Devilclaw and the roller coaster of emotions it brought with. From meeting Baelali, to his burning down of her home. Alnarra’s experience with Araane, only to discover that love was more complicated then she had remembered. The hopes and dreams that she had placed in Inodraen, only for him to hide away in the mountains of Winterspring. The acts of a woman driven to sadness, and the investment of care she had made in a strange Sin’dorei huntress, the same huntress that now sat driven mad and under the protection of fae magics.
The druidess didn’t come here to dwell though. Alnarra had grown tired of dwelling, of spending her nights wiping her eyes of the tears that came with the pouring out of her heart. The months that had been nothing short of a spider web of failures and successes, all driving the relatively young Kaldorei to a state of absolute misery. She could hide her emotions in front of the others, pretend that what had transpired had not driven her to such a deep sadness, but not here. In this place, there was nothing Alnarra could hide, not from herself, and not from the world.
Setting the wood piece down, the woman returned to the familial room where she had spent her youth, going to sit on the bed, she pulled out a piece of literature on the priestesses of the moon. It was something her mother hand meant for her to become, but she was never quite practiced enough, never trained enough to take the position.
Instead she could only laugh as she turned the pages slowly, her eyes drawn to the unique drawings and passages. Each one written in an ancient Kaldorei manuscript, one the druidess was becoming less and less accustomed to seeing. Pulling her glasses from her satchel, she discovered that in this time they had been broken. The frame twisted and bent, the lens a shattered wreck. It took a roll of her eyes to dismiss the luck, just another item in a long list of things that had been broken in this travel.
“Figures doesn’t it Kykona?” she asked in a tired voice getting up and setting the book back in its place, amongst the cobwebs and dust. The sprite darter remained quiet through all of this, knowing that the fact that Alnarra had withdrawn this far did not bode well. Even in the darkness of losing her children Kykona had never seen this home, a sanctuary to a past that Alnarra had tried to forget.
“Why we here?” it asked quietly, afraid to disturb or move anything, it fluttered quietly next to the woman, it’s eyes sharp and its usual appetite for shiny objects diminished by the heavy weight of this place.
“Needed to think,” the druidess responded with a firm, almost uplifting voice. She pushed her way to a rear entrance going to look upon what was once a lush garden of vegetables, lavender, and so much more, now only sitting as a hollow and reminder of what it once was. With that there was a simple smirk as Alnarra began to call upon powers the circle thought it had been able to lock away in her trials. The roots that made their way through the soil seeming to react, as if ripples of druidic magic were passing through them. The very air seemed to become heavy as a laugh escaped her. “I think that’s about enough time in the forest of Feralas don’t you?”
With a scream of pure and unadulterated release, the ground around the shook, the trees and the roots all seeming to react, the silvery eyes of the Kaldorei burned with a ferocity now as she focused her attention, weaving the roots of the garden into position, curling them into a tight bundle. “The enemy sits at the gate, we have lost contact with countless outpost, and even now the Alliance is mustering a force to push through to the other side.” The smirk on her face grew brighter, “What do you think Kykona? Do you think they could use a bit of help?”
Confusion marked the face of the sprite darter, “Help?” it asked softly, its eyes meeting Alnarra’s own, “What you mean help?” it seemed to gulp a bit at the implications.
“The Green Skins killed Dathans, I feel like they should feel the burn of that mistake, and all the other mistakes they have made. I am tired of sitting idly by while the world turns. Even if the circle doesn’t seem to trust me, I don’t really care anymore. I am Alnarria Elslora Stargrove and I have far more important things to do then to sit and weep” there was a passion in her voice, a clenched fist as she once again commanded the root bundle “Wish they had told me back in Moonglade that this was all little more than glorified shamanism” she smirked a bit before forming the root bundle into a treant, which she proceeded to draw her weapon on.
The moon rose and set before she was done with her training, hours spent fighting at her absolute peak, and every blow seemed to only invigorate the fire that burned within her belly. Growling in a proud manner she ran at the creature again and again, trading blows, an almost feral nature about the usually more stoic druidess.
“Time to stop crying” she laughed fighting with her sparring dummy, “Time to get things done”
She could count all the faults of the year that were beginning to run through her head. The loss of her relationship with Hafu, the abortion of the child that preceded it. Her time and injuries with the Devilclaw and the roller coaster of emotions it brought with. From meeting Baelali, to his burning down of her home. Alnarra’s experience with Araane, only to discover that love was more complicated then she had remembered. The hopes and dreams that she had placed in Inodraen, only for him to hide away in the mountains of Winterspring. The acts of a woman driven to sadness, and the investment of care she had made in a strange Sin’dorei huntress, the same huntress that now sat driven mad and under the protection of fae magics.
The druidess didn’t come here to dwell though. Alnarra had grown tired of dwelling, of spending her nights wiping her eyes of the tears that came with the pouring out of her heart. The months that had been nothing short of a spider web of failures and successes, all driving the relatively young Kaldorei to a state of absolute misery. She could hide her emotions in front of the others, pretend that what had transpired had not driven her to such a deep sadness, but not here. In this place, there was nothing Alnarra could hide, not from herself, and not from the world.
Setting the wood piece down, the woman returned to the familial room where she had spent her youth, going to sit on the bed, she pulled out a piece of literature on the priestesses of the moon. It was something her mother hand meant for her to become, but she was never quite practiced enough, never trained enough to take the position.
Instead she could only laugh as she turned the pages slowly, her eyes drawn to the unique drawings and passages. Each one written in an ancient Kaldorei manuscript, one the druidess was becoming less and less accustomed to seeing. Pulling her glasses from her satchel, she discovered that in this time they had been broken. The frame twisted and bent, the lens a shattered wreck. It took a roll of her eyes to dismiss the luck, just another item in a long list of things that had been broken in this travel.
“Figures doesn’t it Kykona?” she asked in a tired voice getting up and setting the book back in its place, amongst the cobwebs and dust. The sprite darter remained quiet through all of this, knowing that the fact that Alnarra had withdrawn this far did not bode well. Even in the darkness of losing her children Kykona had never seen this home, a sanctuary to a past that Alnarra had tried to forget.
“Why we here?” it asked quietly, afraid to disturb or move anything, it fluttered quietly next to the woman, it’s eyes sharp and its usual appetite for shiny objects diminished by the heavy weight of this place.
“Needed to think,” the druidess responded with a firm, almost uplifting voice. She pushed her way to a rear entrance going to look upon what was once a lush garden of vegetables, lavender, and so much more, now only sitting as a hollow and reminder of what it once was. With that there was a simple smirk as Alnarra began to call upon powers the circle thought it had been able to lock away in her trials. The roots that made their way through the soil seeming to react, as if ripples of druidic magic were passing through them. The very air seemed to become heavy as a laugh escaped her. “I think that’s about enough time in the forest of Feralas don’t you?”
With a scream of pure and unadulterated release, the ground around the shook, the trees and the roots all seeming to react, the silvery eyes of the Kaldorei burned with a ferocity now as she focused her attention, weaving the roots of the garden into position, curling them into a tight bundle. “The enemy sits at the gate, we have lost contact with countless outpost, and even now the Alliance is mustering a force to push through to the other side.” The smirk on her face grew brighter, “What do you think Kykona? Do you think they could use a bit of help?”
Confusion marked the face of the sprite darter, “Help?” it asked softly, its eyes meeting Alnarra’s own, “What you mean help?” it seemed to gulp a bit at the implications.
“The Green Skins killed Dathans, I feel like they should feel the burn of that mistake, and all the other mistakes they have made. I am tired of sitting idly by while the world turns. Even if the circle doesn’t seem to trust me, I don’t really care anymore. I am Alnarria Elslora Stargrove and I have far more important things to do then to sit and weep” there was a passion in her voice, a clenched fist as she once again commanded the root bundle “Wish they had told me back in Moonglade that this was all little more than glorified shamanism” she smirked a bit before forming the root bundle into a treant, which she proceeded to draw her weapon on.
The moon rose and set before she was done with her training, hours spent fighting at her absolute peak, and every blow seemed to only invigorate the fire that burned within her belly. Growling in a proud manner she ran at the creature again and again, trading blows, an almost feral nature about the usually more stoic druidess.
“Time to stop crying” she laughed fighting with her sparring dummy, “Time to get things done”
It could be worse right? ( Myst of Pandaria )
The druidess sat quietly in the Bar, she had been a regular enough patron of the pig and whistle that the barkeep had failed to notice her staying for upwards of 16 hours in the same chair, ordering nothing, and staring blankly into the emptiness of space. Her ears were folded back in a peculiar showing of displeasure as she seemed to be only in the mood for sighing.
It had been 3 days since the Trial in Moonglade, something she hoped would be nothing more then a show of force had turned into something far worse. Perhaps it was a poor idea to bring her fellows along, between the outburst, and the accosting of the judge and the prosecution by the few witnesses that were interviewed, Alnarra was not sure if the trial had always been rigged or if her dismal failure of a defense had ensured her silent defeat.
She had been stripped of everything, her title as a member of the Cenarion Circle, her connection with nature itself, only her ability to shapeshift to her feline form remained, and she feared taking it's shape without the ability to calm it with druidic magics. The Circle was right, she had used blood magic, though it had been in self defense. She had used the magics of the Druids of the Flame to help her when she looked for her daughter nearly a year ago, but surely they must understand right? Were her ties toa criminal organization like the Devilclaw really that damning? Her association with Lynx was it the cause of her downfall?
It all mattered not now, the council's method for stripping a druid of their powers invented following the outbreak in the firelands, had ensured that her control of roots, winds, water, and healing had been taken from her.
And now, the Devilclaw set destitute, Hann having spent his money on gabmling and Araane having lost hers in a drunken fraternization with Booty Bay whores, Phaedra having lost her wealth to the appletons, it felt like the entire world had collapsed in a week. Putting her head between her hands, she let out a soft sigh.
There was no time for tears, there was no time for anger or shame. Alnarra knew that perhaps now she was at her lowest, but she still had Inodraen, Lynx and her friends right? She wanted to return to Darnassus, to see the priestess Fafen, or Ms. Seya. She would write them a letter, but right now even that was beyond her means. The travel to Darnassus would take weeks to save up for even if she was able to find a job as a waitress or something else in here in Stormwind.
Perhaps she could join the legion of others who now served in the brothels and red light district... No, she didn't... that was not her. She had more pride then that. She would scramble back to the to at least having a place to stay through her own means. Even if she didn't have her powers or her possessions there was something more right? She had heart, and the people she loved. That was more important then the other things.
She could find misery in her sorrows, but right now she needed to be strong. She needed to be strong for Lynx and Inodraen, she needed to show them that she could still stand, even if it hurt terribly to do so. She looked over at the table filled with ham and bacon, and her stomach gave a growl.
The druidess had spent so many days locked away in her lab, looking for some kind of answer, something to take her mind off things, but it was no use. With a shake of her head, she returned to staring at the wall, waiting, planning.
It had been 3 days since the Trial in Moonglade, something she hoped would be nothing more then a show of force had turned into something far worse. Perhaps it was a poor idea to bring her fellows along, between the outburst, and the accosting of the judge and the prosecution by the few witnesses that were interviewed, Alnarra was not sure if the trial had always been rigged or if her dismal failure of a defense had ensured her silent defeat.
She had been stripped of everything, her title as a member of the Cenarion Circle, her connection with nature itself, only her ability to shapeshift to her feline form remained, and she feared taking it's shape without the ability to calm it with druidic magics. The Circle was right, she had used blood magic, though it had been in self defense. She had used the magics of the Druids of the Flame to help her when she looked for her daughter nearly a year ago, but surely they must understand right? Were her ties toa criminal organization like the Devilclaw really that damning? Her association with Lynx was it the cause of her downfall?
It all mattered not now, the council's method for stripping a druid of their powers invented following the outbreak in the firelands, had ensured that her control of roots, winds, water, and healing had been taken from her.
And now, the Devilclaw set destitute, Hann having spent his money on gabmling and Araane having lost hers in a drunken fraternization with Booty Bay whores, Phaedra having lost her wealth to the appletons, it felt like the entire world had collapsed in a week. Putting her head between her hands, she let out a soft sigh.
There was no time for tears, there was no time for anger or shame. Alnarra knew that perhaps now she was at her lowest, but she still had Inodraen, Lynx and her friends right? She wanted to return to Darnassus, to see the priestess Fafen, or Ms. Seya. She would write them a letter, but right now even that was beyond her means. The travel to Darnassus would take weeks to save up for even if she was able to find a job as a waitress or something else in here in Stormwind.
Perhaps she could join the legion of others who now served in the brothels and red light district... No, she didn't... that was not her. She had more pride then that. She would scramble back to the to at least having a place to stay through her own means. Even if she didn't have her powers or her possessions there was something more right? She had heart, and the people she loved. That was more important then the other things.
She could find misery in her sorrows, but right now she needed to be strong. She needed to be strong for Lynx and Inodraen, she needed to show them that she could still stand, even if it hurt terribly to do so. She looked over at the table filled with ham and bacon, and her stomach gave a growl.
The druidess had spent so many days locked away in her lab, looking for some kind of answer, something to take her mind off things, but it was no use. With a shake of her head, she returned to staring at the wall, waiting, planning.
Stewing (Myst of Pandaria)
“Whore, liar, fool, brat”
The words rung through Alnarra’s head again and again without stop.
“Weak, pathetic, powerless, sniveling”
The druidess eyes remain shut as her whole form sat beneath the water, a small straw sticking from the gentle, almost serene surface. Below the water’s depths the woman lay back peacefully in the tub, only the movement of her chest from the slow breaths giving any evidence of her status.
“Failure, disgrace, wretch”
The sprite darter squeaked and hollered helplessly from inside the room, banging on the locked door begging for someone to come barging in. It called for help time and time again, but the Stormwarder home was empty this morning. The Guest bathroom remained empty save the panicked sprite darter and its companion. It went to find Alnarra’s stone but that was locked in the bedroom with her ever depleting satchel.
“Trivial, Worthless, Mistake”
In her mind Alnarra was plagued by thoughts that she tried to bury each and every day, the ability to simply remove the straw from her mouth and with the ironwood bindings she had wrapped around her arms and legs end it right then and there. To make all the pain go away, to end the suffering that she went through every day. She was so tired of being in tears, of being sad. She saw it on the faces of those she had come close to, their irritation with her sadness apparent in all their eyes. For the entirety of the last week anytime she had spoken to Araane it had been to yell at her, to tell her there was something wrong with her. Inodraen was so busy with the newbloods antics that he felt the need to stalk something in the woods. She had only managed to depress Delegoth with her mood, and even Lerlira could not bear to be with her long.
“Sabershit, Ruin, Pain”
Little Gwen, Araane, Alice, and Inodraen the only forces in her life that kept her moving. She could not see her own self-worth, her own image so badly distorted by the events of the last few days that she could hardly stand on her own. She had wondered into that Orc den looking for information on the woman who had pulled the wool over her eyes for so long. Her reason was in question, her ability to judge others in ruin.
“You’re so sad when you’re not getting laid…. You slut”
Delegoth’s words burned like fire through her soul, that the only way to make herself feel better was the affection and touch of another. Was she so pathetic, so needy, so craving of another’s touch that in their presence somehow Alnarra was made to feel better. Was Hafu right that the void in her heart was so obvious to everyone around her that she truly was pointless without another. That sex was some kind of vice she had come to rely on to fix herself.
“Death, Mediocre, trash”
Sarynth reminded her so terribly of the woman Alnarra spent her mornings hiding in the woods from, praying to the goddess that she would not be found before breakfast and hit again. All the old scars long since buried and healed…. But the soul still a terribly battered thing. She had spoken her mind with the woman and seen no reaction from her, nothing to show any fear, no remorse for her actions, and yet she knew that the person she had confessed her everything to, the person she had asked to be her lifelong mate, something she would have feared from any other now loved her more than Alnarra.
She could not hide her jealousy and rage, she had thrown her necklace to the ground, upset and angry as the woman seemed to reek of that same arrogant self-confidence, the same cold gaze that beat her helpless form for years without end, left scars and welts across her body that seemed like they would never stop hurting, and now her lover cared more for her.
The image of watching Sarynth Spit at her, while Araane condemned her for being upset over Gwen’s disappearance ran through her mind.
Alnarra grew so tired… and it would be so easy, to let it all just slip away. Gwen, Inodraen they would forgive her right? They would understand. She had already sent the lab results for Abby to the correct places. Someone… someone with more skills then her could resolve this issue. Alice would be ok, she didn’t need Alnarra. No one needed Alnarra. No one needed her…
“You don’t belong, you have no place to be, and No one needs you”
Alnarra began to let the straw go from her mouth, it drifted slowly to the surface as she opened her eyes to watch, holding on to a last breath she had gotten so tired of being sad, so tired of feeling like she was wrong, she did not know how to fix it anymore. She felt as if she had run out of options, and in that moment she finally felt as if perhaps she could stop being a burden. They would all be so happy if she was just gone. A faint smile crossed the druidess face as the last of her breath kept her eyes open, the water seemed to get deeper and warmer.
It was not long before the usually Hydrophobic Sprite darter was pulling desperately at Alnarra’s ears and face, it’s eyes full of panic as it tried to drag the druidess back to the surface. It did not understand she had seemed so happy the days before, it did not see why. It pulled and it tugged, its little wings flapping in a most desperate motion in the water. As it finally managed to bring the druid’s head above the water her face was full of the same sadness it had come to know for so long.
It waited, each second seeming like an eternity before she inhaled sharply coughing up water into the tub, her hands still bound by the ironwood she looked at Kykona with a sad sense of surprise.
“You cannot go!” it pleaded, tears rolling down the little sprite darter’s face, “I need you! They need you! You make people better! You heal the sick, the wounded, and they dying! You cannot go!” The sprite darter was incredibly animated its little hands shaking in frustration as it went to pull at her cheeks planting small kisses all along her face, “Why can’t you stop for one second and recognize that you are a good person!”
Alnarra’s expression became defensive, frantic, “If I hadn’t spoken to Gwen as I did, about that foolish topic she never would have gone to Stormwind. If I had been stronger, better, more capable I could have been enough for Araane, and she would not sleep with a woman who will only hurt her! If I was smarter I would have never fallen for that imposter! I am wrong! I have always been wrong. Since the day I took my first breath I was a mistake!”
The sprite darter slapped her with its small paw across the cheek, “You’re not a mistake to me! You weren’t a mistake to him! You can’t leave. So many of us need you!” It wept holding her face, “Stop,” it pleaded, its voice growing weak and upset, “Stop seeing yourself as the enemy Alnarria, you aren’t the enemy. I know things are hard, I can see the look on your face as you have fought in this year, in these months to find your place and maybe it is not among this den of thieves. Please listen to me Alnarria, please do not go!”
The sprite darter looked at the woman helplessly, as the strength she had been so desperate to maintain throughout the night before fractured and shattered. The Druidess who pretended to be strong, who hid her fears and her loathing began to cry once more, the small sprite darter simply holding Alnarra close, “I’m sorry Kykona,” she spoke softly.
The words rung through Alnarra’s head again and again without stop.
“Weak, pathetic, powerless, sniveling”
The druidess eyes remain shut as her whole form sat beneath the water, a small straw sticking from the gentle, almost serene surface. Below the water’s depths the woman lay back peacefully in the tub, only the movement of her chest from the slow breaths giving any evidence of her status.
“Failure, disgrace, wretch”
The sprite darter squeaked and hollered helplessly from inside the room, banging on the locked door begging for someone to come barging in. It called for help time and time again, but the Stormwarder home was empty this morning. The Guest bathroom remained empty save the panicked sprite darter and its companion. It went to find Alnarra’s stone but that was locked in the bedroom with her ever depleting satchel.
“Trivial, Worthless, Mistake”
In her mind Alnarra was plagued by thoughts that she tried to bury each and every day, the ability to simply remove the straw from her mouth and with the ironwood bindings she had wrapped around her arms and legs end it right then and there. To make all the pain go away, to end the suffering that she went through every day. She was so tired of being in tears, of being sad. She saw it on the faces of those she had come close to, their irritation with her sadness apparent in all their eyes. For the entirety of the last week anytime she had spoken to Araane it had been to yell at her, to tell her there was something wrong with her. Inodraen was so busy with the newbloods antics that he felt the need to stalk something in the woods. She had only managed to depress Delegoth with her mood, and even Lerlira could not bear to be with her long.
“Sabershit, Ruin, Pain”
Little Gwen, Araane, Alice, and Inodraen the only forces in her life that kept her moving. She could not see her own self-worth, her own image so badly distorted by the events of the last few days that she could hardly stand on her own. She had wondered into that Orc den looking for information on the woman who had pulled the wool over her eyes for so long. Her reason was in question, her ability to judge others in ruin.
“You’re so sad when you’re not getting laid…. You slut”
Delegoth’s words burned like fire through her soul, that the only way to make herself feel better was the affection and touch of another. Was she so pathetic, so needy, so craving of another’s touch that in their presence somehow Alnarra was made to feel better. Was Hafu right that the void in her heart was so obvious to everyone around her that she truly was pointless without another. That sex was some kind of vice she had come to rely on to fix herself.
“Death, Mediocre, trash”
Sarynth reminded her so terribly of the woman Alnarra spent her mornings hiding in the woods from, praying to the goddess that she would not be found before breakfast and hit again. All the old scars long since buried and healed…. But the soul still a terribly battered thing. She had spoken her mind with the woman and seen no reaction from her, nothing to show any fear, no remorse for her actions, and yet she knew that the person she had confessed her everything to, the person she had asked to be her lifelong mate, something she would have feared from any other now loved her more than Alnarra.
She could not hide her jealousy and rage, she had thrown her necklace to the ground, upset and angry as the woman seemed to reek of that same arrogant self-confidence, the same cold gaze that beat her helpless form for years without end, left scars and welts across her body that seemed like they would never stop hurting, and now her lover cared more for her.
The image of watching Sarynth Spit at her, while Araane condemned her for being upset over Gwen’s disappearance ran through her mind.
Alnarra grew so tired… and it would be so easy, to let it all just slip away. Gwen, Inodraen they would forgive her right? They would understand. She had already sent the lab results for Abby to the correct places. Someone… someone with more skills then her could resolve this issue. Alice would be ok, she didn’t need Alnarra. No one needed Alnarra. No one needed her…
“You don’t belong, you have no place to be, and No one needs you”
Alnarra began to let the straw go from her mouth, it drifted slowly to the surface as she opened her eyes to watch, holding on to a last breath she had gotten so tired of being sad, so tired of feeling like she was wrong, she did not know how to fix it anymore. She felt as if she had run out of options, and in that moment she finally felt as if perhaps she could stop being a burden. They would all be so happy if she was just gone. A faint smile crossed the druidess face as the last of her breath kept her eyes open, the water seemed to get deeper and warmer.
It was not long before the usually Hydrophobic Sprite darter was pulling desperately at Alnarra’s ears and face, it’s eyes full of panic as it tried to drag the druidess back to the surface. It did not understand she had seemed so happy the days before, it did not see why. It pulled and it tugged, its little wings flapping in a most desperate motion in the water. As it finally managed to bring the druid’s head above the water her face was full of the same sadness it had come to know for so long.
It waited, each second seeming like an eternity before she inhaled sharply coughing up water into the tub, her hands still bound by the ironwood she looked at Kykona with a sad sense of surprise.
“You cannot go!” it pleaded, tears rolling down the little sprite darter’s face, “I need you! They need you! You make people better! You heal the sick, the wounded, and they dying! You cannot go!” The sprite darter was incredibly animated its little hands shaking in frustration as it went to pull at her cheeks planting small kisses all along her face, “Why can’t you stop for one second and recognize that you are a good person!”
Alnarra’s expression became defensive, frantic, “If I hadn’t spoken to Gwen as I did, about that foolish topic she never would have gone to Stormwind. If I had been stronger, better, more capable I could have been enough for Araane, and she would not sleep with a woman who will only hurt her! If I was smarter I would have never fallen for that imposter! I am wrong! I have always been wrong. Since the day I took my first breath I was a mistake!”
The sprite darter slapped her with its small paw across the cheek, “You’re not a mistake to me! You weren’t a mistake to him! You can’t leave. So many of us need you!” It wept holding her face, “Stop,” it pleaded, its voice growing weak and upset, “Stop seeing yourself as the enemy Alnarria, you aren’t the enemy. I know things are hard, I can see the look on your face as you have fought in this year, in these months to find your place and maybe it is not among this den of thieves. Please listen to me Alnarria, please do not go!”
The sprite darter looked at the woman helplessly, as the strength she had been so desperate to maintain throughout the night before fractured and shattered. The Druidess who pretended to be strong, who hid her fears and her loathing began to cry once more, the small sprite darter simply holding Alnarra close, “I’m sorry Kykona,” she spoke softly.
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