That might just be me though, to be fair. I'm still not used to having the giant broadsword lobes extending out of my head. They are… irritating. Even if the improved hearing is a decent bonus.
I suppose I should just be thankful I am still a dude. Even if I am now somewhere between seven and eight feet tall.
From a convenient if lumpy bodied life with all the modern conveniences it entails, to a simpler and yet far more pressured life in Teldrassil. I suppose I can't really complain. I have no idea how I ended up like… this? Just that I did, as if waking from a long sleep all those months ago. Phasing between lives not with a bang, but with a gradual merging of selves. Until I fell asleep in front of my PC and woke in a thick bed of comfortable leaves deep under the canopy of the great tree.
Azeroth would not have been my first choice, in fa-
"Elandris. Concentrate."
"Apologies, honored herbalist."
Gathering a sliver of the wilds into my hands, I release it in small layers, each time etching a pattern into the world around me. The plant between my outstretched hands twitches, before shriveling up in rapid decomposition.
"Tch" My teacher spits in disgust. "Blessed with those eyes and yet somehow no talent at all for this. Maybe they were wrong about you. You disgrace your heritage with this daydreaming. Maybe if you cared more for the herbs and less about your childish troubles you wouldn't struggle with the bare basics of Druidism."
He gets up and stalks over to his herb garden, leaning down he gently pulls another Peacebloom from the pot, his hands glowing a bright emerald green. The herb emulates the glow for a moment as he places it in front of me.
"Again."
Sighing internally, I lazily form the pattern again.
The plant doesn't survive my attempt.
Nor do the next five.
I don't have the courage nor the heart to tell him it's not exactly accidental.
…
After being released from my teacher for the day I make my way back towards my home in the border between the commercial and temple districts. As I walk, I am occasionally greeted by passers-by. Most with a tight smile, and a few with a stern nod, that I return out of politeness more than anything.
My new family… is kinda well known. In fact outside of the Stormrage and Whisperwind names, mine might be the most well-known within the general populace of the Kaldorei.
Feathermoon. Elandris Feathermoon. My new existence is as the only child of Darnassus great general, and I suppose I'm just continuing to live up to my name as a perpetual disappointment.
Mother had high hopes for me. To become a Druid like her father. Pressure from my grandfather as far as I can work out though I've never managed to confirm that. But the pressure is constant. My memories from original Elandris run the gamut from painful isolation to endless lessons.
I suppose most children would give in, would drop their own dreams of adventure and excitement to become a career nap enthusiast like the rest of the Druids.
Unfortunately I have no intention of being a druid. None whatsoever. My reasons may be slightly different now I have a whole different perspective to draw on. But they remain valid nonetheless.
It may seem like the height of arrogance, or hubris maybe. And the height of unearned privilege. But with the benefit of future knowledge, primarily, I'm simply not willing to make myself so hilariously easy to corrupt. By Xavius. By Il'gynoth, and ultimately, by N'Zoth.
I'm also not big on the whole enforced vow to the Green Dragonflight my people have going on. The vow of a Kaldorei druid to sleep the majority of their lives away defending the Emerald Dream and Ysera's domain. Selfish? Absolutely, but I'm not willing to bow to an oath forced on me against my will. If I make an oath to protect something it will be because I mean it dammit. Not because it's expected of me.
I'm a bit of a black sheep. I suspect mother knows of my reluctance. She's rarely in Darnassus thankfully, spending most of her time out in Feralas keeping an eye on our Arcane addicted cousins the Shen'Dralar among other threats like the slowly expanding Horde. But she's… perceptive. In a way even most of my new people aren't.
And if she knows, then my distant grandmother, Tyrande Whisperwind, definitely knows. And I have a suspicion that all the insane pressure that comes from every angle to be a Druid can be tracked back directly to her.
You see I have a second curse, outside of being the most watched Kaldorei in Darnassus.
I am unfortunately cursed to be the spitting image of pre-corruption Illidan Stormrage. And while some people have buttons to push, Illidan Stormrage is to the ancient generation what a hungry lion is to a gazelle.
And to Tyrande, looking like I do might be the nuclear launch codes to her temper.
At twenty-six years old you'd think I'd be allowed to make my own choices, but to a woman who is well beyond ten-thousand years old. I may as well still be a forming embryo.
The worst people to push you are people who do it for your own good. And I suspect a reckoning is coming soon.
"Landy!"
I'm drawn out of my own head by a shriek as a purple cloud of hair slams into my face, arms wrapping around my waist in a backbreaking hug.
"C-an-t… breathe" I wheeze out. My attacker rapidly releasing me and backing away with a contrite grin.
Quickly catching my breath I return the smile. Purple hair, silver eyes and green face markings. And a face always carefully balanced between mischief and grace. Ilyndra Staghelm. My best friend.
"Ilyndra! When did you get back?" I step forward for a proper hug, one which she returns happily. Eventually she pulls away and leads me over to a nearby bench.
"Today! I came up from Rut'theran mere moments ago and saw you stalking away from the enclave. Still driving old Denatharion crazy I see."
I snort in response.
"One day they'll listen to me when I tell them I'm just not interested. But what can I do? They turned me down for sentinel and the temple weren't interested either."
"And the hunters," she chuckles "I heard about the whole 'sneaking out for archery training' thing from Denaria, did you really dye your hair and tell her father you were training for promotion to the Felwood militia? Actually, never mind it's always true with you. It's good to see you."
I return her laugh with a shake of my head. I'm still in archery training though she doesn't need to know that. I'm well known for sneaking in the forbidden 'any training but druid' behind my mother's back.
"It's good to see you too. If you are back, then does that mean your training is complete?
She shrugs lightly.
"I've been accepted to apprentice with the Sentinels at Feralas. Your mother's cadre in fact. I'm just here to pick up my equipment from uncle Fandral."
My face twists into a grim smile. Getting my closest friend away from Darnassus isolates me even more and makes me far more likely to give in. It wouldn't surprise me if this was intentional.
"Well done. That's not an easy first posting you must have really excelled."
Her face twists into a light frown.
"Don't do that Landy. We both know why I'm getting Feathermoon instead of Auberdine. You don't need to manage my pride."
I shrug.
"You are the best fighter of our generation in the tree. Some of this may be to do with getting you out of the way but there's zero chance Shandris puts someone who isn't ready within spitting distance of Eldre'Thalas. You know you earned it so stop being coy."
She sniffs.
"You got better with your words while I was away. You been sneaking into politics training with my Uncle?"
Fandral Staghelm is a bag of worms I am not touching with a ten foot bargepole.
"No, between Archery, how to process a kill, learning common from one of the human caravans, learning to make my own clothes, and trying to pick up all the wild cantrips the hunters use I've not had time. Maybe I'm just growing up."
We both look at each other with a smirk which quickly turns into a snort on her part. We laugh together for a moment, but the moment fades as she looks towards the moonwell and rests her head on my arm.
"Have you ever slipped and considered giving in?" she eventually asks?
"Hm?"
"Have you ever considered the whole druid thing."
I shrug.
"In the darker moments. When mothers away and the attendants are ignoring me and you are in training and the only conversation I can get is training. It fades fast though. I've never been so low that I've thought, 'giving up on everything I believe is better than this'. Maybe when you leave that will be the final straw but I don't think so. I've got my own plans." I reply softly.
"What plans? Better not be anything stupid." She states gently, looking out over the shimmering lights coming off the moonwell.
I hesitate for a moment. Should I tell her? Should I hide it. We've been friends for twenty years. I half suspect my mother intends for us to marry. Would she be loyal to me, or to my mother?
In the end though, if I can't trust her, that just legitimises my plans. So, I may as well make the leap.
"You can't tell anyone."
She sniffs imperiously.
"Have I ever?"
"No, but this is important to me. I trust you more than my own family, but people do things for people for their 'own good' all the time. And me trusting you is what makes me wary you might tell my mother or grandmother in order to protect me."
She pulls away and looks me in the eyes with a serious look.
"Tell me."
I sigh.
"I'm leaving. I intend to start journeying to the human capital 'Stormwind' within the week."
She gapes. Silence grows between us as her silver eyes stare solidly into mine with a look of abject shock. Eventually she finds herself as anger grows on her face.
"Leaving Darnassus, alone, at our age? Elandris you won't last a day out there."
I shrug.
"Ilyndra, I'm fading away here. Piece by piece I can't stand it anymore. I'd rather risk it all out there than slowly chafe away into nothingness here. No. I have a plan. Take the cargo route to Stormwind. I have my choice of paths from that point."
She looks down at the ground for a moment, clenching her fists and rolling her shoulder. I sit back on the bench watching her warily as she processes my words.
"Fine," she spits. "If you die I swear to Elune I will hunt your spirit down and beat you to death do you understand me. I wish I could come with you, I wish you'd told me earlier, but I've taken my damned oaths now you stupid brave fool."
I pull her into another hug.
"Ilyndra. I promise you I will be fine. I've not done all this training for nothing."
A distant horn blows signifying the closing of the gates as nighttime truly falls on the City. Ilyndra looks over towards the temple in dismay.
"I need to go Landy, I'm late. Please be safe. Promise me. I need to leave in two days so if I don't see you then just… be safe."
"I will, just… please keep it to yourself. At least until I get out. Once I'm on the ship there's nothing they can do."
She frowns.
"I won't lie, if they ask me directly. I won't break my vow. But… I won't tell them of my own will. I promise."
We hug briefly as the moment passes. She seems like she wants to say a lot more, but she just shakes her head sadly.
"I'm proud of you Elandris. I used to sometimes wish you'd just take the training so that we could just move on, but now we are older I'm glad you didn't. You just wouldn't be you."
She fades into the nighttime around us as an owl hoots above. And I can feel a tenseness in my chest at her disappearing.
There's not a lot left to do now until I can make my escape.
…
The family attendants greet me at the door with a grim smile.
"Elandris. Lady Whisperwind wishes to speak with you immediately."
I shrug. I have no patience for this, and it was going to come to a head anyway. What was that saying from that life long ago? 'In for a penny, in for a pound?' If I'm going to get yelled at, I may as well deserve it.
"I'm tired. I've been in lessons for the past twelve hours. She'll keep. I'm sure she has more important things to do with her life than lecturing me for being a bad druid."
Making my way upstairs to the scandalised looks from Shandris retainers I head towards my 'room'.
My 'room' could it be called such is a bed and dresser set between ornate hanging tapestries and a privacy screen. It's rare for Kaldorei in the capital and major cities to sleep in separated rooms of solid walls. Mostly only heads of families like Shandris have private lockable rooms for privacy of family documents, and people who choose to live alone and have the funding or reputation to be allowed to do so within the boundaries of Darnassus or up in Teldrassil in general.
As I push through one of the tapestries separating my 'quarters' I let out an explosive sigh, stripping down to my loincloth with alacrity born of utter exhaustion.
As I rub my temples from the ever-escalating headache I slide my hand under my bed, feeling the rolled-up leather and backpack stored by the edge. Slipping my hand inside the roll I feel the comforting smooth polished Elderwood of my hunting bow. Things are about to escalate. The pressure has been steadily growing, and I've been stockpiling resources out of sight. If things turn the way I expect I'll likely need to leave sooner rather than later. While mother is still deployed to Feralas.
I obviously know there will be consequences to what I just did. But I don't particularly care. What's Tyrande going to do? Kick me out?
I'd welcome it.
Instead of being a tactical miscue, my lashing out at Tyrande's thinly veiled orders is one thing only. Control grabbed by two hands, bringing the confrontation to my timescale, instead of hers. An attempt to shake things up and see if I can find a hole to escape through.
Escape. As if I'm an ill-treated prisoner. I'd shake my head at my sheer idiocy, but I hate this cloistered, controlled life. I want more. I want to see this world I once escaped into on a dial up connection and viewed through a dusty CRT all those years ago.
As I lay my head on down onto my pillow a flash of light covers my vision and I duck instinctively. But something slams into my head, and I collapse onto my bed in a daze.
Something is wrong, deeply, deeply wrong. The wild magic of the world is pulsing, wreathing itself around my skull in a dance of stars and leaves.
A whisper erupts in my brain, soon cascading into a roaring crescendo.
'All becomes one in you.'
Huh?
'Achievement leads to power, power leads to presence, presence leads to change. Change leads to achievement. The cycle of power begins and ends not with power itself, but with purpose.'
I don't understand.
An image forms, chiselled into marble, then suddenly etched into the cosmos itself. The firmament erupts as six circular images overlay themselves into an elaborate pattern.
A flash of light and stars erupts, nebulae forming and decaying as stars and planets pass by. One circle lights up like a star, another darkens into nothingness. One lights up an eerie green while the opposite a comforting but cold turquoise and violet. Finally, another twists into a lurid purple and gray, opposed across the image by the vibrant greens and reds of life.
Rune bound lines twist and swerve as more images intersperse themselves between the foundations of reality itself. Elements, planes. A split, black tentacles, ruined batlike wings, holy symbols and more draw themselves onto the celestial tapestry being woven before me.
In the center Azeroth. No. No that's wrong. The nascent planet spirit yet sleeps. In the center, me. I. This form.
And suddenly the whispers erupt into a deafening cacophony, ringing out around me in a chorus of six overpowering voices.
'In the end, time failed, space failed. And even those six most formative aspects of existence failed. We did not account for that most elusive of interlopers. Choice. Free will in all of its glorious variety. So we leave you this message. Our inheritor. Choose well and choose free. Be bound by none yet bound by all. Record an untrod path, as we pull from the outside of that existence we knew to bolster that which we did not understand.'
Three of the circles light up partially. Life, Order and Disorder. Three elaborate windows open in my vision, text scrawling itself across them.
Gourmet DJ
A Gourmet DJ has to have extensive musical knowledge to know which BGM best suits a specific meal and will help to bring maximum comfort and pleasure to the customer when eating. Things like the furnishing, the cutlery, the temperature, the humidity and the BGM all go into account when performing a proper session, as such a Gourmet DJ has to have a vast understanding of these elements as well to be able to create a proper session. When done right, a session enhances the eating experience greatly, creating the perfect harmony, however it should be noted that not everyone will share the same liking for a Gourmet DJ session, as some tend to find it uncomfortable.
10mm Pistol
This sidearm comes with 25 rounds of 10mm ammunition that restock after 24 hours. They were common before the Great War, used extensively by the Bureau of Alcohol, Drugs, Tobacco, Firearms and Lasers. Their ruggedness, reliability and firepower made them a popular choice among wastelanders and thus a staple of wasteland firefights
Vir Tanadhal
The Vir Tanadhal is a Dalish philosophy espoused by a clan's hunters in the spirit of the goddess of the hunt, Andruil. It teaches young Dalish hunters to respect nature and be resolute in purpose. You've been instructed in this philosophy's teachings, and have learned how to move through the wilds swiftly, silently, and unencumbered. Furthermore, wild animals will never bother you unless deliberately provoked.
Am… I dreaming?
Is this a joke? I've been 'awake' for months. Why all this now?
The instinct within this flash of power lies silent, a field of stars expanding as the three golden windows circle slowly around me. Concentrating on the gilt edges of the descriptions in front of me I can't help but feel… hopeful.
This looks like some variant of system. Maybe something similar to the Celestial Forge or the Gacha. A system that grants power.
A part of me worries about what I have to give up for this power, but the other part of me, the part of me that wants to range the wilds of Azeroth, to be free to make my own choices. To see this world, I spent half my adolescent years exploring all those years ago. To have the actual ability to help it without being bound up in eons old oaths.
That part of me welcomes the risk.
I quickly gaze over my options one last time.
I mean there's only one real choice here? If I want a pistol I can get one from the gnomes or goblins one day, I prefer bows anyway. And what the fuck use is gourmet DJ here?
Vir Tanadhal. I choose Vir Tanadhal.
Defiance of Destiny is the first key. What others exist are bound to your own actions.
The window I chose flashes in luminous gold before disappearing into wisps of silver-green light that slam into my head.
I don't even realise when I pass out. Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Jonnoda, Valor, AvidMiloReader27 and 543 others
Chapter 2
I wake up sharply, back aching and nursing a pounding headache. Attempting to sit up I realise I'm in an unfamiliar bed. And I can barely move with how painful and stiff my neck and back are.
I'm surrounded by off-white linen curtains, and through the gaps I see the occasional white robed elves walking around the cavernous building beyond. Mostly women with the occasional man mixed in. It's quiet, serene in a way you don't get elsewhere in the civilised parts of Darnassus.
Looking outside I realise I know this place. This is the healing house attached to the temple.
Struggling for a moment I manage to shuffle my way up the bed, leaning against the headboard and panting in exhaustion.
"Welcome back to the land of the awakened," a voice I recognise intimately sounds from my side.
Tyrande.
"High Priestess." I reply firmly, but not rudely.
She looks at me sadly for a moment. Turning to her side to look out towards the temple.
"You were found in bed, unrousable, by the attendants, bleeding heavily from your nostrils. What did you do to yourself Elandris?" She questions softly, but sternly.
I snort in response, head pulsing with a sharp lancing pain. Pushing myself up in bed I twist myself to glare at her.
"Always has to be something I did then, High Priestess? Can't be the ten straight fourteen hour days forced into repeating something I have no interest or talent in over and over and over again? Stress doesn't exist in your world I guess?"
"Take care how you speak to me grandson," she states blandly. "I rushed from the temple when they told me your state. Raw Life manipulation. You damaged yourself. You can barely channel the wilds and yet somehow you decide to attempt to emulate the Red Dragonflight without observation or training?"
I look away from her in disgust.
"Sure. Now you care. I'm surprised you didn't leave me to bleed out. Another 'lesson' maybe. And no, I did nothing of the sort, something hit me while I was falling asleep."
She looks at me sternly.
"I'm not sure I can believe that. And of course I wouldn't leave you to bleed out. Regardless of your childish dislike of me, I am your fam-"
"Family doesn't act like this," I interject.
"Do not interrupt me again," she bites back. A moment later she rests her head in her hands, her ornate white dress billowing as she sits down on the stool next to the bed.
For a moment a pregnant silence sits between us. I don't trust her and she doesn't trust me. Some family.
"Elandris." She says calmly. "Let's say for a moment I believe you. What happened? In your own words."
My memories are flighty, but I remember the basics. The celestial forge or grimoire, or at least some variant has picked me.
I can't tell her that though.
"I was getting ready for bed. The attendants told me you wanted to see me but there was a buzzing in my head."
I reach over to my bedside table and take a drink of water from a gourd.
"I've been exhausted with the training and isolation recently and I was… dizzy. As I sat on my bed I saw… something. A vision of some sorts. Giant beings with batlike wings. Writhing pustules of flesh. A great light made of fractal shapes. Elune's grace in the form of a river. So many images back-to-back I couldn't make sense of them. Then I woke up here."
As I speak I gaze out into… nothing. I didn't mean to say so much but once I got talking…
I snap my head towards her.
"Did you just compel me in some way?"
She looks me in the eyes without a hint of remorse.
"I called upon Elune's light to illuminate our words. Nothing more."
"Get out."
"Elan-"
I turn over and face the wall. She says my name a few more times before sighing deeply.
"Your lessons are suspended until I can find you a teacher who is strong enough to ignore your family connection to me and who will refuse to tolerate your selfishness. Get some rest. For what it is worth I believe you. Seers are not unusual amongst those strongly connected to the wild like you are. Please attempt to put a little more effort in."
"I will not become a druid," my reply sounds out muffled from my pillow. Sounding petulant even to my ears.
"Then you will be nothing. I will open no other path for you. Druidism is the only safe path for one such as you."
"Then one day I will die as nothing, and you can carve that into my headstone yourself. Grandmother."
The lack of reply is damning as I hear the flap close. My eyes are not far behind.
…
The day has long since faded to night when I awaken. My discharge comes quickly after.
Well, more of a dismissal than a discharge really, based on the attitude of the priestess on duty in the halls.
By the time I've stepped out into the cool air of the city my headache has mostly faded. The congestion in my head followed me out the door though. I wish the temple's soothing calm had also tagged along but we don't get everything we want.
Between the Priestesses in the temple and the Druids not far away in the enclave, there is no shortage of skilled healers here in Darnassus. I'm thankful for that. I'm lucky I woke up at all if Tyrande is correct and I had signs of raw life manipulation in my body. There's a reason we don't just emulate the Red flight after all, even given our ludicrous connection to Life thanks to Teldrassil.
For a moment I consider heading over to the Staghelm estate to see Ilyndra. But I… I don't want to split her loyalty any more than I already am. I don't want to know the answer to the question, 'me or Tyrande' when posed to my Sentinel best friend. There's only one answer I'd want, and it isn't the one I'd respect.
Safer to make sure it never becomes an issue. For me and for her.
As I move through the city it catches my attention that the unlit areas are not so dark. That the insect life no longer flits out of my way, instead ignoring my passing. I feel… connected to Teldrassil. Like never before.
My new 'ability' at work maybe? Teldrassil is the very personification of the wilds after all. And I've never felt quite so at home here as I do now.
Pity it can't last.
Retreating to my room as night falls over the city, I pull out my main pack. Bow, check. Thirty arrows, check. Waybread and food, drink and medical supplies, Check. Crafting supplies. Eh they'll do for now. Short spear. Check.
From my dresser I pull out a wooden jar. Pine tar from a Darnassian purple pine, sap from a green maple and a few alchemical ingredients to form a lurid purple dye. Another jar yields paint. Red paint to emulate some of the face markings of an independent hunter. For my eyes a set of blackened mesh bandages to dull the glow.
Using the dye mixture I layer my long hair, painting up and down the strands and massaging into my roots as my hair changes from a dark navy blue to a floral purple. Reaching into my nearby plant pot I uproot my Teldrassil Ivy and start layering the roots into my scalp and waving the vines into my hair. A little charcoal to contour my face differently and I'll be a new man.
Finally I apply the red flared markings to the underside of my eyes and the upper side of my neck. Wrapping the dyed mesh bandanna around my eyes with a flourish I look at myself in the mirror.
I am all but unrecognisable. My previously smooth hair that I kept up in a ponytail is now ragged and wild, hanging free and interspersed with vines, and the loose black mesh dulls my eyes to closer to a silver colour. Quickly dressing in my leather armour, a gift from my old Archery teacher, with the bow and backpack on my back along with my quiver I look the part of a hunter.
Ripping out my top drawer I tip it into my backpack, not caring about the alignment of the clothes and blankets within for now. My pack has a very light space expansion and weight reduction enchantment. Something I picked up from a rare human caravan not long ago.
I've held off long enough. With the revelation of whatever the hell the celestial madness earlier was, I no longer have the willpower to stay here.
Tyrande won't let me be more. Fuck it then I'll earn it myself.
Slipping my skinning knife into my sheathe at my hip, I mount my bedroll and tent to the straps intended for them on my backpack and head to the window. Climbing down the outside of my house is old news by now, and in the darkness of the encroaching night nobody notices me as I steal off into the night.
The backpack rests heavily on my back, but even with all the weight, it's far lighter than staying here for even a single day more.
I could have waited a few days to leave, maybe even seen Ilyndra off, but I don't think Tyrande will be expecting me to make a break for it right this second. The best time to get out is now. As long as I studiously ignore the more mature part of me telling me this is a bad idea.
We are approaching the time the human ships will dock so it's either now or try again on a much riskier day. It's not even a question. If not now, then when?
The chimes start to ring, starting out at the temple and then rippling through the city as the temple guard mark the changing of the hour. Most use the chimes to mark the time. I use this one as a starting pistol.
For just a single moment I freeze in place. Not scared, but listening. Watching and observing the pathways towards the central merchant district. The first footstep feels like I am carrying the weight of the world. The second is lighter. The third lighter still. All the while I'm listening to the city. Listening for the warning horns marking my absence. For pursuit.
Listening for my own doubts to turn me back towards home.
As I make my way through the lantern lit streets of Darnassus towards the portal nexus I catch a few intrigued looks, but I don't let them distract me. Keeping my eyes firmly on the merchant district and the portal down to Rut'theran Docks in my sight.
Luckily you don't need any identification papers to leave Darnassus, only to enter.
I pass through the portal without a backwards glance alongside two merchant caravans. Leaving now is pretty much the best time because the portal is at its busiest at this time of day and there is less room for scrutiny.
The scent of sea air hits me as I take a deep breath. My first independent steps outside the city proper in my entire life. I didn't even realise I'd been holding that breath until the salty, rich air of ground level fills my lungs and something more helpful than anxiety fills my veins.
Wanderlust, the call to adventure. Call it whatever you want but looking over the bustling wooden port, busy even as we approach the darkest hours of the night, but this single moment feels more like home than anything I have experienced in the past six months.
The 'village' and docks stretch out before me. Less of a quaint fishing village as shown in game and more of a wooden edifice of 'fuck you' to regular port design. Three ships are docked right now, one human in design, one obviously goblin, and another the deep purple ship of my people.
I've researched the routes. The trade routes of my people are many in the post Hyjal days.
My intention, contrary to what I told Ilyndra, is to attempt the Kalimdor cargo route to Theramore. It's not just a decently common trade route for us in Kalimdor, it also has the added bonus of being an ill thought of city among our people. Common, near daily travel due to economic need, but ill thought tracing back to Cenarius death.
Jaina Proudmoore is not well thought of by most Kaldorei currently. The woman who caused her own father's death to protect an Orc.
Even I, who has context beyond most, shudder a little at inviting patricide to protect one of those genocidal green invaders.
Which rings hollow given I'm a Horde main at heart. This conflict between original me and current me was one of the things that held me back the most. Now I fall roughly around where Jaina does. Leaning Alliance due to my people but mostly neutral and wanting everyone to get along.
What all this means however is my mother and grandmother would never expect me to take this route.
From Theramore I can look to wait for a ship to Stormwind, but most likely I'll look for a ship to Menethil Harbour. To throw things off even further. Once I hit the Eastern Kingdoms the world is my oyster. But I need to move quickly.
Approaching one of the human ships, the 'Randy Siren' if the gilt letters on the bow are to be believed, I notice a swarthy, bulky man directing loading.
"Excuse me sir?"
He turns around and looks me up and down.
"Sir? From one of youse? Now I've seen everything. What troubles ya elf?"
I look over at the ship.
"I'm looking for passage to Theramore. Is this the right ship or do I need one of the others?"
He turns to face me fully as the cargo loaders continue to work behind him.
"Aye, Theramore's in our run. Three gold for a passenger spot." The man smirks as he tries to have my pants down.
"What do you mean three gold? Isn't this one of the simpler runs? You must run it once a week!" I reply sharply.
The money the ships quartermaster is asking for is obscene. And I don't have it. I barely have half of that and that's enough money to eat and sleep at pretty much any inn for a month.
"Then pop yourself into one of yonder rowboats elfling. Such a short journey should be within your means of course. There are multiple reports of Naga in the Cape of Winter, not to mention Skrog weaving off Azshara. Then add in having to bracket Orgrimmar waters. Sure, 'Easy'. Even if the Proudmoore runt is spreading her legs for the green beast, nothing about this route is easy."
Elune save me, he must have Kul Tiran in him. Enough to dislike Jaina but not enough to ignore a profitable cargo route.
I let out an explosive sigh.
"I don't have close to that amount of gold. Is there anything else I can do?"
He looks at me thoughtfully, eyeing the bow on my back speculatively.
"Yer a hunter?"
I nod.
"Not much use for bows on a ship but someone with sharp eyesight. Well that can be useful. How are ya with a scrub brush?"
I look at him suspiciously.
"Why…?"
…
"You are joking?"
I look down at a hammock encrusted with… some sort of seaweed. A wooden bucket and a dirty cloth.
"We need lookouts and swabbies and yer don't have the gold to be picky Elfy. Yer lucky Ern took a likin to ya or you'd have paid a gold and still had to sleep here."
Letting out a sigh I lock up my pack and stow it in the provided footlocker. The regular passengers get cabins one deck up. Me I get the lower deck with the apprentice sailors.
And the rats, don't forget the rats.
I didn't expect Michelin star food and a luxury cabin, but a rough rope hammock made more of hopes and dreams than physical material was also not within my expectations. I'm really glad my pack is sealable by magic, or I genuinely think I'd get mugged by one of these rats. They're almost as big as nightsaber kits!
"Lendras. The captain wants a word." One of my crewmates pops his head through the door with a smirk. He's one of my roommates and has more scars than teeth.
That should probably worry me more than it does.
The crewman is standing there waiting for me, and I suppose I'd better follow him. Currently they know me as Lendras, and I think it's better that I don't 'rock the boat' so to speak. The quartermaster definitely knew it was a lie but didn't dig deeper. I just need to hope that holds up with the captain.
Making my way upstairs following the swarthy crewman, I'm led up to the deck then up another set of stairs to a cabin set high in the ship. Maps and instruments dot the room and sitting around the table in the center are two men, one I recognise as the quartermaster, and a lithe woman in blue robes.
Upon spotting me the quartermaster signals me over to the table as the crewman departs, closing the door behind him.
"Lendras. This is Captain Alric Sungleam. And Elena Harrow, our resident Tidesage."
The stern looking, silver-haired woman gives me a single curt nod before returning her attention to the map. The captain looks up from a strange silver instrument.
He's not a human. He's a Quel'dorei. Or maybe a half-elf of some sort. Definitely not one of my people though, far too fair for that. Without seeing his eyes and with his ears pinned up behind his hat it was hard to notice with his head down. Now I can see his pupil-less glowing blue eyes it's much more obvious.
"I'll cut to the chase. Ernalf was enthusiastic about work-sponsoring your trip to Theramore given the amusing novelty of a 'humble Night Elf' which frankly sounds like an oxymoron to me. However, you've been aboard my ship for less than two hours. We've not even left port yet and I already have Sentinels asking me and my crew about a missing noble. If I were to ask you 'are you Elandris Feathermoon?' What answer do you think I want to hear?"
I chuckle dryly. He didn't ask who I am, only 'what does he want to hear.' I like this arrogant bastard.
"I'm Lendras Brightbloom, Junior-Ranger of Starbreeze village. I wish I was a noble. Less work."
The captain smirks but covers it quickly.
"Then that shall be your answer. And it shall remain your only answer. I never carried anyone called Feathermoon aboard my ship. And I will hear no differently." He holds his hand out to shake with a charming smile.
I nod firmly, reaching out and grasping his hand to shake. He doesn't release the hand however, instead gripping it tightly with a frown.
"Let's say, you were our runaway Feathermoon? You Kaldorei are all quite close knit yes? What reason do you think our noble off on the lam would give for abandoning his people?"
He seems… strangely invested in my answer. Searching my thoughts for a moment I land on the story I want to tell.
"I… didn't know Elandris particularly well. But I know of him of course. Everyone does. The wantaway Druid. The golden eyed disappointment. I suppose he'd say he wanted to choose his own destiny. Not be tied to one by his family's fear. But you'd need to ask him of course."
"Oh of course." The captain snarks, releasing my hand from his ridiculously strong grip. "You are dismissed. I've never had a Kaldorei swabby before. It will be… interesting. To see if you can pull your weight. You have last cabin duty and first watch. That's six hours of serving our passengers in the evening followed six hours up in the nest. For two weeks at least. Do you think you can handle that?"
I nod but keep my mouth shut.
"Good. Pay is twenty-six copper per day. I'll be docking half for your passage fee. Will that be a problem?"
I think he's trying to needle me but he's either hilariously bad at it or my people have a far worse reputation than I think.
"No Captain. I appreciate you making things clear. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work for my travel."
I dip my head in a shallow bow. He looks a combination of amused and surprised. But he dismisses me with a smirk.
"I expect you'll want to head down to your cabin and get some sleep. I'd certainly advise you to stay below deck and well covered. Just in case."
Heading back into the bowels of the ship I let out a shuddering breath as the ship rocks in the water. The tension of the day has me exhausted and I really do need some proper sleep. Lowering myself gingerly onto the hammock I feel myself slipping away into unconsciousness almost as soon as my head hits my rolled-up cloak.
The sky flashes.
The cosmos turns.
The aspects observe.
The outsiders breathe.
Twin eyes of smouldering ruby observe your course.
Choose
Knight
It's a dangerous world out there, regardless of how it may appear. As such, you need a way to protect yourself from all the monsters that are roaming around. Now that is not something you never have to worry about, seeing as you are an undisputed genius talent of the sword, shield, and bow. With time, there are few who could stand against you.
Thieves' Tools
S-scout's to- Okay no. There's no defending these. A file, a set of lockpicks, a small mirror mounted on a metal handle, a set of narrow scissors, and a pair of pliers, wrapped up in a rawhide sheet - there's no other use for things like these except for breaking and entering. But these tools will take you far in that endeavor, and should any one tool break you'll find it replaced almost immediately. It's magical nonsense, who knows where they come from.
Sorcery - Oneiromancy (One Dot)
The magic of dreams. Entering, manipulating, and transersing. Unlike most forms of magic, this Path does not cost the caster any form of energy. [1] The dreamwalker gets flashes of the dreams of their target, with whom they must be in direct, physical contact. These flashes can, with some difficulty, be interpreted.
Spoiler: Chosen PerkLast edited: Feb 19, 2026 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Valor, Nikita02, AvidMiloReader27 and 545 others
Interlude: Alric Sungleam
My thoughts are turbulent as the boy leaves. There's a deep unease bubbling in my chest and I can't quite put a finger on why.
"Elena. How are we looking?"
She looks up from her charts with a frown as her mist elemental sputters up by the ceiling lantern.
"Not good. The tides churn and the naga are furious about something. The waters around Winterspring are treacherous. The outer edge of the sea ice sheet sits unusually far from land at this time of year giving them ample room to emerge in secrecy. We may have to take a wider route."
I let out an ungentlemanly snort.
"No chance. And risk being trapped by the Borean current? On a passenger run while we are this heavily loaded? Darling If you want us to drift into Northrend, I'm willing to oblige the almost certain suicide mission but at least fill me with rum first."
She rolls her eyes, I'm surprised she still has the muscles to do that after ten years.
"Then I recommend you let the crew know to expect action. There are multiple vortices this time. The sea spirits are restless. Whatever has them riled up, it's something big. I've not seen weather magic on this level since I left home."
"It's Winterspring," I shrug languidly, lighting my pipe with a quick burst of fire from my fingers. "What could possibly have wound them up there? One of their leaders getting chilly fins? It's an ecological dead zone since the Kaldorei grew their shrub. There aren't even any decent smuggling operations there."
"If I knew why they were there Alric I'd know how to kill them. If you are planning on skirting the ice then brief your crew. If we skirt the ice we risk narrow waters with nowhere to run if it gets dicey. Just a single bad decision and we are beached with no rescue coming."
I nod firmly. "I'll address them when we are underway." Ugh, talking to normal people. What a drag. Turning to my quartermaster I affect a wry grin.
"So Ern. How many Kaldorei did you swindle out of their life savings this time?"
He chuckles grimly.
"Not after last time boss. That sentinel chased me to halfway through fuckin Stonetalon. I lost me pants at the border and ended up moonin one of the bloody Tauren. No more gambling in Darnassus. I'll stay on da water. Where it's safe."
"Last time you told me that story it was the Barrens." I reply with a smirk.
"And when you told me that story it was Azshara, come on Ern." Elena adds with her own wry grin.
The swarthy man chuckles unrepentantly.
"Well I was drinkin a lot. Mighta been all three."
That gets an actual laugh out of me but he's doing this because he knows I'm uncomfortable.
"Okay okay. No more joking. Serious face. What's the deal Ern? Not like you to be so quiet."
He looks at me with a thin smile.
"Could say the same about you Cap. Why aren't ya minglin with the passengers seeing which comely maiden you can charm inta sharing yer cabin for the trip? Leaving soon and yer sat here mopin. Kid rattle ya that much?"
"You know, that is weird." Elena pipes up. "You haven't even raided the spirits yet. What's going on with you? I've not seen you this quiet since the time you 'accidentally' slipped into the Arathi ambassadors wife and got chased out of Hillsbrad."
"Nar it was his oldest daughter." Ern chuckles. "Charmed her right outta her handfasting didn't ya?"
"Both actually." I reply casually. "When you partake of an older vintage sometimes the contrast of a newer bottle is needed for proper appreciation."
Ern lets out a wild guffaw while Elena looks torn between impressed and disgusted. Turning to her I treat her to a wink.
"You don't get to judge me given you went through those mercs In Stranglethorn like you were knocking down dominoes." Instead of embarrassed however she just looks nostalgic.
"Those were the days. We swinging back to Booty Bay at any point?" she sighs.
I make to answer but Ern speaks over me.
"Pfft enough of o dat he's distractin us from da question. What's got you wound up?"
My mood turns pensive. That annoying little night elf downstairs is going to stick like gristle between my teeth. Grabbing my wine glass I throw half of it down, attempting to center myself.
It doesn't help.
"…fine. The kid. He... reminds me of someone."
Elena's expression twists.
"Must be someone important if it's got you acting like an elf again." She says gently, putting her hand on my shoulder.
"You could say that," I respond calmly, looking up at an old picture of Silvermoon up on my wall. "He reminds me of me. Or maybe a dark mirror of me. Back when I made the opposite choice he seems to have and ruined my life."
Dark times. Had I just the courage to step outside of our bubble I might not have been there when the scourge…
The wine glass explodes in my hand, cutting through my palm. Elena tuts and starts weaving mist into my hand.
"Alric… you can't keep beating yourself up about this there was nothing you could do!"
If they knew the truth, would they be so loyal? In the end I'm nothing but a coward.
A knock at the door drives the sour mood away as Elena continues to stitch my hand closed with her magic.
"Sir." A breathless crewman pants. "Loadings finished and we've gotta leave. The goblins have done a runner. One of their lads said the Elves are considerin locking down the port. It takes them a while to debate anything but if ya don't wanna get trapped here we should go."
"Heh. It takes the Kaldorei a week to debate what underwear they will be wearing in the following week but good job. Tell Sleet I said to cast us off and take the helm for now. I'll be up once Elena finishes patching me up."
Ern looks at me surprised.
"Finally letting Sleet have the helm for a bit? Thought you didn't trust him?"
I sigh.
"He's not Kalger. And I don't know his background well enough to treat him like a true second. I had four years with Kalger before he decided to get himself killed by a damn goblin of all things. What kind of dwarf loses to a goblin in a bar brawl? Regardless, it'll be a while before I trust Sleet the same way."
He shrugs in response.
"Not my problem. That's why I count crates instead of takin the wheel. Helms shite work. Lad seems alright. Nothin special, if ya still don't like him when we hit Ratchet then we can offload him and look for another. Always a bunch o freebooters there ta pick from."
"Fine. Let's get this cleaned up and get underway." Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Jonnoda, Nikita02, AvidMiloReader27 and 495 othe