[Alliance] Chapter Five: Session One

Appearing Characters: Arthas Menethil, Belysra Starbreeze, Celestine, Darius Crowley, Elfyra, Elissa Cross, Goldrinn/Valorinn, Halford Ramsey, Janius Feathermoon (Vision), Kel'Thuzad, Liam Greymane, Liiraluma, Lireesa Windrunner, Lyros Swiftwind, Malfurion Stormrage (Vision), Morra Starbreeze, Qiana Moonshadow, Ralaar Fangfire (Vision), Raluhi, Rhonin Windrunner, Riff, Sazzmi Gentlehorn, Seria, Shandris Feathermoon (Vision), Shudderwock, Talran Swiftwind, Tobias Mistmantle, Tol'vas Moonshadow, Uther Menethil, Vassandra Stormclaw, Velameestra Windrunner

Prologue

"These are the words they put in our mouths. This is the burden that were foisted upon me, all those years ago. The charge of the Black Dragonflight."

There was the sound of mirthless laughter.

"Humble, they called it. The origin of strength, within the world and within oneself. The Makers? Humble?! They know not the MEANING of such a word. To bear the weight of the world on one's shoulders for thousands of years. Burdens heavy enough to crush even the strongest of backs."

"Sometimes, I would spend years wondering if they ever even cared about us. If they even once considered the cruelty of their so-called blessings. A burden that would change the course of our world–our kind–forevermore. That would pit our very kin against us for making a decision we thought was right. But I am wise enough not to waste my time thinking of such things any longer."

The voice that spoke began to change and grew darker, and more worn.

"This is not THEIR world any longer. No... they sacrificed any claim to it the moment they turned their backs on us. The moment they ABANDONED their new toys once they had outlived their usefulness. This world. is. MINE. Azeroth has but ONE master. One whose pain, whose hatred, whose AGONY burns through the cavernous deeps. The world HEAVES at with my torment. Its wretched kingdoms quake beneath my rage."

"But at last... the world of Azeroth will bow before its true master... or it will break, and all will burn beneath the shadow of my wings. The twilight will sweep away all the old fights, the old conflicts... and then... there shall come a new dawn. The dawn of MY new paradise. The sun has set on this mortal world. Make peace with your end, for the hour of Twilight falls!"

September 3rd - September 9th

Tol’vas and a number of others, including Elissa Cross, Morra Starbreeze, Belysra Starbreeze, and a number of others, had come to Gilneas earlier than the rest of the party to seek allies and information. He had arrived in the Blackwald–the ancestral home of the druids of the pack. There he had met a group of worgen led by a man named Darius Crowley, the lord of Northgate and a rebel who had led a revolution against king Genn Greymane after the wall was built.

Tol’vas and his comrades followed Darius Crowley and his cohorts to speak about the situation. Notably, the worgen around Tal’doren could not transform into their human forms despite being able to speak. Tol’vas and the other experts present came to the conclusion that the only reason they were able to maintain their senses was because they were in the area. They made reference to being led there by a figure called the “Witchwood Piper”--a forest spirit–who Tol’vas heard more about from the leader of the harvest witches amongst the rebels. Their “leader” was Celestine of the Harvest, who was one of the more powerful amongst them. They seemed to have stumbled into a different form of druidism than the type that had been gifted by Cenarius, but it was hard to say where the origin of their druidism stemmed from. Celestine herself was an impressively powerful druid given they didn’t have thousands of years of druidic history, and she was instrumental in aiding in a ritual called the Ritual of Balance that was meant to be a sacred ritual that used the natural-occurring moonwell at the center of Tal’doren that allowed someone to come face-to-face with what would prevent them from controlling the worgen curse within them.

It was the hope that, eventually, the rebels could leave the Blackwald without the fury of Goldrinn taking over.

Tol’vas used as much of his own experiences as he could muster to help guide the balance that was taking place. As the week progressed, Tol’vas asked around for information about Alpha Prime’s pack, and he found that the rogue pack was effectively everywhere. It was a full-blown infestation, and most of the rebel worgen were part of that pack until they stumbled into the Blackwald, or they were brought there by other worgen who would leave for brief periods of time. Effectively, they had snatched worgen that came close to the Blackwald that were able to be confirmed to not be night elves.

There had been several incursions into the Blackwald led by wolf cult loyalists or the original night elf druids. It also seems that whatever influence Tal’doren had only worked if someone wanted to be changed–the loyalists obviously didn’t want to.

Celestine also offered to bring Tol’vas to the site where they left offerings to the Witchwood Piper if he wanted to perhaps meet them himself.

After nearly a week of helping with the preparations of the ritual, they came down to the finishing touches where they were going to begin actually trying the ritual. Vassandra Stormclaw, Lyros Swiftwind, and Talran Swiftwind contributed to the efforts, as did Morra and Belysra Starbreeze, and Elissa helped where she could. Arthas was intrigued, but ultimately acknowledged he would be of little help. Three beautiful wells had been constructed–almost birdbath sized–by Lyros. The first was called the Well of Tranquility. All across the stonework was iconography of vines, nature, and wisps. The second was called the Well of Fury–and bore a half dozen wolves howling at the moon. The final was a simple well with nothing but a single ornate symbol of the Scythe of Elune–the Well of Balance. The waters within were to bring tranquility and fury together in balance.

Belysra took a blessed vase and filled it with water from the natural moonwell and poured it into each of the wells. The leadership of the Gilneans were nearby, including Darius Crowley, Tobias Mistmantle, and Halford Ramsey. Halford himself had been instrumental in tracking down various rare herbs and minerals due to his keen intuition and insight. Belysra whispered a quick prayer in darnassian, and the other druids joined their magics into blessing the fountains.

Morra looked to Tol’vas and nodded, indicating he should join with the Scythe of Elune in hand.

Tol’vas used the power of the scythe to put a capstone upon the ritual, and he took his place behind the Well of Balance. He raised the scythe so that the blade was over it, and just gently dipped the tip of it into the water, which caused the waters to glimmer a brilliant silver. The stonework channeled the magic, and the connection between the three wells were forged.

Tol’vas flipped the water from the scythe at Darius, and he flinched as the water hit him. Some other worgen laughed, and Darius commented he didn’t think it worked. Lyros laughed and expressed that it may need to be a bit more intentional.

Vassandra gestured toward the Well of Tranquility, which would be the first step, and Tol’vas approached and drank from the well. He then drank from the Well of Fury, and then the Well of Balance. He then sat down between them and started to focus. He felt an icy chill–a refreshing one–from the Well of Tranquility, the sensation of a spiced ale from the Well of Fury, and the Well of Balance tasted like pure water.

He began to feel the magic of the place flow through him, and the world began to spin. He felt like he was falling over and over and over again, and he opened his eyes. Leaves had been cast around him, like he had just fallen into a pile of them, and he heard a familiar voice: Shandris.

She was much younger than the last time Tol’vas saw her, and Tol’vas peeked her head out of the fallen autumn leaves. He was in one of the many groves he used to play in when he was very young, just outside the village. There was another young kaldorei boy–Janius, Shandris’s younger brother. He was hiding up in a tree and he hissed at Tol’vas.

Tol’vas ducked back into the leaves, and he realized he was far younger than he was. Maybe ten at the oldest. He couldn’t help but smile, but then he smelled smoke, and burning. He emerged from the pile of leaves and he could see the column of smoke rising from the village–Ara-Hinam.

Tol’vas’s mother limped out of the village along with the survivors that were fleeing the destruction. Shandris was being carried off by a family friend, but she was shouting for Janius, and she was reaching back toward the burning village. No one saw Tol’vas, but he was more powerful than he was before. Perhaps this time Shandris’s younger brother could be saved.

Tol’vas looked back at the column of smoke, and he took a few steps toward it, but then he shook his head. He wasn’t actually there. He started to look around for something that seemed out of place. He looked toward those he knew, and he then looked back toward the village, and he reached out, trying to conjure the magic he had. All of his powers were still within his reach. He flexed his fingers, and then decided to run towards the fire.

He decided he had to try to do something, even if it was just a vision or something not real. It was real enough, and he couldn’t just abandon his family.

He could hear Shandris shouting and crying, though her voice grew more and more distant with every step he took toward the village. He rationalized that Shandris was safe, but Janius was not. He pushed to the edge of the village. Demons stalked the streets and plucked through the ashes. They looked towards him and brandished their weapons, then began to charge. There were felguards, felhounds, and other misshapen beasts.

Tol’vas reached out to the Dream and requested aid, and a bolt of lightning pierced from the sky and chained through weapons and armor, which burnt the demons to a crisp and caused them to vanish into ash. But then they reformed exactly where they were. He banished them, smote them, and destroyed them time and time and time again, but they always returned.

Before, when he had fled, he had wished he could have saved the people that were lost. But he couldn’t then, and he couldn’t now either. Every single time he destroyed a demon, another replaced it, and his strength had started to fade. He wasn’t powerful enough in the past, but he wasn’t powerful enough now either. He couldn’t change what happened.

He then realized he simply had to accept that was what it was.

With that moment of acceptance, the demons vanished. The village was not burning, but it was empty. He walked through the tranquil paths and recalled the bakeries and the shops, and the places where he had always seen birds perched.

Tol’vas turned and saw Janius, or rather, a man that looked like what Janius could have looked like if he had the opportunity to grow up.

Janius came over to Tol’vas and took his hand. He placed something in his palm and smiled at Tol’vas.

He pulled his hand away, and one of the little tarts that Janius and Tol’vas used to steal from the bakery was in Tol’vas’s hand. Tol’vas looked up, but then Janius was gone. Tol’vas wiped away a tear, but then he heard a heartbeat.

It was similar to what he heard a week ago. It was a strange essence.

Tol’vas blinked and looked around, and he was no longer where he was. He was in a familiar grove–the one where he had first encountered Goldrinn. Something broke through the brush, and he heard heavy panting. A massive paw stepped through the foliage, and Tol’vas saw Goldrinn, his snow white fur mottled with blood, and his hide punctured with demonic weapons. He grunted and then collapsed in the grove.

The massive wolf’s eye lulled over to Tol’vas.

Tol’vas walked over to Goldrinn and put a hand on the wolf’s snout.

Goldrinn laughed darkly.

Tol’vas heard two voices behind him, and a familiar conversation played out. Tol’vas turned.

It was a younger Malfurion, and also Tol’vas himself, clutching to the fang of Goldrinn.

He put a hand on Tol’vas’s shoulder.

Tol’vas knew how this scene played out. It was the last time Tol’vas remembered speaking with Malfurion, and Tol’vas had chosen to turn away and flee with the fang, which had started something that he was still trying to put an end to now. Tol’vas thought about how he could stop himself, and thus nothing that followed would happen.

Tol’vas fell silent as he thought.

Tol’vas heard the heartbeat again, and his vision grew fuzzy. Tol’vas shook his head to reorient himself, and he heard Goldrinn chuckle quietly, and then sigh. It may have been his last breath.

Then Tol’vas found himself back at the wells, standing this time. However, no one else was there. Until he heard a deep voice that sent chills down his spine.

Tol’vas turned, and a figured stepped into view. He was a massive, black-furred worgen with scars crisscrossing his body. There were flecks of white is his fur, and he bore deep, burning, golden eyes. It was Alpha Prime.

Tol’vas shook his head.

Alpha Prime laughed.

Alpha Prime gestured, and more people appeared.

There was another heartbeat.

Alpha Prime started to laugh.

He vanished in a gust of wind. In that moment, the heartbeat grew louder. Tol’vas looked down at the scythe in his hand. The fang of Goldrinn was pulsing with a brilliant silver light. His voice materialized in Tol’vas’s mind.

Tol’vas’s eyes opened, and he was kneeling once more in the same place he was standing just a moment ago. All the people in the crowd were watching. Elissa was chewing on her nails. Belysra was watching stone-eyed. The scythe, however, was still glowing. Tol’vas lifted the scythe, and the heartbeat started again. It was coming from the scythe.

Tol’vas grinned and replied quietly.

The metal and bone of the scythe shifted and swirled as it transformed and grew in power. The silver energy coalesced into it, and it created a single drop along the blade that then fell to the ground. Beautiful silver flowers bloomed out, which created a massive field of beautiful peaceblooms with silver petals. At its epicenter was a sphere of pure, glowing light nestled amongst the flowers.

Something small and fuzzy popped up out of the light, and the glowing sphere moved. It wasn’t a sphere. It’s a small creature that was curled into a perfect ball, like unbroken snow. Its eyes opened, and it looked around. It was a small wolf with a snow-white pelt and bright eyes. Its paws were a bit too large for its body, and its heart beat strongly.

It looked at Tol’vas, and cocked its head.

The other druids were completely speechless, and Elissa was trying not to cry from how cute the wolf pup was.

The young wolf looked up and around at the forest, then nodded.

The wolf trotted over and looked up at Tol’vas.

The wolf raced into the dense forests as the druids fully comprehended what had happened.

Tol’vas went off after the reborn Goldrinn.

Meanwhile, back in Karazhan, Luma had spent most of their time in the library researching Azerothian culture. They had also tried to cook. It didn’t go well, and they were shooting glass bottles with draenic-tech guns. There was a great deal of cursing, and also attempted small crafts that generally turned out well, but they were seemingly getting bored quite frequently and were jumping between projects and repairing the collateral damage from their own dealings.

Uther was spending a lot of time in self-reflection as he reviewed everything that they had found out and the emotional conversations that had been had. He focused a lot on his actions in the past, and how those actions had affected the people around them. Looking for a productive way to put his mind to work, he did a great deal of drills against magical, animated chess pieces that had gone rogue. He had once again picked up the shield, and was working to get used to balancing Light’s Vengeance in one hand while he wielded a shield on his other arm.

Seria had continued to just hang out with Riff and had done more lessons with Elfyra. She had started to pick up more direct druidism with Seria’s aid, as opposed to the minor feats of naturalism she had been capable of before.

Vel had procured a scrying component from Medivh, which happened to talk. It tried to make chatter while Vel was focusing, but quickly apologized. Her first target was Windrunner Spire, and the place was in complete ruin, however there didn’t seem to be orcs in the vicinity.

She then turned her attention toward her uncle Rhonin in Dalaran, which was floating a scarce few miles away. The mirror began to cloud up, and then it cleared. Rhonin was walking out of the Violet Hold, and she caught snippets of sendings as he dealt with his business for the day. He seemed to be stressed and frustrated, and several of them were redirected toward Modera. However, he was well-groomed and well-dressed in Kirin Tor robes. He made his way back home, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, he threw the sending stone aside.

Raluhi welcomed Rhonin home and said that Talath was working on supper and he was glad that Rhonin made it home in time to eat it warm. Rhonin asked if Raluhi heard any other news, but a response from Raluhi couldn’t be heard.

Raluhi entered the view of the scrying sensor, and he put a hand on Rhonin’s shoulder to assure him that he was sure Galadin was safe, but Rhonin retorted the last thing Galadin was doing was being safe. He commented that he might see if Vereesa or Giramar could find word in Lordaeron, but he knew everything was going back to hell up there too. As Rhonin dropped into a chair, he unknowingly looked directly into Vel’s scrying censor.

It was like he was talking directly to her, and Vel felt her heart twist as she scrying faded. Vel chewed on her lip, and then she tried to scry Galadin, but it failed. She took a moment to sit back and collect her thoughts, and ultimately accepted there was nothing that could be done at the moment as she had no idea where Galadin could have possibly gone.

Given the scrying was complete on the area around Windrunner Spire, and it seemed safe enough to go, she went and found Uther just in time to see him suplex one of the animated pawns in the chess room and shield bash another.

Uther’s face blanks as he realized exactly what Vel had said, but he shook his head and gestured to her.

Vel nodded and pulled upon her magic. With a quick incantation, the pair of them were promptly teleported to the other side of the continent, in Quel’thalas. They took in the scene as they appeared, as Uther had never been there before. They were greeted by a magnificent manor on the edge of a bluff, but it was crumbling and it had seen better days. Pathways and rubble were overturned, and all around there were scars of battle across the otherwise beautiful Eversong Woods.

For the first time in a very, very long time, it wasn’t spring. Leaves were falling off trees that had never dropped them before. There were unburied bodies exposed to the elements, and evidence of war. However, it didn’t appear that orcs presently occupied the mansion itself, or the area immediately around it. Uther’s brow furrowed at the sight, as it was a grim reminder that things at home would be very different than when they had left.

The two of then headed towards the crypts located near Windrunner Spire. Doors had been ripped off of hinges, and rough barricades had been erected, but there was so much damage to the place that it barely counted as a fortification anymore, and anything of value had been torn from it by orcs or elven resistance that sought to deprive the orcs of it.

Vel’s eyes hovered over several entrances that likely lead to rooms she had once found sanctuary in as a child. Pathways and bridges lead to small islands off the shore, but many of them were crumbled, ruined, and collapsed into the hungry sea. There were statues that had been marred and defaced.

In the distance stood Windrunner Village, which seemed to have activity in it–likely what was present of the orcish war bands that roved around Quel’thalas. However, they were far enough away that the lone vampyr and human wouldn’t be seen.

The crypts were near the small buildings that the staff of the manor lived. The crypt itself wasn’t subterranean, but instead it overlooked the bluff and have tombs and markers for the various Windrunners of the past. The place seemed to have been looted, but the graves didn’t seem to have been desecrated–either because they didn’t find it, or they didn’t think to look.

Vel lead the way into the crypt and it was obvious the path to the tomb she was seeking was finely memorized. She stopped at one of the alcoves, which seemed to have been steadily absorbed by the natural world as roots wove their way into it. Vel’s eyes were on it as she addressed Uther.

Uther nodded and, together they pried an opening into the roots and other natural growth that had started to surround the body inside. At this point, the body of Nirenn Windrunner was nothing but bones and remnants of cloth, with only her jewelry intact. Quickly, but respectfully, the remains were moved into Vel’s portable hole so they could be transferred safely back to Karazhan. They put the grave back in order when they were finished, and Vel carefully rolled the portable hole back up.

Vel gave Uther a soft smile and started to lead the way back toward the entrance of the crypts. Her eyes went back to Windrunner Village and the activity that was very much present, and her eyes hardened. A fang plucked at the edge of her lip, and a thought bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Vel took a few steps back, her eyes on the village, and then she turned and disappeared just beyond the entrance of the crypt again. She withdrew her spellbook, opened it, and started to chant an incantation that Uther recognized as the spell she had used to commune with the spirit of Ash’alah just before the white tiger had been resurrected. And also with the spirit of Vol’jin on behalf of Zulfli’jin on Zandalar. However, the magic she was conjuring was much stronger this time as she channeled more of her energy into it.

As it did during the other instances she had used the spell, the are around her seemed to have its color bled from it as the colorless world of the spiritual realm overlaid upon the material and thinned the veil between them.

Instead of focusing on a singular spirit, this time she was addressing all the restless spirits that perhaps haunted the area, recently or otherwise. As the magic pulsed, she felt an ambience all over the place, like a presence that crept in many different directions. Some of them were old, some were very old, and others were very new.

She felt an imperceptible affirmation from all around her that seemed to come from more than one source. Vel’s eyes, which were glowing with the power she was channeling, flicked around in acknowledgement.

A chorus of voices answered with “it does,” and as Uther watched he could see spiritual energy start to coalesce around where Vel was channeling her magic.

The chorus of voices answered once more, a cry of “one and all” echoing through the area.

This time there wasn’t a spoken answer. Instead a streak of lightning coursed through the sky, and the dark clouds overhead swirled. There was the sound of a distant, imperceptible stampede. Then, a thick fog rolled up from the ocean, and galloping from within it were the spirits of dozens beasts. There were lynxes, hawkstriders, dragonhawks, and unicorns, and upon each of their backs were the ghostly forms of elvish warriors. There were Farstriders, magisters, Spellbreakers, Guardians of the Eternal Spring, and any number of others, all forming a hunt of vengeful spirits.

Spiritual energy shifted from the crypts as well, and several ghostly figures of Windrunners stepped out from the hallowed passage as the hunt began to gather. One of the figures caught Vel’s eye: the first of them to step forward. She was an elvish woman who wore the armor of a Farstrider, and she had a spectral copy of the bow Thas’dorah slung over her back. Her neck ended in an endless stream of smoke, and it was the beheaded spirit of what could only be the spirit of Lireesa Windrunner, Vel’s grandmother, who had lost her life attempting to defend the royal family when the amani trolls arrived to murder them.

The spirit turned and looked at Vel, and two motes of burning, spiritual light floated exactly where her eyes should have been. The elven spirit gave Vel a nod. As the elven forces rode into the sky, a massive, ghostly unicorn rode up next to the ghost of the former ranger-general, and she leaped onto its back. She, and the other Windrunner spirits joined the hunt. Lireesa’s ghostly voice echoed over the growing din of the newly summoned army.

The war cry echoed across the hunt, and in the distance they could see more spiritual energy that flowed from other points in the surrounding lands as more vengeful spirits materialized to join the spectral host, and then it charged toward Windrunner Village.

From the distance, Vel and Uther could hear shouts and screams as spectral arrows rained down upon it, and the hunt charged through the midst of the village to kill whatever orcs were present, and whatever dared to approach. Given the sheer power the host possessed, it was likely it would be around for a while.

Kel’thuzad stirred in the back of Vel’s mind, and he mused that he was most impressed, though he had a suspicion that Deatholme, which was visible from where they stood on the peak of the bluff, might affect their strength and empower them further. However, he hoped her people would be willing to hear them out after their vengeance was stated should some among them not dissipate.

Vel acknowledged him mentally as she watched the host rain hell upon the orcs, the blue color of the magic in her eyes flickering to a silently angry magenta. She then looked over at Uther as she conjured her magics once again to spirit the pair of them away.

Uther wore a pained expression, but he knew, in his heart, that if he were to die and was given the chance to continue helping the living, even as a vengeful spirit, he would have also taken the opportunity.

Vel released her magic again, and the two of them were once more taken to Karazhan.

Many of the worgen in Gilneas had attempted the Ritual of Balance, and several had succeeded. Many coped with those they had loved and lost, and those they had betrayed or killed. Tol’vas learned a lot of things about the people there, and their baggage. However, Darius Crowley was unable to complete the ritual due to his baggage about his daughter, Lorna Crowley. It seemed to have been successful enough for him to leave the Blackwald, but he was unable to take his humanoid form.

Luckily, it was not a process that had to happen all in one day.

September 10th

In the morning, a number of the remainder of the party was able to make their way to Gilneas. They met Tol’vas at the outskirts of the Blackwald. As soon as they arrived, Elissa ran forward and gave Vel a huge hug. She then hugged Uther, and then Luma.

They looked to Tol’vas, and then nearby, they saw the young wolf that was sitting on the ground next to him. Vel tilted her head at the wolf and commented that it seemed Tol’vas had already found a friend. Tol’vas said that he was actually an old friend, and Vel added that they didn’t look particularly old, as they were clearly still a puppy.

Tol’vas looked down at the wolf and then just bluntly said that he was actually a baby god, and Vel blinked as she processed the statement. She then looked down at the wolf, who spoke up himself.

Introductions are made to the young wild god, and Tol’vas gives them a quick overview of what happened that couldn’t have been portrayed effectively earlier using magic.

They head to the ramshackle village that had been built there. There were humans present now, along with some of the worgen still trapped in their wolven forms. Uther went to find Arthas, and the rest of the group were lead to a central area of the village square where Darius Crowley was waiting.

He looks at Luma.

Darius looked at Tol’vas.

Luma laughs.

He then looked over to Vel.

Vel smirks faintly.

Darius led them into a shack that was being used as a meeting room. There was a map of the Silverpine Woods and Gilneas, and there were roughly-hewn icons and pictures on them. He points at a handsome man that was not wearing a shirt, and he had torn trousers and a long coat. He had a spiked bat at his side as well as a pistol.

He then gestured at a woman who was dressed in feathers and leathers with alchemical and herbalism tools.

In the corner, there was also a young man with a messy mop of black hair, and a well-maintained mustache and beard. He was as well-dressed as a man could be for being in the middle of the woods for several months.

He took his hat off and put it over his heart as he gave a small bow.

Darius crosses his arms and leans back as he scratches the hair under his chin.

Vel chuffed quietly.

Tol’vas mused that he doubted they’d need to siege anything given the likelihood of being able to draw Alpha Prime out when it was time, and Darius agreed. Celestine also piped up about the “special weapon” that had been provided by the Cenarion Circle, and she withdrew a small vial of water from her clothing.

Throughout the entire exchange, Luma had actually been eyeing up the gun in Tobias’s possession while they nodded along, though they didn’t seem to be fully listening. Luma heard mention of a “special weapon” and promptly looked up at the statement, but upon seeing it was just a vial of water, they returned their focus to the gun.

Tobias noticed Luma looking.

He slid the flintlock over to Luma, and Luma pulled their own crystalline and gold gun out of its holster and slid it over to Tobias.

Tobias’s eyes widened as he looked at the gun.

Luma examined the flintlock and got a charmed expression on their face.

He gestures to Luma’s gun.

Tobias nodded and they exchanged their guns back as Luma tried to not look too disparaging.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group was still focused on the conversation concerning Alpha Prime.

All the worgen that had undergone the ritual suddenly get quiet, and there’s a certain degree of tension in the air.

He cleared his throat.

Celestine nods.

Halford pushed up his eyeglasses.

Tobias sighed.

Belysra came in at that point.

Luma looked up at the question.

Vel chuffed.

He glanced around the group.

Vel chuffed again.

Vel glanced at Halford Ramsey, who adjusted his glasses confidently. The other worgen seemed completely shocked, however.

Her eyes flickered back over to Crowley, as he was the leader of the group. Darius laughed.

Vel nodded and then looked back at Darius.

Halford smiled.

He looks at Luma.

Luma and Halford go off to speak, and at that moment Uther returns from finding Arthas and Darius looks him up and down.

Darius put a claw on his shoulder.

Tol’vas, Vel, Elissa, and Uther meet with a group of harvest witches as well as Celestine, and they set off into the woods to find the Witchwood Piper. She conjured some small animals and greeted them warmly. She requested that they lead them to the Witchwood Piper, and the creatures took off into the woods.

The woods were very dark, foggy, and spooky, and Elissa promptly held onto Vel’s arm as they walked in. Suddenly, they heard a horrific sound that echoed through the trees. Celestine looked up and told the group to follow the beasts and keep their heads down. The group hid, and a shadow appeared over the moon in the fog. Something landed near where they were originally.

The creature had a long, gangling forms with webbed wings, and a massive green claw lurched out of the fog. It scraped against a nearby claw.

It looked at the branch it mistook as a person, and then released another warbling noise. As the horrific sound rippled through the trees, they clamped their hands on their ears. The creature lifted into the air.

Celestine exhaled.

Elissa looked rather dizzy.

Eventually, more woodland creatures started to make their way in, and they started to hear a sound. It was alluring, and impossibly ethereal. The harvest witches withdrew their offerings. There were a lot of drinks, foods, sweets, flowers, and sheafs of paper. The witches laid them out.

The music stopped.

Her voice came from all around them.

A wind came through the glade, and the paper folded itself into small shapes. There was a paper goose, a paper man, and a paper frog that were carried off in the wind. More paper swirled around them.

The paper creatures stopped and pointed at Tol’vas.

Tol’vas summoned the young white wolf, Valorinn, and the voice seemed to panic.

As Vel narrowed her eyes, suspicious about the sudden switch in the tone of the “nature spirit”, she noticed full that there was nothing druidic about what was going on. The entire grove was coated in arcane magic, and all the paper creatures were being controlled by a more widespread, but weaker version of an [Animated Objects] spell.

Vel chuffs to herself quietly. Tol’vas smelled a familiar whiff of musk and sweet perfumes, and he sensed that someone was invisible nearby, hiding behind one of the trees..

Vel and Tol’vas exchange looks, and then Vel followed Tol’vas’s gaze to the tree where the spirit seemed to be hiding.

Vel had started to walk toward the tree, and Tol’vas did the same, coming along the opposite side in a pincer formation. Celestine and the harvest witches were looking on with obvious perplexion, as it seemed as if this behavior was incredibly out of character for their so-called nature spirit.

They heard running as whatever the invisible creature was started to run through the woods. Vel’s eyes snapped to her direction and she harnessed her arcane magic and hurled a [Dispel Magic] spell in the creature’s direction, which immediately stripped her of the invisibility that had been masking her. She was a satyr with long, bright pink hair, violet fur, and pink skin. She had some baubles on her tail and a pipe on her hip. She looked back at Vel with a look of sheer terror.

The satyr had not stopped running. The harvest witches were stunned, and Tol’vas had started to turn into a worgen and leap into a chase, but Vel reached over and grabbed him before he could, and she promptly used [Dimension Door] to translocate them both directly in front of the fleeing satyr. Tol’vas lunged at the demon and she fell backwards and immediately raised her hands to protect her face as she curled up into a defensive ball.

Uther looked intently at the satyr that Vel and Tol’vas had just cornered, and she seemed to be genuinely terrified, especially of Tol’vas. He didn’t get any sense that what Celestine had said about the Witchwood Piper wasn’t true, or at least, the satyr seemed to be genuine in her belief that she was helping them somehow.

The satyr had scrambled to her knees and was now sitting in a begging position.

Celestine got up from her kneeling position next to the offerings.

Celestine looks on as the other harvest witches watch.

Celestine started to approach, and as she did, she shifted into her worgen form.

Celestine reached down and pulled one of the offering wineskins from her hip.

The harvest witch shifted back into her human form.

Sazzmi nods slowly.

Celestine smiles.

Tol’vas looked around, knowing that the satyrs are inherently corrupting to the world around them. He doubted the satyr was anything special, but the corruption was also not an immediate thing. The woods were dark and spooky, but they were not corrupted with fel, which meant that the satyr had probably not stayed in one place for long, for one reason or another, and the Blackwald was large.

Sazzmi got back to her feet, and the group gathered up everything to head back toward the worgen camp. Sazzmi was quite downturned and seemed to be making herself look as small as possible.

Sazzmi nods.

Vel took Sazzmi’s pipes to examine them, and determined they were magical, but they were ultimately largely harmless and were given back to the satyr. There was a theory that because she was wandering around, that was probably why the woods were spooky, but not actively corrupt.

As they were walking, there were a few times that Vel had just shaken her head and looked around, as if she had heard something, but then she didn’t see anything immediately. Elissa asked her if something was wrong, and Vel said as much.

Tol’vas shrugged.

Vel focused on a raven as it swooped by, and its caws materialized into a greeting to Sazzmi, who waved back at it.

As the group returned, the other night elves materialized and demanded to know what a satyr was doing there. Morra promptly drew her blade, but Celestine talked Morra down, as ultimately the people living there were the ones that would judge her. Morra acknowledged it, but said that she would be watching her.

She was taken to speak to Darius while Tol’vas mused a theory to the other druids about whether or not the ritual could be modified to contain the corruption Sazzmi gave off.

Qiana blew her hair out of her eyes.

September 11th

The group headed off the following day and Vel conjured phantom steeds to allow them to move more quickly. They were able to complete the journey in about two and a half days. They felt themselves pass through the disturbance, as it seemingly cut through Gilneas.

September 13th

They could see the grim woods of Gilneas did not really stop outside the Blackwald, but they were not as twisted. There were abandoned villages that had been raided, and far off in the distance they could see the sprawling districts of Gilneas in the bay.

Fortunately, they were able to avoid any interference. Eventually, they entered the highlands next to the mountain chain past the King’s Gate, and they made their way further and further toward Greymane Manor. Eventually, they got within eyesight, and they could see lit watchtowers.

Even from here, it was clear the Greymane Manor town had been transformed into a fortress. There was a bustling of humans, and the group made their way straight down the road. Suddenly, they heard warning bells and a thin net with fishing wire that was woven with silver fishing hooks blocked out the passage from one watchtower to the next. Figures were pointing guns through murder holes at the arriving group.

The guards looked at each other and started to laugh.

He looks at Tol’vas.

Another guard spoke up and muttered that the blonde one looked like Arthas, as his pa had seen Arthas before the wall went up.

The guards chattered amongst themselves for a moment before one of them spoke up again.

Luma pushed up their glasses as the guards looked at each other.

Luma started laughing in the background and one of the guards demanded to know what they were laughing at while the other ordered to let the net down and alert the king.

Tol’vas started asking the guards about Liam’s stance on his politics, but ultimately as the net dropped Vel and Luma urged him through as he could ultimately ask Liam himself once they met him. Luma made a comment about why Tol’vas didn’t ask them what Liam’s favorite food was too, and one of the guards piped up that he personally liked haggis, which prompted more questions that Luma chose to ignore the answers to.

The guards watched them as they continued, and a few horse riders arrived to escort them. The gates were opened, and they saw a red-haired man in his forties. He was well-dressed and mounted on a horse. His top hat was in his lap, and he had a long rifle at his side. He leaned forward on his horse, and a contingent of guards was lined up behind him.

Liam hops off his horse and steps forward. He flipped his hat onto his head, and he spun his rifle in his hand and laid it over his shoulder.

Liam snorted.

Liam had a keen look in his eyes as he looked up at Tol’vas, and then at the other Gilneans, and they got the sense he knew they were worgen.

This page was last edited on August 18, 2023, at 08:06 PM

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