Memoirs of Light- Part 2

“And so the campaign in the North has long since come to a close, leaving the Crusade with a more global purpose. Certainly many Crusaders, myself included, stayed behind in the frozen north for quite some time, overseeing garrisons and keeping a watchful eye on the remaining restless dead. Others returned to the lands most blighted by the plague of undeath, seeking to put those lands to rights and establish new homes and new garrisons there.

For myself, my duties are largely over for the moment. I believe that my skills, my Light is needed elsewhere. My own people suffer, the great divide between those who betrayed the nation of Quel'Thalas and those amongst the Sin'dorei has only grown and strife has lead to the deaths of many loyal Sin'dorei, diminishing our chances of rebuilding.

My first task is to see where I am most needed, and to do this, I must come to understand the nature of our allies better. It has been long since I've walked amongst them, long since I've taken up my duties as a Blood Knight. Although I am somewhat estranged from the others of my Order given my time with the Crusade, I retain my title and my skill in battle, and will go where I am needed most.

I have started this journey in the place most likely to cause me personal distress; that is amongst the Forsaken. Long have I heard tales of their wretched deeds, and of course I am intimately familiar with what they did at the Wrathgate. I have taken it upon myself to travel amongst them to ascertain how deeply the corruption within them lies. Can they be saved? Can they atone?

My first glimpses of who and what they are tell me that they cannot. Darkness spreads its roots deep, and the innocent men and women who would later rise to become walking corpses have lost the innocence and love within them. The spark of Light that resides in all living creatures is snuffed out, their hearts a black pit where evil can suckle until it is ready to emerge. It is for this reason that I view them with great distrust, making every effort to distance myself from them.

It is here I must make an important point, in fact the most important point. In recent times, we have come into contact with races and ways (particularly the Pandaren) who have stressed the importance of patience, serenity, and mental balance. These concepts are indeed noble, and can help cleanse one's spirit, however they also contain a hidden danger. Meekness is a virtue surely, but only when it does not lead to complacency and tolerance of darkness. One can voice one's opinion against an evil all one wants, but if you do nothing, if you allow it to grow, then it will one day consume you and those you love. To allow darkness to grow while meekly decrying its existence is a dangerous path indeed.

Those of my order were not created to be meek. We were forged to be the blades of righteous vengeance. We were trained to be implements of war. The Light teaches us compassion, but it also teaches us that it will stand against the darkness. I will not sit idly by and watch evil grow amongst my allies or my people, no more than I would allow our enemies to take a single step into beloved Quel'Thalas. There is a time and place for the application of violence, and against darkness that time is clear indeed.

I am obligated by the laws of Quel'Thalas to fight beside our allies. This does not mean I must accept them, nor does it mean I must offer them Light when they are aberrations of that very concept. Indeed, how could one even heal such a dead thing when the very magic of life burns them away? No, when a Forsaken falls beside me in battle, mortally wounded, I give them absolution and the peace of death, as they should have been given long ago. My blade was meant to rend in the name of the Light, not to coddle the weak who believe in appeasing that which we stand again. Just my thoughts on the matter.”

~An excerpt from the memoirs of Britanielle 'Britany' Dawnblaze, Paladin of the Argent Crusade.

Memoirs of Light

“I remember clearly the moment that the Light first called to me. It is a moment that will forever be etched in my memory. It came not as a song, not as a flash or blaze of power, but as a glimmer of sunlight slanting down through the smokey fog of war. In a last stand against the Scourge at Fairbreeze Village, I saw the sunlight and was moved to stand within it. Though I was but a simple artisan fighting for my family, my children, and my lands, I felt the sunlight on my skin and I knew then, even in the darkest moment of my life, that I would always walk within it.

How odd is it, that one's loved ones can be snuffed out like the flame of a candle? That one necromantic spell can slay innocent children and wipe away brave defenders whose cause is just? How can a moment set one's heart to stop beating, and yet also force one to live on? The sunlight, the beam of Light from the heavens above was the only place that was safe, and of all I cared for, none were left to retreat to the Anchorage with us.

Was I bitter as I watched the coast of our nation slip away, leaving my fallen to the enemy? Bitterness cannot even describe it. Pain is not a suitable word. It is something you forever carry, and it taints you as it spreads. I was indeed bitter. Bitter enough to want revenge. To dedicate my being to that righteous cause. Though I knew nothing of warfare, nothing of strength, when Quel'Thalas died I knew I would do anything to bring those who had done this, who had taken my family and my life from me, to justice.

Even as I walked a new path, even as I gained strength at arms and joined the newly founded Blood Knights, I still felt the sunlight within me, warming a single point within the black abyss that my heart had become. As I brought my blade against darkness, as I strove each day to force the Light to my will, that little bit of warmth grew. I knew it was there, though I denied it for so long, for how could I not? How could I so easily give up my revenge, the only thing left to me?

And then it was over. The fighting, the struggle for survival. We had won, and the Sunwell was restored. I could feel it deep within me, feel the Light as it came to me not because I forced it, but because it had always given of itself. It had always been there, I had simply been too consumed by the evil I let lurk in my heart to see it.

I heeded its call again. I know now that I was spared for a reason, a purpose greater than revenge. My family did not perish in vain, but died so that I could learn this most valuable lesson and bring righteous justice and the warmth of the Light to those most in need.

I found others like me, others who had taken up the call. They came from every land, from every people. They gathered together in the dawn, they raised a new banner of hope. They marched to war on the tides of death that had already claimed too many nations. I marched with them, and set the Crusade above my own petty needs and thoughts.

The men and women who marched beside me became as my brothers and sisters. When they could not pronounce my elven name, the humans amongst them named me Britany, and I took up this new name in the spirit of camaraderie that bound us all together. We fought, we laughed, we grew into a fighting force of Light that nothing could stand against, and we threw down a King.

I walk now always in the sunlight, in the bright warmth that first called to me on the blackest day of my life. Though I will always mourn those who have passed on, I will always be comforted by the faith that has seen me through it all, to the point where justice has been done at long last.”

~An excerpt from the memoirs of Britanielle 'Britany' Dawnblaze, Paladin of the Argent Crusade.

Fel Eyes

House Dawnsea Pandarian Expedition Command

Krasarang

Pre-Dawn

“Gather around the map table everyone, let's go!” the Scout Captain bellowed. The small encampment instantly stirred, Sin'dorei rangers responding to the words immediately and jumping to their feet, hurrying to stand before the small table and the magical lantern that illuminated it. The Captain nodded as the nine elves gathered, stabbing a finger down towards a spot on the map.

“We have ourselves a situation here,” he began, retracting his hand and folding them both behind his back. He began to pace as he spoke. “Approximately eight hours ago a Horde lumber party was ambushed in this part of Krasarang. They were hit by surprise near the ruins I've circled on the map. Only a few made it back to report in, and it looks like we've got a Mogu slaver group running out of that location.”

He paused, looking each of the Sin'dorei in the eyes, as if measuring their mettle, “I know some of you have newly signed on with House Dawnsea's rangers. Today you'll be proving yourself. In a quarter hour we're going to move on this position and liberate any of the lumber party who have been captured. There are three ravines leading up into the ruins, and we'll be taking advantage of them to ascend out of the jungle. Memorize the map, get your kit, and get ready to go. Dismissed.”

Of all the unexpected things that could happen, a hand shot up from amongst the rangers. The Captain's eyebrows rose so rapidly one might think they would jump off of his face as he stared down the elf that was still holding her hand up. One of the new recruits, she didn't quite fit in with the others with her faded leather garb and her lack of any red and gold to denote her place amongst the Sin'dorei. The Captain signed and nodded, “Yes Recruit Summerglade, what is it?”

Tylirel had meant to launch into a detailed explanation of why the plan he'd just presented was not a good idea, but the minute the Captain and the other eight rangers began to focus on her, she felt a panic setting in. Unused to having so many people looking at her, unaccustomed to speaking in front of people, and especially nervous about talking about something Really Important, Tylirel could almost feel her vocal chords retracting in protest, “Eeee...I-I...that i-is...um...d-don't you think t-that maybe we should um. You see, the M-mogu would be expecting....I-I...”

She paused, shifting nervously from one foot to another as several of the other rangers began to smirk and the Captain began to glare. In a rush of breath, she blurted out what she meant to say somewhat inelegantly, “I-I think that w-would be walking right into an ambush! We s-should use the jungle. S-sir...”

She fell silent, biting her lip and looking anywhere but at the people staring at her. It was fine when she knew she wouldn't have to speak to people for long, but this conversation with those whom she was going to be working with for the long term was terribly nerve-wracking. Even as the thought passed through her mind she felt her spirits sink when the Captain began to laugh.

“Why don't you leave the strategical planning to me, Summerglade? I've been doing this for quite some time you know,” he said condescendingly. Several of the other elves snickered and Tylirel could feel herself turning beet red. The Captain waved a hand at them, “Besides, the jungle is completely impassible. Now then, go and get ready. We leave in a quarter hour before the sun rises.”

The rangers all turned, heading into the camp and dousing the fire as they prepared themselves. Bows were strung, arrows were readied, and generally the preparations went on without any conversation. Tylirel preferred the silence, working swiftly to tighten straps on her armor, preparing her sheaths for quick release of her daggers, and ensuring her bootlaces were tight. After she'd finished, she walked over to where the fire had been doused, kneeling down before it. She gently scooped the ash into her hands, coating her fingers before bringing them up to her face. She began to rub the ash in everywhere, blackening her pink skin.

“What are you DOING?” a voice interrupted. Tylirel paused, looking up to see another elf standing over her. She smiled, her white teeth glinting in the blackness of her soot-covered face, “I'm getting ready! You want some?”

The elf crinkled her nose, shaking her head, “Um no? That's going to stain your skin for days. And....fel are you putting that in your HAIR too?”

And indeed Tylirel was, her hands running through her red locks and coating everything with a fine black ash. Although she could not completely dull the bright red color, she at least made the strands blend in with the local floral colors. She looked at the other elf and shrugged, “Sure, why not? Better that than being seen don't you think?”

The other elf sneered and turned, stalking away to gather up her weapons. It was clear that she did NOT think it was a good idea. Tylirel shrugged again, smearing more soot on her face and smiling, “I think it's fun...”

Minutes later they were moving in groups of three, the Captain with the lead squad as they headed into the jungle.

Fifteen minutes later Tylirel was gone, having disappeared unnoticed sometime during the trek.

Twenty-five minutes later disaster struck as the Mogu sprang their ambush.

*****************************************

For Ranger Lilliela Daywhisper the world had contracted into a very narrow range of senses that went from minor dull aches to mind-numbing agony. As one of the agonizing waves passed over her, she gasped and grit her teeth. She shook her head, trying to get through it as best as she could, her fingers digging into the soil beneath her.

She was on her hands and knees, trapped on a magical rune that had been cast on the ground. Around her, she could see the others in a similar position, their bodies contorting as the waves of agony rolled over them. The runes were of Mogu design, intended to inflict pain endlessly for hours or even days, breaking down the will of the trapped victims so that they would make more pliable slaves. After having been trapped in the rune for only an hour Lilliela could understand how such a tactic would work. Within a day's time they would all be begging to be free of the agony, eager to do anything the Mogu commanded if only for a few moments of peace.

She grit her teeth again as another wave of agony traveled through her body, the red haze of the magic flaring for a moment. The attack had been an utter disaster, the entire thing orchestrated by the Mogu at the most basic level. Funneled into the narrow ravines that rose into the ruins, the Sin'dorei had been struck from all sides by both Mogu and a number of magical stone constructs. It turned out that their intelligence on the camp's numbers had been only 'somewhat' accurate; there had indeed been ten Mogu as the map had indicated, but one of them was a powerful Spiritbinder of some sort and had unleashed his creations on them. Several rangers, including the Captain, had perished in the fighting, leaving the rest to be beaten into submission and placed on the runes.

Lilliela sighed in despair, looking around at the other captives. Six of them were left now of the original ten. Other runes held additional prisoners the Mogu had captured and were preparing for hard labor. There was little any of them could do now but endure and hope that somehow they would be rescued in time. Given that the Spiritbinder appeared to be preparing a small space in the middle of the ruins for a spell, she suspected they had limited time before they were dragged off through a portal to some hellish fate somewhere.

She sighed again, looking away from the depressing sight of her imprisoned companions, her eyes drifting to the impenetrable wall of jungle foliage around the ruins. As her gaze drifted over the dense, lush plant life, her wandering gaze abruptly came to a halt.

Two fel green eyes stared out at her from amongst the branches, seemingly floating in the sea of greenery.

Lilliela shook her head, blinking to clear her sight. When she did so, the eyes were gone and she sighed again, thinking it a figment of her imagination. She nearly shrieked aloud when a voice spoke up almost directly next to her, “Hi! Are you alright? That looks like some pretty nasty spell there...”

Her head whirled around to find Tylirel Summerglade crouched down just outside of the rune holding her in place, the soot-covered ranger studying the magic curiously. With wide eyes, Lilliela quickly whispered, “You have to get out of here! Go back and warn the rest of the expeditionary force. Tell them we're trapped here and we need help! Hurry before they transport us!”

Tylirel frowned, biting her lip. She reached out towards the other elf, sticking her hand on the ward before Lilliela could stop her. With a gasp the red-headed ranger jerked her hand back, shaking her head and sucking on her fingertips as if they'd been burned, “Ow! That really hurts! I've got to get you all out of this. I bet the one casting the spells over in the center of camp is responsible. Don't worry, I'll have you free in a moment!”

Lilliela felt panic setting in and she hissed at the other ranger, “No you idiot! You need to escape and get help! There's ten of them and one of them can command stone creatures! Flee and get help!”

Tylirel smiled at the other ranger and shook her head, “No, I can't leave you like this. Don't worry, I've got this. I promise! Cross my heart!”

Lilliela would have screamed if she didn't know it would attract the Mogu over. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath and prepared to deliver the tongue-lashing of a lifetime. When she opened her eyes, Tylirel was gone.

“We're doomed...” came the despairing ranger's whisper. She hung her head before turning to look back towards the camp. Mogu patrolled the area relentlessly, the Spellbinder in the center of the camp preparing his magic. Even as Lilliela watched, one of the Mogu on the edge of the camp slumped forward, gently easing towards the ground as if he were sleeping. One of her eyebrows shot up as she pondered why this would be the case, and one of the other Mogu wandered towards his companion, uttering something she couldn't hear.

She didn't need to hear what happened next. As the Mogu shook his companion and got no response, he flipped the 'sleeping' sentry over only to discover his throat had been completely carved out. Instantly he roared an alarm, alerting the other Mogu in the camp. They rushed to draw their weapons, scanning the surrounding jungle for whatever enemy had killed their companion. In the center of the camp, the Spellbinder rose, glaring at the commotion.

It was then that a strange smoke began to drift from the edge of the jungle.

The Spellbinder growled and pointed, sending two of the Mogu towards the disturbance. They approached cautiously, weapons drawn as they eased into the smoke. For a moment the camp was utterly silent except for the gasping of tormented prisoners. The silence was abruptly shattered by the howls of Mogu emanating from the smoke cloud. The howls and screaming were punctuated by the sound of metal on metal and then abruptly silence fell over the camp again. Lilliela noted that not once had she heard the sound of a Sin'dorei crying out in pain during whatever struggle had occurred.

In the center of the camp the Spiritbinder began to chant, magic flowing from his clawed hands. Around the ruins stone statues began to stir, the ancient guardians coming to life and bounding towards their master. These were the same creatures that had turned the tide on the rangers to begin with, and Lilliela shuddered as she watched a dozen of them make their way into the edge of the jungle, followed by several more Mogu.

The Spiritbinder laughed, walking towards the captured slaves, his tone mocking as his voice bellowed out amongst them, “Surrender any hope of rescue! None can stand against my creations, and to believe that you will be allowed freedom is folly! You serve us now! You are honored to be amongst the first wave of slaves to help rebuild our glorious empire! Upon your bones will rest the foundations of our great nation, as worthless as you might be!”

As he spoke, he walked past each of the trapped prisoners, applying magic and making them cry out in agony, laughing at their torment. He continued to lambast them, even as Mogu stalked the jungle around the camp, looking for the intruder. Finally he stood over Lilliela, his form towering over her kneeling body.

“You will submit to us supplicant! There is nothing more to your life than servitude! You will tell me that you are unworthy to serve, but that you wish to submit!” Even as he spoke, she looked up at him to see magic beginning to form on his claws. Her eyes widened, not at the pain he was about to inflict, but by what else she saw in that brief moment.

In the branches of a tree that loomed over the camp, the two fel eyes hovered in the shadows, far above him.

It happened so fast that Lilliela would later have a hard time recalling it. In a blink of an eye Tylirel jumped from her perch, her body arched and two daggers held high over her head, her hair trailing out behind her like a dirty comet. The dull black metal of her weapons gave not even a hint of a reflection as she fell silently, hurtling towards the Mogu below her. He had no chance to realize his fate, no chance to turn and fight her. One moment he was gloating over his captive, and the next moment two daggers were buried to their hilt in his skull, one hitting so hard that the blade snapped off in his cranium.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. The Spiritbinder made not a sound as he crumpled to his knees and then fell on his face. Dead before he could even move, his magic began to fade almost instantly, bringing the prisoners some measure of relief as the runes holding them began to die. In the jungle beyond the camp, howls arose as the stone creatures he'd summoned also faltered before becoming statues once more.

Tylirel landed lightly on her feet beside her slain foe, a mischievous smile on her face as she whipped out another dagger. Mogu howled and charged towards her, and she began to move as if dancing with the shadows of the ruins. In the blink of an eye she leaped, landing in front of the first foe and slashing with her daggers. He desperately tried to parry, only to find her fine blades carving a gouge in his face. She spun around him, planting a dagger in his back even as she grabbed a strap of his armor and twirled his dead weight into the next attacker.

The next Mogu in line struck out, hitting the dead body of his ally rather than Tylirel, the weapon tearing from his hands and leaving him disarmed as she jumped up and jammed one of her blades in his neck, sending his lifeless body tumbling away.

Lilliela could feel the runes weakening beneath her, and she struggled to tear her hands from the ground as she watched the lithe little elf in the center of the camp continue her assault. Tylirel spun, a dagger flying from her hand and burying itself in a Mogu's eye, her feet already moving as she dodged the blow of yet another attacker. In a smooth motion she pulled a dagger from a sheath, rearming herself and slashing at the creature's arm, leaving a terrible gouge in it before spinning clear of his weapon.

And then it was over, the runes holding the slaves in place finally dissipating completely. Lilliela surged to her feet even as the others did the same around her, each of them turning to find a weapon or advancing on the remaining Mogu barehanded. The few remaining slavers were forced to turn and flee as their would-be victims hunted them down one by one, leaving none alive.

In the center of the ruined camp Tylirel paused, beginning to pull her daggers from dead Mogu. She inspected each blade, making sure it was still combat worthy before returning it to its sheath. The surviving rangers gathered around her, smiling at her and nodding their thanks. They paused as she bent over one of the fallen foes, her hands reaching out to rip a decorative necklace from the Spiritbinder's corpse.

Tylirel looked up as she pocketed the item, nodding to the other elves, “Always take something to remember the battle. It can teach you a lot! Are we done here now? What are we going to do next?”

The rangers looked at each other and shrugged; if the dirty, soot-covered Tylirel was happy it was just as well, she'd saved them after all. How she had the energy to contemplate doing anything else was beyond them though. Several of them shook their heads as they turned to walk away, gathering up their supplies and the captured Horde prisoners as they went.

Tylirel looked around the camp and nodded; she had done good work here, and soon it would return to its more natural state. Something to look forward to if she ever visited again. She looked back at her departing companions and began to hurry after them, shouting, “Guys! Wait for me!”

It would be a long trip back to camp, and an even more difficult time filing a report for the entire mission.

Welcome Home

As always, it was a glorious day in Quel'Thalas. The sun shone down upon the golden leaves of the forest of Eversong, animals went about their business in the wilderness, and a soft spring breeze carried the eternally warmed air through the open gates of Silvermoon. The citizens of Quel'Thalas were taking advantage of the beautiful day, many already out and about on their business, happy to be enjoying their lives in the slowly recovering kingdom.

Unfortunately, if you were the Blood Knight Captain Ferialius Sunmight, you were not one of those people. Encased in his full suit of plate armor and already sweating from the morning heat, he leaned over a portable folding table where he sat in an equally portable camp chair. Situated near the Sheppard's Gate, he had been assigned the rather dubious honor of overseeing gate duty for the day. With events unfolding in the world outside of Quel'Thalas, it was necessary at times to enhance security near the gates and this just happened to be one of those times.

He had just completed the process of filling out yet more of the entry papers that the Knights under him had collected from visitors when a shadow fell over his desk. He completed his signature at the bottom of the form he'd been working on with a flourish and looked up just as a friendly voice spoke.

“Hi!” a female Sin'dorei said happily. He looked up, a brow rising as the happy tone in the elf's voice contrasted sharply with the drudgery of going through customs inspection. The sight that met his eyes was not typical of the elves passing through the gates and into the city proper. A slender, athletic looking Sin'dorei with fire red hair tied back in a ponytail smiled down at him from the other side of the desk. Dressed in tight fitting studded leather pants, slender calf-high boots, and a leather halter top, the elf appeared to have simply stepped out of some primitive part of the forest.

Captain Sunmight cleared his throat, plastering a serious expression on his face, “Can I help you miss?”

The red haired elf nodded, the smile on her face beautiful and genuine, “Yep! Some of the Knights over by the gates said I needed to have paperwork or something to gain entry. They told me to come talk to you. I'm Tylirel by the way! Tylirel Summerglade.”

“Of course they did...” the Captain muttered to himself. He waved at an empty chair across from him, nodding at the elf. “Very well, take a seat Dame Summerglade and we'll process you. You have no identification papers at all?”

“Well, actually I do have this sir,” Tylirel said, immediately standing back up and reaching into a belt pouch. As she hunted for some object, the Captain noted that she had a vast array of sheathed knives on her belt, along with what looked like a small hand ax and a few collapsible metal objects that were likely traps used in hunting. After a moment the redhead pulled out what appeared to be a small, battered metal emblem, holding it up before the Captain. It appeared to be the rank insignia of a Quel'Thalas ranger. A very old and battered one at that.

“A ranger eh?” the Captain said, his tone less than pleased. “I'm surprised the Farstriders haven't sorted out your paperwork before now. Would have saved us both the trouble.” The last comment was made as he began to shuffle through the pages of a log book he kept on the desk, his eyes scanning the neat script presented in orderly columns, all the while murmuring her last name 'Summerglade'. After a moment, he paused, his finger tracing over the page and his eyebrows shooting up. He looked up, examining the elf more closely.

“It's says you are MIA, presumed dead Dame Summerglade,” he said slowly. “Where exactly have you been?”

Tylirel blinked, tilting her head to one side, “MIA? I'm right here though.” She actually brought a hand up and waved at him. “As for what I've been doing...I've been doing my job sir. In the Ghostlands mostly. That is where I was assigned and where I've lived for many years.”

The Blood Knight Captain scowled, staring hard at her, “And why have you decided to come back now? After all these years, why do you come back at a time when there have been conflicts with the Quel'dorei and war is afoot?”

The elf's face took on an almost comical look of confusion for a moment, and she shook her head, “Sir, I'm sure I have no clue about any of that. I stayed in the Ghostlands because I was needed there. Now there is less work to do there, and I feel that I can totally make a difference somewhere else. There are a number of Houses hiring scouts I've been told, so here I am! Also I need supplies before I can travel.”

“What kind of supplies?” the Captain asked, still suspicious. It was not often that a relic came from out of the woods and presented herself, and he was not overly fond of the Farstriders. The only positive was that there was the unmistakeable tint of green to the elf's eyes to show she was a true Sin'dorei.

Tylirel smiled, pointing to her belt, “I need buckles, a few new blades, and other metal bits. There are no forges in the forests, and I've no skill with metalworking.” And so it was true; the elf's belt was knotted at the middle, the buckle having cracked from long use.

“Very well Dame Summerglade,” the Captain replied. “Before I can give you proper papers though we have to ensure that you are not a spy in disguise or here for nefarious purposes. We will need to examine you with magic. I will need you to surrender your weapons on the table next to me. If you agree, please disarm so we can get this over with.”

“Oh sure!” Tylirel said happily. She stepped over to the table next to him, reaching to her belt. One by one she began to deposit daggers on the table top, three from her left hip and one from a sheath on her shoulder pauldron. From her right hip she took her hand ax and placed it on the table. She reached down to her right thigh and pulled a dagger from a hidden sheath there. She bent over and pulled another dagger from her left boot top, adding it to the pile. She stood back up, reaching up and removing her shoulder armor, flipping each piece over and removing three small throwing knives concealed in each pauldron and placing them on the table.

Around her, the Captain and several other Blood Knights watched her, their eyes beginning to widen with each *clink* as daggers were added to the pile. As the shear volume of weapons began to increase, several of them shifted and looked at one another, shaking their heads. When Tylirel's hands came up and began to unlace the front of her halter top the Captain raised his hand and shook his head, “Er, that'll be sufficient Dame Summerglade. Do you um, really need all of that...?”

Tylirel smiled at him and nodded, the happy naive tone of her voice contrasting with the deadly pile of weapons that would likely have outfitted an entire squad of rangers, “Oh you really never do know when you'll need a blade. Sometimes things just don't work out the way you expect, you know?”

Several of the Knights began to chuckle and murmur to one another, and the Captain shook his head, “No, I don't know but it doesn't matter.” He gestured and a Sin'dorei in a flowing red robe stepped forward. “This priest is going to verify that you have no harmful enchantments on you, and also verify your Sin'dorei heritage. In the past Quel'dorei have attempted to disguise themselves by changing their eye color magically. You understand the necessity of this I hope? Also, don't move during the process; we will be watching you and I have three Knights here who will take you into custody if you resist.”

“Actually you have three Knights here, two concealed behind a hidden door three paces to my right, and two rangers with bows on the balcony twenty paces down the road,” Tylirel said happily. The Captain's eyes widened and he looked at his subordinates, who shrugged. There was no way she could have seen any of that, she hadn't even LOOKED!

“So I just stand here like this?” Tylirel asked. She raised her arms up in the air over her head.

The Captain sighed and shook his head, “You don't have to...you know what, that's fine. Just stay still please.”

Tylirel nodded in direct contradiction of the order she'd just been given, smiling and holding still. The priest approached her, chanting the words to a spell and waving his hands in the air over her. After a few minutes he nodded, lowering his hands and looking to the Captain, “She's clean sir. No banned magic on her. She's got some now-dead scourge magic pieces on her wrist and around her neck though.”

The Captain nodded, waving a hand to dismiss the priest as he stepped towards Tylirel, “Let's see your wrist, Dame Summerglade.”

Tylirel lowered her arms, presenting one slender wrist to the captain. He noted a number of scars on her arm; minor injuries but in enough number to show she'd had some adventures in the past. Around her wrist hung a bracelet made of defaced Scourgestones, emblems of Quel'Thalas carved into each one. He handled the bracelet gently, turning it over around her wrist. “What is this exactly?”

“My trophies sir!” Tylirel said, sounding proud. “I always take a trophy when I finish a good hunt. It reminds you of what you've done and any lessons that the hunt has taught you. Living alone in the wilderness, it is easy to lose track of yourself in the greater flow of nature. This helps remind me.”

The Captain nodded, still studying the bracelet with wide eyes, turning each stone over in his hands. Based on the number that made up the bracelet, and a glimpse of a similar necklace hanging near her cleavage, it was clear that the ranger had slaughtered Scourge for many years. He finally broke his gaze from the bracelet, letting the elf's wrist free.

“Very well Dame Summerglade, you are welcome to enter the city. Please collect your things while I prepare your documents,” the Captain said. She was no threat, and with the trophies she carried she would likely prove useful to some House or another. Provided she could learn to blend in with the city and lose the wildness he sensed about her. Whether or not she would do so would decide whether or not he ended up seeing her in fetters at some point in the future for breaking the law.

As he sat down to begin the process of completing her identification papers, Tylirel turned towards her pile of weapons and began rearming herself. By random chance, the fifteen minutes it took him to complete the paperwork was about the amount of time it took the strange ranger to put all of her weapons away.

After she took the papers from him, she tilted her head again, a question in her eyes, “Can I bring my mount into the city? He's really thirsty and hungry and I'd like to find a place I can get some feed for him.”

“Of course,” the Captain replied, already looking towards the next person waiting in line at the gate.

Tylirel smiled and brought a hand to her lips, a shrill whistle escaping her. From the rear of the gates several shouts arose as a large black war wolf padded in through the gates. The beast was enormous, its black fur ragged looking and a feral look to its head. Its tongue lolled out, spattering the red paving stones with saliva as it panted, large teeth glinting. Several of the Knights drew swords and there were frightened murmurs from amongst those waiting in line.

Tylirel whistled again and the beast padded over to her, licking her arm happily, its tail wagging. On its back was a saddle with a simple bedroll tied to it. The elf leaned down, rubbing behind the wolf's ears, the creature nearly knocking her down as it happily pressed its nose against her. After finishing the happy reunion, Tylirel turned and walked deeper into the city, the menacing creature padding after her contentedly, angry murmurs coming from the people waiting at the checkpoint.

Watching her go, the Captain shook his head and sighed, murmuring to himself, “That one is going to be trouble. I just know it...”

A Dangerous Pair

The double doors to the audience chamber opened, the sound of the gold-painted wooden barriers echoing through the vaulted chamber beyond. At the heart of the Dawnsea estate on Dawnsea Isle, the audience chamber was meant to impress and performed this function well, even upon those who had seen it before. Golden columns spiraled down from the ceiling in neat rows on either side of the chamber, twelve in all, with red and golden tapestries hanging between them. A red carpet lead from the entrance doors down the length of the expansive room, leading up a tier of steps to the throne at the far end. Above the throne a giant golden shield hung, its face bearing the emblem of a sun rising above three waves.

While the chamber itself was impressive, the Sin'dorei that entered it took little time to admire the view, for upon the throne sat two figures that took far more of his attention. He studied them as he approached, his leather boots echoing in the recesses of the chamber. Although there were no guards present, he couldn't help but feel that invisible eyes studied his every move as he walked.

The throne was a massive, cushioned chair with a high golden back and thick golden arms. Although it was designed for a single person to sit upon it, the sheer size of it allowed for more than enough room for multiple people to rest upon it. Generally this would not be the case, as what noble would wish to share their audience chair with another person? The two sitting upon it were an exception to such a rule however, and it didn't surprise the approaching Sin'dorei in the slightest that they were both there.

Seated in the center of the chair, a red-haired elf watched him approaching, her eyes almost blazing fel-green and her expression carefully guarded. Dressed in a form fitting red cloth corset with golden embroidery and equally tight black silken pants, she toyed idly with the long braid in her hair, her red manicure vying for attention over several exquisite golden rings she wore. She sat with her legs crossed, one expensive, high heeled boot bouncing idly as she waited for him to reach the throne.

Across her lap the second elf was draped. Wearing a dark black dress with silver embroidery, she leaned idly against the arm of the chair, her legs hanging over the other edge and her bare feet crossed at the ankles. She picked at an invisible nothing on her dress, her dark black hair draped and framing her face, partially obscuring view of her expression. The approaching Sin'dorei didn't need to see her fully to understand that the face hidden behind the wall of hair was identical to the one that studied him; the two elves were twins, identical in all but the color of their hair. The one sitting upright was perhaps a shade less pale, but it would be difficult to tell them apart at a glance.

As he drew near, the red-headed elf spoke, her voice almost a soft purr, "You are late. Report."

The voice sent shivers up his spine, and he knew that Calexa Dawnsea would not be pleased with what he had to tell her. Hastily he dropped to one knee, his head bowed and his eyes locked on the floor before the throne, "My lady, the attempt failed. Alleriel Sunhaven lives."

The words were met with a brooding silence. Daring to peek up, the elf saw Calexa frowning, her fingers twirling the end of her braid over and over. She sighed lightly, and immediately the other elf, her sister Darva Dawnsea, reached out to place a reassuring hand on her arm. Calexa smiled slightly, patting her sister's hand and then glaring at the kneeling elf, "I am displeased. You were to eliminate the Sunhaven Scion such that we could negotiate with them on more even grounds. Pray that you did not leave evidence that would lead Lady Sunhaven back to this House, for if you displayed that level of incompetence, your service will...no longer be required."

The threat was not even veiled, the tone of Calexa's voice menacing. The room itself seemed to shrink around the kneeling elf, and he found himself breaking into a cold sweat, imagining clawed hands reaching out to touch him. Why he felt this way and what was causing the effect was not immediately obvious, but it got the point across, "N-no my Lady! The orcs I paid had no emblems of our House upon them. I never once mentioned our intentions. Only one of them lived anyway and he will be able to say nothing, as he saw not even a trace of my face."

On the throne, Calexa paused, considering his response. In her lap, Darva stirred, the paler Dawnsea twin leaning forward and clinging to her sister's arm. She looked at the kneeling elf directly for just a moment, quickly hiding her face again and leaning forward to whisper into Calexa's ear. Although his superior Sin'dorei hearing easily allowed him to catch what passed between the two elves on the throne, the words were in a language he could not understand, the sounds guttural and painful to the ears. He shook his head, trying to clear the sound from his mind.

When the whispering stopped, he looked up to see Darva place a kiss upon her sister's cheek with ruby red lips before the dark haired elf turned to stare at him. Calexa leaned against her sister, their cheeks pressed together and her own gaze boring into him. It was beyond unsettling having the two identical elves fixated on him and he quickly looked away.

"We believe this may play to our advantage," Calexa said softly. "House Sunhaven will question who sent the assailants. They will begin to become wary even of those who would be their allies. This may allow us to find others in House Felo'melorn who would be amiable to our goals. You will go now, and await our instructions."

Relieved, the elf bowed low, his voice a muted whisper, "Yes my Lady."

He quickly rose, turning and hurrying towards the exit, distinctly aware of the two pairs of eyes boring into his back. Just as his hand touched the double door to push it open, Calexa's voice drifted to him softly from her place on the throne.

"Your failure will not be forgotten or forgiven. We will be watching you closely."

The assassin grew deathly pale, shivering as he turned and pushed the door open, hurrying out into the relative safety of the corridors beyond. Behind him, two pairs of fel-green eyes stared at him until he was out of sight before turning towards each other. Two identical smiles grew across two Sin'dorei faces as the sisters nodded at one another.

The plan had changed, but it would unfold in their favor either way. Someone was going to pay for what had been done to them.

No, everyone was.

A Costly Decision

A floorboard creaked. The sound was a nothing, a whisper in the reading room and almost lost amongst the crackle and popping of the flames in the hearth. Circular in shape, the chamber boasted two floors of carefully organized bookshelves with scrolls and documents weighing down each shelf. The center of the room was vaulted, with a railed balcony on the second floor overlooking the center of the room where a number of chairs and divans were arranged to allow those reading the works of the library the ability to do so before the warmth of the fire.

Standing near the stone hearth, Alleriel Sunhaven's long ears twitched once as the sound came to her. Barefoot and wearing loose-fitting robes after her evening martial arts practice and bath, she had just selected a tome to read to put her mind at ease before she slept. She paused, the book half-opened in her hands as her eyes slipped closed. Something around her, something within the room felt wrong and out of place all of a sudden, the sound having alerted her in some subconscious way. She delved deep within herself, finding her center and hunting for the source of imbalance in her Chi.

The moment came and passed, and with it a sense of impending fate. As if the entire thing had been orchestrated, Alleriel whirled, the book folding closed in her hands and coming up before her, her sea-green eyes opening as her Chi came into balance within her once more. Through the air a throwing knife tumbled end over end, the deadly weapon glinting in the firelight as it crossed the distance to what would have been her back in an instant. The razor sharp point penetrated the book's cover, sticking in the pages and quivering there.

Alleriel's mind raced, her body already in motion as the assassin on the upper balcony jumped down, drawing a blade and dagger and advancing on her. As she moved, a second projectile eclipsed the spot she'd been standing as a second attacker failed to strike his mark. In her quick assessment of the situation, Alleriel instantly recognized that she was not being attacked by Sin'dorei, but by orcs dressed in black leather armor with black cloth masks covering half their faces.

Out of time to consider the situation further, the first of the orcs reached her, his blade stabbing out at her with a lightning fast jab. Utterly focused now, Alleriel's hand came up at precisely the right moment to slap the flat of the blade, driving the weapon wide even as she whirled to avoid the slash of the dagger. Within the arc of the orc's arm, her hand lashed out again, striking his underarm as her leg came up to strike his groin. The larger assailant tumbled onto his back, his sword flying from his hands as Alleriel continued to move.

Behind her the second assassin slashed at her, narrowly missing the lithe elf as she darted towards a divan, her bare feet easily allowing her to jump onto the high back of the furniture before she neatly dove down and rolled across the floor. Feathers flew into the air as the second orc's blade bit into the furniture, the second strike missing Alleriel by mere inches.

As the blonde elf ended her roll, a third orc jumped down from the balcony above, slashing downward with two of his blades. Still in a half-crouch, Alleriel swept one of her legs out instead of rising, the two swords whisking over her head as her assault knocked the legs out from under the orc. He fell with a grunt, and Alleriel gave him a quick blow to the neck as she rose and darted forward, knowing it would do nothing more than stun him for a moment. Behind her the assassin that had been chasing her struck again, his strike held up by the fact that his companion on the floor was attempting to rise, gasping for air.

Having bought herself a moment's reprieve, Alleriel rolled again, coming up near a bookshelf. She snatched several tomes from the collection, whirling and hurling them as projectiles as the two orcs both advanced on her. They slashed at the books with their swords, one taking the bound edge of a thesaurus to the face. Pages fluttered around them and they began to look enraged as they stalked her. Realizing she would have to face them both, Alleriel dropped into a fighting stance, taking a deep breath and preparing herself for the battle to come.

Unfortunately, the three orc assailants were not the only attackers. Even as she prepared herself, there was a *click* and a crossbow bolt flew across the open space of the room. Having only a moment's notice, Alleriel was not able to deflect the bolt with a belated swing of her open palm, and the bolt passed through the flowing sleeve of her robes, narrowly missing her arm directly and leaving a bloody welt on her flesh as it exited the other side.

Her eyes darted to the balcony above where a dark-haired Sin'dorei held a crossbow in his hands, sighting down the length. The weapon was of special design, shooting small projectiles but having a loading mechanism to allow it to fire up to five of the missiles before needing to be reloaded. Alleriel's face took on a look of surprise and she darted to one side, somersaulting away as another bolt passed through the space she'd been standing. She fell to her knees, sliding in her robes across the wooden floor and slowing to a stop behind one of the feather-stuffed reading chairs. Even as she stopped, a bolt struck the chair and feathers exploded from it.

With the two orcs beginning to pursue her around the edge of the furniture, the sniper on the balcony above, and the third orc stirring where he lay on the floor in the middle of the room, Alleriel came to the understanding that her fate might be upon her. She took in another deep breath, steadying herself and bringing her Chi in alignment within her. She jumped up, quickly dodging away from the orcs pursuing her, her hand extended towards the balcony above.

She could feel the space between her and the assassin. Could feel his finger as it caressed the trigger. She could see the motes of dust that danced in the air between them, sense the deadly potential that hung within that impossibly small space. Into that void she thrust her Chi, her entire focus on that moment.

Green crackling lightning burst from her open palm, crossing the distance between her and the assassin before he could squeeze the trigger. It slammed into the balcony railing before arcing up and over, and the Sin'dorei cried out and hurled himself backward. His weapon fired, the bolt traveling towards Alleriel but thrown off course now, missing her by a few feet and clattering against the stones of the hearth behind her.

Deep within the interior of Sunhaven Estate, shouts arose as the House Guards heard the thunderous retort of the lightning within the enclosed space of the reading room. Footsteps began to pound down nearby hallways as the defenses of the House began to gather to repel whatever attack was occurring. Within the room, the Sin'dorei on the balcony growled through the mask that covered his face, lightly leaping over the railing and turning towards the door.

Behind him, Alleriel skidded to a halt, twirling on her bare feet and bringing a leg up before leaping to the side. Her foot connected with the head of one of the orcs, the blow to the temple knocking him unconscious and causing him to stumble sideways into his companion as he slid towards the floor. The second orc's attack was thrown off as his companion jostled him, and Alleriel was able to slap his clumsy assault to the side. She stepped towards him, lightning fast strikes hitting him in the groin, the stomach, and throat, and the nose before she jumped back, allowing her two dazed opponents to collapse in a heap.

In the doorway, the Sin'dorei who had been on the balcony paused, his gaze reaching across the room to lock with Alleriel's, irritation at the failure of his assassins clearly written there. He held up a small glass orb, dashing it on the ground and creating a wall of smoke in the doorway, obscuring all sight through the entrance.

Again Alleriel sensed that something was amiss, and she fell to the floor as the smoke cloud expanded. No sooner had she done so than a barrage of throwing stars exited the smoke, hurtling towards where she'd been standing. Several strands of her hair were cut free by near misses, drifting onto the stones around her as the spent projectiles collided with the hearth behind her and the orcs that were attempting to get to their feet.

In the silence that followed, only the sound of Sunhaven guards rushing towards her location could be heard. Of the leader of the assassins, there was not even a whisper to hint he had been within the rapidly clearing smoke cloud. Alleriel jumped to her feet, rushing to the doorway and seeing a window ajar in the corridor beyond. She looked out into the night to see the moon shining down on Sunhaven Estate's grounds. Her keen sight took in the crumpled forms of several of her rangers that had likely been cut down while they patrolled the grounds to allow the assassins access to the structure.

In the corridors behind her, House guards rushed towards her, their voices a cacophony of shouts and cries of dismay. Several hurried into the room behind Alleriel, checking on the two dead orcs and taking the third semi-conscious orc into custody.

Alleriel ignored them all, her gaze locked on the still forms laying in the fields beyond. At the dead Sin'dorei that had fallen defending their home. At those who had died because of her decisions, her leadership. There was a price to pay for every choice one made, for every path one walked. The dead in the fields beyond were the price she paid now for choosing to withdraw from the alliance of four Houses that she had been a part of.

Had they convinced others that she had betrayed the Horde? Would more orcs come, thinking she was disloyal to the Warchief when all she had wanted was to protect the Sin'dorei in her care? Or perhaps one of the other Houses simply found her position inconvenient, and sought to eliminate her so that her replacement would be more compliant. Which House was it? Sunfire, Dawnsea, or Felo'melorn? Who owned the blade of the dark-haired Sin'dorei?

The questions circled endlessly in her mind as her gaze remained locked on the dead. Doubt gnawed at her, a feeling that would hound her relentlessly and was a part and parcel of leading others. Though it would make meditation difficult and keep her awake for many nights to come, she could not be deterred. Too much depended on her keeping House Sunhaven's Sin'dorei safely within Quel'Thalas.

She whispered into the night, her voice steady but having a hint of anger to it that was uncommon for her, “Strike well my foes, strike many times in the hopes that you will stop me. When the time comes that I strike, there will be but one blow and you will fall. No more Sin'dorei will die for this. No more of our kin will be slain at our own hands. This I swear.”

With that she turned, striding away from the window and letting her guards do their jobs. She desperately needed the serenity of meditation in that moment.

Taking Action- A Blood Elf Parable

*Written on a scroll in meticulous, elegant script, the story has a small wax seal embedded with the emblem of a sun cradled between two trees and is signed by Seneschal Leneath Dawnrise of House Sunhaven.*

It came to pass that my lady Alleriel Sunhaven, Scion of our House and protector of the Sin'dorei under her care, was troubled. In recent days she had made the decision to withdraw the soldiers of House Sunhaven from Pandaria, fearful of the loss of precious elven lives in that distant land for a cause that had become clouded. Not knowing if she had made the correct decision, she spent a day and night meditating on the issue before emerging from the hall that contained House Sunhaven's reflecting pools, at which point she said that she wished to journey to the Tian Monastery to seek guidance.

It was decided that I would journey beside her to discuss the matter. All of those in our care were safely in Quel'Thalas now, and the trip would be swift one would hope. With this in mind, we packed only minimal supplies in the saddles of our hawkstriders and set out for Silvermoon with some haste. With no magi of our own to open arcane portals, we sought one out within the capital to speed us along our way. This first leg of our journey was taken in silence, each of us reflecting on current events.

Within the city it was an easy matter to find a Magistrix that would open such a portal for us. Not only did the helpful Sin'dorei indicate that she would assist us, she stated that she could open a portal directly to the monastery, which would save us much time. Lady Sunhaven gratefully agreed, and eagerly stepped through the portal intent on finding the guidance she sought. I followed her, and at the last moment before I entered the portal I looked back to the Magistrix. In that moment, I noted with some curiosity that her eyes glowed not with the green of the Sin'dorei, or even the blue of the Quel'dorei we once were, but bright white. She winked somewhat playfully at me, and then the portal took me and I saw her no more.

After a moment of disorientation my eyes opened to see not the Tian Monastery as expected, but instead a towering mountain rising into the distance with the structure we sought only a distant point barely seen at the top. My mouth must surely have hung agape at this moment, for Alleriel turned, a whimsical smile on her face as she nodded towards the mountain and said, “It seems we are to be tested before we can proceed. Let us show ourselves to be worthy.”

It amused me to hear her speak of what would be an arduous trip up the sheer, winding path to the monastery as a simple test, but I nodded and took up my reins, following in her path. It was likely we would need to proceed on foot for at least part of the journey to rest our mounts given our lack of preparation for such a venture. Nevertheless, my Lady steadfastly moved forward, an example for me to follow.

It was perhaps an hour into our trip up the mountainside when we rounded a corner and brought our mounts to a halt, looking at one another and then taking in the scene. Ahead a small portion of the sheer cliffs had broken free, rubble falling on the path and partially blocking it. Before the rubble sat a number of Pandaren pilgrims, a cart pulled to the side of the path and a low murmur coming from them. They glanced up at us, shaking their heads.

“You cannot go any further, it is no use,” said one. The others nodded in agreement behind him as he gestured at the rubble. “We are going to turn back after we have rested. There is no way through that.”

Alleriel merely studied the scene, quietly taking in the situation before shaking her head and dismounting. I watched with some interest as she approached the pile of rubble and began to study it. She smiled, taking the simple wooden staff she carried from her back and resting the end against one of the boulders. With a heave, she used the staff as leverage, tumbling one of the rocks over the cliff edge beside us, the sound of it cracking in the ravine below echoing back up to us.

“You will never move forward if you give up so easily,” my Lady said softly. “It is in the trying, in the perseverance that you gain the strength to remove obstacles from your path. Come, together we can surely clear enough room to pass, and tell the others in the Monastery above of this trouble.”

And so the Pandaren looked at one another and then nodded, rising and moving towards Alleriel. Together they heaved rock after rock over the edge, the work difficult but possible with proper teamwork. After less than an hour it became clear that my Lady's words were true and the path opened before us once more. The Pandaren cheerfully gathered up their things, following us as we continued on our way.

Another hour passed, this time spent in cheerful company as we ascended the mountain path, the Monastery closer above us now, although still some distance away. The path ahead had begun to twist and turn as it rose with the terrain, making it impossible to see more than forty or fifty yards ahead with the winding bends in it. As we rounded one such bend, we were brought up short by a Hozen that jumped onto the trail.

“Wickets go 'way! Go 'way!” the creature bellowed. It was a sight to behold, his body much larger than many of his kind, a giant spear grasped in one hand. As he yelled, he jumped up and down, his empty fist pounding on the ground with a loud thumping noise and setting the Pandaren with us to quailing and quaking with fear.

Several of the Pandaren with us had been carrying spears or staves as they traveled, and they grimly brandished these weapons, advancing on the yelling creature, intent on doing battle with it before it could harm the unarmed and innocent amongst the pilgrims. I winced, realizing that there would be bloodshed on the narrow trail. I must admit my nerves made me shake and the bile in the back of my throat rose to think I would have to witness such slaughter.

Before the first of the Pandaren could reach the Hozen, he was brought up short with a light touch on his shoulder. My Lady Alleriel had dismounted, quickly moving towards the front of the group. She placed herself between Hozen and Pandaren, bringing a hand up to halt them.

“Wait,” she said. “You act with haste and do not take a moment to let wisdom guide your actions. Wait and listen and perhaps you will see that all is not as it appears.”

And so it was. With the Pandaren halted, looking at one another in curiosity, the Hozen calmed himself somewhat, looking over his shoulder. From beyond the next bend came a sound that my Lady's ears had heard underneath the yelling; the sound of battle ahead. The Pandaren nodded, understanding finally that what had at first seemed to be an enemy was, in fact, a friend who was warning them of danger. Alerted now and guided by Alleriel, I watched as the group proceeded with caution, weapons at the ready as they passed around the bend. Following, the scene that unfolded before me made it clear what was happening. A small group of Saurok had assaulted a group of Hozen passing up the trail, threatening to overwhelm the forest dwelling creatures. With battle-cries the Pandaren charged into the fray, my Lady joining them quietly and using her training to help defend the Hozen. It took only a moment for the Saurok to recognize that they would be defeated, and they withdrew in haste, their nimble bodies scurrying over the edge of a cliff and onto a narrow ledge leading downwards that I would not have cared to tread upon myself.

With the threat gone, we took some time to tend to the Hozen who had been injured in the fray, and they gratefully joined us in our journey towards the Monastery. Our group had grown in size, and it amused me to think that what started as a simple journey for guidance had turned into a pilgrimage of so many varying peoples. This thought stayed with me, even as my Lady silently guided us ever onwards.

It was mid-afternoon when we encountered the final obstacle in our path. Rounding a bend and seeing the Monastery looming above us, we came upon a horrifying scene. Standing in the path was a Mogu warrior, his massive body taking up much of the space where one would walk. In his hand he carried a giant halberd, the weapon many feet longer than any that a Sin'dorei might carry and a glinting ax-blade at the end. Behind him, many Pandaren sat on the ground in misery, their hands bound behind them and a general feeling of fear radiating from them.

“More supplicants to serve!” the Mogu's voice bellowed out at us. He waved his weapon too and fro before him, and many in our party stepped back in terror. Never before had I seen such a massive creature, never before had I experienced such terror. How could one fight such a beast on the narrow path? Surely he would conquer us and we would become more prisoners! I am sure such thoughts went through the minds of the others amongst us as well.

There was one who did not quail at the sight of him however; my Lady Alleriel stepped forward, standing between the others and the beast of a Mogu. Calm and composed, she took in a deep breath to steady herself, falling into a combat pose. It was a brave act, and I record it now so that none may doubt that she is willing to put herself at risk for others. The creature laughed when he saw her, towering over her and yelling down at her, “Foolish weakling. You do not have the strength to defeat me! I will make an example of you so that the other slaves do not think to rebel!”

To her credit, my Lady said nothing, simply moving towards him silently. His weapon came down, and I will admit that I closed my eyes, already mourning her passing. And yet, the weapon struck nothing, the blade burying itself in the soil of the trail as she dodged it. Behind me a ragged cheer went up as the Pandaren saw their champion unharmed, the sound followed by a gasp as the Mogu dragged his weapon from the soil and brought it down again.

Again it missed. And again. And so it went on for some time, the creature attempting to shatter Alleriel's body with that cruel blade, and my Lady dodging the blows, nimbly moving from spot to spot or reaching out to slap the flat of the ax-head away and directing the weapon away from herself. I will always be amazed at her speed and determination as she fought, never coming close enough to be struck. After some time, the blade began to rise and fall more slowly, the blows more clumsy as the creature tired itself out. The trail was pitted with divots now from where he had attempted to strike and failed. Finally, the blade slammed home in the soil and despite his tugging, would not come free. Exhausted, he slumped on the weapon's handle, and my Lady walked up to him, a quick kick sending the worn out creature to the ground on his back.

We all looked on in awe, not believing she had defeated him without striking a blow. She smiled at us, nodding at the fallen creature and speaking softly, “Strength of arms is a virtue, but alone it does not win the battle. It is strength of heart and fortitude of mind that sees a battle through to its conclusion. The creature can never defeat you if you fight justly and with the heart needed to attain victory. Never believe you are beaten before the battle begins, or you truly shall be.”

With that she walked over to the captives, freeing the Pandaren. The rest of us followed her, looking at the fallen creature with distaste as we passed it. Once the captives were freed, we all continued up the trail, the Monastery's steps beckoning to us invitingly.

Upon those steps several Pandaren awaited the approaching group, their garb showing them to be monks who lived and trained there. As a group we paused some distance away from them, my Lady walking ahead to stand before them. She bowed low, a smile on her face and a greeting on her lips, “High Elder Cloudfall, it is an honor to visit with you once more. I believe I have passed the tests placed upon the trail, and hope you will give me your wisdom and guidance.”

Even from the distance at which I stood, the confusion on the Pandaren's face was evident. He shook his head, his voice curious, “Tests? We have placed no tests on the trail. Nor were we aware that such a throng of travelers was heading here. I welcome you all, and hope your journey has not been to difficult.”

Alleriel looked up, her eyes wide for a moment as she turned back towards us in confusion, “N-no tests? But then, why did we pass through such trials? I believed wrongly that all of this was designed to see what we would do when...”

Her voice trailed off and a smile crossed her face. It was hard to hear her, but I record her words here as I believe they were important. She spoke softly to herself, her voice serene, “I see it so clearly now. Had we not set out on this journey, I would not have encountered these difficulties. Had I not acted, then ills would have befallen others on their travels. While it is difficult to decide what the right course is, it is the actual doing, the fact that we have acted that has mended these ills. Whether or not I have made the right decision, I have acted. I have not let myself be dissuaded by the difficult path ahead. I have not acted with haste but with informed consideration of the matter. I have not allowed the apparent strength that our allies display to be the only guiding factor, but instead looked to the heart of the matter.”

She smiled at the Pandaren monks, bowing to them and then turning to me, looking more relaxed than she had in days. With a nod, she started back down the trail, even as the pilgrims passed by her and headed into the Monastery. She lightly touched my arm, guiding me back towards our hawkstriders, “I have found the answers I seek. They were within me all along. I had but to listen hard enough to understand them.”

It seems that answers can be found in many places and ways. I hope that the story of Lady Alleriel Sunhaven's journey will help others find their own.

Penned by my hand and will,

Seneschal Leneath Dawnrise

House Sunhaven