Tag Archives: Dalaran

The Not-So-Slow Fall

Hethurin immediately regretted throwing himself off Dalaran. Everyone and everything he loved flashed in his mind all at the same time as the crystal forest below the city appeared closer and closer. Would they even know what happened to him? He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, but maybe Thalien’s presence in his practice room would give them a good idea. But even then, would they be allowed to come back and look for his body?

Malwen had just found a family, and now he was going to die and leave Terellion to raise her and Narise alone. They might not even know what happened to him. Would Malwen believe he had left them on purpose? Maybe with her imagination, she’d believe he had turned into the dragonhawk! Narise would miss being carried around in the sling while he taught his class. He was sure of that. Terellion’s heart would be broken, and that broke Hethurin’s heart to even think about. He loved Ter and the girls more than anyone, and couldn’t imagine them suffering because of his foolish mistakes. The school that he had done so much work for would be left without its headmaster. Who would keep it running now? Desdeyliri and Keyalenn were to go for their testing after the holidays. Would they be able to go if the school closed?

His robe flew up over his face blocking his view of the approaching ground. He tried to move it out of the way only to decide there was no time to bother. His only hope now was that the silencing would wear off before he hit the ground. He tried to cast the spell to slow his fall, but no words came out. He tried again, and again. Time was running out.

A sharp crystal branch tore at his leg just as the words came from his mouth. Another tore at his thigh. The last word of the spell came out as more of a yelp of pain than the actual word, but it worked. His head hit the broad-side of another branch just as the spell took effect, but it hit hard enough that he passed out from the pain. His body continued to float slowly to the ground, the remaining branches scratching at him as he broke through the forest canopy.  He came to rest in a thorny crystal bush still unconscious.


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Saving Thalien

Hethurin Fairsong double-checked that he had locked his practice room door. He only had a short time. Narise had taken longer to go down for her nap than usual, and break for lunch was almost over. He was due back in the classroom soon. Luckily, time magic would allow him to return to just a few seconds after he left, so he wasn’t worried about getting back on time. Rather, he was worried about leaving before any interruptions.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room. His hourglass sat on the middle of the table. Xyliah and Berwick would be leaving the Ghostlands soon, so he had to do this now.

He had spent some of his spare time in the past weeks preparing for today. He had viewed and followed the dragonhawk’s flight from Dalaran and back. He had watched as Berwick sent Xyliah first. Thalien had carried her to safety, and she sent him back for Berwick. He had almost made it too, though Berwick had been captured moments before. Hethurin had watched that too, wishing he could do something, but knowing that sort of change would mess up the timeline. Saving the dragonhawk wouldn’t have the impact that rescuing Berwick ahead of time would. Xyliah had been one of the key people to help plan the mission to save some of the elves held in the city. Removing her involvement would remove a great number of the rangers who came to assist with the operation.

Thalien had died on his way back for Berwick. He had successfully dodged two frost bolts, only to be hit in the wing by a third when he was almost to the place where Berwick had been when he left carrying Xyliah. Hethurin had viewed the dragonhawk as he went spiraling out of control, hitting the outer wall of the city forcefully as he tried to regain control of his injured wing. After hitting the wall, he went limp and dropped into the crystal forest below the city.

Hethurin had slowed his viewing at that point, studying the limp dragonhawk in the moments before it hit the ground. He had hoped to find some sign that it was still alive, but no matter how slowly he viewed Thalien’s descent, he could not discern if he was still breathing or not. That meant he was going to have to grab him out of his time before he hit the wall if there was going to be any hope of saving him for Xyliah.

That meant going to Dalaran during the purge.

He took a deep breath. He knew it was imperative that no one saw him during this mission. He would be able to get there and hide himself under one of his invisibility wards, but to cast the spell to save Thalien and teleport him to the future, he was going to have to let it drop. It would be only for a short time, but it still made him nervous. He did not want to be captured in the past.

He was also worried about teleporting an injured and panicked dragonhawk into his practice room. He had put most breakables away, though his glass rat cage was still in one corner. He hoped Thalien had enough sense to take a rest once he realized he was inside, and in a different place.

He cast his invisibility spell then turned over the hourglass while casting his spell to go to the time of the purge of Dalaran.

He arrived just outside the wall on the thin strip of grass between the city, and the drop to the forest below. He was moments ahead of Thalien’s arrival. He heard shouting and screaming from inside the city. He crouched near the wall, and focused on keeping his invisibility active while watching the sky where Thalien would approach. The human mage who would eventually shoot Thalien with a frost bolt was already at it, shooting at other dragonhawks to remove methods of escape from the city.

A few seconds later, he saw the dragonhawk approach. He watched as he dodged the first frost bolt. The human mage cast again, and Thalien dodged the second one. Hethurin waited. He had to let the human expend the same amount of magic on his spells as he was supposed to. He was determined not to change anything except the dragonhawk’s death. He held his breath as the human mage cast again. He readied his own spell to catch the dragonhawk, and send him forward through time to the Ghostlands. The frost bolt fired from the human mage’s hands, and hit Thalien’s left wing. The dragonhawk began tumbling towards the wall. Hethurin broke his invisibility, and cast his spell, teleporting the dragonhawk forward to his practice room just seconds before it hit the wall.

He took a deep breath and began to cast his spell to return himself. He was almost through it when it stopped. He opened his mouth to cast it again, but nothing came out.

“You! Halt! You’re under arrest!”

Hethurin looked up. Another human mage stood on the wall looking down at him.

“Don’t move. Someone’s coming to take you into custody.”

His heart was racing. He heard the mage talking to someone else.

“Hurry before the silencing wears off.”

Hethurin glanced back up. He was bad at judging the age of humans, but this one looked fairly young. An apprentice then. He looked back down to see an armored human running towards him with arcane shackles.

He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being taken prisoner. He glanced back up at the apprentice mage, and glared at him until the armored human was only a few feet away, the whole time trying to cast his spell. The silencing held, and the apprentice smiled smugly.

Hethurin shook his head and mouthed the words, “Not today”, in common, hoping the human could read lips. He threw himself off the side of the ledge, and began plummeting to towards the crystal forest below.

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Alternate Realities 1

Hethurin Fairsong closed his eyes and started casting the spell.

“No.  Keep your eyes open.  You won’t see anything with them closed.”

Hethurin stopped casting and opened them.  It was mostly dark anyway.  Renner had taken care to cover the windows so that no light could come in.  The only light was from a magical orb that Hethurin himself had conjured, and the hourglass on the table, which glowed with an eerie bronze light.  Renner claimed it was tuned to Hethurin specifically, and they had used the sand he had from the Bronze Dragonshrine in it’s creation.  “It’s not going to do that thing it does with the fading out and back in?”

“No, we’ll be placed within the vision.  It’s dark enough in here that it will just appear around us.  Remember, you won’t be able to interact with anyone.  It is just a vision of an alternate present.”

“You’re going with me?”

Renner nodded in the low light.  “I’ll be there.”

Hethurin took a deep breath and started casting the spell again, this time keeping his eyes open.  The room shimmered as the vision appeared around them.  It looked like they were in the Dalaran sewers, though they hadn’t actually gone anywhere.  They were still in the practice room at home.  Hethurin was impressed with the clarity of the vision.  It wasn’t just the vision either.  Sounds, and even smell had come with it.  He scrunched up his nose as he looked around.  It was quiet.  The dripping of water was one of the few things he heard.  Bones were strewn about on the ground around a pool of filthy water.  He looked to Renner.  “Why are we here?”

“The hourglass is tuned to you.  Given that we’re in Dalaran in this present…”  Renner eyed the bones on the ground.

“You think I died?” Hethurin gasped, looking at the bones.  “I wasn’t even given a proper burial!”

“At this point in time, I don’t think the Kirin Tor cares much about giving a proper burial.  I could be wrong.  Perhaps in this timeline you were curious, and went for a walk in the sewers. You met a crocolisk, and no one ever discovered you.  Perhaps, in this timeline, the sin’dorei are still allowed in the city.”

“Can we find out what happened?”

Renner looked at the bones.  “Are you sure you want to know?”

Hethurin frowned slightly and nodded, “I’ll be okay.  It’s something that could have happened, but didn’t.”

“We can go back along this timeline.  You know the spell, simply adjust it to this timeway.”

Hethurin nodded again and started casting the spell.  The scene in the room suddenly changed.  Arcane prisons were lined up in rows.  A few human guards stood watch over each row.

“I was captured.  This is what happened if I didn’t go to the farm.”

“It’s one of the things that could have happened.  There’s never just one possibility.”

Hethurin neared the closest prison, frowning as he looked inside.  He glanced up at Renner, “They aren’t feeding me, are they?”  He looked in again.  The captured elf lay curled on the floor of the prison, his shallow breathing the only movement.  He barely resembled Hethurin at all, and instead looked more like the skeleton they had seen earlier.  “I died in there.  They dumped my body in the sewer.”

Renner nodded, “That sounds likely.”

Hethurin cast another spell, taking them back a little further.

“The day of the purge?”  Renner raised a brow.

Hethurin nodded.  They were in a stairwell, watching his alternate self go down the last flight of stairs to ground level.  His alternate self paused at the door after opening it.  Shouts were heard from outside.  They watched as the alternate Hethurin closed the door quickly, and started to cast a teleport spell.  He stopped mid-cast, and looked up the stairs.  There was pounding on the door, as the elf took off up the stairs.

“He’s going back for something.”  Hethurin said as the door broke down.  A human mage ran up first, casting a spell after turning on the first landing.  Hethurin recognized the spell.  “He was just silenced.”  

Hethurin followed the humans up the stairs.  The door to the apartment he had shared with Aeramin was locked.  The humans were trying to break it down.  Hethurin cast another spell and the vision changed to inside the apartment.  There, his alternate self was writing to explain what was happening.  Aeramin was there.

“He’s supposed to be in Shattrath.”

“Not in this timeline.”

They continued watching as Aeramin questioned why.  Why were the humans attacking all the elves?  As the door hinges started to break, Aeramin gave up on understanding why.  “Take Muffins.  Hide in the bedroom.  I’ll take care of this.”  He started drawing a circle on the floor, as his alternate self ran to the other room with his cat.

“No.”  Hethurin shook his head, “No, they’ll kill him if he…”  Of course, Aeramin couldn’t hear him.  He trailed off as Aeramin began to summon.

The door fell to the side of the doorway just as a large voidlord appeared above the circle.  Aeramin commanded it to attack as he conjured fire and sent it towards the doorway.  The mage, who was mid-cast on another silencing spell, screamed as the fire hit and lit his beard on fire.  The voidlord attacked one of the others, picking him up and tossing him like a rag doll into a third human.  

It was one of the humans still outside the door who threw the knife.  It hit Aeramin in the chest just as another fireball flew across the room.  The orange-haired elf staggered as he looked down.  He fell to his knees as the voidlord tossed another human, this one went tumbling down the stairs.  The voidlord paused as Aeramin fell forward and lay still on the floor, then disappeared with his regained freedom.

One of the two humans left in the apartment went to the bedroom door and opened it.  He shouted to the other, who ran in to join him.  A minute later they both dragged out a crying alternate elf, who started screaming when he saw Aeramin’s lifeless body.  The humans continued pulling him along, out the door and down the stairs.

“I think I’ve seen enough of this one.”  Hethurin frowned as he cast the spell to end the vision.

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Xyliah’s Diary

Dear Diary,

Now that I finally have a book to write in again, I figured I should start with good news.  Everything went as planned.  Berwick is alive and we got him out of the prison in Dalaran.  Thankfully, Kit’s guy was alive as well.  So many innocent people died, and why?  Because one human flipped out.  I wouldn’t have followed her orders had I been on the other side.  It makes me wonder why so many did.  They were probably just waiting for an excuse to oust the sin’dorei from Dalaran, but why murder so many?  Why lock up innocents?  They could have just told us we had to leave.  There wasn’t any warning though, just arrests and deaths.

It doesn’t make sense at all, though war rarely does.

I feel a little guilty knowing that not everyone had their loved ones come home from Dalaran.  Not even all the ones imprisoned survived.  We found more than one dead elf in the crowded cells while we were releasing them.  Some people needed to be carried to the portal.  I feel horrible about the cells we couldn’t get to.

I found Berwick when we retreated back through the portals ourselves.  We wound up having to stay in Venomspite.  Luckily, Kit still had her room so we were able to share it.  I think some of the ex-prisoners may have been ill.  Captain Fairsun made sure the mages stayed awake long enough get the severely ill and injured sent to Silvermoon first so that they could get proper care.  I went to find one later but they had all went to rest by then.

I made sure Berwick ate well.  Ember kept him warm… and hogged his affection for the night.  In the morning, I asked one of the mages for a portal to Eversong.  Kit and Teniron went with us, but I think they stayed at one of the towns there.  I made a fire once we were there, and heated some of the stream water to wash him.  He was so filthy!  I washed his clothes too, and wrapped a blanket that I stole from Venomspite around him while they dried.  I did not want to bring him home to father smelling like a sewer drain.

Father is fine with us staying here with him in Silvermoon.  I offered to help in the shop while we get back on our feet financially.  I do take frequent breaks to make sure Berwick is resting.  He wants to help out in the shop too, but I’d rather that he gets the rest he needs to feel better first.

I’m not an aunt yet.  Father said it should be any day now and that Nessna is huge.  The healers thought it was a girl at first, but now they’re not sure.  I guess the baby wants to be a surprise!

When Berwick’s better we’ll go visit.  I can’t believe I’ll be an aunt soon.

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Filed under Journal, World of Warcraft, Xyliah

The Rescue

(( Co-written with Berwick‘s and Kit‘s players. ))

Xyliah Amberlight joined the others congregating at the edge of town.  Tonight was the night.  The plans had been made.  Now all they had to do was carry them out.  She shivered in the cold air as she neared the group.  The dragonhawks had been readied.  Three of them were tethered next to the group of people.  She was to ride one to one of three points in the city, hers being the location for the mage to open a portal to.  The other two were going to two different places along the planned route.

Llosson Fairsun, the ranger in charge of the mission, nodded as she approached.  He handed her a satchel.  “The scrying glass is inside.  Contact us as soon as you get there and know it’s clear.  The others are ready as soon as you are.”

They were to leave together, flying low until they were under the city then straight up from below it to minimize their chances of being seen.  Xyliah nodded.  She was as ready as she would ever be.  She took the satchel, and said, “Tell them we leave now.”  The corner of Llosson’s mouth bent in a small half-smile as he nodded and headed towards the others.

She bit her lip as she turned and headed towards the dragonhawk.  They had done everything they could to prepare for this, but so many things could go wrong.  She and the others had spent long nights watching the hold from outside, watching guards enter and leave, taking notes of the times and the faces.  If there was any deviation in the guard’s regular schedule tonight, they could all be caught.  She swung the satchel over her shoulder, making space for it next to her quiver and shortbow, and she climbed onto the dragonhawk’s back.

The ride there was uneventful.  Her companions were as silent as she as their dragonhawks’ wings whispered in the cold air over the snowy landscape.  They followed a chasm formed in the ice as they neared the forested area just north of Dragonblight.

She looked up as soon as they passed out of the canyon.  The mage city floated above.  “I’m coming for you, Berwick.” she whispered.  All three dragonhawks picked up their pace, flying low and fast to just under the city where they began their ascent.

As they neared the floating city, they broke away from each other, each going to their assigned area.  Xyliah halted her dragonhawk on the grassy area outside the wall near the hold.  She dismounted and opened the satchel, taking out the small mirror.  She quickly activated it as she had been shown.  Llosson’s face appeared.  “It’s clear.”  Xyliah stated.  Moments later a mage portal opened nearby.  The rest of the rescue party came through one by one.

One of the other dragonhawk riders had taken position on the wall over the prison.  He had to first incapacitate any of the guards posted outside and on the walls, but within minutes the second part of his job was completed.  The rope dropped down near where the party was waiting.  Two of the scouts went up first, followed by Llosson and then the others.  Xyliah sent her dragonhawk through the portal, just before it closed, sending it back to Venomspite.  She followed the others up the rope.

There were guards outside.  They slept standing as they leaned against the walls.  Xyliah smiled.  It was working.  She glanced towards the opening in the stone wall that led to the rest of the city.  As long as there were no deviations in their routines, they were clear to get in.

The scouts had been sent ahead to unlock the outer doors and make sure the guards would be no trouble.  Some of the rangers took strategic positions along the wall, others waited with the mages.  Xyliah smiled at Kit as they went down the ropes to join Llosson and the few others going into the hold.  They were here.  They were going to get them out.

His ears didn’t really hear the voices at first, somewhere far-away, like in a dream. Berwick didn’t dream often anymore, but he did sleep — there wasn’t much else to do. So he believed it was only the remnants of a dream, his ears hearing things that weren’t there. One of them even sounded like Xyliah, and he wished he could remember the dream if she had been in it. He glanced up to the little window and saw that the sky was an inky purple. Berwick got up from his cot to approach the bars of his cage, but he couldn’t see anything unusual. In the dark shadows near the doorway, he could see the silhouette of the sleepy guard, but nothing else.

Teniron, the jeweler who shared his cell, had awoken as well. “What is it?” he asked, a whisper hardly above a breath. They weren’t permitted to talk to each other, so they’d found a way around that. The prisoners had some hand signals as well, a system that had developed naturally in their time in captivity. No one knew exactly how long it had been, but they all showed the physical signs — if he lifted his shirt, Berwick could count each rib, and it was difficult to find a comfortable position to sleep because everywhere felt too bony. Eventually, he supposed, they would all waste away to nothing, but it wouldn’t matter because they had already been forgotten.

“I thought I heard something,” Berwick whispered back, watching the guard warily. But there was something off, something unusual in the way he stood. It was as if someone was holding him up. Berwick knew which guard it was — he’d seen him come in earlier that evening. His hair was cropped short and he had a notch in his right ear. He usually fell asleep during his shift, that part wasn’t unusual, but it was strange that he seemed to still be standing up. The door creaked open with a jarring squeal that seemed impossibly loud in the darkness. Other prisoners heard it too, and stirred awake to see what was happening. But still the guard slept. Berwick’s heart picked up its pace. Was something really happening? Had someone really come for them?

Kit rolled her shoulder impatiently, and shifted the helm, moving it slightly to clear her vision.  She could feel her muscles pulling her forward into a slouch, so she tightened her shoulder blades to set her back and ease the tension in her neck.  They’d been waiting for only a few minutes, but it felt like hours.  Captain Fairsun held up the small group on a side street, across from the nondescript building where the prisoners they were here to free were being held.

The streets were unusually quiet for this time of night in Dalaran.  The small city was always active, even in these hours before dawn.  She could remember thinking how much louder it was here compared to most other cities that she’d been.  Teniron had thought that it had to do with the close proximity of the buildings, and they’d both agreed how lucky he’d been to find a home with thick walls.

A subtle flicker of light low to the ground, caught her attention.  She snapped her head around to watch the streets.  There were no guards in sight, the scouts had done their job and the faint pulse was their signal to move.  With a nod, the captain hurried over the cobblestones, followed close and in near silence by the rescuers.

She shifted her grip on her hammer, holding the massive weapon near its head as they slipped through an open door and began to follow the narrow hallway.  It wasn’t her first choice for combat in such a closed in space.  She’s have prefered a smaller mace or axe, but her choices had been limited.  She envied the ranger walking ahead of her.  Xyliah had outfitted herself in leather and mail, and moved with a grace of an experienced hunter.  Her new friend had looked at the plate she’d chosen with skepticism.  Kit knew it wasn’t as practical, but she was a knight and the weight of the heavy armor brought a sense of comfort and familiarity with it.  If there was fighting, she wanted every advantage at her disposal.

No one wanted that, though.  The primary plan was to go in and get out quickly and quietly with no casualties on either side.  It was agreed that further bloodshed in this city would only agitate the Kirin Tor.  They were all willing to let the battle be fought elsewhere in order to save as many lives up here as possible.

A tall mage passed her, hurrying to the end of the corridor where it branched to the left and right.  He peeked cautiously both ways, then turned back to the group and nodded.  At that, they separated into their assigned positions.  Kit grinned with excitement at Xyliah and whispered, “Almost there.”  She crept with the others, swallowing hard when she saw the number of doors in front of them.  Each one held at least one prisoner, maybe more if the reports were correct.

They moved down the hallway, and began carefully opening each cell in turn.  The prisoners were cautioned to silence, and were herded to the waiting portals that had been opened to Venomspite.  Kit helped the best that she could, letting the sickly looking men and women lean on her as the walked.  Her heart raced, and she tried to concentrate on her job.  It was extremely difficult to not study every face for the only person she cared about.  So far, she’d not spotted him, but she didn’t know if he was at the other end or this one.  She blinked back tears.  Every soul they were setting free was thin, as if they’d not eaten well in a long time.  They were filthy, and the stench of rot was making someone somewhere gag.  She shook her head.  If they couldn’t stand this, they had no place in the middle of a real fight.  She felt sorry for whoever it was.  War was not for the weak, and she felt sure that this was only the beginning.

She helped a small woman through the portal, and stepped to the side to let another pass through.  As she turned, she looked up at the scruffy man making his way towards her.  He looked like all the rest, dirty, bruised, and he walked with what may have been a limp, or perhaps he was simply weak.  She ducked her head to stop staring, when he walked by her.  She took a few steps, then stopped dead hearing the man speak a muffled thanks to the mage.  “Teniron!” she gasped.  Whirling around, she whimpered upon seeing him vanish through the shimmering lights.  She started towards the portal to go after him, but a sharp cough brought her attention to the scouts standing guard at the intersection.  A flurry of hand signals set the rangers to a faster pace.  Kit set her shoulders again.  They had to hurry.  The sun was rising, and they were almost out of time.  With one last glance at the portal, she hurried to help the next prisoner from his cell.

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Filed under Story, Teniron, World of Warcraft, Xyliah

Dalaran and Venomspite

Teniron Whitemorn leaned against the wall of the cell that he and a few others had been kept in.  He watched the small opening above their heads where a crack of light shone through into the dirty cell.  Talking wasn’t allowed.  He scanned the other faces of his fellow prisoners.  Most of them had lost hope.  He was beginning to too.

How long has it been?  Shouldn’t someone have come by now?  Shouldn’t they have talked them into releasing us?  Kit would have made sure someone came for me, right?  With all of her yelling at me before I realized what was happening, I think she cares enough to have wanted me to get away too.

What if something happened to her?  The last I seen of her was when she went over the wall.  Was the landing clear?  What if she fell into more guards?  She could be dead, and it would be my fault.  Maybe she’s in one of the cells that I can’t see.  

My brother would come for me, if he got out.  I haven’t seen him either.  Did they kill him too?  Maybe he’s in a cell– No, he wouldn’t be.  He would have fought.  He’s dead, and it’s my fault.

What did they do with the bodies?  I saw more than one dead elf on the way to the wall.  Did they throw them off the side of the city?  Were they resting on the floor of the forest below, a free feast for the wolves that dwelled there, or did someone come to pick them up and take them home where they belonged?


Xyliah Amberlight fed the small, dark dragonhawk a slice of apple.  “It’s been a busy day, Caras.  Did you miss me?  I hope you and Ember played well.”

The corehound pup whimpered as it rubbed against Xyliah’s leg.  “Yes, Ember, I know you’re hungry too.  I got something for you too.”

Xyliah reached into her satchel and pulled out a piece of wrapped meat.  “Here you go.” she said, as she placed the meat on a plate and put it on the floor next to the pup, who eagerly began to eat.  Xyliah smiled, “Now I know I wasn’t gone that long.”

It had been a busy day, and she had been gone most of it, but the change in schedule for her did not disrupt the usual times she fed the two animals.  She had left in the morning after feeding them to meet with Llosson Fairsun.  She had contacted him through the mail, and received a note that he would stop by on his way through Dragonblight.  She wasn’t expecting the small army he had brought with him.  Enough to get in and get out, but still be a mobile unit.  She didn’t hesitate when he asked if she would like to accompany them.  They most likely wouldn’t be able to get to the most guarded prisoners, but there was a good chance that Berwick was in one of the outer cells.

She had also told Llosson about Kit, the other woman she had met who was staying in Venomspite.  She had someone to save as well, and was skilled.  Llosson wished to meet her before agreeing, but Xyliah was sure he would in the end.

She looked out the north window.  She couldn’t see the city from here, just some old trees and snow.  “Hang on, Berwick.  We’ll be there soon.”

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Filed under Story, Teniron, World of Warcraft, Xyliah

Theronil’s Log

I’ve heard back from Lhosson Fairsun in Silvermoon.  He was unable to give me any information in the letter, but he has asked that I join him in Silvermoon for lunch later this week.  I’ll have to talk to Isandri about it when she gets home from her classes.

Teniron and I have had our differences.  He’s a womanizing drunk, and I’m not.  Of course we don’t get along well.  I do think he was making an effort to change, but he upset Isandri so I had to cut off contact with him, again.  From what I have heard, he has made some effort to continue to turn his life around.  I almost feel bad about not telling him that I wasn’t feeling so safe in Dalaran, but no one could have foreseen this happening.  I probably would have stayed myself if it wasn’t for Isandri.  I love her, and staying in Dalaran while tensions were high would have put her at risk as well.  I feel much safer with her in Shattrath where there are no angry humans taking charge after their towns were destroyed.

I don’t know who thought that would be a good idea.

At any rate, Teniron deserved to be left behind.  After all, he left behind our parents, Tedralyn and her husband, Thess, Sol, his wife, and his daughter.  The scourge killed them all, thanks to him running.

Teniron is probably still alive though.  I guess if there is anything I can do, I probably should.

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