"I. Am. Retired." Kelenar gestured around at where he was reclined, on a beach in Undermine, sipping at a drink while the waves lapped nearby. "I don't think you understand how retired I am. I'm done."
A Sin'dorei magister stood nearby, tapping his foot impatiently. Kelenar hadn't listened to his name. Dawn-something or other, probably. He was a huffy, scrawny little paper pusher who could probably conjure a rain storm the likes of which Undermine had never seen. Thankfully, he was refraining from that. He did huff, though. "Your father told me specifically to bring you back."
"I don't answer to him. In fact, I'm well outside of the Horde's jurisdiction, here." He lifted his glass, and a helpful goblin refilled it with alcohol strong enough to strip paint. "So cheers. Have fun with whatever it is you're doing. I'll have a few more glasses of this so I don't have to hear kaldorei screaming as Teldrassil burns in my dreams. Again. And again. And again. Fuck your wars."
The magister sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The void is coming."
"Then you better get on that. I'm sure the heroes of Azeroth will save the day yet again, then go back to killing each other once the dust settles. I have a volleyball game at noon." Kelenar made a dismissive gesture.
"You don't understand. The forces of the void are specifically coming to Quel'thalas. We have...reliable information. They're coming for us. Your father is among the magisters who have pushed to have all of our reserve forces brought back and outfitted to help defend Quel'thalas. That includes you. So...if you don't mind?" He gestured at a waiting portal.
Kelenar sighed heavily and looked down at his drink. He tossed it back and grimaced, then pushed himself out of his chair. To his credit, he only wobbled a little. "Fine, let's go."
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