The Village.
“Shan’do why must you go again? It is not wise to leave the safety of this place! You know what lies beyond this land. What chaos there is. You have spoken to all of us again and again on the dangers this world provides to us. Why go? Why leave us?! You are the best warrior we have even in the state you are in.” The younger woman exclaim, her face ridden with tears. As her shan’do was packing, placing provisions on a hippogryph.
The shan’do paused, speaking softly, quite calmly. A certain resignation in her tone as she did. “Ever since Teldrassil burned little one I came here, to Hyjal to ensure Nordrassil would not be next. The Horde have avoided coming here. They will not come knowing what gods and spirits of nature value this tree and its land. The Warchief saw what happened when the Firelord Ragnaros fell to the champions of this world tree. She would be wise to never strike this home. Unless she desires life itself to align with the Alliance to remove her undeath from this planet.” She frowned as she spoke. “What that means however...is that this war should never come here. I have trained you and your sisters in arms for months incase it does. I have faith you will be able to protect this village without me here.”
“But Shan’do! Where will you go?! We do not have a real military outside of these walls. We do not know what is going on! We so rarely get outside news and it comes even less now then it did before!” The young woman exclaimed.
“Where will I go?” the elder Kaldorei let a slow grin form. “I will go where I know fighting will be. What news we do know I see a problem. Both sides are running out of men and women to fight. Child. They will be calling and forcing peasants to fight alongside savage warriors new and old. They will die. Then what? If the workers are called to war no one works the land, no one seeks natures harvest and everyone starves. If this war continues without warriors having a clear victory we will all starve to death with future famine to come. Do you understand child? The Alliance needs warriors to stop this war.” More women had gathered now, men too. For Faeril had trained the village to fight as one, to fight as she had learned to outside of her peaceful home.
“My thero’shans...it has been an honor to teach and guide you all. I hope I can return to see only great things have happened here. I hope to return and once again be an elder for this village. To give wizened years of knowledge to the young. But these are dark times. I know our faith in the Goddess has been strained. Why would she allow all of this to happen with the might of the Horde killing our people? Mourn them. Mourn our capital. Mourn the losses incurred by the savages we know too well. But live. Farm, produce. This world will soon starve from lack of harvest. Any aid we can provide where we are can help this world’s peoples survive.” As Faeril spoke she’d finished packing her provisions. A massive longbow strapped to her backside. Adorned in her armor. her hair tied back she’d look out to the small crowd gathered. The Sentinel was going off to war and the village knew it.
“Shan’do. Take Shalla’tor with you! If we cannot go take what we know will help you fight this enemy.” As a young man spoke they motioned toward a nightsaber they’d trained for combat. It had a vicious look to it, but it was otherwise quite friendly outside of a fight. “....I will. Train her cubs well. If she is willing to trust me and depart.” It was almost as though the saber knew what was to come and padded along to walk with the hippogryph. Alor’el.
“Ande'thoras-ethil my friends...my neighbors. Elune guide us all out of this shadow into a never ending full moon.”
“Elune adore, Shan’do.”
With that the elder Kaldorei departed. To leave the comforts of a village she’d spent months training for combat that never came. Once again the inner core of duty called for her to return. To fight for her people and her peoples land. She’d find somewhere to go, a boat to catch. The Alliance needed any help it could get. A Kaldorei with a warsaber and warhippogryph may not do much. But every orc dead is a good orc dead in the elder’s mind. The savages hadn’t changed a bit.
She glanced to the two animal companions that would accompany her on this journey. “If the military recruits us I go by another name as well my friends. The Alliance knew me once before as Fenril….Fenril Moonshadow. We shall see what name I get to keep going into the wilds this time.” She chuckled quietly as they wandered into the thickened forests of Mount Hyjal. Her mind drifted to one cry many knew all too well. One that rallied people she knew around her.
For the Alliance.
