It has come to my attention that myself and yours have not come together for a proper meeting in quite some time. As it stands, the Amber Glade is one of the biggest contributors to the Oathguard in Dalaran and abroad in the Broken Shore with supplies and units. I would like to propose a meeting, one in which we are able to sit and revisit all stocks as well as forces and what advances are needed from here on out in the fight against the Legion. With many of the Masterâs bent and broken, it will take renegotiation I believe to finally get everything back on even playing fields.
Please respond when you are able and accompanied with a time and date that would best suit your busy schedule within the Glade. I will be sure to set aside time to promptly see you and tend to these matters.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Arwen sits by the waterâs edge, cradled in the silver hush of midnight.   The stars above, strange and distant, scatter like pinpricks across a deep velvet sky, so different from the wilder constellations of her homeland.   The chill of night air presses against her skin, grounding her in this unfamiliar realm, where danger and beauty walk hand in hand.   She draws in another slow breath from her pipe, the smoke filling her lungs.   It tastes faintly of dew-drenched petals and morning mist, with an afterglow that settles behind her eyes, softening the edges of her worried, frayed thoughts.
The plant in the bowl of her pipe is something sheâd plucked herself, deep in the heart of the Feywild, from a grove that murmured in a language older than any mortal tongue.   She breathes out, watching as the smoke curls into the night air, spiraling up like a wisp of cloud before it fades.   The quiet laps around her like water, deep and soothing, yet laced with an undercurrent of sorrow.   She has spent her life as a daughter of the wilds, a creature of light and laughter, wandering the woods with songbirds at her side.   To die here, tethered to a strange, foreign land, before sheâs even had a chance to understand itâthereâs a sharpness to that thought that cuts deep.   This wasnât how sheâd imagined her grand adventure.   But perhaps thatâs the nature of adventures:   they rarely take the shape one expects.
Lost in her reverie, she barely registers the sound of footsteps until they are almost upon her.   She turns her head, eyes widening slightly, and the motion sends a puff of smoke trailing from her lips, a soft cloud that catches the light of the moon.   She coughsâan undignified little choke that she waves away with one hand, her fingers light and fluttering, as if to brush the smoke from the air.
â Sorry, â   she murmurs, her accented voice a soft, melodic thing, caught halfway between laughter and apology.   Her pale pink cheeks flush slightly, though whether from the cough or from surprise, even she couldnât say.   She hadnât expected anyone else to be awake.   The others had slipped into slumber, one by one, weary bodies yielding to the demands of the mortal world.   And though, as a fey who gets most of her energy and nutrients from the rays of the sun like a plant, she still understands the need for the others to rest.Â
â I didnât realize anyone was still awake, â   she adds, her tone gentle, almost lilting, as she tucks a strand of pink hair behind one pointed ear.   The golden light of her eyes finds Dramâszin, this half-drow who has joined their company with his own enigmatic purpose.  â I couldnât sleep, so I thought Iâd . . .   unwind. â   Her voice trails off, as if the word itself is foreign, some piece of mortal slang sheâs picked up along her journey.
â In my village, â   she says carefully, the lie slipping like silk from her lips, though it leaves an odd taste in her mouth,   â we call this ard. â   She lets the word linger in the air, an echo of her own world, though she knows it sounds strange here, stripped of its meaning.   â Itâs good for . . .   stress relief.   Pain relief.   And it can offer a sense of . . .   euphoria, â   she says, pronouncing the last word slowly, as if tasting it for the first time in the common tongue.
She watches him, curiosity sparking in her gaze as she extends the pipe, its silvery wood glinting faintly in the moonlight.   Itâs an invitationâa quiet offering of her world to his.   Her supply is dwindling, true, but itâs in her nature to share.   Good things, sheâs learned, grow even sweeter in the company of others.   â Would you like to try some? â
âWell of course I am concerned for my familyâs safety, but like I mentioned before, you are my family. And when you make these decisions, I will go along with them if it is truly what you want. You knowâŠI never told you, but I never wanted you to leave the Manor, despite having understood your reasoning whyâŠâ
âI was head strong in wanting to be independent and surrounded by people. Hungry for showing my father I could survive and I wasnât a little girl any more; I see now I should have stayed. Perhaps I would have saved myself a lot of trouble but then I wouldnât have learned the things I have and opened my heart to disappointments that ultimately changed me. Funny how that is, life.â
She had already spoken with Elenaris and certainly within the presence of Baezen and Lord Ashweaver, while some discussions came and went it was the most fearful consideration that her children might not have been welcomed into the Eventide line. To some degree in her life she was going to inherit everything and with how her fatherâs health had only been declining over the years and her mother with her retirement, there was only one to hold faith in. Her cousin Syrhis had not been seen in some time nor her Uncle Altherianâs children, there was a burden and weight to bare and she was the only capable one to do so.
She could not decide the fate of her children into the Eventide name simply because they were far too young and already the Eventideâs had been decades without a young one to offer forth.
The Aegis along side of the Oathguard and her bolstered forces of the Blackguard were unstoppable forces to place alongside of one another and it wasnât the first time that such a pairing had come to exist in victory. The last had been the days in Draenor and since they had split to come meet the Cult face to face in battle. The Aegis, the Blackguard â the two families both Eventide and Sunârael could have made a remarkable stamp into their families and their heritages to pass on.
He welcomed her children without any questions asked. Saying things like: âThey are a part of you and thus they are important.â or discussing about how he had a planned party with Rhistel. Such a man who was good to her children regardless of their blood, was a good man indeed. Even her heart heavy with pain or past guilt didnât stop her from allowing herself a kiss placed to his cheek or his hand to take hers, a caress over her knuckles. There was a familiar sense in his touch as was certain that came from his familiar presence. Here was a man and a woman who both knew each other for some time and had felt comfortable with one another about anything and everything. There had been plenty of time between them and even more to grow as two individuals and surprisingly to Kaevia, Elenaris had offered up Velâadir in this little venture once more, one in which Kaevia would not argue.
All it took was a few simple words of âIâll see you at home.â to part the two and they each went along their merry way. For the better part of a month or so Velâadir had been staying with Silvia and Kaevia in their little flat within Dalaran only for the sole purpose of waiting for Elenaris to arrive, Dymere and the entire Aegis thoughâŠVelâadir had been told he was able to remain if he wished it, and he did.
Rhistel of course was over the moon and often gawked at Velâadir in between their coloring sessions or when they would all sit for breakfast, it was as if though she was completely enamored with him as a person, that she felt happy and Rhistelâs tone showed it. The six year old was no longer terribly snide or having those bouts of sassy tantrums â she was leveling out to how she had been long before the split between her mother and father; as most children had done. There was little Rhistel understood about the situation but Kaevia and Silvia always tried their best to explain it, often finding safe distractions for the young one to busy herself with.
No one could replace the adoptive father she came to know but that did not mean there wasnât enough space in her gentle heart to love other figures that wanted her to be a part of their lives.
As she walked through the streets of Dalaran with the setting sun over head the Priestess couldnât help but smile during her travels towards the Temple. She loved her work and enjoyed being hands and eyes deep into the tomes Juvess had given her to transcribe to assist the Priest in her research work but the thought of arriving home was something far more enjoyable which justâŠ..might have quickened her pace.
It was a prolonged blink. It felt good to rest his eyes for a moment. But then, suddenly, itâs a rush again as his mind tries to process everything. The sharp and familiar scent of antiseptic that always made his stomach queasy. The distinct mixture how blood and disinfectant smelled when mixed in the air that reminded him of triage areas he had seen throughout his lifetime of warfare and bloodshed. His eyes couldnât focus. He would blink again, just as lengthy as last time as his consciousness teetered on the very edge of reality. Images of a burning QuelâThalas, of a Silvermoon with countless corpses left in the wake of the Scourge found themselves climbing to his semi-conscious thought. Incoherent flashes of violence and brutality began swirling in his delirium. More allies screaming in pain as flesh tore and organs flowed like blood out of bodies, diseases ravaging them within Icecrown Citadel, undead monstrosities killing indiscriminately. Vile aberrations created under Neltharionâs will also flooded his mind as he watched old friends become cleaved, smashed or devoured, those whose names escaped his tongue but whose faces he had burned into memory in their last agonizing moments.
His eyes opened again as his breath hastened, becoming sharper and more desperate as if he was being suffocated. His vision shifted rapidly from focused to a wild blur. Another long blink came as his fatigue started to get the best of him. More gruesome images of corpses left into a mound by monstrosities within Wyrmrest Temple filled his mind, grotesque tentacles of the Earth Warder burned and consumed everything it touched from within the Maelstrom. Corruption eating away at him and others as they faced the Sha of Pride, a sin he was certainly guilty of for which others had to suffer. Time after time he narrowly escaped death as others paid the ultimate price. Their voices sang out in a cacophony of screams and ugly moans of desperation and agony demanding answers or shrieking âwhyâ. Having to kill former allies within Orgrimmar and then watching even more die as they invaded the Broken Shore only added to the weight. A month more of watching good men die or grow desperate enough to betray him had taken its toll. Images of horrid demons and abominations flashed before him as he opened his eyes, desperate to fight off the enemies.
âHelp!â one of the nurses exclaimed as a male attendant attempted to grab Alucieus, who was shouting angry threats and profanity at an invisible enemy, the attendant managed to grab his arm during a swing and did his best to restrain him with the nurse. âHeâs going to hurt himself!â the nurse exclaimed as they tried to tied down his splinted and bandaged arm to the bed railing. He swung wildly as he grunted, another two attendants and a doctor entered the room to try to restrain the man, with a guest in tow. An unhinged and wild look was in his eyes as the doctor administered medication. âAgain?â the doctor asked. âHeâs⊠heâs doing better from the fel-poisoning butâŠâ a response came.
The doctor sighed. âWe need to give him time and keep him sedated.â The makeshift hospital area in Windrunnerâs Sanctuary was created to treat a new threat that had not been overcome through healing magics. Bending the light, calling to nature, weaving mists and the elements had always been the preferred method of treatment, but now with the corrosive and corrupting effects of fel-poisoning, herbs and traditional medical treatment to systematically battle symptoms began to become a relevant method again. Medical instruments and medicines proved effective in this war. The nurse frowned, âHe seemed very pleasant earlierâŠâ
âIf we can keep him stable and the corruption passes without too much ill effect, his condition should be much more manageable with mending magic. For now all we can do is flush his system, keep a steady supply of blood, give him some pain medication and hope for the best. Itâs not like we can just amputate his torso. This is all up to him. Luckily he seems to have a lot of fight left in him.â
âMost of our other patients donât react this wayâŠâ the attendant pointed out. âIt might not be the poisoning. We canât say for sure.â the doctor replied with a grim expression. âI have a feeling it might be moreâŠâ he tapped his head, âSomething outside of my realm of practice. For now we treat who we can. How we can. Keep him restrained until he seems coherent enough.â The doctor looked to Kaevia with sympathetic eyes, âIâm sorry you had to see that, if I knew he wasnât feeling well I wouldnât have brought you here⊠like the nurse said, he was doing just fine earlier.â Alucieus seemed more calmed after a few long moments. His eyes stared ahead for the longest time before they glanced over to Kaevia. He then turned his head away. It hid the burns along the left side of his neck, up his cheek. His exposed chest was riddled with new burn scars along the front and left side of his torso, red blood stained the bandages on his right as if to outline a large laceration. Coupled with the existing scars he had, his body had become a canvas of abstract art, the wounds paint, the sword an art, and the painter was war.
Apologies couldnât have saved the fact that something had been wrong whether it had been the poisoning or anything that lingered further within his frame but Kaevia stood ever quiet in her own little bubble, staring on even after her fatherâs gaze drifted away. She had seen him physically wounded many times before and much throughout her childhood but none like this -- this was different and it wasnât the physical alterations of his newly burned flesh or the vibrancy of his blood but the way he defeated himself and drifted all attention away, a possible void formed far too big within his own heart to have said anything at all. It had to be internal.
âYou were missed.â Kaevia offered before really thinking any of it through and slowly she made for the seat beside his bed, âMother is well and Arden too. I only just sent their way yesterday evening which I can assume that they have received it by now. The last I was able to visit with them Arden was running around with a wooden sword.â there was a pause and she glanced between them to the railing of the bed he had rested upon. Perhaps it was more than fine for her to continue talking and to offer him company without the expectation of a response or full conversation. âRhistel started her lessons and I think she might have an affinity for Arcane. Oriana and Rowan are growing so quickly and are practically sitting up on their own now.â
And allow these people to help you. They will help you so long as you let them. I seen these types of things happen in the Hospital in Silvermoon city plenty of times but try not to despair, it will take time.â
A deep discontented sigh escaped his lips. He remained silent for a little bit longer but eventually looked over to his daughter who stayed at his side patiently. âItâs.. good to hear your mother and brother are doing well.â he spoke, seemingly more sane at the moment. He also seemed oddly calm after the previous outburst, and fatigued. âAnd itâs good to see you too, dove..â he continued. He didnât say much after, leaning his head back against his pillow. A lifetime of warfare was beginning to take its toll.
In his following silence, Kaevia simply brought herself to sit beside him and to rest her elbows along the side of the bed while her fingers intertwined with one another. She looked as if though she had been preparing to pray, âI will send for them to see you in the coming days but I want to ensure your health first.â She spoke against her hands and her eyes darted over him wondering how long he had been like this and how much did they suffer? Upon seeing Ijiro she had noticed his weight had declined since they first touched down upon the Broken Isles and now? -- Alucieus looked just as worse for wear if not worse.
âIâm sorry this happened to you and that help might have come too late. I was in a panic, Rethandus was the only person I knew of that could help us. He was worried for you, you know? For a man whose heart is still -- he is surprising.â she smiled over to him and faintly unsure on what to discuss that wasnât about to cause upset.
âHeâs⊠one of many decent men. Good or bad, theyâre out there fighting for the same reason. It only comes down to whoâs lucky enough to go home that week.â he responded.
âLuck has nothing to do with it, I think it is a matter of survival and knowing what you are doing. Those without much of a clue are less likely to survive. I know I wouldnât have survived much of Highmountain had it not been for that Demon Hunter.â Reaching over she gave her fatherâs hand a small pat, âI can leave you if you wish to rest. Perhaps come back to check on you in another few hours or tomorrow?â
He tried to reach and grab his daughterâs hand with his uninjured arm but realized again that he had been restrained. He let out a muffled sigh he attempted to hold back. âBe safe. Donât worry about me. Iâll be walking around soon enough⊠I think theyâve had enough of me here anyway.â He said with a small albeit forced smirk. Of course there was a knowing little smirk pinched along his daughterâs cheek and with a pat to his arm she rose, âFocus on feeling well, not about walking around.â there was a delivered kiss to his crown, âAnd for the love of Azeroth, listen to your caregivers, hmm?â There were two pats to his hand once more before she finally released and made her way to the exit.
The day held hope and many tears but the latter often waited for no company.
Nothing was plundered that she could see as the Priestess slowly stepped into the manor house in Eversong Woods. The one place she always considered to be safe had now been walls that contained a toppled mess, broken glass and upturned furniture.
It was early morning as she slowly made her way through the collection of ransacked belongings, âIlldarien?â She quietly called out, her shoe touching down upon a pile of glass which crunched under her weight. There was no answer but for a long while she had stood at the doorway expecting to hear remnants of the thieves within. She had gone so long without hearing so much of a breath or uttered word before venturing forth.
By the time she pulled out of the foyer and into the lounging room she felt her stomach sink, she was thankful that Silvia and the children had not been present while this took place but near the fallen harp had been Illdarien resting against it and unresponsive. Swiftly Kaevia made her way over and crouched within the wreckage, hand to Illdarienâs forehead and then the other just under his jawline, âIlldarien.â She spoke once more. He had a pulse and breathed so peacefully.
âIâm sorry my friend.â she offered before trying to hoist him along the chaise that rested by the window, untouched. She placed a blanket over him and waited for the Huntsman and Grounds Keeper to come to. By the time he had woke it was nearly noon and Kaevia had for the most part been able to set much of the other pieces of furniture to their proper areas and had already been seated next to Illdarien with a glass of water in hand.
He looked dazed but immediately reached for the glass and took two long hauls from the water within before he drained the glass completely dry, âEasy friend. Do not try to rush yourself, rest and then we can talk.â
An amused laugh left him and lowly, âI donât know who you pissed off this time my Lady but they came full force.â
âWe have no enemies, Illdarien aside from the Legion.â Smiling softly Kaevia reached for the pitcher once more and poured another glass of water.
âThey came last night and I had no time to open the door and see to the grounds when I heard the noises. I counted about seven of them in total and they mentioned a chest.â reaching up he rubbed at his crown, âSoon after I was struck and I remember nothing else.â With a furrowed brow he looked to Kaevia as she held the second glass out to him.
Inhaling deeply, Kaevia rested her hand to Illdarienâs shoulder. Patience painted her face as she reassured him through two pats, âRest my friend. I am just glad you are okay.â With that she adjusted the pitcher nearby if it was something he continuously wished to have while he lounged and she moved to the exit of the room, âIâm sorry.â came his voice and it spurred Kaevia to turn on the spot and face him, âDo not be sorry Illdarien for the folly of others. All this is material belongings and can be replaced. I am thankful you keep your life this day.â And there it was, that gentle smile he couldnât argue with and he simply nodded instead.
Some pictures littered the hallway and the rugs were even overturned as the culprits seemed to leave nothing in its place. Upon entering the library she gazed around only to find that all 647 books had remained on the shelves but her desk had been upset, the drawers thrown askew and personal letters had been stocked in the unlit fireplace in pieces. Kaevia done several circles in the room to map the situation into memory before calmly walking to her bedroom. While it had been bare of much of her belongings, trinkets and wardrobe some things remained. Her attention anchored to the fireplace and the empty space above the mantle where the chest had once been. Instead it rested along the empty boudoir; open.
Quickly she made for the chest knowing full well that it would have been empty of its contents but a sliver of hope held. The moment Illdarien said chest, she knew it had been the grimoire. One of the most important books that the manor held; Enomeaâs grimoire. The book had laid dormant inside the chest for nearly 2 years aside from being read through that one time her ex-husband had required it.
With pursed lips, Kaeviaâs index finger touched down along the red velvet with the box and the void within -- no book. It took a long few moments before she let out a scream in frustration and took up the box to fling it across the room. Once more she was defeated and too late to something that mattered or could have tipped the scales of the battle. Not only had her home been invaded but she had also just been stolen from.
That one key item that might have brought Elenaris and the rest to finding Eleneyâa now rested anywhere but where it was safely kept under lock and key for so longâŠ
With her hands to the wooden texture of the desk and her head hung low, Illdarien came into the room and placed a shimmering piece of cloth before the Priestess and her gaze, âThey left this.â he calmly said and right away Kaevia took it up to inspect. It meant nothing but the texture of the fabric was silken, delicate and it bore the deep color of red with an intricate design of peppered gold. Right away she turned from her moment of desperation and hateful thoughts, âI will send someone to help with this and whatever repairs there needs to be made. Stay here, rest and be sure to welcome any and all that bear my sigil.â
âYes Maâam. And if the ruffians come back?â
âKill every last one of them that dare to step onto the property. Shoot on sight, do you hear me?â she turned towards the door, âGive me two hours and I will have those able hands to assist you with this rest but take what you need to rest up and find something to nourish yourself with.â
A second nod came as he bowed his head and took one more long haul of the water in hand before the Priestess disappeared.
With determination she stalked through the house and out the front door to leave the wreckage behind but it was straight for Silvermoon she had her sights set.
The grimoire was what had brought her out here to begin with, giving herself one full day that she could spare in assisting Elenaris. Beyond helping Juvess and extending further outreach and letters to the allianced houses and contributors of Oathguard, she was in QuelâThalas. Before going back there were a few things she had to insist upon: the hired help for Illdarienâs sake and to slaughter any more of those bastards that wanted to try her hand upon her own property and two letters.
Of courseâŠ
She wasnât going back empty handed either.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
TMI Tuesday: Do they have any current goals? Are they doing anything to help with the Legion invasion?
A fresh new face!Thank you for the ask!
Kaeva is certainly has a few current goals and the brunt of them certainly include the Oathguard and whatever ties are there and responsibilities that need to be share or divvied up with that but for her personally a lot of them are close to home. First and foremost her children will always be of importance above all else and her current goals there is to be there for them and provide, so much so now that she has been separated from her husband; she was always the type of woman who was a provider anyways. Aside from that simply getting back on track with her life and looking to be in a far more healthier mindset.
As for the Legion invasions, she is holder for Commander status at the moment in Oathguard and acting overseer to the coordination of the organization while the search continues for Commander Sunârael and his company in Highmountain. While the Blackguard ( elite force of the Oathguard ) see to their tasks there and in Stormhiem to assist with keeping demons at bay, the researchers of the Oathguard have taken to Suramar in not only looking to piece information together, history and help the Nightfallen.Â
