Loyalty, Sincerity, Honor

((OOC: This is for a campaign my partner is running for his guild. Since Aomaho and Sabanrab are involved, he gave me permission (because I requested it, not because I needed it necessarily) to participate. Figured I’d post here what I wrote up for it.))

Zrimgor had spent his time recently tending to his half-limbless half-elven brother-in-law Mal'valen - thankfully, that wasn't difficult, considering Mal'valen was also undead and therefore incapable of feeling pain. For that matter, he got around quite well for a guy with only one leg thanks to his levitation abilities, though writing had proven difficult since his right arm was the one that was ripped off and confiscated by those damned imps.

So, for the most part, Zrimgor acted as ambassador and scribe between visits with his ward, Zimina, sending messages this way and that as dictated by the de facto leader of Sun's Peak. It was certainly a position the old Death Knight, a former commanding officer on Argus, had never expected to be in, but it was what needed to be done. He even spent some time at Acherus to the northwest, discussing the Legion's return and hiring some of the other Ebon Knights as temporary guards for the coastal village.

Sitting at a desk that was almost comically too small, Zrimgor wrote as Mal'valen dictated:

"Your assistance is appreciated greatly, and we will see that you are compensated generously for services ren-..." The priest's voice trailed off, and his golden eyes grew wide.

Zrimgor paused his writing and turned to peer at his brother-in-law, his expression characteristically blank with only a faint hint of concern in his barely creased brow.

"Aomaho," Mal'valen murmured, biting his lip as he finally looked up at the Death Knight at his desk. "A Legion ship just arrived in Seradane... Aomaho's out there."

Zrimgor lowered the pen and closed his eyes momentarily. "... Sabanrab as well..." he rumbled.

Using his staff to pull himself up, Mal'valen stood and floated toward the door. "We need to help them... take your father and sister to Seradane. Of everyone here, you three are the most capable of getting there quickly and helping them," he stated.

"Mal--"

"That is an order," the half-elf interrupted. "I don't like using those words but I know they're the only ones you'll take seriously enough to do this." He paused and looked down at his remaining arm. "I can't do anything for Aomaho like this other than provide moral support. You and your father know actual military tactics and strategy, and Ambb can teleport the three of you easily. Please... please do this."

A quiet rumbling sigh emanated from the Death Knight's chest, and, reluctantly, he stood and headed toward Mal'valen. "I talk to Zimina first," he stated. "Then we leave... do not let her worry."

Dearest brother,

It has been quite some time since we've been together - almost forty years? What a pleasant surprise to find that you've your own village, and under such a fitting name. I've even heard talk that it may become a kingdom soon, and what a fine king you would be indeed.

I know that we've had our quarrels in the past, but I truly wish to make amends. I've changed, brother. I'm not the haughty brat I once was, and while I know you may not offer forgiveness, I ask only to be able to see you once more, to apologize for my wrongdoings.

You may not like to see me as I am, but physically blind as I may be, my transformation has helped open my eyes more than you could imagine. I hope that you can accept me as I am now - then again, you always had the bigger heart of the two of us.

I hope that your son and his wife are well. It is my wish to make amends with them also; I was rather terrible to them before, but I've learned and have seen the error of my ways.

I look forward to seeing you soon, my wonderful brother.

With love, Anaxandyr Sunspeaker

Aomaho looked up from the letter and knitted his brow slightly. "Do you recognize this name, Mal?" he inquired, though it was an unnecessary question. He could feel his partner through their link, sorting through his memories to find any trace of an "Anaxandyr."

Shaking his head, the priest let out a quiet sigh and rubbed at his eye. Both of them could feel his emotions welling up, but of course, thanks to Mal'valen's unliving state, no tears fell. "He's looking for my grandfather," he responded quietly. "But... I don't remember any mention of my father having an uncle..."

"Probably because of what was mentioned in this," Aomaho remarked, waving the letter a bit. "If he is in need of welcoming, then we shall do so, especially if he is disabled like that."

A small part of Mal'valen worried that Anaxandyr was contacting him - well, the person he thought was his brother - because of the financial benefits that might accompany him. He knew nothing of his great uncle and grandfather's relationship except what was written in the letter - in fact, he realized, the Elven side of his family was mostly shrouded in mystery. He knew only that he was named for his grandfather, and that was that.

With his ward and her partner, along with his sister from the other universe, living at Sun's Peak, there was little Zrimgor had to worry about as of late. While his partner, Sabanrab, worked with the clergy of Stormwind, the Knight spent most of his days helping his friends and family around Sun's Peak. The small, coastal village was quiet and serene, and though the shadow of Acherus loomed nearby, Zrimgor felt at ease - if anything happened to stir the Ebon Knights into a frenzy, he would be able to quell any potential conflict between them and his loved ones.

Inside, the parasite remained blissfully silent, but the old Draenei could feel from it a strange sort of anxiety; something was making him jittery. On rare occasions, it would cause his temper to flare, but only briefly, and, thankfully, he had a tendency to merely seethe quietly when angered. Still, his family knew him well enough to see that something was making him tense, and they did their utmost to cater to his needs, whether that was to provide additional care, or simply to leave him be for a while.

In spite of this though, Zrimgor was content, glad that the campaign on Draenor was over and to have time to relax as best as he was able. Though he had no desire to bother Mosur, Zaanthe and Hadeon and drag them away from whatever they had preoccupied themselves, he hoped that he would eventually see them once more.

Mal'valen sat in his office rewriting a sermon he'd been planning for the next temple service when a knock came on the door. Donning his mask, he stood and stepped past his desk to open it, immediately taking the mask off once more when he saw it was his younger brother.

"Veladrys, please come in," the priest offered, smiling warmly as he moved aside.

Sighing, the detective entered, practically dragging his feet as he approached his brother and held out an envelope for him. "You're being summoned to court as a key witness in the murder of Sister Superior Zimina," Veladrys explained in the most authoritative voice he could muster toward his older sibling.

Mal'valen's expression fell as he tentatively and delicately plucked the letter from the detective's hand. "... I see..." he responded quietly, opening the envelope to take a brief glance at its contents. "So... you have evidence then?"

Clenching his jaw for a moment, Veladrys reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic baggie containing a white queen from a chess set. "There's more. This is all I was able to bring to show you though."

If the priest weren't undead, he would have felt faint. Even as it was, he needed to sit down - after all that time, did they finally have him? "How did you get this?"

No. Stavros will find a way out of this one as well, Mal'valen thought.

"Special Agent Kyreal and I had a warrant. I managed to gather just enough evidence for it during my undercover work."

Mal'valen rested his elbows on his desk and held his head in his hands. "... and what of Khor... how is he?" His voice was muffled as he spoke into his palms.

With that, Veladrys turned away, not wanting his brother to see his pained expression. "He'll be all right. He's a tough kid," he responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "He let me live, so... there's that."

The two of them went silent, unsure of what to say or even what to make of the whole situation. It was painful for both of them, and for all of Veladrys' accomplishments in the investigation, somehow they each realized that it most likely wouldn't make a difference. Authority figures had steadily grown more corrupt through the years, and it wouldn't have shocked them if Stavros happened to have the judge herself on his side.

"We'll get through this," Mal'valen finally spoke, slowly dragging his hands down along his pale, rotting face. "And we will continue to protect Khor even if he turns against us. Stavros has him brainwashed to some degree, but... not entirely, it seems, if he didn't have you killed while you were searching the funeral home..." His expression grew dark for a moment. "Stavros may put a hit on you, or come after you himself."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," the detective remarked. "I need to get back to the station, lot of paperwork to do for this."

The priest stood and approached his brother once more, placing a hand on his chest. With a quiet murmur, he placed a protective spell on Veladrys, leaving a faintly glowing mark of the Divine on his uniform that faded soon after. "Be safe. Please."

I've spent a bit more time at Sun's Peak, but my visits have been brief. They're taking their sweet time in making a decision on the status of the village, and have more citizens now than I recall. Veladrys seems to be about ready to crown them both kings himself despite the fact that he doesn't even live there, though from my very short conversation with him, it seems his sentiments are uncontested amongst the villagers - they recognize that becoming a kingdom would offer additional benefits that they won't have remaining off the map entirely, but that it will in turn bring about more risks. They're both humble though, as they've always been.

What strikes me as odd is that I had thought Sun's Peak was well-established as a kingdom by this point in time. At least, that's what the history books taught me, and if there's one thing I research more than anything else, it's history. Returning simply to ask them about it though comes with a myriad of risks, and I fear the wrath of the dragons should I bend the laws of time and space for such a trivial matter.

And that is what fascinates and frightens me about this. I don't appear to have simply gone through time, but through space and dimensions as well. This matter with Garrosh? I don't recall it happening, and as I have quite clearly seen, I was alive at that time. The Pandaren? Well, they came as a bit of a shock to me. I'd never seen one in all my two hundred twenty-six years, and now it turns out that Rondmus - again, someone I'd never met previously - is in a relationship with one of them.

I don't know if it was my coming here that set these events in motion, or if this separate timeline has always existed and I just stumbled upon it rather than the one to which I had intended to traverse. What's truly a blessing though is the fact that the family and friends I have here are the same as always - well, that's not quite true. There are some key differences. Saranklei, for all his faults, makes a wonderful father, something I honestly never thought I'd see. It'd been almost a hundred fifty years since I'd seen mother so happy, and I attribute that to the fact that her partner is alive and well. Perhaps I may try to find a way to prolong his life, for both of their sakes. And to see him wield the Shadow as proficiently as the Light... I thought he would never dream of such a thing.

This has turned into a much longer entry than I had anticipated. What an exciting time to be here though. I suppose my next step is to try and convince the two of them that while their humility is admirable, it will be more beneficial to accept the crowns they rightfully deserve. Then again, picturing myself without my own title is, admittedly, an enticing prospect. Perhaps part of why I came here was to escape those responsibilities to some degree, but it isn't like I can't return to the very instant I left.