Post by shirafune on Jan 4, 2010 2:12:17 GMT -5
The thick sheaf of vellum was clenched tightly in hand as Shirafune made her way towards Shattrath. Head tucked down against the wind as the wyvern carried her over the peaks that divided the open grasslands of Nagrand and over the mountain strongholds of the ogres that lived just a stone's throw from the fortified walls of the Naaru city. It had been a while since she had been here, despite being so close by in Garadar, her convalescence having kept her too weak and tired to bother with venturing far from the loft-room that Ishbaneer's followers had generously lent to her and the Banekin.
And she certainly didn't remember writhing on the floor in the central chamber as her body attempted to shear itself apart with the conflicting, twisting energies that had been tangled out of alignment. Just the all-consuming, searing pain juxtaposed against the scattered memories of the days she'd been absent from the physical plane.
A quick walk to the wide, squat room where the Naaru leader held his counsel and the priestess secured passage to Quel'Danil. With Illidan Stormrage suppressed and the demonic infection routed from both Sunwell Plateau and the Black Temple, there was no need to maintain the permanent portals to the capital cities on Azeroth. However, the passage to Quel'Danil remained open as, by some strange arrangement between the Conclave of Silvermoon and Shattrath, the Shattered Sun maintained the security of the island. Silvermoon itself guarded the inside of the Plateau and the reclaimed Magister's Terrace, but the combined Draenei and Sin'dorei forces managed the patrols that kept the naga excursions in check and patrolled the end of the Dead Scar that ran to the very walls of the sanctum. With the sacrifice of Mu'ru, the Aldor decided they had a stock in the Sunwell's safe-keeping as well.
Pretentious of them, but if they were offering the man-power...
It was an unspoken fear, but all sides worried that with the threat of Arthas rearing his head in Northrend, that he might seek to use the restored Sunwell for his own ends again. Silvermoon could not handle a second visit from the Scourge, seeing as how the first one never really left, so the draenei presence was tolerated as a necessity.
Holding her breath as instructed, Shirafune stepped through the rift in the time-space continuum and sighed as her feet touched home soil again.
Instantly, the Sunwell's radiance soaked into her veins like a long-absent lover's touch, a visceral sweetness flushing through her as the cleansing energies permeated her body. To those not attuned to the holy or the arcane, Quel'Danil was simply very humid and unnaturally warm despite being so far north. To those who knew either or both, breathing the very air could leave you light-headed and tingly. It took time and discipline to acclimate to the Sunwell's presence, especially so close to it's heart.
A quick ride over the frigid North Sea planted her at Silvermoon's gates. A fact that she took a few seconds to meditate on as she walked past the colonnade of guards, through the first gatehouse and into the white marble lanes of the elven city. She turned to look at the gaping space behind her where, once, a towering statue of Kael'thas Sunstrider stood, peering down upon all who left and entered the city. Since his betrayal was revealed, the biggest statues had been torn down and the gold, gemstones and arcane crystals put to better use. However, at the internal gatehouses that separated the districts and Burroughs, the smaller ones remained and would do so forever. To look upon them was a stark reminder of their Prince's betrayal, his slaughter and selling of his own subjects to the Legion and Illidan. To see them was a reminder of how far the Sin'dorei fell, feeding on fel energies to sate the terrible thirst for arcane magic, consorting with demons and becoming their playthings to slake the hunger they'd been cleansed of.
Never again. Never again would they allow themselves to risk becoming the monstrosity Kael'thas had fashioned himself into before his demise.
A brisk stop at the Wayfarer's Rest to freshen up and change clothes before she made her way to Murder Row. Pyron had possessed the foresight to send her a replica of the enchanted silver key needed to open the innocuous door that lead to the Darksun estate. Locking the heavy door behind her, she traveled up the narrow pathway with growing dread. She'd purchased a nicer dress with the money (read: obscene small fortune) that'd been placed into her bank as "overdue allowance". A simple silk gown of dark blue with a modest cut, not the...interesting dress sent to her from Kevasha. The priestess was simply not used to having her breasts half exposed like that! The troll probably thought it a helpful gift for helping the young blood elf "catch a fellow's eye" as she put it. And for this, she wanted to be as comfortable as possible so she could focus, even if it was subpar for even the servants of the house.
A bow to the Spellbreaker guard at the door, announcing that she had an appointment with Lady Alexandira Darksun and she slipped through the security screen behind the door as was instantly ushered by manservant into the familiar tea room, where a service was already set out, the faint smell of the hearty Earthroot tea from Mulgore billowing from the spout of the teapot. Sitting down upon the crushed velvet cushions, Shirafune was only marginally less nervous than the first time she was here.
The legal documents declaring her child and blood of the Darksun were laid on the table between the only two chairs. The black box that came with them in a pocket inside the satchel that she neatly tucked under her seat. She'd read the adoption papers over and over again since she'd received them, she could recite them by heart now. But at the bottom of the first page, her eyes always fell to the empty lines there, where her own signature, that of her adoptive parents, and two witnesses not attached to the family would go before being arcanely sealed by a Magistrix and sent to Sunfury Spire to be filed for legal verification.
Her palms sweat and she resisted to urge to wipe them on the silk as she waited.
And she certainly didn't remember writhing on the floor in the central chamber as her body attempted to shear itself apart with the conflicting, twisting energies that had been tangled out of alignment. Just the all-consuming, searing pain juxtaposed against the scattered memories of the days she'd been absent from the physical plane.
A quick walk to the wide, squat room where the Naaru leader held his counsel and the priestess secured passage to Quel'Danil. With Illidan Stormrage suppressed and the demonic infection routed from both Sunwell Plateau and the Black Temple, there was no need to maintain the permanent portals to the capital cities on Azeroth. However, the passage to Quel'Danil remained open as, by some strange arrangement between the Conclave of Silvermoon and Shattrath, the Shattered Sun maintained the security of the island. Silvermoon itself guarded the inside of the Plateau and the reclaimed Magister's Terrace, but the combined Draenei and Sin'dorei forces managed the patrols that kept the naga excursions in check and patrolled the end of the Dead Scar that ran to the very walls of the sanctum. With the sacrifice of Mu'ru, the Aldor decided they had a stock in the Sunwell's safe-keeping as well.
Pretentious of them, but if they were offering the man-power...
It was an unspoken fear, but all sides worried that with the threat of Arthas rearing his head in Northrend, that he might seek to use the restored Sunwell for his own ends again. Silvermoon could not handle a second visit from the Scourge, seeing as how the first one never really left, so the draenei presence was tolerated as a necessity.
Holding her breath as instructed, Shirafune stepped through the rift in the time-space continuum and sighed as her feet touched home soil again.
Instantly, the Sunwell's radiance soaked into her veins like a long-absent lover's touch, a visceral sweetness flushing through her as the cleansing energies permeated her body. To those not attuned to the holy or the arcane, Quel'Danil was simply very humid and unnaturally warm despite being so far north. To those who knew either or both, breathing the very air could leave you light-headed and tingly. It took time and discipline to acclimate to the Sunwell's presence, especially so close to it's heart.
A quick ride over the frigid North Sea planted her at Silvermoon's gates. A fact that she took a few seconds to meditate on as she walked past the colonnade of guards, through the first gatehouse and into the white marble lanes of the elven city. She turned to look at the gaping space behind her where, once, a towering statue of Kael'thas Sunstrider stood, peering down upon all who left and entered the city. Since his betrayal was revealed, the biggest statues had been torn down and the gold, gemstones and arcane crystals put to better use. However, at the internal gatehouses that separated the districts and Burroughs, the smaller ones remained and would do so forever. To look upon them was a stark reminder of their Prince's betrayal, his slaughter and selling of his own subjects to the Legion and Illidan. To see them was a reminder of how far the Sin'dorei fell, feeding on fel energies to sate the terrible thirst for arcane magic, consorting with demons and becoming their playthings to slake the hunger they'd been cleansed of.
Never again. Never again would they allow themselves to risk becoming the monstrosity Kael'thas had fashioned himself into before his demise.
A brisk stop at the Wayfarer's Rest to freshen up and change clothes before she made her way to Murder Row. Pyron had possessed the foresight to send her a replica of the enchanted silver key needed to open the innocuous door that lead to the Darksun estate. Locking the heavy door behind her, she traveled up the narrow pathway with growing dread. She'd purchased a nicer dress with the money (read: obscene small fortune) that'd been placed into her bank as "overdue allowance". A simple silk gown of dark blue with a modest cut, not the...interesting dress sent to her from Kevasha. The priestess was simply not used to having her breasts half exposed like that! The troll probably thought it a helpful gift for helping the young blood elf "catch a fellow's eye" as she put it. And for this, she wanted to be as comfortable as possible so she could focus, even if it was subpar for even the servants of the house.
A bow to the Spellbreaker guard at the door, announcing that she had an appointment with Lady Alexandira Darksun and she slipped through the security screen behind the door as was instantly ushered by manservant into the familiar tea room, where a service was already set out, the faint smell of the hearty Earthroot tea from Mulgore billowing from the spout of the teapot. Sitting down upon the crushed velvet cushions, Shirafune was only marginally less nervous than the first time she was here.
The legal documents declaring her child and blood of the Darksun were laid on the table between the only two chairs. The black box that came with them in a pocket inside the satchel that she neatly tucked under her seat. She'd read the adoption papers over and over again since she'd received them, she could recite them by heart now. But at the bottom of the first page, her eyes always fell to the empty lines there, where her own signature, that of her adoptive parents, and two witnesses not attached to the family would go before being arcanely sealed by a Magistrix and sent to Sunfury Spire to be filed for legal verification.
Her palms sweat and she resisted to urge to wipe them on the silk as she waited.
