Spoilers for the book ahead, but there are two things I have seen posted from time to time around here that I would like to clear up.
- The Night Warrior is not affecting the elements.
In Shadows Rising the Earthen Ring Shamans and the Moonglade Druids and Night Elf Priestesses have sensed a severe disturbance in the spirit realm:
“Yukha,” Thrall said. This was no mere messenger. He recognized the shaman at once. They had served together against the Legion, and anything that might drive Yukha from his post in the Maelstrom was dire indeed.
“Throm-ka, old friend, what brings you to Orgrimmar?” They clapped hands on each other’s shoulders, and Yukha chewed his cheek for a moment before drawing a deep, sorrowful breath.
“The spirits, Thrall, they are in disarray. Where once we communed peacefully with the ancestors, we now find them angry and vengeful. They lash out. They deny us their wisdom. My friend…something is terribly wrong.”
“I think the young queen will find his presence less revolting than mine or yours,” Thrall said, half teasing.
“Why?” Zekhan’s mouth had gone bone dry. “Why can’t you go? I’m… I’m nobody.”
“Saurfang didn’t think so,” Thrall replied. “I don’t think so, either. There are things I must do, places I must go. Yukha brought dire news from the Earthen Ring, and while you take your place among the Zandalari, I will be taking my own journey. The council has decided that some of us must join Yukha in Nordrassil, to better understand the unrest in the spirit realm. There I…well. It is best simply to go and not to hope.”
“I would not have come at all but that the spirit realm is fractured and our shaman cannot find a cause; that is too dire to ignore,” Thrall said, reiterating an argument he had made before the council when justifying this very journey to Nordrassil.
On the other side of the lake another hill rose, this one crowned with three silver tents, the poles intricately carved with leaves and painted moons. Thick blankets and furs were spread before the tents, along with a low, cushioned bench, the arms carved into owls. Seated beneath the bench, a night elf girl plucked dolefully at a lute.
Thrall hardly noticed the somber music, gripped instead by the two regal figures seated on the owl bench. As they neared, one of the figures stood, observing them but refusing to bow or give any respectful sign of recognition. Archdruid Malfurion Stormrage made an imposing impression, tall and strong as timeworn timbers, the antlers of a stag growing from his head, feathers sprouting from his arms, and an emerald beard longer and finer than Yukha’s hanging from his chin.
And where Malfurion embodied the forest and its creatures, his wife, Tyrande Whisperwind, was a sublime manifestation of Elune, the goddess of the moon. Her white enameled armor chased with silver might have been woven from starlight itself. Two even turquoise braids framed her face, the clean loveliness of her garb and hair making the blackened pits of her eyes all the more unsettling.
Malfurion and Tyrande were not alone, and Thrall was surprised to find both Maiev Shadowsong and Shandris Feathermoon joined them.
“As promised.” Yukha also demonstrated his respect for the kaldorei leadership. “Thrall, son of Durotan, high chieftain of the tauren, Baine Bloodhoof, and Calia Menethil, princess of Lordaeron and councilor of the Horde Forsaken. They have come to discuss the disturbances noted by the shaman of the Earthen Ring and the Moonglade druids.”
Tyrande merely tapped the musician on the shoulder. The girl strummed one last time and then grew still. The insect nightsong of the glade began, though it did little to assuage the awkward silence. Thrall kept his attention on Tyrande, as she had locked her eyes on him and did not look away.
“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting,” Thrall began, his voice unexpectedly ragged. He cleared his throat and pressed on. “Yukha and others feel a sinister interference in the spirit realm. Our dead are not passing on as they should, and they are heedless of the shaman attempting to guide them.”
Nothing. None of them so much as blinked, though it was hard to say with Maiev and Shandris wearing their helmets. He decided it was a safe bet.
“Yukha tells me your priestesses have made similar discoveries,” Thrall continued
That is to say, this was just the people of Azeroth finally noticing, though still not piecing together yet, that all the dead were going to the Maw.
This was not something happening at Nordrassil that drew Thrall to there, and it was the ancestral spirits not the elements that Thrall had gone to ask the Night Elves for help investigating:
- “I had at least hoped to better understand the disruption in the Spirit Realm, to remove one link from that infernal chain, but the night elves were not willing to lend us a single priestess or even discuss the nature of the disturbance.”
Squinting toward the storm clouds, Ji clucked his tongue with disappointment. “Then you learned nothing in Nordrassil.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
This was the most common misinformation from Shadows Rising I have seen tossed around, but there was one other, less common misconception that I wanted to clear up as well.
- The meeting at Nordrassil did not end violently.
The Horde leaders and their escort were assured their safely:
- Yukha barked with mirth. “Ha, Earthbinder, to go without me would indeed be your downfall. I have negotiated safe passage with the druids protecting the World Tree, I am to escort you and your chosen companions.”
Thrall flinched at the old title. It did not fit him anymore. “Well. I feel safer already.”
Yukha ignored the jab. “Tiala assured me that passage to the World Tree would remain safely open for us. I am to guide you there and then to Tyrande’s location. After that? After that, you’re on your own.”
And, despite the tension that arose during the meeting, the Horde leader and their escort were allowed to leave safely as well.
“I brought what you wanted, what is owed,” Thrall said, and at last he saw a spark of life in her eyes. “I bring you the sincere apology of the Horde. We are not a single voice now spoken through the mouth of a warchief, but a whole host of voices. We have formed a council, so that never again will one take power and abuse it as Sylvanas did. As…as Sylvanas used that power to slaughter your people.”
He could swear the moon above glowed brighter, as if the mere mention of the Banshee Queen’s name had ignited its anger.
“Baine was imprisoned for opposing Sylvanas,” Thrall reminded them. “Not all of the Horde stood with her that day.”
“And yet she spoke for your side, acted for your side,” Maiev shot back. “The warchief is the voice of the Horde, the hand of the Horde, but now you have scattered yourselves to a council, dispersing the blame, hiding behind cowardly revisions of a history that will not be forgotten!”
She punctuated her anger with a step toward him. Carefully, Shandris drew her back.
“I doubt you would like to be held accountable for every mistake and crime committed by the Alliance,” Shandris said in a soothing tone.
“Aye,” Baine spoke up. “What is justice to you now? Must Thunderbluff burn? Must Orgrimmar? Will the deaths of our innocents appease you? Do you think pain does not simply bring more pain?”
“High Overlord Saurfang engineered the siege with Sylvanas, though he had no intention of destroying the World Tree,” Thrall added. “His part cannot be forgotten, but he is now in the grave, put there by his own warchief.”
Calia Menethil glanced between the far taller, larger Baine and Thrall, then softly joined her voice to theirs. Quietly, but no less firm and sure.
“These disagreements are a distraction. Our divided sides only keep us from apprehending the one who gave the order.”
Maiev swiveled, watching for Tyrande and Malfurion’s reaction, but neither of them replied. In the lingering silence, Shandris ventured her opinion once more.
“If we agree to…to a temporary understanding,” she said, obviously picking her words with care, “then we do so not to exonerate the Horde entirely, it is but the strategy of a moment. I see no reason why this cannot be.”
“I see many reasons,” Maiev muttered.
Tyrande, it seemed, still did not care to speak.
The elf began plucking her lute again, but Tyrande slammed her hand down on the owl-shaped arm of the bench, demanding a return to silence.
Had the moon grown bigger in the sky? Was it somehow closer?
Threatening?
“It was not yet time.” Malfurion’s grave baritone filled the clearing. He leaned down toward his wife, placing a furred, clawed hand on her shoulder. “This was folly. Let them go.”
Tyrande uncrossed her legs and sat back on the bench, shaking off her husband’s hand with a tight grimace.
“Quickly,” Yukha muttered, trying to gather them. “We must go. This was a mistake; I should not have brought you here.”
Baine and Calia allowed Yukha to corral them back toward the path of glittering solid water. Thrall remained, only taking slow, careful steps, never showing Tyrande his back. For his trouble, Tyrande directed her final words to him and only him.
“You will find that justice less sweet than the sorry excuse for punishment you faced, and when this justice comes, there will be no armistice to save you.”
Thrall felt Yukha grab him by the arm and yank. But he did not agree with the shaman’s assessment; it was important and right that they had come. Thrall had thought he knew what Tyrande wanted, that what was owed was his remorse, but now he realized his error.
He easily shook off Yukha’s hand and pressed his fist to his chest to prove his sincerity.
“I will bring what is owed, then. I will not bring words or promises, I will bring you the head of Sylvanas Windrunner.”
The faintest trace of a smile appeared on Tyrande Whisperwind’s face.
“Do it, then, or never seek to speak with me again.”
Also of interest to note, the Night Elves do not treat all Orcs hostilely, as they are seen to still be on good terms with Earthen Ring Orcs such as Yukha.
One last final bit of information just as a bonus, as she is only brought up in that single line, but the Tauren Tiala Whitemane of the Guardians of Hyjal is mentioned as well, seemingly still guarding Nordrassil along with the other Druids stationed there, indicating that the Cenarion Circle Tauren are still living with the Night Elves there even after everything that has happened.
I would assume the Cenarion Circle Darkspear are also still welcome as well, but they were not mentioned as far as I remember.
