Time and Time Again ((IC Closed))

Lore World's End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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A shadowy form flitted about in the Sanctum. The Watcher turned her silver eyes towards the retreating shadows. Her grip tightened on her sword, her feet sliding slowly into a fighting position. She barely had time to move her hand before the shadows enveloped her, and she fell to the ground.

Shan’do Nightbloom looked up as the Sentinel aproached. Her face looked no different than it normally did, but it was her eyes he noticed. Every time he spoke with her, her eyes were just as stoic and protected as the rest of her emotions were. This time, however, there was a sense of fear. She was next in line to become the Watcher in the Sanctum, a great duty. The emotion in her eyes couldn’t be from the fear of becoming the next Watcher, it had to be something else.

Cyrean Nightbloom folded the letters he had just finished writing before their ink was dry. He mailed them out, his mind racing for the first time in decades, trying to plan how to get these different people together. With their different backgrounds and different personalities, there was bound to be some trouble. He knew they could get this task done, but with the Elun’dris being stolen, they had to find a way.

After all of the letters were mailed, he went to his room and began to meditate. Flashes of memories of his time as a child, and all of the events leading up to this tragedy. After failing to meditate, he went straight to bed, hoping that everyone would gather on that lake shore nearby before it was too late.

Veryssia Ravenshadow opened her eyes slowly, blinking back tears as the ray of sun tried to pierce her eyes. She slowly sat up and closed her eyes again, absorbing the sounds of Teldrassil. For once, she was glad she had returned to her home. She hadn’t been here since her parents died. Her heart still ached to think of them, but rather than letting it dig its way deeper, she shook herself and began to get ready for the day.

After getting dressed and throwing her hair into a loose ponytail, she slowly walked outside. Varyssia pat her black nightsaber between the ears. It had no saddle and nothing tethered it near the inn, but there it stayed. She walked along the trail through the trees, arriving at the lake in order to attend her session with Shan’do Nightbloom.

She came to Teldrassil on his request, which seemed very urgent by the looks of his letter. Lost in thought, she was startled when he spoke to her. “You’ve arrived.”

He simply stated this, without his usual greeting. Something must be bad if he doesn’t greet me as he used to, thought Varyssia as she looked into his eyes.

As she opened her mouth to respond with some kind of affirmation, he cut her off.

“The Elun’dris is gone.”

Without another word he turned and gazed at the waters. She knew he was thinking heavily about what he told her. Her mind reeled at the fact that the Elun’dris was gone. It was heavily protected. Not only by Sentinels and the many who guard the Sanctum, but by the Watcher. Always a well trained and very lethal figure. No one knows who the Watcher currently is, nor who was next in line. The Watcher’s were forbidden to talk about anything related to their time as a Watcher, no matter how small.

As her mind raced, her mouth formed the question she was dying to get an answer to. “How?”

Shan’do Nightbloom did not turn, or make any movement that he heard. After a moment, he responded. His words were so quiet she barely heard them.

“I don’t know.”

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Liara Leafmane glared impotently at the fallen Sin’dorei. The unliving monster that made her life hell.

“And you’re certain this, Elun’dris, will have the Kaldorei rushing to face me?” Came the voice of her hated master, as he kicked away the corpse of his latest blood ‘donor’.

“Absolutely, Lord Dragonson.” She said. While her words implied submission, her tone was steel. “A sacred artifact such as the Eye of Elune will have every Kaldorei from Feralas to Hyjal marching to take your head.”

Theran Dragonson grinned wickedly. “Ahhh, Liara… thank you oh so much… but, you’re lying again.” He said with a threatening undertone.

Liara felt fear dominate her anew. “T-they will try to conceal its disappearance… but there will be search parties, and as more and more disappear–”

“Then I’ll get the bloodbath I seek, as they are forced to do away with the veil of secrecy in the name of reclamation.” He completes for her. “There, see? That’s not so hard, hm?” He chuckled.

She trembled as his hungry, crimson eyes fell directly upon her. “Now then, my precious pet… go fetch my prize.”

She wanted oh so desperately to refuse. To tell him exactly where he can put his bloated ego. To stay true to her people.

The flesh was strong.

But the soul had broken long ago.

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Zaramai Duskblade sat at the table in her study in Silvermoon City, looking over some parchments on new magic studies her colleagues had been working on during the Legion invasion. With all the fighting and work she’d been called to do as one of the ‘Archmages’ during the fight she’d lost track of the new spells and tricks that had been crafted in the last few months. Some were less exciting than others - did they really need a new way to polymorph your foe into a different colored turtle or rabbit? - but it was very relaxing to focus on something other than politics and war.

A knock on the door drew the raven-haired female’s attention from her scrolls as she raised an eyebrow. Was there any business she hadn’t attended to prior to retiring for the day? The lithe form got up out of her chair and walked to the door, opening it slowly to reveal a mail courier. He tipped his hat and handed the mage a letter, leaving his hand there for just a bit too long, asking for his tip. Zaramai rolled her eyes and slipped the man a few silver coins before closing the door.

She opened the letter, reading it in silence as her eyes widened. It was a call for aid from a ‘Nightbloom’ in Teldrassil. How this person had known to contact her, specifically, was… wait.

At the bottom of the parchment was a different handwriting that the mage recognized. ‘The Magisters of Silvermoon have chosen you, Zaramai Duskblade, as our emissary to the Night Elves for this task. Your former role of ambassador makes you uniquely suited for this assignment.’ Figures, they would call on her now that she finally had some down time.

The mage gathered up her belongings to prepare for the mission: enchanted scrolls, spell materials, a tome or two. With an enchanted sword sheathed on her hip and staff in hand she set the looking-too-small-to-fit-everything pouch on her belt and ripped open a portal through the fabric off time and space before venturing through.

The portal opened up at the specified location a few feet away from a pair of Kal’dorei. Being in this location, especially after arriving via portal, made Zaramai uneasy. This place was where the Divine Bell had been stolen using similar means, and the mage wouldn’t be able to predict the local people’s reaction. Still, she had been requested and they should expect her to come this way!

“Silvermoon has received your call for assistance,” she said in darnassian tongue, “and I have come to lend the Magisters’ aid. I am Archmage Zaramai Duskblade.”

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A breeze fluttered the grass and loose leaves up the path from the shoreline. A swift silhouette of what appeared to be a white feathered owl-cat disappeared behind a thick tree trunk. From the other side of the trunk stepped a night elf. The surrounding flora seemed to reach for and cloak the night elf. She stepped from behind the tree and onto the path down toward the shoreline. Her head was cloaked with a hood of thin woven branches and small leaves while vibrant green robes, fashioned after the manner of elder druids, draped her figure. To those who had known her, her usually kind face and soft demeanor was hardened with concern. Her silver star-like eyes considered Shan’do Nightbloom from behind.

“The Sentinels tasked to guard the Sanctum share in some blame, but this Failure lies squarely upon the Watcher.” She strolled passed the Sin’dorei mage who’d recently appeared and offered her a nod. That her manner of appearance via a magical portal left much to be desired would remain unsaid, by her. “I deem it necessary that we break with tradition, considering circumstances, and have this Watcher reveal themselves to us to be questioned.”

The druid paused a few steps from Nightbloom’s flank. She gave the other younger druid a full gaze before coolly introducing herself. “Nanaai Coolbreeze.” She turned her gaze over the same waters as Nightbloom and posed a question. “What are your thoughts, Shan’do?”

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The grass around the grove seemed to shiver, making way for a large, feline form. The nightsaber was large, with dark purple fur, amber eyes, and a druidic mark on its neck. Aanka knew something was happening. She had felt a wrongness from the spot - an emptiness.
The nightsaber began shifting, growing into the shape of a tall, thin Kaldorei. Her hair was a purple with white streaks of age, and her eyes were a golden amber. Her robes, white in color, stroked the ground as she walked towards Varyssia and Nightbloom. They were both druids of the Cenarion Circle, and Nightbloom had chosen to instruct Varyssia, one of their newest members.
“The Elun’dris, Nightbloom?” Aanka suddenly spoke. Her voice was soft but held authority and arrogance. “The ritual eye was well guarded by you and the sentinels… I expected better.”
Aanka already saw that another Night Elf had overheard Varyssia and Nightbloom’s conversation - also a druid. In one corner were two Blood Elves, much to Aanka’s disgust. She could see the sentinels eyeing them, waiting for them to make a wrong move.

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Haraak paused in the shade of a tree to check the letter again. It wasn’t meant for him. The name on the address was Veltris Whitefallow; he had only been passing through Stormwind and stopped by briefly to visit the Kaldorei mage at what turned out to be an “opportune time.” She had received the call for aid but was, by her own report, really really busy with a number of really important things, and it was so very fortuitous for Haraak to appear because she had just a small favor to ask.

A day and a night later, the Draenei was under a tree in Teldrassil. Once he had reassured himself that he was still on the right road he stowed the letter in a coat pocket and hefted his travel bag, hesitating a moment to stretch his shoulders, before continuing down the path.

It wasn’t much longer until he arrived on the lake shore. A fair few Elves had already gathered and seemed to be discussing the matter. He strode over to the congregation, broad hooves biting into the grass.

“Hello!” he called, raising a meaty hand in greeting. “You are Mr Nightbloom, yes? I have been told that you are having some difficulties.”

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– Ryu Doseki –

Ryu had been watching over the group as each of them arrived. Like themselves he too received a notice to appear. Ryu was tracking a stray demon with his Garn when one of the Sentinels came out of the sky carrying a note in its talons. Ryu halted his hunt and retrieved the parchment from the small owl’s talons.

The small Kaldorei read over the missive and quickly burned it to remove any evidence. Looking up to the Owl no words needed to be spoken as the choice was made. Ryu may have been born a dwarf but in his heart and in his training he was a member of the Sentinels; a Kaldorei organization. He was being called home and home he would go. With a growl Ryu call down his Gryphon Sharak from the sky and mounted up.

Now he was poised over the group in one of the trees as several other elves arrived on the scene. It was not at all surprising to see several druids. The mage from Silvermoon was a bit of a surprise however as was the Draenei. This was quite the interesting bunch Ryu thought to himself as he watched them gather below him.

Looking down where he was posted one of his pets appeared out of the shadows. It was his lynx Ravage. The large orange cat growled as it approached the group with Yugo, Ryu’s Garn swiftly in tow. Ravage was but a kitten when Ryu found him in Silverpine forest just outside Slivermoon city. That was years ago however, as the large cat was now several hundred pounds of muscle, claws, and teeth. Yugo was even larger being the size of a very large bear with fur as black as the darkest of Elune’s night sky. A complete contrast to the lighter colors that surrounded him.

Ryu finally dismounted his tree and joined his two companions on the ground. He was dressed in brown leather with red accents. a hood covered his head but still revealed his primal eyes underneath. They almost seemed to glow with what little light was captured under the hood. His sandy beard flowed out of the darkness and down his chest; as it weaved back and forth with each step the dwarf took and the gentile breeze. He said nothing as he approached but instead gave each of his pets a pat on their flanks.

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Zaramai looked over the other arrivals as they began to trickle in. Mostly druidic elves, but all Alliance. The Sin’dorei felt quite outnumbered, but kept it hidden. The other elves all seemed to know each other - no surprise - while the draenei seemed to be requested assistance, like herself. The mage rolled her eyes at the dwarf and his pets when he made his ‘grand entrance’ (at least she imagined that was his intention). Her annoyance grew as she watched the growling lynx stalk towards the group. The dwarf had the nerve to venture into Sin’dorei lands and steal the native wildlife from her home!

Zaramai rolled her shoulders slightly, fidgeting as she turned her attention to their ‘host’ once again. “So is this the strike force you’ve summoned to deal with this issue?” she asked aloud. “Are all accounted for, or should we expect more?”

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A final Night Elf entered, her steps measured with military precision, a curved sword sheathed at her hip, and a buckler on her arm attached to a vambrace.

“I believe I shall be the last. Liara Leafmane, reporting.” The Night Elf declared, scanning the crowd. “I hesitate to question the wisdom of my elders, but shouldn’t a matter like this be kept an internal affair?” She asks. The Kaldorei’s hair was messy, but clean, as if she’d never bothered to style it after bathing. Her skin was also lavender-hued and smooth, with the exception of calloused hands, and a few well-healed scars. Her attire was the distinctive, scanty armor of a Sentinel, though the color had worn from it. She had a bow slung from her shoulder, and a quiver on her hip.

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