Roondreif slumbers restlessly, then, eyes blinking, she finds herself in the Emerald Dream once again, though her physical body lay elsewhere. Her mind drifts to the unfathomable tales coming from Northrend, she hadn't really taken a moment to let it sink in...
All of those souls
tormented in death as their flesh burned like the bark of our great tree
and now tortured in undeath, these atrocities are seared in my mind and now the mysteries of what suffering they might be enduring at this very moment gnaw at me.
I feel sick
this hatred I feel for the Banshee bitch burns like acid in my gut and it doesn't stop
I wish I could talk to her, I know she understands what this feels like
Are you there?
somehow I sense you
can you hear me?
Only the wild sounds of nature fill the moment in response
How do you go on? With what she did to all of our brothers and sisters? To our home? To the very essence of everything us Druids hold dear?
I would give anything to go back to Teldrassil, to run through the forests, to feel the grass on my feet, to skim my hands across the surface of waters outside the temple gardens, and feel the World Tree breathe just one more time...
I can’t determine what my spirit longs for more - to have Teldrassil back, or to see Sylvanas crying out in sheer terror as she endures the same pain she inflicted upon our people.
Perhaps we shall have both.
Their souls are stuck in some horrible prison, and there is nothing I can do to save them - is there? Is it accessible through the Dream? Perhaps you have skills and knowledge I do not, I’ve searched for this place where they she sent them but I can’t find it.
I’ve...I’ve tried to die...over and over, in the hopes of reaching them...but to no avail.
Life and death are cruel...that I should live when they do not. I hope you have an idea of how we can save them - indeed, it is the only thing I truly, truly wish for. Should I never return home, nor exact vengeance on the Banshee queen, as long as our people are freed I wouldn’t ask Elune or the Ancients or anyone for anything ever again!
But for now all these questions assault my mind.
We will go to the shadowlands. Justice will be done.
There is a faint rustling in nearby brush, the scent of some creature detectable only by your pet - a saber reveals itself, sensing it is safe to unstealth in your companion's presence. The cat places a scroll on the ground and signals to your pet, then fades into the foliage
Dearest Arrowsong,
I don’t know who else to tell, you are the best tracker I know and a true friend. I awoke this morning just inside the doors of Karazhan. Feeling cold stone on my skin, the scent of dust and decay and arcane energy prickled my nose. I have no idea how I got there. I don’t even know how I got to the Eastern Kingdoms…
Last I remembered I was in Valsharah, how long had it been?
Days, maybe?
That was my best guess…
I felt weak, not for lack of food, lifetimes spent in the Dream changes one’s metabolism...
No no this is how it feels when my kind are starved too long of the night sky, without nature’s renewal.
I hadn’t been outside in days, at least. And I hadn’t dreamed, something had rendered me unconscious.
Though I was curious, baffled really, I was unarmed - I hadn’t felt the light of the moon and stars, or even the sun, in too long, I’d be useless in a fight. So I made for the entrance of Karazhan and when I got outside, there were Horde waiting - those vile blood elves and goblins the Order encounters often in battle, but I was fortunate, they must’ve been waiting out there a long time, they hadn’t noticed I was there yet - so immediately, though it would take all my strength, shifted and flew as high as I could.
And then I flew, as fast and as far as I could,
past fog covered swamp lands,
ancient troll ruins engulfed in jungle,
then finally
small villages and farms
humans! Stormwind banners!
The sea was on my left. I knew Stormwind couldn’t be far, but, I was fading fast.
I don’t know this continent well enough, and now there was no cover, just fields of crops.
I had to be smart, I thought of you and how you might act
I spotted a small, dark crevice and I dove.
I assumed it would be just a hovel, but it is a winding, expanse of catacombs and cobweb lined chambers. I write you this message with materials I found in an alchemists laboratory. I felt strangely comforted by the familiar tools, but these are potions of undeath, or fel, maybe?
I don’t use these reagents - and I don’t know where I am - there are spectres and wraiths and so, so many bodies, and so tired..,
I am so very tired, I must rest …
I had to tell you, before I -- maybe this is what happened before -- forget or drift off, I pray...
the rest is illegible, then the rest of the page is just covered in spilled ink
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