Left on Adrya’s pillow in the master bedroom of the Emerald Palace was a wooden box and letter bearing Alorinis’ signature.
My immortal flame,
Just to say your name fills my heart with fire, igniting passion and love all anew with the mere whisper of you. How I cherish it when we are away, and how I adore it when you are there for me to whisper it between kisses.
Merry Winter Veil, my love. I know I have already said this to you this morning, but once more can not harm. I feel I have little else I can say, for what has gone unsaid between us? What could ever remain that needs be shared, for is our life not already taken together in all things? I can not find words left needed to be said, so I can only then say the words that I want to say.
I love you, in everything that we are, in everything that we are not, and in everything that remains.
Alorinis
Within the carved box sat a jeweled dagger, literally. Sprouting from the white bone hilt was a curved blade, the length of Adrya’s forearm, formed from a diamond.
Devemos lembrar que Wallon nunca especificou idades limites, ele acreditava num desenvolvimento dialético e interacionista, mas podemos estipular um tempo comum as crianças - o que normalmente ocorre em faixa etária. O Estágio Impulsivo-Emocional vai do nascimento até aproximadamente o primeiro ano de vida, é um estágio predominantemente afetivo, onde a criança está imersa no mundo e não consegue se distinguir dele.
Nesse estágio a criança não possui coordenação motora muito bem desenvolvida, os movimentos são bem desorientados. Entretanto, logo o ambiente facilita para que a mesma desenvolva suas habilidades funcionais, passando da desordem gestual às emoções diferenciadas.
Essa criança tem até um ano de vida, ela vai desenvolver os sistemas biológicos dele e como se relacionar.
A black, stone box was left on the master bed of the Emerald Palace, on Adrya’s pillow. Inside of it was a portrait of Alorinis and Adrya embracing with a kiss, a bracelet, and a letter.
Hello my matron of enamoration, my queen of ash, my beautiful eternal wife,
I miss you so much. Every day away makes war dreadful because it means a night I do not sleep with you in reach. I know it can not be easy for you either, though you are much stronger than I. I will be home soon, and for longer this time, as my work returns me to Quel’Thalas. If I could write until I had said everything I wish to say to you I fear even we would run out of time. Suffice it to say that every moment I think of you and miss you, and cherish returning home to see you soon.
Until I am home I hope you will wear this bracelet when you sleep, if not more. It looks simple, I know, but the enchantment within is what matters. Whenever you wear it my presence will be there, my arms wrapping around you and my chest pressed to you, holding you in my embrace like we have done for so many nights.
A small bag was brought to Adrya in the talons of an eagle.
My Beautiful Inferno
Being away from you for even this short time has been taxing on my very soul, to be without your warmth every moment is to like being trapped in Ahune’s domain. I can not wait until I am in your embrace again, my love. I hope this gift is something of a small reminder that I am always with you, even if it is not in my arms. I shall see you again when the Burning Legion is expelled from this world.
I love you,
Alorinis
Spontaneously the plant inside the necklace will burst into flame and turn to ash, to reveal a new plant growing from the ashes.
Can’t get the story to work well, so decided to do a journal instead! Don’t write enough of these as is. So, yeah. @a-disgruntled-dragon and @matriarchoffire the camp is over! Huzzah!
The crystal top of the Dalaran table clacked against the quill as Alorinis wrote in his journal, scribbling his notes as he allowed the air to dry his freshly showered hair.
It has been too long since I was able to use a proper shower. I pray my soldiers find the same comfort soon enough when they arrive at their new stations.
Last evening we broke the ridge and over ran the Burning Legion’s camp; the multipoint tactic that Adrya suggested worked perfectly. Ashwing and Flameriders rode overhead to strike out the larger artillery and focus on the summoning portals used by the enemy. When those had been destroyed the remainder of the forces attacked the camp proper.
The Sun’s Hammer General lead the vanguard charge beside me, her courage was astounding as always; I will always regret that she rejected my offer to serve as the Warden-Supreme, but such are things.
Eleneill and Adrya lead in the flank forces of the battle. Eleneill drawing right into the enemy with the vanguard, her forces striking forcefully against them with surge attacks. Adrya held her forces at the edge as they struck from afar, magically aided projectiles lambasting against the demons before some of them could even reach the rest of us.
The Dreadlord who had been at the command of the camp dropped into the battle from on high, landing directly over Eleneill. Before I could even turn around to rush to her aid, Adrya was there. Fel fire slicing against the demon like the strikes of a whip. Between the three of us, when I managed to get to the area, it was a hard fought battle but we took it by the head eventually.
Without their reinforcements they were a much more manageable threat for the soldiers, though to underestimate their strength would have been our undoing wholly. We lost many good fights in the battle, but I am proud to say none of my soldiers fell without taking many demons with them.
It will take me time to write the letters of condolence to the families of the lost, but they will be finished before the ships leave for home.
The forces have divided now. Alongside other forces and the island natives I have broken the army into five groups, each one taking up residence at some part of the island to help combat the remaining forces in collusion with the Burning Legion. Myself and the remaining members of the Congress have retired to Dalaran, where we will oversee the effort and engage to battles.
The Kirin Tor have been rather welcoming of all forces if my experience has been anything similar to the others. Their meetings to discuss news and plans of action are open to the other leaders, giving us a chance to understand the information as best we can. Tensions between the Horde and Alliance are still tense within the city, it still holding to its archaic divided sections of the city that only allow one faction or other, but the guards have done well to keep aggression to a minimal; outside of the sewers anyways.
The openness leaves me optimistic as to what the outcome of this war could truly be, though there is still much to be seen given our new Warchief.
A fraction of the forces and leaders of the Congress return for home now that I have given them leave to go where they see themselves acting best for the effort. Fong, Verstallus, Adrya, Xeril, Malistor, Alunar, Telium, Alathir, Ervyn, and Sindalon all return for home.
In truth I was surprised that Sialon elected to remain behind, she is not a woman of combat and is still new to her position as Speaker of the Blessed Plains, but it is warming to see such confidence in her.
I will miss the presence of Adrya and Alathir the most of all, but Alathir has grown old in his days and knows he is better suited to see to Mount Belore from home and aid us from there, while Adrya has grown distant from war and wishes to be home with our children. I can not say I am sad to know my children will be beside at least one of their parents while Eleneill and I are at war, but still no one ever says farewell to their wife without sorrow in their heart for it. The returning members of the Congress will have to handle the affairs of The Grove with their regression home, but I have faith in them to steer the course properly. As well if anyone proves to fail my faith, Adrya will be there to act as my voice in matters, and she will send me word if else fails and I need return temporarily to handle such matters.
The discussions of home and the journey did not effect me by large until we crested the hill of the Burning Legion’s camp and first saw Suramar. I had not yet been able to see it with my own eyes as I was taken to the war.
Had I been a younger man I may have fainted at the sight for I thought I had stepped back in time to see Dar’elah again, but at full power once more.
The rising spires of stone, the blight of fel permeating the air, the demons walking about the city as if they belonged, and the looks of disdain on the citizens face. If I had seen a relative it would have been less shocking than to find another city that followed so closely to Dar’elah.
In my youth I remembered correspondences spoken of between our ruling council and other cities by my mother. I had always imagined them as cities of Kalimdor, ones they had duped into trading and believing them to be a regular city. I never would have feared there to be another place in the world like Dar’elah.
Now it brings an old worry to my mind once more. If Suramar and Dar’elah were in true contact so many years ago, I must wonder if they are to have records of the city. Records of people and events, records of the Shade that passed over Dar’elah millennia ago.
I have worked so hard to conquer my past and shape it so I may rise as a noble of Quel’Thalas. Countless lies have been told to create this false persona of my origins so as to avoid any denial of my claims. Now I face more obstacles, just as I had thought war may save me from the tedium of nobility.
With Legion launching I’m putting down the story of the war camp that Alorinis, Adrya, and Eleneill have been running while the invasions have been going down.
@matriarchoffire and @a-disgruntled-dragon, we’re going to the Broken Isles now!
Also mentioned: Anorise Dawnscorn, played by @iskelliot!
War Camp Elbethon
The camp was filled with a new kind of activity this day. For the past weeks the camp had been bustling with preparations for battle and the aftermath of such. Invasions by the Burning Legion had only be growing more frequent since they began, taxing the soldiers while leaving them to fight fresh Legion creatures each time. The camp had been established to act as a vanguard for Quel’Thalas, preventing the Burning Legion from invading the High Home, but they had spent much time venturing further from their borders to aid nearby lands. The toll it had taken on the people was evident, even in the excitement that had taken over the camp on this night. They were moving out, but still to more war.
Eleneill had been the first of The Grove to respond to the threat of the Burning Legion, riding out into the Foothills with her force of Storm Guard, she rebuked the first of many invasions that crept closer to Quel’Thalas. Following her example Alorinis had risen the remainder of The Grove’s forces into action, moving them forward to establish War Camp Elbethon, named after the tree that served as home to the leadership of The Grove. Brought together the power of The Grove was impressive, but still tiny compared to a force such as the Burning Legion. Alorinis had not let that deter them, using the advantages of their homeland to bolster the forces with him. With the citizens of The Grove hidden away in protected positions across Azeroth alongside a small percentage of his force, he had been able to call the majority might of the Grove Wardens to his side; thankfully he had been joined by the personal forces of some of his overseers, such as the Storm Guard, the Blackguard, the Good Clerics, Hand of Belore, and Flameriders. The other overseers had called for their personal forces to remain with them in defense of the civilians, but Alorinis was grateful for that as he would rather have his Grove Wardens at his disposal than defending civilians.
Even with the forces at his command, battling the invasions had been difficult. House Blackdawn and House Dawnstorm had been able to give them magic users to combat the Burning Legion at their most basic level, the fel magic they utilized, but the progress had been slow. Together they had been looking into ways to create barriers and other defenses to prevent the Legion from physically entering such spaces, their progress had been positive, but time hadn’t been on their side. The Good Clerics, alongside their overseer Speaker Sialon Del’nethar, had been providing the largest part of healing matters for the force, and doing their best to control the flow of soldiers afield and at rest. Together with the Storm Guard, the Blackguard, and the Hand of Belore, the Grove Wardens had been successfully rebutting the Legion invasions at each break.
He, Eleneill, and Adrya had spent many nights discussing the motivations of the Burning Legion. They all had experience with the forces, Adrya especially, but they found themselves confused more than not. The Burning Legion had advanced their invasion capabilities. Ships flew overhead. Structures rose from the ground in eruptions of fel and metal. Demons poured out in waves, coming until their portals could be destroyed. The problems had been in seeing the pacing, as if the Burning Legion had been holding back, waiting for something. They had suspected they were waiting for a full assault, when the whole of the Burning Legion would pour into Azeroth, but it hadn’t come yet. Still they debated. At the command table they were joined by the other overseers, the Warden Supreme, and commanders of personal forces. Together they debated more, trying to discern what the Legion intended. Still they were left with questions.
They had paid attention to how the world around them had changed. The Horde and the Alliance saw changes to leadership, changes to people. The orders that paid no heed to factions had risen again in strength, fighting beside Horde and Alliance alike; even Dalaran had returned to its neutral standing and moved to Karazhan, with the absence of Lady Jaina. Each piece of news brought details to them, but still they found questions. They had been like the rest of the world, watching and reacting, but not learning enough to predict.
Alorinis sat at the command table, fingers laced together as he watched outside of the tent. Soldiers flocked across his narrowed field of vision through the flaps. Supplies were carried, beasts were being herded, and wounded were being moved. Placing themselves along the border of Quel’Thalas and Lordaeron had served well for the purpose of defending against invasions, but not well in terms of their next phase of operation. Before him, on the table, laid a simple notice that had come from Quel’Thalas and changed everything.
Alorinis had prepared for War Camp Elbethon to remain for months or years, making a stand against the Burning Legion. It had turned out to be weeks before news from Dalaran had made every force change direction. When the news had reached their camp by way of a Thalassian courier, the command table had been full. Some argued against the orders, believing their best was served at defending the border. The rest had retorted that it was their duty to follow orders, and they could not risk leaving the forces without their support. In the end the three had decided, and when Alorinis, Adrya, and Eleneill agreed on a matter within The Grove, it was law. They were breaking down the camp and boarding ships, bound for the Broken Isles. There they would come to combat with the Burning Legion again, but now be seeking some artifacts called the Pillars of Creation. Alorinis did not know what these were, but he knew that Dalaran believed them crucial to the effort against the Burning Legion.
These Broken Isles were a new terrain, that was what bothered Alorinis the most. Near the border of Quel’Thalas they had the advantage. His soldiers knew these hills and plains like they knew their own names, they were prepared for any eventuality here. They were close to home, and better prepared to fight. Now they would be away from home, beset by new challenges. They did not know the inhabitants of these islands, nor the conditions of them. Draenor had been a war torn land with primal energies abounding, it had strengthened Alorinis and his forces, so entwined with natural energies. He did not know how the Broken Isles would be.
A gauntlet covered hand reached up, scratching against his cheek. The living wood against his skin felt natural now. The armor had served him better than expected against the demon army. It had been crafted out of living wood harvested from the great tree Elbethon where he had built the Emerald Palace, and it teemed with natural power that reacted valiantly against the fel energy of the Burning Legion. He had brought along the crimson and gold armor he wore as a representative of Quel’Thalas in war, but had elected against it in favor of his new armor. He would keep it in case it was needed, but for now his living armor served better.
The camp had grown more bare since the hours they had received the notice. The forces were gathering together and creating a caravan to the western shore of the Eastern Kingdoms. There they would join with the forces of Forsaken sailing to the Broken Isles, though aboard their own ships, and prepare again. The landing would likely be a tough battle, but they would soon establish a base camp alongside other forces. Dalaran itself had been talked of moving closer to the shores as well, which would provide the forces with an excellent location to center around. Alorinis did not intend to repeat the mistakes of Draenor, striking into an unknown territory without established base camps and preparations. He would enter the Broken Isles with The Grove at his command, and if he found the situation to grow desperate, he would again call The Dawnfury Concordant to command.
It was hours still before an attendant entered the tent, the colors of The Grove marked over his vest. He had come to begin the break down of the command tent, but was prepared to wait if the Grovekeeper needed time. Alorinis didn’t need more time, it would alone serve to delude him. He left the tent and allowed the attendants to begin breaking it down, preparing it for storage on their flagship that he, Eleneill, and Adrya would board. Coming outside was a bit of a shift. The camp was nearly empty now, they had waited last for his tent. Soldiers were scarce, what few remained were making way to join the caravan that already stretched to the horizon. Eleneill and Adrya had gone ahead with the soldiers, preparing the ships and organizing the people. Alorinis had stayed behind to draft a letter to be sent to his people in hiding, telling them to prepare to return to their homes, and of the hope they should keep as they returned to normal lives. The invasions would end likely when they reached the Broken Isles if the information from Dalaran was correct. He had ordered his Farstrider battalion to the border as a preventative measure, but if no invasion had broken for a solid week, they would notify his people to return to their homes. They would return to a normal and safe life, while Alorinis continued his normal and dangerous kind.
He joined with the final stage of the caravan, riding in a wagon with one of the attendants who had broken down the command tent. He had never given much concern as to where he was seen among the camp, but after his time as the Grovekeeper people had grown used to it. The attendant did his best to keep at attention with the reigns, but Alorinis eventually had them given over to him. He enjoyed the work as a way to think, allowing him to speak with the attendant about his thoughts on the invasions so far. The attendant was a young man, not yet fully trained as a fighter and waiting for the proper time. He was worried but hopeful, as Alorinis wished most would be. He admitted to a sense of excitement at discovering new lands, seeing what these Broken Isles had to offer and teach them, but was disheartened that such discovery was predicated by matters of war again, as always. His words eased Alorinis’ mind somewhat, the idea of some comfort in these stressful times, but worry lived beneath it. People were not supposed to become comforted in times like these. Alorinis was restful in them because he had been raised to be, monsters thrived and lived in the chaos of war. But this boy was an innocent, possibly one day a savior, he should see war as a horror with no excitement. The prospect of comfort in war did not come easily to him.
