#eleneill

[hewhohasremained]

The Return Home

The demon hold of Antorus was finally broken. The forces of the Army of Light, Horde, Alliance, and seemingly every faction opposed to the Burning Legion flooded in; the Grove Wardens lead by Eleneill and Alorinis among them. While the forward force created a direct path towards Aggramar’s position further in the rear of the Burning Throne, the main force moved to secure the newly opened halls and expel the Legion forces.

Alorinis charged with the vanguard of his forces, moving to secure a nearby chapel that demons had been seen fleeing into. His living staff, Greensmith, curled its bough together to form the shape of a warhammer, and lead the charge through the chapel doors. Its magically hardened leaves and branches crushed through the metal, sending debris flying towards the demons on the other side.

“Attack!” Screamed the Shivarra in the back of the demonic force.

Alorinis did not need to yell or issue command, his forces already knew what to do under his leadership. The thrum of dozens of bows sounded behind Alorinis, arrows filling the air around him as they rushed towards demons. Some of the demons fell back to a defensive position, organizing into a semblance of safety. Some of the demons fell to the ground, bodies dissolving to ash. The Grove Wardens did not need to hear the command to charge and push the attack, Alorinis’ tactics were understood by each of them intimately. Bows were traded for swords and spears, formations shaping as they moved forward to attack the demons. Alorinis did not wait for the formations to be made, knowing his forces would be at his heels.

Greensmith’s hardened bough slammed through the shield of the first demon among the defense, leaving the demon open for the punch Alorinis threw at its face. The axe of the demon next to it raised up and slashed down at Alorinis, caught by the blade of a warden’s spear. His forces coming on in full against the demons left Alorinis able to go after his primary target, the Shivarra.

The blades of the Shivarra slashed through the air, crashing into the study body of Greensmith as Alorinis shoved back at the demon in hopes of sending her off balance. A quick back step put the Shivarra on balance again, swords swinging low and stabbing forward in an attempt to wound Alorinis’ stomach. Greensmith came down, pressing against the top of the blades. Normally the move would have just directed the blades towards Alorinis’ legs, threatening to cripple him or worse, but Alorinis’ legs were no longer on the ground. As Greensmith had come down to press on the swords, Alorinis had begun to roll forward and send his feet into the air as he propelled himself into a flip forward. Both of his feet snapped out, colliding with the Shivarra’s face and separating her from her swords. Alorinis’ stomach curled inward, his chest rising up to continue his roll towards the Shivarra. His gauntlet, shaped from the same tree that had given him Greensmith, sharpened as his fingers extended forward like a spear. His arm rushed forward, weaponized fingers puncturing the skin of the Shivarra’s long neck and tearing through the opposite side.

Demonic anatomy did not dictate that the original denizens of the Twisting Nether required things such as air to breathe nor a neck to inhale with, which the Shivarra could have used to her advantage with the ranger trapped by his arm lodged in her throat if her opponent had not been Alorinis Bloodarrow. A youth spent among demons and learning about them and a life time fighting them had given him the experience to know that a demon did not die solely by cutting their throat, so his stabbing of the Shivarra’s neck had not been the deathblow but rather the opening he needed. Natural energy began to flood out of his gauntlet, stored there during his time on Azeroth in preparation for the dead world of Argus, and poured into the demon’s body. Fel and Life were not opposites among the natures of magic, but nor were they powers that easily melded. All too often they fought and battled by habit, the stronger power overcoming the weaker and devouring it. As Alorinis poured in the wealth of magic stored in his armor he could feel the fel of the demon being overwhelmed, destroying her physical form and returning her to a spirit of the Twisting Nether.

His arm retracted as he stood up from what remained of the demon’s body, just the head of the Shivarra, and observed his forces. The small force of demons had been easily overwhelmed in the chapel, piles of ashes and left behind armor scattering the floor. Some of his forces had been wounded, but he saw none dead among the assault; always good news to have none dead. His eyes turned to the south, beyond the walls of Antorus, to where he knew Eleneill had been leading her contingent, and wondered how their luck had turned.

The demons are dyin’ in herds before us, they won’t last the day, if that. Eleneill said telepathically to Alorinis, as if she knew he was thinking about her. There’s more runnin’ to the north, trying to board one of their ships, I’m thinkin’. Want to go take them out?

I will send my forces to join your own, and I shall join you soon after, my love. Alorinis thought in reply, turning to signal to the wardens.

“Move out and join forces with the Queen of Storms to the south. Prepare your attacks made for distance and boarding maneuvers, as you will be assaulting Legion ships,” Alorinis ordered to the forces, which began to immediately gather into formation and leave the chapel.

“Without the Fel the Shadow shall consume you,” hissed a voice from behind Alorinis.

Alorinis spun around in shock, Greensmith’s leaves fanning out to form the shape of an axe, preparing for an attack from an unnoticed assailant. Instead of a new enemy Alorinis found an old one, the head of the slain Shivarra looking back to him. The creature was holding fast to the last threads of its connection to the plane of the living, seeming content to mock its killer before returning to the Twisting Nether. Alorinis relaxed his grip on Greensmith and knelt down besides the head, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You are not the Fel, demon. You are only a poor practitioner of the magic, who has used it in the following of a deranged Titan to bring genocide upon the worlds. The Fel and Shadow will survive past you, but those like you who use it to bring war will be removed. Your legion will fall into disarray as your leader is jailed, and your kin will flee back to the Twisting Nether as the chaos reigns,” Alorinis replied with a derisive snort.

“We will return to the Twisting Nether, to those who we worshiped before our Master came to find us.” A sinister smirk crept upon the Shivarra’s face, “She among them. Meanwhile you and your kin will be set upon by terrors you can not fathom, and you will die for it. We shall only watch from the beyond, laughing in knowledge that you have brought this upon yourself.”

Alorinis offered only a roll of his eyes, standing up from the floor of the chapel and turning to the doors. He would follow his plans to rejoin the forces of The Grove and secure the rest of the stronghold before turning to the ships to return home. The warning from the Shivarra of a worse enemy on the horizon faded from his mind quickly, but the words regarding where the demons would return to in the absence of Sargeras left him concerned. Visions of statues from his childhood filled his mind along side the concerns of certain enemies growing more bold and dangerous. Matters he would have to remain concerned with.

Days later Alorinis found himself aboard one of the ships set for The Grove. The trip from the Broken Isles to Wintersun Harbor was long, but the time seemed to go quickly for him. The Burning Legion was broken, Sargeras was jailed, and he felt he could see a true peace in the future. The origins of the entire conflict between the Horde and Alliance, and so many other problems across Azeroth, was gone. Settlements and peace could be made, and Alorinis felt as if he could be relieved. He would be home soon, with his wives and children, able to focus on matters outside of war. The Grove could be reordered and truly managed by him now, the affairs of Quel’Thalas could be seen to and settled. The future looked bright, no matters of Shadow on the horizon.

[hewhohasremained]

Winter Veil gift for @the-stormbound​

Slipped into Eleneill’s cloak when she wasn’t looking, to be discovered later, was a simple letter with the signature of Alorinis written across the cover.

My dearest,

Ever has our life been an adventure, never one to cease. It acts without regard for our desire or want; though, perhaps this is why it is our life, for ours is never want to dissuade a new adventure. It is that affirmation in your eyes every time a new challenge presents itself that I am reminded of my love for you, and how perfect that love is.

I would take us on a new adventure, while the regiment rests and the world drifts into a patience of pseudo peace. Ulduar calls to us, to explore its reaches and depths yet unfound. To discover something new.

Let us away, Alorinis

[hewhohasremained]

Winter Veil gift for @the-stormbound.

Left on Eleneill’s side of the bed was a wooden box, the sigil of The Grove emblazoned on it. Inside of the box was a note and an hourglass fill with different colors of sand.

My love, my queen of storms, my returning life,

It has been a long journey for us this life. Ever since I saw you for the first time so long ago, when you enlisted in the Dark Sun regiment, I fell in love with you. Since that day we have walked many places together, side by side, just as we have countless lifetimes before. Just as we will in many more lifetimes. Our story has been long and will continue longer still, each day a new adventure, a new place we will walk. I cherish every step we take together, and can not wait to see another step we take. May this hourglass, filled with the sand of every step we’ve taken, remind you that our time is forever, just a flip of the hourglass needed to continue on.

I love you more than life itself, Alorinis

[mercilessmime]

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.

There is much to be done.

[mercilessmime]

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.

[mercilessmime]

A short little reply story to @askeleneillwolfbound‘s newest short; in which Elen is finally coming home! @matriarchoffire for mention and update on her home life!

Alorinis shot up in bed, eyes thundering open as he inhaled a sharp breath, a surge of power washing through him. The intrusion to his soul has jarred him from sleep, bringing him into the waking world with the preparation for a fight. It was not every day someone came in contact to his guarded soul without any obstacle.

The empty room and lack of pain upon him brought the moment of calm he needed to see the truth of the moment. He was not under attack, his soul was not compromised. Contact with it had been made so easily because the opening had always been there, the other end had merely taken the steps to it finally. He felt for the reforged bond, a warmth growing in his chest as the felt that ever familiar soul with his own again.

The room around him changed as the new vision overrode its scene. The grassy fields and forests below, looking over from a cliff on high. The colors of Quel’Thalas’ lands were falling away to the darkness of the southern half of the Kingdom, the border of the Ashlands only a few yards away from where she stood.

A mirror came before their shared vision, Eleneill’s face filling the reflective surface. Alorinis could not hold back his grin, nearly falling forward in bed as he went to kiss the face. Eleneill pressed her lips together in a kiss for him, grinning back at him with a snort.

Hope you got more than a kiss for me when I get back. Kisses and much more.

The image faded away as Eleneill started to move, leaving Alorinis back in the room with Adrya. He turned to look at his white-haired wife, the heavy sleeper having barely registered his sudden wakening. One of her eyes cracked open when he roaming hands did not find his chest beside her, the sleep heavy look turning on him in silent curiosity.

“Eleneill is coming home, Adrya.” “We’ll need a bigger bed,” she said with a smile.

Adrya fell back asleep as soon as Alorinis leaned back into the bed, smiling at the thought of having Eleneill back with his daily life. The children would be overjoyed, they had missed her so much. Her presence at the Congress of The Grove would make the changes come even stronger, bolstering their pace with it all. The thought of her being there when he fell asleep at night was in truth the best thing of all, he had been missing part of himself since she had been gone. He had found Adrya, who had filled a void he had carried for a long time, but Eleneill was all together another part of him. The thought of them both was something he knew he never deserved, but had somehow found.

[the-stormbound]

My dearest Alorinis, We - I, that will take some getting used to again. Your letter found me with all do haste, and made the last few days of this transition all the more bearable. The ritual has been a success, needless to say. Not a painful process, just very long and tiring. Does not help when you have forty wolves all trying to lay on you at once. Neither Eleneill nor Alyla are "dominate" per say, but we are a whole entity again. It's very.... Odd. I suppose I feel more Alyla than Eleneill, but that's not a right distinction either. I apologize if this sounds odd or not like you're used to. I am still finding my voice in all of this. Twenty-four thousand years of memories coupled with a renewed sense of being has left me a tad lost. Yet I write to you with confidence that my love for you has not faltered. If anything, it's stronger than before and I miss you and the children greatly. I am glad they're getting along with Adrya and are welcoming her as their mother. I hope to be home before Hallow's End. There's just a few last things to finish before I return home. A few more weeks and I should be more put together. Oh, and I'm much more glowy than before. I think you'll enjoy it. I miss you greatly and love you with all my soul. Your Storm Hunter, Eleneill Alyla Stormwolf @chemicalbydefault

[mercilessmime]

In The Shire

Our favorite couple has taken a trip down to the Land of the Exiled to meet with their mighty Queen, but first need to meet the people they trust to run their land in another Kingdom. Time to meet the Shire.

Featuring: scowlingamercat rennali(by mention) skittlemeister

---

They ridden for an entire day and through most of the morning to the next, but they had reached Quel'Althellien finally. Alorinis was the first awake, looking around their comfy carriage with a grin and to his wife. Piled with children, as always. He glanced over to the smaller beds they had brought for the kids to use, every single one empty. They always seemed to gravitate into their bed on long trips, each of them eventually climbing on top of Eleneill, except Lilith. She was fast asleep on his pillow, clutching around where his head use to lay.

He rose up from the bed and pushed open the carriage door. Dellingr was the first to greet him, the enormous stormwolf giving a gruff growl in hello, and jerking its maw to the other wolves that had accompanied them on the trip. Members of the Pack taking to the Shire for extended time, some of them growing too old for the hard north, others just needing to switch out from their groups due to fighting or being ousted.

The air is cleaner here, Mate of She who is Mine. Where have we come? Alorinis looked to the quizzical stormwolf with a grin. "Quel'Althellien, a home to many of our exiled kin, and much of Eleneill's remaining family." The stormwolf sniffed the air greatly, sparks of lightning slinging from his nostrils with the intake. I like it here. "I am sure you do," Alorinis replied.

The carriage had come to rest before their house in the Shire, a comfortable home, albeit smaller than their manor in Grizzly Hills. Alorinis did muse to the idea of asking Eleneill to move here permanently. It would be closer to Quel'Thalas, and the children could be around more people. "Maybe one day," he said with a shrug as he moved to the door and made to push it open.

It swung open without his force, the air before him clean and empty of any creature to perform the act. Lower down though, it revealed the man. "Master Bloodarrow!" The high pitched voice squealed, extending a stubby hand forward for the Elf to shake. Alorinis grinned, taking the hand in earnest and shaking it firmly, "Verstallus, you act as if you have never seen me. We were at the manor last month," he laughed as they broke hands. "Well, yes, sir. But you've never come down to the Shire with the whole family before, it is just exciting! You can see all the work we've done, oh I hope you like it. I tried to follow your instructions." Verstallus began to rattle on, but Alorinis laid a hand over his strange haircut. "I just told you to lead it, Verstallus. So long as you wear that ring you had the idea for, I think you are fine." Verstallus blushed, showing off the ring across his middle finger with a grin and nodding. "Very well then, if you would follow me, sir. The Fellowship is awaiting you. Don't worry about the Mistress Eleneill, when she wakes the servants will help carry all your belongings inside."

"What? I ain't staying here while he gets to meet people!" A sharp voice broke through the carriage, followed by smaller gasps and pops of sound. Eleneill's sleep ridden head poked out of the window, staring from Alorinis to Verstallus. "I'm his wife, I get to come too!" She nodded, moving to pull her head back inside and then stopping, "And I got family here. This place is mine more than his." She snorted and moved back inside. She exited the carriage with a gaggle of children swinging around her and following her slowly, eight children beneath the age of five all were following her. "Oi, you!" Eleneill said with a pointing finger at a servant who was near the door. "You're now the nanny. Take 'em in, clean 'em up, feed 'em, and put on their nice clothes. We'll be back in an hour or so." She nodded to the man who did not move, clearly confused as he looked from Verstallus to Alorinis. "Oi! They ain't in charge here, I am! Get moving! Sick 'em!" Eleneill said the last bit to her children who as one charged at the man with their tiny legs, laughing as they hugged around them and the man accepted his new position with a snicker.

"Let us go then, my love," Alorinis said with a laugh, giving the feisty woman a kiss which she made no moves to let be short. Verstallus blushed some more, fiddling with his necklace for a moment and nodding. "Right, this way," the half-Elf said as he started to walk around the carriage. "We have nearly a full Fellowship now, but I am still looking for proper members. I am not fond of some that apply, though the openness of the town has attracted more like me. Half-Elves that is, not always Gnomish ones." The squat man prattled on as he lead the couple on the short walk from their home to the actual main home of the Shire. 

The taller and more elaborate house definitely had been redone. Verstallus' mixed heritage showing across it as cogs and gears mixed with arcane sparks and marble spheres. "But, I hope you approve of the ones you meet." He lead them through a short door, nearly scratching Alorinis' head, and up some winding stairs. "Verstallus, why did we use the kitchen entrance?" Eleneill asked, looking perplexed. "Oh... I just always do. I can reach the door handle there." Eleneill barked out a laugh, smiling at the half-Elf, "Oh Titans, I do love having you around, Verst."

The finally entered a large room, with a circular table at the center, dotted with people who all rose as Alorinis and Eleneill entered. Their eyes darting from his flaming crown to her wolfish arm, it was hard to miss the couple. Their eyes looked over the group, sizing up and inspecting each person. By the storm, look at that one. She's gotta be half giant. Eleneill wordlessly said to Alorinis, his own mind replying in kind. He did say the land had attracted more halflings, but look, your cousin Robin is here. Alorinis nodded his chin towards a smiling Quel'dorei, waving at the two enthusiastically. Huh, cool. Eleneill replied as she waved back. They moved to the seats Verstallus pointed out to them, two large chairs on a raise dais above the table, as the man took his own seat at the table.

"Allow me to begin the introductions." Verstallus spoke up, standing on his chair and barely passing the heads of most of those around the table. "Lady Antiel, Mistress of the Arcane Circle, bearer of the Magic Ring. She ensures the magics of the Shire are kept under check, and only put to positive use." He denoted a short Quel'dorei woman who was giving a great deal of effort to keep her eyes on the couple and smile, fidgeting the whole while. "Lord Robin Sunsword, Watcher of the Pack, and bearer of the Fang Ring. He keeps to the well being of the Pack stationed here, and accurately keeping their numbers during and after hunting season." The comment made Eleneill bristle but she nodded nonetheless, her eyes roaming across the few remainders at the table. "Captain Urgok Stillwhisper, Captain of the Isenguard, and bearer of the Shield Ring. She leads our military force for the Queen, and does an amazing job of protecting the Shire from poachers and other enemies." Verstallus denoted the large woman they had early guessed to be half-giant, who gave a small grin at their stares, "She is half-Ogre," Verstallus cut in at the stares, clearing his throat. "And lastly, Mister Delthil Brewhammer, Master of Agriculture, and bearer of the Plant Ring. He coordinates our creation of exports and trade for the Shire, and helps keep our contacts with Ironforge due to his father's heritage there. And of course, I handle the gold and such that comes through for such ventures." Verstallus returned to his seat, smiling up at the duo on their large chairs. Is this suppose to be our throne? I don't like it. Eleneill shot at Alorinis, quirking a brow. He shook his head, agreeing to her statement and smiling back at the group. "I am glad to see the Shire is in such capable hands. It makes it much easier for Eleneill and I to make this trips for pleasure rather than business."

"What does bring you here, Lord Bloodarrow," Urgok said in a gruff voice deeper than Alorinis expected. "I have come for an audience with the Queen, and to seek her counsel on a matter. Along with discuss some things as to the state of her Kingdom and the Shire itself." He replied, glancing to Eleneill. "I uh... I just came to come really, see my family, check on the Pack. Robin, you'll be with me for that. Just hate staying at home, ya know?" She shrugged, obviously at ease with her statement compared to Alorinis'. I get to have fun, and you get to be boring. Eleneill chuckled at him.