#khazarath redbraid

[anthai-of-stormwind]

The Captain

Victor Blackwald stood amongst the workers at the Stormwind Docks, overseeing the loading and offloading of materials on board his ship. He was in human form, something he tried to be mindful of whenever he was in a majority-human port of call. He was clad in his usual Captain's garb of feathered hat and azure leather clothing trimmed in gold.

Khazarath Redbraid, ambassador from the Ebon Blade, hovered on his mount just above the docks for a moment, making sure he was delivering his message to the correct person. He noted that the crates were filled with gunpowder and cannonballs. Either the captain was part of the war effort, or the man really, really liked explosions.

The dwarf landed his mount among the gryphons and made his way towards the end of the docks, where the man stood talking with a worker and signing off on some paperwork. "Beggin' yer pardon," Khazarath said as politely as possible in the grave-touched voice of all death knights. "Are ye Cap'n Victor Blackwald?"

"...Eh?" Victor glanced to the left...and down at Khazarath. "Ahoy, lad. You've found him; what can I do for you?"

Khazarath reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a letter. "Name's Ambassador Redbraid. I've a message for ye. It's from that mage friend o' yers. She said she didn't want to deliver it in person." Khazarath handed the envelope, sealed with red wax, over to Victor.

Victor tilted his head. "Mage friend? You mean the dwarf, or the fire-haired?"

"Ah, the redhead," Khazarath answered. "Foulest mouth I've ever heard on that one. Drinks like a champion."

"Anthai, then."

"Aye; couldn't remember her name."

Victor collected the envelope, tugging out his knife as he broke the seal, and unfolded the letter to take a careful appraisal of the note. He scanned his gaze across the letter, his frown deepening as he shifted his gaze across each word. Yet...he paused, looking down at the letter for a long moment.

"Ye all right there, Cap'n?" Khazarath asked, breaking Victor's reverie.

Victor stood in silence for a moment. "Ambassador...do you...do you know where Anthai might be right now?"

Khazarath shook his head. "Nae, but I've been known to track people down when need be."

Victor looked down at the dwarf as he tucked the letter into his jacket. "Then...I want you to listen carefully, and tell her exactly what I say, aye?" Khazarath nodded. "I want you to tell her...tell her I'll always have my door open for her, and I'd like to see her again, aye? And that if she does some damn fool thing like get herself killed, I will personally fight my way into the Shadowlands, yank her ginger backside out of there, and nurse her back to health just so I can whoop her arse for her foolishness."

Khazarath laughed at Victor. "Ah, Cap'n, I don't think she'd take kindly to that sort o' thing."

Victor shook his head, running a hand along his face. "Take kindly or not, you tell her," he said in a soft tone. "Because I'm dead bleedin' serious. She best keep herself safe, and know that there are those out there who care for her, hm? She'll do what she has to, but...we'll be waiting for her to come back. Keeping a chair empty and a plate set out."

Khazarath committed the message to memory, already considering possible methods of tracking the mage if need be. He knew a cut-and-run when he saw one, but he also knew the Templars of the Rose, and they didn't leave a man behind if they could help it. "I'd best be off," he said in that slightly echoing voice. "But just so ye know...this seems like a personal thing t'me. My advice? Let the lass do what she needs. Dinnae seem like she was th' sort who wants to be found at th' moment."

Victor nodded. "I'll not go looking for her, short if I hear that she's gone and got herself in trouble. Thanks, Ambassador. I know I'm putting a fair bit on a messenger's shoulders."

"'Tis my job an' all," Khazarath replied, climbing up on his mount. "'Twas a pleasure, Cap'n." He shot Victor a wicked sort of grin. "Say hello to that bonnie lass at the Golden Keg for me."

"Hah! Aye, I will, hm?" Victor laughed and waved farewell as Khazarath flew off. After the dwarf was out of sight, Victor turned and paced around the docks for a while, lost in thought. He shooed off his workmen and ended up sitting on the rocks by the lighthouse, staring out at the gray sky and sea.

His eyes darkened from blue to a deeper indigo as he read over Anthai's letter once more, his wolf side only just able to contain his emotions.

To be delivered to Victor Blackwald Captain of the Raven's Revenge Dock #2 Stormwind Harbor

Victor-

I'm sorry for what I'm about to say, but I hope you'll be able to understand.

When you shapeshifted into that Blood Elf woman the other night, you were the spitting image of someone I lost a long time ago. With everything that's been happening - Xavius, helping Khadgar and the Nightborne take down Gul'dan, the constant battles in Suramar - I did something unforgivable, and for that I am so sorry.

There's something empty and missing inside of me, and there has been for a long time. I need to find out what that is, and I have to do it alone.

You've been very dear to me, but I'm leaving the Templars to forge my own path. Please don't come looking for me. I can't be part of your mission like this. I will never forget any of you, and I'm grateful for what you all have taught me. Give my love to the friends I made, and let them know that we may meet again someday. For now, I need to see if there's anything more to me than anger and vengeance. I have to.

Thank you for everything, Victor. I care for you very much. Don't do anything stupid.

-Anthai

Victor folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his shirt. He walked silently back to the ship, the paper crinkling audibly where it lay just over his heart.

[anthai-of-stormwind]

Unprepared Pt. 2

[From the travel journals of Lauren Kensington, to be delivered to the Templars Of the Rose in the event of her death.]

I met with the Redbraids in Hearthglen for probably the first time since the Cataclysm. Kem and Khazarath fought alongside me during the assault on Icecrown Citadel; a paladin and death knight, respectively. Twins not even death could separate for long. I envy their bond. I've never known what it's like to have a sibling. Kem all but considers me family; Khazarath...he's a good man, but it's hard for me to look at him and not see the Scourge in his dead white eyes. But he has never been anything less than loyal to me, and so I continue to pray to the Light to grant me greater acceptance.

I had, with the Justicar's permission, taken a leave of absence from the Rose after I'd received Kem's second letter. Khazarath, trying to give meaning to his life-after-death, had ingratiated himself to several factions after Icecrown, and maintained contacts all over Azeroth. He was an ambassador of the Ebon Blade and regarded as a neutral party, and therefore received news from both Alliance and certain members of the Horde. Whatever he had to say, it was urgent enough to say in person, and that didn't bode well.

Our reunion was short and bittersweet when I arrived at Hearthglen. All of us were glad to see one another, but we got down to business in short order.

Khazarath informed me that several nights ago, he'd had a dream. Concerning in and of itself, since the undead don't dream, as far as I know. He told us of a presence within Icecrown, a burned figure encased in ice and sitting on the Frozen Throne. Its eyes burned as it pointed at Khazarath and rumbled the single word "...shards..." before the death knight awoke with a start.

He wouldn't have shrugged something like that off in the first place, but it was doubly ominous because, he explained, he'd been in touch with several of his allies lately who had also reported strange goings-on. A shadow priest he'd known for years had suddenly begun speaking in the language of the Old Gods, and her shadowform had grown twisted. She'd had to be confined for her own safety.

Kem spoke then, revealing what she'd learned from Eyanna and Thayin Leafblade - old friends of ours, sisters, a druid and a warrior. They never went anywhere without the other, Thayin guarding her dreamy, half-there younger sibling as they lent their talents where they were needed. Eyanna had gone deep into the Emerald Dream and hadn't yet awakened; Thayin watching helplessly as her sister grew pale and drawn. This hadn't happened for years, not since just before the Cataclysm. Thayin was all sword and shield, no connection to the various magics of Azeroth, and was not used to feeling so helpless.

Most disturbing of all, however, was when Khazarath told us of a gnome warlock we knew...a warlock who suddenly found herself unable to summon her demons.

I sat back, taking in what I'd learned. I was reeling from these revelations. One odd vision was one thing, but to hear so many distressing trends from the Void, the Emerald Dream and the Twisting Nether...

The three of us looked at one another gravely. Something was happening. Something dire. But what could we do? The Highlord was off on a mission somewhere, so Kem and I couldn't consult with him.

That left us with Khazarath's vision. Kem and I had him leave to go find other champions, consult with the shamans, the mages, whoever else he could find. We needed to see exactly how widespread this was.

Kem and I would be returning to Icecrown.

To the Citadel.