#ruthar

[shreekofjoy]

Sadees' title, 'Sunmaker' is actually a linguistic error. Roshar doesn't give a cremling's foreleg about their sun.

It's actually supposed to be 'SONmaker' owing to his fathering the entirety modern Alethi nobility

[ronaestrider]

Stirring the Embers

Ruthar looks around with a smile, removing his helmet as he clinks his way through the upper chambers of the Phoenix Guard's former headquarters on Quel'Danas. His chainmail rings over the gentle sounds of the shore as he breathes in the salted air. He relishes the moment before heading through the curtains.

There's a light flickering in the old Commander's office of the Phoenix Guard's former base. Heavy steps crisscross the office, signaling the clanking of armor and weaponry belonging to one Knight-Lord Dawnblade. Once in the office, she's revealed to be... cleaning? Dusting? She has a dirty rag in her hand, wiping surfaces and fighting back sneezes.

Ruthar watches curiously before softly clearing his throat. "A sight for sore eyes," he says gently, wafting some dust away from his face. "Though I didn't expect your letter to summon me here for manual labour."

Inathia abruptly sneezes when Ruthar addresses her, then turns to regard him with a smile. A sniffly smile. It's just dust, -of course-. "Right? A little homesick, I guess. Turns out, putting fancy rocks back together is harder than I thought." Ina'thia crosses the office to pull open the curtains and open the windows overlooking the harbor.

Ruthar chuckles at that, leaning his bow against the wall near the door so he can pick up some papers from the ground. "I did have my doubts, to be honest," he chides mirthfully. "It was hard to imagine you leading a community of scholars and researchers. No progress to report on that end, then?"

Ina'thia laughs in turn, "Turns out it was, primarily, one scholar and researcher. One and a half if you include Magister Everblaze. But what can you do, when the Magistry tasks you to something? You do it." 

Ruthar nods as he continues to gather old papers. He lifts one off the ground with his own signature on it, an action report from the Broken Shore. "We did a whole lot of things that were required of us," he says as he scans the document. "And we were damn good at it."

Ina'thia leans against the now clean desk, crossing her arms. Her gaze falls to a stack of papers recounting Draenor -- and how Ranger Captain Ronaestrider had almost been lost to the Iron Horde's war machine. Banishing the unpleasant memory with a grin, she looks back over to Ruthar. "You're damn right we were. To the point where I feel so uncertain about everything else I've been up to, as of late. The Magistry project, desk duty with the Blood Knights... dare I say it... quiet domesticity." 

Ruthar nods knowingly. "I know what you mean. Ever since this nonsense on K'aresh, it's been an endless sea of meetings of defensive thoughts and concerns. A lot of talk, very little action. Not that I'm particularly interested in this Void nonsense looking upon Quel'Thalas."

Ina'thia raises a brow, "You went to K'aresh? Or just dealing with the meetings and chaos? That explains why Magistrix Silverspell summoned me..." 

Ruthar shakes his head. "The latter. Farstrider leadership has made a point to circle the proverbial wagons in the aftermath. A responsible move, but you know how bureaucracy can be." He lifts a brow. "Silverspell? I'm not sure I'm familiar."

Ina'thia keeps her arms crossed, "She's the Magistrix who initiated the Runesworn project. Surviving Runewarden from the Third War -- I digress. She seemed worried about something, and asked me about the Phoenix Guard." 

Ruthar halts his paper-gathering at that, standing up straight with his interest quite piqued. "Oh? Does she have interest in starting a militarized unit in tandem with the research initiative?"

Ina'thia seems troubled, evidenced by the furrow of her brow. "She didn't signal any particular interest -- a military venture seems absurd and unnecessary at this time, doesn't it? She just kept saying 'in case' or 'in the event of' and 'would you do it again?'" 

Ruthar 's eyes shimmer at that as the sun dances upon the upper reaches of the spire. "In a heartbeat," he says without so much as a moment's pause.

Ina'thia doesn't respond immediately, but a genuine smile creeps across her lips. "I told her the same, but only if my Lieutenant Commander was interested. It seems we are woefully -bereft- of a military conflict, though. Unless you count what happens when the Lord-Magister can't get his hair to style perfectly." 

Ruthar chuckles at that. "A conflict, to be sure, but hardly a military one. I dare say I'm not qualified for something of -that- scale anyhow. I leave that to your particular realm of expertise," he says with a playful smirk.

Ina'thia smirks, "The key is to just mess it up even more, clearly." Another light chuckle has her fussing with her own hair, mostly out of habit. "I doubt we'll get the Starfrosts on board, though." 

Ruthar nods as his eyes shift over to a piece of parchment with Syrielle in the middle of a field of text. "They have most assuredly continued on, for better or worse. I daresay that we are a bit more...predictable."

Ina'thia finishes fussing with her hair, "They seem well-established. A doctor and a Magistrix, a kid and all of that." There's a strange tone in her voice when she says doctor, in reference to Gattius. A mix of disdain and disappointment. "It's for the best." 

Ruthar watches her curiously for a moment. "This is starting to sound more official than I think you're letting on. Is this a serious inquiry of this Magistrix, then? Seems a hasty departure from the focus of the Runesworn."

Ina'thia shakes her head, "It's fun to think about, but I question the seriousness and necessity of it. Came here and started cleaning to keep my hands busy, lest I beat the absolute shit out of an unsuspecting Initiate." 

Ruthar laughs at that. "I shouldn't laugh because I know that wasn't a joke. Even so, I do miss working with the recruits - too many meetings at hand for that at present." He rustles a few more documents and clicks them in order against the desk. "Did you hear that Ranger Lord Dawnstrider is formally retiring?"

Ina'thia allows herself to reminisce. "I miss being out in the field, holding the line between demons -- orcs -- demonic orcs, even -- and our Spellweavers and menders." She sighs, snapping back to attention. "Ranger Lord Dawnstrider? That's who you've been working under, right?" 

Ruthar glances down to the shoreline, his mind recreating the demonic scenes of what feels like a lifetime ago. "Indeed," he replies. "He promoted me to Ranger Captain in the months prior to the Dark Portals rebirth."

Ina'thia taps her clawed fingertips on the desk's surface. "Will you seek promotion, then? I think it's about time, honestly. You've more than earned it. Promotion now will give you time to adjust, rather than in the middle of a war." 

Ruthar drums the desk with his armored fingers. "Humility is the default when it comes to such matters, you know me - if it's meant to be, then it shall be." His eyes dart to his own title under his signature on a nearby document. "Still, the word is getting around and I've placed the bug where it needs to go. The Ranger Lord and I have been quite close over the years."

Ina'thia follows Ruthar's gaze to the page with his signature. "Look at you, boasting humility yet playing the game of whispers. You've clearly spent a long time in Silvermoon..." she teases.

Ruthar chuckles. "You don't get anywhere if you can't play the game, even if you don't like it." He sighs exaggeratedly. "Perhaps I would have been a decent fit for your Runesworn Magistry project after all."

Ina'thia rests a hand over her heart, where her Knight-Lord insignia is pinned to her tabard. "I can think of no one more deserving of such a station and the honor it brings. If you need a recommendation, I will deliver it personally." 

Ruthar smiles softly at that. "Much appreciated, of course. Should such a note be required, you will be the first to know. I'm not sure anyone on Azeroth has seen the best or worst of me as you have."

Ina'thia squints a little bit as she tries to recall something about the worst of Ruthar. "Well, there was that one time, in Draenor..." she laughs. "Your so-called worst is positively angelic compared to mine. You'll be fine." 

Ruthar chuckles. "You literally pulled me out of the jaws of death's door on more than one occasion - I'd say that counts as the worst. Unless, of course, you want to count my relationship missteps, though those are probably best left markedly -off- the record."

Ina'thia smirks, "That -does- remind me of that one time in Draenor, actually. When we all thought we were going to die, and everyone was freezing..." she laughs. "Rest assured, none of that will get mentioned. And I once again reiterate -- your worst compared to mine makes you look like an angel. Don't worry about it." 

Ruthar nods. "There is a lot of uncertainty on the horizon, but with uncertainty comes opportunity. Speaking of, I fear I glossed over your own opinions on the Magistrix and such affairs. Would she close the Runesworn project if some sort of situation would arise, or did she not even mention any of that yet?"

Ina'thia pauses to think on that question for a moment. "You know, I'm not sure. If something severe enough to recommission the Phoenix Guard ever happened, a scholarly project for magic rocks would have to be put on pause. Wouldn't you think?" 

Ruthar nods. "I would assume so, but, then again, magical defenses and artifacts could be a huge benefit depending on the conflict."

Ina'thia shrugs, "At the end of the day, it's not really my decision. It's her project, and I can't very well do both if enough shit hits the fan that I'm a Commander again." 

Ruthar nods. "Quite so." He taps his chin in thought. "Have you heard anything from a Magister Duskfury? He's been helpful to the Farstriders for a while. He's a pro-military Magister, a former Sunreaver, as it were. I wonder if he'd be a great point of contact for your Magistrix should her attention be turned toward military interests."

Ina'thia quirks a brow, "Odd that I've not heard of him. Regardless, I'll pass his name along to Magistrix Silverspell. If things do go south enough to bring back the Guard, it'd be worthwhile for them to know of each other's interests." 

Ruthar smirks again. "Consider it another chess piece in the game - such a meeting might push a hand on the Magistrix's scale and further her interest in such things."

Ina'thia mutters under her breath, "If it keeps my nose out of a dusty old book..." she smiles. "We can put our thumb on the scale just a little bit, too. Not that I'm hoping for a disaster, or anything." 

Ruthar glances to the desk filled with stacked reports of conflict after conflict. "I don't think you need to hope," he says, gesturing to the contents. "I think the word is 'inevitable.'"

Ina'thia glances back to the desk, "...Fair enough. Well, with you and I leading things again, we'll have a fighting chance, won't we? Whether it be vanquishing demons or boredom." 

Ruthar chuckles, looking around the office. "The first thing to vanquish is this forlorn furniture. Let's get this done quick - there is a bottle of Thalassian red waiting for us at the inn below."

Ina'thia finally stands up straight, smoothing the wrinkles from her tabard out of habit. "By the Sunwell, I've -missed- you." She gestures for Ruthar to exit first, so that she can close and lock the door behind her. Maybe next time it won't be years before the office sees its next visitors.

@inathia

[shouldprobablybereading]

There is something horrifying about the realization that most vorin men have never eaten sweets

[firemoonxd]

my dragon prince exchange gift to candyfoxdraws!! Happy hollydays!

[ronaestrider]

A Pleasant Picnic

Ruthar slips through the pavilion, his boots clanking softly against the stonework. He stops as the doorway opens to the sea, breathing deeply as his mind slips into long-held memories. He watches as Analyse salutes beneath a phoenix banner, Rositsa focusing upon a target. The banner snaps in the breeze as a phalanx of Silvermoon's mightiest gather to trade information and plan their next move. With a blink of his tired eyes, the images disappear, revealing the calm scene before him - no guards, no protectors, just quiet. He looks over to the table nearby to find a seated Ina'thia.

"Of the three centuries I've stalked these forests, few places feel like home as much as this pavilion."

Ina'thia 's ears flick as she hears the clanking of Ruthar's boots as he exits the pavilion, out to the little clearing with tables. There's a picnic spread, complete with a red and gold embroidered cloth, and a bottle of wine.

"And that's why I always seem to find myself here, after all this time and everything that's happened."

Ruthar saunters over to the table, his eyebrows raising as he looks at the spread. "You certainly went all out. I didn't expect this when I received your letter..." He shifts over to take a seat on the bench across, noting her relatively unarmored form.

Ina'thia gives Ruthar a bit of a smirk as she pulls the cork from the wine bottle. "Well, we meant to do this how long ago, now? A lot has happened since then and now. My guilt, made manifest in a picnic." 

Ruthar watches her uncork the wine bottle, enjoying the sight of someone else kick off the drinking for a change. He rubs the back of his neck. "Oh, a while ago, for sure. But the tables in Fairbreeze aren't going anywhere and I'm a patient elf." He picks up a crystal glass and slides it in Ina'thia's direction.

Ina'thia is quick to pour into Ruthar's glass, then into her own. "I ran into Li-Mei last night. What's her status, these days? Still a traitor... probationary... questionable...?" 

Ruthar chuckles dryly, taking up the glass. He lofts it, somewhat dismissively. "Before we slide directly into that sort of business, to fond memories in a fond locale. I do appreciate the invitation, whatever the circumstances may be." He holds the glass aloft for a soft clink.

Ina'thia raises her own glass to toast with Ruthar, "You're right, you're right. My mind and entire life have been going entirely too fast. I planned to slow down, but here I am. Talking business." 

Ruthar clinks it, sipping the Thalassian red softly, cherishing the taste before popping a small fruit into his mouth. "Commander Dawnblade," he quips. "I don't believe you have ever had a reputation for slowing down."

Ina'thia takes a sip of her own wine, following it with a small wedge of cheese. "And that's where I'd say 'Lt. Commander Ronaestrider, I'll slow down when I'm dead!', right?" She laughs into her wine glass. 

Ruthar smirks at that. "Truly, the memories come swirling back on this beach. A lifetime ago, it feels..." He allows the moment to slip, taking another gentle sip before returning to the present. "Interesting that you would mention Li-Mei first and foremost - I only just today received an unprompted missive from her."

Ina'thia 's gaze trails past Ruthar to the beach itself as she relives her own memories. "She's looking for... something. Work? Assignment? Belonging? I'm not sure what to do about her." 

Ruthar nods, his expression somewhat quizzical. "Precisely," he admits. "That was nearly verbatim what was in her note."

Ina'thia lazily plucks a grape off of the picnic spread and pops it into her mouth. She rests her elbow on the table, chin in hand, thoughtfully chewing. "Part of this is an apology for not letting you know of my current assignment sooner. I'm sure you've heard about it, from the Magistry. Runestones. It's... not a strictly military affair. Li-Mei needs structure and I'm not sure if I can provide that." 

Ruthar nods slowly, his eyes shifting down toward the spread a moment. "I heard whispers, certainly. Of course, I don't have the strongest of ties to the Magistry these days, so I know precious little. I would assume, as always, it is a need-to-know situation."

Ina'thia watches Ruthar, "I wanted to tell you, but things moved quickly. I would welcome your involvement, however much you can provide. I know the Farstriders keep you busy." 

Syrielle smiles brightly as she silently approaches the familiar faces.

Ruthar nods. "Busy is certainly one way to..." His eyes shift over to his left and widen as he catches sight of Syrielle. "Goodness, I wasn't aware this would be such an occasion," he leans back, raising his glass toward Syrielle.

Syrielle brings her hand around over Ina's eyes, "Guess who!" She giggles playfully.

Ina'thia 's ears flick as she feels a presence behind her. Before she can turn around, hands cover the top half of her face! Her first reaction is to snarl, but her expression turns into a bright smile when she realizes who it is. "Syrie! I -just- sent that letter before I came out here. Are you that anxious to get out of the big fancy house?" 

Ruthar lifts himself up partially to pour a glass of red, sliding it across the table toward the empty seat next to Ina'thia.

Syrielle wraps her arms around Ina in a hug, "Just got out of a boring meeting actually. It was perfect timing! Oooh! We drinking?”

Ruthar smirks, pushing the glass even further. "Always."

Ina'thia leans in to Syrie's hug, then pats the seat next to her. "Eversong Red, the best and only! Come, come. This is hardly boring." 

Ruthar cants his head to the side at Ina'thia curiously. "You are quite...different than the last we spoke. Dare I say, happy? Content? This must be some project you've got."

Ina'thia raises a brow to Ruthar as she sips at her wine, holding the glass to her lips longer than normal as she measures her response. "Having a new project helps. Settling some personal issues also helps." 

Syrielle takes a seat next to Ina. Her gloved hand reaches for the drink, "That the new project Bey's got his eye on?"

Ruthar narrows his eyes curiously as he takes another sip, listening for the moment though curiosity radiates from his features.

“Must be quite a project!” Syrielle exclaims. “I haven't seen him in this good of a mood ever since…”

Ina'thia sets her glass down, "He's quite involved." She mutters under her breath, forgetting for a moment that she's in the company of elves. "We're quite involved. ANYWAY. This project is to restore some of the runestones that made Ban'dinoriel!"

Syrielle gasps at Ina'thia. “Ohmygoshreally?!” Her ears perk all the way up and her eyes glow with excitement, "You're together again?! AHHHHHHH!" She hugs Ina, again.

“Ban'dinoriel is long gone,” Ruthar states matter-of-factly. “The only restoration of note here is between you and the Magister, it seems.”

Ina'thia lifts an arm so that Syrie can go in for all of the hugs, but also so she can pat the top of Syrie's head. "Shan'dor still functions, and there are other, smaller runestones. If we can piece those back together, imagine what could be done for the others. Plus, I've gained a reputation as actually accomplishing the impossible. It's far from surviving suicide missions through the Dark Portal... but it gives me purpose." 

Ina'thia is, pointedly, not discussing Bey'ron.

Syrielle is focused solely on the Bey’ron and Ina thing, but is content to just keep hugging Ina happily, allowing she and Ruthar to continue their conversation.

Ruthar considers that, taking another sip before sampling a piece of Sunsail Gouda. "Knight-Lord Dawnblade has a new venture surrounded by magic-oriented folks? That seems like an...interesting choice."

Ruthar smirks as he takes another sip. "No offense, of course. Clearly, there is a little magic in you now."

Syrielle grins wickedly at Ina'thia. “Yeah there is!”

Ina'thia playfully messes up Syrie's tiara, "Plenty of other familiar faces in the group. Hawkcrest, Dawnreaer, Ravenscar, Bloodwrath, Tiderunner..." 

Syrielle chuckles, releasing Ina so that she can fix up her tiara.

Ruthar snaps up a little at that. "Ranger Captain Hawkcrest? Goodness, it sounds like you plan to beat the stones back into service."

Ina'thia snickers at Ruthar, "Well, has anyone tried that yet? It just might work."

Ruthar shakes his head with a smirk, reaching to pour another glass. "Fair enough, I suppose, though I was unaware the Knights had such a vested interest in magical defenses. A sign of collectivism that we should all aspire to, certainly."

“You getting the Guard back together?” Syrielle asks.

Ina'thia shakes her head, "No. The Guard is long gone... this is something new. Magistrix Silverspell is calling us the Runesworn." She shrugs a little bit. "The Blood Knights and the Magistry have always had a close relationship..." 

Syrielle grins at Ina, "Yeah, they have."

“Sometimes fraught,” Ina’thia continues, “but one nonetheless. It hearkens back to old times for our Order, but far more pleasant circumstances." 

Syrielle waggles her eyebrows at Ina.

Ina'thia holds the driest possible cracker up to Syrie's mouth, hoping she'll be too occupied with chewing and swallowing a desert than talking about Bey'ron.

Ruthar snorts into the wine glass at Syri before resting it down to sample some Falthrien Fontina. "Doesn't seem to me that there is much need for us old, non-magical defenders."

"There's magic around us everywhere in Quel'Thalas,” Ina’thia offers. “The leylines, the Light, even the land itself. Even if I don't understand it, I can protect those that do." 

Syrielle smirks as she chews the cracker, taking a sip of wine to help with it.

Ruthar nods, taking a long sip. "So, Li-Mei is interested in this as well? I take it that such a desire is the catalyst for her note."

Ina'thia drums her fingers on the edge of the table. She seems a little frustrated, and not quite sure how to articulate it. "I don't know if she's interested in this particularly, or just... -anything-. I don't know if I can trust her to keep the magical secrets we are already discovering." 

Ruthar considers that. "It is that very betrayal of magical secrets that exposed Ban'dinoriel in the first place, but I wouldn't say Li-Mei is the next Drathir..."

Syrielle finally swallows down that cracker, "She would never do it out of malice or on purpose, for sure."

Ina'thia nods slowly, "...I know, but the fact that I wonder about it gives me pause. And as I said; this isn't a military operation. It's not the Guard. There's no rank or role for her to be neatly boxed into." 

“How has she been doing?” Syrielle inquires. “I haven't seen her since the trial.”

Ruthar munches on a grape before replying. "Fairly well, from what I understand. In fact, I worked alongside her and Lord Everblaze in apprehending a traitor to the Kingdom along the southern border recently. Certainly, the Magister would vouch for her given those circumstances in addition to all his other efforts in her favour."

“Oh! You helped bring Sunwhisper in?” Syrielle asks. “That’s great!”

Ina'thia shifts on her half of the bench, quirking a brow. "Traitor? ...Sunwhisper? Why does that sound so familiar..." 

Ruthar nods. "It was mostly a trivial affair, to be honest. One of the betrayers who orchestrated Suncrown near the end of the Guard's tenure."

Syrielle looks up. “Really? No trouble bringing her in?”

Ina'thia nearly chokes on a grape, "That's -not- a mostly trivial affair. I thought those fuckers were D E A D. They should be, after what they did!"

“Not that I doubt you, Rosi and Bey's abilities, but isn't she like... super strong?” Syrielle offers as a follow-up.

Ruthar nods. "Turns out, she is, in fact, dead. She's still in Everblaze's custody, I believe. He had intended to find answers to quite a few questions."

Syrielle nods to Ruthar's words, "Events are recent and it's not very talked about."

Ina'thia exhales sharply into her wine glass and takes a big gulp -- the rest of the contents, in fact. She's stewing about a great many things. "I hate everything about this. But it's out of my hands." 

“The important thing is that she's in custody,” offers Syrielle.

Ruthar looks to Ina'thia curiously. "They are in Thalassian custody, I could think of no better place." He nods to Syri. "I am certain there are many answers to come. Regardless, Li-Mei was part of the collecting party, no questions asked. A good omen about her trustworthiness, perhaps."

Ina'thia lets out a sigh as she consciously wills the tension from her body. "You're right. Maybe I'm being too hard on her. I don't have a whole lot of room to talk." 

“Only you can decide who is best suited for your venture, of course,” Ruthar states plainly. “I only offer that I do believe she can be trusted, despite her momentary slip. She is certainly under the Magister's ever-watchful eye, at the very least.”

Syrielle takes another drink of wine, "She ever let anything slip when she was in the Guard?"

Ina'thia makes a funny face at the mention of the Magister's ever-watchful eye. She decides to take another wedge of cheese. "Not that I'm aware of. I'll... keep it under advisement." 

Ruthar looks over to Syrielle. "And you, Lady Starfrost? Are you also involved in this rune-venture?"

Syrielle shakes her head, picking out a piece of cheese, "Unfortunately not. Since I usually end up with Bey's work when he gets busy with other business. I can probably pitch in and help from time to time, but I don't think it's something I could fully commit to. It does sound interesting, though.”

Ina'thia offers a smile at Syrie, "I'd welcome any help you'd be able to give us. Same for you, Ruthar. I know the project seems far fetched -- impossible, even -- but the Phoenix Guard was successful against far greater odds and dangers." 

Syrielle smiles at Ina, "Definitely call if you need anything. I can usually pop in pretty quickly, as you saw." Syrielle mumbles as she goes to take a sip of wine, "I thought it was a booty call."

Ina'thia nearly chokes on her own spit.

Ruthar polishes off his second glass, clicking it down upon the table. "I swore an oath to the Guard, an oath that cost me dearly on more than one occasion. If you need my help, you need only..." his voice trails off for a moment as he glances between the pair. "I...I, ah. Well, I can certainly leave you to it..."

“Nah, I like being on Bey's good side,” Syrielle replies.

Ina'thia rests her hands on the table as she finishes sputtering. "...and I don't need to have -another- fight with Gattius." 

“Has he apologized to you yet? I told him he needs to apologize.” Syrielle pours herself another glass.

Ruthar shakes his head as other memories slip through his mind. "I commend your collective strength. I'm not sure I have many skills in this personal arena. The last ones...well, best to let those remain unreminded."

Ina'thia holds out her wine glass as Syrie pours herself more. "I don't think there will ever be apologies. But... it is what it is." 

Syrielle refills Ina's glass, her ears lowering some.

Ina'thia falls into silence as she nurses her wine. "Well, happier topics. The three of us are here, now, which hasn't happened in years! New projects... new things... it'll all be okay." 

Ruthar dusts off his tabard, standing from the table. "Sadly, I should retire back to the City before the night falls fully, as much as I'd love to watch the darkness kiss the shoreline once more." He sighs, looking out over the water as he shifts around. "It is truly good to see you both. New things, new projects - all indeed worth celebrating. A happy Ina'thia, too - a rare sight, indeed," he offers, turning around as he looks upon the pair with perhaps a hint of quashed underlying sadness. "But, a sight truly worth celebrating." He smiles at the pair. "As always, Sunwell guide. Send my best to both Sir Starfrost and Magister Everblaze."

Syrielle quickly gets up and walks over to Ruthar, pulling him into a hug, "It's always so good to see you, Ruthar."

Ruthar chuckles as he accepts the hug, holding tightly. "You as well, Syrie, should I still be permitted to call you that. A lovely surprise this evening, to be sure."

Ina'thia stands up as well. She doesn't rush in for a hug like Syrie does, but instead, stands awkwardly with her rigid postures and hands at her sides. "It was good to see you. And I hope to see you more. Remember... defying the impossible is what we used to do every day, and we did it well. Come help us build a runestone or four." 

Syrielle smiles. “You can always call me Syrie. In fact, I prefer it.” She reaches over and pulls Ina into the hug.

Ruthar smiles at that, accepting the hug that Syrie continues, holding his dear friends close for a prolonged moment. After pulling back, his fingers instinctively brush upon his marred eye scars.

"Some were better at defying said impossibilities than others, to be sure. Though, perhaps this old soul still has something to offer to this Runesworn." He flashes a small grin. "Just as with Li-Mei, I suppose I will take it under advisement."

Syrielle smiles, finally releasing the two, "We need to meet like this more often."

Ruthar smiles and nods. "Indeed! Ina'thia still owes me a dinner in Fairbreeze - certainly another chair wouldn't hurt."

Ina'thia allows a much wider smile to cross her lips, and she finds herself in the middle of this group hug somehow. For once, she doesn't freeze up or complain. Instead, she pulls her two friends in closer. "Dinner in Fairbreeze it is. With more wine!"

“Yay!” Syrielle cheers.

Ruthar smiles at that, offering one final squeeze before slipping away. "I have some special selections from my vintner to share, I very much look forward to that. But, Sunwell guide and all that for real this time." He begins to walk toward the pavilion before turning to offer one final smile to the pair before trekking back to the City.

“Sunwell Guide, Ruthar,” Syrelle replies with a smile.

Ina'thia gives Ruthar a little wave, "Sunwell guide, my friend. Rest well." 

Ruthar chuckles at that, always having wondered what it felt like to be sunwell guide-d. He takes another glimpse from his now helmet-adorned head before truly departing, his mind moving far faster than his feet.

He sighed as he slipped through the woodlands southward, returning to the walls of Silvermoon. He had truly received much more than he bargained for, for good or ill. Upon receiving a letter of invitation from In'athia for this evening, he had expected some basic updates about goings-on in regards to the Knights or movements in Quel'Thalas - standard points of their regular discussions. The focus on personal matters was not something he had anticipated.

There was never an opportunity, don't dwell on it, his mind whispered the reminder to himself as he walked along. The Knights and Magistry have always had a special sort of relationship - you chose your path long ago when you first lifted a bow.

He instinctively reached for Ana'dal upon his back, running his fingers along the ornate golden wood. No sense focusing on what could have been, he reminded himself.

Focus on what is.

--------------------

@inathia @syrielle

[ronaestrider]

A Reunion Long In The Making [Part II]

[ Part I ]

Ina'thia makes the long walk up the spire to the Phoenix Guard's former headquarters, motivated by the promise of wine and memories. She hopes for good memories, but if not, there's wine for that. The former Commander marches to the door, and lets out a frustrated hiss when it is, in fact, locked! She jiggles the handle, then begins pulling on it.

Ruthar makes his way up, a pair of dusty wine bottles and a pair of crystal glasses in his hand. He hears the jiggling of the locked knob. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised by that," he says with a chuckle. "It has been quite some time."

Ina'thia seems to be taking her anger, which had been buried deep for years, out on the door. She becomes more forceful with it. "Of course it's locked. Why wouldn't it be? Did they give me a key? Fuck if I know. I've been gone for seven - " she kicks the door once then twice. " "- YEARS." With a final kick, the door swings open in a whirl of dust and paperwork! It was exactly as it had been left, save for the layer of dust.

Ruthar opens his mouth to suggest something, but shuts it promptly as the door smashes inward. "That's one way to the put the shattered in Shattered Sun."

Ina'thia rakes a hand through her hair to toss it back over her shoulders, then steps into the office. It was small and cramped, but offered a beautiful view of the harbor. She'd lost count of how many nights she'd stayed up until the dawn here.

“I may have been a bit overealous.”

Ruthar makes his way into the office, the memories flooding back as he moves from the main meeting room into her office. "Perhaps a touch," he offers. He places the bottles and the glasses down on the desk, pushing a document out of the way. He lifts it up in his fingers, eyeing the red ink at the top. -Classified: Decommissioning Notice-

Ina'thia turns the decommissioning notice upside down, lest it sour her mood and make her become completely overzealous. "We spent a lot of time up here, didn't we? I remember planning our mission to Draenor and telling the others to get their affairs in order and make peace with the Light, or whatever they prayed to." 

Ruthar nods, allowing a pause to settle as he moves to uncork one of the bottles. "I remember it very clearly. When I was captured in Tanaan, it was one of the things that truly kept me alive. Remembering the faces of all of you who accepted the suicidal portal mission." He pours the liquid into the glasses.

"Feels simultaenously like a lifetime ago and only yesterday."

Ina'thia pulls her gaze away from the harbor to Ruthar as he pours the wine. The pop of a cork seems to calm her heightened frustrations. "I really did think we were all going to die. Part of me thought you were dead already, and we were only going to recover your body. Gruesome times. I'm glad none of it came to pass." 

Ruthar hoists the now-filled glasses and offers one to Ina'thia. He leans upon the edge of the desk, raising his up for a small toast. "Here's to being not as dead as we should be."

Ina'thia leans on the other edge of the desk and accepts the glass, eagerly toasting. "Here's to being too stubborn to die, no matter what is thrown in our paths." 

Ruthar clinks the glass and takes a long sip, the bite of the old wine both a comfort and a memory. He looks out to the sea, holding his glass. "There is so much to discuss, even some recent things that are worth mentioning. I don't quite know where to begin - so many questions spring to mind."

Ina'thia takes a long sip of the wine as well. It's everything in her power not to drink it all in one go, but instead, savor the flavor. Just as she intended to savor the company and the locale.  - 

Ina'thia turns to face Ruthar. "You know you can ask me anything, Ruthar. You're my best friend, and always have been. A brother, even. No secrets." 

Ruthar smiles against his glass as he takes another sip. "I know," he says softly, looking down into the wine itself. "And you have no idea how good that feels to hear," he offers, thinking of recent events. "I don't think I saw you at all since the decommissioning, then the next moment I hear you've departed entirely. So what's your story? You absolutely must have had a reason."

Ina'thia can't help herself; she takes that next long drink, and soon enough, the glass is empty. She holds it out for Ruthar to refill, because this story requires alcohol. And lots of it. "Well, it's a long one... I went directly back to Kul Tiras under the Horde's banner, in and around Stormsong Valley. Bloody battles. I retired from active duty not long after, and fooled myself into thinking I could do diplomacy and politics on a Magister's arm. Or was he on my arm? Hard to tell, really." 

Ruthar gingerly takes the empty glass from her digits and just passes her the bottle. He doesn't interrupt the tale.

Ina'thia takes the glass back, but doesn't drink just yet. "I lived in Magister Everblaze's manor for some time... and I thought the monotony was getting to me. I started hearing things, at first. Then I began seeing them. Just little shadows from the corner of my eye. Then I couldn't see or hear or dream of anything but -him- and -his- Empire. I was losing it, Ruthar. Fuck. I had to leave. What if I attacked him? Retired Knight-Lord murders esteemed Magister! Or worse, Syrie and Gatto or their kid?" 

 “I -had- to leave.”

Ruthar considers that for a moment. "Did you find the source of such thoughts and whispers?"

Ina'thia gives Ruthar an odd look over her wine glass, "...It was the old god N'zoth. Shortly after I left, spires and faceless ones started appearing everywhere." 

Ruthar blinks at that. "You...you're serious? I expected some sort of trick of the Magister, not the efforts of an Old God."

Ina'thia nods once, "Bey'ron is an absolutely insufferable asshole, but I know he would never do that to me. He was actually very kind to me while we were together. No... I was vulnerable, emotionally, after the Guard was decommissioned. Easy prey for an old god."

Ruthar looks at her with a truly concerned expression. "I'm sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how difficult those whispers were to silence. I heard so many stories from Kul Tiras, but I think you are the first I've spoken to with direct experience."

Ina'thia takes another long drink of wine, "It was a bloodbath, Ruthar. We've seen our share of combat with the Guard, but it was always for the good of Quel'Thalas or the world. We killed everyone. Farmers in their fields, their wives, their children. Even the cattle. No survivors. No resources. Burnt it all to the ground on the Warchief's order.”

Ruthar sighs, looking down into his wine. "I would have done anything for her," he admits. "She was my Ranger-General. I swore an oath that I held so firmly." He looks to her, his gaze supportive. "I would have done the very same."

Ina'thia watches Ruthar closely, "...She was -our- Ranger-General. Farstrider or not, we all loved and admired her. Either way... I left, and I went to Kun-Lai. It's a place that has brought me peace in tumultuous times past." 

Ruthar nods. "Of course. Our. Hard to tell who still sees it that way after everything." He finishes his glass and slowly pours another. "And how was the Summit? I haven't been to Pandaria since I had a nasty incident with the mantid so many years back."

Ina'thia looks out over the harbor. "Still steep and cold as fuck. I climbed on foot, fell face-down in the snow and was dragged the rest of the way on a sled pulled by grummles." 

Ruthar raises an eybrow at that. "And yet here you stand. I assume the mission was a success?"

Ina'thia looks down at her fingertips, "Had to recover from the frostbite and exposure, first. Stayed at the temple for a few months. I was in a bad way, Ruthar. Bad. I snapped out of it when the temple was attacked and I got punched in the face by another sin'dorei who was there. We fought back the faceless ones, and I chose to continue the fight. I've been everywhere hunting them. Tanaris. Silithus. Uldum. Un'goro. All of Kalimdor, and then some." 

Ruthar nods slowly, his eyebrows still raised. "I will fully admit that this was not the story I was expecting in the least. Amazing that you could face N'Zoth's agents directly and live to tell the tale. For how long did you fight the n'raqi?"

Ina'thia purses her lips thoughtfully, then takes another sip of wine. "...Years, I think. I lost time for parts of it. Don't you fucking repeat that, either, or I'll never get reinstated." 

Ruthar nods. "Duly noted," he says quickly. "So when did you return from it, then?"

Ina'thia rolls one shoulder, "...When I set foot back in Quel'Thalas. I took the longest route possible. Boats and zeppelins and mountain and forest trails. Gave myself every opportunity to turn around, and I kept walking. Figured I'd made it this far... it was really time to come home. Last week.”

Ruthar blinks, lowering his wineglass. "That is the kind of tale I would tell younglings at the Retreat. But here you are," he gestures to her form with his wineglass. "Alive to tell it yourself. I...don't know what to say." He lowers his glass, looking her

Ruthar over for signs of the experience. "Your return is that much more pleasing after hearing what you were up against."

Ina'thia seems to be in remarkably good health at a glance, all things considered. "Mm. And here I am, after I survived all of that, too afraid to talk to my exes. I'd rather take the years of solitude and fighting literal monsters." 

Ruthar manages a smirk at that. "You can go to the very end of the world and fight monsters of untold power, and yet you are still you." He takes a sip of wine. "Speaking of, I've had interactions with said exes it seems."

Ina'thia 's ears droop a little bit in absolute embarrassment. "For fuck's sake. I need more wine." With that, she knocked back the rest of her second glass.

Ruthar laughs at that fully, knocking back his own and taking the empty glasses. He begins to uncork the second bottle. "But, before -that-," he begins, pausing his uncorking of the wine. "I'm...sorry for all of that. Truly." He sighs. "But what I am sorry about most is not being there to help. I'm not sure what I would have done if I had heard you were truly lost, but I know that I did not do anything to mitigate any of that. You deserve better from your friends." He finishes uncorking the wine and pours a fresh pair of very full glasses.

Ina'thia finally looks at Ruthar directly, with the unmistakable intensity of the Blood Knight he's known for years and years. Emboldened by the wine, of course. "Stop it, Ruthar. Don't pity me and don't blame yourself. I didn't -want- to be found. Sometimes, we have to do things on our own. Get lost. Be shattered. Put back the pieces. When I was ready to be found, I came back. And you were the first to find me... and I'm forever grateful for that." 

Ruthar looks out across the sea once more. "It's not that I pity you, and I entirely agree - such a pilgrimage can be important for self-reflection and soul recrafting. It's more about what you said earlier, something that seems to be a common theme." He takes a quick sip as he conjures the direct quote. "Your vulnerability after the decommissioning. That's where I feel the most guilty. I should have been there in that aftermath - for you, for everyone." He shakes his head. "It may not have actually changed anything, but the guilt feels very real. I suppose I'm just trying to do my own soul-rebuilding.”

Ina'thia sips at her refilled glass of wine. She's quiet for a long while, listening to Ruthar as she thinks on his words. "...We all lost something precious that day. Some more than most. We both should have been there. For each other, for the others." 

“I ran away, thinking I wasn't wanted.”

Ruthar looks down into his glass and then far across the sea. "Wasn't wanted," he repeated quietly. "I suppose therein lies the issue then, hmm?" He sighs. "Nothing could be further from the truth, Ina'thia." He looks to her directly. "Nothing. I may not have been the best to show it, but you are wanted. You are cared about. You are loved." His eyes glisten slightly with the sun of Quel'Danas through the balcony. "And it really is so- damn- good to have you back."

Ina'thia watches Ruthar quietly. Her remaining eye seems to shimmer just a little bit, but the ever-stalwart Blood Knight is skilled at hiding all emotions other than her frustration, anger or exasperation. "The mind plays tricks on us, Ruthar, especially when under influence of something as terrible as an old god. I know in my heart of hearts that you're speaking the truth, and have only spoken truths. But the me of seven years ago still wouldn't have believed you. That's over, though... in the past." 

“I'm looking to the future.”

Ruthar nods, his fingers tapping against the wineglass. "And the only reason it is in the past is because you pushed onward. I truly hope you never forget that." He lifts his glass again with a gentle smile. "To the future, then."

Ina'thia reaches her glass over to touch it against Ruthar's, smirking a bit as they make a little 'clink!' noise. "What are -your- plans for the future?"

Ruthar chuckles. "I haven't given much thought to -my- future, to be perfectly honest. I can only assume that I will continue to serve the Kingdom in whatever capacity I am able." He takes a sip, seemingly more relaxed after releasing the weight from his chest. "I can, however, speak to the immediate future. There are some things in motion that are worth mentioning."

Ina'thia quirks a brow at Ruthar. "Things in motion? Go on..." 

Ruthar places his glass down, refilling it. He raises an inquisitive eyebrow to Ina'thia as he holds the bottle toward her glass.

Ina'thia finishes the rest of her wine, holding out her empty glass for another refill. A gentle dusting of red is starting to form over her cheeks. She would undoubtedly be sleeping in this office once again. "Seriously. What's going on?" 

Ruthar finishes filling the glasses and sets the wine bottle down. "Unexpectedly, quite a bit," he begins. "I had a meeting with Farstrider leadership in the Farstriders' Square not more than week ago at this point. As I began to depart to return to Valdrakken, I found myself face to face with Magister Everblaze. He had pressing information, it turns out."

Ina'thia does her best to not visibly flinch at the mention of Bey'ron. Now that she's three glasses of wine deep, it's harder to temper and hide her emotions. "Bey'ron -always- has pressing information, and it usually involves him climbing over someone else for-

Ina'thia - power." She rolls her eye, ever annoyed by the politics of Magisters.

Ruthar nods. "I would assume the same, naturally. But this was different." Ruthar sighs, looking down into the wine as his expression turns downward. "It seems that Li-Mei is a deserter in a very real sense."

Ina'thia 's other brow raises to match her inquisitive look, shifting it to genuine surprise. "...Truly? I never would have expected... she was always so loyal. Like a weird little hatchling, at times, but still loyal." 

Ruthar nods. "Truly. Admitted by her own mouth, as it turns out." He shakes his head. "Her tale is not dissimilar to your own, to be quite honest. After the decommissioning, it appears that she was a bit lost and became disenfranchised with leadership. She departed without a trace after the Fourth War. We thought her dead and updated her record accordingly, but that seems to have been in error. She reached out to Bey'ron for help returning to Quel'Thalas. He obliged, for a price."

Ina'thia furrows her brow, "Well... I had the sense to retire from active duty, at least. I was never marked AWOL." Still, she frowns. "What is Bey'ron having her do to earn her place back here?" 

Ruthar shrugs. "Something about 16 years of service or what have you. Honestly, I'm not even sure what entails." He takes another sip. "Regardless, Magistrix Starfrost is involved as well. It was really great to see her, despite the circumstances. She will be doing a magical investigation into Li-Mei's whereabouts. That particular data will help the Farstriders determine what her next moves are."

Ina'thia can't help but smile over her glass of wine, "Shit, Syrie's a full Magistrix now? I'm happy for her..." her thoughts then trail back to Li-Mei, and she sighs again. "Probably ironing his dresses and other mundane nonsense. Still, though... I hadn't thought of what would become of everyone else after the Guard was decommissioned. I'm saddened to hear that Li-Mei struggled so much."

Ruthar nods. "It weighs heavily," he admits, taking another sip. "I promoted her myself, even trained her a bit. She was...is quite talented. I don't know how this will shake out, but here we are."

Ina'thia sets her glass of wine down on the table, atop the turned over decommissioning notice. "Give her a proper hearing, let her serve consequences and earn her place back. Just as I have to earn mine. Part of picking up our shattered pieces is facing the consequences, isn't it?" 

Ruthar nods. "Indeed it is. Sadly, this one isn't up to me. Due to our professional history, I would need to recuse myself from any such proceedings. Nothing to do at this point but to wait, really."

“The silver lining here, however, is that I got the chance to reconnect with both Starfrosts.”

Ina'thia also can't help but cringe at the mention of the Starfrosts. "And both of those things are why we have wine, Ruthar. Lots and lots of wine." 

Ruthar smirks. "You know I have it in spades. But, do tell. From how he speaks of you, it seems like there is a story."

Ina'thia 's lip curls at the idea of telling that particular story. "It was stupid, embarrassing, and wildly inappropriate bullshit that happened after the Guard was decommissioned. Gattius was jealous and I was angry. I don't know if we'll ever be able to speak to each other civilly ever again." 

“It seems that you both harbor a similar sentiment, then,” Ruthar offers.

In’athia offers a sigh. “Yeah... I imagine we probably do. It's fucked up, Ruthar. -I- fucked up. And him being mad at me is a consequence. I've endured worse. I'll live.”

Ruthar looks at her for a moment, but doesn't press the subject. "Syrie, on the other hand, sends her best. I told them both that I was following a lead to find you, so she asked me to relay her regards should I be successful."

Ina'thia smiles warmly at that, but it's a small sort of smile. "Thanks for covering for me. I don't know if I could handle seeing her anytime soon, either. She's got a kid now, it's all weird. I'm bad at this, okay? Give me a sword and an entire legion of enemies to fight, and I'll be fine." 

Ruthar scoffs. "Perhaps you are bad at it, but at least you make an effort for better or worse, speaks to a strength I falter with." He takes a sip. "That said, one final piece of new information. After Syrie and Gattius departed last evening, I happened upon Raynell A'laria in the woods of all people."

“The cosmos work in mysterious ways, really.”

Ina'thia 's mouth actually hangs open at that, "A'laria? Truly? Holy shit... everyone's coming back. All at once. The cosmos is right. Next thing you know, we'll see Calthos and Hylaudius and the world will have truly ended." 

Ruthar laughs out loud at that. "Now that would be...something," he says tactfully. “I didn't get much time with A'laria, sadly, but yes - she is returned. I do look forward to speaking with her further. By the look of her, there is quite a story to be had.”

“If they were to truly appear,” Ina’thia replies, “I think I'd die on the spot. Die dead. Cease to exist. Now, A'laria... hers is a story I would like to hear.

Ruthar chuckles as he finishes another glass. "Indeed. Though, I suspect you will hear it before I do. She was sporting the Blood Knight colours, afterall."

Ina'thia actually smiles at that, "...Good. I'm glad she still wears them. Hopefully I'm reinstated soon and can speak with her more easily." 

Ruthar nods. "If I can be of any assistance with all that, do let me know. Speaking of," he says as he picks up the now-empty bottles. "Where are you staying?"

Ina'thia puzzles out Ruthar's question, to which the answer seemed quite obvious. "...Tonight? Here. I can't be fucked to travel anywhere else right now. Tomorrow, I'll be laying in the years of dust in my apartment in the city." 

Ruthar looks around the dusty office, noting the distinct lack of comfort. "To Argus with that, you're not staying here." He gathers the bottles and takes the glasses. "Come on, I'll put you up in the inn across the way. They've got some nice beds."

Ina'thia had already started leaning on the table like she was going to curl up and sleep there. She groans loudly, but ultimately follows Ruthar. "Fine, if you insist... I guess it'd be nice to not be stiff in the morning..." 

Ruthar gathers the bottles and glassware and throws them in his pack before assisting the inebriated Ina'thia out of the former Guard headquarters. Fortunately, none of the Shattered Sun pay them any mind, most likely due to the tabard Ruthar still sports as they move toward the inn. After a quick discussion with Inaara, a nice room overlooking the Isle’s scenery is prepared for Ina’thia for some well-deserved rest.

Ruthar departed once Ina’thia was settled, returning to the former Phoenix Guard headquarters, his head beginning to throb in the wine’s aftermath. He climbed the stairs once more, making his way to the top of the building to look upon the meeting room where so much happened. As he walked around, faces and images danced through his mind, memories, both fond and painful, swirling around his head as he recalled his many companions within the Guard.

He moved over to the broken office door, the latch cracked by Ina’thia’s gusto. With the security of the office compromised, Ruthar rummaged for a dusty box to collect the paperwork left behind. He overturned the decommissioning notice with a sigh, placing it in the box first as he stared down upon it. So much had changed with one simple parchment.

After the contents of the office were collected, he scribbled a note that he left with Innkeeper Inaara for when Ina’thia rose the next morning.

Ina’thia, With the lock and latch of your former office broken, I gathered the Guard documents and will place them in a secure location for the time being, most likely with the other high-level Farstrider records in Silvermoon. Do let me know if you need them. I do find it difficult to put in words how great it is to see you returned, so I’ll leave it there. Looking forward to more enjoyable evenings. Thank you for the opportunity to speak freely - it is an unfortunate rarity of late. Rest well, you know where to find me. Ruthar

Ruthar thanked Inaara once more for her efforts and informed her of the broken door - he didn’t want anyone thinking that the office was ransacked. He left a sum of gold with her to ensure that it was taken care of, as well as a few pieces for her troubles. With a nod of appreciation, the Ranger Captain departed Quel’Danas to return to Silvermoon.

@inathia

@thefugitivemango @syrielle @arosesrambles @raynellalaria for mentions

[ronaestrider]

An Unexpected Update

Ruthar departs the interior of the Rangers' Lodge along with a series of other Farstrider leaders. They all look somewhat worn after what must have been a lengthy meeting of the minds. His bow and helmet are racked inside the lodge.

Bey'ron leans up against the doorway. "It always smells so... -rugged- in here, don't you think? I've always appreciated how Farstriders aren't afraid to get their hands dirty." he smirks, eyes meeting Ruthar's.

Ruthar halts in his departure, shifting to the side nearer Bey'ron. "Magister Everblaze," he begins, bowing his head in a small greeting. He turns a slight smirk. "Rugged is a...pleasant way to put it." He gestures behind him. "Please, come in - it has certainly been some time."

[Bey'ron]: Too long, I'd submit.

Bey'ron takes Ruthar up on the offer, and steps past him to get into the Lodge proper. He pulls back his hood as he looks around, admiring the trophies and displays.

Ruthar folds his hands behind his back, his gaze following the Magister's. He stands to his left but behind him slightly. "Too long, indeed. I hope the aftermath of the Incarnate dealings has been agreeable to you and your own."

[Bey'ron]: Mm, it resolved rather satisfactorily, I should think.

[Ruthar]: It's good to be back in Silvermoon, in any case. Even if temporarily.

Bey'ron sets his staff aside-- it hovers upright and in place. He turns to Ruthar, and smiles. "It always is, isn't it? The city itself defines the word 'home' for me. I could never imagine leaving it for too long."

[Bey'ron]: Though, I suppose you'd have to depart, if only for a short time, to truly appreciate the feeling of returning. That sense of peace, hmm? Of belonging.

Bey'ron shakes his head. "I suppose, in that way, I envy Miss Li-Mei."

Ruthar nods in agreement. "Fortunately, the return to home is usually trivial, thanks to the expert work of the Magistry." He holds a finger aloft to garner the attention of a newer recruit. "Can I get you a beverege, Magis..." Ruthar let's that hang in the air as Bey'ron offers Rosi's name.

[Bey'ron]: Oh, nothing for me, thank you.

Beyron grins at you wickedly.

Ruthar puts his finger down and the confused looking recruit scurries away. Ruthar reaches into his hauberk to produce a handwritten note. He unfolds it and passes it over to Bey'ron. "I have to say, I'm surprised to hear that name. Doubly so after receiving this. I had my doubts about who it was from, but I doubt this is mere happenstance."

Bey'ron accepts the note, and looks it over. "--Tch... seems someone spoiled the surprise." he frowns lightly.

[Bey'ron]: Just as well. My first instinct was to come to you about it, of course. If anyone would want to know about a Farstrider deserter returning to the High Kingdom, I knew it'd be you.

Bey'ron hands the missive back. "Given your mutual history, of course."

Ruthar takes that in for a moment, accepting the missive and returning it beneath his tabard. He smooths the fabric before replying.

[Ruthar]: I had assumed she had fallen in combat after reading the report of her absence, a rather unfortunate loss - such a promising Farstrider, it was a pleasure to promote her to the rank myself.

Ruthar sighs, glancing over toward nothing in particular. "Deserter? Now...that is something else."

Bey'ron raises his brow. "Oh? You didn't know... well, I suppose assuming she'd died valiantly in defense of the High Kingdom would weigh better than her turning her back on it." he sighs.

Ruthar 's demeanor darkens somewhat. "Indeed," he replies slowly. "I assume you have the pertinent details, then?"

[Bey'ron]: But of course. And I'm happy to share them with you, Captain. That's why I'm here.

Bey'ron waves a hand. "Now, you'll have to forgive me for not delivering her here in person. Frankly... I'm not entirely sure what you'd want done with her. So let me tell you what's happened, and give a recommendation, hmm?"

[Bey'ron]: To my surprise, I encountered her on the Dragon Isles. Hiding away from here. I came to learn she'd left Quel'Thalas sometime during the Fourth War. Something about serving the Dark Lady, albeit indirectly, must not have sat all too well with her.

Ruthar nods, gesturing over toward a desk, his mind moving just barely too quickly to notice the mistake in his title. "Before we continue, and if you'll allow, I'd like to take a record of the account to update our files." He slides a quill into his fingers as he looks expectantly to Bey'ron.

[Bey'ron]: --Ah, of course. By all means, Captain.

Ruthar quickly slides a blank piece of parchment over and begins to scribble on it. "Ranger Captain," he says more firmly than he intended. He writes quickly but pauses to add a question. "Where, exactly, in the Dragon Isles did you locate her initially?"

Bey'ron clasps his hands behind his back. "Well, my sources located her out and about. But I approached her in person for the first time just outside Valdrakken."

[Ruthar]: We have a Farstrider encampment outside of the city, as I'm sure you are aware. That explains the note easily enough.

[Bey'ron]: Cautious little thing. I'm surprised she didn't flee immediately. But alas, we shared a brief dialogue, and I was able to glean that she left in a disagreement with Horde leadership.

Ruthar continues to write, pausing again. "If it were a matter as trivial as that, I would think there would be record of it somewhere."

[Bey'ron]: I have no such record, I'm afraid. To be frank... I hadn't given her much thought, until I heard she'd been seen around the Dragon Isles.

Bey'ron shakes his head. "Nonetheless, I'm a firm believer in second chances. So I offered her a chance to put her expertise to good use. And if you can find nothing else to be proud of in this tale, take pride in the fact that she certainly delivered."

[Bey'ron]: That's when she approached me about coming back to Quel'Thalas. She sent me a missive, and asked to meet.

Ruthar nods, writing the offered details after dipping the quill in an inkwell. "She sent you a missive after you met face-to-face and assigned her an assignment?"

[Bey'ron]: Mm, that's correct.

Ruthar scratches out a few words and amends the document. "I have to say, Magister, that I am surprised that your first reaction was not to inform the Farstriders before sending her on an errand. I assume it was something of great importance to Quel'Thalas's actions in the Isles?"

Bey'ron shrugs. "I'm sure it's not quite what you would have done, but I saw an opportunity to set her back on the right path. And she took it. If she hadn't, I would have brought this exchange to light much sooner."

[Bey'ron]: I'm afraid I can't go into details about the assignment. But I can tell you that her choosing to accept and complete it most assuredly met with Quel'Thalas' best interests.

Ruthar nods, accepting the reasoning. "Testing the heart of a deserter is an acceptable play, though I'm sure the Farstriders would have preferred performing such a test themselves." He writes a few more words. "I appreciate your diligence, personally." He finishes a few lines. "I have it noted that she performed duties for the Magistry under the direction of yourself. I assume that will suffice."

[Bey'ron]: It very well should.

[Bey'ron]: In any case, that's when she reached out via the aforementioned missive, and asked to meet. We discussed what exactly it would take for her to return to Quel'Thalas under honorable conditions.

Ruthar jots that down and looks to Bey'ron. "Respectfully, that may be for the Farstrider leadership to decide, should more details come out once she is spoken to. However, I would like to hear the details of that conversation for the record."

Bey'ron smirks, and shakes his head. "Before all that, we've reached the point of this conversation where I'd like to hear -your- thoughts, Ranger Captain."

[Bey'ron]: For all intents and purposes, you -are- the Farstrider leadership. Were she in your custody now... what would your decision be regarding her fate?

Beyron peers at you searchingly.

Ruthar places down the quill next to the unfinished report. "Protocol demands more information first and foremost. I would need further information on her actions and whereabouts in the time since her departure. It would be of critical importance to ensure that any information that she was privy to was not improperly released. I would have suggested she be detained during that investigative period. Considering her departure was during the conflict of the Fourth War, there could be serious ramifications if she had offered information to the Alliance during that time of conflict."

Bey'ron nods firmly. "A sensible response. Protocol in full consideration of the security of Quel'Thalas. I'd expect nothing less from a Ranger Captain."

[Bey'ron]: But... now that you've recited the Farstrider Handbook for me, let's set that aside. Off the record...

Bey'ron steps forward, lowering his voice. "How would -you- like to see this resolved? You, Ruthar. Not Farstrider Captain Ronaestrider."

[Bey'ron]: I'm not certain how close you two were, but if her -crippling- fear of what you might think of all this is any indication, you two were close, hmm?

Bey'ron shakes his head. "Not suggesting anything untoward, mind you. A mentor-mentee relationship, at the very least."

Ruthar purses his lips, standing straighter. "If she finds herself mired in -crippling- fear over my reaction to this, then I fear that she has done something that would be very difficult for a Farstrider, potentially former in this case, to recover from. Regrettably, both my personal reaction as well as my official rests upon the truth of her absence."

[Bey'ron]: Mm. Insightful. Cautious. Admirable traits, indeed.

[Bey'ron]: You'd see justice done, whatever form it takes, hmm? Regardless of the ramifications it may have for you, personally. Commendable, most assuredly.

Bey'ron unclasps his hands and brings his arms in front of him, idly straightening his sleeves and adjusting his cuffs.

Ruthar nods, his expression stoic. "I would. It would not be the first time that duty had taken precendence over my personal relationships."

[Bey'ron]: I'm certain anyone with sense would see this was well beyond your control. I mean, yes-- you had a part in her training, vetting, and promotion. But all that can only reflect so poorly on you.

Bey'ron sighs. "Or the Phoenix Guard. Sun willing, her indiscretions won't soil the organization's good name. True heritage we all share, that."

Ruthar doesn't visibly react to that. "Indeed. Nor will this have been the first time a ranger's actions have potentially marred the image of myself or my associates. You and I can both attest that times of war can drive certain individuals to drastic action."

[Bey'ron]: That we can. We can only hope such context factors in to whatever external jurisidiction determines Farstrider Li-Mei's fate.

Ruthar nods, reaching for the quill once more. "Agreed. Now, to your subsequent conversation with Li-Mei. Did you offer her a pathway forward for her desire to return home?"

Bey'ron exhales sharply. "--Ah. Well, that all seems rather irrelevant now, doesn't it? It's no more up to me than it is up to you what pathway to redemption lies before Li-Mei, is it? We'd have to handle that internally-- and discreetly-- for that."

[Bey'ron]: A curious alternative, to be sure.

Bey'ron plucks some imaginary debris from his robe. "Certainly an attractive option, I'd have to admit..."

Ruthar considers that for a moment, the quill still in-hand. "I suppose. Though, I have made note of your conversation with her here already." He glances around the Lodge to anyone nearby. "It would be preferred to wrap that up in some manner to formally close this particular parchment," he offers slightly quieter.

Bey'ron grins, and nods. "Of course, as you say. I told her that, were it up to me, she'd need to show in a tangible and unmistakable way that she is loyal to the High Kingdom, and felt deep remorse for any past falterings of that loyalty."

[Bey'ron]: After that, she departed. To where, I cannot say.

Ruthar nods, appreciating the Magister's understanding. He adds the final words and some filligree to the end of the document before signing it. He offers the quill to Bey'ron and slides the parchment over. "If you would review and sign, please - I will see this is processed formally." He lowers his voice slightly. "After which time I'd be happy to discuss further off-the-record."

[Bey'ron]: Certainly.

Bey'ron accepts the parchment, and sets it flat on the table. His eyes scan over the words, carefully-- quill in hand, at the ready. "I trust this will be filed away properly? I know it can be frustrating when such affidavits go missing at the Spire..."

Bey'ron nods once, and signs the parchment.

Ruthar nods, "You have my word, Magister Everblaze. Paperwork has, for better or worse, become one of my strong suits." He allows the ink to dry a moment before folding the parchment and sealing it with a red wax seal. "I appreciate you bringing this here personally. I realize how simple it would have been to send a note or a delegate - your offer of time and information is certainly noted and deeply appreciated."

[Bey'ron]: Ah, but of course! I'll admit I have a bit of a soft spot for the Phoenix Guard and its alumni. This issue, most certainly called for a personal involvement, I think.

Bey'ron clasps his hands behind his back. "Do keep me informed as to how this all plays out, hmm? I'd love to stay and discuss it further, but I'm needed back in the Spire. No rest for the wicked, you know." he smirks.

Ruthar lifts the sealed document from the table and nods. "Indeed I shall. I will get this submitted to have Li-Mei's record updated accordingly. Perhaps we can arrange an appointment in a few days time to...continue the discussion? Perhaps somewhere

Ruthar more...comfortable." He chooses his words carefully.

[Bey'ron]: That sounds most agreeable, Ranger Captain. We'll see it done.

Ruthar bows his head respectfully. "Thank you again for your time, Magister Everblaze. It is good to see you again. Sunwell guide."

[Bey'ron]: Mm, and you. Always a pleasure.

Bey'ron turns, and takes his staff up from where he left it lingering. "By the by... have you stopped in to visit Lady and Doctor Starfrost recently? On the subject of old alumni, of course."

[Bey'ron]: If you haven't, perhaps you should pay them a visit. Always a treat, visiting old friends. Who knows? You might even bump into some you didn't expect to see...

Ruthar shakes his head. "Sadly, my attention has been focused whole-heartedly on our efforts in Valdrakken. I should make a point to rectify that now that things are subsiding on the Isles. I was always very fond of Lady Starfrost." He considers the addendum, searching for the right words. "I look forward to it greatly," he adds, his mind considering a few possibilities.

[Ruthar]: Do send my very best if the opportunity presents itself.

[Bey'ron]: Likewise, should you encounter them before my next opportunity.

Bey'ron nods once, then pulls his hood up again. "Shorel'aran, Ranger Captain."

Ruthar nods, "You have my word. Al diel shala, Magister Everblaze."

[ronaestrider]

The Magister's Report

"Silvermoon Ranger says: "Straight and true, that's the way," repeats the dutiful Silvermoon ranger in Farstriders' Square.

Ruthar offers some advice to the young recruits. "Just a little firmer in the hand is all, and a touch higher. Once again."

“Or, set that silly stringed stick aside and study magic,” Bey'ron adds, smirking.

Ruthar looks over his spectacles to Bey'ron. "Ah, Lord Everblaze. Arcane shot comes a little later on, I'm afraid." He gives the Farstrider a pat on the shoulder. "Excuse me," he offers softly, shifting away from the training ground.

Bey'ron follows wordlessly, stepping aside and out of earshot of the fledgling Farstriders.

Ruthar nods respectfully in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you quite this soon, Magister. I hope all is moving along well?"

“Mm, quite well. Magistrix Starfrost finished her analysis of the ruby communicator.” Bey'ron holds out his hand, palm up. It's...empty. But not for long, as a flash of emerald flame briefly engulfs his hand, then vanishes leaving a miraculously un-singed scroll.

Ruthar watches as the scroll appears in the Magister's hand. "Lady Starfrost continues to amaze with her talents and expedience. Do send her my most sincere thanks for what must have been a laborious task." He looks down to the scroll. "Is this the full account or a summary of the findings?"

Bey'ron lifts and lowers the scroll, as if weighing it. It's... quite a roll of parchment. "I'm told it encapsulates everything. From the moment of desertion, to my encounter with her in Valdrakken."

Ruthar raises his hand. "May I?"

“I insist. I grow weary of holding it.”

Ruthar smirks at that, taking hold of the report. It is indeed a hefty heap of parchment. He gently removes the seal and takes a look at the first page to find the smallest of writing squeezed onto the pages. "Well, this will take some time to digest. I don't suppose the Magistrix offered you a summary before handing it over?"

“From what she told me... it's a rather boring read. Our wayward Farstrider friend spent most of her days wandering the wilderness. Restocking supplies every now and then, but nothing even remotely hinting at Alliance sympathies or connections.” Bey'ron shrugs, idly inspecting his gloves. "Four years of camping under the stars and drinking water from streams. Can you imagine such mind-numbing monotony?"

Ruthar doesn't seem as elated as one may expect at the news, his mind moving quickly. "It is hard to imagine, to be honest. A Farstrider of such skill and dedication shifting to a semi-nomadic lifestyle for an extended period." He holds the parchment up. "This report certainly holds the truth, in any case."

“Indeed. The mundane, boring truth. With how contrite and self-depreciative she was, I expected -something- compromising, if I'm being honest. I suppose her guilt really does stem from a betrayal of her sense of duty.” Bey'ron sighs, as if disappointed. "But not any -actual- betrayal."

Ruthar looks down to the scroll. "If one admits to defecting, you would think there would be a strong reason for it."

“Stronger than turning her back on her people? Her friends? Her mentor?”

Ruthar nods. "Indeed. I would expect there to be something truly weighty to cause such an act." He sighs. "Alas, here we are. She will still have to testify, of course. If, for some reason, these contents don't match her statements, that could be an entirely different situation."

Bey'ron raises his brow. "You think she may be lying about having kept the ruby on her person at all times?"

“I merely posit that there are many possibilities and factors to take into account. If she agrees to a hearing and her testimony matches the contents of the report quite effectively, then I think this matter could be resolved quite quickly.”

Bey'ron nods slowly. "Mm. So be it. I'll bring her to you this week, and we'll put this matter to rest once and for all."

“Is she currently in residence at your manor? I will have the Farstriders draft up a notice that will need to be sent her way informing her of next steps.”

“My manor? Certainly not. She's rather free-range, going where she pleases. I have my man Kynlea Sunstriker escorting her, keeping me apprised of her movements and locations. Last word I received this morning, she was in the Twilight Highlands.”

Ruthar nods. "Of course, though should I assume you have a way to get a missive into the hands of your agent Sunstriker?"

Bey'ron smirks. "Naturally."

Ruthar nods. "Very good, I'll have the missive sent your way for proper forwarding. Do you have the gem with you as well?"

“Mm, I do. Would you like to keep possession of it as well?”

“It could be considered evidence, so best to keep it paired with the report if possible.”

Bey'ron nods once. He snaps his fingers-- and a rift of darkness tears open beside him. Thannos materializes from the darkness, holding a small decorative box. The creature holds it out for Ruthar to take.

Ruthar looks to the formerly-bartending minion with a small hint of disappointment before reaching down to take the box. He lifts the lid to ensure that there is indeed the necklace in question within.

Bey'ron snaps again. Thannos emits a hollow echoing groan... before vanishing from sight! The box does, indeed, hold the ruby necklace in question.

Ruthar gently closes the lid. He opens to thank the creature but realizes it is now gone. "Excellent, it looks like everything is in order. Your work has been and continues to be of great service, Magister."

“Mm, I'm well aware. Magistrix Starfrost helped as well, of course. I'll pass along your appreciation.”

Ruthar nods. "Please do. I would imagine that you would both be encouraged to participate in the proceedings considering your involvement, should you be willing."

“I expected nothing less. In truth... I worry Miss Li-Mei will flounder and panic on her own before a Farstrider court. Given how generous and invested I am... I'm of a mind to serve as her Counsel in this matter.” Bey'ron sighs. "She's very obviously wracked with guilt. I've seen even the most stoic of Spellbreakers crumble and break down in testimonials. It's for the best, I think you'll agree. I imagine you'd wish to yourself, but... given your history with Miss Li-Mei and position among the Farstriders, such would appear... improper, hmm?”

Ruthar raises an eyebrow at that. "She would of course be welcome to include someone to serve on her behalf, though I'm not sure the Farstriders will see the one who reported her return and assigned her protection as impartial. Not to mention that she is in your service, now.”

Bey'ron smirks. "You're only pointing out further reasons it would be -prudent- for me to serve as her Counsel. She came to me, seeking guidance. She works under my employ. Counsel isn't meant to be impartial, Ranger Captain. That's the duty of those passing judgment.” Bey'ron chuckles, and shakes his head. "I'd be poor Counsel indeed, if I didn't argue from the grounds of her presumed innocence, don't you think?"

Ruthar taps his lips at that. "Perhaps," he offers. "I will pass such an offer along with the evidence. Should Li-Mei reply to the missive with a request for you to serve as her representative, then I am sure it will be fairly considered. Certainly your status in Silvermoon speaks volumes as well.”

“Of course. The decision is, ultimately, hers. Should she wish to represent herself in this matter, I'll merely attend.”

Ruthar nods. "We shall see how she replies to the proceedings. If her return to the ranks is truly what she desires, than I would expect nothing less than her full cooperation."

“Certainly so. I'll be sure to pass the summons along to her, through Sunstriker.”

Ruthar nods. "Excellent. I will get all this submitted presently. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening, Magister?"

Bey'ron shakes his head. "Nothing at present, no. But should something arise requiring your expertise or guidance, I'll not hesitate in asking." he smirks.

Ruthar removes his glasses. "Within reason, of course," he says, returning the smirk.

“Mm, of course. For now, harmonious cooperation between us is its own reward, don't you agree? Exemplary, even. If only it were so that the Magistry and Farstriders all worked together so well.”

“I do, and I do mean that sincerely. It is indeed great what can be achieved beyond the unfortunatley common pettiness.”

“All for the good of Quel'Thalas. Perhaps in time, such cohesion will be the rule, rather than the rare exception.” Bey'ron waves his hand, chuckling. "Ah, but we can wax philosophical another time. We both have much to do, yes?"

Ruthar nods. "We've come a long way, but there is always more work to be done. I appreciate your work setting such a strong example. I greatly look forward to continuing in kind. But yes, you are correct." He holds the report aloft with the box atop. "Much to do, indeed."

“I'll leave you to it, Farstrider Captain. Best wishes in reviewing that... verbose report.” Bey'ron stifles a chuckle. Barely. "Until we meet again, Sunwell guide."

Ruthar chuckles at that. "I've read worse. Sunwell guide, Magister. Do be on the lookout for the courier within the next few days."

Bey'ron bows his head politely, before turning to depart.