Passing the Torch
“Are you sure about this? You are an exalted hero to quite a few, even if other heroes may not know you that well.”
“It is for the better, but are you sure of this as well? You may end up having a cult following with how you led them to fight a war that almost claimed them once.”
As the fighting in Draenor concentrated heavily on Tanaan Jungle and the citadel within its Fel-corrupted heart, Sanctuary found itself in need of new aid as the veterans hailing from Azeroth previously to lend a hand were ready to pack up and let the world’s native denizens clean up the mess. Sure, some heroes would stick around to ensure Hellfire Citadel and the horrors within would not pose a threat to the world, but not as many were needed as they were with the initial steps of the war. Sanctuary found home within Ricardys’ joint garrison, offering supplies and people from the rebuilt village that migrated across Shadowmoon Valley. With the influx of helping hands, even if some were not exactly alive, more opportunities arose for Azeroth’s own troops and laborers from Darnassus and Stormwind to pack up and return home. Overlooking the merger in motion, the Dark Lord stood by the side of the Lady Lightbringer (as he would often refer to her as).
Her eye shifted up towards the Dark Lord’s head, even if the tall, armored, massive frame with dark metal shoulders protruding smoldering claws obstructed the view of the crowned, hooded head veiled by its own blood red emanations and darkness that obstructed even the most potent scrying from revealing his face. Her innate tone of a feral feline radiated a calm satisfaction as her dark, polished lips parted. “I’ve been waiting for this day, since it is about time my family steps away from all this war to teach, aid, and learn from others. Maybe some of the younger generation would like to learn of the Divine Flame if the traditional Holy Orders are too rigid or imposing for their tastes."
“An alternative to being a typical zealot?” As intimidating as the Dark Lord’s powerful voice was (even at a casual tone), the Lady Lightbringer did not embrace fear to his being. Instead, her lips curled into a smirk with amusement.
“Of course, my dear brother-in-law.” Her face slowly redirected back to the crowds in the heart of the garrison, witnessing partnerships and dealings back and forth between the new arrivals and those on the way out. “We need not any more surges of unwarranted zealotry. I’m sure those in the dark like yourself would appreciate not having more misguided souls turn blades and faith against yourselves unprovoked. --and for those that want to say your presence is provoking, that’s on their heads: not yours.”
“In any event, it’s time we stepped away from this mess and returned to our families.” The Dark Lord nodded following the suggestion, with the Lady Lightbringer nodding in return. “I’m sure the leaders of both cities will want resources back, but at this point this place can handle anything thrown at them. Let it be their new Sanctuary. I’ll catch you later.”
The two nodded once more as the Dark Lord called forth his companion, assuming the form of a steed of crimson energy and metal, taking mount before strolling away. As he left the new Sanctuary, a cloaked figure passed by. The Dark Lord took a moment to eye the newcomer due to what he sensed of the being, but kept to himself his perceptions. The figure quietly made its way through the busy crowds without drawing too much attention from the guards towards the steps to the main keep. The Lady Lightbringer arched a brow, along with several guards with her that caught wind of the stranger’s presence, carefully readying weapons while the Lady kept her sword and shield sheathed and slung.
“You were looking for a pupil, yes?” The voice was certainly ‘womanly’, matured with a perception of hope, yet touched with a bitter tale unspoken. The Lady could not help but arch a brow, curious to what she was sensing, but also amused by the turn of events...