“Mister Fitzgerald..?” The aspiring sorceress’s small voice asked, uncertain of the choices she was making. Just behind her stood the Monk from earlier that had been rather protective when he had mentioned Miss Wells. Though regardless it was a good sign to hear from them so soon. The old man smiled warmly to the pair and gestured for them to join him at the small table shoved into the corner of the tavern.
“Yes, yes, please come join me. Order whatever you like.” His voice was deep and inviting as he looked to Dairon, “I apologize if I caused you concern earlier. Your guards haven’t been so inclined to grant me an audience and when I saw you all here I thought I couldn’t waste such an opportunity!” A belly laugh escaped the old man as the girls quietly shifted their way over to join him, “But enough about that, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
“How do you know I’m The Oracle?” Catisa blurted out before her partner could give her snide remark, who opted to simply scowl and fold her arms as she stared him down. “What does that even mean, anyway? And why me?!” Her voice shook as she demanded answers and only paused when the older gentleman held up a hand as though to interject.
“Well, Miss Wells I presume,” Waren started as he leaned forward with one arm braced against the table to hold himself up. “I do not know why any of us were chosen, but I do know that you are the anchor, the connection to this realm from the other side. Those nightmares that plague you are visions of a future yet to come and it is my goal to prevent it. I too was visited by a shadowy figure who told me I had an important role to play. To gather you up with the other servants and prevent this prophecy from taking root. To which I might add we should waste no time in beginning our search for.”
“Are you kidding?!” Dairon spat, “You expect us to just give you some kind of free pass because you claim to be some kind of Prophet?” The leather wrapped around the woman’s knuckles tightened audibly. Catisa’s brow knit with worry and reached out with one hand to attempt to help calm her partner.
Waren sighed as he was about to plead his case yet again to the young monk, but found himself cut off by the mage herself who turned to look her partner in the eyes as she spoke, “I believe him.” She started, “This cloaked figure keeps appearing in each and every dream no matter how the dream may differ from the last. Every time he appears he tells me to ‘Awaken’ and that it’s time. It has to be related, there’s no way this could just be a coincidence.”
The old man caught himself in awe of the presence that was emitted from the petite mage in that moment and had to wonder what potential truly lay beneath that well kept shell. Some deep power that resonated of something darker, just on the edges of her mind and out of reach. Dairon huffed and offered Catisa a pleading look before she finally nodded her resignation, “Alright. I trust you.”
“Thank you,” The aspiring sorceress grinned and turned around to address Waren once more, “So where do we start?”
He was taken aback by the sudden change in the course of the conversation, but it appeared that at last he had found the one. The true Oracle. “Well,” A smile found its way to his aged features as he settled back into his chair once more. “There’s the trouble. Outside of locating you, I’ve had little luck finding the others. The Seeker would probably know where to find them, but that trail fell cold long ago. I have heard a rumor of a Kaldorei that calls herself The Hand gone rogue in Darkshore, however. That’s where I was going to go next after I found you, but now I am beginning to think this might be a job better suited for younger… more versatile hands.” As he spoke he gestured toward the pair of women knowingly.
“Wha- I don’t know, is that all we have to go on?” Catisa asked with an arched brow after exchanging glances with Dairon.
“I heard the tale from one of those Kaldorei Sentinels. I expect you’ll gather more information by asking the locals, but I urge caution… The Hand is the most fierce of the Servants and the most loyal. Their role is that of the Enforcer.”
“I finally found her.” The large man grinned beneath that snow white beard of his and stood proud of his accomplishment upon the dirt road of Redridge’s mountain pass. A ways before him were the large impassive gates to the Estates of The Violet Bastion with the even more imposing structures that rose high above from behind it. Bright blue eyes that seemed far more youthful than the rest of the man gazed up at his destination as he lumbered forth with his old walking stick.
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