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With little
else to impede their progress, the delegation crossed through the pass and into
a world that seemed a planet away from the barren wasteland they had just left.
The first indication was the thorny brambles gradually giving way to giant
fungi (thoroughly dried out and deadened, but giant fungi nonetheless) and the
bluish dusk continued to grow in intensity until an entire forest of towering
mushrooms – as thick as the oldest Ashenvale oaks, lit from below by their own
phosphorescent spore sacs – spread out before the travellers, watery channels
winding in a labyrinthine fen between the massive stalks. The road led straight
into the hauntingly beautiful swamp, and it wasn’t without effort that the
non-Draenei kept themselves from gawking openly at the dramatic change in
scenery.
The Ambassador
breathed out in a slow sigh. “Zangarmarsh,” he announced quietly. “The only
refuge and sanctuary that the Orcs of the Dark Horde could not penetrate in
their hunt for Velen and what remained of the Draenei. We learned to move with
the swamp waters, slip away like the wind, lay unmoving like the earth while
the fires of vengeance tore at our hearts.” He lowered his head and shook it
slowly, and it was obvious that he was fighting tears. “It was here that those
unfortunate ones afflicted by the Orcs’ fel taint began to … change.” He drew a
slight breath to recompose himself. “Those we now call Krokul – Broken – and
worse.” Theluin, as always keeping pace with the Ambassador, looked up at the
Draenei without a word, but with deep compassion and sympathy in his glowing,
turquoise eyes.
Eli threw a
wary glance at Tuan, halfway expecting an obtuse retort from the temperamental
woman, but she appeared to be quite occupied craning her head around to take in
the spectacular flora – if ‘flora’ was an adequate word for a forest made entirely
out of tall-stalked, alien fungi, interspersed with a marshland replete with
every form of natural phosphorescence imaginable.
Silence fell
among the travellers, but it was amply filled by the sounds of the swamp. The
buzz of insects, the distant chirps and calls of strange bog creatures and
predators, and the constant gurgle and trickle of swamp water being filtered
through iridescent, literally outlandish tubers growing in open air like
semi-transparent balloons of organic, bluish crystal. The ethereal atmosphere
was reinforced further by a light mist that suffused the air, reflecting and
refracting the red and turquoise glow from the broad mushroom heads high above
into the strong purple-aqua nuance that pervaded the marsh’s colour palette.
Soon enough
one could spot a structure ahead: the elegantly carved, freestanding wooden
archway so typical of Kaldorei architecture … except this one was flanked by
powerful, leather-armoured Tauren guardians, great war axes seemingly
shimmering with verdant energies clasped in broad fists. Once more the Exarchs
pulled to a halt, this time glancing behind them with a resigned expectation.
Without further ado, Theluin steered his Stormsaber up to the front of the
delegation, leading the way to the entrance of the Cenarion settlement.
The Moon
Priest saluted solemnly to the imposing wardens, who saluted back without a
word, continuing their silent vigil of the swamp as the delegation passed
underneath the archway. The settlement itself was not particularly lavish, but
it was purposeful – on their left was a moonwell, a female Tauren Druid
kneeling by its glimmering surface as a pair of ravens hovered above; on their
right were Night Elven traders and researchers sitting in tents or standing by
makeshift tables, crafting equipment or sorting through undocumented species of
herbs and plants. Across a short wooden causeway lay the settlement’s heart: a
tall watchtower and a single-floor inn, both of them Kaldorei-styled. Night
Elves and Tauren alike moved to and fro with familial ease, smoothly stepping
aside to allow the mounted company to pass.
Pulling to a
stop before the inn, Theluin was the first to dismount, closely followed by the
Draenei Ambassador; one of the Exarch’s adjutants stepping up to hold the
Ambassador’s elekk as the two diplomats approached the settlement’s leader who
had emerged at the top of the smoothly rounded stone ramp leading up to the
inn’s entrance.
“Welcome to
Cenarion Refuge,” she greeted with a polite nod. “I am Ysiel Windsinger, the
leader of this expedition. I take it you are travelling through?”
Theluin bowed
respectfully. “After a fashion, lady Windsinger,” he replied with his metered
baritone, gesturing to the Draenei accompanying him, who bowed elegantly as
well. “We are escorting a group of Exodar delegates to Shattrath, and were
informed of this expedition settlement by Earthbinder Galandria Nightbreeze
while travelling through the westernmost part of Hellfire Peninsula.”
Ysiel arched a
sculpted eyebrow in recognition. “The Earthbinder did volunteer over a month ago
to investigate a seismic disturbance in that area. We’ve received the
occasional report since. I take it she is doing well?”
“After the
circumstances, it would seem so, lady Windsinger.” The timbre in the elderly
Priest’s voice had taken on that particular discreet value that characterized a
typical diplomatic smooth-over. The expedition leader merely nodded her head
curtly, though the brief glimmer of steel in her eyes indicated that she was
not unaware of the recent developments.
Behind the two
representatives, the rest of the delegation had begun to dismount as well, the
Exarchs’ adjutants standing crisply to attention alongside their masters’
towering warsteeds. While Tuan seemed content to simply let Sandy wander, Eli determinedly
stepped up and offered the reins of both of the chargers to the resident stable
master – a burgundy-coloured Tauren male with calm eyes. It didn’t escape the
Paladin that the Exarchs were decidedly keeping their distance, their adjutants
remaining stoically in place with their wardens. Rosh’Falar on the other hand,
Theluin’s dark-furred Stormsaber, had already found itself a spot of hay to
flop down on and was even now snoozing idly on its stomach, still in full mount
plating.
The Draenei
Ambassador took the opportunity to step forward. “We do not intend to tarry,
Lady Ysiel,” he began smoothly. “Nevertheless, it would be a pleasure to
exchange some conversation. Many things have changed since my kin was forced to
flee this world, and any knowledge of the land would be of great advantage.”
Ysiel inclined
her head gracefully, a lightly ironic and surprisingly honest smile on her
lips. “We are very much aware that this settlement is for all intents and
purposes a base camp for our expedition’s undertakings, Your Excellence. While
we would certainly be able to arrange it, I am afraid our lodging will
inevitably be rather rudimentary.” She turned slightly, motioning to the
entrance behind her. “Still, allow me to invite you inside, if only for a short
while. Let it be known that the Cenarion Circle is far from incapable of
displaying hospitality.”
Ambassador and
Moon Priest bowed courteously and followed the expedition leader inside, tailed
by the two humans. The Exarchs and their adjutants remained outside,
maintaining their self-imposed vigil.
The inn
consisted of a single, broad and long room, stretching from wall to wall with
an exit to a small, raised balcony at the far end. A few groups of Cenarion
watchers were scattered throughout; at one wall was a Tauren female bowed over
a portable cookpot while exchanging light banter with what appeared to be the
assigned innkeeper: a Night Elf male in semi-formal cloth trappings, leaned
lightly against the inner wall with muscular arms crossed over his chest.
Eli rolled his
eyes silently as his incorrigible she-rogue companion immediately scooted off
to – most likely – badger the cooking lady for recipes. He quickly regained his
composure as the delegation gathered together, Ysiel turning towards them once
more.
“We came to
Outland expecting to find small pockets of life,” she began. “What we
discovered in Zangarmarsh was a lush environment with a thriving ecosystem.”
“Zangarmarsh
has been miraculously spared from demonic corruption,” the Ambassador chimed
in. “It is that primary quality that allowed my people to use it as a refuge.”
Ysiel went on.
“Our initial assessment of the area was deceiving, however. The water levels at
the lakes and marshes have been consistently going down since we started taking
measurements.” She raised her face to the roof, gesturing as to take in the
entire marshland in a single motion. “This is an ailing landscape, struggling
to keep itself in balance and losing the fight. Members of some species rapidly
outgrow their peers and become more aggressive.” She returned her gaze to her
visitors, and her eyes were somber. “The impact this could have on the local
animal and plant life is disastrous.”
“Have you any
indication as to what could be causing such a rapid shift in the biome?”
Theluin inquired cautiously.
Ysiel shook
her head. “We’ve had little opportunity to make in-depth observations. Ever
since we set foot in Zangarmarsh, the naga have launched lethal attacks against
us without warning.”
“Naga?” Eli
interjected with surprise.
“Naga,” Ysiel
confirmed with a hard edge to the word. “They have proven to be exceedingly
vicious – even more so than their Azerothian cousins. We’ve done our best to
keep them at bay, but our options are limited; we did not expect to face such
opposition, and thus have been poorly prepared to counter the assaults. The
continuing influx of adventurers looking for work has had some effect, though
nothing that will last – not without a concentrated effort.”
There was a
beat of silence; interrupted by the Ambassador’s carefully modulated voice.
“If I may
switch subjects somewhat blatantly, Lady Ysiel …” The expedition leader turned
to him with eyebrows raised, and he inclined his head respectfully. “… do you
know of a location called Telredor?”
Ysiel furrowed
her brow lightly. “Those adventurers foraging to the northeast have spoken of a
Draenic sanctuary called Telredor.” She cracked a little smile. “Apparently
built on top of a particularly imposing mushroom stalk.”
The Ambassador
lit up. “That would most certainly be Telredor. … as forthcoming as I am sure
you are prepared to be, Lady Ysiel, I would like to insist that we nevertheless
make our way towards it in due time.” He bowed again, genteel as ever. “It
would not do to have our pilgrimage take up resources you obviously need for
your own noble endeavours.”
In the depths
of his mind, Eli could swear that he could already imagine what kind of ornery
retort Tuan would have undoubtedly made – “gee, why don’t you turn her over and
butter the other side too?” – and it wasn’t without effort that the Paladin
managed to control his face.
Ysiel did
smile, a hint of amused irony in her eyes, but she bowed gracefully to the
Ambassador in turn. “You should be able to use the existing causeway system
that leads through the marsh. Just head north and you should find it easily.”
She checked herself slightly. “I will warn you, however – it would seem that a
small Horde village has been established to the furthest east, right at the
foot of the eastern mountain chain. While I doubt your path will take you
anywhere near it, it would likely not hurt to observe a measure of caution on
your way.” The Ambassador nodded sagely.
“Now, I
certainly won’t insist that you leave immediately,” Ysiel concluded, again with
that amused ironic twinge to her gaze. “I suppose you are well-stocked in terms
of provisions, but it won’t hurt if you wish to take a while to observe our
settlement. The more the awareness of the Circle’s work spreads, the greater the
awareness of nature and its integral role in all our lives.”
The Ambassador
bowed graciously, as did Theluin and Eli, and with a few ceremonial phrases of
departure, the delegation exited the inn.
This time, Eli
didn’t even flinch when he felt the presence of Tuan’s tall, wiry frame fall in
step behind him.
“Gee, why
didn’t he turn her over and butter the other side too?” the caustic-tongued
she-rogue suddenly muttered in Eli’s ear from behind.
He barely held
back an outright guffaw. “… Light help me, Miss Tuan, I was jes’ waitin’ fer you ta say that,” he
chortled quietly. She merely snickered back.
Entering the
settlement’s exterior once again, the Ambassador strode over to his kinsmen –
who had apparently spent their time in quiet small talk while waiting for the
socializations to finish – and Theluin duly began wandering about the premises,
dropping the odd greeting here and there and peering in on the arduous
cataloguing work of the indigenous plants and wildlife.
Tuan stretched
her back a little demonstratively. By now, Eli was certain she only made her
spine pop on purpose. “So we’re having ourselves a little detour, then?” she
remarked off-handedly in her usual ornery manner. “That’s a pretty loose way to
conduct a ‘pilgrimage’.”
Eli quickly
glanced towards the Draenei dignitaries, ensuring himself that they were well
out of earshot. “… s’not that much of a detour, Miss Tuan,” he explained in a
lowered voice. “More of an extension, really.”
She shot him a
glance with an eyebrow raised, and he gathered his wits.
“Th’ sanctuary
of Telredor is exactly that – t’was initially a kind o’ retreat fer anchorites
an’ vindicators looking t’ observe the tenets o’ the Light in seclusion. That
obviously ended when th’ Dark Horde started murdering th’ entire Draenei
people.” Tuan cracked a little smirk at this, while Eli went on. “Telredor
became a hiding place an’ sanctuary, miraculously avoiding the Orc’s patrols
an’ search parties.” He paused to catch his breath. “Also, Telredor’s where
Farseer Nobundo came forward t’ the unaffected Draenei as th’ first Draenic
shaman in their history. This was back when the unaffected ones liked Broken
even less than they do today.”
Tuan arched an
eyebrow a little quirkily, and then shrugged with supreme abandon, putting her
hands behind her head to apparently stretch out some non-existent kink. “Hn.
Guess whenever the words ‘Draenei’ and ‘sanctuary’ are used in conjunction, it
always ends up a pilgrimage thing.” She glanced off-handedly at the Paladin.
“They really don’t like Broken, do
they?”
He cracked a
lopsided, weak smile. “Only th’ direct presence of Velen himself kept th’
gather’d Draenei from dismissin’ Nobundo befer he’d even open’d his mouth.
Couple weeks earlier, an’ th’ guards would’ve chased him right out. These days,
they’re a bit more open-minded about it – like at th’ temple o’ Telhamat.”
At this, the
she-rouge’s face hardened noticeably, and she levered a surprisingly fierce
glare at him out of the corner of her eye. “… why do they hate Broken that
much? Did they just up and decide they weren’t good enough and wrote them off?”
Eli drew a
deep breath, again glancing towards the group of Draenei nearby. “I think
that’s a question th’ Ambassador’s better prepared than me ta answer,” he
replied very cautiously. She continued to nail him in place with a piercing
silver-teal stare, and he fidgeted lightly. “It’s … well, it’s connect’d t’ the
Orcs’ genocide campaign, an’ t’ some extent ta Shattrath isself.”
She looked him
over for another tense heartbeat, and then seemed to drop the subject entirely.
Without another word, she turned on her heel and swaggered off, apparently to
check on her horse.
Eli actually
realized that he was breathing out ever so slightly. Strong opinions against seemingly
unfounded oppression was certainly one quality he hadn’t expected from the
capricious woman. The thought left him wondering privately just how many other
layers she was hiding beneath her belligerent exterior.
He shook his
head lightly and wandered over to his Moon Priest friend, who had gotten thoroughly caught up with the resident cataloguer: a dedicated female
Kaldorei who clearly seemed to be the type to be up to her elbows in
unidentified plant parts at every opportunity. The two Night Elves were
chatting animatedly, alternating between Darnassian and Common as a third individual
– a crooked old Broken, of all things – humbly interjected every so often with corrections
and remarks. Eli allowed himself a little smile; it wasn’t often that he got to
see his elderly friend in this particular manner, and it was rather
entertaining to watch the literally ancient Priest act so energetic. One could
almost think he wasn’t a day over a thousand years old …
Glancing up
suddenly, Theluin duly took notice of his far younger Paladin friend, and
quickly regained his wits. Nodding in excuse to the researcher and exchanging a
few words of departure, he made his way over to where Eli was stood, smiling at
the man with an uncharacteristic awkwardness in his glowing eyes.
“My sincere
apologies,” he mumbled. “I suppose my life-long interests got the better of me
for a while.”
“S’alright,
sir Theluin,” Eli grinned back jovially. “If I could, I’d happily stay here and
watch you go at it for the next couple weeks.”
Theluin
adjusted his robes discreetly, still with the mildly embarrassed smile on his
lips. “Time we sadly do not have. How are the others?”
“We prol’ly
could’ve waited another couple minutes, at least,” Eli replied, glancing over
his shoulder. “Sorry fer interruptin’ yer fun.” Now it was his turn to look
awkward.
Theluin shook
his head gently, recomposing himself fully. “Don’t be. I know for a fact that
time can slip past all too easily.” Eli nodded in accord, falling in step as
they wandered back to where the Draenei were still gathered.
“Who was that
Broken fellow back thar?” the Paladin ventured discreetly.
“Ah … his name
is Ikeyen. He has apparently been taken in by the expedition, and in return he
helps their researchers identify the local flora and fauna.”
“That’s
great,” Eli remarked with a broad smile, turning to the Moon Priest. “Oughta
really help ‘em dig through all the new stuff that keeps cropping up so’s they
don’t get swamped in it.” He paused briefly and rolled his eyes with a resigned
groan. “… please don’t tell Miss Tuan what I just said …”
“She will never
let you live it down,” Theluin finished with a humorous glint in his eyes.
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Originally written by Tuan Taurëo
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