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[kainfamilyfortune]

Thea - Journal Entries #19-21

“All that are worthy of taking the steps to repentance shall be cleansed of sin, doubt, and most importantly set upon a new path. These steps are never to be taken lightly. Nigh, you must come to me with grace and certainty that this path is without any shred of doubt, yours alone. 

The journey will be long, possibly encompassing between the veils of both life and death - you must have perseverance to allow me to guide you. For if you are to be cleansed, allowing the Light within to permeate all that you are and all that you ever will be, you must be willing to trust what sometimes may never be trusted. Forgive the damned. Love those who have never known such emotions. 

Your path lays before you. Only now, you have met me. Let go of thy fears, and take my hand. I will guide you home.”

     - Unknown,  ext. Azerothian Lightbringer pg. 3

19. Home

Pa sat in his musty worn chair basking in the warmth of the fireplace when I entered through the tiny back garden door. It was late, I had just finished the ending council meetings and debriefings from the front line in Stormwind keep. Pye had given me a glowing recommendation to our king, Anduin Wrynn, who smiled at me as he crossed the long distance between his throne and where I knelt before him. “Rise, Ms. Kain. Although we face casualties, you and your team have given us hope that this war could soon end. We need people like you, but you must be rested and healed. You-your foot, how bad is it?” I winced slightly as I rose to be face to face with my king. “The on-board medical staff reset it... after I reset it in the field, it’s at least broken in three places, my King.” He winced in sympathy towards my condition, before slowly turning away and heading back to his seat. “Ms. Kain, I’m appointing you to take at least four weeks off for you to heal. Do with what you want that time, but I will require your assistance for upcoming deployments in the future, Commander.” He said the last line with a smile, Pye even joined in the praise as he lent his arm as a crutch for support. 

-

I snapped out of the memory looking towards my father in the dim firelight. Sound asleep, with a glass of lambic still half full. I sat in my chair next to his, setting the wooden cane Pruet had gifted me as we got ashore on the small wooden end stand between Pa and I, taking off my glove and nimbly unknotting his fingers around the glass. He snorted and began to lull back, as I stifled a laugh in my chest. I took the remainder of the glass in one swig and leaned forward admiring the flames, setting the empty glass on the table and grabbing the fire poker and stirring the embers, flipping a new log atop. Although spring was quickly approaching, winter winds still pressed upon our fair capitol. 

I leaned back, slowly taking my boots off, then my pauldrons, and finally my chainmail chest-guard. The soggy bandages with sweat and blood needed to be changed and I desperately needed to bathe, but that could wait until morning. Before getting too lost in the fire I grabbed the glass and got up, leaning on the back of my chair for support and walked over to our kitchen, pouring myself more of the lambic. I tilted the small pony keg to get the last remnants of the contents in my glass. I would surely need to pay a visit to the Pig and Whistle to have them deliver another. Maybe two. I had quite a bit of money now from the recent deployment, along with a bonus because of the new promotion so that was nice. I limped back over with the full cup to my chair, nursing the glass over many hours as I reflected on the events of the battle we had won. King Rastakhan was dead, and although Jaina had been dealt with a near fatal Horde counter offensive, she had made it out by the skin of her teeth. We had dealt a wound to the Horde that they surely would not recover from so easily.

I awoke with a stiff neck and the smell of eggs and the sound of bacon frying in a pan, the first of morning light cascading into the our dusty little hovel in Old Town. I raised my eyebrows attempting to open my eyes fully, rubbing them so they could focus a bit better. “When did you get home last night, didn’t even hear you come in!” Pa gleefully pronounced as he set the plate of breakfast before me. I smiled, “Thank you Pa. I uhh-I came home pretty late, must have been past twelve-bells. I didn’t want to wake you.” He laughed, placing a plate of his own on the end stand. “Well now I’ve got you to thank for for the crick in my neck. But I guess that’s nothing compared to what you must have been through! Fresh bandages are in the wash room, I went ahead and started to draw you a bath, you stink like a sailor, and look like you haven’t bathed in a month!” He laughed shoveling his food into his mouth, dripping egg into his shaggy unkempt beard. 

“Gee, thanks Pa.” I said a little condescendingly, before jesting with him, honestly happy to see that I made it out alive to be here, sharing this moment with him. “I umm-I haven’t bathed since Kul Tiras. So yeah, no wonder.” I began eating my breakfast, not realizing how hungry I was, before too long we had finished and Arthur went to the wash room to cut off the water, coming back out with fresh linens, trading it with my now empty plate. “Pa.” I said with a soft tone. “Thea?” He replied, holding both plates heading towards the sink. “I-I’m glad to be home. The things I saw... I really didn’t know if I was-” He cut me off, setting the plates down atop the pile of dishes on the sink and embraced me. “I... I didn’t know if you’d come back. After reading your letter, I started to procure arrangements with Father Fortea. I cried for two days, thinking I was going to lose my daughter to this war. When I awoke this morning to find you by my side... Thea. I’m so happy. So happy that you are home.” Tears began to streak on my cheeks, as I embraced my father, the only waves of emotions I’ve let out in front of him since Dustin was killed in action. 

He wiped the tears away from my now laden cheeks, “Bath is waiting, get in before it get’s cold. I... I have news as well regarding your letter, once you’re washed up.After that I’ll have you run into town, if you’re up for it?” I nodded before he helped me up from the chair and then walked me over to the wash room. I shut the door and took off the remainder of chainmail leggings and then my undergarments and soiled bandages. I dipped my toes into the water gauging the temperature, steam gently wafting around me as I entered. Blood began to rise to the surface after I had submerged myself. I poured a little extra soap into the tub. Suds began to form as I gently appraised the wounds that had already begun healing up. Luckily not too many stitches were needed when we had retreated to safety of the ship. A week had passed and the wounds have already closed up around my hand and leg, so I began the slow process of taking out the excess stitch-work. 

An hour had passed, scrubbing every inch of dirt and grime out of my pores. The medical staff only had cleaned around my wounds so I wouldn’t get any infections, so the rest of my body was filthy. My pruned fingers and toes meant that is was time to get out. I lifted myself up, pulling the plug for the drain on my way out as I grasped the towel my father had given to me, wrapping it around myself. I watched the combination of dirt and encrusted blood slowly filter out into the drain along with a few auburn red hairs. 

After carefully and slowly ascending the narrow steps to my room I looked at myself for the first time in what seemed like an age in my full length mirror, admiring each of my wounds with hyper focus. I never really disliked my body, but never praised it either. I never tried to feel pretty or embrace myself in lavish or revealing clothes. I always considered myself plain, average. My scars always stopped me from feeling like I was beautiful, but I recognized that I’ve been stared at in the past. I never admired my curves. I never saw my dimples. I never embraced my soft skin. My armor was like a second skin to me now. Only showing my title, and not my own expression. I feel like today, I’ll wear something nice. A tan sundress, with orange lilies. Yeah. I like this.

As I walked down the steps, I could peer through our tiny side window to the back of the abode, Pa was pruning and weeding the small garden, adorned with his dilapidated straw hat. It was closely approaching mid-day, grabbing my new cane and walked out the back door and my father gave me a bright smile, “Thea, you look lovely. Here,” He gestured towards the chairs in the garden, wiping the sweat and fresh soil off his brow, his expression turned much more serious, worried. “Tell me about your dream.”

20. Collective

I recalled everything, every detail of the encampment, how the two brothers acted, as well as the death of Andrew’s brother, Silas. He nodded, his face becoming more troubled. He got up out of his bench seat, pulling up the lid and pulling out a very worn tome, he dusted his hands and opened it, lifting his eyes to glance upon me and then back to the book as he filtered through the pages, before stopping and lifting a finger to point upon a singular passage as he recited, “Andrew Cordovo Kain, first of his name, son of Jules Derek Kast, and Ingrid Bell Kast, who took on his mother’s maiden name after Jules had past of the first reported case of Tyr’s Disease. When Andrew began to show signs of the disease himself, his devoted brother...” He paused, before saying aside, “The name, it’s redacted.” I looked to him, slightly defeated, but I nodded for him to continue, “Second of his name, and acting, but not appointed, High Priest of the Arathor city-state gave his life to save his brother, and succeeded. Nothing else is known of this day. Andrew went on to lead the citizens of Arathor to Alterac, Dalaran, and finally Stormwind. After years of conquest, and aid in the formation of the church of holy light, he passed away peacefully at the age of 63. Succeeded by his wife, Maria Nicole Kain, and their four children...” He stopped, looking up to me, “You believe that his brother, his name was Silas?” 

I looked out to the garden not wanting to meet his gaze, but I nodded, “I’m... I’m almost certain. Unless I’m... I’m just going crazy. But...” I had a thought, possibly a way to know for sure, “The church, they... they must keep records of who was in their ranks, even from the beginning, and not just in Stormwind, but everywhere.” Arthur looked to me with a mild surprise, “Yes, yes, I would assume that they archive them, Arathor was a millennia ago, but they must have had records. The... The only issue is that, even if our personal family records are redacted, then it’s highly likely that the public ones would be so as well. But I’ll ask around. Is there anything else?” He looked to me with the same worried look in his eyes, the only thing I left out was the voice, the voice that made the deal with Silas, it chilled every fiber of my being thinking back to it, as if she was looking at me now. “No. Th-That was all, thank you Pa. You didn’t have to-” He shushed me, “I insist. Now get Cordon to help you with those kegs when you go into town, okay?” I smiled to him and nodded.

“Okay.” I said, as we both got up and he hugged me gently. My tan sundress flowing in the wind as I opened the gates out of the gardens, and into the cobble stone streets of the bustling capitol.

21. Road to Ruin

I went to bed early, no more past seven bells, slightly drunk from the two glasses of Bradensbrook Gorse that was gifted from Cordon after a long chat of goings’ on in the rest of the world. As I laid my head down to rest finally, I began to dream again.

The rush of a waterfall and the sound of rain greeted me as I opened my eyes laying witness to a damp field of grass and mud before the pond with the sheer rock face climbing to the higher reaches of grey sky. As I rolled upon my back I watched the rolling clouds whisper distant thundering tales to one another. Lightning bolted between them in anger. I sat up slowly, soaked and decided to limp over towards the pathway adjacent to the cascading falls of the pond.

As I walked the path, the loose cobblestones made my broken leg, shattered foot, shoot in sharp pains. I wanted to stop, but I needed to find respite. I was compelled to continue forward. My hips ached, to compensate for the poor weight distribution to continue up the small hill and I crested I was greeted by another larger hill. Light help me.

I stood there a moment waiting an answer, an answer that would never come. So I bit my lower lip and grunted down the hill and persevered through the next more daunting hill, soaked in a downpour that was only getting worse by the minute. My muscles flared in anguish as I reached the top of the path and I collapsed to my knees as I was met with a third, even larger hill.

I touched my leg with the open palm attempting to channel the healing energies I have known all throughout my life but I was empty. My connection, broken. I could feel anxiety welling into my throat, burning with an abhorrent acidity. I would surely die a peaceful death upon this lonely road. I winced, groaning and muttering curses as I got up, leaning upon a nearby post for support. Dusk was quickly approaching and I needed shelter. I needed rest.

My thoughts drifted, trying to block out the fire I was feeling all over my wounded body, drifted towards the unknown, what if this series of hills never ends, only becoming larger and larger, forever? That could not be, I was close. So very close. “Aghhhh!” I had to scream aloud, as I felt the shattered foot splinter more from the weight of the burden I was carrying. Rest. You need rest.

I fell to my knees before cresting the hill, tears of agonizing pain dripping down my face. One by one I gripped the stones, crawling up the remainder of this hill that would never end, inching my way one step closer, my breathing became rapid, the elevation of these trails leaving me catching every last bit of oxygen.

I looked upon the summit and saw hope. A hut of architecture that was familiar, I just could not place where I had seen it before. The lantern lit interior was warm and welcome as I clutched upon the next banister at the top of the hill. The sloped roof cascaded the dripping of the shower as thunder began to roll ominously in the distance. I continued pushing forward, down the path.

My body collapsed in the oval entry way, as I tried to regain my breath from the trial that was before me and there, sitting in the chair facing away at the well worn writing nook was... me, and as the figure shifted, setting down the quill back into the nearby inkwell, she stood to face me. Her straw hat covered her eyes. She wore plain clothes, well equipped for the humidity, and she whispered one word. 

“Owl.”

-OOC-

Took a very long break from most social media. So this post has been a bit dusty and long overdo - which I might continue in due time. But other matters have prevented such. Thanks for reading <3

Want to catch up? 

Devotions Book I

-Forest

[kainfamilyfortune]

(Starting up an Alt, shifting gears a bit, with more Silas and Thea to come, but wanted try something out of my comfort zone.)

Periel - Journal Entries #1-2

1. Horizons

The hustle and bustle of the Broken Tusk tavern was something I could never explain - the experience was truly something else. I knew it’d be better down in the cleft to get any real jobs, but with mid-summer fire festival going on, even the shadows could come out and play for the week. Patrons drink themselves half to death, some quickly making their exits as they laughed to hardily and decided to make fine art of the small stoop while others sulk in the corners. Like me - casually observing the chaos that’s drowning out the flutist that the bar had hired for entertainment. I watch the Tauren sway side to side, holding the flute awkwardly between her hooves and couldn’t really keep a proper tune. I felt bad for her. The few sober patrons tossed a few copper and silver in her tip jar. 

I wasn’t here to listen to this poor rendition of ‘Spirit Stone’, I came here because the last gig gave up the ghost, and solo gigs just weren’t cutting it anymore. If I wanted to retire away from all this fucking war, I needed to find something fruitful and find it fast. Jin hopped up on the table and curled himself around my forearm, as I still held the half empty glass of gin I had been sipping on for the evening. He chirped and then walked up my arm to go to his nest within the hood of my cloak. His head popped out near my opposite shoulder, with a folded note between his teeth, I grabbed it and looked over my shoulder, scanning the room for who could have wanted to message me, and use my own pet? A restless and annoyed, ‘Hmmm…’ erupted from the edge of my throat, as I carefully unfolded the note. The handwriting was familiar, the cursive script all high-and-mighty - pretentious piece of shit.

P.

You are beginning to test my patience. If I have to wait any longer for this gold to arrive at my office with the recovered documents, then we will have no choice but to put you on our list. You know what happens when we put people on our list. 

We are waiting. We are watching.

-R.

‘Stupid fuc–’ I gripped the glass, knocking the half down, wincing at the cheap booze setting fire to the back of my throat and stomach, as I breathed out a shudder of anxiety. I should have never come to this continent - ‘Oh, the money’s good in Ol’ Orgrimmar!’ - well they lied. Not unless you join a company… ‘Light be damned, I’m really going to have to do this?’ I could feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head. It had been forty years, of ‘my way or the crossroads’ - to have to forgo my freedoms… fuck me sideways. It’s the only way. I’ve already dried up most of my connections back east and south. This was it. End of the road. Onto other horizons.

2. Steelrune

As I exited the tavern I dodged a goblin’s masterpiece on the third step and stretched, the city was far from dull this afternoon. Everything was decorated in vibrant red and yellow banners and braziers still smoldering with hot coals lining every corner of the crowded streets. Tourists fled from every corner so that they could witness the opening ceremonies of the mid-summer fire festival and then flock to the airships to Uldum where vendors, raffles and shows would line the ancient streets. I told myself that I would not be attending. But I knew that I’d be able to find things from this uneasy truce for festivities. War was still in full swing, and yet neutral parties on both sides still could come together with two capitol cities either on fire or decimated in blight. The war did not interest me; that’s why when I filtered through the crowd over to the bounty board to see if any companies were hiring that weren’t directly tied to zealots or ‘honor’.

Pondering the weather worn board as I got side-glanced by a brutish orc, adorned with steel plate and a two handed ax on his back, I threw him a polite smile, not sincere in the slightest before finding a fresh piece of parchment.

Hiring:

Trackers, Archivists, Runic Students, Mercenaries

‘The fighter relies on strength. The scholar relies on knowledge. The wise do not choose.’ 

Steelrune Company

Meet in the hut south-west of Ratchet

My eyes lingered on the word ‘Trackers’ - I felt my insides groan slightly. Fate was a fickle thing - and as fate would have it, my reputation as a tracker was spread wide throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, to those that could find me, that is. If this was my key, then so be it. Jin popped out of my hood looking towards the orc and he grunted towards the sunfur panda looking curiously in the orc’s direction. I nodded politely pursing my lips as I committed the notice to memory making my leave outside the city walls.

Urano, my wolf companion, looked like she needed to run out into the plains, she wasn’t used to being trapped in the stables for days on end, no matter how well they treat her. I took the striped leather reins and flipped a silver piece to the attendant, riding out into the setting sun.

I arrived shortly before dusk, as I hung the reins to Urano onto a nearby tree to the hut in question. As I made my approach up the tiny hill, I could hear the banging of metal and that familiar smell of a forge. I knocked twice casually on the open door frame, as little light illuminated the space, but what I did see was an orc, but not the green kind. This one was not tainted of the same Fel energies his forefathers drank in. He looked up to the door frame with a pointed look, “What do you want?” He spoke gruffly, like I was nuisance ready to be squashed.

In the best presentable voice I could muster - which came out more condescending than I would have hoped, “I heard of a company based out of Ratchet - Steelrune, if I have the name right? You wouldn’t happen ta’ know of ‘em?”

The Orc looked down, banging out the steel plate he was working on, still red hot, I could feel the heat permeating towards the entrance as the spark began to lay at his feet. Once he felt it was ready, he quenched it in the oil, flames licking the sides of the tongs he held onto before looking back up to me, “What is your interest in us, Elf?” His eyes were smoldering as much as the forge at this point, and my poker face was melting from the heat, but I carried on casually, “So, I did find the right place, said on the bounty board you’d be lookin’ for a tracker. Well, I managed ta’ track ya’ down.”

The Orc didn’t seem all that amused by the joke, “Yes. It seems you have. What is your interest in join the company?” I had to think for a moment, I wasn’t sure if lying was going to get me where I needed to be, not like it had in the past. I decided on the truth, without giving too much away. “Mercenary work seems to be only good when you’ve got people by your side, and because.. Well, I normally fly solo you see - I decided, why not? Money’s tight as it is, and the only ways of surviving financially is ta’ join the war, or ta’ be rich already. And I ain’t rich already.”  He scoffed at my jest, still not amused. “We have rules.” He said this as if it were a deterrent, hopefully to get me to leave. I blinked, furrowing my brow, “And I realize that I had ta’ make some compromises going into this, but the pros certainly outweigh the cons.”

He looked at me for a moment, appraising me, Jin popped out of my hood and gave the Orc a quizzical look, “Whose the the rat?” he posed, I gave Jin a chin scratch, “This here, is Jin, he is a panda, not a rat - got em’ damn near close to death in the Dread Wastes, he was most likely the runt of the litter left behind by his family.” I was being sincere with my words, Jin had sought me out, injured and alone with no home. The Orc smiled at the last line, “I have a feeling we will get along just fine.” He set the tongs down by the crucible before approaching me, looking me square in the eyes, “A tracker, you say?” He nodded his head slightly. “I suppose your in. Long as Kelarion approves.” 

I could feel my ears twitch from behind as a Sin’dorei apparated out of thin air, a portal to what looked like a Silvermoon magister’s office was barely visible - I shuddered at the thought, as the long robed, older blood elf waltzed up the hill. His shoulders were made of ethereal scrolls floating in the air, and his eyes still shined in arcane energies. His essence was warm, and his smile was polite as he looked me over, the Orc gestured towards Kelarion, and Kelarion tilted his head in a short bow then turning to face the Orc, “Korrgosh, I hope you are not scaring off any potential recruits.” Korrgosh scoffed again, “This one is the tracker you’ve been looking for. Hopefully he won’t screw up, we’ll need him for the Ashenvale mission.” 

Kelarion looked to me with a stoic look about him, “A tracker by the name of…?” I quickly stopped petting Jin, “Oh, oh right, Periel Sylvenfield. At your service.” I extended my hand and he gingerly took it, “Well I am your Runemaster, Kelarion Bloodveil, and who you have had the pleasure of meeting is Korrgosh, your Steelmaster. Welcome to the Steelrune Company.”

[kainfamilyfortune]

12. do you have a favorite au for your muse ?

My constant relying on autocorrect is killing me haha

[kainfamilyfortune]

15. write if you think you’d get along with your muse if they were real .

Hand-Written Asks

[kainfamilyfortune]

I don’t normally do these kinds of things, but I’ve got my nice work notebook and tons of time at work to kill, pester me and my muses, I dare you.

HANDWRITING   ASK   MEME   !    there   are   a   few   of   these   floating   around ,   but   i   wanted   to   make   one   specifically   for   roleplayers  .

1.   write   a   random   fact   about   your   character  . 2.   write   something   you   love   about   your   character  . 3.   write   how   you   feel   about   your   character’s   canon  . 4.   write   the   url   of  a   roleplayer ,   or   roleplayers ,   you   admire  . 5.   write   what   ships   you   have   for   your   character ,   and   possibly   why   you   ship   them  . 6.   write   your   url  . 7.   write   the   asker’s   url  . 8.   write   the   url   of   a   fellow   roleplayer   and   compliment   them  . 9.   if   you   write   original   characters ,   write   if   you   want   to   have   them   published   into   a   form   of   media   such   as   a   book   or   film  . 10.   shittily   doodle   your   muse   with   pen   and   paper  . 11.   write   whether   you   think   your   handwriting   is   good   or   bad  . 12.   do   you   have   a   favorite   au   for   your   muse  ? 13.   multimuses ,   which   muse   is   your   favorite   and   why  ? 14.   write   a   random   fact   about   yourself  . 15.   write   if   you   think   you’d   get   along   with   your   muse   if   they   were   real  . 16.   write   if   you   think   your   muse   is   a   good   person  . 17.   write   something   you   hate   about   your   character  . 18.   write   about   your   character’s   lore  . 19.   write   what   your   muse   is   thinking   about   right   now  . 20.   write   what   you’re   thinking   about   right   now  . 21.   write   what   you   like   about   your   muse’s   relationship   with   the   asker’s   muse  . 22.   asker’s   choice  !   specify   when   sending  .

[kainfamilyfortune]

Thea - Journal Entries #14-18

“They say that the first step is the hardest. More than ever before the momentum of battle and those surrounding you, cloud your judgement to continue going forward. Like a wheel, you’ll eventually break from the speed and veracity of your actions. You will fall into a shattered pit of discarded remnants. These are your friends. This is your first step. Loss.” 

- Unknown,  ext. Azerothian Lightbringer pg. 11

(OOC: Raid spoilers for Battle of Dazar’Alor, also TW: Blood, Violence, Vomiting)

14. The Breach

The waves crashed against the dawning sea as we made our approach to the coast of Zuldazar. It wasn’t the most relaxing boat ride as sleep evaded most of the soldiers on board. The captains fell in line on the open deck as we caught glimpses of the cascading gold pyramid. Our goal was in sight and we had this planned down to the minute, so long as the distraction team was successful. Into the heart of a monster. Simple in concept, but what we faced was far worse. I quickly gathered the medical kit I had been preparing on the journey here, fresh with Mage Royal tinctures and Peace Bloom injections should we face capture. A peaceful death was far better than a torturous one, and one couldn’t help but be prepared when we entered Death’s chamber. Folk tales were emerging from some of the anxious soldiers who had experienced a Loa’s wrath first hand and lived to tell the tale. I didn’t know much about the troll’s worship, but I could certainly say Bwonsamdi was sure to have field day today. 

I gave some confident nods to the men and women as I exited the brig and went top-side to join the other captains, Pye met my glance with pursed lips turned into a frown as he finished peering through his spy glass, reluctantly offering it to me so I could have a closer look. He pointed towards the sky, northwards. I peered inside the patina cooper tube to see a flock of pterrordax riders flying towards Nazmir. Good. Air assault was not in the picture to deal with on the docks, so this was an excellent favor in our future victory. I handed the spyglass back to a confident looking Pye. I held out my gloved hand to him, “I wanted to apologi-” He cut me off, “Can it Kain. We aren’t friends here. We aren’t friends back home. Rally your troops and make them fall in line in two minutes, I’ll meet you here with mine. Once the Lord Admiral’s ship completes phase two of operations we will have three minutes before making landfall.” He walked off with a grumble as I lowered my hand to rest atop my hammer, eyebrows raised in a matter defiance. Fine. I guess I’ll just let you die. No... no what was I thinking. 

I went back into the brig attempting to harness Andrew’s prowess, he’d know exactly what to say. I approached my team as they quickly fell into line, hushing the bustle of chatter that they had. I closed my eyes and let my senses take over the rest. As I opened my eyes, I began to bellow out words that were not my own, channeling his strength.

“Fire Team Beta. It has been a great honor to train and get to know each of you in the last twelve hours. I’ve been tasked to keep you alive and I think you all have proven your track records as the damned best that the Alliance has to offer. This will not be enough for today, no. What you must do is beyond comprehension, beyond skill, beyond luck - you will be entering the heart of Horde infrastructure. Infrastructure that we will be dismantling from the inside, out. A critical blow that they will dare not recover from. Today you will break bonds. Today you will strike their heart. Or we will die. You all know what must be done. Now prove to me that you can do it. Light guide you all! Now move!” 

One by one they gave me a salute as they each climbed to the upper deck to see where the future carnage would be in store. The last to disembark was Pruet, his scrawny frame in his royal blue and gold cloth fell in odds ways as he saluted me. I pulled him aside. “You are going to prove me wrong. I know it. Pye speaks highly of your intelligence. Now put some of that-” I jabbed his head with my pointer finger and traced down his chest to his heart “-book-smarts where it matters most. Remember the footing I taught you too.” I slipped my leg under his thigh to attempt to sweep him but his stance was much more secure this time around. He was ahead of the curve as he knocked me into the crates with a gust of frosty air. I couldn’t help but smile. “Very, very good. Now go up and join the rest of ‘em.”

As we edged closer and closer to the docks we could see flares lighting up the early morning sky one by one they knew we were encroaching. This was the ploy. Horns blared from the capitol city, this was followed shortly by ballista fire streaking large missiles of flame high into the sky, as they hit terminal velocity I could hear the distant cries as they found targets. One. Two. Hit meters in front of our assault. The third... Hit home. “INCOMING!” The call was deafening as the projectile crashed into the side of the hull exploding in array of debris, knocking me and few others onto our backs. I gasped for air attempting to reorient myself, my vision becoming clear as I saw a fourth projectile streak into the center of the Kul Tiran vessel that was leading us into the breach. Flames erupted from the heart, Light, no.

I could see Lord Admiral Jaina clear as day, leaning in shock on the banister towards where the wound was inflicted upon her ship. She looked back towards her captain and in split second I thought we were lost. The fifth flaming bolt aimed straight for her. Adrenaline must had taken over as she streaked a vivid amethyst bubble into the air, missing her by mere inches as she braced for the worst holding her hands aloft. The projectile shattered in a million pieces as she too gasped for air. The wide blue eyes looked like they had endured far more storms than I had ever witnessed. Two more missiles crashed into the vessel on either side and I knew that our plan was already failing. We are surely going to be lost in the storm ahead.

Time seemed irrelevant in the current span as we were bombarded by more and more death reigning from the sky, charred crew members were being dragged as boiling blood was seeping into worn wood of the deck, I couldn’t help but be frightful as our demise was imminent. I looked forward onto the coast, knowing full well we were entering the viper’s nest. Before all hope was lost, one by one, explosions lit aflame to the enemy ships that populated the harbor. I laughed in relief. We did it. Light, thank you.

15. The First Step

A mild sense of vertigo washed over me as I looked to the high mountains and shimmering gold capitol, disembarking our damaged vessel. I wielded my hammer and shield in preparation for the onslaught of attacks from Zandalari and Horde reinforcements as we rushed onto the dock, a forward was beginning to assemble with spears in hand and Horde insignia painted crimson on their shields as they rushed to cover the entrance to the city - I looked to my team and called out, “Beta Team! I want a forward on that line! Infiltrators in the front, casters in the back! I want Turtle formation going forward-” The ten infiltrators raised their shields high up in the sky as they stacked together into a woven shell to protect us from the arrows that were beginning to arc above us. Pye’s team followed suit on the right side, miming my commands as the two teams marched forward. “CASTERS ON MY MARK!” Pye bellowed at the top of his lungs as the shielded arcane wielders began focusing energy between their fingertips. A combination of frost bolts, fire balls and arcane sigils began to take root in their hands as they widened their stances.

Volleys of arrows and gunfire cascaded from the enemy line as they whirled through the air at extreme speed meeting our assault. We edged closer and closer onto the docks before getting within sixty meters of our first targets, “Fire!” Pye shouted, a cacophony of lethal magic projectiles arched through the air as they met their targets. One by one I could see weaknesses in their line as Horde soldiers fell, covered in thick layers of frost or burned to a crisp. Some floated in the air, paralyzed as their armor withered away from the arcane traps binding them. I shared glances to Pye, motioning our offense forward as we moved towards the capitol.

Swords and spears clashed as our formation broke out. The brutish trolls, towering orcs, and withering forsaken all growled and hollered in anger as we continually shield bashed them back. One after another the back line of their defense fled, seeing the outcome of their allies falling in either a slash of blows or met with a torrent of frost and fire. Finally the front-liners dispatched the last of the now mangled bodies that lay on the stone dock, blood seeping into the cracks. I looked to a now smiling Pye, but the happiness only lasted for a moment as he rose a pointed finger towards the first set of stairs of the assault that awaited us. The Zandalari troll female sat upon a dark green raptor, adorned with worn gold armor. She had a maroon mohawk that stuck out from her dull grey skin and polished piercings in her lips, ears, nose, tusks, and eyebrows. Her leer was palatable, I could see the seething rage in her glowing aqua eyes, shimmering in contrast to her golden plate armor as she steered the raptor down the steps. 

My instincts surged through me as bullets, arrows, and arcane fire rained down upon us from the second plateau. They knew we were here now, but their numbers were thinning, I yelled to the troops, “Alpha, Beta, TURTLE MARCH!” As we were met in stride by the Zandalari paladin. Her christened wings burst forth in holy procession as she leaped off her raptor, somersaulting, and then gliding to meet the turtles near the water... Her broad sword clashed the shield barriers, the front men of Alpha team scattered and were thrown off the dock. Radiant swirls erupted from the ground at her feet. Pye charged with his polearm, grunting loudly as the blades connected trying to rework his footing, attempting to block her from another swipe at his men. Despite Pye being at least 6 foot, she towered over him with a glare of seething anger. Her tactics were barbaric, thrusting him back and swiping his feet right from under him. I rushed forward blocking a rogue arrow with my shield, spinning around and sprinting to my target.

I jumped up the sparsely littered crates at the gate in order to gain the advantage but she was quick on her feet, no longer focused on Pye who was still prone on the ground. I looked to the rising sun on the horizon, smiling. The Light would be on my side this day. I could feel it’s warmth as I soared through the air, throwing my hammer to cover the sizable distance. Judgment day was upon the Horde... War, famine, death... And I was the one to deal this blow. The hammer struck her in the chest, knocking her down a peg - wasn’t expecting that now, huh? I landed, wincing as the shock of pain in my ankles and legs coarse it’s way up, holding my hand out - letting my hammer return... to... my... Oh... “Oh no.” I breathed, as I saw a devilish smile encroach on the troll as she held my hammer into her chest, letting the holy fire burn the cavity that I had dealt, but she knew... she knew that I needed that to win this fight. I held my shield aloft, bashing her forward and throwing her off balance, she gripped the flaming hammer as it embedded deeper and deeper, penetrating her faded gold plate. She struck with her sword in a downward spike on my shield as I braced. “LIGHT!” I screeched. The clash was that of a tower bell, as a shock wave cascaded across the field of battle. I was knocked prone, but as was she.

I crossed the field and engaged her again before she could stand, grabbing the bloody mess of my hammer out of her chest before striking into her hip, and then her chest, then her head, Repeatedly blow after blow as the ringing in my ears slowly subsided. An arm grabbed me from behind, “THEA! THEA! STOP, WE NEED TO KEEP MOVING!” The mangled corpse sat in front of me, blood dripped down my chain mail and plate. Pye held me back as I shrugged his hand meeting his clenched jaw and focused demeanor. We jogged up to our men who had dispatched most of the defense that was now falling back, upward towards the capitol’s heart.

16. The Second Step

We had lost seven men and women on the first step altogether so that left us with forty-three to get us to the marker for Gamma and Delta teams to infiltrate the palace. Pye pushed forward as I assessed the casualties, with Delta team behind us already dragging the limb corpses towards the ships. I got the nod from the other captain, as she gave me a fierce grin - I continued up the steps with the rest of our teams. 

The waves of onslaught continued despite the opposition slowly retreating but just like the first step we were met with not one, but two individuals cutting through the crowd. A menacing looking orc female in grey leathers adorned with teeth, larger than any creature than I’ve ever fought, and a sin’dorei male with short blond hair and crimson robes. He brandished his staff forward as fireballs lit up in front of us, slamming into the front most line of our troops. The smell of burning flesh hit my senses and I had to resist the urge to vomit, swallowing the heat wave that erupted before us. The orc rushed with a volatile green wisp unleashing a flurry of blows on our mages knocking them down, one by one. I charged forward, eyeing the orcish monk. 

I heaved my mace towards her abdomen as she sucker punched Pruet, knocking him off balance and to the ground. My mace connected, knocking her back five feet. I had her attention now. She made up the distance as she spun and spun around kicking and lashing out in a cacophony of chi energies, blistering the ground in sickly ivy. I dodged and blocked the first two blows before her image blurred. Her foot lodged into my ribs for the first strike, following that with a leg sweep. My vision went dark as my helmet dropped in front of me. I shimmied myself reaching for it as she loomed over me kicking it away from me... this was it. My shield and mace were on the ground and she smiled in assured victory, the backdrop of horde and alliance soldiers clashing in the background. I keeled over now feeling the pain in my legs and side... I can’t. I won’t lose... I picked myself up and she bellowed in laughter as I raised my fists weakly, blowing my blood encrusted, tangled hair out of my face, “Fuck you.” I breathed as I went in for an uppercut, which was easily dodged by my far more well equipped adversary.

We exchanged blows, but she was far stronger and faster, dodging every single punch and kick - everything in my gut that she just punched was telling me to run, but I have too much riding on this victory. She kneed me in the chest as I collapsed on the ground again, spiting a spray of blood on the ancient stonework. I gripped my holy symbol and lashed a holy shock in her direction, scoring her left shoulder as it ignited in radiant energy, lighting a flame that distracted her as I rose up and shoulder charged her into a tackle. I elbowed her in the face once, twice, three times, blood pouring out of her nose as she enveloped her legs around my waist attempting to grapple my lower half. She shifted her weight and we rolled flipping positions and now I was met with a barrage of elbows and punches to the face. I was struggling to maintain consciousness as I grasped her legs attempting to squeeze out of them to wiggle myself out but she was too strong, finally I gave up, raising my arms to guard my face and upper body as she wailed another volley of blows on me. 

A chill ran up my spine, my vision was blurred beyond all the drunken brawls I had ever been in. I could feel myself letting go, the overcast sky blocking any semblance of hope. She rose off of my now limb body, towering over me and smiled a toothy grin, before lifting her leg above my own. I felt the pain before it connected to what she had done. The sharp pain was dulled by the adrenaline, but it still hurt worse than any punch I had ever taken, more than any kick to the side. More than anything. My right foot was crushed under her own. The last sight before my vision went to black, was her wicked grin. And a frostbolt hitting her square in the face.

17. The Third Step

I gasped for every breath I could muster as the dusty air filtered back into my lungs. The pain was excruciating. My vision was still clouded, large black spots obscuring the majority of my sight, but what I could see was my med kit sprawled out next to me, as Pruet lifted my leg rolling it in bandages, “Ahh, ahh!” I winced in pain as he replied, “Thea... Thea, oh gods, thank the light you’re still with us.” He blurted out setting my leg down, “Uhh.. erm, which one of these is Peacebloom?” I struggled, but managed to prop myself up, I didn’t dare look to my leg, but I pointed to the opaque white/yellow vial. “I.. I only need a quarter vial. A full one would surely.. ahh... stop my heart.” He poured the vial out on the ground until there was a quarter left and lifted the vial to my mouth which stung when I touched the glass tube to my lips. I clutched the vial out of his assisting hands, downing it as the concoction took effect, numbing the pain. I took a look around the field and it was much calmer now. How long was I out? “They retreated?” I managed to get out before hacking up a combination of flem and blood.

“Yeah, after you pretty much took care of that monk, I just finished her off. Pye’s team had that mage corned, they are already at the third step.” He rushed out, obviously exhilarated, he yelled, “WE NEED A MEDIC!” I touched his forearm as he leaned over me, my words coming out a lot weaker than I had intended. “Pruet, I’m your medic.” He shook his head worried before helping me into a sitting position and I finally caught a glimpse of my leg... I could only feel a dull pain thanks to the peacebloom tincture, as the bone poked through the loose bandage that Pruet attempted to fashion on. I touched the area and the pain rose, I tilted my head to the other side and vomited. I needed to reset it and use a cantrip or something or else I would bleed out. I grabbed my leg on two sides, as Pruet propped himself on me for support. “This isn’t going to be pretty so look away.” He looked away as my gloved hands snapped my foot back into place. I yelled in pain and quickly assessed my work, as tears dripped down my cheeks. Not perfect but it would have to do. I used a few cantrips, flash of light. The light seared the flesh back together, now for the test... can I walk? “Help me up.” I said to Pruet as he pulled me up.

That sense of vertigo returned, as I looked to the mountains that lined the horizon, dizziness from the blood loss, and pain as I tried to put weight on my leg. Honestly, at least I could limp. I wasn’t dead, so that’s always a good sign. I picked up my mace and my shield and we marched towards the steps where half my team were gathering the fallen. “Head count. How many left Beta?” I looked over to one of the shield barers’ who was silently counting, “We lost fourteen. I’m not sure how many left from Pye’s squad, Lieutenant.” I looked over the few members of my team that were left, most of them tending to their own wounds. “We need to re-group with Alpha, we don’t know what we face, but surely it can’t be worse than that.”

I was wrong. After tending to a few of the soldiers’ wounds and using the last of my bandages on the few that were able enough for the fight that lay ahead of us, we marched up the steps to see a horror that was once our secret weapon to flank our western assault, Grong. Scarred from battle, eyes blazing with fury and... raised.... 

“AGHHHHH” Roars the former ally as he raised his skeletal fists into the air and crashed them down up Pye’s forward line attempting to calm the beast, and failing... obviously. “Oh, Light.” I mutter under my breath, carrying my wounds up the last steps looking back to the remnants of my team, “BETA! Flank Grong on the left side! Divert his attention so alpha isn’t taking all the blows! Move, Move!” I could read the hesitancy, the fear from them but this... this has to be done. I limped toward Pye who was directing another line of men towards the beast, “What the fuck are you doing? We need to distract the beast, not send the lambs to slaughter!-” I pulled him back by his pauldrons just in time for the beast to lock eyes with me, sniffing loudly and giving me a devilish grin, it smelled blood. My blood. It lumbered towards us, a combination of decaying flesh and fur, muscle and exposed bone. It reeked.

Grong went in for a slam as Pye tackled me on the right sending us flying from the impact. My leg and arm recoiled in pain but otherwise we weren’t pancakes. Pye coughed as the dust around us settled before scowling me, “Look Kain, he was on our side, how was I supposed to know that it’s out to kill us now?” I shook my head, “Pye, with all do respect, it’s obviously not anymore.” I got up and observed our surroundings, the beast was now heading over onto the left side - distracted by Beta, good. I raised my hand towards Pye who was still laying on the ground. “Together. We need to raise hell instead of join it, Commander.” He looked to me, taken aback by my words, but they were true to a certain degree. He grasped my extended hand, lifting himself up, I unsheathed my mace and shield and he grabbed his polearm from the ground, smiling at me. “Kain, you are going to make one hell of a Colonel someday.” I smiled back to him, “Don’t get all warm and fuzzy on me, we’ve got giant undead gorilla to kill.”

18. The Battle of Dazar’Alor

Gamma and Delta met us at the third step to the palace with a medical team to carry the wounded down to the ships. I declined a stretcher, instead I limped down the barren city with the few members left of our platoon that could still walk. As I looked behind us, the carnage of the mangled gorilla corpse, just in the distance, gnomish bombs blew a hole into the infiltration point -  into the pyramid like structure to gain access to the throne room. We did it. Our job was done. 

As we boarded the ships, tidesages greeted us before raising hell for the horde counter attack. We disembarked, not knowing the outcome of everything we had sacrificed. Everyone we lost. Great men and women who fought to protect the sanctity of our freedoms, and died. The shine of the capitol and smokestacks soaring high into the overcast sky as we sailed into the distance. Sailing home.

(OOC: Hi, hello, hey, I’m back. Much needed vacation from work and life. Inspiration has been evading me since I got back, but I feel it slowly starting to filter back in. This entry has been in the works for over a month, and my first introduction into writing combat. I would absolutely love any and all feedback so I can improve as a writer. Thanks for taking the time to read, many adventures for Thea and Silas here soon. Next few entries are going to be Thea focused since I have a TON of catch up to do, since she went to the Blooming Fest in Pandaria, and Howling Owl, and of course her journey back home from war. Exciting things! Anyway, have a great day everyone <3)

[kainfamilyfortune]

Alaska.1  -  2019

(OOC - I went on a cruise recently hence why I’ve been away from writing and creating content, but hey got to exercise my photography muscles and relax, so here’s my first photo dump.)

[kainfamilyfortune]

First video! Planning the next one on breaking down character archetypes! Feel free give a follow if you want to see more content like this! Thanks!

[kainfamilyfortune]

Today is the start of something new. And I’m terrified.

OOC, obviously, I know this is far from what I normally post on here, but I figured I’d let any that are interested in on a secret project I’ve been working on between managing a million dollar company, RP engagements, and supporting my lovely wife who is exploding in the book critic space - something I’ve been working on over the last four weeks. I entered a contest.

TW: Anxiety, Agoraphobia, Depression, Suicide, Addiction.

So I wanted to go back to tell you a little bit about myself. I’m a bit of a jack of all trades, I’ve dabbled in many, many things over the years, one thing I fell in love with was photography due to an old relationship, of course. But truly I fell in love that day, with her perspective, her eye, and how I could use photography to tell a story. I wanted to be profound. So I picked up my Canon A-1, yes I shot film, and shot photos in strictly black and white for a year. They say that color captures the moment, but B&W captures the soul, and I honestly believed that. Still do. But eventually when I moved 3,000 miles away from her and we couldn’t make things work I dove into a severe depression. I was young, freshly 16, and the beginnings of anxiety began to creep and creep throughout that last year before the move.

Oregon is beautiful, but it wasn’t Florida - we moved at an inopportune time in my life, as all teenagers believe. Just before summer vacation. I shut myself in my room for nearly four months, becoming severely agoraphobic, I was not taking the move lightly. I had no friends, no entertainment since the main reason we moved was due to my parents going bankrupt, both loosing their 6-figure jobs. My parents divorced five months after moving. A blessing and a curse was we did not move up to Oregon alone. No, my parents were swingers, so they often swapped partners as I grew up, having to basically raise my younger brother, shielding him from that truth. I kept their secret even after they divorced. My brother only just found out after turning 21, after moving in with my mother and stepfather, back in sunny Florida.

But what kept me from ending it all? Xanax and Photography.

I had a passion and I was getting better and better. I began to dabble in stop-motion film, fine-art photography, eventually when I went to a new school, a charter school up in the woods of Culp-Creek, I began to dive deeper and deeper into making it my career. My junior year I was making documentaries, winning mayor’s art shows, and even selling my work in the local art-walks in the small town that we had moved to. But I was still an anxious mess. Still suffering from panic attacks. Eventually I didn’t want to go to the charter school anymore. Partly because my favorite teacher was leaving and also because the bus ride was killing me. Nearly an hour everyday, forced to sit still and not panic.

So, I transferred to the local public school for my senior year. I was ahead of all my credits. Nearly a straight-A student. I smoked cigarettes. I frequented the school counselor due to my panic attacks and all my teachers knew. But I took my work out into the hall to work on it, listening in. I didn’t have first or seventh period since I was ahead of my credits. I devoted time to being a teacher’s assistant and helping teach the videography course that was supported at the school. I worked at McDonald's as well and earned enough money to move out on my own after the second trimester and to upgrade all of my photography/video equipment. 

My senior project was a 25-minute documentary on mental-health and how art could be used as therapy, it won a few awards and got stellar marks on the board, but most of all it got recognition from the local news. I got picked up right after graduation by a media company in the next town up from where we were living. I also wanted to go to college and get my degree. I was the first to move out from my graduating class. Three days after. I worked for the media company, then the local news for one year. I dropped out of school my first term. I didn’t need school. I started vaping to quit smoking. I was still abusing Xanax though, I was up to 5MG every three hours to feel like I was still alive.

Then I started to work for a local vape shop on the side. Quit my news network job due to stress, and worked for a smaller media company making a weekly show. Eventually another year and a half had passed and I had a psychotic breakdown. The Xanax had stopped working. I lost insurance so I couldn’t get anymore, and I was loosing my jobs. My life’s work. I stopped photography that day.

I moved into a trailer for two months. I worked at a pizza hut, managing that place for a year as I became sober. I still vaped because it surrounded me with an amazing community of people who were in recovery. I had moved out of the trailer and in with an old friend. In that time frame I turned 21. I partied for one week and haven’t partied since. I told myself that sobriety is only thing that is going to keep me grounded. I helped a few friends start media companies, and vape shops and car dealerships, helping them with marketing, commercials, all that jazz. Hell, I even worked front counter for them when they needed it. Eventually I wanted to work for another vape shop, so I hit up a few friends and got into the biggest in the pacific northwest as a partner. I’ve been working here for the last 3 1/2 years. Managing one of their locations for nearly two. 

So. I turn 25 this year. I’m sober. I got married last year. And my mental health is considerably better than what it was in year’s past. Why am I terrified?

Well. If you can see from the picture, I built a set. I was watching my daily World of Warcraft videos and this video came up in my news feed from one of my favorite channels, WTBGold. He is announcing a contest and I think nothing of it for the first two weeks. Then I had an idea. What if I make a ‘How-to RP’ video from the perspective of someone who plays a fuck-ton of D&D, and RPG’s. And I had six days left in the contest to write a script, film a video, and edit it all together.

I made this in a feverish 9 1/2 hours worth of work on top of my already crazy schedule. So I don’t look at the camera a whole lot and I’m currently re-filming the entire thing with the new set. But I submitted it. And it was watched live on his stream for a bunch of people to watch and judge.

It was received very well. I don’t think I will win the contest though. The last two weeks have been tense since he has yet to release his winner. But initially from the strawpoll on stream I had won the RP category so hopefully it means I can still make viable content since it has been awhile and I’m rusty. I’m diving into this project head-first to make YouTube content, twice a week on top of everything I have going on, because dammit. I want to make something for myself again. 

I want to be passionate again.

If you care to follow me on this journey: KainFamilyFortune <-- Content will be up later this week once I finish editing it since I filmed it this morning. 

If you made it through this rant, thank you. I know this is a lot different than what I usually produce, and I promise I’m still working on Thea’s perspective to the Battle of Dazar’alor. Combat is not my strong suit.

Thank you, thank you , thank you , k bye, back to editing <3

[kainfamilyfortune]

Thank you so much Haime! 💛

Commission with Silas for @kainfamilyfortune

[kainfamilyfortune]

Silas - Journal Entry #45-47

45. Winter’s End

The journey back to Rustberg was almost uneventful, but my head was spinning - if it weren’t for the events that had transpired in the Ghostlands, it would had been routine. Nothing about this venture was like the days of old. Edmundo was surely gone, collected for the hefty bounty on our heads. I draped the cloak upon my head, still holding my skeletal hand, whispering cantrips to heal it on the boat ride across the Great Sea.

Spring was a beautiful sight to come home to, as snow began to melt away and flowers budding in the sunlight. Although most of the sky was covered in the same overcast - breaks in the clouds shown like rays bouncing around in all directions glittering the dripping roof tops. Steam rose off the muddy ground as the water slowly evaporated away. Wet earth was my second favorite smell, next to libraries, of course.

I walked down the docks and to my home away from home, speaking with Melisande at the tavern about my return, paying an advance on the same room I’ve found comfort in for the next week. I admired her curly locks of red hair, the glow of light that sparked from her dimples to her somewhat tired eyes of newly found motherhood. It reminded me of how much I missed out on being in the flesh, but I cared not to dwell so much on that. She passed the worn mug of the last stock of grapefruit ginger soda with a smile to me as I sat down to collect my thoughts. I pulled out my journal and the letter noticing the cipher within the texts. Edmundo’s last warning to me. He knew that I would find him, but how?

One by one patrons filtered in and then out, Perchedon played his guitar in melody of relaxing tunes until the staff yelled last call. I brought the now empty mug as Melisande was taking off her faded blue and ivory apron. I threw a few silver into the tip jar and hesitated a moment before leaning on the bar, “Mrs. Meadowshine, if I could borrow you for but a moment?” She nodded curiously but still showed a brilliant smile, “Of course, Mr. Kain.” I mirrored the smile in a more broken grin before hushing my tone, “You wouldn’t... You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who could secure safe passage to Mount Hyjal, would you?” She pondered for a moment, framing her hand around her chin, before sticking her hand out, pointing to Perchedon putting his guitar into his case. “I would seek Perch, he just returned from a small trip there.” I thanked her and I approached him as he was concluding a conversation with another Sin’dorei patron, “Perchedon, could I borrow you for a moment?”

We chatted for a moment about his latest trip and about his contacts to Hyjal, however it would be a one-way ticket that I sadly couldn’t commit myself to take. Too much risk to be on hostile territory without a guide or a way to return safely. I told him I would chat in more detail later, but that conversation would never come. It would not be out of offending, but out of risk. It was just far more of a danger than I would be willing to take.

I sat at an empty table, pondering my moves until I saw the child-like grin of a familiar Ren’dorei putting up her apron up from behind the back bar. Perch had mentioned Irielle on the trip, and maybe I could convince her to help on this endeavor as well. I attempted to flag her down.

 46. The Contract

The long stark grey hair was loosely set in a ponytail that flowed down the front of her chest as she gave me a wave and approached the table, setting down two drinks for us. She leaned on the table, grinning widely. Her frame, although small, was well defined with muscle structure like a dancer. The leather adorned pouches around her thighs and belt spoke a different reason for her agile nature. My guess is that she had at least twelve knifes on her at the least. Did it intimidate me? Well with the bounty on my head, yes. But she might be my only hope. My thoughts were ceased when she finally broke the silence with an excited tone, “Silas! How’s it going buddy? Questions eh? Well, lemme see if I can ‘elp: yes, I really am this amazin’, no, I’m not enchantin’ the drinks t’make people come back ‘ere, and dontcha worry, ‘m in every Monday!” I didn’t think it was possible for her grin to become more pronounced, but her lips stretched ear to ear. She grasped the chair adjacent to me and sat down resting her elbows in front of her. ”Go’on then, whatcha wantin’ t’know?”

I couldn’t help but smile at her jest. Her cheery atmosphere put my mind at ease slightly so I decided not to hold back as I leaned forward in the old wooden chair, "Well that explains why I've been here for three weeks! Kidding, Kidding, - No,  I was hoping you could enlighten me, I just spoke to Perchedon about seeking passage to Mount Hyjal, you see I'm... I'm looking for someone, an old colleague of mine, but I'm more so curious if you've explored much of the Rim? Specifically south of Nordrassil."

A faint grimace crosses Irielle’s features as she lifted her mug and takes a deep drink before continuing,  "Nordrassil. Aye, 'm familiar. Bloody forests for days n' more magic than sense in that place." She set down her mug, fingers tenting as she rests her chin on then with a tilt of her head, silver-blue eyes reflecting her grin. "This a friendly colleague? Nice lil' reunion yer plannin'?" Her fingers spread outwards as she rights her head, looking at me straight on, "Mail's easier than headin' out. 'specially with, y'know... M'dear ol' cousins are none too fond of yer folk at t’present. Burnin' the ol' tree n' all. But if yer bent on goin' you'll be needin' quite the guide. Won't no one be makin' that trip fer cheap."

I cupped the mug in my hands, measuring the Ren'dorei's heed of call, reminiscing my time with Dorene, "Aye, she helped ease... the transition when I was raised, the abundance of information we worked on to better everyone shaped me from being a priest to something much more."  I could feel my eyes falling onto my drink before lowering my voice into a careful whisper, "I can assure you that I don't favor this war, let alone associate myself with zealots or fanatics of the current warchief. Burning another tree is not my intention." I paused, a bit pained before shaking it off. "Mail can be intercepted, altered. The implications would be disastrous if she doesn't know that I'm still on her side.  I trust you all here at the Raven, I hope you don't-" I set the mug down grabbed a small worn parchment, sliding it over on the table to her. One of the wanted posters I had snatched on my journey here.

I breathed out hollowly, before continuing as she held the wanted poster "-I hope this doesn't change how you all perceive me... but, as far as coin is concerned, I can pay you double what it be to bring all of our heads on a pike, if you would be inclined to help me... and who's left of my colleagues, but I understand if you don't want to get involved... We were framed for the events on Arathi that cited this whole war in the first place, when Sylvanas herself killed my friends. This is just... 'clean up' in their eyes, ensuring no one can speak of the events that happened there. They already 'took care' of Edmundo." I finally looked up to measure Irielle’s expression before she read. I was surprised to see that the grin did not wane, on contrary it became more pronounced.

She raised her hand, shaking her head, ”No ‘fence meant, didn’t take ya the warmongerin’ type -don’t get many o’ those here. Lil’ ol’ village out by the sea... bit outta the way t’be lookin’ fer trouble. ‘Specially with it bein’ so easy t’find elsewhere.” Her tone stayed light and conversational, expression remaining in place as she read it over. ”Friend you were sayin’ aye? Go back a long while it sounds!” She stopped a moment in the middle of the scrroll, eyes widened as she let a low whistle, obviously from the bounty before rolling the parchment up before handing it back. ”Good o’ ya t’be trustin’, better o’ me t’not make like ye just showed me whatcha did. Folk may not be lookin’ for trouble, but word travels.” More loudly she added, ”And that’s why ya always camp upriver o’ druffalo!” 

She leaned forward with a good natured smile, fingers drumming against the wooden table absently. “Inspirin’ rebellion? That’s just right up m’alley!” With a shake of her head, Irielle rests her chin back in her hand and blinked at me. “‘M always inclined where gold’s involved, and yer offerin’ a big ol’ bag o’ it. Colour me interested!” Her eyes remained on me, before lifting her mug and drinking from it, smacking her lips as she sets it back down. ”But ya ‘aven’t told me what the job is just yet. We lookin’ fer your friends just t’find ‘em? To bring ‘em somewhere safe? To ‘elp clear yer names?” She tilts her head once more, offering a slight shrug. ”Two o’ those things I can be helpin’ with. Seein’ that yer not ‘taken care o’’ as well will be m’nice lil’ bonus for ya!” With a click of her tongue, Irielle winked playfully at me. ”Needin’ t’know what yer wantin’ done, and when yer wantin’ t’be leavin’.” I couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t her first gig. She was a natural at making it all seem so casual, before finally she pursed her lips solemnly,  “...n’ I’m sorry t’hear ‘bout yer friend.”

I nodded, the corner of my lips couldn’t help but quirk up in a broken grin, reassured. I looked over Irielle with careful consideration stowing the wanted poster in my satchel, and pulling the open journal closer to me on the table. I flipped back through the journal eyeing each section carefully before stopping on a particular page, placing a finger downward on it; it's strangely empty with one sentence in the very center as I recited it, "'The Beast Will Die. Hyjal.' That's all I've had to go on thus far, my library only can tell me so much... It was the only clue that Edmundo... that he could reasonably get to me. I'm certain he's dead, the roving war bands, bounty hunters' - they've all been enticed by this reward without even questioning why, but as I well know, history is doomed to repeat itself again and again." I flipped a few pages forward, "The letter that I recovered from the Ghostlands had the simple cipher in it at first glance, but a much more complicated one lay underneath - listing the locations of my friend Dorene, who was sent off to Hyjal for research on Kal'dorei, o' course. Lyndow's last location was strange... it's more of a riddle, but it can really be one of two places, either Un'goro crater, or Sholazar Basin. To answer your question; Clearing our names, but I have no idea how.”

“I'm... a bit higher profile than I've led on, the only reason why I'd have all this coin in the first place is due to publishing deals, and royalties on my written works. Coming up with a disguise, erasing some ledgers,  and laying low someplace just isn't my forte - nor would be assassination of the current war leaders. I'm lost. I need to make sure my friends even know if they are being hunted down. I know that this a lot to put on you at once. But I'm... innocent. The desolate council was innocent. Needless slaughter over wanting to finally be rid of war." I took a moment to close the journal, letting my holy quill ebb into dust on the table, as it slowly shifts like sand moving back into the center of my forearm, glowing softly in a warm golden aura. "This 'Beast' worries me because I have no idea what it could be. Maybe Dorene unearthed some golem relic that would be used to defend the World Tree, but laid dormant for so long that it lost it's essence until someone reawakens it. I've pondered over thousands of ideas... tends to happen when you don't sleep and take long walks."

Irielle listened in silence, nodding on occasion as she sipped at her drink before speaking, ”So ya think there might be three of yous left.” She shakes her head briefly, ”Never been much good at riddles me, ‘n ‘m no fan of whatever thing yer friend might ‘ave been findin’ in Hyjal. But! If it’s a proper beast, it can b’killed. ‘N that’s a spot o’ good news, aye? Un’goro, Sholazar -they aren’t right next door to Hyjal. Would be wastin’ good time t’go to the wrong one. With luck we’ll be findin’ yer friend in Hyjal - Dorene?-” She pauses, confirming the name with a nod, ”Dorene, ‘n mayb she’ll ‘ave ‘ad word from Lyndow. Or not, if y’all are outta touch ‘n the like.” Irielle paused a moment before reaching for her own pack, placing a well-worn, soft leather notebook on the table and flipping it up to what appeared to be a sort of calendar showing the previous, current, and two future months. Various notes were scrawled within, all in shorthand and barely legible.

”Mmm... mm, yeah alright here we are then, how ya feelin ‘bout a short stop up in Silithus? Gotta delivery to make t’an Orc with the Earthern Ring down ‘ere n’ I don’t right ‘pect any would be expectin’ ya out that way. From what yer sayin’ we’re t’be avoidin’ cities n’ the like, so portals to the big spots are well on out but...” She taps a finger against the crammed pages, ”Might know a gal who can get us a portal ‘cross some o’ Kalimdor at least, but after that...” Irielle tilts her head, ”Would wantin’ t’be sayin’ boat, but ye’ve Darkshore to the West n’ Orgrimmar at the East -problems ‘nough without the blockades n’ all. So!” She makes a quick note in the book, before sliding it back towards her, ”S’a good thing yer not needin’ t’sleep much, as we’ll be doin’ a right spot o’ walkin’!” Raising her mug, Irielle grins and takes a drink, ”I’ve taken t’trainin’ when ‘m not able t’be sleepin’ meself, helps put t’energy somewhere that ain’t goin’ over the same things o’er n’ o’er again in m’min’ n’ all.” She shrugs, ”Y’might be wantin’ to try it sometime. Or, y’know, whatever the priest-like version o’ that is.” With a nod, Irielle looks about the tavern, lifting a hand in passing to one of the departing regulars, ”We travel light, take only whatcha absolutely be needin’. Are ya like Rem? Not eatin’ or drinkin’? Will save some coin, that.”

With a breath of relief I smiled my broken grin, "Consider it paid, not to double dip of course, but I can fund any transport, food, bedrolls, whatever you need for the trip. I have been wanting ta' see the sword up close, haven't made my way to Kalimdor in quite some time for...obvious reasons. It'll be an Ol' fashioned adventure. But yes, although I haven't formally met Rem, I've seen her rifle from across the bar, somewhat intimidating, I stayed clear due to the last Forsaken I butted heads with here... but I drink out of social atmosphere and not out of necessity. Can't keep food down if I tried, it literally goes straight through me, so I pack light," I gestured to my satchel "Although it doesn't look like it, I've got a portable library right here should you get bored with training the body and wish to train the mind. I wish I could sleep though, closest I'll ever get is meditation, so yes, that'll be the priest equivalent."

I took the last swig of my drink setting the mug down gently, looking over Irielle with a profound earnest "I hope Vynix or the other staff don't mind you leaving here for a little while, but you're really doing me a great kindness, gold aside. It means a lot to me and my colleagues'." I fished out a larger coin purse. "Speaking of gold, here is twenty-five now. This should do some talking to any of the dockmasters or mages as well as to let you get outfitted in whatever you might need now. We can discuss the rest once we get to Hyjal. Deal?" The drawstring on the coin purse slacks a bit exposing a shimmer of coin as I slid it over to her.

47. Receiver of Ash

We were to leave in the coming weeks. Irielle would do the talking as to not put me in too much exposure. I would lay low in the comfort of the tavern as I always had - but she did urge me to stay indoors, which was easier said than done. I need my walks, so I would retreat into my library from time to time. Now... Although I don’t speak about the library much, I feel like I should boast about the newer renovations that I learned from Lyndow. Although he and I were very different as he loved the arcane - he gave me all the tools and tricks he could to expand it in the future. What started out as a few bookcases and writer’s nook, now spanned a great hall and small garden. 

Every collection of first editions I had procured, recovered writings from lands far away, lay before me at my finger tips. A small alchemist station that I have yet to ever use next to the garden that had seen better days. I would need to spend time tending to it, learning of some of the rarer herbal properties in this small window of time that has been allotted to me. I gave Irielle a key to my room, not that she would need one - she could easily enter through the window, but in doing so I hope she realizes the level trust I put in her and the staff here at the Raven. My bag lay on the stool across from the bed waiting for the special phrase I shared to her before I left her. ‘Doras fosgailte dhut’ - ‘Doors, open to you.’ a little phrase I had picked up in an older Gilnean dialect. 

Finally I looked to the first bookcase, devoted only to my journals. Dozens of them charred to a crisp, papers torn out and lay strewn across the floor. Like my mind it was utter chaos of thoughts, regrets and then towards the end it would find some semblance of hope in this world I have awoken in. I have learned so much in the last six years. So much so that I have wanted to throw it all away time and time again. I was still coming to terms. I missed sleeping. I missed dreaming. I missed being. Existing was one thing, being was far greater - truly breathing air, tasting fine wines and not knowing when death will claim you. I missed out on love, but not loss. I experienced hope granted to me by the Light only to have it pain me in resurrection. A sickness that never truly goes away. My peers always seemed to feel like I wouldn’t last another year until I carried onward. Now I’ve outlived them all.

I don’t know when this daydream started but I felt every fiber of bone dust shatter as my consciousness rose above the vaulted ceilings into the void that was this tiny universe that I had created for myself. My books fell away and I was left in the darkness. It was peaceful for but a moment. Then the same icy chill crawled up in my mind as I came at rest in unfamiliar space.

My fingers clutched the cool metallic chair, as I watched the ghostly reflection of the same young girl dressed in mixture of plate and mail. She seemed lost, no longer a puppet for the queen of death to manipulate. The brazier erupted with a gentle maroon flame as she sat down across from me as I took in the new surroundings. Kal’dorei architecture overgrown with vines entangling every corner as she let her hammer sway side to side off her belt adorned with a tome much like my own. She spoke in an ethereal way penetrating my being, as her frame scattered in dust just to reconstitute again, “You see me, don’t you?”

Under my shaky breath I could only muster “I do.” She nodded before looking behind her as another figure approached, dissipating the mirage - she was gone, replaced by a cloaked figure who took the seat across from me. The figured draped the hood exposing rotting flesh as she opened a tome of her own. The binding of which had a distinct golden filigree, ‘D.D’. Dorene. She didn’t seem to acknowledge me as I waved my arms furiously to grab her attention. I attempted to stand but I was locked in the chair. This was hopeless. Finally I screamed, “Why have you brought me here? What is this torment?”

Dorene looked up, wide eyes met mine as the airy voice spoke, “This torment is your own. I may not be able to control everyone precious in your life, but I know this one will hurt. She is so close to figuring out the properties of the beast. My servant. She is my puppet now, and she shall die because of your decision Silas Kain. Oathbreaker. Soon your soul will be mine once again. Now shoo.” With that breath Dorene’s eyes lit with the intensity of an arcane star as I burst away in ash, falling and falling into the dark filled void.

I collapsed into my chair as I slipped and fell from leaning back in my now, no longer empty library. Irielle sat above me with an curious expression, legs crossed on one of the many book crates that litter the great hall with two mugs in hand. A laugh bellowed from her as she grinned “’Enjoy yer trip?”

She had not a clue. This trip was just the beginning.

OOC: A very, very special thanks to @irielle-firine for the creative prose over discord! Was a ton a fun - with a lot more fun to be had in the future! Other mentions: @perchedon, @melisandemeadowshine, and a soft mention to @thornbolts (Would love to RP with you one of these days, since I love your character entries and art that I view from afar) and of course @heartoftheravenwra for being such an amazing escape on Monday nights! 

Big things coming, with the Hyjal Campaign as well as I’ve been working on Thea’s perspective of the Battle of Dazar’alor, I can not wait to share those entries with you since it’ll be my first time really fleshing out written combat which has been amazing practice for me as a budding writer. 

I finally feel like I’m going somewhere with my writing and I can’t thank the few people that have joined me on this little journey. I’m coming up on nearly one year for this story in my head and RP in general since I started playing WoW back in Mid-May of last year. So thank you. Truly.

I hope you all have fantastic week ahead, cheers!

[kainfamilyfortune]

Thea - Journal Entry #11-13

11. Unto Me

It felt as if a weight had been put unto me, as I was jarred awake from the dream that I had experienced. I fashioned my chain mail armor, clasping the plated boots and lacing pauldrons onto my shoulders, tracing the golden lines as I secured my gloves. It was all so heavy. Not my gear that I had grown accustomed to over the last five years in service to the king, no, this weight came from the realization that I didn’t know the true history of my name. Silas was never commended, nor mentioned. He was our savior, not Andrew. I needed closure on someone who could just be a figment of my imagination. It was a dream after all. I needed to write to Pap.

Pap,

I wanted to write to you, not because I believe this to be my final goodbye to you, although we march on the Zandalari capitol tomorrow morning at dawn, so I guess, yes. It could be. My wish is to seek knowledge on our lineage. You have always been one to carry our family history proudly on your shoulders and I want to carry that legacy, but I must know. Did Andrew have a brother when he left the Arathor camps in Tirisfal? Does the name Silas mean anything to you?

I had a dream about him, but I’m not sure if it is just my mind playing tricks on me, or if Silas really did exist. He saved Andrew in my dream.

I love you. Light find you.

Thea

I hastily ripped the page out of my journal and secured it in the nearest envelop I could find sitting on a few barrels and walked out of the crowded hull, passing by the soldiers I would be leading into battle as they were adorned in the standard issue vestments. The morning sky of Boralus was breathtaking but I didn’t have time to take it all in, calls of docks-men blaring out orders as they carried shipments of ammunition, arrows and bullets on carts to the cranes to on board them to the neighboring vessels. I rushed off the ship through the chaos, helmet under my shoulder, letter in hand. Mailbox... Mailbox... There. I deposited the envelope, and turned to find two commanders flanking me, they saluted and I mirrored the action before going at ease.

The burly commander that I had met with the King’s Consul, Commander Osian Pye, looked at me with careful consideration before speaking in a gruff tone, “Ms. Kain, now is not the time to be writing letters, your attendance is required for the all-hands. Follow us.” They turned and began walking towards the barracks, it was a bit of a walk but it gave me time to finally admire the Tiragarde mountain line. I could hear bells ringing and hollering of workers from the docks as we made our way through the bustling, seemingly floating, city on the harbor. The sea salt spray of air was something that I would surely not get used to in the short time we were here, but I would surely come here again for the beautiful buildings and lush gardens. Ma would have had a field day seeing it all.

We approached the barracks, overlooking the lines of soldiers in the courtyard, weaving in the classic royal blue and gold with dark sage and brown from both armies. Commander Pye gave me a curt nod before going to the team he would be leading and I found mine. I walked down the stairs, eyeing each soldier carefully, inspecting gear, stance, posture, everything I was trained to look for to be out of place. I paused in front of a boy, maybe seventeen, small stubble of facial hair and shockingly blue eyes dressed in mage robes  - he slouched slightly to the right, I raised my hand to him, sharply tapping the back of his shoulder blade, aligning his spine - he flinched, my jaw clenched in the silent exchange before throwing my authoritative voice in his direction, calmly as I paced in front of him, “You see your mark, a heavy-set Orc about fifteen yards ahead of you, in a narrow alley. He wields a mace, dressed in red robes made of loose fitting chain mail. Behind him you see a troll mother and her infant child. You don’t want to throw a fireball because then you would surely kill innocents, but your target is inching ever closer to your demise. What do you do?”

His face is fearful, but his eyes dart around, looking for the answer in his book riddled brain as he begins to stutter out an answer, “I-I...I imbue myself...with erm.. fire armor, although it’s- it’s volatile, surely I can wait for hi-is approach and deflect his mace causing him to back fire all his energy unto him.” The sweat dripped into his brow as he finished his assessment.

“With that posture. No.” I slapped his spine for correction, hard enough to surely leave a lingering bruise, as he flinched in pain again. “You show too much weakness, your stance will cause you to topple as he earth charges into you, you clearly didn’t listen.” I paced in front of him letting him breath heavily a moment in confusion, before he blurted out, “Wha-What?” I backhanded him in discipline to not speak out of turn, as he grasped his cheek, recoiling in pain. I addressed the eavesdropping team. “You will speak, when spoken to. You will follow every order I say. Your lives are in my hands, and if I have any of you fall out of line then you will surely die in the most dangerous place on this earth. Do I make myself clear?”

In unison my newly appointed team barked out, “Crystal.” and my attention came back to the freshly recruited mage, “The correct answer was to counter his totem, then use your fire armor for his approach, and instead of hoping it would back fire, shift your weight forward so that you use his weight against him. You are small, he is large. Use that your advantage.”

12. Fortitude

The rest of the day flew by with training exercises and drills, weapon diagnoses, and finally briefing the teams on the routes we would be taking. We would be taking the left sector up to the capitol while the second team led by Pye would be taking the right. Our sector would be the most crucial as we would be covering not only the port of call on the western edge of the city but also dealing with four sectors of troll tribes up the three steps in order to securely venture down into what we were referring as the ‘Opulence Chamber’ as there is less guarded passage way leading to the King’s throne, for teams three and four to go as soon as we were done with occupation of the city. If we were successful. All of it rides on the distraction teams currently heading to Nazmir.

The last few hours were anxiety-riddled. The captain and admiral who were leading the third and fourth teams were taking a nap in the makeshift war room, dimly lit by candles as the sun set on the harbor. Pye sat in his chair looking over notes of his own and I carefully analyzed the map, counting out the steps and turns silently to myself before Pye perked up for conversation, “I saw what you did in the courtyard, Pruet’s a good kid, just not initiated yet. Never seen a real battle in his life.”

I paused my counting, writing a tally on my notes and placing both hands upon the table where the worn map sat, “He shows promise Pye, just no backbone. Why in the hell did they assign him, I thought we were dealing with the best of the best here?”

His fingers were woven into one another as he leaned back in his chair with a coy grin upon his face, “He was the top of his class in Dalaran, but you can have all the book smarts in the world and still not get anywhere. I’m just saying, go easy on him.”

This infuriated me, sparking a straw I had to pick with the guy who seemed to continually undermine me. “He’s already had it easy, being held up in his floating city with his books and friends. Treating anyone easy doesn’t build strength or earn respect or win wars. He needs to damn well know who’s truly out kill him and face it.”

His coy smile faltered slightly before he corrected himself as shifted back in his chair, he leaned on the table, “Spoken like a true Orc, Kain.” He bellowed in aggressive laughter. “’Lok'tar ogar’ - You may have had years of discipline and training only some of us wish we had, you were a damned prodigy. You haven’t had it hard in your life no more than anyone else may had have in theirs. Quit your fucking judgement and start fulfilling your promises to this army.”

My temper got the better of me, that was the one thing the Argent Crusade couldn’t whittle away from me. I yelled, “Judgement?! Speak for your own damned self! I’m trying to forge soldiers, not cowards like you. I read your file, you lost control of your own men and fled in Dustwallow, which would had turned the tide in the war, maybe Theramore wouldn’t have been bombed because you. You should had kept to your own, instead of worrying about my promises, because as far as I see it, I’m actually making a difference here.”

His eyes flared as he stood, throwing his journal with such ferocity onto the table, not speaking a word for a moment as he processed his anger which now turned to sadness. His tone was soft, concise. “I regret that day, more than you will ever know. The marsh drove them mad, beasts that would make anyone run, not only that but Horde opposition. I had save my own sanity-” I caught him off.

“To save yourself? Letting thirty men find their own way in that harsh landscape to just die? You said it yourself - you haven’t had it hard in your life no more than anyone else. Imagine how they must had felt then. If you disciplined your men, actually trained them, you may have been the war hero you think you are.” I spat that last line out and he knew I was right. He sat back down, staring at the floor.

“I paid my price when I had to inform the families. They lashed out in anger. Varian was going to have my head, but as aggressive as he was back then he could still see that I could lead. I was demoted of course, but you and I are tacticians built for war. Difference is you are still wide-eyed. Uninitiated to lose everything around you in an instant, and before you open your fucking mouth about Lordaeron, know that you weren’t the only one who lost their home. I miss Tirisfal as much as you do. No, what lays in front of you is loosing your sense of security, your humble greetings, your ale on a harsh winter’s night, all the people you love. You’ll grow tired of the fighting and politics. You will grow to be loved until a major mistake changes you and everything around you, and when you see the faces of those families, the agony of lose you experience will be pain worse than many swords piercing in your now laden heart.”

I paused for a moment, admiring the wisdom of such words coming from a cold shell of a man who had experienced so much with the second and third wars, despite my judgement, the finely made double edged sword he had crafted with his words - I knew that he was right. I remembered when I told Dustin’s family about his passing, carrying out their wishes and digging his grave and burying him. On the other side of the hilt I knew his words were wrong because I have so much more left to give to this world besides fighting and politics. Will I grow tired of it? On that hand he would be right, but I hope that eventually we will live in a world of peace, or at least a world that doesn’t need to show a strength of great power at every turn of events. I stayed silent, looking a somber man as he grabbed his journal and left the room, I looked towards the captain and admiral, who had stirred awake from the argument and had stayed silent this entire time. Awkwardly, I smirked at them before continuing to make tallies on the map of the battle ahead.

13.  Word of Glory

The next hour, I copied down the finished plans. I think I have best situation I could muster out of the terrible hand we’ve been dealt with. The bells rang and then everyone fell in line awaiting deployment to the ships. The nervous ticks of my comrades shown brighter than we all would had liked but we we kept pushing forward as we made our way through the bustling docks, despite the eerie blanket of stars that cloaked the city in night, it still was as lively as it was in day. The ship groaned and creaked as we boarded the vessel. As everyone embarked, I couldn’t help but still have the lasting words of Pye ringing in between my ears. It could be my anxiety resurfacing, but I needed to stay to the task at hand. I needed to remove emotion as Andrew would had done, maybe that is why he never mentioned his brother. Maybe that is why Silas was forgotten.

The final bells rang.

The ship floated onto the dark crystal sea.

The sails grew with ferocity, bellowing with a healthy wind mustered by the tidesages.

Sleep would evade me as I admired the last look at the stars that twinkled in the distance. 

This was it.

The first step will be hardest.

Light find me.

OOC: So I took a long break. Needed to refresh my mind - I’ve been slowly trying to build and build and build character progression. I’m still new to all of this and I appreciate the people that have been reading the story so far. RP engagements have been evading me as of recently since I just get to caught up in work and life per usual. Hope you all have a wonderful week. Hoping to sit down and get a few entries going for Silas soon. 

If you wanna get caught up:

Devotions - Book I

Thank you <3

[kainfamilyfortune]

Thea - Journal Entry #10

10. Leaps of Faith

The gentle tug and pull of the ship lulled me into a restless sleep last night as we made our way closer and closer to the Kul Tiran capitol of Boralus. I couldn’t help but wake upon the cot next to my new comrades, feeling the anxious ties as they too toss and turn. The eyes of a Gilnean woman met mine in the dimly lit hull - I could see the face worn by so much loss and hardship, and I hoped she could see the strife that I had in my life as well mirroring her expression. She cracked a hopeful smile before closing her eyes, her long dark hair covering half of her face as she embraced the frayed linens, peacefully whisking away into slumber.

I had fear in my judgement, Light being my guiding hand, that I wasn’t strong enough for this. Leadership may be in my blood, but this was further than what even Pap told me of Andrew Kain, first in the family, who was bestowed the gift of the Light. He helped the first immigrants of humans travel from Tirisfal to Westfall, then the Kain name traveled back north to settle all throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, “All we have is our legacy.” I could hear Pap say, but all I could feel was pressure to bestow a line of kin, bare a child in a cluster fuck of a war-ridden world. I was truly the last Kain.

I stared at the ceiling of the ship for a long while, hearing the uneasy snores of those who I would fight alongside in the coming days, before calming... thinking of far beyond where I was.

I opened my eyes, as I stood from the dilapidated cot, smelling the lush forest. I have never been here, I thought. The only place that this reminded me of was home, but much more overgrown and raw, as I looked off into the distance I could see a lake and... Arathor banners around a small plateau of tents and huts, and the makings of a small castle. This was Tirisfal. I was home. I turned to where our humble abode would be, to find nothing but a few tents and a gentle fire under the twilight sky. Two boys about my age sat across from one another talking, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying so I walked over to them and waved to get their attention but they didn’t acknowledge my approach. The conversation become much clearer, “So you’re actually going through with it, eh brother?” the darker amber haired, broad shouldered boy said.

The other boy, bald with soft amber eyes and sharp chin answered, “Aye, Andrew, I’m afraid I won’t be able to join the caravans. Besides they need me to take care of the sick, this disease is... it’s not looking well. The High Priest has already started to show signs... clammy hands, high fever, the coughing... we fear that he... he isn’t going to make it.” His sentence breaks off as a few tears begin to well up in his eyes, before wiping them away.

“Silas, we need you. Kobolds and Gnolls are the least of our fears as we travel south. We need a good priest to spread the message of the Light. I need my brother.” Andrew nods in an encouraging way, but gives a frank smirk knowing that the other boy has already made his choice.

“You’re the leader. You always have been. Ma and Pap, they- they would be proud. So proud-.” He stops, looking up in my direction, as I step upon a twig breaking the silence, “You’d better check that out.”

“Aye.” Andrew mouths, approaching me at a vigorous pace, mace in hand as it flared in light, two paces away from me before he passes straight through me. I wasn’t here. This was a dream, and I was left alone with the one named Silas, as he looked straight at me with a curious look, not speaking a word. 

“You see me, don’t you?” I spoke, breaking the silence. Anxiety welled up in my throat burning like acid. I was met with silence for a moment before Andrew walked past me dragging the carcass of a limp boar.

“That’s going to be a good dinner.” Silas said, his eyes still staying vigilant on me, before shaking his head and standing up to help his brother hang the boar upon the fire pit, flames licking the freshly skinned flesh. Good they couldn’t see me. I approached the fire, sitting down on a third log between the two, I couldn’t help but appreciate the brother’s silence as they cooked their dinner under the now dimming sky, the songs of crickets in the wood and snapping of embers in the fire, looking closely at each one’s features. Andrew was built, like he had spent most of his days chopping logs and carrying heavy loads for this newly found kingdom. His eyes matched my dark amber ones and button nose gave him a warmth in his rounder still boy like face, as he stared at Silas across the fire with earnest. Silas’s sharp features lulled downward looking towards the boar as he twirled the fire spit, his thinner, spindly build showed that he wasn’t much of a fighter, robes clean, seemed like he was a priest in the making.

Silas stopped and got up, grabbing a knife, admiring the boar skin as he stretched it up a tanning rack, as he began to trim the hairs. His careful movements were calculated and precise. He was interrupted by Andrew as he began coughing, “Alright brother?” He asked from behind. I looked to see Andrew covering a hand now drenched in fresh blood as he attempted to clear his throat. “Aye.. Aye-” He coughed again and again. Silas approached him now with a slight panic, “The dinner can wait, Come now.” He moved the boar off the spit with one hand, conjuring light to hold the other end and then grabbed his brother by the shoulder and walked him towards the main camp.

I followed the two, stars showing the way, as Silas struggled to drag Andrew up the hill. Finally they made it to what I assumed to be an infirm tent. The largest in the camp, paled only by the ground work of the castle to be built around them. He carefully set Andrew down as another priest assisted, procuring a combination of herbs into a mortar and pestle and feeding it to him, Silas dabbed a cold rag around his neck and forehead. Andrew looked up from the cot to Silas and said weakly, “I’m-I’m fine brother. Does the fever come so quick to kill?” He attempted a jest, laughing at first then proceeded into a coughing fit.

“Rest brother. A cure is coming.” Another tear stroke down upon his cheek as the priest flanking Silas rested a hand upon his shoulder. I couldn’t watch this... Andrew couldn’t have died. He didn’t. I exited the tent and watched the sky for a moment, night blanketing the scenery in an eerily similar fashion to my youth, then the turned into day, then to night again, then day, then night. It was dizzying that I shut my eyes for a moment wanting the shock to subside. When I opened them again it had stopped, and I heard crying from behind me.

I entered the tent to find Silas, knelt over the body of Andrew, tunic covered in blood, and four other priests encroached upon him. He was dead. Truly. The woman who had put a hand upon Silas’s shoulder tried to do so again, but he shook it off. “Leave me.” he muttered under tearful jerks, “Leave. Now.” They seemed to be apprehensive at first, but then acknowledged his grief as they exited the tent. Silas arose, wiping away his tears and draped a cloth upon the frame of his brother. He stood there a moment in silence before lifting his arm and snapping his fingers, light filtering underneath the burly build of a man kiting him a few feet into the air. Levitating him slowly towards where I stood.

I followed the two brothers once again, instead of going to the camp where they would have had a jovial meal, to the newly built under croft. I could feel Silas’s aura, his warmth, it matched that of when I lost Dustin, although something was much more raw about it. A soft light from the sun basked the entry way, with flower petals of previous ceremonies of loved ones were showered in remembrance, as the torchlight cancelled the next flight down into the darkened crypt.

Finally we reached the inner chamber, Silas knelt down in the center snapping his fingers and gently laying his brother as he began to pray. “Light, I’ve come to you this day with the heaviest burden upon my shoulders. I have given to you all that I am, all that I ever will be, to see my mother, my father and now my brother die at the hand of disease and misfortune upon this land. Please here my call. Please help me resurrect my brother. My Andrew. So that he can lead these people to greater heights, ones’ that they can’t even imagine.”

I stared at him as he was met with silence, resurrections were not that simple, surely he knew this. I wanted to comfort him, but as I took a step forward the room... the weight shifted. Air felt like it was pulling in from all directions around a singular point. Andrew Kain. The flames sucked inward from the torches as they were extinguished, the only glow in the room was a faint holy aura from Silas and a shimmer in front of him, as the sultry female voice spoke out from the void, “A barter must be made to continue young priest…”

Light. No.

“What do you ask of me? Please save him… he deserves to be in good health.  He has much good in him.” He pleaded, tears streaking his face. As the shimmer caressed the corpse, and began to glow vibrantly, then dim once more. Time felt like it had paused to admire this moment, as he waited, and waited. Andrew began to cough, but not that of violent disease, no. Life was pouring back into him before weakly he grasped at Silas’s hand, with a wide smile. “Silas...”

Before he had a moment to embrace Andrew laying before him, the shimmer spoke again. “A barter has been reached.” As Silas’s body collapsed upon the crypt floor. 

A life for a life.

His funeral was nothing like I ever saw. Tears struck my own eyes as I relived it, honoring the memory of one of the first Light wielders. The one my family chose to forgot or was lost to time itself. Or the one I made up. Because before I knew it, I was being startled awake to get ready for departure. Boralus Awaits.

(OOC Notes! 

Wanna Catch-up? ----> Here!

I wanted to explore a few themes with this one, figured now would be a good time to start to blur the story lines between the two muses and wanted to challenge myself in what would that time be like in Silas’s life, while offering a canon ‘origin story’, while at the same time have Thea be introduced to Silas as this distant past relative that the family doesn’t acknowledge or speak of. Hmmm Wonder why? 

I cannot wait to start writing the Battle of Dazar’alor, I’m about to actually do that in-game with Thea (Since I got her to ilvl330 this morning) once I jump through another week worth of WQ’s, LFR’s and Warfronts! Since I don’t technically main Alliance it’s been super great feeling. For now I wish you all a happy week! Thank you so much for reading if you got this far! <3)

[kainfamilyfortune]

Devotions - Book I

Hi! Forest here; I figured I’d start to organize all the journal entries of my muses here going over the few story arcs I’ve been working on over the last year, in canonical order. Although I’ve strayed away from dates, since In-Game time is different than the actual canonical timeline in World of Warcraft, I wanted to give a loose timeline of events based upon patch dates OOC just to organize my thoughts. More will be added as time goes on and as story lines begin to blur and converge.

Devotions - Book I

Silas Kain Journal Entry #1 - Pre-’Before The Storm’ <---Worth the listen!

Silas Kain Journal Entry #2 - Pre-Patch (7.3.5)

Silas Kain Journal Entry #3 - Pre-Patch (7.3.5)

Thea Kain Journal Entry #1 - Post-’BTS’ - Battle of Lordearon

Thea Kain Journal Entry #2 - War of Thorns/Fall of Teldrassil

Thea Kain Journal Entry #3 - Start of Battle for Azeroth (BFA 8.0.1)

Silas Kain Journal Entry #28 - BFA (8.0.1)

(Note: So much has happened in the time between where we had last left off with Silas, such as him joining the Academic Division of the Jadewind Coalition within the village of Tian Monastery and his research with them. Along with that but he figured out the outcome of the Desolate Council, I left out these entries because of how emotional they were. In character I saw him tear out entries #4-#27 and burn them. He set off for Stormsong Valley where he had heard whispers of a tablet to be rid of the Light, where he had essentially given up due to the amount of lose he endured. He was luckily saved and found a purpose, but as further entries show, it may have come at great cost; reawakening something much darker and further in his past.)

Silas Kain Journal Entry #31 - BFA, Tides of Vengeance (8.1), Winter’s Veil

Silas Kain Journal Entries #32-34 - BFA, ToV (8.1)

Silas Kain Journal Entries #35-37 - BFA, ToV (8.1)

Silas Kain Journal Entries #38-41 - BFA, ToV (8.1)

Thea Kain Journal Entry #9 - BFA, ToV (8.1.5), Battle of Dazar’alor

(Note: Entries #4-#8 were left out because they were at time where Thea was in between deployments when she was volunteering for the Church of Light in Stormwind, as a Faithkeeper, where she attended sermons, performed blessings, kept watch over the crypts and graveyards and didn’t have a lot of time to devote to writing cohesive and meaningful thoughts - she would jot down how her day was and the patrols/duties she fulfilled, but minus this not much of interest.)

Silas Kain Journal Entries #42-44 - BFA, ToV (8.1.5)

Thea Kain Journal Entry #10 - BFA, ToV (8.1.5)

Thea Kain Journal Entries #11-13 - BFA, ToV (8.1.5)

The story continues! Again I’ll be updating this as soon as I have new entries available since this is an ongoing storyline. I appreciate everyone that has taken the time to read through this crazy adventure. If you want to get a hold of me, I can PM my discord info or we chat on here if you have any questions, comments, concerns. Cheers!

-Forest

[kainfamilyfortune]

Silas - Journal Entry #42-44

42. Echoes.

I was surprised the most by the change in the air - how the endless fall of the Eversong forest leaves clung to the end of my boots and the area seemed so enriched in the leyline energy. Although it inspired a melancholy for Rustberg, I already missed the snow and quiet village. I walked a distance off the trail, knowing full well of the wildlife in these woods being far more dangerous, I’d rather have to fend off a springpaw, than with the local guard. Or worse.

Luckily the woods were calm on this day, the bright oranges, deep crimsons from the leaves and creme color trunks guided me as I lost myself in distant memories of only a year after I was raised. It all seemed like yesterday - I guess when you’ve been unable to actually sleep because... well...you’re dead, it really does make all the days blur into one another. Like the same day I arrived in this forest nearly five and half years ago is unchanged from today, but I know better. Thousands of lives have been lost in that time span, yet it seems that I walk the same path as I did then. I don’t know why now I heard Vindilah’s words, asking if my history was repeating... “Only now it is elves and you have a choice. Or do we really?"

Do we? Have I traded cowardice for control? Watching my history unfold before me. Do I actually have a choice? Or will I simply be another pawn again. Light. Have you forsaken me? I have been nothing but faithful, letting you guide me - blindly at times, but in the end I have survived and my path was clear. You bestow me with great power, yet pain that is nearly unbearable now. I am nothing but dust, yet you hold me together... What am I worth to you?

My down spiral of thoughts was perturbed by the rustle of a nearby bush, I quickly gathered my senses noticing the coloration of the woods were turning a sickly green and blue up in the distance as I ducked into the trunk of nearest tree. I peered where I had heard the noise as a springpaw cub emerged stealthily, luckily seeming to not notice where I had sneaked off to - but my anxiety quickly heightened as I saw another more threatening visage. The dark haired flowed from the male sin’dorei, with form fitting dark navy leathers, nocking an arrow, eyeing the target. I ducked back down, hearing the whistle of the arrow finding it’s target. Do not move. A few seconds went by, hearing the elf speaking in thalassian, muttering to himself. Do. Not. Move.

I heard him unsheathe his knife and skin the kill, the patter of small feet - I did not dare look to see, what I assumed, would be his hunting companion darting around the woods. After a moment I heard the latching of belts as he stowed away the animal pelt and meat he deemed worthy - footfalls followed after, away from where I had ducked away. I peered across the canopy to see a horde insignia on his bicep, bow at his back, trailing off in the distance, hunting companion no where in sight. I hid there in the brush for what seemed like an hour - making sure there was distance between me and the hunter before scanning the area, ensuring that the coast was clear. I stood slowly and continued my way south towards the Ghostlands - Edmundo’s last project.

43. Blind 

The hut was just how I remembered it from the outside, it bared the forsaken crest in brass on the small wooden door. This was the desolate council’s small little foothold - undocumented of course. Light knows this building wouldn’t be standing before me if it was. The architecture didn’t match anything of the surrounding buildings we would typically research, although they long stood abandoned, the elvish architecture was something to admire. Maybe for another day. No, this hut was inconspicuous, a small wood cabin covered in moss to match the very ground so it could easily be dismissed by any without a keen eye - and then there were the wards as a second measure. I pulled out my forsaken emblem, the very same I had torn off my satchel and lifted it high above my head as I approached the sanctuary, I hope it still held it’s charge.

The crest glowed fervently, the untrained eye would see nothing but a small unassuming hut, but to those that knew what to find would see the barriers, one by one, as they fell - suppressing noise, arcane, and finally truesight - the perimeter of shields swallowed me as I pushed towards the door of the hut. I knocked twice only to be greeted by silence. A grasped the door handle and entered the hut to find the small space, ransacked. Research papers drenched in mud and boot marks line all corners of the space, dim candlelight illuminated the back corner writing nook where I spent my second summer writing my third and forth thesis's on Zul’Aman - I closed the door behind me and took a closer look at the space.

Droplets of crusted blood, sprayed across a large stack of paperwork, with the candle  - Whatever it was... It wasn’t recent, maybe two or three weeks at most but it still filled me with unease as I felt a familiar cold chill. “Did you think he would have answers?” She said wryly, I turned to face the aberration of the dust-like human girl leaning against the opposite counter. I shuddered, stepping back. “What are-how did you-” I was at a loss of words. “Don’t you worry child, your ‘protections’ are still active, I’m just above them. Now, while you are here..”  The candle flickered with an unusual glow as she raised her arm sparking a chaotic dark energy as it flowed into my arm - I tried to gain back control but she bent it to her will. I snapped. “No. No, no, no.” My arm grasped a sheet of paper on the desk, lifting it to eye level, “Read. Silas, it’s the only thing you’re good for.” 

The parchment was burned at the edges, written in Edmundo’s hastily written chicken scratch, in a modified version of gutterspeak. 

Silas,

There is no HopE. you must run. Before they takE you. tAke your Sight. Take your light. she Will be waiting. In the place where it is hidden. Light. Light. Don’t come looking for me. I will be finE. 

Hide. Yourself. Just keep running. All will reveaL itself in time.

-e.a

I read aloud but it only angered her. My arm began to flare in pain and she screamed, and I began to wonder if she could feel it too as she lifted her arm to her head, recoiling as she began to wither slowly. Now was my chance. Clutching the letter, I knocked over the candle stick, fire erupted across the research papers and vials of ink, spreading flames along the hut, I bolted out not thinking twice. I ran, gasping for air I knew I didn’t need, I clutched the crest once more to protect me from the barriers. I didn’t dare look back, but what I could hear from behind was the eruption of flames and the screaming call of the banshee. 

(TW: Self-Infliction, Lite-Gore)

44. Into the Fold

I ran into the forest for hours, heading north for some reprieve. I knew I would need to make camp or find an inn that was off the beaten path - something. My arm still ached, it was a sharp pain, I wondered how much myself I was risking, my sanity was one thing, but my body... no I couldn’t continue to think that I was growing to become a weaker version of myself every day that I walked this earth. I needed to remain somewhat hopeful, despite everything around me being cursed or loaded up with blight. I had to calm down.

The lush forests returned to their orange, yellows and maroons, as I slowed down, leaning at first against a creme colored trunk and then falling to my knees, completely exhausted. I sat under the canopy assessing the damage to my arm. I flicked off the glove on my right arm to reveal the bone dust fading in it’s normal light infused glow. It seemed faded along with what appeared to be a black spot, filled with void energies, the perimeter around the mark seemed to eating away at the light, while the light was fighting back attempting to close the portal. I stared back into the absence, wondering what it could mean.

Nothing good. I thought to myself. I grasped my ceremonial knife, I knew what had to be done... I shaved away under the dust layer, slowly inching away at the top of my wrist before cutting my the hand I had written nearly all my works with. As I did the pain seized into a dull ache before bone dust began to shift like sand on the upper portion of my arm, no longer filling to act as ‘skin’ but knowing I needed my appendages. Fingers began to sprout from the dust, although it was bone-like in structure, it would do better than nothing at all. I prayed silently, thanking the Light for my gift. I knew that the ‘flesh’ would return in do time.

I wrapped a piece of clothe that I exchanged my glove for in my satchel upon my newly formed hand, it would have to do for now to begin the healing process. I concealed myself in my cloak and began to walk down the path, hoping to find shelter for the night.

The tavern I settled in costed me forty-gold for the night but they didn’t ask names and I didn’t frequent with any regulars, simply went up to the room and grabbed Edmundo’s letter. I began dissecting it and noticed the odd capitalization and recognized it as a very simple cipher we used to use back for council meetings:

THE BEAST WILL DIE. HYJAL.

Beast? Hyjal? Like Mount Hyjal in Kalimdor - I’ve never set foot on that ancient ground, let alone know even how I would get there. But beast? This was the only scrap of information I could get. All will reveal itself in time as Edmundo stated, but he knew as patient as I was, they would surely find me. 

She would find me.

(OOC: Gods, what a ride it’s been over the last few weeks, been trying to finish this set of entries for awhile now, been just in a slump with work and life so attempting to not burn myself out and taking my time. I’ve had that little voice in the back of my head of just like ‘Are you doing this right?’ ‘You should really follow up with the people you’ve made RP commitments to’ ‘You should level your alts and gear Thea already’ - Then I launch the game, fiddle on Silas for half an hour and feel unmotivated to go to events or seek out RP.

So I’m sorry - I’m making a conscious effort to get into better habits, like this weekend I got Thea from ilvl268 to 310! I got Silas to 386! Woot! Then I’ve been leveling a B-Elf Hunter and just got him out of Deepholm, he is level 89 [Also he made a special appearance in this entry]! I’m excited to go to Monday Night Mixer tomorrow at the Raven! It’s progress if nothing else!

As always, I love feedback, negative or positive because I’m still really new to all this stuff and like Silas I’m learning everyday, if you ever want to reach out to be a part of the story don’t hesitate, trust me you won’t be bothering me, you’ll be helping me! Thanks so much for reading <3)

[kainfamilyfortune]

Thea - Journal Entry #9

I know it has been so very long since I thought about you Dustin, but today -Today it was the little things that led me to know where I stand with you. 

I remember the dust settled upon the cargo that your dad lifted out of our wagon when we sought out refuge from Lordearon, after the fall. The dry tumble weeds of Westfall greeted me for the first time, seeing the nearly endless fields dropping off into the Great Sea and the smell of harvest hit me in a way I had never experienced. You and I were young. Innocent even. Okay, well more so then we are now. Were now. My heart still beats and your’s is still. Six feet under in Stormwind. I visited you everyday that I received graveyard watch when I volunteered my time in between deployments as Faith-keeper to the church, but war - It called to me again and again, so I took my leave from civilian life, hell, even guard duty never suited me anyway, despite how close I felt to the Light and the church, I knew it would protect and guide me so long as I was willing to listen elsewhere.

I handed in my crest and tabard to Jorah, exchanging it for the classic solider garb - the same one that was drenched in your blood, as I carried you from the last battle we shared. Now washed away clean, the royal blue and gold embossed lion shined in the morning light as I put on the chain mail and plate, attaching my belt and holy tome. Dust had collected upon my shoulder pieces and as I blew the light emanated once more streaking into the room. It was angelic, you would’ve said, “Turn the damn light out and come back to bed.” with your coy smile. You would’ve punched me in the arm playfully. You would have kissed me. I tied the strings around my breastplate, securing the pauldrons and finally slipping on my gloves. I stood before my mirror and took a long look at myself and where I was in life, noticing the slope of the A-Frame of the room, and the break of dawn outside. I nodded to myself, smiling. “You are their leader. You’ve got this.”

I forgot to mention. In the last four months, they promoted me thrice, it felt good - but at the same time, no one moves up ranks that quickly unless those above you are dying - Gaps in leadership. I had to say goodbye to my squad. Juliet was teary eyed when I broke the news, but she knew I would still check in and write, after everything we all went through - with the death of Dustin... I know we are on the loosing side of this war, but I have faith in my king, and that is whom I was going to meet today. The street lamps dulled as the oil depleted - it was crisp this morning as the dawn quickly cast shadows in every direction.  I took the long steps up to the keep, it was the first time I’ve been here since my coronation as second lieutenant, but even then I never actually had been inside.

Making my way up the long stair I was greeted by a pair of guards, flanking me on either side, ushering me forward. At the end of the hall two more guards barred entry on a large ironwood door. The texture stood out to me - it reminded me of the trees in Silverpine. One of the soldiers did a curt bow in my direction as I was too distracted by the door, he then turned away from me, knocking upon it twice. Another series of knocks could be heard. Thud, thud, thud. He turned back to me, this time I was a little more attentive to his expression as he spoke aloud, breaking the otherwise silent exchange. “Three minutes, Lieutenant Kain. If you would like-” He waved an arm towards a bench not far from the entry and I gave him a curt nod cutting him off, still slightly nervous and distracted, “My thanks. As you were.” - Wow, still getting used to that.

A few moments passed before the sound of mumbles and hastily sounding footsteps and finally, a knock of the door. Thud. This one far more pronounced the previous ones. The doors opened, light filling in the hall that I sat in, I stood at once, peering into the circular chamber - domed ceiling with stained glass. It was gorgeous. White stone pillars, similar to the church, reached up high, framing the occupied throne, he sat there with a rather stoic but still friendly expression, sadly, looking like he had a lack of sleep. King Anduin Wrynn. Oh Light. This is happening. I locked eyes with him, not noticing his consul on either side of him. I carefully stepped forward until I was ten feet off from him, I unsheathed my hammer - kneeling to the ground. Waiting... knowing that everyone’s eyes were on me. My small frame nearly unable to keep from shaking slightly from the unwanted attention. Finally I heard his voice, and I was soothed. “Rise, Thea. Courteous as always. Please, we will have a word.” I rose meeting with his gaze once more, sheathing the hammer to my side.

His eyes were like crystal pools of grey-blue, like that of the sea. I stared for maybe a little too long, but let’s be honest - faith in your king, knowing that he has seen many of the same battles with those eyes that I have, grants permission to at least gather a sense of where he believes we are as a people. His voice filled the room, but was not as resonating as other leaders, it was calming and reassuring as he introduced me in front of the consul, “Lieutenant Thea Kain, nice ring to it, although we can’t discuss it further - unfortunately pleasantries will have to be postponed. Our consul and myself have a task for you.” His eyes narrowed towards another soldier, someone I haven’t met yet, but he looked burly as he spat in my direction as we all walked towards the war room. “It... It involves a delicate but powerful hand while still maintaining an outward level of composure. I need a leader. The situation we would put you in would be similar to Drustvar, although we won’t be having you deal with witchcraft. Voodoo, maybe, but not witchcraft.”

“Pardon me, my king, but Voodoo? Do you mean I’ll be going on enemy shores?” I asked, attempting to stay confident despite how nervous I felt.

“Not alone, but yes. Jaina tells me that we can finally move forward with our plans, and Spymaster Shaw has assured us that we can ground the Zanadalari fleet and seize the capitol, Dazar'alor. We have planned a diversion.” He points towards the northern portion of the landmass. “Nazmir will be first infiltrated and once we have the majority of their armies heading north, we will come in from the south, securing the capitol. This is where you come in. You will lead an infiltration team of twenty-five. One of four teams.” One of the consul pulls a new map out, this one of a more detailed version of the Zuldazar capitol. “Your team will be the first to go in and attempt occupation in the city, clearing the way for the second and third team to infiltrate the palace. Once you have done that, you will reconvene with team four at the docks and that’s where we will initiate stage two.”

The meeting went on for another hour, speaking with the other appointed leaders of the assault - as they joined into the war room. We were to execute the attack in a week, and we were shipping out to Boralus this afternoon. We had today to prepare, train and say goodbye to our loved ones. I am not the one to be pessimistic, but if this plan fails... It’s a suicide mission. I attempted to make sense of it all. Three main landings separate the dock to the entry point of the palace. Three landings in the one of the most vicious places on Azeroth - with thousands of cutthroat trolls, not to mention horde soldiers fighting along side them - and we were to start an occupation with a little more than a hundred, albeit some of those strongest both in strength and will... The numbers were against us. If the north aren’t able to pull the majority of forces from the city we will surely be vanquished.

Light be with me.

[kainfamilyfortune]

Silas - Journal Entry #38-41

38. Sender of Messages.

When the amber haired, leather clad Sin’dorei handed me the small card with the inscription, ‘Celiá B. - Sender of Messages’ I knew right then that this was my ticket. Our conversation persisted throughout the night as the last call bell rang, sharing similar values of how we see this needless war. Eventually she yawned, an empty plate in front of her from when she scarfed down her meal, I told her I would contact her when the time was right as she was passing through on her way to Stormwind and then back to Silvermoon. Clutching the card, we made our way to our respective rooms in the now quiet inn.

She had disappeared by morning, apparently much more quiet in her exit than the previous tenants. Leaving before dawn. Hmm. I dressed and continued my routine. Trail. Tavern. Bed. Laying awake, staring at the ceiling wondering how in the world I would be securing passage to Eversong. Not that I expected passage with her, but that would had been a nice gesture, although she did not know of the bounty on my head, or at least she did not give that away if she did.

Another thought still persisted through my mind - if any suspicion arose from my act of self defense, Light I hope not, I feel like I should had wiped my hands clean to someone, anyone... Gods. 

Trail.

Tavern.

Bed.

I wrote a letter to the dock-master to notify me of when the next commercial vessel would be making its way out here for Eastern Kingdoms. Hopefully I could leave this place behind me, despite loving the atmosphere, I could tell that the circumstances that lead me here were starting to drive me mad. My actions would surely have consequences. Soon. I lay out on the bed once more, letting my paranoia go - mouthing a silent prayer. I shut my eyes and reopened them to find myself back in a familiar sight.

39. Dark Depths.

The deteriorating tower loomed in the dark and sickly cyan moonlight, refracting through the dead trees of the forest. I was in the Ghostlands once again. I carefully moved towards the pitch black interior with the only light in the room coming off of the brazier, still lit from the last interaction, illuminating the two chairs that sat across from one another. I hesitated, feeling the anxiety pool into my throat but I had to continue forward. I had to talk to you.

She sat in the chair, compacted with dust, just like me, only in a much more human form. She looked young, maybe early twenties, with a combination of plate and mail armor, auburn hair that was pulled back into a pony-tail and amber piercing eyes. She grasped a small war hammer in her lap, twirling the handle like it weighed nothing, as the compacted dust shifted her form, floating out in some places as if she was not complete. She grinned wickedly at me as I sat in the chair in front of her once again, pursing her lips and tucking away at a rogue hair behind her ear. She spoke with a warmth I had not felt in long time, feeling as though they were the soothing tones of my mother, but she was obviously fixated on the way she delivered her question, “So we meet after all this time. Why now?” Her form warped, falling away at her facial features as she wrapped her fists around the hammer, I could hear the sound of her gloves clenching.

“I guess I could ask the same of you. Who are you anyway?” I retorted, now seeing the resemblances between the girl in front of me and the girl I chased on the trail. “Why did you almost lead me off a cliff?”. Her scoff was audible as the corners of her mouth dragged into a more solemn expression, “I was only trying to bring you back here. You’ve kept me waiting over a week, I think I deserve the answers first. You’ve got all the time in the world for being dead anyway-” She spit out that last line, obviously my disposition pained her in some way. She lowered her voice, looking down as if talking to herself, but I hear her just the same, “She must have it out for this one, no matter.”

I eyed the human girl with a curiosity. It seems she knows everything already about to unfold, but still dumbfounded. Or simply playing dumb; so I played along, “I don’t know you, although you seem familiar all the same. Why should I tell you anything?”

Her voice changed to a sultry tone, calming the fragments of dust floating around the flame of brazier before us, “Because, you don’t know it yet, but you are going to need this girl one day. And her body will rot here if you do not give me the answers that I need - Why are conspiring against me, Silas? Why have you come back after trading your life away all those years ago? Why have you forsaken our deal?” The words hit like bile, her form was not her own, she was possessed, that was for certain. Her eyes lingered upon my form, ever vigilant, studying everything about me. Piercing through what was left of my soul.

“I was raised by the Banshee Queen’s Val'kyr. Past that I could not tell you. I did not mean to spite you by returning to walk this plane.” I gestured my arm around the flame, sitting upright in the chair. “I’m still trying to figure out why I’ve come back in the first place. I have no purpose-” My words were cut off by her anger. The dust chaotically danced around our forms, more and more of her began to wither away. “You can prance around my words all you want, Silas. You broke our deal. No one goes back on a deal and lives, even in undeath. I am coming for your light, which should had been silenced a millennia ago, and then...” Her eyes dart from looking to me, to admiring the now fading forearm of the girl she was possessing. “...Your legacy. Your light shall be exiled from this world. In all forms.”

This girl... the soothing mother’s call. Gods, the pieces of the puzzle are coming together. The sense of protection. Every priest is trained to protect those devoted to the Light, this girl, flesh and blood was my kin no less - and devoted by the details I was now noticing, worn tome on her belt, an Argent Crusade tabard, even a holy symbol. I needed to protect her at all costs. My voice no longer shook with anxiety, instead I let the light guide my heart, hopefully to feel her aura and sense her true location. If I find her. Then I find the presence that has haunted this bargain for far too long. “I can’t let you do that. I was ignorant in my youth to trust you, and if that means now that I have to go back on our deal, so be it. Light shall prevail. Light will always guide the way.”

I felt a chill down my spine, as the flame turned from a dull orange-red, to pure indigo and then violet. Her anger swelled as the holy glow of the girl was consumed into void. I had to remind myself her possessed form was merely a projection as her fading body writhed away screaming in pain. I never got a name or location of the girl, only simply that my blood coursed through her veins. That was all I needed, as darkness consumed me whole, and I fell into the pit of the void.

40. Reminders.

To Mr. K,

I hope that your stay in Rustberg Village has been well. I received your letter last night and after checking the reports there will be two ships coming into port within the next week, both are multi-purpose vessels, of which, one will be traveling south to Booty Bay, Stranglethorn Vale, and the other will be going to Sunsail Anchorage, Eversong Forest.

I hope for your speedy reply so that I can let either vessel know of potential passengers and arrange payment for fare in the coming week on your behalf.

                                                            Regards,

                                                             Dock-master Urum

I felt drained in the following days. Drinking. Writing. Staying on my routine, but I couldn’t help but think of the dream; maybe I wasn’t meant to come back, or maybe someone else entirely influenced my return. I prayed to the Light to guide me to answers. 

The docks were quiet as the boats later in the week finally made it into the small port, the crews mingling around, unloading crates of fresh produce and some trade goods. A batch of fine mooncloth caught my eye, but I had to pass on even thinking about how much that is worth, but I couldn’t help but imagine tailoring some new armaments out of it, one day. I made my way towards the dock master’s hut peering at the dwarf seated at a small desk with a large stack of paperwork, as he was speaking with a goblin. I waited in line, picking up bits and pieces of conversation about some political unrest in Booty-Bay, but nothing too interesting, as the two persisted on for ten, then eleven, twelve minutes before the dwarf noticed me and his eyes perked up asking the goblin if they could continue the conversation a little later of a pint. The goblin nodded and leered at me as he exited the hut, I shuffled in his place and looked to the dwarf, a finely embossed desk plate read, ‘Urum, Dock-master’, and he forced a smile, not sure how to feel about my presence.

I began, “I am Mr. K, Dock-master, I apologize for the length between the letter and now but I have the coin ready to depart today. I would seek passage to Sunsail if that vessel has arrived?” He looked at me with an appraising gaze and his tone seemed apprehensive but he allowed the interaction, “Aye, lad, sure. The Valtameri arrived an’ hour ago and they are still unloadin’ her, let’s see here... according to their rates they’ve got single cabins available for ‘bout 180 gold a’night, the venture there is two days, so she’d be 360 for the trip. I can see about working them-” I cut him off.

“They aren’t affiliated like your goblin friend, no offense of course.” I asked Urum bluntly, “No, they aren’t affiliated, last I heard Captain Kyna, actually spit n’ the direction of a few of the High Magisters, she ain’t taking a fondness of this war, tha’s for sure.” His reply seemed sincere, but also curious, “Why’d you ask? You on the run?”

It took a bit of negotiating, ended up paying a “Late fee” to shut him up and to ask anymore questions. Captain Kyna showed me my quarters and asked that I be there at dawn tomorrow to cast off. No issue.

The last night in the tavern was a somber one. I spoke with a few of the patrons, one of them, a former mariner named Taoln, told me of his life and his daughter who just started teaching at Stormwind University; to which I gave him my copy of Elements of Medicine as a gift to her. Hopefully his daughter finds it as a good resource as I did when I helped write it with Dorene. I then said my goodbyes to the staff of the Heart of the Raven, hopefully I could come back here with a clean conscious and a clean record next time. Hopefully soon.

41. Valtameri.

I decided it for the best not to make friends with this crew. Simply stating my name as Mr. K if they asked. I could understand now why some of us who risen as Forsaken claimed different names in death than in life. Not that they were ashamed of their past, well the majority of us weren’t, but that they had nothing to gain from taking that life forward into their new lives. Why muddy things when you are starting up new? For me, I never understood that until now, I actually went against this line of thinking, since one of the goals of the desolate council was to eventually be accepted for our past and our future. To live unimpeded from judgement. We were no longer scourge, mindless, or unfeeling. Yes, we were dull, and maybe didn’t have organs, sewing ourselves up to continue on, or my case, nothing but dust held together by conflicting energies in endless discomfort - but we were people with thoughts and emotions and legacies. We are people. Even if we choose to leave that past all behind. I wasn’t planning to do this for long, only in the short term, but I finally understand why some would be inclined.

The two day journey was uneventful to say the least, honestly the best time for reflection I’ve had in weeks since the attack in Stormsong. I looked back onto the journal entries with the tablet, adjusting my research on the effects of having nearly been drained of all my Light. I think that’s what she was hoping for, but what she was going to receive was far more than what she bargained for. My end of deal had... yes gone unfulfilled, but that wasn’t my fault, if I was meant to stay dead - I can’t believe I’m writing this - She would have made sure of it. I feel like influence of void from the tablet may have purged a portion of the shadow from when I was initially brought back, hence why, when I was saved by Roscoe, Sol, and Lea - The void was consuming nearly every fiber of my being. When the tablet lost it’s grip on me and the energy escaped, the light immediately filtered back in, and even more so than I’ve ever had both in life or death up to this point.

I still feel like I’m gathering strength every day, despite the interactions that I’ve had with the entity I had struck a deal with all those years ago, coming back to haunt me once more, but my theory is that it shows that she knows that I’m no longer weak. I’m no longer a pawn for her to gain anything out of. I have ascended into her threat.

Light filtered into the wooded canopy. It has been nearly four years since I’d seen such beauty. Forever fall of leaves, brightly orange and red, the creme colored trunks of trees and aura of the peace. In the distance I could just barely make out the stark contrast of the scar and edge of where I knew I had to go. She was waiting there, I thought to myself as I nodded to the captain, disembarking the vessel.

(So, I know it’s been a hot minute; I was just waiting for RP partners to line up in order to ensure people were game to play out the next few sections. I’ve had this written as a draft for two weeks and it was killing me not to post anything for that length of time until everything played out. Especially when I was snowed in for a week at home with nothing better to do than to write and read and play; so I appreciate the love I received on the last section!

As always check out @heartoftheravenwra for those Monday Night Mixers, they just released the Spring menu, and it looks delicious!

Other mentions go to @hinahinagray; since Taoln was such a good sport when Silas may have gone manic in thinking he was being spied on. Fun times. Hope the tome serves the daughter well.

Lastly, if you wish to get involved as someone to help or hinder Silas on his journey, feel free to reach out to me - I can give you my discord via a DM, totally up to talk about anything and everything <3)