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"Ethereals" - 9 It had been a long flight, and the wind had brought a crispness and a chill to Berufengs face. The talons of a great viridian drake had latched onto his spaulders and lifted him from the ground, soaring over the alien terrains of the Outland.
A violet wasteland was swirling beneath him, and in the distance he could see enormous mana-domes he recognized as the ecodomes of the Netherstorm. He and Mynora had stopped there only briefly on their recent vacation to Outland, and met many men of a race called ethereals who were well-versed in the strange workings of the magical world. Within these ecodomes, they maintained a jungle climate and environment, and studied the various indigenous species which would, outside the plasma walls of the domes, be ex
"Home and Back Again" - 8 It had been more or less an uneventful trip. They two had left Mardanel and Kaldaka in charge of the guilds affairs, and for the first time since its creation, taken a much-needed vacation.
They had certainly found more turmoil and war than they had expected to see on their pre-honeymoon, but later they rationalized that often what one expects and what the Goddess has in store for them are two entirely different things. Elune had guided them to the furthest reaches of Outland, to witness strife of which they would have otherwise been ignorant. Many lives had been touched by their presence in Terokkar and Nagrand and the marshlands and mountains of the broken realm, and in fact the two elves returned to Darnassus aglow with an enlightened view of the universe, prepared to make it a better place.
"Djan Sorenson" - 7 As he clasped a gloved hand onto Caleis shoulder, a silent prayer whispered in his mind, that this would not be the last time he would lay eyes upon the druid. You are a good man, he said simply, and while it did not ring in his voice, Berufeng wrestled back tears that wished to fall. A swoosh of his cape behind him, and the many voices within that room rose again to their cacophony. He let his negative thoughts drift and swirl a few feet behind him, in the wake of his blood red cape; with a passion in his footfalls he made quickly to the mage district of Stormwind, his only focus on the faces of those children who sat innocently in their dormitories back home atop Darnassus.
The Teldorei would ride to war in less than two hours, and he would not allow their enemy to stab them where it would hurt worst, while all their energies were fo
"Lustiluv Kravenmoore" - 6 The weather on this side of Dun Algaz was much warmer than in the wintry peaks of Dun Morogh, and thus the ram-back companions had shed their outermost layers of clothing, hanging them instead from the curled horns of their rented mounts. Hours prior, the wizened elf had been thanking Elune for the generosity and quick fingers of the dwarven seamstress in Ironforge, who had crafted him a suitable wendigo coat in a matter of minutes. Now, however, even though the new coat was accompanied by a pair of bulky spaulders, a leather breastplate, and the tabard of the Shan Teldorei dangling from the rams great horns, Berufengs brow was awash with sweat.
Thelsammar was a rather quiet hamlet off the coast of the great Loch Modan, whose dwarven inhabitants seemed to prefer less bustle than the drunken mining colonies Berufeng was used to. Only a half a
"Vandeen" - 5 The gnomish contraption, built in the mechanized likeness of a tree frog, made a rather obnoxious whirring sound as it hopped along the icy path out of Ironforge. As he followed the device to the south at hardly a brisk pace, Berufeng wished he had brought bulkier clothes his pauldrons protected him a little from the chill winds, but the frigid air pierced through the blue-and-silver tabard and thin leather breastplate, biting at his chest. Hopping at perfect intervals, the little robotic frog led him persistently south, toward the quaint dwarf-inhabited village of Kharanos.
A day had passed since he kissed his sleeping priestess cheek and left the loft above the guildhall, and already his knees ached with a desire to be back home with his family, his teldorei. He stared absentmindedly at the whirring contraption two paces in front of his bo
"Abducted" - 4 He heard it a second too late. A shuffling noise, not more than the scrape of a leather moccasin against the rough wood flooring, from within the shadows of the corner of the members quarters. Instinct told him to whirl around and grab for his sword which leaned against the bedbut his instinct too was growing old and sluggish. Just as he was no longer able to put a second arrow in flight before the first struck its target, now he found himself ambushed before his hand could even release the quill and grasp for the rapier a few feet away.
A dagger from the shadows, clenched in an angry fist, came down upon his left hand. With a sound like a butchers knife cleaving a slab of fresh meat, the swift blade struck his smallest finger, severing it completely from its hand, bone and flesh and all.
"Slaughter" - 3 for two reasons, she was saying, before the majority of the Shan Teldorei here in Astranaar. His eyes panned over the crowd as he listened to her speak, his back firm and head high in a show of respect for his honorable leader, the High Priestess Mynora. Though it was true he loved her dearly, and even now his mind tempted him with thoughts and visions of romance, he quelled them all and stood proud and ready to serve at her side and the sides of his fellow Teldorei.
In her words, he had sensed a quavering uncertainty; she did not present this task with the assertive and convincing tone she was known to adopt Perhaps it was because he had grown to know her so much more than some of the other teldorei had gotten a chance to, and it may well have been that he was the only one who noticed. Glancing sidelong at Mardanel,
"Dream" - 2 Berufeng withdrew from the Temple of the Moon shortly after dusk, when the crickets and toads had already begun their nocturne, to make his way to the Shan Teldorei guild commons in search of rest. Upon Mynoras suggestion, he had spent the entire day in prayer to Elune, asking for her guidance and forgiveness; the final request in his litany had been for the health of his dear friend, the great thistle bear he called Remus.
His legs had grown weary from sitting, kneeling, and pacing about the temple, and the healing wound he concealed beneath his hardened leather breastplate continued to sting like an icy whip to the chest. Remus trotted down the steps from the enclaves hunter platform as his master passed by, greeting him with a nudge to the ribs from his graying muzzle; his gesture was returned with a
"A Rare Find" - 1 Nearly everything in his life had been transforming before his eyes these past few months. In fact, he was hardly the man that he had thought himself to be, anymore. He was learning patience, sacrifice, tolerance, and humility; his was a new soul, which found itself encased in the corporeal body of an aging man whose aches and pains often got the best of him. Despite his enthusiasm and unfaltering optimism toward his quest, he frequently struggled to continue moving forth, especially now.
On the brink of the world he stood, overlooking a vast alien landscape below, with his back to the tall and slender mouth of a dark cave. He cast a final look down at the wicked red terrain from whence he had climbed, though his expression lacked the sense of triumph one would expect to see on the face of a man who had just scaled a steep mountain. No,
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