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Home Once More

The Dragon Isles, The Ohn’ahran Plains

It had been a long trek for the refugees, but they had followed Tyrandae’s guidance and left Stormwind for the Dragon Isles, being led by the centaur clans of the Plains to the westernmost edge of the island… and there stood a massive tree, a new world tree. Amirdrassil.

Fyrakk was no more, struck down by the combined might of the Alliance and Horde. In his defeat Amirdrassil had bloomed into brilliant life, emerging from the Dream and driving it’s roots deep into the waters near the home of dragonkind.

Among the elves was a man known as Redriel Stagswift. He had not been at Darkshore when the War of Thorns had destroyed his home which had saved his life but his daughter, his only family, had been among those in Darnassus.

He stood there, gazing at the tree that his people would now call home. Suddenly he froze, hearing a voice whispering in his ear. A small childlike voice, one he hadn’t heard in over six years now.

His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open as a wisp flew towards him from the tree and circled around his body.

He tried to speak a few times, and on the third attempt he croaked out a name, “… Elyssa?”

A faint giggle was heard as the wisp bobbed infront of him.

He had not cried when he saw the destroyed husk of Teldrassil, or when he had met with the other refugees after fleeing Kalimdor for the safety of Stormwind City. The sheer shock and horror of all they had lost had been too great to face, but now his eyes filled with tears as his shoulders trembled.

Around him, other kal’dorei were experiencing the same. Amirdrassil, the world tree grown from the seed formed of the Tear of Elune in Ardenweald, housing the souls of all those night elves saved from the hellish realm known only as the Maw.

Now those souls were reunited with those who had survived Teldrassil's destruction. The world tree acting as a bridge between the Dream, Azeroth, and the Shadowlands. A window of life and death.

Redriel reached out and cupped his hands around the wisp's etherial form, tears running down his cheeks as he smiled at her. He told her all the things he had wished he'd said, all that he had wanted to say to his daughter, heedless of anyone who might overhear them.

After years of hurting, of regret, of what ifs and what could have beens and all those thoughts of how if he’d just done this instead… none of it mattered now. Finally, the hole in Redriel’s heart began to heal.

Standing back from the other elves was the druidess Shalandrae Deeproots, leaning against a tree with her arms folded over her torso and a satisfied smile on her face.

The druid looked up as she heard hoofbeats, seeing the familiar form of her partner Aziguni walking towards her. “So, what now Shalandrae? Will you stay with them?” she asked.

Shalandrae looked back at the crowd, cocking her head thoughtfully, then she reached behind her and took her staff from the holder on her back, examining it.

Journey’s End, carved from a tree grown by her own hands on the coast of Darkshore. Shaped and detailed by Nelen, her worgen friend. The wrappings shaped by Samantha, the void elf who had changed so much in the few years she’d known her. The gemstone eyes of the stag’s head cut and polished by Jaie, her pandaren friend who saved her the day Teldrassil burned in spite of all she’d done to stop her. The antlers forged by her closest friend of all, the dwarf Dareley Steelhammer, who she had grown to know as close as a brother since they had met in Northrend that fateful day.

The only ones who had not contributed were Zhan-min, who could not craft any of the components for it (but who had happily provided the drinks that Winter’s Veil,) and Aziguni, who she hadn’t met yet.

She looked at it, then back at the tree, then smiled and shook her head. “No. I will visit, of course… but…” she put her staff away, then stood up and stretched, “I already have a home, and its time I got back to it.” she nodded, turning to Aziguni. “Speaking of, since you probably don’t have quarters with the Explorer’s League since you quit… I’m sure we can squeeze in one more.” she grinned to the Draenei.

Aziguni smiled back, nodding gratefully. “I would like that very much Shalandrae.” she replied.

Some days later…

Nelen could have simply opened a portal back to Stormwind, but after all that had happened they felt a nice voyage at sea would be a good vacation. Their expedition to the Dragon Isles had put them in the path of a cult of fanatical shaman, their Primal Dragon masters, the legacy of Neltharion’s descent into becoming the monstrous Deathwing, and face to face with their old foes in the Druids of the Flame. In addition to all that they had been hounded continuously by Dissonantia and her demonic minions until they finally defeated her for good. They needed a break.

Eventually however, their ship made it to harbor in Stormwind and the group disembarked with their new member, heading through the city towards their home in Old Town.

“Ya’ll love it gal!” grinned Zhan-min. “It’ll be a bit snug with seven…” he paused, glancing to Muaaqi and Eochundo, Aziguni’s pantera and talbuk, “… er… nine I suppose…” he mumbled, then shrugged, “But its home.” he nodded.

Aziguni chuckled, “Oh I would not worry about them Zhan-min. My friends will not need to stay indoors, they can easily look after themselves in Elwynn Forest.” she nodded and, sure enough, as they passed the trade district she gave both animals one last loving touch on the heads, then clicked her tongue twice and nodded to the gates. The talbuk and panthera turned and raced off towards the woods, seeking out a place to stay until Aziguni needed them again.

Soon they had arrived at the house. It stood just as they’d left it, clearly no signs of having been broken into… though with the spells Nelen had cast before they left anyone who tried would find themselves suddenly much shorter… and woolier. Nelen dispelled the wards, then stood aside so Dareley could unlock the door.

“Right, here we are!” nodded the dwarf, “Home sweet ho-GUH!” he coughed as the door swung open and a cloud of dust billowed outwards.

The others stepped back as the small dust storm dispersed, letting out their own various comments, then the group peered inside. Finally Jaie spoke up, “Oh… right… guess we were gone for a long time huh?” she chuckled softly.

The interior of the house was just as they’d left it… save for the fact that nobody had been in there since they’d left for the Dragon Isles several months prior. Everything was covered in a coating of dust, and the ceilings were a nest of cobwebs. The candles in the wall scones had all burned down to nothing months ago, and the smell…

Nelen frowned, sniffing, “Eugh… what the fel is that?” he asked.

Shalandrae sniffed, “… er… Jaie, we had some leftover beef in the cold cellar when we left right?” she asked.

Jaie winced, “Oh… oh crap, yeah I salted it but with how long we were gone… oh man everything down there must’ve… aaaaaaaaugh!” she cringed, gripping her cheeks at the idea of what horrors awaited her in the cold cellar, “… we’ll have to haul it all out and throw it away.”

There was a moment of silence as the members of Avalon glanced at each other.

“… onetwothree not it!” exclaimed Samantha.

“Not it!” nodded Nelen, the smell overwhelming even in his human form.

“Not it!” snapped Shalandrae, her own sense of smell strong no matter what form he was in.

“Not it!” added Aziguni, who was quick on the uptake.

“Not it!” spat Dareley, the dwarf eyeing the mass of cobwebs above them. That smell likely called all sorts of vermin, which would explain those. Spiders could be a real problem, especially since some of the ones in Stormwind could easily get big enough to eat rats (though not as massive as the monsters in Duskwood and Westfall.)

“Not… uh…” mumbled Zhan-min, realizing he’d been too distracted by the smell of fermenting everything for a moment. “… aw crap.” he frowned, his shoulders sagging. “Right… well, better get it over with.” he sighed, adjusting his belt before he and Jaie made their way inside. The two tied pieces of cloth over their faces to help protect them from the smell, then descended.

A moment later Jaie’s voice came up the stairs, a string of rather colorful cursing in Pandaren before she shouted in Common, “… ITS MOVING!”

Nelen sighed and walked in, snapping his fingers at a broom which immediately shook the cobwebs off and began getting to work on the floors, then he pointed at a feather duster that shook itself clean as well, then began moving as if being held by an invisible person. “I’d better go check my tomes… last thing I want is to find out we got silverfish…” he frowned.

Sam made a face at that, “Oh shit. My wardrobe! If I see a single moth…” she snarled, rushing past the mage and up the stairs.

Dareley harrumphed and walked inside to examine his own quarters as well as Shalandrae and Aziguni shrugged at each other, then the night elf called in. “I’m going to go back to the Trade District and get some food for dinner everyone.”

A chorus of acknowledgement came from the others, as Jaie’s voice added from below, “We need EVERYTHING. If it wasn’t pickled it isn’t edible!”

The druidess snorted a bit, then closed the door and gave Aziguni an apologetic smile, “I suppose the tour will have to wait.” she said apologetically.

The draenei sighed, “Yes, well… it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen this happen. You should see the state of Brann’s quarters after we would get back from an Expedition. He needed to call for a priest from the Mystic Ward when he got back from Northrend just to deal with his laundry.” she grinned.

The druid laughed at that thought, then walked along beside her as a thought occurred to her.

It had been a long time since she’d truly laughed like that. Just allowed herself to feel that sort of relaxed happiness with another.

But now Amirdrassil stood tall over the coast of the Dragon Isles, a place for the kal’dorei to start anew. The worst of fires had engulfed Teldrassil, leaving nothing but a ruined husk… but now, at long last, the forest was regrowing once more.

So much had changed since the War of Thorns… but Azeroth was a world of changes. What would the next day bring? Only time would tell there.

Orgrimmar, a few weeks later.

It took longer for the Horde to arrive home, but then they had to sail across most of the known world to reach Durotar. Shortly after they arrived two people walked towards the barracks in the Valley of Honor.

Though there were three of them, but the third was just where he always was, snoozing away in the litter on his friend’s back.

As they drew close an orc in horde military colors looked up as he saw them heading his way. “Hm?” he grunted.

“Ahoy there.” grinned the taller of the two. Edwood Vargas nodded to the orcish man. “Good ta see ye again Krim.”

The orc smirked, “Aye, you too Edwood. Back from the Dragon Isles?” he asked. He and Edwood were drinking friends, but then Ed was a Kul’Tirian by birth (Forsaken by death) and Krim was a ranking member of the Horde’s navy, so they had quite a bit to talk about whenever they were both at the Broken Tusk.

“That we are, ‘n I got someone I’d like ta introduce ye to.” he grinned, gesturing to his companion.

The vulpera stepped forward, looking up at the orc. He felt a bit uncomfortable, remembering Zarg Bloodtusks, whose bones lay in a cave in the Azure Span after Jeemjazo had seen to his former abuser… but then he’d have to get used to the idea. After all, it was the Horde’s navy, of course there’d be orcs.

He nodded, then said, “Name’s Jeemjazo Redmane. I wanna enlist.”

The orc raised his eyebrow, “Hmm… got any experience on a ship vulpera?” he asked. A reasonable question. Most of the vulpera were desert dwellers after all, and knowledge of sailing was as useless in Vol’dun as a goblin sno-cone machine in Northrend.

Jeemjazo grinned, “Ten years o’ sailin’ around th’ seas with a band of arsehole pirates, but I’m quittin’ that ‘n goin’ straight.” he nodded.

The orc glanced at Edwood, who nodded as well in confirmation.

“Hrm… well, could always use a spare pair of hands, ‘n vulpera ones are small enough for the fiddly jobs…” he grunted, then took out a journal and flipped through it, “Right. Got a Forsaken vessel scheduled to make berth in Durotar next week, the Spirit of Silverpine. Captain is one Autumn Brokenbirth. Report there ‘n tell her Krim Deadblade sent you.” he nodded.

Jeemjazo swallowed a bit, then and snapped to attention, saluting the orc, “A-aye!” he replied.

The orc snorted but grinned at him. “If Ed says you’re good, I’ll take his word for it… but small or not we’ll expect you to pull your weight.”

Jeemjazo bristled at that, “Oi! I survived a decade of bein’ a cabin boy to a bastard of a Bloodsail captain! I can pull my weight ‘n th’ weight o’ th’ two arseholes next ta me!” he yipped, his tail thrashing behind him.

The orc raised his eyebrow at that, glancing again at Edwood. “Aye matey, I’ve seen th’ scars. Said he was th’ personal bitch o’ a pirate known as Captain Saltfang.” the Forsaken nodded.

This got the orc’s attention, “Really? Frederick Saltfang? That mangy mutt sunk two of our ships!” he glanced at Jeemjazo… but if he was a cabin boy then he was hardly at fault. They wouldn’t have him anywhere near the cannons during a raid. “… ‘n how did you get away from him?” he asked. He also knew that the only way a cabin boy normally got away from a Bloodsail was jumping overboard and taking their chances with the sharks, naga, or whatever else found them.

“Crashed into Dustwallow Marsh durin’ a yippin’ nasty storm. Killed most o’ th crew, ‘n I finished off Saltfang myself.” he nodded, then shrugged, “Eh, to be fair the storm did most of th’ work… crash left ‘im crippled, but I finished off th’ worgen or me name ain’t Jeemjazo.” he grinned.

Krim chuckled, “Good news for us, I thought it’d been a while since we had to tangle with that one. I believe you then vulpera, lets see how good you do on a proper ship.” he nodded.

Jeemjazo grinned back, then nodded and headed back towards the vulpera encampment with Edwood, “Drinks later?” said the Forsaken to the orc as they left.

The orc nodded eagerly, “Off duty in two hours!” he called back with a grin.

Sekhi’s family had returned from the Dragon Isles with them, their cart already having taken it’s usual spot in the ring of wagons that those vulpera who’d joined the Horde called home. Sekhi looked up from helping Atu, her father, with dinner and grinned, hearing Jeemjazo’s song. “So ya a sailor now?” she asked.

“Aye! Settin’ out with a Forsaken ship next week.” he grinned.

Neidhari smiled at him from her seat near the campfire, “At least this time I know where you’re going…” she chuckled.

Jeemjazo sighed and sat down next to his mother. “Mmmn, well… I’ll make port regular ‘n I’ll write when I can. Okay?” he nodded to her. He had felt sad to learn of his father’s death at the hands of the Faithless… but after years of being Saltfang’s slave he had long since resigned himself to never seeing any of them again, so the sting of loss hurt less. At least one of his parents survived, he reasoned.

Neidhari just chuckled and pulled her son into a hug. “I know you will.” she replied.

Sekhi smiled, watching them together, then looked up as the sun dipped under the horizon and the stars began to come out over Orgrimmar.

What a journey it had been… and it had all started when they had met up in Dalaran, and she’d heard Azeroth’s voice calling out in joy that her draconic children could return home.

In the Valley of Spirits Nitika sat before the waterfall, meditating on all that had happened. To an outside observer she was simply gazing into the cascade as if lost in thought, but in truth Dawnhoof and Darkhoof were having a conversation inside her mind. Darkhoof could feel as though something had changed, though she wasn't certain as to what... only that the whispers they had heard in Abberus hadn't seemed to have gone away even though they were home now.

At the Broken Tusk Edwood met up with Galdia, Mola'raum, and Laurelgosa (in her guise as Laura Brightflame.) The dracthyr was finding she enjoyed her visage more and more lately. Her true form was still important to her, but the visage was a form she chose for herself. It was an expression of who she was beyond her origins, and besides... some things were easier without wings knocking into shelves.

Eventually Krim joined them and the group shared tales of what they'd encountered in the Dragon Isles with the orcish sailor. Laurelgosa vouched for him as well, telling the orc how she had witnessed him dispatch several pirates by himself which definitely improved Krim's estimates of the vulpera. He made a point of passing that along to Jeemjazo's future captain. The seas of Azeroth were not always the safest of places, and a sailor who knew how to fight was a welcome addition to any crew.

North of the city, in Bilgewater Harbor, Grimo was in the offices of Savage United setting up a new display case on the wall. Inside it was Titanstrike, the rifle held in place by a pair of sturdy metal hooks. He closed and latched the cover on the case, the front of it reading 'In Case of Apocalypse Scenario, Break Glass.' Nearby hung a sturdy rubber hammer.

He nodded in a satisfied way, then sat down and got to work filling out the work orders to have the shop repaired. He hadn't gotten a chance to do more than put up plywood over the windows after Gremori and Az'arad attacked.

Stormwind City

The ruined food stores were replaced, the spoiled goods carted north to the farms in Stormwind for compost which was all they were good for now.

Inside Jaie was cooking dinner, the pandaren woman in her happy place now. She was a strong fighter of course, but cooking was a passion of her's, and there were few things that satisfied her more than knowing she filled someone's belly.

Zhan-min was slotting some bottles into a recently installed wine rack, having brewed up some new recipes with the goods they had left over from their time on the Dragon Isles. The ales seemed to glow with an inner light, the shaman's own touch on the drinks, as they sat on the racks waiting for their turn at the dinner table.

Above Shalandrae and Aziguni were settling into their new room, having traded with Dareley for his larger one (the dwarf had wound up with that one out of pure chance when they first got the house.) Shalandrae was stretched out on the plush sea of green carpets in the room in the form of a great cat, but not one made of wood and brambles anymore. Perhaps it was her time in the Emerald Dream, or perhaps it was something else, but she had taken the shape of a dreamsaber, a mix of the lush greenery and ancient wildlife of the Dream.

Next to her Aziguni was reviewing her notes from the isles. She had received a letter from Brann himself apologizing for what had happened on the isles and offering her a place back in the League... but Aziguni had declined for now. She had told him she was open to taking commissions, but she had already accepted a place somewhere else. Idly the draenei reached over and scratched Shalandrae behind her ear, the druidess purring loudly at the touch. Some reactions are just built into these bodies.

Samantha was in her room with a sewing kit, mending what outfits she could. Indeed, the moths had come during their absence, and while she was able to save some outfits others had to go for dusters. The void elf was NOT happy about this, just glad that her talents at leatherworking allowed her some skill at mending finer cloth but as for the moths there was no sign. If one were to venture into the Void the might notice a small swarm of very confused insects, though likely most had died there by now.

Dareley was in his new room, resting. He was still putting up a positive front, but it was clear that Dissonantia's final attack on him had hurt him worse than he was letting on. Though precisely how bad the dwarf wouldn't say.

Finally, Nelen wasn't home. Rather he had a book to return to the Stormwind City Orphanage. He was there now, seated in a large easy chair with the orphans around them telling them tales of what they had seen on the islands. He had promised to do so in exchange for borrowing the book, and he had to admit he was rather enjoying himself. It made him think of his own apprentice Leza, back in Orgrimmar by now, though they had regular lessons in Dalaran. He may be a member of the Alliance and her the Horde but that was mattering less these days.

With luck, that would remain so. Nelen certainly hoped it would. He was tired of the endless war between them, and there was so much more they could accomplish working together. The Alliance and Horde had stood side by side against Fyrakk and the other Incarnates and had bought another day for Azeroth.

He trusted his allies in Savage United (even Grimo would eventually do the right thing if it truly mattered, or if Nitika got ahold of his ears) and after Dissonantia's defeat he felt like they could do anything.

Somewhere else...

"Well, that all went to shit." frowned Gremori. She, Az'arad, and Cenoon were all hiding out in a remote corner of the Twisting Nether, debating what to do now.

"Mmm... too right. Mistress Dissonantia is no more." sighed Cenoon, checking his fingernails. "I mean, after what we saw its hardly surprising. Void corruption on that scale?" he shuddered, "Either she's dead, or 'Dissonantia' no longer exists as an individual being."

Az'arad just growled, fingering the blade of his axe. He had liked Dissonantia, she had been able to give him the carnage and opponents he desired. In the end, all the Wrathguard truly cared for was killing and strong enemies to fight.

Finally, Cenoon looked at the two of them. "So, what now? Unlimited Sin has lost half of it's numbers. No Dissonantia means that Quzgup and Xel'kek won't be joining us anytime soon." he pointed out. The imp and beholder would eventually revive in the Nether, but that could take years if not centuries.

Gremori stood up, then shrugged, "Eh, I dunno. Just stick together for now? Maybe find some backwater part of Azeroth to terrorize?" she suggested.

The two demons glanced at each other, then shrugged. "Eh, why not? I mean we do work well enough together. Besides, I have nothing better to do but return to my homeworld and its dreadfully dull there..." he chuckled, "What say you Az'arad?" he asked.

The wrathguard stood, then sheathed his axe, "If there is blood to be shed, I will come." he grinned.

Gremori jumped a bit, "Wait, you can talk?!" she asked.

Cenoon nodded, "Oh of course, he just can't speak anything but demonic." the incubus explained.

Gremori nodded, "Huh... alright then. Well, lets go see what mischief we can get up to." she grinned, slipping her hands into her fel-infused fist weapons and punching a portal to Azeroth open as the two demons followed her. It would be less fun without the Witch of Blackwald Forest leading them, but they would make do.

Wintersky Estate, Silvermoon City

Alalestria paced in her study, her brow furrowed. She had learned the spells needed, surprisingly easy ones to learn infact though decidedly distasteful in their execution.

Below her, in the cellar, waited the main component. It had taken some effort to locate his final resting place on the Dragon Isles, and if she waited too long getting his soul back from the Shadowlands would be all the harder... but she needed him. As much as it galled her Sinranir Downstrider had proved far too useful an asset in the past to simply leave to rot in a shallow grave.

Still, at least she had no illusions about her sibling's prowess now. Sinranir was a trained and skilled assasssin, and those were clearly two dagger marks that had torn his side apart, leaving him to bleed out.

... and yet...

She sighed, "Anything to protect Quel'thalas... but... this is..." she glanced at the tome laid out on the table in her study. The shining rosewood inlaid with the golden falcon of the Sin'dorei people, but the book on top of it harshly contrasted that. A large book bound in blackened leather that seemed to almost drink the light in around it, stitched together from what appeared to be the hides of several different creatures.

Alalestria knew what they were, the forward of the book was clear on that. It even had their names. She'd always wondered what had happened to that guard company. Well, apparently Dar'khan Drakthir had happened to them, rather violently.

She took a breath, "This is a harsh decision, but it is the right one. Sinranir is too useful to lose, and the defense of Quel'thalas needs an agent who can dispatch a void elf with plausible deniability... but..." she trailed off.

She remembered the reports of her father's demise at the hands of the fallen prince, Arthas Menethil, in the days before he became the Lich King. She remembered the whispers of what fate had befallen her mother as well. She never saw a body, but the maids had, and one of them never really recovered from it. Apparently there wasn't much of a body left after what the ghouls had done.

This was the same magic that had ended the lives of her parents, befouled the Sunwell, and almost destroyed Quel'thalas. Was it truly worth it?

She frowned, then turned her back to the tome and walked to the window, lost in thought.

Orgrimmar

Back in the Valley of Honor dinner was had, the night wore on, and finally Sekhi and her family retired to their wagon for bed. The shamaness laid down on her bedroll, hearing the familiar song of Durotar all around her. The deep metallic tones of earth and the soft gentle flutes of wind, the faint drums of the nearby ocean, and the fiery fiddle-like sound of the heat that warmed the red rocks during the day… drifting off to sleep from it all.

A moment later her eyes snapped open.

Sekhi was no longer in her wagon, or Orgrimmar, or Durotar even.

All around her was a deep endless cavern, the ceiling so high she couldn’t even see it… Suddenly her head snapped left, then right as she felt the fur on her hackles raise. She thought she heard things moving around her, just out of sight.

Her eyes were wide, her ears flicking back and forth as she instinctively drew her flute from her pouch. She tried to look around but saw only deep inky black shadows in all directions.

She whimpered, peering around at the darkness. She could swear she saw huge shapes in the gloom, the occasional flash of an eye lighting it up for a moment. She could barely make them out but something about how they moved put her in mind of massive insects... perhaps some kind of arachnid or giant spider.

Then she heard something, her ears immediately perking up.

“Huh? Who’s there?” she called out.

It came again, the shamaness padding along the path ahead after the source of the sound.

“Yeah! I hear ya! Who are ya?!” she yipped, the vulpera still hearing the movement in the shadows but this new sound overrode that fear. Something about it was so insistent, the voice carrying an urgency that the shamaness couldn't deny.

Finally, she stumbled to a halt at the edge of what appeared to be an underground cliff. She looked down, her ears folding back as her face was lit up by a glow as bright as the sun itself. Below her was… well… she didn’t know how to describe it. It was huge, big enough to fill the entire world! Suddenly, she heard it again... a voice, a musical call shining up from within what was below her...

HEAR ME.

Sekhi sat bolt upright on her bedroll, her heart pounding and her ears flattened against her head. Nearby she heard the faint snores of her father, her mother’s gentle breathing next to him as they slept on, and on her other side her twin siblings dozed together in their own bedroll.

“… a dream?” she whispered.

Then she heard a voice nearby.

Leza was sitting up in her own cot, wearing just a pullover top and shorts to bed, her eyes huge. “Sekhi… did ya hear it too?” she whispered.

#adventures in azeroth #warcraft roleplay #warcraft fanfiction #dragonflight #original characters

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