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redisaid · 2 years

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In Good Company - Chapter 24

Parting Glass/Sing for Myself

This one will be followed by a short epilogue when I get around to it. Almost done! What a long strange journey this elf fic has been.

8821 Words

Read it on Ao3!

The sun felt good on her skin. It was like a warm, lingering kiss--not unlike the kind that Sylvanas seemed to have become fond of leaving on her shoulder in the few private moments they’d since shared. Jaina felt the Ranger General had a goal of kissing each freckle that had donned her there, but it would take more than a few stolen minutes in the infirmary for her to accomplish such a thing.

But the sun. The sun. She hadn’t thought about how she’d missed it. How good it was to have her boots pad across the soil and greenery of the forest floor, making as little noise as possible, even though it was hardly necessary just outside of the city. In fact, the protected woods of Eversong were more gold than green, but it didn’t matter. Jaina felt good. So good. Despite it all, despite everything, she felt right here, putting one foot in front of the other, marching in a line with the other rangers.

Ahead of her, Cindel’s blue cloak fluttered in a light and welcomed breeze. It was fully and deeply summer now in Quel’thalas, and the sun certainly brought a heat with it. Behind her, Illeryn entertained Artemesia, humming an acknowledgement to her chatter as they strode out of the shade and into the clearing.

Having spent three months now doing mostly this--just walking, it was hard to imagine that today would be the last day she’d walk with these women like this. Tomorrow, they would go their separate ways, to their assignments and duties, and only unite again if battle called for their return as a diversified unit.

Jaina had found herself contemplating the purpose of that all morning. Why did the elves separate their military in such a way? Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to train with troops like themselves? Snipers with snipers, spies with spies, mages with mages, priests with priests?

But, it worked like this. It really did. Jaina had seen it firsthand, in and out of battle, that the variety of skills and specialties that her squadmates possessed always had some use. She wondered when would be the next time she would see someone disappear into the shadows like Valeera could, or pick up the faintest of tracks and trails like Illeryn. And for a moment she wondered what she really had to offer herself in return, but banished the thought soon enough. She knew she had plenty. Her sister rangers had made her feel it was enough, and finally, she was ready to believe them.

As she drifted back down from that thought, Jaina noticed a heavy step fall in beside her. She glanced over to find Liadrin falling back to her side from further up the line, looking at her with an apology in her shining blue eyes.

Shining not unlike Jaina’s did now, and continued to do. Part of the reason, she was sure, that Liadrin was already sorry to bother her checking in yet again.

“I’m sure you can guess what I’m about to ask, but how are you feeling?” Liadrin ventured anyway, knowing that she’d asked the same question far too many times over the last few days.

“I’m good. Really good, actually,” Jaina told her.

She still hadn’t mentioned the song that now hummed pleasantly in the back of her mind, instead of being a distant discord of confusing noise she had to make an effort to ignore. Jaina wasn’t sure it really mattered. She wasn’t sure how much more it would drive Liadrin to ask her question after endless question. But most of all, it felt so deeply personal and private. Something maybe every elf had as their own relationship to the Sunwell, so intrinsic that it was never discussed among her peers.

Perhaps one day, she’d tell Sylvanas about it. But not Liadrin. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“I’m just doing my duty, and reminding you that I’d like to see you regularly for check ups in Silvermoon, once your schedule allows. And also to remind you that if I don’t tell the magistrate that I’m taking care of it and to leave you alone, that they will likely become even more annoying than me,” Liadrin went on.

Her lips twitched up into a little mischievous smile that read of someone who spent a little too much time with a far more mischievous person, but Jaina knew by now that Liadrin’s stoic exterior was as much a front as Sylvanas’ perfect one was. She had plenty of her own mischief within, and no need to borrow from Valeera.

“I’m planning to take you up on that offer, don’t worry,” Jaina assured her. “And I will once I see how today goes.”

“There’s no need to be nervous,” Liadrin told her. “We have your back. And you are news again for an entirely different reason outside of being the first human ranger in Quel’thalas.”

“Maybe one day I won’t be news at all,” Jaina sighed. “But I suppose today isn’t that day.”

“I don’t think that day will ever come for you, Jaina Proudmoore,” Liadrin said with a deep laugh. “But I mean it in a positive way. You are influential in all that you do, whether you like to be or not. Perhaps one day you will take comfort in it and find that you do indeed thrive when all eyes are on you.”

“Perhaps I’ll find the time to split all the attention with maybe a little sliver of peace and quiet.”

Because as much as it felt great to walk in the sun, to revel in her new and personal understandings on her way to a ceremony where she would be very visible and very different despite it all, Jaina had a great longing for an evening with a cup of tea and a good book and not much else. Maybe Sylvanas quietly doing paperwork nearby, offering her a silent smile on occasion. Yes, that would be lovely, actually.

“Speaking of news,” Liadrin noted, thankfully steering the conversation away from health-related nagging, “I managed to catch up with Lor’themar just now.”

That was an easy feat, as his troops had waited out finishing their Thalasdiel until Sylvanas’ could march with them, as Jaina came to understand was promised between them. Lor’themar had taken the extra few days in the city to help manage the investigation into Kael’thas and Dar’khan’s plans--along with Sylvanas’ siblings and just about any other elf that had been friendly toward Jaina during her time in their lands.

“Anything new?” Jaina asked, knowing it was likely there wasn’t much.

Liadrin shrugged, ears pinning back a bit in her own annoyance. “Not really. You heard yourself that Anasterian formally stripped Kael’thas of his titles just before we left and declared he would be seeking a new heir to the throne. There’s rumors that he’ll offer it to Sylvanas.”

Jaina snorted out a laugh so quickly at that that there was never even an opportunity to contain it. “She would never accept.”

“Of course she wouldn’t,” Liadrin agreed with a grin. “There’s no chance she’d give the rangers up to someone else, and no chance she’d ever want a royal title to begin with. I should hope Anasterian realizes that he would be barking up a very incorrect tree there, but I think the old man knows enough to avoid the embarrassment of her turning him down.”

Jaina laughed again at this, finding it took a bit of the edge off of her nerves. Between the summer sun dappling through the leaves and joking about her superiors, she could nearly forget about what lay ahead for her at the end of this last trail.

“Kael’thas is still not talking, of course. Dar’khan has only spoken to berate his guards and call them ‘feeble-minded and near-sighted’, or so they report. Funny how he still seems to think this was a good plan, even though he’s the one rotting in a cell. He looks even stupider without that awful hat, if you can believe it,” Liadrin went on.

“What about their magisters? Did they have anything new to say?” Jaina asked.

More of Kael’thas’ followers had come forth with information in the days after Jaina awoke, especially once they learned that one of their own had been allowed to go home on house arrest for his cooperation. Together they had painted a picture of a plan that had involved Jaina from the moment she was introduced to Sylvanas in Dalaran, with neither of them being the wiser. As deeply guilty and annoyed as Jaina felt for allowing herself to be played, Sylvanas quite obviously felt it tenfold, so much so that her rage at the whole situation often slipped past her mask in polite company, and her apologies for it were a constant and steady stream in the private moments that she and Jaina had gotten to share since.

But in the end, all they knew was that Kael’thas had specifically sought Jaina out to bring to the Sunwell for some sort of fel ritual, and that he had assured his confidantes that it was of the utmost importance. Only a late ferry and the former prince’s own overconfidence had saved those magisters from the decision of whether or not to turn traitor against their own Ranger General in order to allow the ritual to come to fruition.

For her part, Jaina didn’t feel as though any part of it had. Everything had happened so suddenly, and her memory of much of that day was still foggy. She certainly didn’t feel any of the demonic energies that she had studied in her investigations into the orcish Horde. The only difference she knew for it were her glowing eyes and the pleasant song that tugged gently at her heartstrings if she listened long enough. Oh, and yes, a greater percentage of white in her hair. After actually getting time to examine herself properly, alone, Jaina found that the steaks of gold in her hair had been reduced to one singular large streak just above her forehead, with the rest gone a uniform snowy white from the arcane exposure. So there was that.

It was no surprise then when Liadrin shook her head for a “no” on that matter. Kael’thas had left his own men in the dark in an attempt to trick them as much as he had everyone else.

“I suspect it may be months, even years, before we know the whole of it,” Liadrin said. “But maybe not. Kael’thas was always vain, and I wouldn’t put it past him to write down some brilliant master plan of his somewhere to enshrine, if only so he could point out later just how brilliant it all was. Vereesa is leading a team now to search through his property on the royal estates for more information, but it’ll take time to sift through all of his notes.”

“I suppose it really doesn’t matter in the end,” Jaina noted. “What happened has already happened, and we know it wasn’t what he wanted. We won and he lost.”

“Your esteemed Ranger General and new girlfriend would argue that it’s not good strategy to ignore the motives of one’s attackers,” Liadrin said with another wide grin. She and the others had taken to teasing Jaina and Sylvanas relentlessly in their last opportunities to do so, but always with great fondness and support of their now known relationship.

“I would argue that she can worry about it all she likes, but I’d rather move on from it sooner rather than later,” Jaina told her. “Gods know I’ve learned that lesson at least from my past.”

“I don’t blame you. It seems as though you’ll be too busy to worry about it much soon enough,” Liadrin said, this time reaching out to offer Jaina an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

If she were to go back and tell herself three months ago that she’d actually come to enjoy the touchy-feely nature of the elves, then past Jaina likely wouldn’t have believed future Jaina. It had been a thing that greatly unnerved her in the beginning, but now she enjoyed it, and smiled back at Liadrin for her efforts rather than wanting it to be over as soon as possible. The tactile nature of her comrades now made her feel welcome and included, rather than standout. And she was trying her best to become comfortable with reciprocating in kind.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Jaina noted, giving Liadrin her best warm smile.

And it wasn’t so hard to do that. It came naturally to her lips and didn’t feel forced. Jaina realized all at once, out there in the manicured woods of Eversong, that it was easy for her to smile now. Easier than it had been in a very long time. Here in this place where she wasn’t supposed to belong, she had more friends who cared deeply about her than she’d ever had before. She had found love. She had found a purpose. And even when someone tried to take it all from her again, those friends had come through and didn’t let them.

She reveled in that feeling even as Liadrin broke off from her with a nod. She went to join the three captains, who seemed to have been waiting for them to catch up on the side of the path. And while they didn’t invite Jaina to join along with her, all three gave her a similar nod of respect and acknowledgement that was more than enough to have her heart soaring again.

To think she had once feared these older, battle-hardened elves, with their eyes full of steely scrutiny. Thalasdiel had chipped away at their hardened exteriors too. Illeryn had been fast to reveal herself as nosy and motherly while never admitting to either. Ayndais was quick with her blade and her bow, but snored fiercely in her sleep and had a loyalty to the Rangers as a whole that ran deeper than could be comprehended. And Tessandra’s wise gaze held a kindness behind it that also knew no bounds. Jaina had been privileged to get to know them as people rather than names and titles, and it made the purpose of this journey all the more apparent to her.

As she passed them, she found a few of Lor’themar’s rangers had intermingled with the line and were now pulling off to the side to reform themselves behind Sylvanas’ troops. Jaina looked ahead and found that she could start to see signs of buildings and activity in distant clearings ahead. They were getting close now.

A nervousness began to prick at Jaina’s skin even as she returned nods and smiles from Lor’themar’s rangers, but obviously not the fond cants of their long ears. Again, the change of her eyes she could very much deal with, but she found herself thankful that the Sunwell had left her human enough to the point where she hadn’t sprouted those ridiculous ears. Well, even if she did find them very endearing on her elven comrades.

But it was another set of ears that were instead pricked upward with excitement that caught her eye over the line, along with the dark hair they sprung from. Cindel was waiting at the side of the trail for her, and fell into step with Jaina, beaming.

“Excited to see your family again?” Jaina asked after her grin.

“Of course,” Cindel answered, and then added with a wink, “But I’m also excited for a little something else.”

And while Jaina knew what she was referring to, that was also exactly what had her on edge. Liadrin had said she needed to get used to having eyes on her, but the relief of those eyes being limited these last few months had been wonderful. And now it was about to be very much broken and very much the opposite all over again.

Oh the things she and her ambitions got herself into…

“You don’t seem so excited?” Cindel wondered, her brows furrowing as she took the time to analyze Jaina’s reaction.

“I am excited,” Jaina told her. “It’s just that I hope this is enough. I hope the Ranger Lords can see what I have to offer and that I’m worth their consideration.”

“Well, it’s Sylvanas’ say and not theirs, at the end of the day,” Cindel reminded her. “And she’s already decided.”

“I also don’t want it to seem like that’s because I’m a charity case or something,” Jaina went on.

“You are not and never have been a charity case, Jaina. As sweet as we both know she secretly is, Sylvanas doesn’t do charity cases. She would never have allowed you into the Rangers unless she saw some potential in you,” Cindel said with a nod and a confidence that didn’t seem at home in the woman that Jaina had first met at the very lodge that loomed ahead of them, with the magistrix glaring at her across the dimly-lit alcove, afraid she was staring down her replacement.

But now they had become fast friends in the portion of their walk after Cindel had warmed up to her. And while Cindel had started their trip feeling inferior, Jaina had soon found her to be a wealth of knowledge, now offered freely to her, about many things she sorely lacked expertise in herself. Whether it be fire magic, elven culture and history, or even the useful properties of the herbs and flowers of Quel’thalas and their relevance to magic. She’d truly found a kindred spirit in the realms of study and odd knowledge, and had very much enjoyed her talks with Cindel on the trail. So much so that they had already planned for Jaina to visit her and her family in Fairbreeze Village as soon as her new schedule would allow.

“And trust me Jaina,” Cindel continued. “From what you’ve shared with me, and how you plan to help people like me specifically, this is a thing sorely needed. Most elves don’t like change. We’re stuck in the languid pace of our lives and our funny little traditions, but sometimes a change is exactly what we need to be reminded of our place in the world again. Even more fitting that it should come from outside. Quel’thalas is just another kingdom of many in the world, and in the Alliance. We could stand to listen to others more, especially if they are as brilliant as you.”

Jaina chuckled at that last bit, and Cindel followed suit shortly thereafter. While her fellow mage didn’t quite possess the depths of power that she did, Cindel certainly had the intellect for the profession, and they’d taken plenty of turns calling each other some variation of smart before devolving into laughter over the last few months. It certainly wasn’t the outcome that Jaina had predicted for them as they met for the first time at Farstrider Retreat, but she was very glad that this was where they had ended up upon their return.

“You’re going to be fine,” Cindel assured her after waving off her laugh. “More than fine. Amazing. I know it. And you know it too.”

Jaina nodded to this. While she still didn’t quite have her answer as to what that potential in her was, she felt that this was right. She didn’t have the words for it, and likely never would. Some things didn’t quite need words to make sense.

She’d tried to find them in her journal, scribbling in her infirmary bed. Jaina had crossed out as many lines as she’d left uncrossed, until Sylvanas dropped by and asked what she was writing about. She’d just shaken her head and closed the book. Opening her arms to Sylvanas for an embrace was far more appealing than trying to find words that would never come. Feeling and being, in fact, might just be better than scribbling at a deeper meaning. Jaina hadn’t felt the urge to write in her journal since, at least not when Sylvanas was an option for distraction instead, and her quiet appreciation and soft smirks were just as good a sounding board for Jaina’s thoughts as pen and paper.

The line began to spread out more as they hit the clearing in which Farstrider Retreat stood. The golden oaks parted only just a bit in their canopy far above to provide a few shafts of bright sunlight to illuminate the lodge, and what appeared to be several hundred elves gathered there to welcome home the two squadrons from their walk. Jaina watched as Sylvanas broke off from the point of their line, and made her way to greet the Ranger Lords. She knew she wouldn’t see all that much of her today, due to all the pomp and circumstance of her having to officially take back her duties as Ranger General. Jaina knew she wouldn’t honestly see as much of her as she liked for quite a while after this because of the very same thing, but that was fine.

She could be content with what little moments they would get to share. Jaina was never one to feel cheated by business. She too thrived on a schedule that didn’t leave her too much time to think. Even so, imagining those evenings where she might wait for Sylvanas in the Ranger General’s suite, only to see her walk through the door and drop that mask of hers into her goofy little smile, all just for her, was worth waiting as long as she needed to for it.

But it was a different Windrunner who caught her eye next. Gold flashed near the white walls of the Retreat’s main spire, as Lirath waved to her over his other sister’s silvery head. Indeed it did appear that both Windrunner siblings were content to ignore their older sister and leave her to her important business, but were very much trying to get Jaina’s attention.

“It seems I have go pay Vereesa and Lirath a visit before things get started,” Jaina noted to Cindel.

Cindel chuckled at this as she noticed them waving. “It seems so. It will be a while before they get things set up anyway. Take your time. Liardin will probably round everyone up long before the ceremonies start and make us stand around anyway.”

“She’s so good at it though,” Jaina laughed.

She bid Cindel farewell for now and broke from the line as many others were doing. They went off to friends and family who had gathered to see them home. And while Jaina wouldn’t be finding any Proudmoores among the crowd, or any other humans for that matter, the Windrunner siblings were still waving with enough gusto for her to easily forget that fact and trot over to them.

And if those thoughts weren’t otherwise banished, they would have been choked out of her by the crushing sandwich hug that Vereesa and Lirath seemed to have weaponized for that exact purpose. At least it had that effect on Sylvanas when she wasn’t too busy, but Jaina counted herself lucky to be on the receiving end today.

“Jaina! How was your walk? You’re okay being back on your feet again?” Vereesa asked as she pulled back and looked her over.

Her silvery hair was a standout among the mostly blonde sea of clustered elves. While there were some other similar standouts, and rare dots of red or brown or black, Jaina always found herself struck with the general sameness of the elves. No wonder they were afraid of new and different things as a whole.

“I’m good, really,” Jaina answered for what felt like the thousandth time in the last week.

She’d been back on her feet since that evening she woke up in the infirmary. Liadrin and her team of fellow priests had healed her completely as she slept, and while she wasn’t exactly at the full peak strength she had previously been enjoying for a few days thereafter, she had been more than ready for half a day's walk and very much ready to complete her Thalasdiel ever since.

Still, Vereesa peered up at her dubiously from beneath the green of her Farstrider hood as she pulled back, examining her for herself, and squinted her own glowing eyes at Jaina’s when she seemed to find nothing else amiss.

Lirath, for his part, mimed annoyance with his sister. But, at the same time, Jaina could feel his arcane energy brushing up against hers in its own askance, checking to see if there was anything magically different about her. He’d done it before and reported that he hadn’t noticed anything, as had other magisters who had come calling in the days Jaina and the others had been given to recover. And while Jaina wondered at whether or not anything really had changed about her magically, she decided that if it had, it was imperceptible to the elves either way, who always seemed to take their connection to the Sunwell for granted.

“Well, we’re going to have to face facts and get this over with, aren’t we?” Lirath asked, turning to his sister with a grin after he seemed to be content that the results of his own prodding remained the same.

“Afraid so,” Vereesa agreed.

“I’m sorry, but what are you two talking about?” Jaina questioned them both.

She looked between them, finding them an odd mixture of their older sister’s features. Lirath was tall and lanky, with hair a bright buttery gold. Vereesa was the smallest of the three, and seemed more youthful in her appearance even than her younger brother. But somehow, if you were to shake them together, you’d get Sylvanas out of it. A grinning Sylvanas on the verge of some sort of mischief or scolding, and little inbetween.

“Whether or not things work out with our sister, we have decided you are now a Windrunner and shall remain one,” Lirath announced. “Mostly because we like you and find you to be very interesting and fun. Also because Sylvanas would be a fool to let you get away from her.”

Before Jaina could even react to that, Vereesa added, “And since you are now an honorary Windrunner sibling, you are now required to obey the pact of not doing anything risky or stupid for the next decade or so.”

“I wanted to impose a century, but Vereesa insisted we needed to be flexible,” Lirath offered.

“That could be her whole lifetime!”

“Look at those eyes Little Moon! I highly doubt it now.”

“But you don’t know it!”

“Please,” Jaina said with a laugh, getting in-between them again to stop whatever was threatening to start. “We can debate the terms later. But a while with no foolishness sounds good to me.”

“Wait, you’re just fine with it?” Vereesa wondered.

“That’s very boring of you, Jaina,” Lirath told her. “Not to put up a fight.”

“Boring sounds nice,” Jaina noted to both of them, pulling them both into a loose hug on either arm. “Boring as in busy but peaceful nonsense. Getting into only very mild trouble with you and the magistrate, Lirath. And dragging Sylvanas with me to visit you in Dalaran, Vereesa.”

“She hates Dalaran,” Vereesa said with a vigorous nod and a wide grin.

“She really hates Dalaran,” Lirath agreed in fashion. “So you’ll have to bring me along as well.”

“We’ll plan on it,” Jaina told him. “And thank you. I missed having a little brother. And I’ve never had a sister.”

“Jaina, I’m twice your age,” Lirath reminded her, giving her the slightest playful shove with his construct arm, seemingly not even thinking about it anymore. It was so long ago that he didn’t even trust it to touch a doorknob.

“Act like it then,” Vereesa snapped at him while still beaming all the while.

“And as for your sister,” Jaina told them, “I think I’d be a fool to lose her too.”

She found herself looking for Sylvanas over their heads. She wasn’t hard to pick out, having already dressed in her Ranger General regalia for the ceremonies ahead. She was a glittering star amongst a sea of blues and greens, whether she liked it or not. Jaina knew that some part of her did. Sylvanas liked to shine, and shine she did in that clearing, in the light of the blessed sun. While Jaina knew she carried a shared nervousness, same as hers, Sylvanas didn’t show it as she smiled at the Ranger Lords she spoke to from beneath her mask of perfection. Flawed as she was underneath it, and aware of those flaws as Jaina was, none of them dulled her shine.

Only it was the Ranger Lord Jaina didn’t expect who blocked her view of Sylvanas with a glass of mana wine that nearly spilled onto Lirath’s head.

“Jaina!” Lor’themar shouted, thrusting the glass at her again despite the precarious angle. “Drink with us a bit until we have to stand around like idiots for the rest of this fine afternoon.”

She carefully took up the glass to avoid soaking her newly-declared brother, who looked more offended that it wasn’t being offered to him than anything. “Shouldn’t you be preparing a speech or something.”

“Me? No,” Lor’themar waved with his own near-empty glass. “Everyone knows I wing it every time. You don’t need to prepare when you’re a natural speaker like me, or at least not a damn perfectionist like Sylvanas.”

He too was clad in the obnoxious ceremonial grab of a Ranger Lord, more gilded and less practical than anything. Each Ranger Lord seemed to have a different flair for their own version of the outfit, and Lor’themar’s involved a pair of pauldrons that threatened to rival Kael’thas’ in size. These were formed like bird’s wings pointing upward--the of a specific type of eagle that Jaina had since learned was the emblem of his house.

In the distance, closer toward the entrance of the main spire of the Retreat, Jaina could hear what seemed to be the beginning of a song.

“See, they’re starting without us!” Lor’themar protested as he moved to tug on Jaina’s arm and drag her away from the Windrunner siblings.

“Another tradition?” Jaina wondered aloud.

“Of course,” Lor’themar answered. “Because no one would make it through all this pageantry while completely sober, especially after three months of not having to deal with it. Better we ease our way back into our stuffy society with drink and song--one last time before it’s over. Oh, and good day Vereesa, Lirath. There’s plenty more wine back that way if you also need something to tide you over.”

“Thank the gods,” Lirath drolled and then speedily led the way toward the song.

Jaina followed Lor’themar, eventually looping her arm in with his and allowing herself to be escorted to the impromptu final party that was forming on the steps of the Retreat. As they got closer, she could make out the shapes of each of her own squadron, mixed with Lor’themar’s and a few other stray rangers or their relatives that had come to join in.

But that wasn’t the standout in her mind as they got closer. It was the song. A song she, for once, knew. A song she was pretty certain had its origins in different parts of this world, but was being sung in Thalassian as if it were made for it.

“Of all the money that ever I had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm I’ve ever done, Alas it was to none but me.”

“I know this song,” Jaina couldn’t help but remark. “It’s the very last day and you all are finally singing a song I know already.”

Lor’themar just laughed. “Everyone knows this song.”

“I thought it was Kul Tiran,” she admitted, but washed away that potential existential crisis with a sip of sweet mana wine.

“And the dwarves say it was theirs first too,” Lor’themar told her. “But I can tell you that as a proud Farstrider, this song has been sung in every tavern I’ve ever been in, around every hearth where there are friends and a bit of alcohol to be found. No one is too good for it or above its singing. So don’t worry too much about it. Sing with us, Jaina. One more time.”

And so she joined him, feeling the rumbling of his baritone through where he held her arm along his ribs, at least until he spun her out and brought her back to her fellow rangers with characteristic flair.

“And all I've done for want of wit, To memory now I can't recall. So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be to you all.”

---

Ceremonies always filled Sylvanas with an age old nervous dread she could never quite shake. Though she had been through perhaps thousands of like events in her days, she always felt as though her mother was watching her with the same stern and steely gray eyes that looked back at her in the mirror and demanded attention and attentiveness--two things Lireesa Windrunner never failed to remind her were separate and equally important.

Sylvanas even swore she could sometimes hear her mother still saying, “Eyes up, recruit. They may not be watching you now, but someday they will. And you will have to be ready for it.”

Sylvanas was never quite ready, but had mastered the art of acting the part all the same. She’d spent the better part of the week preparing this speech, between being pestered by Liadrin and her healers and making sure her squadron stuck to their mandated rest and observation within the infirmary. The latter, of course, having been far more difficult than the former. Yet despite it all, she had managed to find time to spend with Jaina every day. She suspected that, despite her worrying, this behavior would be even easier when her squadron was no longer her sole responsibility to manage after today.

She had a view of about half the room below from where she stood, waiting for her introduction. Jaina was at the very end of that sliver of light--smiling between Illeryn and Lor’themar’s recruit--the young man named Hathvelion. They stood with their squadrons as they had before, ready to be addressed, though this time Jaina looked far less bewildered, if still a little nervous.

She had nothing to be nervous about, really. While plenty of the Ranger Lords had offered a grumble or two to Sylvanas about the human she’d admitted to their ranks, and her intentions for her and the changes that would come with it, they had been more than grumbles. The annoyed huffing roars of old lions past their prime. The younger among them had immediately taken to the idea of better incorporating their mages into their ranks with Jaina’s lead, and it had been all that Sylvanas could do to get away from their eager questions when it was time for the ceremony to begin.

She watched now as Halduron graciously thanked the assemblage for aiding him in his time as acting Ranger General, and watched his ears seem to fall back with his relief as he bowed and pointed toward the doorway, once again introducing her as Ranger General Sylvanas Windrunner.

Perhaps one day, she’d feel like she truly deserved the title. But the doubt she felt about herself seemed a little less crushing as she found Jaina looking up at her and smiling.

“Rangers,” she began, voice echoing over the expanse of the open-air spire of Farstrider’s Retreat. “It is with great pride that I greet you today, in order to both take up my mantle again, and to mark the end of another Thalasdiel for both my own squadron, and that of my esteemed comrade in arms, Lord Lor’themar Theron. But pride really is an odd word, and one both fitting and not fitting for this day.”

“I’m often asked by young rangers, still recruits just starting their journey, what is the point of Thalasdiel? Why walk around the kingdom? I remember asking my mother this question as she left for one when I was still quite small. Her answer was that it taught the troops to appreciate the land they defend. And while that’s true, each time I walk, I’m reminded of the other purposes of this journey.”

Sylvanas gazed out over faces she would probably not see again for some time. Liadrin would go back to her duties as a High Priestess of Belore, serving under her adopted father, who seemed intent on having her replace him as he retired, while she seemed intent on not allowing him to do so. Valeera, though she didn’t know it yet, would be going to train with Anya and her spies, to see if she could adopt enough discipline to work in the quieter arts of the Rangers, and if that might be a better fit for her than the Home Guard. The others too, had their places and their duties to return to. Illeryn would go back to scouting and charting. The twins back to guarding the docks. Ayndais and Tessandra back to commanding where they were needed most at the border of the ever-present conflict with the Amani.

They would all scatter again soon, floating on the wind like dandelion seeds blown to the four corners of the kingdom.

“We walk for many reasons,” Sylvanas continued. “We walk to appreciate our land, yes. We walk to appreciate our feet, and our bodies, and the work they do to protect this place. We walk too, to get to know one another, and to connect with those we will fight alongside. But as anyone who has walked a Thalasdiel or two can tell you, pride is the first and most important thing to go as we walk.”

“We’re often seen as a people who hold pride in an unbecoming way. We think ourselves better, older, wiser than the world. But pride is often misplaced in a ranger. Pride doesn’t keep you vigilant. It doesn’t keep you strong. It keeps you from changing because you think you don’t need to. But pride doesn’t last long when you’re sleeping around the same fire and complaining about the heat and your knees together. And I think that’s often something we choose to overlook because it isn’t pretty to talk about. But it’s also so important.”

“Each time I walk, I am humbled by both this land, and by my fellow rangers. I am reminded that we are all just that--Rangers. Each and every one of us, regardless of differences in uniform or title. All of us are Rangers, and that’s what we have to be proud of.”

With the last line, Sylvanas made an effort to look right at Jaina, both for show and for grounding. Jaina offered her a very subtle nod, one that only she could really see from this angle above her in the crowd. One that said she understood and appreciated the reminder. And then with it her eyes conveyed a message in their new, soft glow that seemed to say, “Then come down here with me, ranger. I miss you.”

It was a wonder Sylvanas even made it through her speech, because she very much wanted to. She felt so much for Jaina that it was almost dangerous. But very good. Very good and a little dangerous, at least in terms of her productivity.

“And with that,” she went on, suppressing a smirk as she tore her eyes away from Jaina. “It’s my honor to re-introduce Lord Theron to have him honor the newest member of his squadron.”

Lor’themar reappeared from the alcove, shouldering in infront of her with his ridiculous Ranger Lord getup with a nod. He’d already made his speech earlier, a rambling diatribe about how his time among his squadron was like so many gold pieces that he collected or something. She’d mostly tuned him out to rehearse her own speech again.

“Rangers,” he started, gesturing to his new recruit down below. “It is with great pleasure that I reintroduce you to Ranger Hathvelion Sungaze. He first drew my attention during a visit to the academy that I undertook a few years past. I watched him tackle that dreaded obstacle course with ease, and asked after him. Ranger Sungaze here has a keen interest in the mountains, and was so good at that damnable thing because he enjoys climbing them. The rest of my men can attest that this is a skill we do not have, and thus I kept in touch with Ranger Sungaze to learn more about it, and to ask after his interest in joining my squadron after training. I’m pleased to say that he was interested, and that I will be announcing him as taking a leading role in our new alpine training program for Farstriders headed toward mountainous regions of Azeroth.”

Cheers erupted from below, and Lor’themar’s men piled around Hathvelion, offering their own brand of deep shouts of encouragement and pats on the back that came as audible claps that echoed through the spire.

Lor’themar turned back to look at Sylvanas, offering her a silent smile and reintroduction. After a moment, he slid his hand out in gesture, pointing the way, and whispered. “She’ll do great. I know it.”

Sylvanas nodded back to this. It wasn’t Jaina she was worried about. It never was. No, Jaina could handle herself, always. That was part of one of the many things that Sylvanas very much liked about her.

Sylvanas stepped back up to the front and said, “It is my pleasure to reintroduce you to Ranger Jaina Proudmoore.”

All eyes were on her now, and now all of them were glowing. Though Sylvanas was concerned about this latest feature of Jaina’s, this last week had assured her that the woman she was very much falling in love with remained the same, despite her newly luminous gaze. It did make her a little bit harder to pick out of the crowd of elves, but not much. Sylvanas decided she wouldn’t like it any other way.

“As you might know, Jaina is unlike any other ranger I’ve had the honor of commanding. And it’s not because she is the only human currently in our ranks. The former Prince Kael’thas clearly had other motives when he introduced us, but instead of fulfilling his sinister plans, I now have to unfortunately offer him some measure of gratitude for bringing Jaina to my attention. She demonstrated skill with the bow that matched and exceeded many of our best, and showed me a new technique she had developed of combining magic and archer in a way I had not yet seen. When I spoke before on pride, I have to admit that I myself carried plenty of it that day, and it had me initially turning the idea of bringing her in as a ranger down. But, her passion for her art and the innovations she derives from it was what sold me then, and what continues to sell me every day I have spent in her company,” Sylvanas explained.

“Rangers, I would like for you to see the same passion that I have seen before I make my announcement.”

Sylvanas gestured toward the ceiling, bidding the audience to look up, but not before making an effort to catch her brother’s eye and make sure he was ready. Lirath grinned at her before his ears pinned back in concentration, and he conjured a looping line of arcane targets that swirled through the air.

Before she could even dwell on the fact that it was good to see him confidently practicing his magic again, a set of gasps followed. Sylvanas turned her gaze to her squadron as they formed up beneath Jaina, lifting her up onto a platform formed of their backs. She stood proudly and bravely above the crowd on a carpet of blue and green cloaks, her spellbow gripped tightly in her hands. The crystals on it flared to life, glowing as they helped her to concentrate and funnel her magic into the projectiles she had mastered.

Jaina sent missiles of frost, fire, and arcane soaring to the targets, hitting each one perfectly. Her accuracy didn’t wane with the nervousness that Sylvanas knew she must be feeling, just as it hadn’t in Dalaran. Her eyes flared with the use of magic, glowing brighter with the same fire that Sylvanas had seen in them then, only now made obvious for all.

She didn’t miss a single shot, even as Lirath sped the targets up, whipping them just below the ceiling of the open spire.

“A good Ranger General knows when they are seeing something new and wonderful, something that can help them, and can help us all defend this land. I can see you too are impressed. And while I think we can all see the practical implications of this technique, where myself and Jaina see it helping our organization the most comes down yet again to pride,” Sylvanas said before nodding again. “Cindel, if you would.”

Another figure joined Jaina on the backs of her squadron, lifted up for what seemed like the first time in a long while. Cindel had served them tirelessly as a ranger mage, but had never really been given the chance to shine. Not like this. Hers was a thankless and unglamours job, or well, it once was. Not anymore.

For she too produced a spellbow. It wasn’t quite as pretty as Jaina’s or as neatly crafted. It had been a thing rushed and hastily put together with this idea over the last week--crystals that Lirath had been sent to pilfer, wood that Illeryn had conned a quartermaster out of, paint that the others had gathered herbs and pigments for from gardens all across Silvermoon. It was mostly Jaina’s effort in recreating under such duress, but really the effort of the entire squadron.

Lirath spun a new set of targets into the air. No one seemed to complain that these drifted at quite a lazy pace. Cindel had only had a week to practice, after all.

But she hit quite a few of her shots. Not all of them, but more than half. Her fire missiles seemed to be the best and brightest of them, though she did manage to create one of every kind. But more importantly, the crowd watched as a ranger mage shot a bow--a woman who had once told Sylvanas she felt a failure, and that she was assigned this job because she didn’t belong, smiled as she felt like she finally did belong.

And Jaina grinned along with her at her success, and kept it up as they finished together, both shooting in a whirl of magic at a third set of targets.

“Ranger Jaina Proudmoore has done me the honor of teaching me that such innovations don’t necessarily mean abandoning our past, our traditions. They might provide us a way to improve upon them. She will be seeking to make our ranger mages feel more at home in their squadrons by training them in this technique, as well as providing them a sense of identity and leadership within the Ranger Corps as a whole. Over the next few years, she will be working with me to create a division that the mages in our company can feel proud to represent.”

While Sylvanas had expected to meet with a bit of silence, maybe some grumbling and glaring, she was surprised to find that the reaction to this announcement was mostly one of cheers. Resounding, happy cheers. A few stunned into just offering claps and nods.

But overall, it was overwhelmingly a reaction of acceptance.

They saw it too. They’d all seen it now. Jaina caught Sylvanas’ eyes again, as Liadrin and Illeryn lifted her on their shoulders even higher, and nodded back up at her. She might not have wanted a life in the spotlight, but there was little Sylvanas could do to deny that it looked good on her. And she thought that Jaina might know that too.

Lor’themar, for his part, was at least kind enough to wait for the cheers to die down a bit before he edged back in front of her again and announced, “Way to steal the show, Sylvanas, Jaina. I have a feeling it will keep happening, but that’s a story for another day. I think we’ve all had enough of speeches and demonstrations. Shall we end this thing and celebrate?”

The cheers roiled up again to meet him from below, and were especially loud from his own men.

“Then let’s hear you two sing! One more song for the roads we’ve walked and will walk again in time,” Lor’themar commanded.

Sylvanas knew that Jaina had probably been more nervous about this moment than her magical demonstration. She couldn’t blame her. The singing had been something she didn’t seem to expect, but had embraced as their journey went on. But to Jaina, music had always seemed to feel a tad too personal. She’d balked a bit when Sylvanas had been the one to explain to her that she would be expected to lead the squadron in a final song.

But Sylvanas had also watched her over the last week, practicing when she thought no one was within hearing range, or within sight as well. Unfortunately for her, Sylvanas had excellent hearing, excellent sight, and a particular love of her voice.

She watched as Jaina readied herself, now thankfully let down from the shoulders of the other rangers, as they backed off and gave her and Hathvelion space to stand together in. Ah well, at least she had the boy to sing with. But she could do it. Sylvanas knew she could.

She was pretty sure Jaina could do just about anything she set her mind to.

“Out of the fallen trees we sing, Sing like we're losing everything. Lost and without a place to go, Sing for myself, it's all I know.”

Jaina’s solid alto mixed well with Hatvelion’s trembling tenor. They were to begin the song alone, standing out amidst the silence that greeted them from both their own squadrons and the onlookers and family members that had come to greet them.

“Born to a brand new century, Sing for our sisters patiently. Born to a day that's just begun, Sing for our mothers and our sons.”

The other rangers returning from Thalasdiel began to join them, first with hums. Deep bass and trilling soprano alike from both squadrons, and everything in-between. A place of each voice, each part.

“We sing for the voices never heard, Sing for the lessons we've still not learned. Sing for the peace we've never won, Sing for the work that's still not done.”

Sylvanas watched the ease wash over Jaina’s face as the voices joined her and Hathvelion’s fully, coming to a roaring crescendo that echoed over the alabaster walls of the Retreat. She was once again what she so very much wanted to be. A part of a whole. A piece of a puzzle. A piece that Sylvanas hadn’t realized was so sorely needed to complete it, both for her military, and for her heart.

She couldn’t wait to come down to join her again.

“And if on our darkest days we cry, Sing 'til we put our fears aside. And if I feel myself begin to fold, Sing for myself, it's all I know. Sing for myself, it's all I know.”

The chorus of rangers died down, leaving Jaina and Hathvelion alone to sing the last line. The crowd left it to reverberate for just a moment before they erupted in another set of cheers. The ranger collapsed in again, embracing and celebrating. Jaina laughed as Hathvelion picked her up in a bear hug.

A hand on her elbow finally stirred Sylvanas from her musings as she watched the crowd below begin to mingle--cloaks of Ranger Blue and Farstrider Green and Priest White and Officer Teal mixing and melding with the clothes of the audience members and the ridiculous finery of the Ranger Lords in attendance. She lost Jaina in there, somewhere in a sea of pointed ears and glowing eyes and sharp features that she was now just that much harder to pick out of.

Lor’themar squeezed at her arm, drawing Sylvanas’ attention to him. “How about you go find that Ranger Proudmoore of yours and kiss her,” he suggested. “I think she deserves that much.”

Sylvanas found herself grateful for the reminder, and answered with a smile that came easily past a mask she felt lift from her face as though it were something physical. “I think she does,” she agreed.

#Sylvanas Windrunner #Jaina Proudmoore #sylvaina #fanfic #in good company #ty very much to those of you patiently waiting for this fic to finish #i know my haituses have been long and many

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unnatural-twenty · 1 year

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Here's a WIP of some tips for Dungeon Masters on how to begin and maintain a long form dnd (and ttrpg in general) campaign. This advice is intended for irl table sessions. I'll be updating this as I think of more stuff and there's some more point I'll elaborate more on later

Introduction

Hi, I'm Pat. I'm a dungeon master, and I like to think I'm a pretty good one. I've run a completed 2.5 year campaign in dnd 3.5 running a small group of 2-3 from level 1 to level 20 and beyond, and I'm currently running an ongoing 5 year campaign of 4-7 people in dnd 5e which (so far) has run from level 1 to level 13.

My players have remained consistently interested and invested in the game world, their characters, the npcs and overall plots of our games. They've both created and commissioned wonderful pieces of art for both the campaign in general and their characters, and I've done the same for them. They trust me to handle their stories with respect, challenge them and entertain them, as well as allow them the freedom to make strong and meaningful changes that permanently impact the world they play in. My current party are my closest and dearest friends, and the game we're running is something that, I consider my masterpiece. My Magnum Opus, my life's work. Is it perfect? Absolutely not, it's a chaotic mess. We've missed sessions, taken long haituses, and sometimes left the table feeling that an individual game might of been lacking. I've made errors in judgement while dm'ing and sometimes I've had to put to my foot down on my players, or mediate arguments. They've also taken the story on wild turns that I would never have seen coming! We've had players join for individual sessions or story arcs that last a few weeks or months before leaving again. The Party have been heroes and terrorists, the tools of fate and breakers of prophecy.

Not to brag but, I have the best party ever.

All of the above are basically my credentials for when I say 'hey, are you looking to start a long form campaign? here's some advice!'

We here a lot of advice in the online d&d community about specific builds for players or fun encounters for dms to run. But there is rarely any good advice on how to actually keep butt's in seats at your table and tell a great story.

The Advice

So here's a few things to keep in mind.

Spark.

The spark is simply the first idea that eventually blooms into the overall story. Something to inspire the events that will happen at the table. This can be anything from a single cool moment, or an item/s that you'd give the players, a place or person or situation or anything at all! This first idea is enough for you to want your players to interact with it. There really is no need to plan much further than this at this stage, but this first spark is vital! It doesn't even have to do with the first session, it can be something later down the story that you'd want the players to encounter for plot/fun/character reasons. Any good campaign comes from this spark.

Pick your Party.

So you have an idea for a story. Great! Now it's time to think about the people you want to share this idea with, your Players. Like I said earlier, we see a LOT of player advice about how to build characters or do 900 damage in a single run or ideal party composition (blah blah blah) but we rarely see any advice about WHO your players should be. If you genuinely want to run a long campaign that spans months or years, you need to make sure that the people at your table will be able to commit AND MOST IMPORTANTLY that you will all have fun together. Invite your friends, people that live nearby and you don't see moving anytime soon, invite people who seem interested and you think will get along. Invite people you've played with before who's presence you enjoy. Your game will live or die by these people, your story will be about them - so be discerning and honest with yourself about who you want to invite. Do not invite anyone you think is a buzzkill, do not invite people who have beef with each other, do not invite people who hate sitting down for extended period of times, and do not invite newly formed couples.

Additional clarification on this point: Sometimes couples at your tables can be dicey. Breakups between 2 players can KILL campaigns. One of them will probably leave the game, and resentment can build between you and the exiting player, even if you mean them no ill will. The exiting players absence might be keenly felt by the remaining players and the whole vibe might be ruined. However, longer and more serious relationships are less likely to suddenly and explosively end. In my current game I've had two people from the start, they were already dating for a long time when we began and they're now married.

So yes, the people you choose to play with will make or break your game, choose carefully. Which brings us to our next point -

Dont overfill your table.

For starting out I really would suggest limiting it to a maximum of 4 players + yourself as the DM. 5 players at an absolute stretch and never more than 5 to begin. You can add more people later as your skill with DMing improves and your players get more into a rhythm of sharing time and space with each other. But every player at a game is another wild element introduced into the world, another person to divide your attention among, another combatant in fights, another inventory to distribute loot into. Each player added to a game exponentially increases your workload as a Game Master - so don't overdo it if you're just starting out.

Characters

You've got an idea, you have interested and interesting people to play with. It's time to build characters. These characters are going to be ones you'll be spending a LOT of time with and a LOT of time thinking about. Your players come up with an idea or concept, and you help them stat them out and suggest people/places/locations/deities that you already know in your head exist to fill in any blanks or question marks in their characters story. Allow your players creative control over who their characters are, what gods they worship and what lands they hail from and try AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE to fold what they give you into the existing world in your mind. Giving your players this level of input over not only their own characters but some of the worldbuilding of the campaign will really help them start thinking of the campaign of theirs as well as yours. This investment is what leads to commitment and hey, its free worldbuilding. That being said, if a player tells you "This is Greg, he's a Gnome thief. He lived in the forest" End of character backstory - that's fine too! Not every character is gonna have nor should have a 5 page backstory. Some characters find themselves during play, maybe more about who they are and what they want and who they come from will develop naturally along the way. And these people have often been my favorite to play with.

My REAL tip is here though. Tell your players in no uncertain terms that no matter what character they come up with they have to 1) Be able and willing to work with strangers and 2) Be able and willing to do jobs for money. I tell them that 'This is a cooperative game, your starting point is level 1 adventurers who've left their homes and who will be working TOGETHER to solve difficult problems for loot and treasure and money, you can't play an antisocial wierdo whos going to immediately dick over the other players. thats not fun and we're all here to have fun together.' Sidenote, I VASTLY prefer and reccomend traditional pencil and paper character sheets. They're discreet, personal and don't take up space. If you're at a table and all your players and you all have your laptops out, it's a logistical nightmare. Table space can be limited, plugs can be limited, you don't know if your players are distracted on social media. Same goes with phone and app based character sheets to a lesser extent. Yes, you will have to replace the original character sheet eventually as it gets rubbed out and filled in as the game progresses. This is a small price to pay for more space on the table to put snacks, drinks, maps and minis, and avoid excess screen time and distraction....

That being said if a player is playing a spellcaster I HIGHLY reccomend That they download a Spell App on their phone to pull up spell descriptions and reference what their spells actually do. I can't stress how much time and bullshit this saves. Help them find one they like and maybe install it yourself, that way you can pull up this info on your phone at a moments notice. You can either track spell slots in app or on paper, dealers choice.

TBC

Individual and joint session 0's / tutorials

planning the first game JUST DO IT

Actions have Consequences

Be Fair

it's not about you

kill your darlings

you are not smarter than your players.

you are not smarter than your players because you know more about the world than they do

balance wins and losses

downtime

loot

Flagged Danger versus Unflagged Danger

Combat and common problems with it

Framing Expectations

Player Versus Player

So, your Players did something so unexpected you could do nothing but roll with it and now you're half a planet away from the plot.

Being a player makes you a better dm

One shots

Mini sessions and solo sessions

Other game systems

How to handle dm/gm burnout

Idea Piracy, it's fun easy and free

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, THIS IS A GAME, HAVE FUN

#pat talks #reference #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg #long post #dm advice #gm advice #dungeon master advice #game master advice #d&d #dnd #whoever blazes this gets their shit slonked down sloppy style

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