Post by kiraleen on Jun 30, 2011 12:44:44 GMT -5
“Meia! Meia!”
The shouts merged with the doorbell of Heartjoy’s Confections. Meia looked up from her scroll. Farion stared at her wild-eyed, frantic, dripping wet.
“You have to help him! Please!”
“Help who?” Meia set the scroll down on main display case, hopped off her stool and trotted over to him. She had a suspicion, but suspicions weren’t always right.
“My father. I saw – “ Farion ran his hand through his hair, spraying droplets. “ I had another vision. They’re going to k –“
Meia held her finger to his mouth. Suspicion confirmed. “Come with me, “ she said, grabbing his free hand. The young mage smelled faintly of fish, more strongly of lake water. Obviously he’d put her revelations to the test. She pulled him past the main counter into the work area, toward the back of the shop. “Bring me towels from the necessary, please, “ she told one of the staff. Domme dropped her inventory sheet onto the nearest sack of sugar and fixed them with a hawk’s-gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“Priest business,” Meia replied shortly. It wouldn’t keep her sister’s curiosity at bay long, but hopefully long enough. She opened the office door, prepared to beg, bribe or lie for her parents to vacate it, and was relieved to find she didn’t need to. Hurrah for breakfasts in bed.
“You can save him, can’t you? You – the Outriders – “
The door opened again. Meia whirled to confront the employee with his arms full of fluffy red, gold and brown towels. “Thank you,” she said, scooping them up with one hand and closing the door on him with the other. She flipped the lock and turned back to Farion.
“Calm down. Dry off.” She handed him a towel, flung another over his head. “And start from the beginning.”
“… two days, maybe three, if that shan’do’s correct, “ Farion said fretfully. Despite his tone, he was visibly calmer, if less dressed. Meia had politely turned her back to preserve his dignity while he stripped out of his soaking clothes, dried off, and recounted his vision. Wrapped in the remainder of the towels for a semblance of modesty, Farion paced. “If only I could be sure!”
“Which do you feel is more correct?”
“Two,” Farion replied at once. He shook his head. “Irrational. What do feelings matter?”
“In this instance, quite a bit. You’re dealing with a thing of the spirit, not your usual magic.”
Farion grimaced, conceding the point. “I know it’s dangerous – horribly dangerous -- and you don’t owe me any favors. But I can pay. Anything. Anything you ask. Will you help? ”
“That’s the Field Marshal’s decision to make. And if she agrees I doubt she’d ask for payment.” Or that either Moonweaver would let her. Not that she would, either, if Farion was a friend.
“You’ll ask?”
“You should ask her yourself.”
“How? She’s not here!”
Meia smiled faintly. “Then we’ll have to find out where she is, eh?” She held up a hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease. I can contact her, and see if she wants to meet you here in Silvermoon or have you brought to her. It will take a little time, though.”
“But my father – “ Farion sighed, closing his eyes. He clasped his elbows. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. I need to fetch my guild stone. Why don’t you go change? Meet me in the Court of the Sun. Same bench.”
In less than a half-hour Farion was sitting next to Meia in Thunder Bluff. The Field Marshal had found them pretending to watch the participants in the Midsummer fire-games. After a stroll to the festival vendors where they bumped into Efnesien (what a pleasant surprise!) and a dance around the fire-pole in which Kiraleen insisted they join, she had led them in a leisurely retreat from the crowd to an empty stair landing and created a portal to the tauren city. They didn’t emerge in the Pool of Vision’s caves, but the guild-tent proper. Naunet rocked back on her plated heels, one hand gripping her sword pommel. Aneran slouched against the guild’s ‘totem pole’, arms folded, his putative carving knife displayed in a not-at-all casual gesture.
“Hate when you do that, Kira,” Naunet grumbled.
“Tell me about it,” Aneran murmured.
Farion looked around in astonishment. “How did you --?”
“I can show you later, if you wish. “ Kiraleen clasped her hands in front of her Midsummer dress. “But now, tell me about your father, please.”
Farion recounted his vision again, in more detail this time. Meia watched Kiraleen pace slowly as he finished. “Will you help, Field Marshal? I … I don’t know where else to turn.”
Kiraleen studied him. “From the description of your father’s garb – I’ve seen the same on human and dwarven lay-clergy -- and the ease with which he carried himself, I’d speculate he’s in Alliance territory,” Kiraleen said at last. "Am I correct?"
"I thought your parents were dead?" Efnesien burst in.
Farion shrugged, shamefaced, "Missing, really. Eventually, everyone believed they were dead. Including me." He sighed, continuing, "Turns out that my father had been badly injured. Highlord Fordring was still in exile and had found him, nursed him back to some semblence of health, and sent him to the Argent Dawn."
"And you knew all this time!? Why didn't you tell me?"
Meia blinked. Farion replied reluctantly. "Because, my father's not a blood elf."
"Then what is he?" demanded Aneran. Farion hedged.
“There’s quel’dorei still among the Alliance.” Efnesien gave Farion a surprisingly sympathetic look. “Not everyone sided with Kael’thas, remember. Given there’s even fewer of them than us, Stormwind is likely the safest place for them to live. Can you narrow down your father’s location? The Alliance has a lot of territory.”
“I think I can offer a possibility,” Kiraleen said slowly. “Like you said, Stormwind is the safest place for high elves. Reesee mentioned the repairs from Deathwing’s attack had been halted for a time. If Farion’s ruins are those destroyed buildings….”
Meia stirred. “There’s a simpler way to find out than guessing. Fledgling.” She turned to Farion. “Would you be willing to try for a more detailed vision? Under my supervision?” Farion nodded, and she patted his hand. “We’ll try when you’re more rested.” And less frantic.
Kiraleen looked to Naunet, then Efnesien. “A rescue attempt of this kind is extremely risky.”
“Farion’s my friend, “ Efnesien said. “And despite the risk, this is feasible. It’d be difficult, not impossible.”
“And what’s a little risk, anyway?” Naunet flashed a toothy, jaunty grin. “This is the kind of work the Outriders were created for.”
Kiraleen nodded thoughtfully. “Go in, grab him, get out…”
“Uh-uh!” Naunet stabbed a bony finger at Kiraleen. “You’re not doin’ this alone!”
“I didn’t say I was.”
Naunet smirked. “Sure ya weren’t. So, you to do the magic, me to bash any heads that need it – “ She fixed her glowing gaze on Meia. “ – you, to keep any ouchies to a minimum.”
Meia tossed her a salute. “Yes, Captain!” Privately she was relieved and worried in equal measure. Naunet was giving her a chance to redeem herself, and she was glad for that. She just wished it was a mission with less chance of going horribly wrong.
Efnesien’s brows knitted in a frown. “I want to go as well.” Aneran stepped away from the totem pole. “So do I.”
Kiraleen steepled her fingers in front of her face, looking at them both for a long moment, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I need you two to be part of the warlock summoning circle if something goes wrong.” Efnesien frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it with a wry nod.
“Your father’s study? Just like old times?”
Kiraleen smiled at him gratefully. Meia made a mental note to find out just what these ‘old times’ were.
“Why am I always stuck mucking around with the magic?” Aneran grumbled. Efnesien clapped him on the shoulder.
“Cheer up, Aneran. You’ll spend the time kicking your heels on your Field Marshal’s father’s desk while I read and Nesien beats you at chess.” Aneran did not look consoled. Efnesien failed to notice. “Me, Nesien…who else can we enlist for this retrieval back-up?”
Naunet huffed. “I’d say Twinflame, but she’s off helping Norie with her joustin’ and slaughtering penguins. “ The Forsaken’s expression turned distinctly uncomfortable. “’Sides, I’m not sure this secret sneaky stuff is the kinda thing Twin’d be good at. You know?”
Everyone but Farion nodded. Meia caught a brief glimpse of relief in the Field Marshal’s eyes. “Tampa?” she suggested.
“Tampa's running Darnell and Qa’chena through some scouting exercises and not due back for another couple days. Agoris is out in Durotar on her own exercises, and June is… “ Kiraleen gestured vaguely. “Out there somewhere doing ‘diggies’. If either Agoris or June show up or contact us in a day or so, fine. In the meantime, I’ll ask Basile to be the third.”
“Why not call your people back?” Farion leaned forward, catching Kiraleen’s eye.
“We’re watched,” she said matter-of-factly. “We always have been, but under Garrosh, it’s grown more … intense. We’ve already done enough today to attract attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if rumors that we’re aiming to recruit you spring up shortly. I’d rather play off that than speculation that we’re engaging in supposed treason. Recalling Tampa or the others, combined with your visit to Meia, would be enough to make that mushroom grow.”
Never mind, Meia thought, that technically we are committing treason. Not that she cared. Hellscream’s contempt for blood elves was blatant, and despite all the animosity and politicking between the two branches of elves, the quel’dorei were still kin in her eyes.
“I’ll help with the summoning circle.” Farion folded his arms. “I’d go crazy sitting here or in Undercity or wherever else, not knowing. And that way, Aneran can go. Four people aren’t that much more obvious than three, yes?”
Aneran shot him a look of mingled surprise and gratitude. “I can hide better than any of you,” he said as Naunet opened her mouth, probably to object. “And, I’m better at spotting others lurking in the shadows.”
Naunet tipped her head with a grunt, conceding. “This is the first time I’ve heard of this Basile person.” Naunet scratched her chin. “She trustworthy?”
“Very. She manages my parents’ house, and the meadery. She’s helped with warlock summons before. Being asked won’t be suspicious to her, or even a surprise.”
“All righty. Good enough fer me.”
Aneran sighed. “I’m glad everything’s settled, then.”
“Almost settled.” Efnesien stretched, cracking his back. “There’s still the exact timing and location to be determined. Meia, I know you and Farion are going to try more visions, but we should still try more mundane means, especially if you can prove he is somewhere in Stormwind. There has to be maps of Stormwind, it’s just a matter of getting our hands on them. Right now, though, I think we should take a small break. I skipped lunch and I’m hungry.”
Meia grinned. “I bought s’mores in Silvermoon.”
Farion rose to his feet and clasped Kiraleen’s hand between his. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
Kiraleen smiled. “You’re welcome.”
The shouts merged with the doorbell of Heartjoy’s Confections. Meia looked up from her scroll. Farion stared at her wild-eyed, frantic, dripping wet.
“You have to help him! Please!”
“Help who?” Meia set the scroll down on main display case, hopped off her stool and trotted over to him. She had a suspicion, but suspicions weren’t always right.
“My father. I saw – “ Farion ran his hand through his hair, spraying droplets. “ I had another vision. They’re going to k –“
Meia held her finger to his mouth. Suspicion confirmed. “Come with me, “ she said, grabbing his free hand. The young mage smelled faintly of fish, more strongly of lake water. Obviously he’d put her revelations to the test. She pulled him past the main counter into the work area, toward the back of the shop. “Bring me towels from the necessary, please, “ she told one of the staff. Domme dropped her inventory sheet onto the nearest sack of sugar and fixed them with a hawk’s-gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“Priest business,” Meia replied shortly. It wouldn’t keep her sister’s curiosity at bay long, but hopefully long enough. She opened the office door, prepared to beg, bribe or lie for her parents to vacate it, and was relieved to find she didn’t need to. Hurrah for breakfasts in bed.
“You can save him, can’t you? You – the Outriders – “
The door opened again. Meia whirled to confront the employee with his arms full of fluffy red, gold and brown towels. “Thank you,” she said, scooping them up with one hand and closing the door on him with the other. She flipped the lock and turned back to Farion.
“Calm down. Dry off.” She handed him a towel, flung another over his head. “And start from the beginning.”
“… two days, maybe three, if that shan’do’s correct, “ Farion said fretfully. Despite his tone, he was visibly calmer, if less dressed. Meia had politely turned her back to preserve his dignity while he stripped out of his soaking clothes, dried off, and recounted his vision. Wrapped in the remainder of the towels for a semblance of modesty, Farion paced. “If only I could be sure!”
“Which do you feel is more correct?”
“Two,” Farion replied at once. He shook his head. “Irrational. What do feelings matter?”
“In this instance, quite a bit. You’re dealing with a thing of the spirit, not your usual magic.”
Farion grimaced, conceding the point. “I know it’s dangerous – horribly dangerous -- and you don’t owe me any favors. But I can pay. Anything. Anything you ask. Will you help? ”
“That’s the Field Marshal’s decision to make. And if she agrees I doubt she’d ask for payment.” Or that either Moonweaver would let her. Not that she would, either, if Farion was a friend.
“You’ll ask?”
“You should ask her yourself.”
“How? She’s not here!”
Meia smiled faintly. “Then we’ll have to find out where she is, eh?” She held up a hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease. I can contact her, and see if she wants to meet you here in Silvermoon or have you brought to her. It will take a little time, though.”
“But my father – “ Farion sighed, closing his eyes. He clasped his elbows. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. I need to fetch my guild stone. Why don’t you go change? Meet me in the Court of the Sun. Same bench.”
In less than a half-hour Farion was sitting next to Meia in Thunder Bluff. The Field Marshal had found them pretending to watch the participants in the Midsummer fire-games. After a stroll to the festival vendors where they bumped into Efnesien (what a pleasant surprise!) and a dance around the fire-pole in which Kiraleen insisted they join, she had led them in a leisurely retreat from the crowd to an empty stair landing and created a portal to the tauren city. They didn’t emerge in the Pool of Vision’s caves, but the guild-tent proper. Naunet rocked back on her plated heels, one hand gripping her sword pommel. Aneran slouched against the guild’s ‘totem pole’, arms folded, his putative carving knife displayed in a not-at-all casual gesture.
“Hate when you do that, Kira,” Naunet grumbled.
“Tell me about it,” Aneran murmured.
Farion looked around in astonishment. “How did you --?”
“I can show you later, if you wish. “ Kiraleen clasped her hands in front of her Midsummer dress. “But now, tell me about your father, please.”
Farion recounted his vision again, in more detail this time. Meia watched Kiraleen pace slowly as he finished. “Will you help, Field Marshal? I … I don’t know where else to turn.”
Kiraleen studied him. “From the description of your father’s garb – I’ve seen the same on human and dwarven lay-clergy -- and the ease with which he carried himself, I’d speculate he’s in Alliance territory,” Kiraleen said at last. "Am I correct?"
"I thought your parents were dead?" Efnesien burst in.
Farion shrugged, shamefaced, "Missing, really. Eventually, everyone believed they were dead. Including me." He sighed, continuing, "Turns out that my father had been badly injured. Highlord Fordring was still in exile and had found him, nursed him back to some semblence of health, and sent him to the Argent Dawn."
"And you knew all this time!? Why didn't you tell me?"
Meia blinked. Farion replied reluctantly. "Because, my father's not a blood elf."
"Then what is he?" demanded Aneran. Farion hedged.
“There’s quel’dorei still among the Alliance.” Efnesien gave Farion a surprisingly sympathetic look. “Not everyone sided with Kael’thas, remember. Given there’s even fewer of them than us, Stormwind is likely the safest place for them to live. Can you narrow down your father’s location? The Alliance has a lot of territory.”
“I think I can offer a possibility,” Kiraleen said slowly. “Like you said, Stormwind is the safest place for high elves. Reesee mentioned the repairs from Deathwing’s attack had been halted for a time. If Farion’s ruins are those destroyed buildings….”
Meia stirred. “There’s a simpler way to find out than guessing. Fledgling.” She turned to Farion. “Would you be willing to try for a more detailed vision? Under my supervision?” Farion nodded, and she patted his hand. “We’ll try when you’re more rested.” And less frantic.
Kiraleen looked to Naunet, then Efnesien. “A rescue attempt of this kind is extremely risky.”
“Farion’s my friend, “ Efnesien said. “And despite the risk, this is feasible. It’d be difficult, not impossible.”
“And what’s a little risk, anyway?” Naunet flashed a toothy, jaunty grin. “This is the kind of work the Outriders were created for.”
Kiraleen nodded thoughtfully. “Go in, grab him, get out…”
“Uh-uh!” Naunet stabbed a bony finger at Kiraleen. “You’re not doin’ this alone!”
“I didn’t say I was.”
Naunet smirked. “Sure ya weren’t. So, you to do the magic, me to bash any heads that need it – “ She fixed her glowing gaze on Meia. “ – you, to keep any ouchies to a minimum.”
Meia tossed her a salute. “Yes, Captain!” Privately she was relieved and worried in equal measure. Naunet was giving her a chance to redeem herself, and she was glad for that. She just wished it was a mission with less chance of going horribly wrong.
Efnesien’s brows knitted in a frown. “I want to go as well.” Aneran stepped away from the totem pole. “So do I.”
Kiraleen steepled her fingers in front of her face, looking at them both for a long moment, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I need you two to be part of the warlock summoning circle if something goes wrong.” Efnesien frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it with a wry nod.
“Your father’s study? Just like old times?”
Kiraleen smiled at him gratefully. Meia made a mental note to find out just what these ‘old times’ were.
“Why am I always stuck mucking around with the magic?” Aneran grumbled. Efnesien clapped him on the shoulder.
“Cheer up, Aneran. You’ll spend the time kicking your heels on your Field Marshal’s father’s desk while I read and Nesien beats you at chess.” Aneran did not look consoled. Efnesien failed to notice. “Me, Nesien…who else can we enlist for this retrieval back-up?”
Naunet huffed. “I’d say Twinflame, but she’s off helping Norie with her joustin’ and slaughtering penguins. “ The Forsaken’s expression turned distinctly uncomfortable. “’Sides, I’m not sure this secret sneaky stuff is the kinda thing Twin’d be good at. You know?”
Everyone but Farion nodded. Meia caught a brief glimpse of relief in the Field Marshal’s eyes. “Tampa?” she suggested.
“Tampa's running Darnell and Qa’chena through some scouting exercises and not due back for another couple days. Agoris is out in Durotar on her own exercises, and June is… “ Kiraleen gestured vaguely. “Out there somewhere doing ‘diggies’. If either Agoris or June show up or contact us in a day or so, fine. In the meantime, I’ll ask Basile to be the third.”
“Why not call your people back?” Farion leaned forward, catching Kiraleen’s eye.
“We’re watched,” she said matter-of-factly. “We always have been, but under Garrosh, it’s grown more … intense. We’ve already done enough today to attract attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if rumors that we’re aiming to recruit you spring up shortly. I’d rather play off that than speculation that we’re engaging in supposed treason. Recalling Tampa or the others, combined with your visit to Meia, would be enough to make that mushroom grow.”
Never mind, Meia thought, that technically we are committing treason. Not that she cared. Hellscream’s contempt for blood elves was blatant, and despite all the animosity and politicking between the two branches of elves, the quel’dorei were still kin in her eyes.
“I’ll help with the summoning circle.” Farion folded his arms. “I’d go crazy sitting here or in Undercity or wherever else, not knowing. And that way, Aneran can go. Four people aren’t that much more obvious than three, yes?”
Aneran shot him a look of mingled surprise and gratitude. “I can hide better than any of you,” he said as Naunet opened her mouth, probably to object. “And, I’m better at spotting others lurking in the shadows.”
Naunet tipped her head with a grunt, conceding. “This is the first time I’ve heard of this Basile person.” Naunet scratched her chin. “She trustworthy?”
“Very. She manages my parents’ house, and the meadery. She’s helped with warlock summons before. Being asked won’t be suspicious to her, or even a surprise.”
“All righty. Good enough fer me.”
Aneran sighed. “I’m glad everything’s settled, then.”
“Almost settled.” Efnesien stretched, cracking his back. “There’s still the exact timing and location to be determined. Meia, I know you and Farion are going to try more visions, but we should still try more mundane means, especially if you can prove he is somewhere in Stormwind. There has to be maps of Stormwind, it’s just a matter of getting our hands on them. Right now, though, I think we should take a small break. I skipped lunch and I’m hungry.”
Meia grinned. “I bought s’mores in Silvermoon.”
Farion rose to his feet and clasped Kiraleen’s hand between his. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
Kiraleen smiled. “You’re welcome.”