WoD Arc – Chapter 1

Araatris: The man known only as Morthis sits in the dirt of the freshly-turned field, a wooden pipe between his teeth. His hawkish gaze watches the castle.
Rhoelyn: He tugs on a long ear thoughtfully. “Summon them.” Morthis looks over his shoulder at Verune. “They’re the best options we have for this.”
Araatris: The druid sighs, leaning against a recently replaced fence post. “They’re not going to be happy to answer, right now. Yami’s birthday is soon.”
Rhoelyn: “I know. I regret the necessity.” He turns his gaze back to the castle. “Do you have a better idea? We’re short on resources as it is right now.”
Araatris: “No,” the other man admits, brushing a stray purple hair out of his face. “They’re the best choice. I agree. But prepare for an ear full.”
Rhoelyn: Morthis snorts, “I’ll take it dutifully. I can give them some extra time off after this and send the child a gift. What do you think he’d like?”
Araatris: Chuckling, Verune straightens from the post. “Yami has recently discovered a series of exaggerated books of Harrison Jones’ exploits.”
Rhoelyn: He nods and grins. “Those would be perfect for a boy his age.” Morthis pushes to his feet. “Shall we head back? There’s plenty of paperwork.”
Araatris: “Allow me to aide you for a while, old friend. We’ll discover the surface of your desk, yet,” says the other nightelf with a wry twist of his lips.
Rhoelyn: Morthis lets out a long, drawn out sigh. “I’m fairly certain that my desk is a myth after all these years, but I would appreciate the help.”
Araatris: The two trudge over the pasture beyond the field, their boots quiet against ground that’s moist from the recent rains. Pipe smoke curls above them.
Rhoelyn: They head to a small building and duck inside. “Have they taken over Yami’s studies? He seems content to restrict himself to druid forms for now.”
Araatris: Verune nods, stepping around a rack of ink jars. “For the most part. He’s still attached to using a wolf form. Rhese is extremely conflicted about it.”
Rhoelyn: “I’m sure that’s difficult for Nysse as well. It’s no surprise considering her affinity to them.” Morthis picks up a few papers from a tray.
Araatris: The druid waits patiently while he glances through them, commenting, “It is a shame that he must be limited for the sake of acceptance.”
Rhoelyn: Morthis pauses and looks up from the last sheet. “Yes, I know. I approve of any form he decides to take personally. I know it’s not the same.”
Araatris: As he returns some and tucks the rest under his arm, Verune snorts. “You also can’t help yourself: you’re excited at the power of a formless asset.”
Rhoelyn: Amused, Morthis counters, “Just as you’re excited to find the limits of his abilities.” The blue-haired night elf heads for his desk.
Araatris: The other man smiles and tilts his head, grabbing a pile of reports before settling into the chair at the desk’s front. “Touche. He’s fascinating.”
Rhoelyn: “He is, but definitely a child. I’ll be interested to see how he grows. After we’re done here, do you want to send the message?” Morthis grimaces.
Araatris: “Very well.” The two men settle in for a few long minutes, reading through files before Verune asks, “You have a mage in Hyjal? Can he portal them?”
Rhoelyn: Morthis leans back in his chair. “Yes, I do believe that Thelir could assist.” He opens a drawer full of labeled hearthstones and plucks one out.
Araatris: The druid brushes a hand down his low, purple braid, perusing more reports and laying them in purposeful piles as his companion speaks in the stone.
Rhoelyn: After a moment, Morthis puts the stone back in the drawer. “He’ll fetch them and bring them here in the evening. I told him after breakfast.”
Araatris: “Thank you. That should soften our conversation a bit.” The blue-haired night elf gives him a flat-eyed stare as he returns to reading reports.
Rhoelyn: Morthis grumbles, “She’s even worse when she’s hungry. I’m not going to chance it.” He puts a signature on a report and sets it aside.
Araatris: After setting another report on its pile, Verune rests back, looking up at the ceiling. “What do you make of the reports from the Dark Portal?”
Rhoelyn: The blue-haired elf chews on the mouthpiece of his pipe. He frowns and pulls out the pipe. “They’re troublesome. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Araatris: “Agreed.” Verune frowns at a particularly large spider in the rafters. “The reports seem confused, but Max and Bairem are not prone to confusion.”
Rhoelyn: Morthis nods. “You’re right. That’s why I think that we need to check it out. We need another set of eyes.” He pushes a paper at the druid.
Araatris: The druid’s nose wrinkles before he even picks up the dossier. “You want -her- involved?” He sighs and starts a careful review of the file.
Rhoelyn: “Do you think it’s a bad idea? I think she’d be a good fit for it.” The roguish elf strokes his goatee. “Or are you still holding a grudge?”
Araatris: Verune sniffs and looks at his friend with haughty disdain. “I do not hold grudges, Morthis.” The other elf raises a brow, his stare flat, again.
Rhoelyn: Morthis crosses his arms. “Remind me again what she replaced that vial with, Verune. And how much of your experiment was left afterwards.”
Araatris: His friend growls and lifts his head only to lean forward and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Burnwine. That was a month’s work gone!”
Rhoelyn: Slapping his hand on the desk, Morthis grins. “There we have it. Have no fear, friend. I have no intention of her getting near your work this time.”
Araatris: “Very well.” Verune sighs. “Let Rylana go investigate the Dark Portal. She can lay the groundwork for Rhese and Nysse’s mission on the other side.”
Rhoelyn: Morthis nods. “We’ll need it. She won’t be too far ahead of them. I’ll reach out later tonight.” He sighs and looks at the papers in front of him.
Araatris: The other elf picks up one of the stacks of paper he’s made and sets them on top of the pile Morthis stares at. The spymaster only sighs deeper.
Rhoelyn: Verune raises an eyebrow. “Staring at them won’t make them go away. We can knock most of this out if we focus.” Morthis picks up a report.
Araatris: Tapping a long finger on another, medium-sized pile he’s made, the druid smirks. “You may be heartened to know these are to foist off on Lokker.”
Rhoelyn: The other man laughs. “It does help. I wouldn’t know what to do with those.” Morthis bunkers down and starts skimming the papers with purpose.
Araatris: Chuckling, Verune picks up another report and settles in as well. The two of them work in a silent camaraderie that has its roots in centuries past.
Rhoelyn: It’s midevening when the huntress’ voice carries outside. “I refuse! We agreed to the time off. I’m not going to break my promises to my son!”
Araatris: Rhese adds his voice to hers, holding the hearthstone in his fist. “I can’t believe you’re even asking, Verune. You know it’s Yami’s birthday.”
Rhoelyn: Verune sighs and sounds sympathetic. “I know. We wouldn’t ask if we had anyone else to send. You are our best options. Please rethink it.”
Araatris: The younger druid looks at his mate’s livid expression and winces. “You’re going to have to explain why it’s so worth changing his bi-” “Rhese!”
Rhoelyn: Nysse spins to face him. “Silverwing!” She pokes his chest with each word. “We are not changing our son’s birthday because it’s inconvenient!”
Araatris: Rubbing at his chest, he takes a couple of steps back. “That’s not what I’m suggesting at all, my lovely. But shouldn’t we understand the stakes?”
Rhoelyn: She glares. “What is so important that it can’t wait two weeks? Because someone had better be in danger if we do this.” Nysse narrows her eyes.
Araatris: Verune’s voice comes clearly through the hearthstone’s magic. “Someone is in danger. We’ve intercepted intel about an assassination attempt.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress stops, stunned. “Wait. Really? Who are they planning to assassinate?” The elder druid’s voice is somber. “They’re after Morthis.”
Araatris: Rhese and Nysse blink at each other, quite a lot of the wind taken out of their sails, suddenly. The druid says, “And we don’t exactly know who?”
Rhoelyn: “No, but we suspect they’re through the Dark Portal on Draenor. We think they’re trying to lay low until it’s time to strike,” Verune explains.
Araatris: Rhese sighs, watching Nysse’s expression. “That’s not much to go on, poppa bear. What else do we have in the way of leads? Affiliation?”
Rhoelyn: The elder druid hesitates, “Well… based on the initial report from Rylana we think it’s a for-hire assassin, but our reports are conflicting.”
Rhoelyn: “Some suggest that Morthis is dead, injured, or that the strike is yet to come… all from within the same team at different times.”
Araatris: The young druid’s brows draw together in confusion. Nysse looks at him and shrugs. “Morthis isn’t there with you? I thought he was in Stormwind.”
Rhoelyn: Sighing, Verune grumbles, “He is! That’s why none of this makes any sense. It’s part of why we’re desperate enough to call in for your help.”
Araatris: Rhese frowns, his gaze on his mate. “… alright, Verune. Give us some time to figure this out. I’ll contact you again shortly.” He taps the stone.
Rhoelyn: Nysse stares silently at the ground. Rhese pulls her into his arms. “A copper for your thoughts, lovely.” “I don’t want to disappoint Yami.”
Araatris: He kisses her hair. “Nor do I. Rhoelyn can still have the party without us. And maybe we three can celebrate quickly before we go.”
Rhoelyn: “If we could celebrate tonight and head out when he heads to bed… I’d feel better.” Nysse hugs him. “What do you think? I know it’s urgent, but…”
Araatris: The druid holds her tight. “If it’s Morthis’ life on the line, Nysse, we have to. Our life is what it is thanks in part to him and his influence.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse sighs, “I know Yami will understand. I still hate it, but I know you’re right.” She peers up at Rhese. “We should go right after lunch.”
Araatris: He smiles and leans down to kiss her. “I love you. I’ll get our boy and explain things to him. Why don’t you prepare something nice to eat?”
Rhoelyn: “I love you, too.” She grins fondly. “I might bake sweets if I have time.” Nysse steps away, but pauses, “Oh! Don’t forget to check with Rhoe.”
Araatris: “As if she’d say ‘no’.” Rhese chuckles, releasing her to head for the cozy house’s door. “I’ll bring Yami with me. We’ll ask her to be polite.”
Rhoelyn: Outside in the field, Yami yips as a wolf pup nips his tail. He twists and tackles her with a wolfish grin. She wags her tail happily, wuffing.
Araatris: “Dalah’alei!” Rhese calls, grinning. “If you’re done teaching the pups to be rascals, I’d like to talk to you.” He strides through the tall grass.
Rhoelyn: Yami shifts to a young night elven boy of around seven, a sturdy four and half feet tall. He scoops up the pup and meets Rhese. “An’da!”
Araatris: The druid kneels and hugs his boy, kissing his temple. “Hello, Yami. Were you having fun playing with the pups?” The child grins. “Yep!”
Rhoelyn: The boy presents the pup. “I was teaching Minala to sneak like when we hunt.” Rhese chuckles as the pup wiggles and escapes Yami’s arms.
Araatris: “You’re a very good wolf trainer, like min’da.” The boy giggles, squirming. “You always tell me that, an’da, ‘speshully if what’s next is bad news.”
Rhoelyn: Rhese sighs. “You’re sharp, but not wrong.” He brushes the boy’s hair back. “Your min’da and I have been called in for a very important mission.”
Araatris: With a maturity beyond his apparent age, the child frowns. “It must be ‘portent to call at my birthday.” But still he sighs, lip jutting out.
Rhoelyn: The druid nods and hugs him again. “We’re disappointed, but someone we care about is in danger. We’re very sorry, Yami, but we need to help them.”
Araatris: Blinking at him with dark eyes, the voidling stills. “An’neil Morthis could die?” Rhese nods. “We’d never miss your birthday for less.”
Rhoelyn: Yami wraps his arms around Rhese’s neck. “Then an’da has to, but… I’ll miss you.” He rests his head on his father’s shoulder, clinging.
Araatris: The druid cups his big hand around the back of the boy’s silver hair, cradling him close. “We’ll miss you too, little light. We always do.”
Rhoelyn: The boy lingers until Rhese grins and lifts him into his arms. “We’ll need you to watch over min’nu while we’re gone. Can you do that for us?”
Araatris: “Yep!” Yami grins and then giggles when Rhese tips him over his shoulder, carrying him dangled upside-down as he walks toward the lake.
Rhoelyn: Rhese’s long strides take him quickly across the way. “We’ll ask Rhoe to still have your party, but you’ll have to be an extra good boy for her.”
Araatris: Yami scoffs, kicking his little leather boots in the air. “An’da, I’m always a good boy. I’m the very best boy!” The druid chuckles. “You are.”
Rhoelyn: “Rhoe!” He calls out to his sister who raises her head from a garden. The priestess stands and smiles at them. “Good evening, Rhese. Yami.”
Araatris: The elf gives his twin a kiss on the cheek before turning around so that she can laughingly claim one from Yami. “Are you two causing trouble?”
Rhoelyn: Rhese chuckles. “You’re looking at your well behaved boys. We’d never cause trouble, but we do have a favor to ask.” He sets Yami on his feet.
Araatris: The voidling boy sidles up to his aunt, wrapping his arms around her waist as she lovingly brushes her fingers through his hair. Rhese explains.
Rhoelyn: Rhoelyn smiles, but her eyes narrow in worry. “Of course. We’ll have a lovely birthday. Then we’ll have another celebration when you return.”
Araatris: The druid smiles. “And one before we go? Alei, you are going to be tired of this birthday by the time it’s all done!” Rhoe and Yami giggle.
Rhoelyn: “It’ll give us something to plan for. Do you need any help at home or do you wish to stop by before you leave?” Rhoelyn asks as Yami peers up.
Araatris: “Come over in an hour,” Rhese says. “Nysse is going to make something nice. And just perhaps,” he says with a wink, “we’ll give an early present.”
Rhoelyn: Yami gasps, “Really?!” He bounces over to Rhese looking up hopefully. Rhoelyn giggles behind her hand as Rhese nods. “If your mother agrees.”
Araatris: “Cuz min’da’s the master,” he says seriously. His father laughs. “Yes. Your mother is the master. Thank you for reminding me, little scamp.”
Rhoelyn: Rhoelyn’s eyes shine with mirth. “I’ll finish up here and see you all shortly.” The boy smiles. “Can we race home, an’da?” Yami bounces.
Araatris: “Oh, I supp- hey!” Rhese chuckles and glances a goodbye at his sister as Yami immediately shifts to a little pup and rushes off. He follows.
Rhoelyn: Rhese’s longer legs overtake Yami closer to home. Yami skids just inside the door as the feline druid leaps and pins him to the floor.
Araatris: The little wolf yipping as his feline father licks him with a rough tongue brings Nysse from the other room. She leans against the doorway, laughing.
Rhoelyn: “I can’t tell who’s winning.” She glances over her shoulder before stepping close to them and kissing each furry head. “Wash up for lunch, boys.”
Araatris: Rhese releases the boy with one last lick from belly to chin, and together they shift back and head off to get ready for an improvised celebration.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *