Araatris: “Really, Nyssera.” Faye smiles and pulls yet another crate from the pile, passing it to Nysse. “It’s been a wonder to have your help. And Vorok’s.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress smiles and stacks the crate on the large cart. “Of course. I’m no stranger to hard work.” A dwarf soldier hands her another box.
Araatris: After she checks a few things from her list and directs a pair of soldiers lugging a heavy pot, the slave says, “The commander will be pleased.”
Rhoelyn: The soldiers slide the pot onto the cart. Nysse wipes the sweat from her brow and hops down. “Are we ahead of schedule then, Faye?”
Araatris: “Yes,” the other night elf confirms, tucking a strand of dark hair back into her long braid. “We may start traveling first thing in the morning.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse’s eyes light up. “I’ll get to see Rhe-.” At Faye’s worried frown, the huntress stops. “What else do we have left to do? A few more carts?”
Araatris: The other woman sighs, but nods. “We still have most of the cutlery to crate up as well. But perhaps… first, would you like to stretch our legs?”
Rhoelyn: Warily, the green-haired young woman asks, “Is it alright to do that when there’s so much to do? What if your mistress stops by again?”
Araatris: Faye scoffs. “The entire camp is in disarray during the move. She has made herself quite scarce to avoid the chaos. Someone might sweat on her.”
Rhoelyn: “Oh, then… yes, please.” Almost on cue, Yami runs up yipping. “Rhesan’s ready, too.” Nysse smiles apologetically down at the small wolf.
Araatris: Her new friend nods, handing off her list to another night elf nearby. “We’ll be just a short while.” Taking Nysse by the hand, she leads her off.
Rhoelyn: They walk along the outside of camp, pausing on a rocky outcropping to look out at the water. Nysse glances out of the corner of her eyes at Faye.
Araatris: The older night elf watches the waves lap at the island’s thin beach for a while, quiet, before she turns to the huntress. “I’m taking a risk.”
Rhoelyn: Frowning, Nysse turns and tilts her head, studying the woman. “A risk? What do you mean?” She tugs nervously on a loose lock of her long hair.
Araatris: She doesn’t answer directly, clenching her hands together. “I know you… have feelings for your master. But I want you to come with us. Leave him.”
Rhoelyn: Stunned, the huntress stammers, “W-what do you mean come with you? Where are you going?” Nysse grabs Faye’s hands and searches her face.
Araatris: Glancing around first, the slave leans closer. “There’s a draenei. A man named Hadaal. In the chaos of the move, security will be lax, tonight.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse grimaces and her face scrunches as she works through her conflicting feelings. “I– Faye, Rhese will…” She groans and covers her face.
Araatris: “No, no.” The woman wraps her arms around her, misinterpreting her reaction. “Come with us. Even if you love him, he won’t love you. He can’t.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress looks up. “Rhese loves me, Faye. I can’t explain, but he does. I- I can’t go yet.” She hugs Faye. “Please don’t worry about me.”
Araatris: Shaking her head, the other woman pulls away to grip her shoulders. “Please reconsider. I’ve seen how it gets, Nysse. You’ll be hurt.”
Rhoelyn: “It’s… It’s different. I swear it.” Nysse hugs her again, whispering in her ear. “He took me to see Aleesa. We’ll be there soon. I promise.”
Araatris: Faye’s grip on her tightens, and when she pulls away, her eyes are wide. “Y-you know about Aleesa? You’ll really come?” The huntress nods.
Rhoelyn: Nysse smiles. “Rhese isn’t who you think he is, Faye.” She blushes. “He feels the same way. He makes me take off my collar every time we’re alone.”
Araatris: The slave blinks, again questioning, “Truly?” “Truly,” Nysse says. Faye’s smile blossoms slowly, nervously. “Then I can hope he is different.”
Rhoelyn: “Please be careful, Faye.” Nysse entreats. “I’m worried. What you’re planning is dangerous.” The huntress hugs her once more before stepping back.
Araatris: Faye nods and smiles. “I will. But I want to be free. It’s worth the risk.” She squeezes Nysse’s hand. “Let’s get back before we’re missed.”
Rhoelyn: A few hours later, Relare stops by as they’re packing up the last wagon with the cutlery. “Nice work, ladies. Will we be ready to move out early?”
Araatris: Nysse grins but ducks her head slightly as Faye answers with a little nod. “Yes. Everything is ready, commander.” The blood elf smiles.
Rhoelyn: “That’s good to hear. Things are going our way.” He glances up. “Why don’t you take off early for dinner. All your hard work should be rewarded.”
Araatris: The slave manages a quick “Thank you” before he moves along, waving at the stable master. Faye looks at Nysse. “Let us get our rations.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress sighs morosely. “More rations. We’re only allowed two. I think they’re trying to starve me…” Her stomach rumbles loudly.
Araatris: Faye laughs softly and pats her shoulder before leading her over to the guarded crate. “Well, you can’t have mine. You will probably make it.”
Rhoelyn: The guard hands them each a packet with silent decorum. They head off to find a quiet spot. Nithan catches sight of them on the way through camp.
Araatris: The healer doesn’t hail them, but not long after they’ve settled, he shows up beside Faye, crossing his arms with a vague frown after he sits.
Rhoelyn: Nysse stammers softly, clutching an empty packet. “W-was there something wrong with your packing, sir?” Her stomach growls and she blushes.
Araatris: Faye looks over at him, a little wide-eyed. He says, “It’s fine. There was barely any need for me to come all the way back and oversee the work.”
Rhoelyn: The dark-haired woman finds her voice, “I’m glad that it was done to your standards. Is there something else that we can help you with?”
Araatris: “No.” He says it simply, sharply, simply sitting there, his gaze sweeping over the camp. Into the awkward silence, Nysse’s stomach growls again.
Rhoelyn: Nithan glares at her. “Have you been eating at all your meals?” He eyes her critically as she nods. “Have you lost any weight? Felt any illness?”
Araatris: The huntress blushes. “N-no. I’ve been fine. Just…” Her voice gets softer. “… just hungry.” He just grunts, and Faye rests her face in her palm.
Rhoelyn: While the other two sit quietly, Nysse gathers Yami onto her lap. She smiles tenderly and caresses his fur, murmuring, “Such a patient boy…”
Araatris: The other woman finally frowns over at the human. “Come now, healer. What can we do for you? You are delaying our dinner, you know.”
Rhoelyn: He waves dismissively.“Does my presence somehow stop the use of your hands and mouths?” Nysse offers a small piece of ration to Yami.
Araatris: The pup refuses, nosing the food back toward Nysse. “No, but w-” “You’re not my damn slaves,” the human snaps. “Eat.” Faye blinks at him.
Rhoelyn: Nysse sighs and they eat, finally relenting. When they finish, Nithan grumbles, “Now was that so hard?” The huntress asks, “Aren’t you hungry, sir?”
Araatris: Nithan shakes his head. “I ate my rations already.” Faye finally gets exasperated. “Then why are you here?” He frowns, his gaze fixed on her.
Rhoelyn: The medic studies her. “You both look and feel familiar to me; especially you. I was hoping that if I joined you, then I’d remember from where.”
Araatris: The huntress’ eyes widen, but Faye just looks at him, tilting her head. “Is it working? I think you could be right. Perhaps at the estate?”
Rhoelyn: Nithan sighs. “Not possible. I’ve never been to their estate.” Nysse ventures quietly, “What if… what if you were just meant to meet us, sir?”
Araatris: “Meant to…?” The healer makes a face. “That sounds like some sort of sparkling mommy moon rot.” Faye smirks. “Then why are you holding my hand?”
Rhoelyn: Nysse smiles softly as he stares down at their hands. “Or the Light. There are things that guide us, Nithan. Would it hurt you to follow yours?”
Araatris: The human raises his gaze to Faye’s, brow furrowed. She speaks softly, “You feel it, too, don’t you?” He mumbles, “It’s probably ration poisoning.”
Rhoelyn: Faye raises her free hand to press against his forehead. “You don’t feel feverish, and neither Nysse nor myself are sick. What are you feeling?”
Araatris: Nithan reaches up to snag Faye’s hand, at first just to pull it away, but then he pauses to look at her palm, running his fingers across it.
Rhoelyn: The huntress blushes and looks away. Faye’s gaze locks on Nithan with a teasing smile. “What do you see there, priest? Our future perhaps?”
Araatris: He smirks at her, the expression lighting his blue eyes. “Irreverent chit. In what world would I decide to love you? It must be insane.”
Rhoelyn: “Perhaps the one where we meet as equals, Nithan Caldwell. Do you think I was always a slave?” Faye leans closer to him and whispers.
Araatris: The priest flushes, his cheeks reddening as he clears his throat. “How did you–? That is … T-that is surprisingly detailed. And accurate.”
Rhoelyn: Faye’s voice is still soft as she suggests, “Meet with me tonight… I’ll explain how I know. Please, Nithan.” She clasps his hands in hers.
Araatris: “Tonight?” His eyes widen. “Fayrial, I’m really not sure… That is, you are very lovely, but this is a bit sudden for me to … ah…”
Rhoelyn: She laughs, running her thumb over his hand. “I’ll take it slow; talking and walking. Surely my loveliness won’t overwhelm you for just that.”
Araatris: He tsks, repeating, “Irreverent chit.” But his lips are twisted up in a grin. “Fine. I’ll meet you, but don’t expect me to let you ravish me.”
Rhoelyn: The teal-haired woman’s expression is tender. “Oh really? Well, we’ll have to see what happens. Perhaps it’ll be an option another time.”
Araatris: Nysse is the reddest of them all, though she tries to distract herself giving Yami attention. Nithan’s chuckle follows him as he leaves.
Rhoelyn: Faye pokes Nysse’s red cheek and teases, “Are you going to explode?” The huntress mumbles, “I’m not used to hearing people talk like that…”
Araatris: “In truth, I’m not used to speaking like that.” Faye watches the man’s back. “But with him… You said it yourself. There are things that guide us.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress smiles. “It does feel right that you found each other.” She gently scratches Yami’s furry jaw. “Shall we go and find Rylana?”
Araatris: As the two night elves get to their feet and head off, Rhese wanders at the edge of the forward camp, his gaze on the distant spirit fields.
Rhoelyn: Leo’s cheerful voice interrupts his thoughts, “Are you so forlorn without her that you’ve taken to pacing here? She’ll be back tomorrow.”
Araatris: Turning back, he smirks and waits for him to catch up. “You know, I am not completely obsessed with my girl. I was thinking about someone else.”
Rhoelyn: The sin’dorei raises both eyebrows, “Well, that’s not the answer that I expected.” He steps in beside Rhese. “So who were you thinking about?”
Araatris: The druid glances away, resting his hand over the silver and bone ornament on his dagger sheath. “My sister,” he says, lips pressing together.
Rhoelyn: “Your sister? Is she part of restoring your family? You mentioned that when we were talking before.” Leothir rests a hand on his shoulder.
Araatris: “There is no family without her,” Rhese says, looking over at him. “It’s just the two of us.” His friend nods soberly. “Is she back in Silvermoon?”
Rhoelyn: Rhese rubs his face. “She got into trouble a while back and might have been captured. I’ve been looking for her.” Leo grimaces sympathetically.
Araatris: “I hope it’s something less dire, my friend,” the blood elf pats his back. “I shudder to imagine a highborn lady in savage Sunbane hands.”
Rhoelyn: The druid clenches his jaw tightly. “I hope so, too.” Leothir redirects the conversation. “At least you have Nysse to help start the estate.”
Rhoelyn: He smiles comfortingly, “I’m sure she’ll be able to give you several children before you have to settle down and find a nice highborn wife.”
Araatris: Rhese’s nails dig into his palms, and the grimace he grits out reveals abnormally sharp canines. “Doesn’t it ever feel wrong to you, Leothir?”
Rhoelyn: Leo frowns worriedly, disconcerted by his friend’s expression and tone. “You mean having children with the slaves? It’s become more acceptable-”
Araatris: “Not just that.” The disguised druid looks back toward the camp before fixing his gaze on Leothir. “Everything. The war. Slavery. The way it is.”
Rhoelyn: The mage carefully considers Rhese. Finally, he sighs. “I wish it wasn’t necessary. The one gift I can never give my flower is her freedom.”
Araatris: Rhese’s sigh echoes Leothir’s. “You…” He frowns and looks away from the other man, wondering if he was wrong. “Don’t mind me. I’m out of sorts.”
Rhoelyn: In a softer voice, Leo replies, “No, no. I’m sorry. I… I love her, Rhese, but I don’t know what to do. It does feel wrong to cage her.”
Araatris: “But you won’t consider freeing her?” The mage shakes his head. “I can’t. I would lose her.” He droops, his shoulders rounding. “I can’t lose her.”
Rhoelyn: Rhese frowns, “But if she really cares for you, why do you think you’d lose her? Don’t you have any faith in her? Nysse would stay.”
Araatris: Leothir shakes his head sadly. “She wouldn’t stay. She’s… I’ve tried, Rhese. I really have. But no matter what I give her, she’s desperate to leave.”
Rhoelyn: “Do you know why?” Rhese grips his arm. “Wait… Come with me when she arrives. I have someone that might be able to help. A seeress near here.”
Araatris: The blood elf blinks at him, his brow furrowing. “A seeress? Rhese, wh-” “What if we can fix everything?” Leothir hesitates before pulling away.
Rhoelyn: The druid watches the mage shake his head. “What? Why not? What if it meant that you wouldn’t have to be afraid of her leaving anymore?”
Araatris: “What are you even talking about? Changing things?” Leo shakes his head again, stepping back. “I may not love caging her, but at least I have her.”
Rhoelyn: Rhese takes a deep breath. “Maybe I am more off without her than I realized. Please forget I said anything.” He smiles weakly and turns away.
Araatris: The sin’dorei stays behind, watching Rhese’s back as he walks away. His brow furrows, and he folds his arms against a fearful chill.
Rhoelyn: It’s dawn the next day as Nysse gets ready and leaves her tent. She crosses the eerily quiet camp and proceeds to double check the packed carts.
Araatris: A hand clamping on her arm startles her as she reaches for a crooked crate. “What kind of sick game is this?! A trick?” Nithan yanks her around.
Rhoelyn: Nysse gasps and stumbles into him. “W-what?” She blinks at him blankly. “What are you t-talking about?” “Where’s Faye? Where’s all the slaves?”
Araatris: Nysse’s eyes widen, and she clamps her lips together. The medic narrows his eyes at her. “She was always going to leave. Then why d-did she s-”
Rhoelyn: The huntress stays silent and looks down, unable to meet his gaze. Nithan shakes the young woman. “Why? Where did she go? Why didn’t you leave?”
Araatris: “You need to answer him,” Relare approaches the two of them, flanked by Dethedrus and a pair of guards. “Nyssera, tell us what you know.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse shrinks under their gaze. “I d-don’t know. She asked me h-how I felt about my m-master yesterday, but that’s all. You’re h-hurting me…”
Araatris: “Tell us what she said, exactly.” The commander speaks firmly, though he places a hand on Nithan’s arm. The priest scowls, but releases her.
Rhoelyn: She hugs herself. “F-Faye told me t-that he could n-never feel the same and she didn’t want to see m-me hurt- S-sorry. I don’t remember exactly…”
Araatris: Relare sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Looking weary already, he gestures the guards toward her. “You are confined to your tent.”
Araatris: He turns to Dethedrus. “There were twenty-three more slaves in this camp four hours ago. Take our best trackers, four mages, and half a platoon.”
Rhoelyn: Yami growls as the guards approach. Nysse scoops him up and stammers, “I-i won’t leave. I can help with moving…” Vorok pads around the cart.
Araatris: The dwarf acknowledges the command, but eyes Vorok warily, staying put. “Ye’d best be tellin’ yer pups ta relax, lass. Ye ‘ave yer orders.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress twists to see Vorok. “Oh!” She pets his muzzle with a free hand. “I’m just going back to my tent… It’s okay, Vorok. Really.”
Rhoelyn: She ducks her head and steps away from the large wolf towards the guards. “I’m coming, but please don’t touch me. It’ll make him nervous.”
Araatris: As the guards flank her, Relare turns back to Deth. “Hurry. I don’t want them joining the forces already at Karabor. I’ll get the camp moved.”
Rhoelyn: Anxiously, Nysse walks, ignoring the looks from the soldiers they pass. She hugs Yami closer and mouths prayers to Elune under her breath.
Araatris: Vorok growls as they reach the tent, his ears flattening. As the two guards eye him nervously, he wuffs at Nysse, stepping closer to them.
Rhoelyn: “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just going to rest in the tent.” Nysse steps up and kisses his forehead. She looks at the guards. “Can he sleep outside?”
Araatris: He glares at the guards as they look at each other. “Um…” the taller guard mumbles, “if he behaves himself.” Vorok snorts and stomps between them.
Rhoelyn: The wolf noses her into the tent and curls up, blocking the entrance. The tall guard murmurs to the other, “Maybe we should tell the commander…”
Araatris: “It’s fine as long as she doesn’t leave, right?” The two guards share a sigh and settle in at either side of him. Nysse sits on the cot with Yami.
Rhoelyn: Shifting into a young boy, Yami cuddles his mother. She smiles weakly and settles in for a long wait. A hour or so later, voices raise up outside.
Araatris: The boy shifts back to a wolf and hops down from the cot as Nysse sits forward. Vorok’s snarling has her hopping to her feet and rushing out.
Rhoelyn: Lady Emeria shrieks, “What is that creature doing in the middle of camp?! I need to speak with the slave. Remove it!” She glares at the guards.
Araatris: The two of them are scratching their heads and eyeing Vorok when Nysse pushes through the tent flap. “I’m here, Lady Emeria. What can I do?”
Rhoelyn: The woman smirks. “That will work as well. You will tell me where Fayrial and the rest went.” Nysse ducks her head, “I don’t know, Lady Emeria.”
Araatris: “I simply don’t believe you.” The highborn lady quirks a finger at her and the guard beside her takes her arm despite Vorok. “Tell the truth.”
Rhoelyn: The guard pulls her forward to the lady. “I really don’t know anything, miss. I’m… really supposed to stay in my tent. The commander ordered-”
Araatris: “My son,” she says with a disapproving frown, “does not understand how easily misled you lowborn are. You require a firmer hand, as this shows.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse bites her lip and murmurs, “I would n-never leave my master, miss. I’m sorry, but she never mentioned anything to me. I wish I could help.”
Araatris: Scoffing, she reaches forward and grabs the chain attached to Nysse’s collar. “You may be brighter than most of your kind, but I think you do know.”
Rhoelyn: Wide-eyed, the huntress is pinned between the chain and the guard behind her. “Miss, I really don’t know!” Nysse gasps as the chain jolts her.
Araatris: Vorok snarls, shoving forward. The other guard tries to block his way. “Fayrial likes you. Do not think I didn’t notice.” Emeria sniffs. “Talk.”
Rhoelyn: Gritting her teeth, she gasps. “I. Don’t. Know. Miss.” Emeria hmphs. “Little liar.” The next jolt sends the huntress to her knees. “P-please.”
Araatris: Yami darts under the guard’s feet and snaps at the lady’s skirt, digging his teeth into the delicate fabric and yanking. Vorok lunges at the guard.
Rhoelyn: The guard falls under the large wolf and the other guard leaps to grab Vorok’s harness. Emeria yanks Nysse on to her hands as she steps back.
Araatris: “Oh! You misbegotten whelp!” The pain from the chain wanes as Emeria’s concentration shifts to Yami, and she kicks at him with a dainty slipper.
Rhoelyn: Nysse cries out, but Yami dodges and bites the slipper, tugging the soft shoe from the lady’s foot. A voice booms, “What is going on here?!”
Araatris: Emeria releases Nysse to stumble backward, “limping” to keep her silken foot from touching the dirty ground any more than is strictly necessary.
Rhoelyn: Relare strides into the chaos. “Nyssera, calm your wolves. Paella, support my mother.” Nysse hoarsely soothes them and retrieves the shoe.
Araatris: The guard takes Lady Emeria’s arm as the woman gasps and sputters. “That cur accosted me! Relare, I demand you put it down. Awful beast!”
Rhoelyn: The commander presses his lips together. “Mother, I doubt that tiny pup is capable of hurting you. However, I will have them taken to the stable.”
Araatris: Nysse grimaces when the incensed lady snatches her slipper back. “That is hardly sufficient punishment, Relare. The slave is still lying to me.”
Rhoelyn: “We haven’t determined that.” Relare sighs. Lady Emeria puts her slipper on and reaches for Nysse’s chain as the wolves are pulled away. “She is.”
Araatris: The huntress gasps as power flares through the chain’s enchantment, setting her nerves on fire. “Mother!” Relare barks. “That is enough!”
Rhoelyn: His mother snaps, “No! Not until she tells me where they-” Relare grasps her wrist until she releases the chain. “Remove your hand, Relare!”
Araatris: “You, madame, are out of line,” he tells his mother harshly. “Paella, the esteemed lady wishes to go to her tent and stay there. See to it.”
Rhoelyn: The guard takes a deep breath. “This way, Lady Emeria.” She stares at him before turning and stalking away, leaving Nysse alone with Relare.
Araatris: Pinching the bridge of his nose yet again, the sin’dorei finally looks at Nysse, offering a hand up. “Are you harmed?” She shakes her head.
Rhoelyn: “I’m sorry my mother punished you like that. I was coming to question you myself.” Relare sighs as Nysse clutches her hands nervously.
Araatris: The paladin gestures back toward the tent. “Would you mind if we sit? I’ve been on my feet all morning, and I could use a rest.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse silently holds open the tent, allowing him to enter. Relare groans in relief as he sinks into the chair. The huntress sits on the cot.
Araatris: “This is a disaster.” The blood elf groans the words and reaches down to remove his left boot. “If they go to Karabor, I’ll… have to kill them.”
Araatris: “Ah, Light. It’s exactly what Leothir is always going on about.” The commander makes a sour face and rubs his aching foot, his hands glowing softly.
Rhoelyn: Nysse draws her knees up to her chest under her long skirt. “W-what does he go on about? Maybe… to them… their freedom was worth dying.”
Araatris: “Maybe it was.” Relare scrubs his hands over his face. “But it’s true that while they were here, I could protect them from the worst of the war.”
Rhoelyn: She stares at him before sliding off the cot to kneel at his feet. “Then stop the war. No one has to die. Wouldn’t it be better to meet as equals?”
Araatris: He looks down at her. “I’m only one elf, Nyssera, not a king or a dragon. The only way I have to end the war is exactly what I’m already doing.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse wilts and mumbles, “None of this is right…” She ducks her head, trying to fight back tears. “I really don’t know where they are, Relare…”
Araatris: He considers her with his luminous green eyes for a while before he wilts as well, sighing. “Very well. I believe you. It’s all up to Deth, now.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress tilts her shining bright eyes up. “How did you end up doing this? You don’t keep slaves and you seem to hate everything about this war.”
Araatris: “It’s my duty,” he says, starting the process of getting his boot back on. “The highborn are dying, Nyssera. We can’t afford to lose the war.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse frowns and rests a hand on his knee. “What do you mean they’re dying? Because of this war… Or are you talking about something else?”
Araatris: The blood elf sighs and shakes his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Rhese would keep you in the dark about that. He’s very protective.”
Rhoelyn: Frowning worriedly, Nysse begs, “Please tell me. I know it’s crazy, but I love him. I don’t want to lose him because of something I don’t know.”
Araatris: Relare rests his hand over hers. “Would that more people in this world had a heart as big as yours, Nyssera. Highborn lives are getting shorter (c)
Araatris: (c) and pureblood children are more scarce than ever. After the losses from the demons’ attempts to claim Quel’thalas… we are few and getting fewer.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress casts her gaze down. “That’s why Leo mentioned children,” she pauses to meet his gaze, “Better half-breeds than extinction.”
Araatris: He nods, his sadness furrowing his brow. “Prince Kael’thas’ decree was never really about humiliating the night elves, nor really about vengeance.”
Rhoelyn: “I’m sorry, Relare. It really shouldn’t have to be this way.” Nysse looks away and wipes roughly at her eyes. “What are you going to do with me?”
Araatris: “Give you back to your master,” Relare says with resignation, releasing her and standing to tap his boot into place. “We’ll be moving in an hour.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse nods, biting her lip. “Y-yes, commander. Should I stay here or assist with the move?” Relare frowns, “Perhaps. Leo’s woman just arrived…”
Araatris: He considers for a moment before nodding to himself. “Yes, you can help by keeping her company and protecting her. I’ll send Rylana to you.”
Rhoelyn: Nodding, Nysse replies softly, “Yes, commander.” Relare leaves and several minutes later Rylana comes in, looking more than a little ragged.
Araatris: The sergeant wears a dour expression that brightens a little when she sees Nysse. “Thank th’Light ya’re okay. They been runnin’ me all mornin’.”
Rhoelyn: “Yes, I’m fine.” The huntress stands, feeling dizzy at the sudden motion. “It’ll be a busy day.” She steadies herself with a light hand on Ry’s arm.
Araatris: “Ah s’pose so.” The young woman starts to turn away only to pause and peer at Nysse. “Ya lookin’ pale, Nysse. Didn’t ya git any food, yet?”
Rhoelyn: The night elf shakes her head. “The rations have been barely holding me over. I was intending to eat before I was restricted to my tent.”
Araatris: “Tsk,” she scowls and calls for the guards before turning back. “They already dun packed up the rations, but I’ll figger somethin’ out fer ya.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse smiles gently, squeezing her arm. “It’s alright, Ry. I know how busy you are. We can head on to Leo’s guest. I’m to keep her company.”
Araatris: “Oh? That’s good, then. She’ll prolly have somethin’ for ya.” Ry grins and nods. “Ain’t met her, but I heard Leo sees t’it she travels in comfort.”
Rhoelyn: Ry waves off the guards as they leave and walks slowly so Nysse can use her for support. “Now doncha faint on me, Nysse.” The sergeant teases.
Araatris: The huntress giggles. “I’ll try not to. That’d be embarrassing.” Ry grins. “Don’ worry none. Ah’d catch ya if ya did. An’ ah promise not ta laugh.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress smiles appreciatively. “Thanks, Ry.” They approach a large carriage with a family crest. “Is that carriage for Lady Emeria?”
Araatris: Rylana laughs and says, “Naw.” She points at the petite figure in a gold and midnight blue cloak and cowl feeding treats to the hawkstriders.
Rhoelyn: The figure turns at their voices. Nysse ducks her head, glimpsing a woman in a fine gown. “Good morning, Miss. I’ve been asked to keep you company.”
Araatris: With a warm smile, the woman brushes seed from her hands before reaching up to pull her cowl back. “Ishnu alah, s… sister.” She blinks at Nysse.
Rhoelyn: The green-haired huntress stares, stunned, at the familiar features and silver hair. She blushes furiously as her stomach growls loudly.
Araatris: The priestess startles, recovering herself, and manages not to laugh despite the amusement in her eyes. “Oh! Have they not given you breakfast?”
Rhoelyn: “N-no, I m-missed breakfast and I’ve b-been on rations. I’m so s-sorry.” Nysse groans and covers her face. Ry laughs. “Nysse is always hungry.”
Araatris: Stepping forward, the newcomer claims Nysse’s hands gently. “Nysse, is it? That’s easily enough rectified.” She tugs toward the carriage door.
Rhoelyn: Ry grins, “Ah’ll leave ya t’it.” She gently urges Nysse after her. “N-no, I couldn’t. I c-can wait- I’m dirty.” Nysse protests as they enter.
Araatris: The silver-haired woman smiles and waves away her concerns, settling into one of the cushioned seats and pulling a laden basket from underneath.
Rhoelyn: “Please? Leothir has given me more than I could possibly eat.” She hands Nysse an apple. The huntress resists taking it. “What’s your name?”
Araatris: The priestess wraps Nysse’s hands around it, cupping them with her own. She looks sheepish. “Ah. Please excuse my manners. My name is Rhoelyn.”
Rhoelyn: “R-rhoelyn?!” Nysse drops the apple, shaking, and grabs her hands, speaking in a quick excited whisper, “Do you have a brother named Rhese?”
Araatris: The other woman freezes like a startled doe, paling dramatically. “You… you know my brother?” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears.
Rhoelyn: The huntress nods, speaking in soft tones. “Yes, but we’re undercover. He… doesn’t look like himself. He’s been looking for you for a year.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn’s voice cracks and her grip on Nysse’s hands tightens. Still, she manages to whisper as a tear drips free. “H-he’s here?! Rhese is here?”
Rhoelyn: “Y-yes, masquerading as m-my master.” A wave of dizziness has the huntress sinking to the floor. “If he sees you… he’ll break the disguise.”
Rhoelyn: “He’s made… friends with… Leothir.” Nysse pauses, struggling to think. “None of this is right, but… I… have to eat.” She fumbles for the apple.
Araatris: Rhoelyn grabs the apple for her and shoves it in her hand, sinking to the carriage floor beside her. “You’re exhausted.” Her hand glows golden.
Rhoelyn: Nysse eats ravenously. “I eat more than normal and they’ve had us on rations. Then things went crazy, and I angered Lady Emeria this morning.”
Araatris: The priestess watches silently, wiping at the tears that fall and handing her more food. She bites her lip, leaving a Light-wreathed hand on her leg.
Rhoelyn: The huntress grimaces and stops eating. “I’m sorry. None of this is right…” She reaches up to brush away Rhoelyn’s tears with a trembling hand.
Araatris: “Eat,” the other woman reminds her softly, blushing shyly at the contact. “I-I’m fine. Just… I am… I-I’m afraid to believe you. It hurts to hope.”
Rhoelyn: The green-haired woman nods. “I know.” She continues between bites. “Let’s see… he’s kind, protective, and… has dark scars all over his body.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn considers her carefully before she nods, sniffling. “Elune…” She forces the words through a thick throat. “Finally. I must see him.”
Rhoelyn: After the fifth piece of fruit, Nysse sags against the bench tiredly. “This will hold me over for now. Rhese is my master. Here, he’s a blood elf.”
Araatris: “Your… master?” The priestess touches the collar at her throat even as she looks at Nysse’s. “A b-blood elf? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress blushes and looks away. “He’s using a magical disguise to look like a blood elf during our mission. I’m his guard… and slave.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn drags a silken sleeve across her cheeks to dry them. At a realization, her eyes widen. “Morthis sent you to disrupt Relare’s work.”
Rhoelyn: “Yes, because I don’t need weapons to protect Rhese, but… I can’t protect myself without placing him in danger.” Nysse’s hand brushes her neck.
Araatris: The priestess’ shoulders round, and she looks down with furrowed brow to fuss at the fabric by her hands. “You’ve been given a cruel role, sister.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse closes her eyes, willing the burning in her eyes to cease. Still, her voice cracks, “I never thought the mission would be like this.”
Rhoelyn: “The looks, the comments, the attacks… none of it stops. Sometimes… sometimes I forget…” She stops, clenching her hands. “Rhese reminds me.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn speaks softly, her eyes downcast. “I think the war has made Morthis unkind.” She sighs. “It is fortunate that you have him, at least.”
Rhoelyn: Opening her eyes and ignoring her tears, Nysse pulls Rhoelyn into a hug. “A comfort you haven’t had.” She sighs, “I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.”
Araatris: The priestess curls against her, accepting the comfort and fighting back her tears. “My fate is not your fault. I cannot begrudge you his presence.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse sniffles, hiding her face. “You should. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been alone.” She shakes her head. “You’re very strong.”
Araatris: The attempt at a laugh Rhoelyn makes comes out more like a sob. “I am so weak, Nysse, that I want to see him even though it could endanger him.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse smiles weakly. “You’ll have to see him. Leothir and he are friends. He has no idea that you’re Leo’s slave. He calls you his flower.”
Araatris: “How like Leo,” she says, sniffling, “to forget to ever use my name. But fortunate, I suppose. You must warn Rhese, so he doesn’t betray himself.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse sighs, “That means keeping his attention on me. The only time that he ever-” The huntress clears her throat and blushes. “Nevermind.”
Araatris: Rhoelyn lifts her head, rubbing her eyes. “The only time he what?” It takes her a minute to notice Nysse’s color and expression. “O… Oh.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress covers her face. “Please forget I said anything. There’s no way I could wear another flimsy dress nor do we have one anyway.”
Araatris: “Ahhh… th-that is not entirely true.” Nysse looks up to find that it’s the priestess’ turn to blush. “Though it may fit you snugly.” She looks away.
Rhoelyn: Nysse sighs and rubs her face. “If it’s anything like the dress Leo had me wear as an apology to Rhese… yes. Faye said it was a dress for you.”
Araatris: “He had you…” The priestess sighs. “What a ridiculous man he is. I apologize for Leothir, sister. He has good intentions and bad influences.”
Rhoelyn: Hugging Rhoelyn, Nysse smiles. “I understood the intent even if I was mortified walking through camp. Are you okay with this crazy idea?”
Araatris: The other woman hugs her back, resting her head on Nysse’s strong shoulder. “I am afraid that I will not be able to do it. To see him and pretend…”
Rhoelyn: “He looks different. Black hair, green eyes, pale skin, but his voice, that’s the same even with the accent he does.” Nysse strokes Rhoe’s hair.
Araatris: “Even to hear him…” With little warning, the priestess sobs and hides her face against her companion’s shoulder. Her shoulders shake silently.
Rhoelyn: Nysse cradles Rhoelyn and lets her own tears fall. “Oh Rhoe…” They stay like that for a long time until they hear voices outside. “Are they ready?”
Araatris: Rhoelyn straightens and brushes at her eyes, looking shy. “Thank you, Nysse. And I’m sorry. You seem almost familiar, and I’ve taken advantage.”
Rhoelyn: Nysse smiles and mutters, “I needed it, too. I feel like there’s so much I still need to tell you, but I need to know… do you want to try our idea?”
Araatris: “Yes.” The priestess pushes to her feet and offers Nysse a hand up. “You will distract Rhese, and I will convince Leo to put off our introduction.”
Rhoelyn: The huntress takes her hand and stands. After a few minutes, the carriage is moving and Nysse and Rhoe talk and move quickly to prepare.
Araatris: “Really, Nyssera.” Faye smiles and pulls yet another crate from the pile, passing it to Nysse. “It’s been a wonder to have your help. And Vorok’s.”