Hooves clopped back and forth in the guard post, a testament to the nervousness that even the defenders of the Holy Light felt. Three vindicators, two of them quite young, paced around as they waited anxiously for word that their trump card had arrived.

Outside the window, they could see the sisters at the convent tending to their herb garden and going about their business of daily maintenance; a few of the brothers tried to repair fences that had been knocked over when the frantic escapees had first reached their small sanctuary in the Terokkar Forest. All of those members of the clergy were sworn to pacifism, relying entirely on the vindicators for protection.

Magtyra, the head of the six person guard outpost, folded her arms behind her back as she waited. Her two male counterparts sat on benches and read small prayer books, the nervousness apparent in their rushed tones. Both men were extremely young for their kind, only recently recruited from villages in the area. That made Magtyra the most senior member of the outpost, a position for which she bore anextreme dislike.

"Light, guide us," one of the two burly young men repeated, not even looking up from his prayer book as he gripped it in his hands.

Though she feared that her own unease might frighten her two youngers, pacing was the only technique she knew could calm her nerves at such a time. Finding little recourse, all Magtyra could do was attempt to slow down her rhythm as she worked out her nervous energy.

The pitter patter of familiar clawed feet filled her with both anxiety and relief. Her youngers didn't notice the sound, but they did notice her straighten up formally. Standing in the center of the front office at their outpost, she faced the door and waited until Pika walked in.

"Sergeant Magtyra!" the little arakkoa squaked as he burst into the room. An arakkoa convert, Pika was even more devoted to the Light than many of the draenei there, having made a conscious choice to volunteer at the little convent and provide what knowledge he could about illusion spells to mask the place from hostile eyes. "She came! She came!"

"Thank the Light!" Magtyra sighed at the dark figure came into the light inside of the outpost.

As tall as her but much heavier, the paladin looked like a much sterner version of herself. Plodding on the floor more heavily than the two men, the legendary traveling anti heroine clopped inside, her helmet clipped to her belt to reveal one horn intact and half of the other one broken off, and her warhammer slung over her shoulder. The more heavily armored woman walked in so smoothly that she practically radiated the Light she wielded; every movement was like striking a pose she hadn't even intended, and the slight arrogance about her only added to that sense of awe.

The two young men actually looked down in shyness, and Magtyra felt a brief twinge of jealousy at the fact that neither of them behaved to sheepishly in front of her. Shaking it off as immature, she held her hands open in a formal greeting. "Paladin Zhenya, I presume?" she asked, met only by a blank, apathetic stare as the woman didn't even spare her a nod. "We're so glad you came; our convent is in trouble!"

Glancing nonchalantly out the window, Zhenya watched the peaceful sisters and brothers tend to their volunteer tasks outside, keeping the convent of some three dozen plus a handful more of devotees tidy and well organized. Skepticism wove its way into the slight snort the paladin let escape from her small, wide nose, and Magtyra began to worry that their small sanctuary would seem insignificant to a woman who had become known as a mercenary in possession of creative solutions.

"As you can see, Paladin Zhenya, our quiet little community works to spread the true faith in these dark woods. But ever since that succubus has begun wooing our members into her cult...well, our volunteers are frightened. Oh so frightened!"

Zhenya honed in on Nazar, one of the brothers tilling a small garden of onions and cabbage. A mere century old, many of their kind weren't even sure whether to refer to him as a boy or a man, yet. "Mm hmm," she hummed without even listening. Doubt crept in and Magtyra intensely disliked the Zhenya's tone.

She stepped forward and placed a firm hand on the paladin's shoulder, standing at attention as two comrades in arms. "Please, help us bring down this cult! That succubus Nina wishes to convert our youth to her wicked ways and lead them astray!"

After she'd watched Nazar heave farming tools around for far longer than was appropriate, Zhenya turned back with her blank, empty stare. "Will there be phat lewtz?" she asked without any sense of restraint at all.

Magtyra smiled the smile of an angry person, but reminded herself that the Light taught its devotees not to judge; perhaps Pika hadn't been clear about the compensation involved, or she herself hadn't been clear to Pika. "Of course; while we don't work for material gain, we do understand that our sisters and brothers in faith do require sustenance. The going rate for this capture quest is five hundred gold-"

"Let's go," Zhenya said abruptly while turning tail and walking back outside.

"Um...yes, in the name of the Light, let's go!" Magtyra cheered while clopping after her.

The two young men hesitated for a moment, only following them outside when Magtyra turned around and waved at them impatiently. Pika stood at the doorway of the outpost, watching the guarantors of the sanctuary's safety follow the strange, stoic woman who'd already strode far ahead of them without even looking back.