A/N: I normally like to write detailed outlines before I begin any story. This is the first time I will literally just start writing whatever comes to me. Honest reviews are very much welcome. I hope it doesn't come across as disorganized!

In the deserts of Silithus, a lone tower looked over a vast flat expanse of sand from its vantage point on a small mountain. All that could be seen was one large, flat expanse of nothingness flowing out in all directions. The air was still and not even the scarabs could be seen that day. There was nothing but nothing, an endless plain leading on to more endless plains.

Even as the graceful, feminine figure appeared over the horizon, there were still no signs of life. She stepped slowly and carefully back toward the mountain, with a grace that belied the soul of a battle-hardened warrior underneath. Her face was expressionless and her movement was so precise that it almost seemed rehearsed. Her hands were unmoving as they clasped the handle of the medium-sized bucket of water in front of her. She seemed as though she was in no hurry and almost without purpose. Her long, silver hair was tied into a single braid which hung down behind her back, contrasting beautifully with her flowing green gown. Her eyes had the faint silver glow typical of her people, and though they were wide open she did not even seem totally aware of or concerned with her surroundings.

As she walked, she stepped over tracks so well-worn that they seemed etched into the packed earth near the small mountain path leading to the tower. Her steps were so measured, so exact that she no longer thought consciously about where she needed to step. This had been her daily routine longer than she could even remember. The nearest hot spring was a bit of a walk and she had to plan her trips to wash her clothes and fetch drinking water carefully.

As she reached the tower, she carefully set the bucket down outside and held the bag containing her freshly washed clothes in one hand as she unlocked the door. Tucking the bag underneath her arm again, the lifted the bucket and set it inside on the ground floor of Staghelm Point, the lone tower which had been her prison for so long. She closed and locked the door behind her and placed her bag carefully on the table. The clothes were damp and would need to be hung out to dry. She placed the damp clothes into a wooden bowl and carefully carried them upstairs, her movement on the steps as precise and exact as her trail to and from the hot springs. In the top of the tower, she held each article of clothing over the railing and rung out the excess water, carefully placing each one down on said railing to dry. She repeated this slowly as though she was unconcerned with how long the chore took.

The sky had begun to turn somewhat red as the mid-afternoon shifted to late afternoon. She sat on one of the three wooden chairs in the top of the tower, watching the small number of the clouds in the sky drift by, searching for any interestingly shaped ones that would remind her of something. Of anything. It was highly entertaining and she savored those moments when there were clouds. She took a small wrapped package that was lying on the table at the top of the tower, carefully opening the aged paper and pulling out some sungrass and beansprouts. She grew everything herself in a patch of dirt next to the tower, and had trained herself to live comfortably on much less food than she had been used to before. She savored every last bite, chewing longer than was necessary and enjoying the aftertaste for a long while before taking another bite. Oh, how she enjoyed eating bean sprouts. And watching clouds at the same time? This would most certainly be a day to remember.

It was no longer possible to measure how many days later it was when she found herself again, sitting on the same chair, at the same table, facing the same direction as she viewed the beaten path which adventurers had once called a road in the valley down below. There were no clouds that day, and she didn't feel hungry at the time. There was always something new to look at, if one focused closely enough. She had already spent six hours reading through her prayer book, reveling in the teachings of Elune and verses about the moon which had not yet faded from the crumbling pages. It was the least she could do, and any less would leave her feeling like she had not accomplished anything that day. But for now, it was her time to look at things.

Then, from behind the lower eastern ridge of the mountain, she saw a sight which was rare yet still familiar. Four mounted animals carrying three travelers and some supplies were trotting alongside the road. Living people. People she could talk to. Her long years of isolation had been hard at first, but she eventually became used to it. She no longer needed contact with others - others - but she would never refuse it and always enjoyed it. If she had no options, she was perfectly content to look at things and care for her vegetable garden, given that she had freshly washed clothes and enough time to read her prayer book in the mornings. But she had met so many lovely, wonderful people in her time here at the tower and always cherished those moments where she was reminded that the world had not come to an end. She rose quicker than her usual movement speed, lighting one of the distinctive Kaldorei lanterns at one corner of the tower's roof with a snap of her fingers. Travelers often didn't take notice of Staghelm Point, and over the years she had learned to invoke the power over moonbeams Elune has bestowned upon her to quickly light the stone lantern before the potential visitors were out of sight. If they chose not to establish contact with her, she would extinguish the lantern and sit back down, satisfied with merely looking at the travelers and thinking of names she would like to give them. If they chose to stop by to stay for a day or even a few, she was always delighted to have the company. Either way, she would be fine. There were many things - living and unliving - to be looked at. Without even seeming to notice the lantern, the group was already turning toward her tower. How did they know where it was? Had other visitors from long ago informed them of her? Oh! Oh, did somebody out there remember her?

Calm down, she told herself. You shouldn't get your hopes up for nothing. Maybe they don't remember you, and if so then that's fine. You don't even know who "they" are. Still, the thought was difficult to supress. Nobody ever seemed to come to Staghelm Point intentionally. And even if it was some sort of a mistake, she measured based on her experience that they would reach the front door of her tower in approximately three minutes and seventeen seconds. If she held a false belief during those three minutes and seventeen seconds that some of her former visitors actually remembered who she was, then what was the harm? It made her feel good.

Yes, it's okay to feel good. Some of your former visitors actually remembered who you are and they mentioned you to these travelers. They are now visiting your tower based on recommendations from others. Believe!

The group was certainly interesting to behold. Two humans, a male and a female, were riding brown horses with the same colored manes. The male and the female both had sandy brown hair and she guessed that they might be relatives. Some sort of a fast moving ram was behind them, packed with some traveling gear. The fourth mount was a Kalimdor raptor, with...a female junge troll riding it? Oh, how unique for these two humans to bring such an individual on their journey with them. Who was she to judge? Perhaps this group would have a story she had not heard before.

She stood up from her chair, chiding herself politely for being so excitable. They haven't even reached the door yet and she was standing up? Perish the thought. At least she hadn't begun descending the staircase. What if she turned into a laughing stock?

Before she knew it, she travelers were dismounting and dusting off their clothes. The humans were both wearing brown leather pants and vests, with long-sleeved yellow shirts made from cotton underneath the vests. She was sure they were siblings. The troll was wearing brightly contrasting red and silver pants and shirt, and looked like she might be some sort of a rogue. Her gear was halfway between armor and clothing. Surely, this cross-factional crew must have an interesting story regarding the beginning of their friendship. Oh, the human female was knocking on the door! Time to go down.

She descended her staircase, placing a hand on her mouth as she chuckled slightly, the first emotion she had allowed to escape in a long time. This was such a great day already. She certainly hoped her ability to speak Common had not become rusty. Straightening her green dress, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

The human female was still standing there, a curious gaze aiming upward to meet her own. The male who appeared to be her brother was chatting with the troll female who was about an entire head taller than him. She smiled warmly, especially when she noticed the storm crow perched on the back of the ram creature.

"What brings you here?" she asked in crisp, slightly accented Common.

"We were passing by and had heard the inhabitant of this tower was hospitable toward travelers," replied the human with a bubbly, almost effervescent voice. What a wonderful person to listen to! And her belief was correct; somebody had remembered her! And told others about her! She visibly pinched herself to make sure this wasn't a dream.

"What you heard is correct. Staghelm Point is always welcoming to strangers traversing the wastes. May I ask your names?" Yes, that must have sounded friendly. They will certainly want to stay the night.

"I am Esmerelda Redsmith, ranger of the guild known as the Revenge Seekers."

"Ishnu-alah," she replied, doing her best to sound welcoming. She could hardly contain her giddiness.

"Thank you, and you as well," the human continued. "This is my twin brother Erikur Redsmith, also with-"

"I am honored," she interrupted, doing her best to show them that she felt honored.

"Y-yes, of course. And our special ally here is Sonja of the-"

"What brings you here?"

"Uh...well, the same thing that brought me and my sister here I guess," the human male answered. He looked at the troll and then back to the elf. "Sonja doesn't speak Common."

"I am honored."

Esmerelda clasped her hands together in front of her and continued smiling at their host, ignoring he confused look her brother was sharing with the troll. She noticed that their host was now looking expectedly at the storm crow. "You know what he is, don't you?" It was said as a statement rather than a question.

With a flash of green light, the storm crow morphed into a tall, light-blue skinned Druid of the Talon adorned with the animal furs and tree branches typical of his type.

"This is Geldor Rainsong, a mentor and adviser within our guild." The druid bowed as he was introduced. Esmerelda motioned to their host with her fingertips on both hands. "Are you Ralo'shan?"

Her heart fluttered both at the presence of another of her kind as well as the sound of her own name being spoken by another person. What a positive experience!

"Yes, that is I, Ralo'shan, Priestess of the Moon and member of the Sisterhood of Elune, formerly an Eternal Watcher of the Bronze Dragonflight. She held her hands out in an attempt to appear welcoming. "If you close the wooden gate behind you, your mounts will be safe while here. I have some fresh water and bean sprouts inside, as well as some chairs. Staghelm Point will be like your own home if you would prefer to stay here for a visit."

She wrinkled her nose without noticing. "I hope your blue-haired companion's raptor can get along with the other mounts!" Yes, humor is quite apt in social situations involving others. This was going perfectly.

"We were hoping you would invite us in," beamed Esmerelda. "We've heard nothing but positive things about you." Ralo'shan's heart was pounding at the barrage of kindness headed her way.

At the top of the tower, Esmerelda and Sonja took two of the chairs while Ralo'shan leaned against one of the corners of the tower and rested her back on one of the four support pillars holding up the roof. As Geldor moved to another corner, Erikur called on him and insisted that he sit. The druid refused at first, not wanting to appear greedy until the human male insisted that he would feel offended if the druid didn't sit. He relented and the human retreated to the other corner. Others are technically things, so by looking at them and observing them Ralo'shan was actually enjoying two activities at once. If she hadn't filled every page of her diaries ages ago, this would certainly have been a day to write about.

Once everyone was situated, Esmerelda wasted no time engaging in conversation. "Ralo'shan, what is it that you do out here?"

If she had a meter to measure her giddiness, it would certainly have indicated an excessively high measurement at this current time. She had rehearsed her story so many times that she considered herself an expert at telling it. Perhaps this group of travelers would also consider her an expert after she told it.

"It was here, nearly one-thousand years past, that the Qiraji began their march of destruction across Azeroth." She used to say Kalimdor, but with her people's entrance into the Alliance she felt it more politically correct to use inclusive language. "Thousands of lives were lost during the War of the Shifting Sands, most of them here in this desert during the initial invasion. I am one of only a few that remain, chained to both the past and the present. I do not know why I am to remain here but I know that I must."

"How do you know?" asked Erikur. That was exactly the question Ralo'shan had hoped to be asked next.

"I have been slain a hundred times," her voice revealing a combination of frustration, regret and joy (she was sharing her story with others). "I always wake here, alive. Some say I am cursed and others..." It was a long shot, but she hoped they would ask the right question if she trailed off as though something were on her mind.

"And others?" asked Erikur again. He was quite skilled at asking questions!

"They say that I am blessed and that I am a herald to harken a new era."

There was a moment of silence until Sonja nudged Esmerelda expectedly. "Oh, and, uh...what do you say?"

There it is. Her favorite question to be asked.

"Ancient forces that have not been seen or felt for a thousand years are stirring. The world weeps. Perhaps...a new Sundering comes. There is a sickness which is born within and it now seeps into our lands. There are nightmares in the Emerald Dream which now befoul our waking hours." She clasped her hands in front of her and lowered her eyelids first, and then her head, all for dramatic effect. Surely these travelers must understand the gravity of the situation.

She basked in the silence, likely a sign of their awe at her story. She raised her head and slowly opened her eyes (also for dramatic effect). Perhaps one of them would say something first. She was perfectly comfortable with the silence until then, as she was still able to look at them.

Esmerelda finally spoke up. "Ralo'shan, we actually stopped by hear for a purpose. We're on our way to Cenarion Hold to catch a flight path to Theramore. But after hearing about you from others, we thought it was important that we see you."

This was certainly turning out to be a great day. Not only had people remembered Ralo'shan, but they were also telling others positive things about her and those others wanted to take time out of their travel plans to visit her. It was overwhelming, it was almost too much to take in.

Before she could say anything, the human female continued.

"Well, you see...Ahn'Qiraj was destroyed. Like...almost a year ago. And we're pretty sure that you're no longer actually cursed, and since the bronze dragons stopped flying above this tower you probably aren't bound to this place anymore. Our guild would like to invite you to come with us to Theramore at our expense. We want you to leave Silithus."

Ralo'shan frowned, the sheer amount of shock too much for her to react in any other way. This wasn't what she had hoped for at all.