Smiling contentedly, Yazmina settled down to tend the days wounded. Humming to herself, she couldn't help but find joy if the knowledge that only one soldier stationed in Valgarde was in need of her skills this evening. Channelling the minute amount of energy required, she bathed the soldier's gashed side in holy light, and smiled as the flesh began to knit itself back together. Healings can be difficult to watch when you're new to the practice, but after a while, the sight of the wounds repairing themselves brings a strange sense of comfort, despite the unnerving sight of it.

Panting a little from the sudden loss in energy, she reclined, and began sopping away the blood that leaked from the wound; she readied herself to continue with the healing. She'd need to replace the blood he'd lost, and then finish knitting up the gash in his side. Glad she'd taken the time in her past to learn the art of first aid, she began to sew the cut flesh together. While not as effective as traditional healing, when coupled with it, it increased the effects of the actual healing magic, by removing the need to re-arrange the flesh so that it could re-grow itself. Many victims of wounds had been left horribly scarred, but alive, from the excess tissue re-grown in the healing process. By sowing the wound back together, she removed the danger of this happening.

She sighed to herself. Her petition to have first aid training made mandatory in all priest training had again been denied. The elders still thought her young and rash, but she was aspiring. Although old by human standards, fifty six was still fairly young by Draenei standards. Her instructors had made that notion particularly clear when they'd joined the alliance, which was why she still retained the rank of Anchorite. One day, however, she would rise above that title, and would be able to change the way the priesthood trained their faithful.

Concentrating, she began channelling energy into the soldier's bone marrow, forcing it to create new blood at an extremely accelerated rate. A little seeped out between the stitches she'd placed in his skin, and she stopped to soak that up with her rag. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on her brow, though they were not particularly un-welcome. The Howling Fjord, while not nearly as cold as other regions of Northrend, still had a chilling bite to its weather. Not enough to kill you if you slept un-protected at night, but still enough to gnaw at you, and chill you to your core if you didn't warm up. The healing was causing her body to perspire, and she welcomed the heat it brought.

She continued to create new blood for several minutes, moving slowly until the colour began to return to the man's cheeks. This was another thing she meant to revolutionize. Modern priests were taught to heal quickly and many. This was useful in situations where one couldn't take time to do it properly, but many priests neglected taking time when it came to healing. The patients lived all the same, but some retained serious injuries cause by hasty healings. This was another thing Yazmina vowed to change when she had the chance. Although her ascension through the ranks of priestesses was slowed by her past, she was certain that if she kept faith, she'd eventually be able to make the changes she wished for.

Sitting back, she wiped the sweat from her brow, panting lightly. Blood was the hardest part of the healing, especially considering that you couldn't push a patient's bone marrow to hard, or it would decay rapidly. A little more blood had seeped through the stitches she'd tied into the man's side. She hadn't taken her time with the stitches, as they were going to come out after she'd finished healing him anyway.

She took a rather long drink from a flask of water, pausing only to gulp for air. When she'd finished, she turned her attention back to healing the patient. The final stage of the healing went rather quickly, and she finished a short two minutes later. It was as she was removing the stitches from his skin that she noticed the shadow creeping up behind her, and the soft clink of metal armour. She ignored him a moment, opting to finish removing the stitches instead.

"We'll be moving out soon." He said, leaning against one of the bunk beds that lined the walls of the room. She nodded her head, pulling the last stitch out. She wiped her hands on the last white patch of the cloth she'd been using to sop up the blood, and then turned to regard him. "You're certain you don't wish to come with us?" He asked, shifting his back, the golden sword strapped to it glinting in the lantern light.

She hesitated a moment. His presence was a little unnerving, but she swallowed her uneasiness. Regardless of the gentle aura of power emanating off him, he was still human. "I- I feel that perhaps I will be needed a little longer here. The commander has mentioned an impending attack, and I'm sure there will be some wounded that will need he- healing." She said, rising and placing the bloodied rag into a wooden crate with several others just like it.

He sighed, nodding his head. "Yes, I've heard of the commander's muttering's. However, the most recent dispatch from the Argent Vanguard was rather dire. We need to move on. However, if you do change your mind…" He said, shifting his weight and rising from the bed post, "We can always use another priestess." He said, smiling at her. Yazmina hesitated again, almost considering his offer. The air around him seemed a little brighter then the rest of the room's, and she was about to answer when the patient next to her coughed. She smiled at him,

"If Valgarde is going to be attacked, and you're paladin's aren't here, then they'll definitely need me around to deal with the wounded." She said, picking up her first aid equipment and tucking it back into the black bag she carried it in. Tirion watched her do it, and grinned,

"Yes well, when you can, we of the Crusade would appreciate it if you could journey up to the Vanguard. Many of our healer's could benefit from your techniques." He said, moving towards the door a little. Yazmina nodded, a strange feeling of elation coursing through her. She'd be able to teach others her new healing techniques. She bowed her head,

"Of course lord Fordring. If things are calm here for the next few days, I'll requisition a griffin and journey there as quickly as I can." She said, raising her head again. Tirion was gone, however the soft clink of his armour could be heard as he made his way out of the clinic.

Yazmina sighed to herself, and made a mental note to start writing a manual to the basics of combining first aid training with healing.

----------oOo----------

Ingvar raised his hand again, swinging it down with enough force to dent a tree. It struck the smaller Vrykul squarely in the jaw, sending him flying. The smaller Vrykul struggled back to its feet, the glare of defiance a little less bright in his eyes then before. Ingvar struck him again, sending him flying to the right several feet. This time the smaller vrykul tried scrambling to his feet, but his muscles failed him.

"Had enough yet pup?" Ingvar sneered, the contempt ringing through every word he spoke. "You don't think that just because you're Svala's son that you can escape punishment?" He bellowed, kicking out with his leg. The blow sent the boy flying, causing hi to land on his side. He managed to rise to all fours, and glared at Ingvar, hatred burning in his eyes. "Don't you agree, Svala? Does your son not deserve punishment for his actions?" He asked, laughing while glancing over the Vrykul woman. A look of disgust was evident on her face.

"He is no son of mine." She said, her voice taught with anger. At this, the boy laughed, and promptly received another kick, this one catching him in the chest. He was sent soaring through the air, landing on his back. He gasped in pain, but struggled to regain his posture regardless. When he managed to regain his breath, he laughed again. Faster then the eye could follow, Svala was above him, glaring into his face, "You think this funny? You think letting a spy go is funny?" She yelled, he fair skin taking on a deep colour, any signs of beauty now gone. A blast of dark energy sent the Vrykul flying. He slammed face first into the side of the wall, and fell back, tears sliding down his face from the impact. His nose was broken.

Ingvar handed Svala a whip. The boy wiped his eyes, and then looked up contemptibly at his mother. Despite the broken nose, the sneer on his face was evident. "And ih' ah saih' ah didn'h leh' him go?" He said, wiping the blood from his face. He took a moment, and snapped the bone in his nose back into place. Where blood had been staunched moment before, it now began to flow freely.

"LIES!" She screamed, her voice torn with rage. The whip lashed out, and struck the boy in the chest. The boy screamed in pain, but his voice was no longer distorted by his broken nose. A second blow sent him to the ground, and he clutched at the ripped flesh. Svala seemed to stop for a moment, looking distant, "I had such hopes for you Serkas. I should have known you wouldn't amount to anything more then scum." She said, he voice tight again.

Serkas grinned up at her, "Guess you shouldn't have fucked that prisoner then eh?" He said, laughing as he finished. He'd barely begun to laugh when the whip struck him in the jaw. He ignored it, "Guess having a human around was too much for you?" The whip struck him again, this time in the side of his head. "Poor Svala can't control her body or her temp-" The whip struck him again, in the same spot. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped forward, the blood from his gashes leaking onto the stone floor.

Svala stopped a moment, and for a split second looked remorseful. However, Ingvar moved back into her field of vision, and the look of rage returned to her face. She turned and walked out the door, her voice trailing behind her, "Lock him in the holding cell in my chamber." Ingvar nodded quietly, a minuscule look of awe on his face.

----------oOo----------

Varian turned to the Draenei ambassador, muttering something about the farm lands surrounding Stormwind, when a guard came into his audience chamber. Before Varian could address the interruption, the man saluted and spoke, "I- I'm sorry for the intrusion my lord. There is a night elf here to see you. She says it urge-" He stumbled as the door open, a slender night elf walking in. She glanced at the guard, and helped his regain his feet. Varian stared on, a slightly bemused, if anything, look on his face. The night elf came and bowed before him, and began to speak,

"Her lady Tyrande humbly asks apologies in the delay of her answer to your summons. A group of storms grounded our ships in our harbour, and she was only just able to send me to represent her." She said raising her head. Varian looked down at her, his expression still un-readable.

"And you might you be?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest. The Draenei beside him looked equally confused, but kept quiet. The night elf looked into his eyes, unblinking,

"I am Shandris Feathermoon, surrogate daughter to her lady Tyrande. I was sent in response to your summons for aid in a raid upon the Vrykul leaders based in Valgarde. Again, I apologise for my lateness." She said, rising to her feet. Her expression turned from determination to slightly confused when Varian raised an eyebrow, a curious expression now upon his own features.

"I see. And what of lady Shadowsong. I assume she made it out to sea before you?" He said, shifting in his chair, while drumming the fingers of his right hand on the armrest of his throne. His look of bemused interested increased when Shandris took a step back.

"Maiev was here?" She asked, trying to erase the shocked look from her face, and failing miserably.

"Of course. She came in response to my summons. I assume her lady Tyrande did not tell you she was sending you both?" He said, leaning a little further back in his chair.

"Us both? That bitch is a traitor to the night elf nation!" She said, barely controlling the anger in her voice. If at all possible, Varian eyebrow arched a little higher. "When did she get here? Where is she? I'll execute her myself!" She said, her voice rising.

Varian looked at her quizzically. "I'm sorry my lady Shandris, but was it not Maiev who helped kill Illidan?" He asked. Shandris stared up at him,

"That makes no difference. She is a traitor! She attacked our lady Tyrande! She endangered the life of lord Malfurion!" She yelled, no longer controlling the anger in her voice. She swore to herself in her mind, she'd never been one for politics. Varian chuckled at her, enjoying her frantic behaviour. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again,

"So, you're telling me that Tyrande didn't send Maiev when I requested help? She sent you, and Maiev simply showed up out of nowhere and had knowledge of the request?" he said, speculatively. Shandris swore under her breath,

"The bitch was the leader of the watchers. I wouldn't be surprised if one of the watcher still loyal to her tipped her off." She said through gritted teeth. Varian nodded, and Shandris began to pace quickly in front of his throne. The Draenei ambassador looked on, his expression unreadable. He cleared his throat and spoke,

"And why would lady Shadowsong even bother responding to the summons? What possible reason could she have to come here? She clearly has access to transportation if she managed to get here at all, so it doesn't make sense." He said, his pale blue eyes shinning, his face scrunched in thought.

"I don't know. The woman was a prisoner of Illidan's for over two years. She's probably insane. All I need to know is where she's staying. I'll personally execute her here and now. I'll need a detachment of guards to help, with your permission of course." She said, regarding Varian. Varian smiled. He liked this woman, dryly rational to a point of impracticality.

'Well, if what you say is true, then I see no problem with that. However, Mistress Shadowsong has already left Stormwind for Northrend. In fact, she left several days ago, the same day the ports were closed from the scourge attack. You've no doubt seen the damages." He said. While he'd spoken, Shandris had made several attempts to interrupt him, but he raised his voice an octave higher to re-enforce it. Now that he'd finished…

"She left! You let Maiev go?" She said, her voice barely under control.

"You must understand, Mistress Feathermoon, that we had no knowledge of Maiev status as a refugee from the Kaldorei justice system. If your lady Tyrande had agreed to our shared information pact, perhaps this wouldn't have happened." He said, shifting in his throne and placing his chin on his right hand. Shandris glared at him for a split second, and Varian must have missed it, as he said nothing. "However, you were not summoned here to capture Maiev, you were summoned to help eliminate the Vrykul leaders based near Valgarde. Now, if you please, may we discuss that?"

Shandris opened her mouth to protest, then sighed and closed it, nodding her head.

"Excellent, Johnson, would you fetch a chair for our lady?" He asked.

"I'm fine standing." She replied, glancing at the ground.

Varian smiled, "Very well. So, down to business. In short, you and a dwarf, Brann Bronzebeard, who I'm sure you've heard of, in addition to an elf, Rict'thiel, who I doubt you've heard of, were to infiltrate Utgard keep, and assassinate any figures of importance and recover any information present pertaining to the scourge's military presence in Northrend," He said, shifting in his seat.

Shandris nodded, not really paying attention.

"Have you ever been to Northrend lady Feathermoon?" he asked.

"No, I can't say I have." She replied bitterly. Varian sighed,

"Well, there goes a good chance for you to detain Mistress Shadowsong. We could have teleported you there, but seeing as you've never been, you'll need to take a ship." He said. He signalled over a guard, whispered something in his ear, and returned his regard to the slender blue haired woman.

She paused for a moment. "When is the next ship leaving?" She asked.

Varian paused to think a moment, "Well, a standard military transport leaves in three days, but a civilian transport leave today. Actually, it should be casting off right about now. It's equipped with the first long distance communication crystals the Draenei used. The ship I sent the others on was supposed to be outfitted with one, but it left before we could install it. Oh." He said. The guard had returned, bearing two small badges with the symbol of the alliance designed into it. "You'll want one of these, a requisition badge. And give this one to Rict'thiel when you manage to find them. He'll doubtlessly need one as well."

Shandris, who'd already been moving towards the door when Varian had mentioned the ship was leaving as they spoke, did a double take and moved to take the two badges from the guard. She did a quick bow, "Thank you my lord."

Varian nodded, "Yes." He said. He expression was amused interest and Shandris took it as her cue to leave. She dashed out the doors at breakneck speeds. Varian called after her, "And if you should find Maiev before the mission is finished, please, wait until you've accomplished the mission before you kill her!" His voice echoed through his audience chamber, accompanied with a mildly stressed chuckle.

----------oOo----------

-Two Hours Earlier-

Venst walked into his home, extremely grateful that it had survived that scourge attack unscathed. "Check, Melida, I'm home! I got held up in the Auberdine harbour because of a bad storm." He called out. His voice bounced off the walls of the small home, and he moved towards the kitchen when he didn't get an answer. Check sat at the table, eating a bowl of watch appeared to be oatmeal.

"Hey dad." He said, a quiet calmness to his voice. Venst smiled at him, moving to the sink and pumping the tap until some water came out. He caught it in a cup before taking a large drink. Wiping his mouth he said,

"Hello Check. Where's your sister?" He said, placing the cup on the counter. Check shrugged his shoulders, and continued to eat his oatmeal. 'What do you mean you don't know?" Venst asked, moving towards the table.

"I mean I don't know. She left a note saying she went to see that elf who'd come down to the kitchen somewhere, and then she never came home." He said, taking another bite and swallowing. "I left for Goldshire that day. Didn't come back until they started letting people back into the city two days later. Couldn't find her." He said, shrugging again. Venst placed his pack on the table and turned to his son.

"What do you mean you couldn't find her?" He asked his voice very quiet and tight. Check to a swig of milk before responding,

"I couldn't find her. For all I know she could be anywhere. Hell, she could have hopped ship with all the people down at the docks who'd made a dash for the sea. I looked for her okay? I even checked in with those damn goblins she's so fond of. Little twit probably got herself killed during the att-" Check didn't get to finish his sentence. Venst had struck him in the jaw. The food he'd been chewing fell out of his mouth and onto the table.

"You will not talk about your sister that way." Venst said, a dangerous tone flowing through every word. Check didn't seem to here, instead massaging his jaw,

"It's not my fault the little twit like messing around with vermin. She probably thought she could make friends with the scourge who attacked. Damn half elf bitch has no sense about her and sh-" Venst punched him in the chest with an extreme speed that Check had never seen before. The blow sent him toppling over in his chair, his oatmeal falling on top of him. The glass of milk tipped over as the table shook and landed in his eyes.

He struggled to his feet, his arms raised, ready to block another blow, only to find Venst gone. He could hear thumping upstairs, and he looked back down at the spilt oatmeal. He began picking it up when Venst appeared again. The both stopped and glared each other before Venst spoke,

"It doesn't matter if she isn't completely human. She's a good girl and your sister. You have no right to treat her the way you do." He said, his voice very quiet and tight. Check glared at him,

"Whatever." He muttered, going back to the oatmeal at hand. Venst strode passed him and pulled a drawer completely out of its socket. He reached in and turned a knob, and a small hatch fell down from the drawers just above the counter on the left of the sink. A small pouch lay inside, and it jangled heavily with the sound of coins. Check looked up and saw Venst tying it to a leather belt. It went on the left side, beside a jewelled blade Check had never seen before. "Where did…"

"How many ships left during the attack?" Venst asked, cutting him off. He moved to the pantry and slid his finger along the side, then along another crack on the other side. The top of the pantry fell down, and a leather top fell out. Pulling over his head, he listened to Check's answer.

"I don't kn-" Venst cut him off again,

"Don't fuck with me boy. Think, where did the damn ship go?" He yelled, reaching into the compartment and pulling out what appeared to be a small toolkit out. He slid that into the belt, it seemingly fitting it with the rest of the belt's occupants.

"I- uh. The only ship that left that day was the one with Kevin on it. He said it was heading towards… Val guardian something. Northrend or whatever."He said again, wiping the milk form his face, his expression still shocked.

Venst made his way to the door, "Tell Josh he's in charge of the kitchen's while I'm gone. If I don't come back, the job is his until you can learn to smarten up." And with that, he bolted out the door, leaving it wide open in his wake. However wide the door was though, it came nowhere near as wide as Check's mouth.

----------oOo----------

Rupy and Geezle stood outside what remained of their bathhouse. They'd already gone over the numbers, and they couldn't even come close to paying for repairs. The whole thing would need to be rebuilt, and they simply didn't have the money. Geezle starred at it wistfully. Rupy was quiet, and she placed her bag of medical equipment on the ground beside her. The both looked at each other, then to the cart containing all the blacksmithing equipment the Geezle had saved or salvaged from the fire.

"You're sure this is the best idea?" He finally asked his wife. Rupy nodded, turning to him. She gave him a quiet hug followed by a kiss on the cheek which he returned. She patted him on the shoulder,

"Ricket says she's making a killing up at K3. She's even arranged for a gyrocopter to pick us up at Valgarde. We can't ignore that. Besides, there's not much left for us here." She said. Geezle sighed, and pulled out one of his cigars. Lighting it up, he passed it to Rupy, who took a long drag. Taking it back he said,

"Just wish we could say goodbye to that kid. I don't feel right leaving her like this." He said. Rupy sighed,

"Me neither, but we need to get to the ship now. There's just no time. Besides, her brother sad she wasn't home. We- we can't go searching through the city for her." She said, suppressing a sniff. Geezle passed her the cigar, and she held onto it this time. She began to take a deep drag when a man with flaming red hair tore past the both of them at unreal speeds. Without stopping to apologise, he kept running. Geezle helped Rupy regain her balance. Neither of them were particularly old given how goblins live, but Rupy had always been fragile.

"Asshole." He said, calling after him once Rupy had regained her footing. Rupy brushed her beige dress a little before picking up her bag.

"C'mon, we're going to miss the boat." She said. Geezle sighed, and took the cigar back from her. He grabbed the handle to his cart, and the two of them made they're way slowly towards the Stormwind city docked. Rupy left the occasional tear on the ground behind her as they went.

----------oOo----------

-Present-

Shandris tore through the streets, stopping only to orient herself and start again towards the magic district. Racing through the trade district as a short cut, she saw how badly it had been ravaged. One building, a bathhouse from the look of its sign, stood apart form the rest. While the others were being repaired, this one appeared striped and abandoned. Shandris didn't take time to ponder over it. Instead, she pulled her quiver tighter to her back and pushed her bow a little deeper into its harness.

Sliding around a turn, she jumped over a cart carrying bags of wheat. The cart driver yelled at her, but she was already gone before he could finish his sentence. She ducked into an ally, and stopped when two large men stepped in her path. Both wore belts that signified them as members of the Defias Brotherhood. Shandris had heard of these people before.

"Well lookee here Jim. Seems a little sweetum's wandered intu'h our midst." He said, nudging the other. He laughed, his breath revolting as he leaned into Shandris' face.

"Yeah, guess she has. What ye think we should do wi-" He didn't finish his sentence. A blade had a appeared in Shandris' hand and it was now lodged in beneath the man neck, shoved up into his skull. Shandris pulled the blade out and looked at the other man. He turned tail and ran. Shandris broke into a run after him, jumping onto his back and impaling the back of his head with the blade. As he crashed to the ground, she leaped from his back and continued her sprint towards the docks.

She broke around several more turns before passing through the underpass that led to the docks. She sped up, and burst into the sunlight at the other end. Not stopping she dashed for the ramp that lead down the cliff to the harbour. She could see the only ship in the docks, and it was casting off, the last of the ropes being tossed onto its deck. Shandris swore under breath and pushed her body faster.

"Wait!" She yelled, her quiver jumping as she bolted as fast as her legs would carry her. She felt some of the arrows spill out but kept running. Her eyes scanned the rest of the ramps. They stretched out for half a kilometre before winding its way down to the docks. She swore.

If she hadn't been running close to the edge she wouldn't have looked over the edge and saw the stall. What appeared to be a small shop was set up at the base of the wall, some two hundred feet down. Strong wooden poles kept it up, but it wasn't the shop that interested her. It was the roof. The roof was the standard red and white cloth you see at bazaars and it was anchored into a slant by the wooden supports. Shandris took a deep breath.

Then pitched herself over the side of the ramp. Time seemed to slow down as she was in free fall, the two hundred feet slidding by agonizingly slowly. Halfway down she realised what a stupid idea that had been. Now she was going to die, and Maiev was going to get away. And then she landed on the roof. The entire thing caved in, but it absorbed most of the impact from her fall, leaving her practically unharmed save for a gash in her arm from one of the splintered supports and a deep bruise on the left of her rump.

Yelling apologies to the stunned shopkeeper a few feet away, she ran limping towards the boat. It was pulling out of the harbour. He dashed down the dock. It was several feet out now. She put her last ounce of energy into her legs.

'Wait!!" She screamed, but the ship kept going. She burst into one last sprint. She hit the end of the dock, but the ship was ten feet out now. A sailor on board was looking at her confused. Shandris kept running, hit the end of the dock, and jumped.

Oo-----------oO

Well, there's a slight intermission chapter. I wrote this all in one day after reading Cyrus' review. Gotta say, it was very inspirational. And helpful. I don't have the story arc finished, and I'm still trying to figure out how to make what I want to do with the Characters mesh. As for chapter 3, I'm going to look into that and adjust Varian's response appropriately. As for Jaina, well she was involved with Kael'thas when she attended Dalaran, and I figured she would have been extremely shocked by his betrayal. He wasn't always bad. I'm also putting more effort into Maiev, as she was supposed to be very important, but I feel that Ridania kind of stole her spotlight. As you can tell, she's got some demons, no pun intended, and she's kind of socially retarded at the moment.

Rict'thiel's past will be revealed in time, when I can figure out how to make it mesh. As for Ridania, well, let's say she's a little more involved with Rict'thiel's and Melida's past then you might think.

The whole point of the attack on Utgard is simple. Get the characters out on an adventure. Now if they ever even get to Utgard is another question, but you'll have to wait and find out. Remember, not everything goes as planned.

Finally, Melida is going to be extremely important later in the story. Not from a lore perspective, but a character one. I'm still toying with placing her into the bit of lore concerning… well you'll have to wait again.

Anyway, thanks for the in depth review Cyrus. Very useful.

I'll try to finish the story arc soon.

Until next time, Just Corey

PS: And of course, Fanfic needed to have technical difficulties with my account just as I finished this. Damnit…