A/N: this is when the warriors of the night begin to assemble. Cue in our resident priestess of the moon, Issinia.
Issinia stood at the altar of the main temple in Darnassus, demurely casting her gaze down as the High Priestess of the Sisterhood of Elune, the leader of the Sentinels herself, finished the incantations for the ritual of soul binding. All of the night elf notables had gathered there, alongside her entire extended family and all of her friends. Absolute silence wafted over the gathered crowd as Narrus clasped her hands in his.
The High Priestess turned to Narrus. "Do you take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse?" she asked him.
Bright, silver eyes shone down at Issinia, casting light on that perfect face and illuminating the turquoise light beard as Narrus peered right into her soul. "I do," he said without hesitation.
Then the High Priestess turned to Issinia. "And do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse?" she asked Issinia.
She grinned wide, finally feeling the moment of her deflowering drawing near. "I do," Issinia whispered in response.
The High Priestess nodded in approval. "And do you confirm that your older brother shall marry a good girl from your mother's ancestral village, get a haircut and start wearing sweater vests?" she High Priestess asked without a hint of humor or jest.
"I do."
"And do you confirm that your younger brother's girlfriend shall forever be condemned as a harlot for questioning the institution of marriage, cast down in the Tree of Woe with the harpy spawn where she belongs?"
"I do."
"And do you confirm that anybody wearing purple leaves in their hair after Lunar Festival instead of green ones shall be condemned to fashion jail?"
"I do."
"And do you consent to take my place as High Priestess of all the Sentinels and mistress of all of Azeroth and Outland?"
"I do."
A standing ovation followed, with the crowd throwing garlands of peaceblooms and chocolate covered strawberries as she and Narrus kissed. Navarion was in the front row, weeping for joy as he smoothed back his proper shoulder length elven hair that had formerly been a mohawk.
"Thank you, Issa!" he cried as a shy archer from an isolated grove clung to his arm and leaned her head on his sweater vest. "I never thought I could become a gentleman before you repaired my brain!"
"Thank you, Issa!" Selia cried as she was led away in chains and a chastity belt by two huntresses. "I wish to be cured of my wickedness!"
"I'm more proud of you than all of your siblings, Issa!" her mother Cecilia cried while clinging to her father, who was also wearing a sweater vest.
Elune herself crashed the wedding party, riding down from the stars on the back of Malorne as everybody prostrated. "I bless everybody with scented candles!" the goddess announced as she caused glasses of non alcoholic egg nog to materialize on a table made of sterling silver.
Issinia and Narrus danced on floating discs of pure starlight, the heavens themselves fading away as nothing existed but the two of them. He held her close, and her mouth parted just as she was about to drink his lips-"
"Issa, stop snoring and wake up," Selia said while shaking her a little bit too roughly.
"Huh! No! No, where are my scented candles...huh...Selia?" Issinia mumbled as she rolled over.
Snapping her bleary eyes open, Issinia found the blurry image of her younger brother's girlfriend hanging over her bed. Murder sat in her mind briefly before a silent hymn calmed her down, and the urgent look on the woman's face grounded Issinia in reality.
"Selia, what's wrong?" she asked while rubbing her eyes.
Seriousness imprinted itself on Selia's face without mockery or contempt, and immediately she knew that something was very, very wrong. "Shari, Jalf, Henaia, Thelios, Kirana and Navarion are all gone, and me and Del just heard Henaia scream in the wind out back."
"By the night," Issinia gasped, forcing herself to wake back up despite her salty eyes and tired muscles. "Do we know where any of them went?"
Selia moved aside so they could both stand up, and when Issinia noticed that Selia had put on a leather jerkin beneath her winter coat, the seriousness became even more apparent. "Shari and Jalf went to check on Navarion's wards. Navarion and Kirana were downstairs but now we can't see them. Henaia and Thelios were gone since the end of dinner."
Every priestess was a sentinel, first and foremost; springing to her feat, Issinia tossed her pajamas aside and began donning her moon blessed silver armor in under a minute, not even bothering to look at Selia as they spoke. "How long ago did you two hear Henaia scream?" she asked while closing latches and clasps.
In another bizarre show of cooperation, Selia actually handed her a thicker cloak to wear over her armor in the cold. "Literally two minutes ago. I got dressed and came directly here. Del is waking up Narrus right now. We decided to leave Corra and Uniol sleeping so not everybody is outside at once."
Issinia leaned down to pull out the long, silver lance that once belonged to her grandmother; even if they were all on vacation, Azeroth was still a dangerous place filled with the craft of war. "That sounds...okay, but they should at least be warned about what's happening," she replied cautiously.
Selia held the door open for Issinia, her yew bow poking out from beneath her cloak. "Del will handle that; we know the drill," the suddenly less infuriating future sister in law said while followng Issinia out.
The two of them found both of the men reaching them on the second floor after only a few minutes. Tiondel brandished the rapier and rifle she'd grown used to seeing him with, while Narrus - one of the few older night elf men who hadn't been a druid - wore his heavy armor beneath his cloak. It was the first time Issinia had ever seen him dressed for combat, and as much as the thought of him being hurt scared her, the way he looked when he was so serious excited her as well.
"Del told my everything, and Corra and Uniol are in the process of waking up," Narrus said, calm and patient as he always was.
Satisfied by the confirmation, Issinia was already turning to hurry down the ramp. "Did they barricade their door?" she asked as the others followed.
Tiondel gave a cynical shake of his head. "They're preparing their gear, though neither of them have ever fought before," he said, already drawing his rapier. "What's the plan, then, once we go out here?"
Though Issinia was about to answer herself, she looked toward Narrus, who had been born during immortality and thus had seen his share of combat. He noticed, and without returning her look spoke while they bounded across the ground floor toward the back foyer of the lodge, just behind the atrium and on the other side of a hallway from the kitchen. "Mister Montanha warned us that he'd seen trespassers; even if they yield, I don't think there's any reason to be gentle."
They found themselves before the back door, and although the wind didn't feel rough or batter the lodge, it whistled loudly from outside. "Then we can feel the situation out; if they fight, we fight," Issinia said as she reached to pen the back door. "Selia, stay in the middle, in front of Narrus. He and I can hold any potential enemies at bay; you and Del can pick them off."
Without an ounce of defiance, Selia just nodded. "Understood," she replied, and almost appeared subdued for once.
Squeezing the handle, Issinia pulled and opened the door. Snow fell on her coat, but not at a particularly high speed; visibility was low, but the velocity of the wind didn't pose any danger. Holding her lance out in front of her, she waited for the other three to exit and close the door behind them. Once the others were ready, she whispered a prayer asking for starlight, channeling the power of the White Lady as she asked for their path to be illuminated.
Rather than a beam, a simple otherworldly light dwindled from the treetops in the form of orbs. Wisps bounded about, swirling around the group like planets orbiting a sun as they formed a sort of enlightened shield. The snow became more visible, and the ultravision provided by everybody's nocturnal eyes helped to paint them a perfectly clear, accurate picture despite the dead of night all around them.
Issinia didn't need to scan the area for long before noticing that a struggle had occurred. "White Lady forgive us all, there's blood in one of the moonwells!" she gasped, raising her voice so that the others could hear her.
"Any fel taint?" Tiondel asked. Being closer to their father's ways, he was more in tune with the spirits than the balance, and couldn't always recognize demonic corruption.
"No, none. It's strange...there seems to be no corruption at all. There's mana residue...wait...drainage. Somebody drained mana from another person, I can sense it."
Selia's ears pricked up beneath her hooded cloak. "Me too...there's only a little, almost like some was spilled...a warlock, maybe?" she asked.
Issinia shook her head as they all approached in formation. "No, not possible; the fel taint would linger for a very long time. But I don't sense any, nor do I see Henaia or Thelios...there's blood, but no bodies. Perhaps they were attacked, and then captured..."
Tiondel snorted his disagreement. "And taken where? In a storm like this, they wouldn't get far, nor-"
"Wait," Narrus ordered, causing everyone to fall silent.
All four of them crouched, listening to the whistle of the wind. Raspy, almost whiny breathing reached Issinia's ears across the air, and the wisps that were floating around them became visibly agitated, swirling around them at higher speeds as more wisps descended from the trees and hovered over a single bush. Issinia didn't need to take a second glance before she saw white feet and ankles in between the leaves near the bottom of the bush.
"There!" she hissed while pointing, though before she'd even extended her finger an arrow flew right into the target. Selia notched a second when the white figure screamed, and all four of them tensed up when the scream was echoed from all around them.
Like a pack of wolves, the vaguely bipedal forms leapt toward them, digging their fingers into the snow for greater traction like apes. Even the one that Selia had shot tried to charge, falling into a writhing heap but somehow forcing itself back up into a steady limp. Awkward cries like monkeys being strangled came at them from every direction, and Tiondel deftly switched from his rapier to his rifle, fired off a shot into the abdomen of one of the white figures, and then switched back to his rapier in time to skewer its entire head when it didn't stop charging.
To say that Issinia was entirely calm would have been an exaggeration, but the advantage was clearly theirs. She poked the figures near their hips and knees with her lance to cripple them, and Narrus sliced at their thighs with his naginata as their thighs to topple them over. Arrows flew like the raging snow as Selia emptied a quarter of her quiver, and Tiondel swiftly finished off the creatures that were injured by Issinia and Narrus. One, two, four, eight of the creatures had fallen dead before the screeches drifted further away, and the wisps followed after the white figures for a distance before returning to Issinia. Black blood stained the snow as the corpses laid bleeding, and everyone held their ground for a few seconds before relaxing.
"The wisps have returned...the rest of the creatures fled," Issinia shouted over the wind.
"How many survived?" Selia asked.
Reaching for the balance again, Issinia received the answers of the wisps in the form of ideas and concepts rather than words. "Only three, but there might be more. They're too far for me to detect them now; they're fast, whatever they are."
Tiondel reached down and cut the arms off of one before stabbing it in the throat and lifting it with his rapier to get a better look at it. Despite the gruesome nature of the act, she knew it was a wise precaution lest the creature not be entirely dead.
His eyes widened. "I think this is...this is-"
The wind had died down just enough for them all to hear him clearly. Unfortunately, his revelation about the white figure was cut off by another such screech - this time from inside the house.
Only half a second's hesitation lingered in the air before Issinia panicked. "Corra!" she cried, casting a single blessing on the blood tainted moonwell before dashing back toward the read door of the lodge.