Syrise perked a long blonde brow, gloved fingers tapping the tops of her cards. Across the table from her, Khail had a very smug smile. She hated that old man's smile. It meant she was going to lose another game.

"We cannot wait forever, Miss Duskstrider," He quipped nonchalantly, "You will have to play a card sooner or later."

"I'm thinking!" Syrise spat back, scowling at her cards.

She glanced over at her small pool of glowing mana gems. She had six to use, but both of the minions in her hand cost four. She did have a spell that could injure all enemy minions costing only two, but Khail's side of the board was clear. He seemed to prefer a direct attack method most of the time. She'd always found direct attacks too risky, preferring to hide herself behind a wall of dragons. Though, of course, getting them to stay on the board was the tricky part in this game.

"Do you intend to skip your turn?" Khail asked in amusement.

"Nope, I'm not dead yet," Syrise mumbled, deciding to just summon her one dragon with rush.

It wouldn't be able to attack yet, but at least it would give him another target to consider. Khail chuckled, watching as a miniature version of the dragon appeared over the card once she set it down on the board. It gave a tiny roar, which surely would've been menacing to his minions if he had any.

"My turn?" Khail perked an eyebrow.

Syrise grumbled and waved a hand at him to proceed. Khail drew acard, still smiling, and immediately set it on the board.

"I will activate this spell for two temporary additional mana stones," He said coolly as two glittering mana stones appeared next to his primary pool.

"How much does that one cost to use?" Syrise asked, eyeing his mana stones.

"Nothing," He chuckled, reaching for another card in his hand, "Now, I shall use seven of my mana stones to summon this Ancient. And because I've previously completed my quest, both abilities are activated. So my Ancient's attack and health both become ten, and it also gains taunt. I will then use my last two mana to play this card and summon two dyrads with lifesteal-"

"Okay, I quit," Syrise huffed, throwing her cards down, "You win again, big guy."

Khail chuckled as the creatures on the board disappeared in a small puff of sparkles.

"Remind me, that makes how many wins?" Khail asked innocently.

"Ugh, seven," Syrise grumbled, sinking down in her chair and crossing her arms, "But I did win the first game!"

"That you did," Khail nodded as he began to shuffle his deck, "Shall we play once more?"

"I guess so," Syrise sighed, sitting up and snatching up her deck, "There's nothing else to do around here, after all."

"Hmm, have you tried introducing yourself to some of the other druids?" He asked, looking around the inn, "I'm sure you could find someone willing to play a round with you."

"Hard pass," Syrise scoffed, shuffling her deck roughly, "They'd all probably accuse me of cheating or something."

"Hm? Why do you say that?" Khail asked, cocking his large head to the side.

"Because I'm a sin'dorei," Syrise shrugged, setting her deck down beside the board.

Khail just perked a thick eyebrow curiously, so she continued.

"You know, the kaldorei all think I'm an abomination," She shrugged, "And the Gilneans are suspicious of everybody by default."

"What of my people?" Khail suggested, glancing back across the Horde side of the inn, "Or the trolls?"

"All the trolls want to do is drink," She grumbled, "And, no offense, but most tauren are a little bit too… traditional for me."

"Hmm," Khail grunted curiously, "It sounds like you are missing the companionship of your own kind."

"Oh, no no," Syrise quickly shook her head, "You know how the kaldorei hate me? Well, double it for other sin'dorei."

Khail perked an eyebrow and Syrise simply shrugged, looking aside.

"Let's just say there aren't a lot of former Farstriders walking around for a reason," She mumbled under her breath, before leaning forward on the edge of the table, "Anyway! Ready for the next match, big guy? I've got a good feeling about this one!"

Khail hummed, seeing her clear transition away from the topic, and nodded. Syrise picked up her copper coin from the edge of the table and flipped it into the air.

"Call it," She grunted towards Khail.

"Heads," He said before looking past Syrise's shoulder, "Hm?"

Syrise perked an eyebrow curiously, nearly missing her cue to catch the coin. She quickly slapped it against the back of her hand and peeked at it.

"Hah! Tails!" She beamed, "Finally! I get to go first!"

Just as she drew her card, Khail stood up, moving past the table.

"First I'm gonna play-huh? Wait, where are you going?" She asked quickly, turning around in her seat to see what he was so caught up with.

A group of injured night elves were entering the mouth of the inn. Some were wrapped in bangadges, others were laid on makeshift stretchers. Syrise perked an eyebrow, the other tables around her going quiet as everyone watched the new arrivals.

"What's going on?" Syrise asked a tauren at the table closest to hers, "Who are these people?"

"Likely more refugees from Lor'danel," The tauren answered, "Many people have been displaced by the destruction in Darkshore, and survivors often come to the Circle for healing of more serious injuries."

Syrise nodded in thanks, looking back towards the group. She looked at the haggard faces of the night elves and couldn't help feeling a bit of sympathy for them, despite the tensions between their peoples. Some things, tragedies especially, were beyond race. That was probably why druids from all four corners of the inn came forward, asking how they could help.

As Syrise looked between the survivors, suddenly she caught sight of something and her eyes widened. She stood up so quickly that her chair fell backwards against the floor.

"Mythene?" She gasped, hurrying over towards the fringes of the growing crowd.

She tried to push her way forward, but couldn't cut a path to the front. Looking around quickly, she hurried over to a table and leapt on top of it.

"Mythene!" She called over the rising din, waving her arms, "Mythene Moonshadow!"

Mythene flinched, no doubt having heard someone calling her name, and began to look about for the source of the voice.

"Mythe-"

Syrise was cut off as something grabbed her leg, pulling her down from the table in one swift gesture. She landed on her stomach on the floor and quickly turned her head to scowl up. Dargon, the innkeeper, was scowling back at her.

"Do not stand on my tables," He said in Orcish, his voice quiet yet somehow still able to clearly be heard through the noise.

"But I-"

Dargon narrowed his eyes, leaning down towards her.

"Do not stand on my tables," He repeated coldly, his tone threatening.

Syrise frowned and nodded, holding in her exasperated sigh. Dargon nodded back and walked off to his usual spot behind the counter. Syrise rolled her green eyes and quickly stood up, brushing the dust from her clothes. She then looked up towards the crowd, gasping as she saw the group beginning to move out of the inn.

"Mythene!" She called after the group, but received no response.

Syrise had no idea what was going on. Why was Mythene injured? And why was she alone? Where were Zami and Jazzy? Were they alright? Were they safe? Knowing she wouldn't get her answers by just standing around, she hurried to follow the crowd.