The Romancer Opalbane

Episode Seventeen: Escape from Stormwind, Part Three: So many ladies, so little time

"I'm sorry, rogue. I've done everything that I can to help." The rose-skinned Night Elf priestess put a comforting hand on Alessandre's shoulder. He kept rocking Opalbane back and forth, saying nothing.

"I bet you wouldn't guess it at first because we're so different, but… I actually knew Opalbane." The priestess continued, laughing nervously. "Well, she didn't really have any friends at the Temple, but we took lessons together. It is nice to see that she finally met someone."

"She is going to live, right?" Alessandre interrupted the priestess. She'd introduced herself as Bishune, many times, but Alessandre wasn't in the state of mind to remember it.

"I've done all that I can to heal her body. I'm afraid that the problem is with her mana though… I have no way of helping with that. That mana must be diseased… If so, it's the worst case of it I've ever seen. Somehow, it's also affecting her health and she's losing it steadily now. I'm surprised that she survived this long."

"It's a good thing you are heading to Darnassus, then." Another female Night Elf stood behind Bishune. Alessandre didn't remember this one's name either. Since Alessandre called for help and the Priestess of Elune came, all the women on the ship suddenly felt like they were invited into the captain's cabin. For some reason, the men on the ship had not cared to go into his room. On some level it made sense, since everyone else on the ship normally had to share a room. Alessandre had bribed the captain to let Opalbane and himself take over his private cabin to keep away from prying eyes, however. "All she probably needs is to be dunked in a moonwell. And Darnassus has got plenty of those." Hadn't Opalbane complained that Priestess Feathershine wanted to heal her in exactly that primitive fashion? That was precisely why the shadowpriestess had gone to her colleagues at the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind. Alessandre tried not to think of what would happen to his charge if the Priestesses of Elune were way off the mark in their treatments.

"Have you tried anti-venom?" a wide-eyed gnome woman sat cross-legged on the bed next to Alessandre. She smiled sadly at him and patted his hand.

Through his grief, Alessandre got the strange feeling that he was being ogled. He closed his eyes against the hungry gazes. Always… it's always been like this… he wondered if he could trust any of these women to be sincere. Then, pain sprang anew in his heart. The only sincere woman in his life lay motionless in his arms. She was fading from this world, and fast.

"What did you say your name was, again?" A female Night Elf rogue leaned back in the corner of the room. Alessandre didn't have to look at her. He'd already checked… it wasn't any rogue that he knew.

"You're standing on my cat." He grumbled, trying to dodge the question.

"What? That huge epic mount is in this room? Why can't we see him?" the

Gnome asked, alarmed. Alessandre was annoyed at how close the little woman was sitting next to him. He could swear that each time he looked over, the Gnome was an inch closer to his thigh than she was before. Sadly, Alessandre realized that he couldn't prove it.

"Starshatter shadowmelded… and is sleeping very deeply." He answered the wary rogue quickly.

That's when the woman rogue's eyes went wide. "I've seen your stealthing mount before! I was there when you killed that Human monster named Alessandre who was with the Defias raid on Sentinel Hill in Westfall a few years back… rumor has it you took his name as a prize for killing him. You aren't the Alessandre are you?"

The women in the room exchanged startled looks.

The woman rogue screamed. "It's you! It's really you! This is the one I was telling you girls all about. Remember what I said late last night, when we were swapping stories? A Night Elf rogue was alone on a ship just like this one with a woman…" she nodded eagerly to the other female travelers, and slowly realization lit up their faces.

"Wait, did I say my mount was stealthing… err… I meant that he's not here at all. Starshatter hates boats and jumped overboard a few days back." Alessandre was so worried about Opalbane that he couldn't focus. He was failing to keep his story straight.

"Did you really… I mean, every night for two weeks, did you really go to her and—"

"Yes!" Alessandre defended himself to the woman who asked about his libido. "Why is that so hard to believe? Some men have bigger appetites than others… and we were the only two people on the ship. There was nothing else to do." He shrugged, and tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. He never was a braggart, but Alessandre felt a little pain in his chest each time he downplayed his excellent equipment.

The Gnome stared at him, wide-eyed. "I was once stuck on the Deeprun Tram when it broke down between Stormwind and Ironforge and the other Gnome there just giggled at me for three whole hours! He was cute, too! How come other men aren't like you?" she sounded terribly upset about this.

"The man at my work won't even talk to me!" a Human woman chimed in. "And, if I hike up my skirt just one more inch, I don't think they'll let me sell cheese anymore!"

"What does the length of your skirt have to do with selling cheese?" another Human woman objected. She had an odd gothic look about her, almost like Opalbane, except Opalbane was naturally pale and had dark markings around her eyes and on her lips.

"Hey, don't judge me! Just what do you do for a living?" the cheese lady challenged.

"I summon people." The sultry Human warlock answered. "But, business has been bad since the Burning Crusade began though… when they started letting people use the meeting stones outside of instances. I met my husband at a summoning, you know." She sighed with disappointment. "It's been three years since we've had a night anything near the two weeks you spent with that woman." She gave Alessandre half a smile, but even so, it promised far too much.

"How did you do it!" the female Night Elf rogue demanded. "I've heard lots of other stories about you too, but I just thought it was gossip… But all those rumors are true, aren't they?"

Alessandre tried to object, but he was cut off again.

"Do you even have to ask?" the Gnome squeaked and put her little hands on her hips. Alessandre was shocked to see that she was almost sitting right on top of his leg now. "You all saw him hanging in the breeze out there, just like I did. And I almost got stepped on in the rush to come in here and—"

"That's enough!" Alessandre cringed. He couldn't believe that he actually liked this kind of attention from women only a month ago. Now, the shallow fighting over him was making him feel sick.

"Thank you for helping me with Opalbane, but I think she should rest now." It took a lot of glaring, but finally the women got up from around the bed and started to leave. Now, Alessandre feared he understood why. "You too." He narrowed his eyes at the Night Elf priestess named Bishune when she stayed near Opalbane.

"I… uh… well, you have my numbers." Call me she mouthed, and slipped out the door.

Alessandre frowned. He hadn't remembered taking the woman's level and coordinates. But then, he saw it scrawled onto his arm in black ink. It definitely wasn't his handwriting.

"For goddess' sake, you'd better wake up! I don't want to live in a world without you, Opalbane!" Alessandre pleaded to the motionless woman, and wasn't joking about it in any measure. In her own way, the spooky but compassionate shadowpriestess had ruined Alessandre for other women.

But Opalbane did not get better. She didn't open her eyes again during the two weeks they were at sea. The overly amiable women checked in regularly, helping Alessandre to feed Opalbane what they could, and get her to drink fresh water. Someone even volunteered to bathe her regularly. Alessandre expertly left the room before the woman could finish asking if he wanted to join them.

It terrified Alessandre that he'd tried to save Opalbane, but nothing he did to help her was working. For all his thousands of years of life, he felt like an idiot, which was unsettling. He cursed his fel mana day after day, for enabling him to kill people, not heal people.

At last, the long days on the ship passed until only one remained. Alessandre took Priestess Bishune aside and asked her to do him a favor. If she rushed ahead by Hippogryph to alert Priestess Feathershine of their emergency arrival, preparations could be made that would buy back precious time for Opalbane. Priestess Bishune listened intently but then shook her head, no. She then leaned in and whispered a counter-offer in Alessandre's ear.

Alessandre's eyes went wide as he listened to more and more of what she wanted. "No, goddamit! Just do it out of the kindness of your heart, or she'll die. I'm not doing you any kinky favors!" he flared at her. Bishune regretfully agreed to help them for nothing and left the cabin.

Alessandre pressed his cheek against Opalbane's forehead. "No wonder you didn't have any friends growing up. Were all the women in your classes such selfish witches like that one?" he consoled the unconscious Opalbane. He ignored the sinking feeling that his empathy was too little, and come too late.

Later, at the Temple of Elune in Darnassus...

"Priestess Feathershine?"

The majestic Priestess of Elune looked up from her work. Her rose colored eyelids drooped drowsily and she yawned over the stack of novices' exams she had been grading. They were terrible. Maybe High Priestess Tyrande had finally allowed Feathershine to come away from investigating Furblogs in the starting area, but it had already been too much time away. The Priestess' long punishment for the fiasco in Stormwind was over, but too many people had suffered for it. Not only had countless novice soldiers of the Alliance been traumatized by her vengeful diatribes in Dolanaar, her novice priestesses had forgot many of their lessons. Feathershine's characteristic stringent instruction and merciless discipline had been gravely misplaced. She hoped that she could retire before that generation of Night Elves in Dolanaar grew up and started to raid dungeons. Those poor younglings would never look at Holy priests the same way again… how many of them had fled from her in terror when she took pity on their insistent stupidity and tried to heal them?

"Yes dear." Feathershine yawned again at her visitor. She excused herself, raising an emerald eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but I'm very busy right now… Bishune! I haven't seen you in ages, what are you doing here?"

Bishune curtsied. "I have an urgent message from Alessandre." She pronounced his name spitefully. "He's on his way here with Priestess Opalbane and says they are going to need your help."

"Oh my!" Priestess Feathershine got up from her desk. After Bishune explained the details of Opalbane's condition, Feathershine urged the woman onward. "Please, do Alessandre one last favor and go tell Master Rogue Shadowstep. He needs to know as well."

Bishune grumbled something about not even getting a kiss out of the deal, but she left the temple before Priestess Feathershine could ask what she meant.

Priestess Feathershine, Master Rogue Shadowstep, and a slew of Feathershine's novices waited nervously on the pier at Ruth'eran Village it seemed, forever. Bishune's hippogryph had been very swift, buying the precious minutes they needed to make the careful preparations for the ailing Opalbane. After, they had just enough time to rush out and meet the boat. Finally, as it always did, the ship suddenly appeared on the horizon when no one was looking. Then, it sailed proud and fast before docking a few minutes later.

Feathershine hardly breathed as she watched other Night Elves, who were strangers, stroll casually off the boat.

"He missed the boat." Shadowstep observed cynically. He was unusually grumpy.

Alessandre was the last one off the ship. He cradled Opalbane protectively in his arms. The sun set rapidly the way it always does in Azeroth and cast dramatic shadows over them both. Opalbane's pale white arm slipped free and hung limp, swinging in the air beyond Alessandre's grasp. Her head lilted back too and Alessandre struggled to support it. The handsome rogue's face was torn with grief. He walked very slowly, not even looking at Feathershine when she waved to him.

"Here, let me take her for you." Priestess Feathershine offered, and her novices flew in at her sides like ducklings, ready to help.

Alessandre paused then, and looked at Priestess Feathershine like she was a monster. "And hand her over to the person that made her feel like she had to run halfway across the world just to become a priestess, all by herself? Oh, and you're also the same person who made her feel like she could only recover far away from the Temple of Elune, where the priestess of the Light wouldn't look down their noses at her." Priestess Feathershine looked deeply hurt by Alessandre's words.

"Let me examine her, Alessandre." Shadowstep stubbornly insisted, and he reached in for Opalbane, but Alessandre wrenched free of his guild leader as well.

"I'm taking her up into Teldrassil, then you can have her. It's what I promised." He insisted illogically. He did not seem like the clear-minded, quick-thinking rogue who wisely enlisted the help of a Priestess of Elune to warn Feathershine hours earlier. The others began to worry what had happened in the last few hours.

"Alessandre…" Shadowstep warned menacingly.

"Hush!" Priestess Feathershine nudged her boyfriend in the side. She banished the pain from her face and began to command her novices. Feathershine sent a good amount of them running to complete useless tasks to keep from thinking about Alessandre's cruel words. She knew that grief did horrible things to people.

At Priestess Feathershine's insistence, everyone gave Alessandre a wide berth as he walked solemnly up the path to the humming violet portal that transported people up to the top of Teldrassil, and into the safety of Darnassus. Two stoic Sentinels came to life and saluted Master Rogue Shadowstep and Priestess Feathershine smartly as they passed.

When Alessandre opened his eyes again, the portal had brought him to the top of Teldrassil, and the comforting calm of Darnassus was everywhere about him.

"You're home." He cradled Opalbane to himself, and kissed her forehead, then each of her cheeks. "You're home. I'm so sorry, Opal. This was the best that I could do." His voice broke and he knelt there in the street, exhausted. The novices rushed in to help him.

"It's too late, it's too late." Alessandre kept insisting, but Feathershine broke through the young girls tugging at her and felt Opalbane's pulse herself. Then, stifling a cry, the Priestess of Elune swept her hand the length of Opalbane's still body, daring to check again with her powers.

"No… she has a little in her left yet. But we have only moments." Feathershine concluded hopefully. "Hurry off, now!" she shouted sternly to her novices. This time, Alessandre let them take Opalbane away. Priestess Feathershine placed a loving hand on Alessandre's cheek, thanked him, then rushed off after her girls.

Master Rogue Shadowstep came and stood in front of Alessandre last. The man's silent gaze felt oppressive on Alessandre's shoulders.

"Your contract is not up yet. I didn't expect you so early." Shadowstep rolled his shoulders. Many Night Elves had begun to age of late, though horribly. Shadowstep was an excellent exception to that though. His clearly defined jaw lent a sharp edge to his features that went well with his reputation as a hard as steel leader of the Kaldorei rogue network. "There are still three more weeks in this month," he continued in his harsh whisper, "and I haven't heard any reports of cultists' heads rolling. With sea voyages to and from Menethil Harbor taking two weeks at the least, just how do you intend to travel back to Stormwind in time and resolve all this!" Considering that Alessandre just thought Opalbane was dead, the Master Rogue's insistence on the mission seemed truly heartless. Shadowstep's dark green ponytail swung fiercely as he shook his head with disappointment.

Alessandre seethed at the apathetic reception his employer and guild leader gave. Then, something occurred to the handsome rogue. "Myrielle didn't tell you anything about what I was doing?" Alessandre prodded.

Shadowstep frowned darkly, but said nothing. Alessandre exhaled angrily. He knew that was how all rogues covered the fact that they didn't know something, by saying nothing at all. Alessandre realized that the Second in Command had been lying to him about her motivations for following him around Stormwind. Myrielle was just as ruthless as their guild leader.

"Oh, they'll be dead, I'll promise you that." Alessandre got up and rudely pushed past Shadowstep. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep from having to do your bidding ever again!"

Shadowstep looked on quietly, and folded his hands behind his back. He didn't know what Myrielle was up to, but he was going to get very cross if she didn't show up and report soon. Unlike Alessandre, her mission had ended weeks ago. In addition, Shadowstep hadn't got any word from Stormwind for days, even SI: 7 had been too quiet of late… it was imperative for the Master Rogue to know what was going on, at all times.

"She'd better have an excellent excuse for being so late." Shadowstep turned sharply on his heels and walked back to his offices in the Cenarion Enclave.

Author's Note:

Try saying 'Starshatter shadowmelded' three times, and fast!