~* Author's Notes *~
Reluploaded: Dec 31, 11
Fixed: The worst grammar, spelling and consistency errors.
Warning: Somewhat graphic descriptions of dead and dying Night Elves toned down for the weak of stomach. I kept depictions of suffering and pain to a minimal on purpose.
In the actual world of Azeroth it would take several weeks (even months) to transverse the map and reach the moonwell's real location, so I moved it to the Night Elf settlement below Zul'aman.
~*~ Chapter 9 ~*~
The Druid now knew why the Priest had been apologizing for something he hadn't done wrong yet. Even from the camp he had been able to feel the lives of the Sentinels just a few miles away. Why he still brought her here was unknown. She didn't like being tested like this, if that is what he was doing.
Dead. Wounded. Panic. Pain. Disorder and chaos. How they had managed to get a Moonwell set up in this area, she had no idea. No doubt they moved in when the Blood Elves had been busy with something else. The resurgence of the Amani, perhaps? As it was now, wounded Kaldorei Sentinels, some no older than she, lay in grass sickened with their own blood and entrails. The ones that were not dead already were beyond saving. The few remaining alive, no doubt having been a last-resort backup call, were either singing death prayers or ending their falling comrades in a humane manor.
Where are your healers?
No paid her any attention as she slowly came into the encampment, probably assuming she was the cavalry come too late. Torn between crying out in agony over the heart-wrenching emotions all around and following the Priest's orders, she cursed the Horde over and over again. Fifteen minutes. He said fifteen…
Running towards the day-bright glow of the Moonwell, she leapt threw the torii gate and landed with a splash in the middle of the waters. Instantly an overwhelming wave of Elune's power swept threw her, clearing away all tainted energies and releasing her spirit to soar in the heavens. Her body soaked up the sacred waters.
Shifting into and out of each form, she cleared away every trace of tainted energy, even the traces in the dress she wore. Though being in the pool brought her great joy and deep spiritual cleansing, she knew her energies were needed elsewhere.
Stepping out of the pool, her unusual dress caught the attention of one of the dying. "Elune be praised!" the young Sentinel gasped, blood flooding from between her pale purple lips, the light in her eyes dying with her last breath. Without any of her enchanted gear or even her hearthstone the little Druid was next to powerless. These people were beyond her abilities even if she were in the best robes a healer of her years could wear.
But I am not a healer anyways.
Soon a second saw her, and then a third, a vision in white stepping forth from the Moonwell. The Sentinels whispered words of praise to the Goddess, one tentatively reaching forward to touch her.
The little druid spoke softly, "I serve Cenarius and Elune as a Druid of the Wild. There is little I have to offer you here, but it is yours. Ask of me." Tears stung her glowing eyes as she spoke, her voice choking on the waves of emotions battering against her body. These are my people, oh Elune… What were they doing here? Children no older than she sent to fight Scourge, Blood Elves, Trolls…. And so very far away from home! Why!
"A Druid…?" A Sentinel whispered.
"Yes."
"Elune be praised!" The Sentinel cried, then louder, "Elune be Praised!" Turning to the others, she grasped the Druid's wrist and pulled her forward. Bare feet found wet, squishy grass and she didn't look down to see whom she just walked threw. A second trip to the Moonwell would be needed before she left.
He said I have fifteen minutes…Hauled form one side of the encampment to another, she was thrust inside a large purple command tent. There she found what had been missing outside: survivors.
The Sentinel approached a woman dressed as Captain and addressed her with excited urgency, "The Goddess watches over us; Elune has sent a Druid. She stepped strait out of the Moonwell!"
Perplexed again, the Druid wondered how that was relevant at all. The Moonwells waters could cure many wounds and malignancies, but only threw alchemical transformation. Abilities she did not posses.
The Captain, barely older than the Druid herself and already showing the signs of her command, quickly assessed the Druid head to food in one swift motion. "Get to work then. If Elune is kind enough to send you, I won't waste time putting you to use." Turning back to the man she attended, the Captain bent back to her whispered conversations.
Before the Druid could open her mouth to ask for directions the Sentinel had her by the wrist again and pulled her towards the far wall. There she saw the row of cots. Each one held a de-suited Sentinel doubled over in crippling pain, trying their best not to cry out and scream from their agonies.
"Goddess on High!" the Druid gasped, hands to her mouth in horror. The pain radiating from the bodies in front of her was almost too much. Dropping to her knees in front of the first cot, she said the quick prayers she knew. "What do they need? What has happened here?"
The Sentinel knelt beside her, one hand rested on her shuriken, "They have been poisoned, each of them by a professional assassin. We think… we think it's Queen's Poison." Her next words were spoken as if she were reliving the memory, breath catching, eyes dilating and chest heaving before she was done, "He hit our Priests first, took them all out before we knew what was happening. Then he knifed the archers from a distance, one after another, hiding in the trees and in the shadows. We couldn't find him!" She needed the Druid to believe it, needed someone to know she had tried. Large eyes were wet with fear and self-hatred. "We kept him away from the Captain though. He tried to get to her but we kept him away. No one can say we didn't protect our command…" The sorrow turned to bitterness was hard to miss.
Your life before your Commanders. All Kaldorie who went into battle had this drilled into their head. You may die in dignity if you precede your commanding officer past the mortal veil. You are shamed forever if they die before you do.
"Why are you even here, any of you?" The Druid asked. Nothing would be so bad as helping these people and then having them sent right back to face the same danger again. If that were the case, she would end them quietly and deliver their souls to the Moonwell. She was not a Priestess but that much she could do.
There was a long pause, long enough to cause the Druid to glance at the Sentinel. The other girl's dark purple face was blanched, her jaw tight. Glowing silver eyes were filled with anger and distrust. Long eyebrows twitched as she fought to remain calm. "Fendral Staghelm sent us to set up the Moonwell and begin purifying these lands." Clearly upset with the turn of events, the Sentinel refused to let her personal feelings about the missions cloud her relaying of the orders, "This land cries out so loud that Fendral can hear it all the way in Darnassus. He said there were only minor Scourge we would need to fight and that it would be the perfect place for … new recruits to gain some experience." Her eyes closed, a tear sliding down her cheek.
The Druid felt an instinctive need to defend the leader of her order, "I'm sure he didn't understand the extent of the danger-"
"I sure as fel hope so!" The Sentinel said darkly, jumping out of her kneeling position beside the Druid and wheeling out of the tent.
Goddess keep you… The prayer floated in the wake of the other girl's anger, following her into the night. Surely Fandral didn't know; how could he?
Turning back to the bed, the Druid placed her hands on the injured girl's face. The poison was spreading upwards from a wound in her back, sending out black pulsing lines growing closer and closer to the heart. When they reached their destination, the heart would stop. Unfortunately poisons that were brewed and used to send messages often worked just the same, killing the victim slowly and allowing them to reach their commanders with the implied warning.
Who would do such a think to children? Pain flowed into her hands, causing her to wince. Even if the feral arts were here chosen path healing was something every Druid knew well. Spells to heal the land, prayers to heal animals, small alchemical transitions of sacred materials to purge taint. Right now, the spell to draw out poison was needed.
The Druid found the wound on the Sentinels' back, touched her fingers to the traces of poison there, wound her Will threw the girl's wounds until ever trace of poison was infused… and pulled. Holding her breath against what she knew was going to be a hellishly long moment, she bit back tears when the poison was pulled from the girls body and into her own hands.
When the last of the poison had left the Sentinel's body, and the girl had collapsed, gasping in a sheen of sweat, the Druid placed her hands flat on the round and pushed the poison out. Streaming black from the pores of her skin, it burned like liquid fire. It seeped into the ground, followed by drops of water form the Moonwell running down her bare arms, spreading relief.
Someone had paid good money to buy this stuff, or had been expertly able to mix it. Either way the Druid grinned threw the hurt, a feral sneer on her lips knowing that at least some of the assassin's efforts were going to be wasted.
Turning next to the girl on the other side of her, she repeated the procedure on down the row. Each time she exerted the effort her mental capacities to control her own Will and exercise it to her use grew weaker and weaker. Each time it was harder to pull the poison out of the wounds, each time harder to push them out of her own body.
Though the waters of the Moonwell soothed the pain, making her work that much easier, it could do nothing to stop the effects of that pain. By the time she came to the fourth person, her body was shaking with the effort, very little left in her to fight the poison that would spread inside her own body if she could not rid herself of it.
Were she a healer with enchantments, which keep her mind sharper for longer, all this would take no time at all. As it was, each procedure was taking longer than the last. By the fifth victim, the Sentinel had returned from outside and was helping her around, half supporting her weight. The muffled cries of the dying were enough to force her to move foreword to the next person despite the fatigue that set in at a frustratingly quick speed.
Her chosen art was not helping her help these people; the despair knowing she could not save them all shredded her heart. The watery tears leaked from her dimming eyes, dabbed away with the woolen fabric of her stained dress. Not unlike how she herself grew darker with hopelessness. The mud of the ground, blood on the grass, dirt and who-knows-what on the victims as she turned them to access wounds, all blended together in a kaleidoscope of colors which ruined the purity that had existed before.
Struggling to the tenth cot, and five more to go, the little Druid panted. Had she food in the last weeks… had she any of the enchanted gear that had been in her bag… had she cool drinks to wash away the mental fog… or even the stored energies in her hearthstone…
Outside there was a noise. Heads snapping up and studied the flap of the tent. They waited for whoever was causing a stir among those outside. The Commander went quickly to the door and threw the flap open – immediately her shuriken was in her hands – but upon realizing who it was lowered the tri-bladed weapon.
Another Sentinel walked threw the door, looked around, and walked strait up to the little Druid. Something was wrong about her and the Druid felt it immediately. Something was… not right.
The Sentinel spoke, "You must leave now." Emphasis on the last word was not ignored.
Standing slowly, she met the puzzled gaze of everyone in the tent with her own and followed the girl out. What was this all about? They said they wanted her help and now they were kicking her out? The Commander looked as confused as she did but said nothing to stop her.
The Moonwell, across the clearing from the tent and glowing warmly, brought a lump to her throat. The Sentinel pointed to it, expression blank. Perhaps she though the Druid really had come from the Moonwell to begin with and expected her to leave that way?
Energized with adrenalin, she crossed the clearing once more and sunk herself into the sacred waters. As soon as she came up for air, the strange-acting Sentinel barked, "And what part of fifteen minutes don't you understand?"
The Druid jerked upright, starring at the Sentinel, choking on her words. "You're mind controlled her?"
It didn't take long for others to understand the gist of the statement though: "Horde! Horde in An'Owyn! Gather the forces!" The free-willed Sentinels hollered, fleeing towards the command tent.
Such a blabbermouth! The Druid though, leaping from the Moonwell.
She had forgotten about the Priest.
~ End Notes ~
If no one has figured it out / pieced it together; our heroin is doing a quest and getting a lot of experience from it. In my mind, the 'leveling up' in the Azeroth universe happens when people put together all the 'pieces/experience(es)' that eventually turn into a revelation. These revelations put you on a different 'level' than you were before. This is one of the Druids pieces that will eventually lead to her revelation.