"Ready-nock-draw! Ready-aim-loose! One-two-three!"
Tyrande's sharp instructions came in rapid bursts from just behind Jaina's ear as she hurried with the bow, the arrow, and just keeping herself sitting straight with her knees clamped against Fluffy's sides. She drew back the bowstring, concentrated, and…
THWOCK!
Shooting a bow from a mounted position, how hard could it possibly be?
Endlessly so, it had turned out. Sitting in the saddle, or what counted as saddles on frostsabers, was not comfortable as much as it was frantically hanging on with your legs' full strength to start with. Actually handling a bow with about half the available space as when standing was the next challenge, and on top of everything the tremors of even Fluffy's padded paws threatened to shake the bow out of your hands and the arrow from the bowstring. So you simply had to nock the arrow, draw, be ready, and aim and loose when Fluffy was between two steps at the gallop.
Simply.
Fluffy leapt from stock to stone and turned with some gravity-defying move that had Jaina and Tyrande leaning down almost sideways, which Tyrande balanced with practiced ease with one hand around Jaina.
"Some improvement." The moon priestess noted when Fluffy had returned with them. "Though I seem to recall us waging war against the elms to the south of the trail."
Jaina turned red as an apple.
"But perhaps this was a sneaky flanking manoeuvre by our nefarious opponents that you wisely anticipated?"
"Exactly. You never know with those elms."
Tyrande chuckled while she leaned down acrobatically and retrieved Jaina's practice arrow, with a blunted tip for the safety of everyone in the forest.
"I think that will be enough for today. We have some way to travel still, to where I thought we should make camp tonight."
"Where is that?"
Tyrande did not answer – of course she didn't, because everyone seemed to derive a twisted amusement from not telling you things you were genuinely curious about – but urged Fluffy forward at a breakneck speed which forced Jaina to devote all her concentration to staying onboard.
They rode past the trails of the nefarious elms and lush leaves and thick grass was all you could see in every direction. Their direction was north or west though where exactly in Ashenvale they were, Jaina was happy to leave to Tyrande to keep track of.
The stay in the forests had been mesmerizing just like the last time. Tyrande had taken Jaina with her and Fluffy to see all the wonders of Ashenvale that one could possibly make room for in only a few days, and nights because the forest was really magical at that time. They had even climbed Mount Hyjal to watch the scorched plateau where small new roots could still be seen here and there amid everything that was burned and torn. Slowly but surely like Tyrande had said, the forest was recovering after the Burning Legion's ravages.
Jaina had even found a colony of ants that lived somewhere amid the soot-blackened roots, and she had spent an inordinate amount of time tracking their highways and paths to see if she could locate their nest. Eventually she had conjured a little bit of pastry as compensation for the intrusion which the ants had greedily bitten pieces of to carry home, wherever it was. There was no need to be needlessly impolite after all. Somewhere below there was a queen after all and queens could sometimes have a bit of a temper.
And speaking of queens with a temper, it would be high time for Jaina to finish her story about her stay in Lordaeron. Tomorrow they would rejoin Malfurion and Pained, and she and Jaina would return to Theramore. So she had better get on with it sooner rather thn later.
There was no point though in attempting that until they had arrived wherever Tyrande was taking them, or at least until they had slowed down. Deep forest was flying by and giving way to wilder cliffs and colder air, and the Tides knew if there wasn't the smell of sea water in it too!
Just as the sky started to burn in the light of the setting sun they came out of the canopy of the woods and up onto the edge of a steep sloping cliff. A long plateau, stretching like a naturally formed shelf below which lay more broken cliffs and grooves of trees, until far below by the shoreline was a broader stretch of more lush ground where clutches of Kaldorei roofs could be seen here and there. They were evidently coming upon one of the more densely populated parts of the night elves' realm.
And beyond, stretching everywhere before their eyes, lay the sea.
Tyrande looked almost too knowingly at Jaina when they dismounted and stood to take in the serene view.
"How beautiful." Jaina simply said.
"The view is not bad from inside either."
"Inside?"
The moon priestess nodded over her shoulder. Behind them, halfway hidden beneath vines and trees, was an elven tower that looked like it was nearly growing out of the rock it was built against. It had a balcony and wide windows on the top floor, the third floor Jaina would guess.
"Something tells me that this particular tower should be fairly well stocked." Tyrande continued casually. "I have a hunch that some priestess even hid a secret cache of sugarleaves in the cupboard under the stairs…"
"What are we waiting for, then?"
Exquisite bows and druidic lore were all well and good, but the foremost expression of Kaldorei wisdom was, and would in Jaina's opinion forever be, those delicious pastries.
While Jaina and Tyrande explored the watch tower and found the supplies in good order, Fluffy snuck off to hunt.
The bottom floor was for storage and the top one held the only proper room, the rest was all stairs. There was even a ladder leading up to a loft-like platform under a small dome on the roof, under which there were windows and a glowing crystal of some kind set in a holder against a mirror.
"This is a lighthouse?!" Jaina realised with joy. She had always been fond of lighthouses. They made the dark less lonely and showed you the way home.
And then, after they had eaten and the chill of the evening showed very clearly that they were now far from the warmer heart of Ashenvale, there was no putting it off anymore. Jaina sighed more audibly than she had intended.
"Jaina. You are not obliged to tell me anything, you know." Tyrande had spread out a couple of bedrolls together with blankets from the house that would keep the cold away. Dried pieces of dead wood crackled in the fireplace behind them.
"It's not that, I just…I want to tell you but I'm ashamed to, too. It's as simple as that. We had done so good and everything went wrong when we came to Dalaran."
"And we night elves have never done anything that have gone completely and terribly wrong, of course." Tyrande agreed with mild irony. "We all stray. We all make mistakes, Jaina."
"I ruined it. Then she ruined it. And then we both did... And still I miss her." Jaina whispered.
"Who?"
Sylvanas.
Anya.
Both.
"We shouldn't have been like that to each other! We should have managed better! For…for everyone's sake."
And especially Anya's.
"What happened in Dalaran? You had told me that you and the Forsaken had cleared a path to the city. And then I understand that something went terribly wrong."
"There were Forsaken prisoners. Traitors. They had sold out the others to the kind that gave me the scars on my back. I…"
"At your own pace, Jaina. Start from the beginning, or from where you left off more precisely. You were nearing Dalaran?"
And Jaina did just that. Mechanically at first, but then the words flowed easier as they watched the last of the sun disappear below the horizon and the first stars pop out against the dark blue.
Tyrande listened, ever patiently. She made no judgement, but Jaina made all the more.
How could they have been so stupid? Both of them. Let alone that they had acted outrageously towards one another, that was bad enough but somehow in a way she could not quite explain, Jaina thought that was the lesser of it. Maybe because that part was personal, but their lack of forethought had put other people at risk and that was inexcusable.
Fear bred that stupidity.
And also rash actions.
And misunderstandings.
And far too hasty words.
When they had nearly gotten to the end it was pitch dark outside. Jaina was just about to recount the return from Windrunner Spire when Tyrande halted her.
"I think there is someone by the door…"
Jaina frowned. Who would that be? Had Tyrande asked someone to come here. Then she remembered herself and strained her ears to detect the scraping sounds from below. No, not exactly scraping. Scratching.
Jaina hurried heedlessly down the stairs to let in Fluffy. The frostsaber took the stairs in great leaps but had to squeeze through the narrowest parts, with what looked like apparent familiarity.
"Well, I didn't clean my teeth tonight either…" Jaina muttered as she caught the scent of whatever had been Fluffy's dinner. "I hope you ate something very unfriendly. Maybe a satyr."
When they were back at the top floor Tyrande was making tea. It was not such a bad time either because the interruption gave Jaina some time to sit quietly and just reflect on what she had said. And maybe what she wanted to say. Fluffy had meanwhile had the audacity to put her giant head in Jaina's lap. Jaina obliged her and had found two twigs and some sort of sticky seed nestled behind the ears by the time the moon priestess was finished.
"This is quite the tale." Tyrande said as they sipped on the tea. "I can understand how it must upset you."
"Yeah…" Jaina braced herself for the last part.
"Sometimes a tale flows like a river even when it is one of sadness. And sometimes it is a trickle that can only be forced out by the greatest effort."
Jaina couldn't argue with that. And folks said she was the one sprinkling her language with maritime likenings?
"Has your tale ceased to flow, Jaina?"
"Seems so. But it's not much more to say, it's just the –"
"Your attempt to appease the Banshee Queen did not go as you had hoped, and you left Lordaeron in another manner, and perhaps sooner, than you would otherwise have wanted. Am I close in my guessing?"
"Pretty much that, I guess. Am I that transparent?"
"To those who care about you and whom you have been so forthcoming with, yes you are. And that is not a bad thing, nor is it a sign of a simple mind or whatever else you may think of telling yourself. Thank you, Jaina, for trusting me with this tale. Trust is a precious gift and I am honoured to receive yours."
Jaina took the hint and let it be. Tyrande was probably right. There was not so much more to say about what had happened. Not when Jaina did not fully understand it anyway.
"What do you want to do now?" the moon priestess asked then.
"Fix it. But I don't exactly know how…"
A drawn out moment of silence followed. Fluffy rose and stretched her back and started to clean her front paws while those all too knowing night elven eyes held Jaina in their thoughtful gaze.
"What would mending this exactly entail?"
The way she worded it was confusing. Wasn't the question how to…?
"What I am trying to express is…" Tyrande elaborated "…that when I listen to you I hear you speak of retaining the peaceful relations, and indeed the budding alliance, between Theramore and the Forsaken as if it was a foregone conclusion, something inevitable. I am not in disagreement with you there, I shall say before I say anything else. It does seem like the only sensible choice in that regard and you can very evidently achieve much together against the Scourge. But what is really troubling you seems to essentially be your own relationship with the Forsaken Queen."
"W-we don't have a relationship."
Had Tyrande paused to look at her, or was Jaina just imagining it?
"A figure of speech, semantics. But she and the dark rangers of hers are firmly on your mind, are they not?"
"Yes…"
"Have you traded any words? Since your return to Theramore, I mean?"
"I wrote to her. But there was no reply. Although, I realised that she may not have been aware of how I intended for her to be able to reply."
Jaina explained briefly about the portals she had used to drop her letters on Sylvanas' desk. In other company she realised it might not have been the smoothest thing to do, delving into details of this possibly flippant use of arcane powers. The Kaldorei had a bit of a history with such practices after all, one could say. But Tyrande was not just anyone.
"You…won't have to tell on me to Elune, will you? I mean, she's probably very busy with all sorts of more important things…?" Jaina said, and hoped it was jokingly. The moon goddess wouldn't really be cross with minor spells cast by other peoples far away from the night elf realm, would she?
Tyrande first looked at her quizzically, but then she broke out in pearly laughter.
"…Jaina, you are too lovely sometimes! Oh, if gossiping about the latest antics of foreign mages was what we priestesses had to occupy ourselves with, my people would be blessed indeed." Tyrande shook her head. "Rest assured that so long as you are not sinking cities or seeking to move continents, Elune will have more pressing concerns. I dare say our past would have made any goddess slightly jaded when it comes to such things. And if not, I will have to remind her that without that very magic this world would now be a drained husk under the Burning Legion's dominion."
"Oh, uh, well… Had to ask. I mean, she sort of lives here." Jaina made a vague gesture indicating the realm around them. "Or dwells, or how you say it."
"Elune keeps a close watch over Ashenvale, that is true. Though if she ever held an interest in meddling in the personal affairs of its creatures, she must have grown tired of it long before my time."
They both sat quietly for some time. Only the rustling of trees outside and the sounds of a frostsaber finishing with tidying herself up could be heard along with the snapping and crackling from the fireplace.
"Do you fear that Sylvanas would harm you if you went to see her again?" Tyrande finally asked.
"What – no. No, no she wouldn't."
"Then I think you should do just that. Somewhere outside your city at first, or hers, where no one is at a disadvantage."
"I would…very much like to see her, I think." Suddenly there was this thing in Jaina's throat that made words come out choked and with difficulty. "Do you…do you think she would want to see me?"
"That I can not know. But I think that you are not the kind to let such matters rest, Jaina Proudmoore, and will find the need to at least try. And that is all we can ever do."
"I want to shout at her. Too. I am still furious with her. And I want her to shout at me, if she needs to. And…and I want us to be friends again…"
It was getting late.
On a silent request from Tyrande, Fluffy stretched herself out on the rug next to them and sheltered Jaina inside the warm wall that was the frostsaber's legs and belly. Jaina couldn't stop herself from curling up with her back against Fluffy. You only got to sleep next to a friendly giant tiger so many times after all.
"Would you…sing to me tonight?" Jaina asked and felt hopelessly small for doing it.
But Tyrande only smiled in response, and held out her arm for Jaina to rest on like she had done at other times.
Tyrande sang, and Jaina dreamed of red eyes that were kind again.
"It is without doubt one of the finest properties in the entire city."
"Aye. Heh. Much as that says…"
Alina watched the Forsaken foreman as he grudgingly accepted the compliments of the two new tenants. Runar and Halvdan were doing their best to be very kind, Alina thought. It could not be very easy when you found yourself in the middle of a nation full of grieving undead. It was not easy even when you were a grieving undead yourself.
"It still competes with that –" Runar pointed at the Lordaeron Keep "and comes out on top I would say."
"Hm. You have a solid point." The foreman stroked his fleshless chin. A royal castle was still a royal castle, even if it was battered.
Alina thought that the dwarves were rather good at sneaking in these kinds of small comments to make other people feel better. Or Forsaken at least. It was a little like they were having a never-ending debate on their behalf and taking every opportunity to hammer in the point that undeath did not make you all the kinds of monstrous that you thought it did.
The house in question was one of those few of the most intact houses that the Forsaken had rebuilt for use as storage or workshops around the upper city. It should be the Upper City Alina thought, if it was the Undercity below. Calling it the Overcity would sound far too smug.
It was a good thing. They no longer needed to be consigned to the underground for fear of imminent attacks. But how it would go without an archmage in their ranks now, nobody could tell. Definitely much worse, Alina was sure.
She could not understand what had happened. Lady Proudmoore had seemed so happy with them, and been a storm on every battlefield that nothing but those new foul destroyers could stop. And then she had just disappeared, which a lot of her sisters blamed Sylvanas for.
Alina was playing. She did that a lot now, admittedly. Her violin and bow had been bathed in every protective enchantment that their mages knew, and the red mage Edwin had boasted that the bow could now be used to cut logs with. Be that as it may, that would not be allowed to be tested out.
The dwarves and the foreman had now proceeded to delving into the specifics of architecture and construction, which Alina was moderately interested in. A tent could be made to be just as homely in her opinion, and you could pack it up with you if you needed.
Much more practical.
"…we have been experimenting but mortar remains hard to produce in sufficient quantities. Otherwise we could have twice as many shops up and running here."
"So this – is it clay?"
"Aye, it's mostly for insulation than anything else, and to keep the gravel in place to fill out the gaps."
"I'm sure we'll come to greatly appreciate that." Halvdan was rubbing his gloved hands.
"Yeah, well… To tell the truth, we might not feel the chill like we used to but some o' us don't say no to a bit o' heat now an' then." Then he looked like he remembered himself and straightened up and got back to business. "Hrm, anyways, you should find the living quarters in fairly good condition but the larder is a bit of a sorrier sight."
"Speaking of that, are there…undead rats around here? If the plague of undeath was spread through infected grain, I mean…?"
"Hah! Never thought of it…but you're right, some o' those rascals should've gotten their teeth in that grain. Ne'er seen any here though, since we became ourselves or what'ya call it."
"That is a relief. I wouldn't feel to comfortable about having to get a cat in the same house as a squirrel."
"And the same should be true for the lice an' other infestations." the foreman pointed out with a smirk. "Ain't been anything around her for years for the little buggers to live on."
"Splendid!"
"Can't say for sure about elves, though."
On that, Alina took the opportunity to interject an ominous section from the overture of one of the classical Silvermoon operas.
"What are we doing?" Lyana asked.
"We're spying, of course?" Kitala answered in hushed whispers.
"Yes, I know that, but why are we spying on the dwarves? They are friends now, aren't they?"
"We are dark rangers, of course we spy."
Anya did not bother. Neither with keeping track of the banter or engaging in questioning the practicality or the accuracy of Kitala's claim. She just tagged along, and was happy enough if her squadmates found something to amuse themselves with. Or, 'happy' was stretching it.
Anya's squadron – the two thirds of what it should have been if things had been good – was hiding among the uncountable rubble of one broken section of the south wall. Their city was so torn down at this side that it was difficult to make out what parts had been the actual wall and what parts had been the houses closest to it.
All was broken. All was in ruins.
Ruins was what all would ever be in the end.
"I spy with my little eye, rangers afraid to say 'hi'."
A kind and also mischievous voice that Anya knew by heart pulled her back to the present. Velonara waved from underneath a cracked vault. Cyndia and the other Naras lurked in the shadows further behind.
"Hi, Vel'."
"Why are you skulking around here?"
"We're dwarf-watching." Clea informed her. "Apparently it's an important and highly recreational pastime."
"Yes it is." Kitala waved them over to her lookout spot. "Take a gander at that!"
Runar and Halvdan were walking along the road that ran next to the city wall and from the other direction was a shockingly…meaty…creature lumbering in the opposite direction. Fresh stitches of coarse and greasy rope held the towering construct together and a crudely bolted together cleaver was wielded in each of the three arms.
"Shouldn't we, intervene or something?" Velonara hesitated. "I don't want to have to tell Alina that her favourite dwarf got smashed into jelly by that."
"They are supposed to be house-trained…kind of."
"We're not in a house." Lyana argued, very logically.
But before any disaster had time to unfold, the dwarves took matters into their own hands pre-emptively and shouted with their hands formed to trumpets around the mouth.
"GOOD DAY!"
The gigantic form stopped. It looked around and managed to appear confounded, but then remembered that it could angle its prodigious neck slightly downwards too.
"HRRRAGH! GORDO SMASH!"
"Good day to you too, Master, ah, Gordo!" Runar shouted back.
"HUH? GOO-DAY! GORDO GREET PUNY THINGS!"
"We are Runar and Halvdan! We are friends of the Banshee Queen!"
"ARE YOU BAD GHOULS? GORDO SMASH BAD GHOULS FOR QUEEN!"
"No, no, we are two of the good ghouls! Sort of."
"YOU GOOD GHOULS! GORDO NOT SMASH YOU!"
"Right! Just that! Otherwise the queen will be very angry!"
"ANGRY QUEEN BAD!" Gordo wisely warned his new acquaintances. "GOOD GHOULS REMBER!"
"We will remember that, you can be sure! Angry queen bad!" the dwarves nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Gordo! Have a good day!"
"YOU HAVE GOO-DAY! GORDO LOOK FOR MORE BAD GHOULS! GORDO SMASH!"
With that, the two parties went their separate ways along the road.
Anya and her squadron, still hidden out of sight, looked at each other and did not really know what to think or say.
"Honestly, what does Gordo the Abomination have that we don't?"
Mira and Marrah led the advance from cover to cover in quick bursts to minimize exposure. Following them came Alina and Cyndia and the Naras in quick succession.
They communicated with the ranger hand signs to maintain their silence as they came upon the front door. Velonara would take her squadron to scout out the surroundings in a precautionary sweep.
Alina rolled her eyes. You could do this thing known as knocking, also. Either the dwarves would be up and they would answer the door, or they would be resting and not answer it and you would know that you had to come back later. It was honestly very simple.
None of them had seen anything through the window except that the curtains – actually one large blanket – were closed, probably against the cold.
Just as the rangers were forming up along both sides of the door, they heard a voice. A dark, deep voice, and loud enough to be heard by all of them.
"Aahaha, just like that, My Exquisite Queen…"
Seven dark rangers traded incredulous stares with one another. Alina could not believe her ears. Surely…surely that couldn't be Varimathras, with the Dark Lady? Although, did any of them know for sure what that unsettling demon actually sounded like? They did not exactly seek out the chancellor's company.
"…that is what horns are for, they give you something to hold on to…"
Alina pushed herself closer between the Mirrahs, and the Naras bunged up over each other from the other direction with Cyndia in the middle of everything when all tried to find a spot with their ear against the door.
"…and THIS is how we do the negotiating where I come from. Our admirers are LEGION and BURNING for more!"
Alina blinked. No. No, there was simply no way in all of Azeroth that this could be true. And suddenly she had a strange, unaccustomed feeling like her stomach was bubbling even if she did not eat things or anything like it, and the bubbling wanted to spread throughout all of her and escape. She looked at her dear sisters pressed tightly against the wood with their confounded faces and ears that bobbed up and down when they strove to find the better spot. And she thought that they all looked ridiculous, and the bubbling inside escaped her in a long and unexpected fit of giggles that never wanted to end, and only grew the more she thought of how absurd they all were when they persisted in haunting their esteemed guests as some kind of fixed idea instead of just greeting them.
She suddenly noticed a low hissing from behind. A very peculiar sound, for it was not the kind you expected to come from large barrels like the one placed just under the window.
Alina felt that she wanted to smile again. She discreetly withdrew herself from the crowd by the door and walked aimlessly a few steps so that she just happened to stand just next to the odd barrel.
"Hi." it whispered, and sounded just like a dark-haired dwarf in fact.
"Hi." Alina whispered back, and bit down on her lower lip to not make any more noise. "What is going on?"
"Nothing unusual, it looks like." the barrel said, and Alina had a very distinct feeling that it was looking at the six more dark rangers who were frantically listening just a little bit away.
"Is that really the Dark Lady and Varimathras inside?"
"Maybe." Halvdan said. "Or it could be Runar and an empty mug."
This time Alina huffed and completely forgot herself, and her laughing finally attracted the attention of her ranger sisters.
"I'm sure it is warmer to spy on us from the inside." Halvdan said while he peeked out of the barrel with his hands on the edge. He looked so funny doing that. "And the view is probably better, too. If you hurry you may catch the Dark Lady and her chancellor before they sneak out through the chimney."
Halvdan had just woken up and stretched his legs comfortably. Say what you will about the tall folks, but you did get a lot of space length-wise in most beds. Truly luxurious. He blinked, and reflected on this bemusing circumstance. He had slept excellently and was truly in no hurry to get up…because it was already warm and a fire was crackling in the fireplace.
Had Runar gotten up already and decided to be unusually decent today? No, that did not make sense. Halvdan was often the lightest sleeper and woke earlier.
He listened intently, and then decided to roll out of bed and be on his feet in one smooth motion. Dangerous intruders did usually not light a fire in your fireplace as far as Halvdan knew but it never hurt to be discreet when you were the spy of the party.
He snuck a peek through the doorway. Nothing so far in the living room.
The larder or the hall, that was the question. Or Runar's room, though his lazy companion could be allowed to sleep for a bit longer. Unless…
Halvdan turned on the spot and looked behind his bedroom door. Empty, as expected, but it didn't hurt to look. Hiding in plain sight and all that…
He chanced it on the hall first. Tactically sound to cut off escape routes first. There was no one there so he proceeded to the larder. There were two doors separating it from the living room, which did something to keep the warmth in.
Just as Halvdan opened the second creaking door he thought he heard something muffled behind him. Quick, light steps and something shuffling.
The living room was empty. Mysteriously empty, the kind that gave you the feeling that someone had just been there. Especially since the couch table was on second thought not empty. It now sported two mittens and three socks laid out to form a smiling face.
Very suspicious, Halvdan noted that Runar was awake and emerging with a yawn from his room.
"…morning…" he said. "What's this?"
"It seems our house is haunted."
"I noticed. Someone has kept the fire going throughout the night." Runar inspected the woolly display. "This would where all the socks go."
"How do you mean?"
"You know when after laundering there are always socks missing like no other pieces of cloth? Or when there are just odd socks in your drawer for some inexplicable reason."
A chitter and a muffled snort cut through the silence. Runar and Halvdan looked at each other.
"I think I read that sock-thieving ghosts thrive behind couches."
"I have heard the same."
With united effort they rapidly pulled out their couch from the wall. A high yelp erupted as several tightly packed bodies toppled into a heap.
"Ow, warn a poor girl before you rearrange furniture like that." Velonara said from the top with Rattletusk sitting on her stomach and protectively cradled in her hands.
"Kindly move you elbow away from my nose, Vel'." Lenara said from underneath her.
"And you could very much get your knee out of my ear." Nara groaned from underneath her.
"You're one to bloody talk." Cyndia huffed from the bottom of the pile.
Rattletusk was the only one who did not complain.
"Do you usually haunt the drawers of the guests in your city?" Runar asked some time later when they were all seated around the table and the dwarves had retrieved the rest of their clothing and the dark rangers had conjured a pot of porridge that they had had to warm a bit.
"We were bringing breakfast as a welcome gift to your new home! But then you were still sleeping so we had to amuse ourselves as best we could while we waited."
"Of course."
Halvdan was not the greatest admirer of porridge but a warm meal of any kind went a long way after what they had contended themselves with on their travels, and with jam (where had they got that from?) it was quite edible.
While Runar did most of the talking on their part Halvdan was thinking. There was something that was not adding up about the Forsaken. When he and Runar arrived the first time the dark rangers had been wary to the point of bordering on open hostility. And now…now they were making jokes and pranks like almost no one he had ever met, but underneath it all there was something else and much sadder that was thinly veiled. It was hard to put into words. But he had a feeling that it was important.
"Cain I ask you something?" Halvdan finally decided to say.
"You mean something so serious that it warrants a question of whether you can ask about it before go and ask about it? Sure, go ahead. Doom and gloom for all." Lenara invited.
"Yes, it was just about that…" Halvdan paused to consider his words while the dark rangers showed signs of curiosity. Why couldn't Alina be here? She was actually easier to talk to even if he felt like he made a fool of himself half the time.
"It's like…" Halvdan begun again. "…when we came here last time you were all on edge. Those of you that we met. You were like hunted beasts, ready to either hide or fight in the blink of an eye. And I suppose you still are. But now you can make jokes and it is like you have remembered what it is like to have fun again, or allowed yourselves to, but between all those moments you seem, I don't know, unsure? Or maybe not unsure but like something troubles you enormously despite the things that have very evidently gone your way."
The reaction was complete silence, and Halvdan thought he had not managed to make his point very well. It was much easier when Runar did the talking. Then Nara whistled lowly.
"Phew…"
"There's really gonna be no wriggling out of this one, will there?" Cyndia sighed.
"Curse all bloody perceptive dwarves." Velonara sounded annoyed. "You're supposed to be ale-sodden blockheads with only mines and metals on your head, hasn't anyone taught you that?" she admonished.
"Uh, sorry…?" Halvdan managed. "We'll try to do better next time."
Cyndia and the Naras were not appeased.
"But what is going on? Why does it feel like some lingering unspeakable doom is hanging over this city, when you so obviously can laugh too? What are me and Runar so obviously missing?"
"Vel', are you up to explaining?" Cyndia asked her ranger partner.
"Me? You better be damned kidding." Velonara said disbelievingly.
"She is your best friend. You know her like none of us do. You know what would be alright to say, and what would not."
"Oh. Aw, Cyndia, that is fucking unfair."
"I know." Cyndia smirked.
"Fine. But I don't know the exact details like these gals seem to think I do just because I know Anya. Just so you keep that in mind."
Halvdan nodded. This was sure to become very interesting, that much you needed not be a seasoned diplomat or spy to grasp.
"Alright, the gist of all is, I guess, that we've lost our archmage…"
"You know, Vel' –"
"What the heck, now you interrupt me when I've agreed to be the storyteller her?!"
"Yeah, and not to disparage your noble sacrifice, but I was just thinking – is there any reason we shouldn't go looking for Anya and her squad and let them decide what they want to share in the first place? That might give Anya something to do too, wouldn't it?"
"Huh. We may wriggle out of this one still, then."
"Just like last time, we find our search for answers eventually leading us to Anya Eversong." Runar pondered.
"She is the wisest of us." Velonara said with hidden pride. "Everyone knows it except Anya."
A quarter of an hour later they were on their way through the Forsaken capital city, searching for the ranger squadron commanded by Velonara's dearest friend and however much she would see fit to divulge of their current predicament and what events were casting such a lingering gloom that not even the wittiest roguery could dispel it.
There were Forsaken patrols and watches here and there, mostly the elite guards in heavy armour. Runar and Halvdan could not help but nod with approval. The dark rangers surely knew their trade too but…wouldn't any commander want such precious troops wrapped in a little more iron?
They had gotten a lead on where Anya might be from asking about, and were just making their way past a few of these watches.
POFF.
The snowball hit Halvdan's neck expertly. Just above the collar, so that some of the melting snow would be bound to trickle down his back if he didn't brush it away.
He glanced around. The guards were still as statues. Both the human Forsaken ones and the elven one with the tall shield and double-bladed spear.