The inn smelled of incense and expensive wine. A Quel’dorei woman made her way to the upper floor, barely noticing the looks give her by the other patrons. To their eyes, she was marked with the unmistakable signs of the demon hunter; her eyes – indeed, her entire face – were covered; her exposed arms and shoulders bore the telltale tattoos in swirling designs, and most significant, on her back rested the twin warglaives for which demon hunters were famous. This is what they saw, but none understood that they had not quite struck the truth. The woman climbed the stairs, oblivious to all of this, until she reached a private table hung ‘round with sheer curtains. Parting the translucent fabric, she she stepped inside and knelt.
Before her, a richly attired Quel’dorei man reclined in a low couch. His skin, like hers, had a bronze sheen to it, and his hair was a rich flaxen color that cascaded down his shoulders, shining like fine gold wire. He nodded to the woman and spoke with a slightly impatient, “Hmmm…rise.”
The woman stood and bowed low, saying, “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Eyeing her, the man said, “What news of this Realm, Sulime?”
Dreading the ire that was sure to follow, Sulime sighed and replied, “Very little, I’m afraid, Your Grace.”
Raising a single eyebrow, he replied, “And why is that?”
Grimacing slightly, Sulime said, “Use of the Void here is..ah..uncivilized. The interference makes tracking the offender…um…difficult.”
The man scowled, the deep lines marring the beauty of his face, “These sound like excuses.”
Shrinking in on herself, Sulime mustered her courage and replied, “Merely unexpected hurdles to overcome, Your Grace.”
Nodding approval, the noble said, “That’s better.”
Clearing her throat nervously, Sulime added, “Is…ah..Your Grace aware of the…um…temporal issue?”
The noble’s golden eyes never left hers as he languidly sipped from his wine glass and asked, “What issue?”
Quietly, barely above a whisper, she responded, “We are in a different era here.”
Glancing around, the man said, flatly, “Sulime.”
Wincing, she replied, “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Have I not, on multiple occasions, expressed to you my desire for complete information when I ask you a question?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said nervously, “Forgive me.” The man gestured for her to continue and she added, “For reasons I cannot yet identify, our…ah…travels, have set us back approximately 500 years. Whether this was a function of the rift itself or temporal flow variance in this realm, I cannot yet say.” Seeing his interested expression, she added, “We have arrived here shortly after the chaining of Sargeras.”
Sulime watched nervously, hoping to gauge his mood. A small, odd smile crossed his face for a moment, then he looked her in the eye once again and said, “Much better, Sulime. Information that is both useful and intriguing.”
Sulime nodded in humble thanks and said, “I am happy to serve, Your Grace.” Seeing his improved mood, she chose to relay her other news, in the hope he might take it better. Clearing her throat, she said, “There is one other thing, Your Grace.”
“Oh?”
“The ancient Mage City, Dalaran, still flies in this Realm. I was there a day ago.”
Raising a long golden eyebrow, he responds, “Indeed?”
Nervously, she replied, “Yes, Your Grace. And…ahh..I may be mistaken, of course, as we have not fully explored this Realm, but…I believe I saw a Silverthorn.”
The man slowly rose to his feet, his golden eyes narrowing. Sulime stood still as death before his intent stare. With quiet menace, he said, “Be very certain of this, child. If there are Silverthorns in this world…” He let the final word hang in the air.
She answered, eyes downcast. “It was a kal’dorei, my lord, pale – nearly white – of complexion and silver of hair, as in your descriptions.”
“That is no mistake then,” he said in a growl, “That means in this world, he lived.”
“The colouration may flourish here for other reasons, but I felt you should be aware.”
He waved her comment away angrily, hissing at her, “You know that to be a lie, why even utter it?”
Shrinking, she replied in a small voice, “This is another realm, it may be different here.” The man moved closer to her, leaning in threatening with narrowed eyes. Sulime looked at her own feet, trembling slightly.
“Find your strength, child. We have not brought the others over yet. You know how I expect things done. And how little tolerance I have for deceit. I brought you here for a reason. Do your job.”
Quietly, he replied, “I intend no deceit, my lord, I offer only alternatives. I came here to report this to you as soon as I realized what I was seeing.”
“Good. Now. Where did you see them?”
“In Dalaran. They were entering an area open only to the old Alliance of Lordaeron.”
“Hmmm. More. Describe them beyond the obvious”
“Male. One of those druids, if I didn’t mistake it. He looked rather young, as such things go.”
“That can be difficult to gauge with them.”
Sulime nodded and continued, “He wore what I can only describe as primitive garments, hence my assessment of his calling. I did not hear him, speak.”
“Hmm, so he holds more towards the older ways.”
“So it would seem, Your Grace.”
The man ignored her and turned his back. He was silent for a few minutes, lost in thought. Finally, he broke the silence, saying “We have much work to do, Sulime.”
“If I may, Your Grace, in Dalaran, I saw others that presented the same…ah..primitive accoutrement.”
“More druids.”
“I believe so, Your Grace,” she answered, then added meaningfully, “Men and women both.”
“Most odd. Why would they be…wait, women as well? Oh that is interesting.” Sulime nodded. He went on, “I am very interested to learn what else is different here.”
Hesitantly, Sulime asked, “If I may ask, has Your Grace learned anything here in Silvermoon?”
“Hmmm. A bit. Void magic has been outlawed recently, mind yourself in that regard.”
Frowning slightly, Sulime answered, “Actually, I do not think that will be an issue. This realm is crawling with Demon Hunters. Your adaptation of Illidan’s process to create my own kind will likely allow me to pass as one of them except on very close inspection.”
“Be careful just the same. Until we have made a proper place here, we best not draw too much attention.”
Sulime bowed low and said, “Of course, Your Grace.” Seeing the man thoughtfully stroking his chin, she added, “Your Grace has a thought?”
“If there are demon hunters everywhere, then their their battle with the Legion was very recent.”
“Yes, Your Grace, it has been less than a year.”
“Do we know if Sargeras, in this Realm, pierced Azeroth?”
“He did, my Lord, I have heard some of the sin’dorei speak of a mad dash to acquire..ah…the substance.”
Breaking into a predatory smile, the man said, “Ahhh, very good, my dear. I know how we will fill a treasury here. You know what to do. I must begin preparations for us to set up properly. Repairs on the western half of the city have not been made here.”
Returning his smile, she said, “Yes, Your grace.” Clearing her throat, she added, “Has Your Grace…ah..made contact with the bloodline here?”
Losing his smile, the man replied, “I have yet to locate them, which does cause some concern. If the Silverthorns live and the Greythorns are no where to be found, this world’s version of me may never have made it to the east.”
Sighing, Sulime said, “I shall keep both ears open for any sign, Your Grace.”
“You’d better, Sulime. Now go.”
“At once my Lord, I shall report back in two days time.”
“I want more information on the Silverthorns as well.”
Bowing low, she replied, “I shall make every effort, Your Grace.”
The man simply shooed her away, and she fled.