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WIND OF THE PLAGUEMIST RAVINE

Alas was standing on a slope of the Plaguemist Ravine overlooking Plaguelands. Emotionless wind was playing with her hair while she repeatedly pressed a finger with a silver wedding ring and was about to start crying.

„What am I doing here?“ she asked herself unvoicedly. Picture’s fragments went through her mind in a frantic haste...

Fireworks at the wedding
Gerrond’s nervous hand
Goodnight farewell in a sleepy night
Letter with a broken seal of Stratholme
Packing bags in a cold cell of the Cathedral
Blank sheet with „My dearest husband“ only

Cold wind of the Plaguemist Ravine blew it all away and Alas opened her bag to look for some warm cloak. In a second, her eyes caught one of the wedding’s gift, Teralon’s medallion, and it was like an enlightening stun.

She breathed in strongly, took Teralon‘s medallion on and sighed out with a sign of relief. „This is the right place to wear it... and this is the place where I should be no matter how complicated and scary it is,“ thought Alas and her heart started to beat regularly.

Her last turn back to the south brought her Gerrond’s presence and she prolonged it for few everlasting seconds.

The Light will prevail.

((This is the beginning of the story which will happen this summer. It's an IC story what will happen to Alas while I will be off IRL during summer holiday. It's dedicated to all friends in WoW... While I'm not sure using English to write stories I hope that it will help me to be in touch with the community. Happy holiday!

Alas))

((nice to see you post a story at last, Ive seen you around but never had the pleasure of RP'ing with you..get that husband of yours to introduce us, and keep the story coming))

(( Lovely emotive writing Lens, I doubt I'll get to rp with you above a few /emotes though ))

(( I like your writing style, Alas. I'm very interested to see how this will turn out, so keep the writing up. ))

(( Thank you for your nice words. Alas ))

A LETTER FROM STRATHOLME

The night was cold. A camp fire illuminated abandoned ruins of the Crown Guard Tower. Alas was wrapped in warm clothes staring at a letter with an incomplete seal of Stratholme. She had read it thousand times.

Alas,

A way of the Light can be unexpected.

I know you were looking for your relatives in Plaguelands. I can bring you a truth but you must hurry. We shall meet in seven days at the Crown Guard Tower. Be there alone and be prepared for answers. This is probably a last chance to meet your relative.

A Light in a Shadow

‘Can be Light and Shadow together?‘ thought young priestess.

Her body shaked in a breathe of fear - or was it cold?

MEETING AT THE CROWN GUARD TOWER

A man’s figure was slowly moving up to an abandoned ruin of the Crown Guard Tower. Alas immediately knew that it was him who had written her a letter.

An unkempt monk with a gleam of quiet despair in his eyes came to her and strictly asked: „Are you alone?“
Alas nodded observing every single move of the stranger. „Do I know you?“
„You may know me as Myrion, a travelling monk. I saw you in the Lights Hope Chapel several times but it’s a long time now and I don’t think you noticed me.“
Strange monk made a short pause.
„You don’t belong to neither the Argent Crusade, nor the Silver Hand or the Scarlet Crusade, do you..?“ said Alas in a low voice.
„No... But you don’t have to fear. At least not now. Come, I will tell you on our way.“
„Where are we going?“
„It’s near the Lake Mereldar. We still have some time but he can’t wait for us forever.“
Myrion took a look on confused priestess. „Yes, your probably last living relative. Your uncle. You will see but better hurry.“

CONFESSOR OF THE DAMNED

Abandoned land and rusty war machines played as a background to a monologue of the strange monk called Myrion.

„Look at this land. What a loss. This land was beautiful before... and now it’s a war ground again. I’ll tell you why I don’t belong to any faction. It’s because noone cares about those who need help the most... Can you believe that there are still some people who resisted to a Scourge invasion? Only a few of them are still alive. And me, I’m their confessor... Even those who are destined to an eternal doom are worth a confession. I hope you know what I’m talking about. Do you know what will happen to those affected by a Scourge plague when they die...?“

Dirty orange mist surrounded banks of the Lake Mereldar. Collapsing roofs of the Corin’s Crossing was on a left horizon.

„... I found your uncle accidentally. It took me some time until I realised that you and him are two parts of a story. I checked details and found a trace of your parents in the Arathi Refuge Point... You may ask why I did all this. But I’m sure you already know the answer... It’s my duty as a confessor to fulfil last wish of a dying man. And your uncle, William Thornton, is at the edge right now. He had stayed while your poor parents had left for a better future with you, a newly borned child. He had been living in Corin’s Crossing with his family for a several years until a Scourge invasion came... He has been hiding for 6 years, lost all his family and finally the Scourge plague will take the last piece of him... That’s one part of the story. You know yours. Your parents, poor farmers from Lordaeron, was defeated by a fatal illness when they reached Stormwind. A small hand basket with you inside in front of the Northshire Monastery was the last thing they did for you. I’m sorry to tell you the all this...“

Myrion gave a heavy cought and his eyes seemed very tired. He covered his face and Alas noticed his shaking hands.

ROCK TOMB

Myrion led Alas to a natural cave in southern hills near the lake Mereldar. Myrion entered it confidently without any light: „Light could attract unwelcome guests...“
Alas noticed a hidden explosive charge near the entrance and followed the monk who disappeared in a cave darkness.

A small illuminated cave room appeared after several turns. Everything what followed seemed like a dream to Alas.

A lying pale man whose breath came out hardly, her uncle, a poor dying man and she falling on her knees in front of him. His deeply sunken eyes with a thin red line around, a stare of misery mixed with a sort of happiness.

Alas didn’t know how long she stayed there holding his rough cold hand until his last breathing out and the only word she recognised in a constant sequence of gasps and groans was „thank you“ which provoked her to cry.

When Myrion touched her shoulder implying her to move she didn’t react. Myrion had to guide her spiritless body out. The dream continued with Myrion activating the explosive charge at the entrance. In an incredible short moment of flashpoint she thought she saw an unsteady figure of her uncle walking toward the entrance.

A sound of the explosion suddenly interrupted her dream and she saw a rock avalanche coming down forming a rock tomb. Her widely opened eyes still reflected the last moment of flashpoint.

EPILOGUE

Alas accompanied Myrion for several days through Plaguelands while she was deeply lost in thoughts. When they reached the Light’s Hope Chapel Myrion headed to wilderness again and alone.

Light’s Hope Chapel has changed, a new wall has been raised and a stone church has replaced an old one. The Light triumphed here. Young priestess visited the church and spent a day and night on her prayers.

Early morning she regained her consciousness. For a short moment of awakening she saw a soft, almost invisible light around and she lowered her head smiling. She knew where did she come from now, she understood her place and again chose a way.

The Light will prevail.