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| Details |
| Author: | Saaron |
| Summary: | Iphindra goes on an adventure to prove herself within Cobalt Company. This leads her to the Western Plaguelands, where she's supposed to find a locket. She follows closely adventurers on that same mission, and makes a new friend along the way. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Iphindra let go of the gryphon’s reins. She extends her arms and breathes in these waves of pure wind crashing against her. Her long hair flows behind her, dandelions growing in between these green strands shed their seeds that flutter softly back to the earth of Azeroth. Not only were gryphon rides always so exciting, but Iphindra was even more joyous than she usually was; she had found a mission to prove herself within Cobalt Company!
She looked for the hardest quest she could find in the Eastern Kingdom. After all, if she wanted to prove she was ready to work in Northrend, she needed to work in a similarly accursed place. That’s what brought her to fly to the Western Plaguelands. Doing her mission there, surely, she would show that working in Northrend was nothing to be scared of!
Listening to the woman’s tale made Iphindra what Linwel called ‘sad’. Her ears drooped, and she felt all of her body – her shoulders first – pulled into the earth. She felt the corner of her eyes getting heavier, as if pulled by something. Water? Was that what people called tears?
But the druid felt better now, flying on that gryphon, feeling the power of the sky when it’s not constrained by tall trees or buildings.
The story about that Andorhal woman, losing her husband and a teenage son to the Scourge, slipped her mind on the way there. That Iphindra had to go to such a place to retrieve a locket, as proof that they were resting – whether they are when she finds the locket is not something the woman wishes to know – that was gone with the wind. But not completely, A parasite was feeding inside of Iphindra’s stomach, it seemed, making it twist, even when the rest of her body and mind should feel happy, at peace. Anxiety – although she doesn’t know that word yet.
What seemed to appease that unwanted feeling, however, was the fact that she wasn’t going alone; Indeed, a group of adventurers had accepted the woman’s quest moments before Iphindra did, and the druid was hopeful she could catch up to them if she hurried.
It’s with all these feelings, some unwanted, some not, that she set off from Stormwind, flying all the way north to the Argent Dawn camp in the Western Plaguelands.
Iphindra lands, and if she felt on top of the world on the back of that gryphon, every inch closer to this diseased land felt like descending into hell itself.
As soon as her feet touch the ground, Iphindra begins feeling dizzy. She looks around in Chillwind Camp, but can’t make out all the details. All is blurry. She braced herself for a nature that was screaming in pain, but instead, she is being attacked by soft, dying whispers all around. The Plaguelands were aptly named. Iphindra feels the land’s pain in her own body, and she suffers with it. She feels nausea, a powerful one, sending shivers down her whole body. She looks at the nearby grass, shakes her head, then runs to the nearby path to puke. Hopefully, this is how she can get rid of that feeling in her stomach she had the whole way there, she thinks.
A thick mist covers the land, and once she’s done, there’s a doubt in Iphindra’s mind that she will even ever make it back to the camp. A doubt that dissipates fast as one of the guards comes to check on her, and brings her back to safety. She has no time to stay, however, as she learns that the three adventurers have left for the fallen city already.
“We have to go, come with me!” Iphindra says to him, hurriedly, throwing seeds under a ghoul and growing vines around its feet. Her eyes dart towards a man in a dark robe, raising two skeletal creatures.
“Get me out of here, please!” he says.
The vines growing on Iphindra go through incredible growth, surrounding her with thorns. She runs behind him, being a little slower than him. Her vines throw themselves at the ghouls as they get too close, quickly reaching the ground and tying the undead to the ground. Every vine, any seed that touches the ground of the Plaguelands is doomed, and they know it. Iphindra knows it. For everyone that does to protect her, the druid’s heart breaks a little. A flower closes on her head.
They run further from Andorhal, to safety. The ghouls have seemed to stop chasing them, either losing their tracks in the mist or getting distracted by something else.
“We’re… safe here,” she says in Common, helping him remove the armor around his face. She begins petting his forehead, trying to calm him down. “What happened?”
For a second, he looks at her with his dark beady eyes, contrasting with his perfectly white fur. His ears pulled back, he keeps throwing quick glances behind him. “We were to stay there, waiting for our masters!” He hits the ground with his hooves, as if ready to charge away further. “They left, and soon after one of the monsters saw us. Then more! The others… The others could not free themselves from where they were tied. I ran, and…” He shakes his head, trying to push Iphindra’s hands away, but she holds on, stroking his neck.
“It’s okay. I will get your master. Follow the path of stones here, run fast, it will take you to a camp of good people.” The horse slowly seems to calm down. “Go! And remember; follow the stone path. Do not let the mist hide it from you. You will get to safety soon.”
Iphindra smiles at him, then walks silently through the dead trees, back to where she found the horse in the first place, looking for a trail of defeated undead that would lead her straight to three adventurers.
Iphindra walks past the unresponsive abomination in front of a home, slowly opening the front door and walking in. There, she founds four bodies – a ghoul, two humans, and a gnome.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you two back,” Iphindra says, to one of the humans and to the gnome lying on the floor. She turns to the last of the two humans, a man wearing a white and golden robe. Right before she attempts to bring him back, she hears a noise coming from another room. A groaning, and footsteps approaching. She realizes her mistake of speaking out loud, and hides in the shadows, in the corner of the room. A ghoul – slightly smaller than most – walks in and paces around in the room. It roams from one side to the other, and Iphindra stands in the corner covering her mouth with her hands. The creature walks slowly, sniffing the air, searching for the source of the noises it had heard. Iphindra observes it, looking for the locket around its neck. As she doesn’t find one, she comes to a conclusion; that must be the son. A flower from her head withers and a few petals flutter, falling to the ground.
A subtle movement the ghoul notices almost immediately, its head turning toward Iphindra instantly. The ghoul shambles in her direction. She tries to stay calm, inhaling silently and holding onto that breath. The undead creature keeps approaching, getting closer and closer, to the point that the elf can feel its raggedy, irregular breath on her skin. However, she doesn’t move. If she does, she knows the ghoul will be able to see her, and she isn’t sure she’d be able to kill a ghoul like this. She’ll avoid fighting as much as she can.
The ghoul suddenly stops, only inches from Iphindra. It leans towards the ground, the druid feeling the hair on its head brushing against her elbow, and it picks up the petals. Uninterested, the ghoul drops them back down and makes its way back into another room.
Iphindra closes her eyes, sighing with relief into her hands. She waits a few more moments before coming out of the shadows, and going to the priest, finally beginning to attempt a reincarnation ritual.
Her hands glow green as she begins drawing natural shapes into the with her fingers. A bed of flowers grows under the man’s body. Iphindra raises her hands up and soon enough, ghostly vines grow from the blossoms, reaching towards the sky. A hand appears, reaching back for the vines. A smile shines brightly on Iphindra’s face as the vines wrap around the appearing arm, and drag the man’s soul back into his body. He opens his eyes, sitting straight immediately, his hands resting on the flowers, stroking them for comfort. He looks around, breathing rapidly. “The—The abomination! We were… ambushed inside and they—And I—” he looks around, his eyes stopping on his friends, resting in similar beds of flowers, unresponsive.
“I—I couldn’t bring them back, I’m sorry,” she says. “Careful, the son will come back soon, be ready. What is your name?”
“E—Enan,” he stares at the bodies, tears welling up in his eyes. “We—I have the locket, from the father. Take it, take it now!” he almost throws it at her. She catches it, looking a bit lost. “I’m getting them out of here!”
“You—You can’t, Enan! It’s very dangerous out, you won’t be able to take both out of here. You died, you are weakened for now, and the son is—”
As if on cue, the ghoul comes out of an adjacent room and rushes at them, growling, clawing Iphindra’s back as she looks at Enan. Vines throw themselves at the ghoul, wrapping themselves at its feet and making it fall down. Enan and Iphindra move away from it, flowers shedding their petals around Iphindra’s wounds. They brush against the claw marks on her back, slowly healing them, as she looks in horror at the creature that attacked her.
Iphindra takes a deep, shaky breath, looking at the ghoul stabbing the wooden ground with its claws, trying to pull itself from the vines. “Please, t—take your gnome friend.”
“What about Elwing?”
“I—I will handle Elwing. I am with Cobalt Company, I am strong! Take the gnome friend… now, please!”
Enan gets up, jumping over the ghoul’s claws as it tries to hit him as he walks past. He grabs the gnome’s body.
Iphindra gets up approaching the ghoul. “You are in pain, I feel it. I’m sorry, I wish I could help in an other way,” the plants around the ghoul’s feet grow, wrapping around its hands and making it stand up. “You are soon free. Free to continue Life.” She gets even closer to the ghoul as it frenetically tries biting her. The vines grow again, immobilizing it fully. Iphindra gently strokes its hair. “Death, even undeath, they are not endings. They are only one stage of all Life. I will help you go to the next one.” She kisses the ghoul on the forehead, the flowers in her hair wrapping gently around them, while the vines around the creature tighten more and more.
“You waited for me!” Iphindra says, her eyes shining brightly.
“Who are you talking t—” Enan stops in his sentence, looking at the white horse standing on the path, staring at them.
Iphindra, with difficulty, escapes Andorhal, carrying the human warrior, with the priest holding a gnome in his arms and running in front of her. They took the same path she did to get there and avoided most fights. The few times they were spotted by an undead, plants or Light chains helped to slow them down.
The white horse approaches and softly hits his forehead against the human body. “She’s cold.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I could not save Elwing…”
Enan stares at them, unsure if he should start running or if she’s truly speaking with the horse.
“What am I to do now?”
Iphindra attaches Elwing’s body to the saddle. “Carry her. Find a good place for her to continue Life. And maybe after, I can stay with you? Would you like that?” She runs her hand through the horse’s mane using her fingers intertwined with the locket’s chain, gesturing for him to start moving down the path to her side. The horse responds by gently bumping his muzzle against her head. “What is your name?”
“He’s called Blizzard” Enan interrupts.
Iphindra pauses, looking at Enan for a second, then turning to the horse. She smiles at him. “Is that a name you like?”
Soon, a report reaches the Cobalt Company headquarters detailing what happened. The Common is a little odd, but still, it was written with as many details as possible, which include the good, and the bad parts of the events described. It was signed by Iphindra, Enan Sutherland of the Church of the Holy Light, High Priestess MacDonnell of the Argent Dawn, Eliza Baker of Andorhal, and a certain Birch.