Welcome to Gaia! ::

For the next week Shiawase spent as little time near the town as possible. He occupied himself by patrolling the roads constantly. He didn’t even give himself the leisure to make a trip to the shoreline for clams. Occasionally he would peek into the island from the far bank of the river and watch the townsfolk go about their business, to assure himself that nothing had happened and that the island was peaceful and safe. Stormrage remained with the town to discuss defenses with the Sentinels, and Faldreas gave him a wide berth. At night Shiawase occasionally snuck into the town and left the results of his hunts at the inn and Whitemoon's doorstep.

Every loud sound, every shout sent Shia scrambling to the bank of the river, ready to fight. Whenever he wasn't patrolling he was thinking of the weak points in the town's defenses. Whenever an Orc or Troll would wander further than the lumber mill's usual perimeter he would stalk it relentlessly until it returned. If a lone Horde warrior made his way too close to the town Shia appeared in front of him, and if he was given a fight he would kill his opponent quickly and leave the body for the wolves. Only when he could hardly drag his paws across the ground and his eyes were so heavy his vision was becoming blurred would Shia crawl up a tree to get some rest.

His dreams, once his haven, granted him no respite from the tension of the day. The nightmare he had experienced while in Stormwind had not returned, but neither had his former dreaming state. It was replaced with a fitful sleep full of hazy shapes, cold whispers, and an uneasy sensation with no definable source. It seemed to him that when he woke he was more exhausted than before he had gone to sleep. Things were becoming so bad that even in the middle of the day a chill would pass him by, and a bubbling whisper would tingle in the back of his mind, followed by the sharp smell of rot. Shia did his best to ignore it all. His duty was now protecting Astranaar, he couldn’t let anything prevent him from that task.

He was taking a rest from his vigil when a rap on the tree he was lying in startled him awake. There was someone at the trunk, looking up at him. A troll! With a roar he leapt from the branches, meaning to pounce on the intruder and rip his head off, but the figure hopped deftly to the side and with a movement of his hands wrapped Shia up tight in a bundle of roots.

"Having a bad night brother?"

Standing above Shia was Stormrage, with a twitch of amusement playing at the corner of his mouth. As the roots settled back down into the ground Shiawase returned to his Elf form, stood up, and bowed an apology. "It's been nothing but bad nights lately."

Stormrage narrowed his eyes. "Nightmares?"

"No, just...an uneasiness."

"I see." Stormrage looked down on Shia passively. "Are you having any other problems?"

"Excuse me?"

"Delusions, shakes, paranoia..."

Shiawase frowned. He was upset, not sick. "No, I don't believe so. Why do you ask?"

Stormrage continued his scrutiny of his companion before nodding to himself. "Well, no matter. Don't concern yourself with it and keep watch over the town. I'm returning to Stonetalon Peak in the morning."

"Already? But the threat here isn't over yet!"

"It won't be over for some time. But the reinforcements from Darnassus are on the road as we speak and will be in Astranaar in a matter of hours. I've neglected my promise to Keeper Albagorm for too long. It's time I went back to the grove and the Cenarions. Someone else will be arriving here to take my place. I expect you'll work with them to keep this place safe."

Shiawase nodded grimly. "I won't let the town down again."

"Good. I'm glad you haven't made any moves to return to those human friends of yours. You'll be needed here for a while more. But if you don't rest you won't be any use to anyone."

Shia nodded but brushed the comment aside in his mind. He needed to stay awake and stay alert. Anything could happen at any time.

"When the reinforcements arrive come into town and meet with them. Good night brother."

"Good night brother." The two bowed to each other and Stormrage strode off. Shia climbed back into his tree for a few more hours of fitful sleep.

The forest was settling into the transition between day and night. The last of the day birds were calling to each other and the howl of wolves echoed off the far off mountains. The entire sky was lit up with the fiery red of the sunset and met the blazing leaves of the fall canopy seamlessly. Shiawase crunched through the fallen leaves looking for something to eat. His stomach growled at him impatiently, and he twitched his cat nose about for a sniff of a rabbit, or a deer.

There, the lovely smell of a small family of deer caught his nose, and Shia made his way towards the scent. He would catch a little fawn, drag it up into the trees, and feast on it as he watched the sky slowly transform from a fiery ceiling to an endless expanse of starlight. There they were, a buck, two doe, and a little baby, jumping about on little legs from spot to spot, stopping occasionally to nibble on some grass or a twig. Shia hunched himself up in preparation to pounce.

Suddenly the wind changed direction and a freezing gust hit Shiawase from behind. The deer in front of him jerked to attention; they had caught his scent. Another gust flew by with a howl, and the deer were off with it, jumping through the trees as fast as their legs would carry them. Shiawase's stomach cried out in disappointment. They wouldn't get away that easily. He growled and dashed after them.

The deer had gotten a head start, but Shia was much faster. He was gaining on them with every step until they took a turn into a thick patch of underbrush. Shia followed them and as soon as he emerged through the think greenery coiled himself up for the final pounce, but there was no ground under him to land on. He had jumped straight over a steep, pebbly decline. The Druid was forced to concentrate on keeping himself upright as he slid down on jagged rocks. The friction and the little stones had wrecked havoc to the pads of his paws, as sturdy as the were, and once at the base of the incline he sat down to let them recover and inspect the damage. His feet were bleeding, the deer had disappeared, and his stomach was still empty. He gave one of his forepaws a tender lick and immediately began gagging. His paws tasted as if he had just trod through carrion.

Shia looked about him. He had landed on flat ground devoid of vegetation. The ground under him was black, and soft, so that by his weight alone Shia had left an indent in the soil three inches deep. The smell of meat left out in the sun for weeks was radiating off of it in visible whips of smoke. Shia wondered how it was possible that he hadn’t sensed something so foul before. A number of paces in front of him Shia could see the treeline, but there was something odd about the greenery at the edge. The wood of the trees looked fused, warped, charred, unnatural. Shia glanced to either side of him. The black soil stretched out like a road both ways, as if something larger than an entire herd of kodo had passed by and left this trail in its wake. Behind him the incline he had fallen from blocked his way. The ground was too lose and the incline too steep for it to be climbed.

Although the unpleasant reek of the ground was hampering his senses, Shia began to follow the blackened path in search of some clue to its origin. He pranced gingerly in the unnatural soil, sticking to the pebbly ground of the incline as often as he could.

He had been walking for almost an hour when in the distance he saw a thick black cloud hugging the ground. Shia picked up his pace. As he came closer he could see clearly that the cloud was meeting the blackened soil in the distance, and that it was hovering there, still, as some gaseous tower. The smell of rot was growing stronger with each step Shia took.

The cloud was only a few feet in front of him now, so thick it was opaque. It spanned the whole of the rotten strip and was creeping forward at a snail’s pace. The trees on the side shriveled away from it like paper against a fire.

And then the cloud stopped. Shia froze, ready to bolt at the faintest sign of danger, but his reflexes were too slow, and he was engulfed in the swirling black gust. For a moment he could hear a distant wailing, and then the wind was still and the air was silent. Shia could smell nothing and see nothing, and his extremities were slowly turning stiff with cold.

His growl was strangled in his throat before it could escape. Not that thing again, he prayed, not that nightmare…

A shape began to form in the dark, but it was not that of a Son of Cenarius. It was a man, an Elf. Slowly, as if unsure of his footing, he made his way towards Shia. Still frozen in place as a cat, Shia could do nothing but watch his approach warily.

The Elf bowed to Shia. “Elune-Adore,” he gasped. There was something winded and slow about his speech that put Shia on edge. His eyes were dull. His skin was as pale as soot. And as he spoke it seemed as if he looked through Shia blindly.

“I am…glaaad to seee you. Have you… cooome…to join us?” At every other word the Elf paused to catch is breath. One of his hands clutched at his chest, as if he were in deep pain.

Shia tried to let out a mrowl in reply, but found he was still rendered mute.

“The mooortals of the waaaking world have… failed. Their poison…Azeroth…corrupts our beauuutiful Dream. Weee will… stop them.”

The Druid extended a motted hand towards Shia, who for all his willing could not so much as growl. But he had to escape. He had to fight his way out of his place, to avoid the touch of this thing that could not be a true Druid.

“Obey, Druid.” The Elf’s haggard voice was falling away, and something hushed and urgent was replacing it, something familiar. “Obey, and create the world as it was meant to exist. Wipe the mortal races from the land and usher in the true order!”

Move Shia! He willed himself. Move! Move!

He could feel his muscles burning as they began to ache from the strain, but it was not enough. The Elf placed his hand on Shia’s head, and the light touch felt as if a tree had fallen onto him. Shia’s entire head exploded in pain as the image of the other Elf disappeared and was replaced with a wall of white. Shia’s body seized up with the cold, and his concentration was engulfed in a chorus of screaming. And above it all rang out a bellowing voice, calling out, “YOU ARE MINE.”

Shiawase awoke with his clothes soaked in sweat. The tree he had been leaning against had warped and twisted under him, as if it had been clay and some giant had pushed his thumb into it where Shia had rested his head. The grass around him had turned black, and the ground was churned with roots yanked out from the earth and laying about the ground, dead and shrivled. Clutching his chest for breath, and shivering from the cold still clinging to his limbs, he tried to remember, hadn’t he gone to sleep in the tree and not under it?

The town bell rang; the reinforcements were coming in from Darnassus. They were already establishing themselves in the town when Shiawase slunk across the bridge. The townsfolk were so busy meeting them and arranging for their quarters that they didn't give the Druid a second glance, and Shia was able to make it to Stormrage without having to exchange any greetings with the villagers.

Stormrage was talking to two Elves, who by their posture and garb were marked immediately as fellow Druids. The first had moon white hair held up in a high ponytail and a thick beard. His face was almost as white as his hair and his beady eyes glowed out from under two bushes for eyebrows. The second was clean-shaven, with more modest light blue hair braided behind him. His skin was darker as well, and noticeably gruff looking. Across his face from the top of his right ear down across his cheek to his chin ran a dark scar. Both Druids seemed considerably older than Shiawase, perhaps Stormrage's age. Shia surprised the urge to groan and stepped up to introduce himself.

The Druid with the scar noticed Shia's approach first, and his eyes instantly locked onto him with an intense scrutiny.

Stormrage turned and beckoned Shia over. "This is Shiawase Deeproots."

Shia bowed and smiled.

"This is Cirrimor Brightwell," he said, motioning to the white haired elf. "And this is Andhol Bearwalker." Cirrimor bowed and Andhol nodded sternly. "They’ve been assigned to the defense of the Gulch, but are doing me the favor of keeping an eye on Astranaar when time permits. As they are here as official envoys from Darnassus, you'll report to them as you would to the heads in the city."

Shiawase nodded again. He opened his mouth for a greeting of some sort, but Andhol cut him off.

"How have your dreams been brother?"

"My dreams?"

"That's what I said."

Shia clenched his fists. "Ah, they've been fine."

"Mmm. You've been sleeping well?"

"... not really."

The three elves nodded and watched him passively, as if waiting for something.

Shia twiddled his toes impatiently "Um... is something wrong?"

"No." Andhol said quickly. "We were simply curious."

"I see."

Brightwell smiled. "Jakabi tells me you've been keeping watch over this town quite vigilantly since it was attacked. I hope we can enjoy your continued assistance in the matter of Astranaar's defense."

"Of course."

"But perhaps you don't need to be vigilant to the point of self neglect."

Bearwalker's face seemed to loosen a little as he chuckled. "You do look a little haggard brother."

Shia looked down at himself. His leather vest was almost torn to shreds and the fabric of his trousers from his knees down had all but dissapeared. His shirt was still wet from when he had woken. Shia put a self conscious hand behind his head and realized that his hair was tangled and full to capacity with twigs and berries. The blood instantly rose to his face and with an embarrassed laugh he tried to pat the nest of his hair back down into something less terrible. All three Druids laughed with him, or at him. He couldn't quite tell.

Brightwell smiled at Shia. "Get yourself cleaned up brother. The war can wait for your shower."

“I’ll accompany you,” Stormrage added, and put his hand on Shia’s shoulder. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. If you’d excuse us.”

The three Elves waved their goodbyes and Stormrage practically dragged Shia away, out of the crowd of Elves and to the far side of town. There he squared Shia in front of him and gave the younger Elf a stern glare.

“I want you to watch those two closely,” he ordered. “They’ve been close friends of mine for a long time, but lately they’ve been acting oddly, especially Andhol. Take care that he doesn’t do anything unbecoming of a Druid.”

“Such as?”

“You’ll know if you see it.”

Shia nodded and tried to look less confused than he was. “And if he does do anything?”

“I want you to report to me, immediately.”

“I understand.”

Stormrage nodded, but remained frowning. Shia turned to go but found himself still held firmly by the shoulders. “You’re not the person I would choose for this,” Stormrage continued. “You’re too young and weak in your conviction yet. But you’re all there is at the moment, and this is important. Keep yourself vigilant Druid.”

The urge to roll his eyes almost over came him, but Shiawase nodded with a straight face. Stormrage was right about one thing at least, he had to remain vigilant.

“And one more thing. That Faldreas is trouble. When I leave I have no doubt he’ll make an attempt on the lumber camp again, and when he does, stop him.”

“Right.”

“And if you find you can’t stop him, let those Orcs stop him for you. Don’t get yourself killed on any suicide missions. Our duty is more important than that. Now then, I’ll leave you to your bath.”

Congratulations!! heart biggrin