The Tranquil City
Tolkar stood for a moment and looked around. True, the shaman was more attuned to the elements and preferred roaming in open spaces, but it had been some time since he had stepped foot in a city, especially one of this size. The pilgrimage he had chosen to take had helped calm and clear his mind and soul, but he had missed the joy of traveling with his companions. He had often wondered if he would ever see them again; it would be good to return to familiar faces.
And, familiar buildings, the shaman thought to himself as he entered a large structure just to the left of the main path.
“Ah, it feels good to be in an armor shop once again,” spoke Tolkar. His gruff voice attracted the attention of the vendor, a middle-aged human woman. “Good morning, ma’am,” the tauren greeted her.
“Good morning,” she replied courteously, “what can I do for you?”
Tolkar unearthed a piece of jade about twice the size of one of his massive fists. He had still kept it on his person from the reward from finding the pandaren cartographer trapped in the Jade Witch’s house.
“I’m looking to get some new armor infused with jade that will enhance my shamanic spells. How much would that cost?”
The vendor’s eyes grew wide as she studied the large volume of the precious stone. “Since you brought your own material for the infusion,” she began, “I can offer you a lower price on the armor. Three thousand gold.”
Tolkar thought for a moment and nodded. “That sum is agreeable.”
“We will manufacture the armor here then you can take it to the magisters’ guild up the street to get it infused with the jade.”
“How long will that take?”
“Several hours in total. You are free to explore or stay here if you wish.”
“Very well.”
The vendor left the counter for several minutes to speak with the blacksmith then returned to address Tolkar. “Is there anything else I can do for you--”
Without warning, a dark figure encircled by shadows appeared to materialize out of thin air just a few paces away from Tolkar near the wall. The woman let out a small gasp and stepped backwards while the tauren, unfazed, walked up to the newcomer with a chuckle.
“Ah, hello, friend,” he greeted the other, “I must admit I did not expect to run into you here. What brings you to these parts?”
“A messenger who knows the fox sent us here,” Sahtra replied, “we are to meet a contact for our next mission.”
“I-I’m sorry, the vendor stuttered, “you know this…this ghost?”
Sahtra ignored her. “And you,” he continued, addressing Tolkar, “how fares your pilgrimage?”
“I have learned a great deal of the secrets mother Azeroth holds,” Tolkar answered, “but I had missed seeing living beings that were not flora or fauna. It is refreshing to be here.”
Sahtra nodded.
“Oh, if I may ask,” the tauren inquired gently, “how is little Mori doing?”
“Getting into trouble as always,” the death knight laughed, “I almost used my chains on her once so she wouldn’t run off and get hurt. Reckless child; she acts before she thinks.”
Tolkar laughed. “That sounds like her, all right.” He thought to himself for a moment. “Say, is there anything you need? Armor or weapons?”
The death knight patted the blades on his back fondly. “No, I think I have just what I need here,” he replied.
“Very well,” the tauren nodded, “I would like to buy a present for Mori, then. Please meet me back here around mid-afternoon.”
Sahtra nodded and disappeared once again.
Tolkar turned to the human woman at the counter. “There is one other thing I would like to purchase.”
“Yes?” The vendor snapped out of her stupor and turned to Tolkar.
“I am looking for a nice staff, one fit for a necromancer.”
A necromancer? The woman turned pale. This was certainly not her average afternoon. First, she had been visited by an apparition that felt like the embodiment of death itself, and now this tauren was asking for a staff to enhance someone’s necromantic abilities.
“We have several here who…dabble in that kind of magic,” the vendor spoke with a frown, “but they are once again located at the magisters’ guild. I will place your order with them.”
“Thank you,” replied Tolkar, “Oh, and before I forget, the staff needs to be of shorter length than usual. This necromancer is a child.”
“A child?” The vendor’s eyes widened. She wasn’t sure that this tauren and his friends could get any stranger.
“I believe her favorite color is purple,” the shaman added, ignoring the mixture of disbelief and horror written on the vendor’s face.
“W-We will have the staff completed for you within a few hours as well.” The woman placed her head in her arms in an attempt to calm herself down, then jotted down the notes the tauren had given her.
“Thank you,” Tolkar spoke, “I bid you a good day.”
“Likewise,” the vendor replied as she intently watched the shaman leave the shop.
* * * * *
If there was a spell Sahtra enjoyed using as much as his death grip, it was almost certainly his wraith walk. Doors and walls meant nothing to the death knight when all he had to do was step into the shadow realm and bypass the obstacle. And, with little consideration of what the vendors would think of him, Sahtra wraith walked through the armor and potion shops, the magisters’ guild, and several markets all the way through to the northernmost sector of the city. Along the way, he winked at a woman here, spooked an unsuspecting child there, and at the end, found himself spectating a sparring match between two young soldiers, likely trainees of the capital’s military.
The death knight smiled wistfully, removing a charcoal-colored rock from his pocket. It was a scourgestone of special strength, granted to him by the Lich King when he assumed his position as High Commander. The stone, once holding immeasurable power as a means of location and communication with his units, now lay dormant, as dead as the soldiers Sahtra once oversaw. He put the stone away and examined more closely the duel between the two trainees, frowning at their clumsy grip on their weapons and their poor posture. Aside from his prowess on the battlefield, Sahtra had been known as an inspiring and effective instructor, and he had been one of those who were responsible for training new death knights. His trainer’s instincts manifested, and he could no longer keep himself from simply watching.
“No, no, not like that! Like this!” The death knight marched right up to one of the young soldiers and held his shoulders, rotating his body to demonstrate. “Use your waist when you strike. Empower your blows.” Sahtra adjusted the arms of the other soldier, who had, to his convenience, frozen in place at the shock of being so directly approached by a death knight. “Your sword handling is weak. Your stance is wrong. Using your arm strength alone will leave you fatigued on the battlefield earlier than you would be with proper positioning.” The young soldier blinked and looked at him quizzically.
Sahtra shook his head in disappointment and took several steps back, unsheathing his runeblade and holding it out in front of him with both hands. He slightly parted his legs and placed a small bend in his knees, adopting a more flexible stance.
“Make your swings flow,” the death knight spoke as he swung at a training dummy, cleaving it in half, “and let gravity do the work for you. Think of the sword as an extension of yourself. Let its momentum from the movement allow you to easily transition into the next blow in fluid motion.” Sahtra took several paces to the right and cut rapidly through another training dummy as the young soldiers watched in awe.
“That was excellent swordsmanship, sir.” The death knight turned his head to the left and looked down at an elderly gnome with a bald head save for a few tufts of grey hair near the temples. He sported an equally grey moustache that curled upwards at the tips. Sahtra chuckled. “But of course,” he replied smugly, “I wasn’t High Commander of the Scourge without reason.”
The gnome paled briefly, feeling even smaller than his stature would suggest. What was such a high ranking officer of the Scourge doing in this city? And why was he not attempting to kill everyone on sight? The gnome decided not to think too deeply on the matter.
Shifting uncomfortably in his small boots, he finally mustered the courage to speak again to the death knight. “Many of these young ones have not seen combat yet, much less held a weapon,” the gnome continued, “but they are eager to learn so they can defend their homes and families.”
Sahtra let out a quiet snort, resisting the urge to comment on their obvious lack of experience.
“I know not what brings you here,” spoke the gnome, “but it is apparent that you are far more skilled in combat than myself or the other trainers here. If you have the time, sir, would you…perhaps…be willing to give our soldiers some advice?” He looked up at Sahtra as the latter silently considered the gnome’s request. His cold helm stared back at the increasingly nervous gnome, who sighed in relief when the death knight finally nodded.
“Thank you, thank you so much, kind sir,” the gnome spoke hurriedly, “soldiers, assemble!”
Answering his call, several dozen soldiers, most of them young adults, gathered in a rough formation spanning the training grounds.
“This man,” the gnome announced, gesturing to Sahtra, “is a soldier of renowned combat experience and swordsmanship. He has generously agreed to take time out of his schedule to give you some advice on establishing yourselves on the battlefield. Please give him your full attention.” The gnome turned to the death knight. “All yours, sir.”
“Thank you.” Sahtra looked around at the soldiers. Most wore a grey-white uniform with the emblem of the golden dragon on it, and their cleanliness reflected their inexperience. The way they had sat down, too – some leaning, some slouching – spoke of poor posture, fatigue, or even doubt. The death knight planted his cursed axe in the grass as he made mental notes of what he would have to address.
“The most important thing to remember on the battlefield,” Sahtra began, “is that you fight with your mind as much as your body. Steel your heart and your resolve. Never beg for mercy. Look and act as the determined soldier you claim you are. Sit up straight and keep your chin up when I address you. Understood?”
A series of ayes shot up from the crowd as several of the soldiers rearranged themselves into a more attentive posture.
“Good. Now, a word about showing off your bravery. It is foolish. Never reveal your blade if you are not willing to kill. Only cowards use their weapons to scare the weak; it will not scare any opponents who are worthy and therefore likely lethal.” The death knight took several steps closer to the assembled group of soldiers. “If I hear word that any of you on this desolate island are doing this,” he spoke in a warning, his deathly haunting voice sending chills down many a trainee’s spine, “I will personally wraith walk into your dreams and haunt your nightmares so that you may never know rest.”
This put several of the soldiers at unease, and they shifted around nervously, murmuring to themselves and placing weapons back into their sheaths. Sahtra laughed heartily at their discomfort. They would need some training in mental fortitude, he noted to himself.
“The final thing to remember is that the battlefield is not all fame and glory.” The death knight’s tone became somber to emphasize the gravity of his words. “It will get ugly. Lives will be lost.” Some of the soldiers became nervous. “It is important to go into battle with honor and valor, regardless,” Sahtra continued, “You will have to sacrifice everything to protect those around you, your families and your homes.” He raised his voice for the final message. “Put your heart into it and do better than your best!”
At his last remark, the soldiers let out a loud cheer. Several even stood up, invigorated. The gnome took a few steps forward and called out, “Now, now, settle down! I realize the words of the death knight may have inspired you to return immediately to training, but we must do so in an orderly fashion.” He turned to the human. “Is there anything more you wish to say?”
Sahtra shook his head. “I am done, thank you for granting me this opportunity.”
The gnome turned back to the trainees. “Return to your posts! Death knight, feel free to stay a while longer and provide some direct feedback to our young ones. I would also like to assure you that what you told them will remain in their hearts and minds as they prepare for battle.”
“My pleasure,” Sahtra chuckled. And it had indeed been a pleasure. It had been several years since he had last commanded or instructed soldiers of any kind, and he felt genuine happiness at reliving his old position, albeit with different students. The death knight freely roamed around the training grounds, offering critique and criticism, and laughing at the occasional soldier who claimed he would achieve victory by believing in the Light.
* * * * *
“Bye-bye!” Mori waved to the troll standing guard at the gate, and her undead followed suit. She turned back to the main street and opened her mouth in awe, her lips forming a smile as she took in the hustle and bustle of the city. The capital was lined with large buildings at its center and rows and rows of houses along the outskirts behind the wall. The atmosphere in the city reminded Mori of Silvermoon, and she felt compelled to roam about.
“I’m going to explore the city!” the young blood elf exclaimed and ran off to the left. Sahtra glanced in her direction for a brief moment. It seemed safe enough here, he thought to himself, and she would get to take a break from constant combat and injury.
Mori ran down the block to a corner where a night elf woman and a draenei couple stood across the narrow road facing each other. There seemed to be people of many races in the capital despite the island’s proximity to mainland Pandaria. Interesting, she mused, I wonder how they all got here.
“Good morning, friend!” the male draenei called out to the night elf, “How are you doing on this fine day?”
“A good morning to you, neighbor,” replied the night elf, “I’m doing well, and yourself?”
“Ach, the food resources are a bit low for all of us,” the man responded with a sigh, “it makes it difficult to feed the children at times. But the naaru are still watching over us, and we will keep persevering. We couldn’t be in better spirits!”
“That’s good to hear,” a soft smile spread across the night elf’s face, “and I see the missus appears to be of better health. Has the fever passed?”
“Yes, it has, thankfully,” the female draenei spoke up, “a dash of the herbs you gave me mixed in with my tea did just the trick!”
“Wonderful!” the night elf’s purple eyes lit up with joy. “Please let me know if I can ever be of assistance again.”
“I will, thank you so much!”
The night elf waved to the couple and returned to her home. Mori took a few moments to study the night elf’s garden full of herbs and blossoms then turned the corner and ran off. The child came across an alleyway to her left and decided to go through it. At the other end, she came across a burly man leaning against a brick wall surrounded by three women. A high elf, vulpera, and gnome seemed to be arguing with each other about something.
“Your muscles are toned, but your stature is not too heavy,” mused the high elf aloud, her blue eyes sparkling, “quite impressive for a human.”
“Yes, I train every day to keep these boys in top shape.” The man flexed both arms, and the high elf swooned among protests from the other two women.
“My you’re a tall one,” gushed the gnome, “I’ve always wanted a tall and strong man to carry me over my threshold.”
“I could lift your little body quite easily,” the man spoke as he bent down to look into the gnome’s green eyes, “but I must be careful not to hit my head!”
The vulpera snuck in between the human and the gnome. “If you want to pick me up, I’m quite comfortable to hug and pet,” she picked up her tail, stroking it tenderly, “if you like that,” and winked at the man.
“That sounds quite nice, yes,” he thought aloud as he stood back up and once again leaned against the brick wall. He bore a grin on his face at the thought.
The high elf pouted. “But perhaps you want someone your own size!” she whined as she threw herself onto the human, her body pinning his against the wall. The gnome and vulpera struggled to bring her arms down and cried in protest. “No, he’s mine!” the high elf easily shrugged them off.
“Ladies, ladies, please!” The human reached for the high elf’s golden hair and pushed the long locks aside. “I’m going to be very sad if you keep arguing over me!”
Liar, Mori thought to herself as she frowned. She could easily tell the man was enjoying the attention. The young blood elf walked to the edge of the block and turned left. She found herself at what looked to be training grounds for soldiers. Two of them were sparring whilst being coached by the death knight, but she wasn’t particularly interested in combat. Sahtra, on the other hand, appeared to be enjoying himself quite a bit. Mori did not think she had ever seen the death knight happier than how he looked now, working with the young soldiers. He looked like a firm teacher, but a kind one.
“There’s no point in bothering him now,” the young blood elf murmured to herself, “I’ll go see what else I can do while he’s busy.” Mori walked back down the main street, glancing from sign to sign until she found herself in front of—
“A bookstore! Yay!” The young blood elf ran into the shop, followed by her two undead. The necromancer ordered her summons to sit quietly at the end of a large table located in the center of the room, and they obeyed. Mori glanced around the shop to find its owner, an elven woman with deep periwinkle skin and long white hair flowing down to her shoulders. On top she had a small bun and a crown of pink and white flowers. Mori was not sure that she had seen this kind of elf before; the woman looked kind of like a night elf, but the ears, and the eyes, they were different!
“Hi, lady!” Mori greeted the bookseller after studying her appearance some more. The woman wore a long, dark magenta robe lined in silver and decorated with purple gems. A black cat, which Mori assumed belonged to her, hopped down from the counter and rubbed itself against the young blood elf’s legs.
“Welcome, my dear—come back, Boo! Leave the child alone.” The dark elf gracefully walked over to Mori and picked up the cat, stroking it tenderly. “Please forgive him, he gets excited when he sees new travelers enter our lovely shop. Can I help you find some books?” The woman’s voice was warm and motherly; one could tell she was used to helping out customers of all ages.
“Yes, I love to read!”
“Wonderful,” the dark elf replied, “what subjects do you like? Are you looking for a story, something with pictures in it, or even a history book perhaps?”
Mori held a finger up to her chin in thought and stared off into space for a brief moment. Her green eyes then lit up, glowing brightly as she answered, “I would like to see books on dragons and necromancy!”
Necromancy. The bookseller’s eyes widened as she realized the other guests following the child into the bookstore were probably her undead summons. Still, they seemed to pose no threat as they had absent-mindedly taken their seats at the table. The large adult creatures almost looked humorous with the way they stared at the floor without so much as a blink, and the dark elf allowed herself to chuckle at the thought.
“I think I have just the books you need!” The woman held a slender finger up to indicate that she needed a moment and turned around to look through the shelves behind her. “Here we are,” she mumbled as she pulled a large book out, “and here’s the other!” The dark elf brought both of her finds to the table and gently placed them in front of Mori. The blood elf was enthused. One book, of golden cover and binding, appeared to be a text on the five dragon aspects, and the other was similarly bound but in a deep green hue. Both were written in draconic, and Mori smiled to herself as she fondly remembered the lessons Kaelstrasza had given her to read and write in the beautiful but archaic language.
“These are the two books on dragons that I have,” began the bookseller, “feel free to browse through their pages before you decide whether you want to buy them or not.”
“Okay, I will!” Mori exclaimed as she traced the images of the dragons on the covers with her small finger then opened the first book up. The woman watched a grin break out on the young blood elf’s face as she eagerly consumed the content held inside the large books.
“There is another book that would interest you, I believe,” the dark elf started, “please give me a few moments to find it.” The blood elf nodded without looking up, and the woman hurried over to a set of shelves on the other end of the bookstore. From the bottommost one, she carefully pulled out a wooden box and lifted its latch to reveal a large blue tome. The woman brought the book over to Mori, who was intently studying an image of one of the members of the red dragonflight.
“This is the book on necromancy that I have,” began the bookseller, “it is one of several remaining copies on the planet.”
Mori quickly turned her head up at the dark elf’s recent find to study it. The cover was full of ornate silver-colored symbols and writing, with a large painting of a skull and chains. The young blood elf opened her mouth in amazement as she read the title.
“Kel’Thuzad’s Deep Knowledge! I want it!”
The young necromancer gently but quickly closed the other books and moved them aside to make space for the large tome. Her green eyes glowed fiercely with excitement as she lifted the heavy cover and turned to the first page. “The Art of Summoning Undead,” she read aloud, and soon her speech turned into murmurs then finally silence as she became completely absorbed in the knowledge the book had to offer.
“Come, little one, it is time to leave. There is someone who wants to say hello.”
Mori jumped in her seat, startled by the death knight’s voice as it broke the silence. She didn’t know how long she had been at the table reading, but the sun had moved across the sky, and its light now came down as rays through the window of the bookstore.
She looked up at the death knight. “Huh? Someone wants to see me?” Sahtra nodded in response. “Okay, I just need to pay for these first.” The child got out of her seat and walked up to the bookseller as she took out her small sack of coins.
“Which books would you like to buy?”
“All of them!” Mori exclaimed in response. She looked expectantly at the dark elf, eager to add more books to her collection at home.
The woman thought to herself for a few moments. “You know, you have been such a good reader that I am going to give you the two books on dragons for free. Consider it a gift from me for visiting my bookstore and being such a kind and pleasant guest. You have a clear passion for reading, and that makes me very happy.”
The young blood elf broke out into a wide grin. “Thanks, lady! You’re so nice!” She then motioned at the blue tome. “So, how much does that one cost?”
The bookseller’s long eyebrows drooped, seemingly in anguish. “I will admit, I did not expect you to want to purchase that one, as there are so few people who are interested after looking through the book. It is a rare print, so it costs a lot of money. Most of the original copies were destroyed with Scholomance.”
Mori looked down at her sack of coins and counted. She’d rarely used them, save for part of the trip across the Jade Forest when she had asked a flight master for directions and the use of a kite.
“I have about two hundred gold with me,” the young blood elf stated, “how much do you need?”
The woman let out a sigh. “The value of this book is…almost fifteen hundred gold,” she spoke quietly, and watched with a furrowed brow as Mori grew pale at the price.
“I, um, I’m sure I have more, more money, somewhere,” the child stammered as she checked all the pockets in her robe for items she could barter or pawn off to get the money she needed. In her distraught state, Mori did not notice Sahtra walk up to the counter and stand next to her.
“I would like to negotiate for the price of the book,” the death knight began, “five hundred gold.”
The dark elf shook her head. “I’m afraid that is too low of a sum given the condition and rarity of the book. I would be close to breaking even if I offered it for that much. I would be willing to lower it, however, to one thousand gold.”
Sahtra paused. “Seven hundred and fifty gold. Take it or leave it.”
The woman looked between the death knight and the necromancer and sighed. “We have a deal,” she spoke, “I will sell it for seven hundred and fifty gold.”
“But Sahtra,” Mori began to protest, “I don’t have that much—”
The death knight tossed a large sack of gold coins onto the counter, and the young blood elf’s jaw dropped to the floor. Sahtra picked up the book and handed it to Mori. “Here you go, little one,” he chuckled, “you can tell me all about your findings later.”
Mori stared at the precious book, now resting in her arms on top of the other two.
“Th-Thank you,” she said quietly, then exclaimed loudly with a smile, “I’m going to read all of these! I’m so excited!”
“Hurry now,” Sahtra started for the door, “he’s waiting.” He opened it, not for himself, as he could wraith walk wherever he pleased, but for the child, whose arms were full. Mori turned around one last time to grin at the shopkeeper. “Thank you, lady! Bye!”
The dark elf smiled back and, holding her black cat in one arm, waved the two travelers and the undead summons goodbye.
“So, who wants to see me?”
The death knight gestured at the tauren, who was waiting outside the blacksmith’s shop. Mori broke out into a smile as she recognized Tolkar, who was holding a large box.
“Hi Tolkar!” The young blood elf ran up to the shaman and grinned widely. “I haven’t seen you in a while!”
“It has been quite some time, yes,” Tolkar replied in his deep, booming voice, “and I’m afraid I can’t stay for long either. But,” he held out the box to the child, “I heard you were here, and I bought you a present.”
“Oh! For me?” Mori couldn’t believe it; it felt like today was her birthday with the amount of presents she had received. Handing her new books to her undead to carry, she gently placed the box onto the ground and opened the lid. In it was a shimmering lavender and periwinkle staff tipped with an iridescent purple crystal with a glowing bright blue aura.
“It’s beautiful, thank you!” Mori held her new staff, speechless, and felt herself attuning to its power. She held the staff up to Sahtra. “Doesn’t it look really nice?”
“Indeed, it does, little one. Now, what are you going to tell him?”
Mori turned to the tauren and beamed. “Thanks, Tolkar!”
“I was told the staff was made of the same material that the liches at Icecrown used to enhance their abilities,” Tolkar explained, “I hope it helps you grow into a strong necromancer.”
“Thank you, Tolkar,” Sahtra spoke with a genuine smile, “I appreciate your understanding and support of the child’s studies.” He looked down at the young blood elf, who was absorbed in inspecting the intricate details on her new staff. “Many others have cast her aside for this. You have a great spirit, shaman.”
“An entire faction of the Horde is undead,” the tauren replied, “it would be rather small-minded of me to reject her talents.” Sahtra nodded. “And that reminds me,” Tolkar pulled out a folded letter from his belt and opened it, “I am required to meet the Horde emissary shortly. It appears that unrest stirs in Pandaria.” He folded the letter back up and placed it in his pocket. “It has been a pleasure seeing you two again,” he held out his arm to give a farewell handshake to the death knight, “I wish you the best of luck on your adventures. Goodbye, Sahtra. Goodbye, little Mori.”
“Bye, Tolkar! Thanks again!” Mori waved happily as she watched Tolkar turn around and head off.
“I believe it is time to meet Wrathion.” Sahtra looked down at the young necromancer. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Mori. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“Very well, let us go see him.”