Stormwind's Child: Sanctum
She rode through the forests of Elwynn, content to take the roads. The guards shivered in her wake, not recognizing it other than as the morning's chill breeze and not a greedy mage's power. The watchers at the bridge across to Westfall bundled their cloaks tighter around their shoulders, looked at each other as she passed, and silently wished they were as powerful as she, and able to ignore such a fell breeze in the early morning with little more than a robe.
The animals knew better. They shied away from her, a marauding packleader daring to bare his teeth at her as she passed. He ran from her moments later, tail tucked between his legs and whimpering, his breath steaming in frozen air. His pack followed, knowing such cold was unnatural and could not mean anything good. They were smarter than most of the humans.
She travelled off the roads, now no more than simple dirt paths through the hills. When she was a child, they were well-tended, cared for, and strictly maintained like any other road in the kingdom of Stormwind; now the great and mighty 'kingdom' was lucky if half a dozen guards answered the alarms in Elwynn itself. Even the defenders of Sentinel Hill could offer little in the way of time and resources to maintaining the roads.
She neared the ruins, but steered the old chestnut mare away before she got too close. That was not a reminder she wanted to deal with or even get close to.
Eventually, her wanderings took her into the makeshift town of Sentinel Hill itself. The peasants working the lumber mill finished cutting a plank and hauled it off into a pile that never seemed to grow larger - between the weather, the Defias, and the occasional Horde raid, there was always some small building that needed to be repaired. If all was content, the supplies would have travelled to Stormwind City to aid in repairs, construction, or the military's needs. If those in power in the Keep would get off their lazy...
She shrugged away the thought and dismounted, idly tossing the reins over a section of half-built fence. The old mare ducked her head gratefully to the grass at her feet, then nuzzled a peasant who came trotting up with an armful of hay. 'Top of the mornin', ma'am ...' His happy words died in his throat as Reanna's cold stare met him. 'Err ... some hay for the fine horse ya have, my lady, an' the Light's Blessings to you...' He ducked away as quickly as he could.
She closed her eyes, willed her mind to silence, and felt a rhythmic breathing; Lyia was still asleep, as was most of the town. It was painfully early. No matter; she couldn't sleep with all the energy that was burning through her. She opened her eyes and shook herself vigorously before she became lost in the flows of magic and it started snowing, or some other godawful thing. She shivered to herself at what happened earlier when the built-up energy had forced itself out of her. At least she'd been protected in her study, which was sufficiently warded to avoid any notice from outsiders. The reactions were as violent as the warlock had warned her, perhaps worse.
She pulled her hand away from one of the magical currents running through town before she sucked it dry.
She trudged up the hill, nodding to the Protectors at the base of the tower. Gryan Stoutmantle was already awake, standing vigil at the entrance, unshakable as ever. He grunted at Reanna as she passed, and didn't even shiver. For the briefest of moments, she pondered rounding on him and showing him what precisely she'd learned to control since she last left this place as an adventurer, and as quickly stopped herself, realizing the thought didn't entirely come from her own control.
The Quartermaster inside looked happy enough to see her; he welcomed any business he could get, particularly from outsiders who did nothing but bring much-needed money into the town. For that, he would likely put up with any amount of chill she could pour into it.
'Mr Lewis. I have a request to make of you.'
The balding man blinked, and ran his eyes over her armor. Typically she found herself wearing the gear she acquired in Scholomance, but she was still garbed in the Magister's regalia she'd worn earlier. It was, of course, patched up and cleaned - a few quick spells and a trip to the always-busy armor repair shop saw to that - but the quartermaster still raised an eyebrow.
'How can Sentinel Hill aid you, my lady?'
'I'm in need of some quantity of lumber, and stone if you can spare it.'
The man rubbed the top of his head. 'Lumber should be easy enough to come by, but we're still fighting for the mines back from the Defias. I'll see what I can do, though. Are you wanting this for something local, or are you thinking it needs delivered?'
Reanna turned the corners of her mouth upward, a smile without warmth. 'Just gather this as you can. I'll return in a week, with enough gold to cover it. Keep it safe from the bandits until I arrive. I'll take care of the delivery myself.' She handed over a scrap of parchment with some figures on it. 'If it's not enough to complete the task, I may return later. You'll find that I pay quite well.'
Lewis pursed his lips in a silent whistle - she was asking for a lot of supplies. 'You buildin' a tower or summat, ma'am?'
'Yes.'
The animals knew better. They shied away from her, a marauding packleader daring to bare his teeth at her as she passed. He ran from her moments later, tail tucked between his legs and whimpering, his breath steaming in frozen air. His pack followed, knowing such cold was unnatural and could not mean anything good. They were smarter than most of the humans.
She travelled off the roads, now no more than simple dirt paths through the hills. When she was a child, they were well-tended, cared for, and strictly maintained like any other road in the kingdom of Stormwind; now the great and mighty 'kingdom' was lucky if half a dozen guards answered the alarms in Elwynn itself. Even the defenders of Sentinel Hill could offer little in the way of time and resources to maintaining the roads.
She neared the ruins, but steered the old chestnut mare away before she got too close. That was not a reminder she wanted to deal with or even get close to.
Eventually, her wanderings took her into the makeshift town of Sentinel Hill itself. The peasants working the lumber mill finished cutting a plank and hauled it off into a pile that never seemed to grow larger - between the weather, the Defias, and the occasional Horde raid, there was always some small building that needed to be repaired. If all was content, the supplies would have travelled to Stormwind City to aid in repairs, construction, or the military's needs. If those in power in the Keep would get off their lazy...
She shrugged away the thought and dismounted, idly tossing the reins over a section of half-built fence. The old mare ducked her head gratefully to the grass at her feet, then nuzzled a peasant who came trotting up with an armful of hay. 'Top of the mornin', ma'am ...' His happy words died in his throat as Reanna's cold stare met him. 'Err ... some hay for the fine horse ya have, my lady, an' the Light's Blessings to you...' He ducked away as quickly as he could.
She closed her eyes, willed her mind to silence, and felt a rhythmic breathing; Lyia was still asleep, as was most of the town. It was painfully early. No matter; she couldn't sleep with all the energy that was burning through her. She opened her eyes and shook herself vigorously before she became lost in the flows of magic and it started snowing, or some other godawful thing. She shivered to herself at what happened earlier when the built-up energy had forced itself out of her. At least she'd been protected in her study, which was sufficiently warded to avoid any notice from outsiders. The reactions were as violent as the warlock had warned her, perhaps worse.
She pulled her hand away from one of the magical currents running through town before she sucked it dry.
She trudged up the hill, nodding to the Protectors at the base of the tower. Gryan Stoutmantle was already awake, standing vigil at the entrance, unshakable as ever. He grunted at Reanna as she passed, and didn't even shiver. For the briefest of moments, she pondered rounding on him and showing him what precisely she'd learned to control since she last left this place as an adventurer, and as quickly stopped herself, realizing the thought didn't entirely come from her own control.
The Quartermaster inside looked happy enough to see her; he welcomed any business he could get, particularly from outsiders who did nothing but bring much-needed money into the town. For that, he would likely put up with any amount of chill she could pour into it.
'Mr Lewis. I have a request to make of you.'
The balding man blinked, and ran his eyes over her armor. Typically she found herself wearing the gear she acquired in Scholomance, but she was still garbed in the Magister's regalia she'd worn earlier. It was, of course, patched up and cleaned - a few quick spells and a trip to the always-busy armor repair shop saw to that - but the quartermaster still raised an eyebrow.
'How can Sentinel Hill aid you, my lady?'
'I'm in need of some quantity of lumber, and stone if you can spare it.'
The man rubbed the top of his head. 'Lumber should be easy enough to come by, but we're still fighting for the mines back from the Defias. I'll see what I can do, though. Are you wanting this for something local, or are you thinking it needs delivered?'
Reanna turned the corners of her mouth upward, a smile without warmth. 'Just gather this as you can. I'll return in a week, with enough gold to cover it. Keep it safe from the bandits until I arrive. I'll take care of the delivery myself.' She handed over a scrap of parchment with some figures on it. 'If it's not enough to complete the task, I may return later. You'll find that I pay quite well.'
Lewis pursed his lips in a silent whistle - she was asking for a lot of supplies. 'You buildin' a tower or summat, ma'am?'
'Yes.'