A Note to Bennik
Slender dark fingers worked dilligently in the still of the morning. The rasping of a fine line of graphite against the heavy wood of a table thumped into the still of the woods, the ticking marking off someone in deep thought. The rays of light that filtered down through the thick brush forests of Terokkar. The Druidess had missed the calm serenity that these woods brought, a sense of rightness. Navre shifted against the wood of the bench, her other hand drifting aside to run her fingers through the dull fur of another Druid propped up against the seating.
"I should send something -- some word, don't you think?", Navre mused aloud, her fingers ringing around one of the deep gouges that riddled the shoulder of the other. She pushed one deep within the shoulder muscle, past the sinew long gone dry and stiff. Her gaze difted towards the other's lifeless eyes that stared up awkwardly. Bent at a most unnatural angle, the spot-coated Druid, still in form to which have probably been a means to try and escape, had probably been thrown quite a distance from the inital impact of the Mana bomb that had detonated in the thicket.
"I agree. I will send word. "
Navre smiled, withdrawing her hand and flicking away the dried bits of muscle tissue and fur that wafted along with tiny spindles of thin green residue that curled against the mild breeze that picked up in the woodfall. Then, she began to write.
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Later that afternoon...
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*Delivered to Bennik's post box via an Emissary's quick and determined hand, a neatly sewn Kodo-hide pouch. Within, was a letter in Taurehe. That same letter seems to also be accompanied by a translation into Common, along with a bouquet of seven freshly picked Crimson Lotuses.*
"Five remain, yet seven have come to see the truth. The truth not in words but in action. A crispy, clear dedication that comes not from the sleek and pale defenders but of the war-torn conviction and steadfast desire for what is rightfully ours to take: your lives, your livelyhood, your children, and your blood.
Slender, like the crimson lotus' enclosed, they each represent one of your Watchers. Perhaps I should have sent an eighth as well -- you will come to know the truth soon enough, Dwarf. The blood is the power, I believe. We are an infection to your defenses -- have you ever noticed, if you let an infection alone and you wait and you pander your attention elsewhere, the infection does not receed -- it grows.
We have grown, my Horde. In the past, I have feared of whom I was becoming. I feared that I was losing the struggle that stretches across the land. But, I find I can...no longer restrain it. My strength, while faded, is united by the strength of others. What have you done but stagnate.
Without your leader, your force is in disarray, your response is repeatable. I am standing my ground, on your homes and your lands, and I will not give in. I will NOT be denied. I will not simply close my eyes and hide the universal truth that is inside. You know that if I should fall there will be others, a constant stream of others. Can you be prepared to make that sacrafice?
Five remain -- I await to feel your flower's soft petals against my face."
"I should send something -- some word, don't you think?", Navre mused aloud, her fingers ringing around one of the deep gouges that riddled the shoulder of the other. She pushed one deep within the shoulder muscle, past the sinew long gone dry and stiff. Her gaze difted towards the other's lifeless eyes that stared up awkwardly. Bent at a most unnatural angle, the spot-coated Druid, still in form to which have probably been a means to try and escape, had probably been thrown quite a distance from the inital impact of the Mana bomb that had detonated in the thicket.
"I agree. I will send word. "
Navre smiled, withdrawing her hand and flicking away the dried bits of muscle tissue and fur that wafted along with tiny spindles of thin green residue that curled against the mild breeze that picked up in the woodfall. Then, she began to write.
-----------------------------------
Later that afternoon...
----------------------------------
*Delivered to Bennik's post box via an Emissary's quick and determined hand, a neatly sewn Kodo-hide pouch. Within, was a letter in Taurehe. That same letter seems to also be accompanied by a translation into Common, along with a bouquet of seven freshly picked Crimson Lotuses.*
"Five remain, yet seven have come to see the truth. The truth not in words but in action. A crispy, clear dedication that comes not from the sleek and pale defenders but of the war-torn conviction and steadfast desire for what is rightfully ours to take: your lives, your livelyhood, your children, and your blood.
Slender, like the crimson lotus' enclosed, they each represent one of your Watchers. Perhaps I should have sent an eighth as well -- you will come to know the truth soon enough, Dwarf. The blood is the power, I believe. We are an infection to your defenses -- have you ever noticed, if you let an infection alone and you wait and you pander your attention elsewhere, the infection does not receed -- it grows.
We have grown, my Horde. In the past, I have feared of whom I was becoming. I feared that I was losing the struggle that stretches across the land. But, I find I can...no longer restrain it. My strength, while faded, is united by the strength of others. What have you done but stagnate.
Without your leader, your force is in disarray, your response is repeatable. I am standing my ground, on your homes and your lands, and I will not give in. I will NOT be denied. I will not simply close my eyes and hide the universal truth that is inside. You know that if I should fall there will be others, a constant stream of others. Can you be prepared to make that sacrafice?
Five remain -- I await to feel your flower's soft petals against my face."