Magic Happens

Endryel looked down at the parchment in her hand and let out a heavy sigh. Another request to come to Orgrimmar to mediate. If it wasn't Trolls or Orcs it was always something.

"This is what I get for being a diplomat," She murmured into the Stormwind night.

Stormwind, with all its noise and lights. Endryel spurred her horse away from the crowds and toward the quieter Mage's quarter.

She would meet Selarine, a powerful mage and close friend to Endryel. She was the person responsible for Endryel's transmogrification from Draenei to Elf. The spell had been complicated and dangerous. Selarine had also made several glammer (as different from glamour) trinkets for Endryel, best of those was the Elar Carmenith trinket. A true masterpiece in magical transformation.  It had served Endryel very well in her underworld dealings.

But tonight...tonight she came with a greater requirement from Selarine. Endryel would, once again, test the old woman's mettle. Her own life would be in danger as well, but Endryel needed to delve into a horde underground where her identity must be flawless. A trinket would not serve this time.

Endryel dismounted her horse in front of the Gallina Wine seller's shop in the canals. She had not noticed anyone watching her or following her, but that was never a reason to believe that she wasn't being observed. She turned to enter the shop and as she approached the door, she vanished into the darkness. Always the rogue. Her stealth was unsurpassed in getting her around in those tight places. She made her way along the canal and turned into the Mage's Quarter. She was gliding up the spiraling walkway of the Mage's tower a few minutes later and decided that a little surprise would be nice for Selarine. Grinning, Endryel unlocked the door to Selarine's room and slipped in the door. The candles flared and the old women burst out laughing.

"Really child, " the old woman giggled, "did you really think I would leave my room unwarded?"

Endryel grinned, dropped into the comfortable chair beside the old mage and shrugged.

The woman was older than any human Endryel had ever known. Her life had been extended through magic over several normal human lifetimes, and yet, she appeared no older than a human woman of 40, just beyond the bloom of youth. She was small and frail. Her skin pale as milk from being in the depths of the Mage's tower for so many years. Her pretty face was dotted with freckles. Her eyes were the deepest blue with an intensity that only magic could bring to eyes. The small body held tremendous power and knowledge of magics long forgotten by others. Selarine's manner was always fun and relaxed until the time for casting came, then she was a fearsome sight.

Few knew of her more specialized talents in transmogrification. Endryel had been brought to Selarine many years earlier for that very service and, since that time, they had been close friends.

Selarine was pouring two cups of herb tea and the earthy fragrance wafted throughout the room filling Endryel with warmth and relaxing her body.

Selarine turned to Endryel, "So, child, your note said you had an urgent request," she grinned at Endryel, "with you Urgent means trouble...tell me, child?"

Endryel took a deep breath, no sense mincing this one. "Selarine, I need you to transmogrify me again."

Selarine dropped the tea pot. The beautifully decorated ceramic pot tumbled toward the floor spilling the fragrant tea. At the last second Endryel caught the pot and set it gently on the table before the dumbfounded Selarine.

"By the Gods, Endryel!" the little woman slumped into the chair, "Have you any idea what it is you ask?"

Endryel busied herself cleaning up the spill with a rag from the cabinet so as not to have to look at the mage's eyes.

Selarine placed her hand under Endryel's chin and turned her face up.

"What you ask is dangerous to you especially. I know you have strong reasons that we do not need to discuss," The mage's deep blue eyes bore into Endryel. The now elf nodded against Selarine's hand, "Very important, and it must be flawless, no trinkets." Endryel's gaze did not waver this time.

Selarine looked at her for a what seemed an age and then nodded. "Fine, I am ready to proceed." Endryel stood and helped the woman from the chair.

Strong magic rocked the mage's tower that night and, in the wee hours of the morning as everyone slept,  a lone Blood Elf slinked down the docs and onto The Bravery, a ship traveling to the Kalimdor continent. From there she would make her way to Orgrimmar.

Three weeks Later:

Endryel has made contact with Krolen, a leader in one of the Orc underground syndicates. They traded in slaves. These were the people she was to take down from the inside. She had passed all inspections for disguises, of course. And would be a few months proving herself to this lot.

And there she was, 'proving' her loyalty by strong arming a meager Goblin from the slums. He had been skimming profits from something or another and Krolen wanted him taught a lesson. Endryel pummeled the little man, all the while hiding her disgust for this part of the mission. The Goblin finally, thankfully, passed out on the floor. Endryel turned to leave and the crony Krolen had sent to observe laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. Endryel grabbed the Orc's meaty hand and twisted his arm until he bent down in pain.

"Never touch me, scum," she hissed and pushed the large Orc into the wall and strode off out of the stinking hut. She would have to kill the Orc now. Life was simple among these types. You didn't ask for forgiveness and you didn't forgive. You killed what bugged you, simple as that. Endryel would do as was expected of this type. No less.

Later, in Pandaria, Endryel was fighting alongside other members of the syndicate, looking to transplant the brewer's union that had long had a booming business in the newly discovered continent. The battle was turning to the small band's advantage when Endryel felt a stabbing pain in her stomach and she doubled over, narrowly missing an incoming sword thrust and spear from behind. She rolled and vanished. The others, too busy with their own battles, didn't notice her disappearance.

The pain was excruciating. Endryel moved to a secluded location as far away from the battle as possible and used her Hearthstone to return to Orgrimmar. She barely remembered getting to the inn and falling into the bed. She awoke sometime later. The pain was completely gone, but, for some reason, she felt as a boulder were laying on her belly. When she opened her eyes to see that, indeed, this was the case. Her shirt was stretched out and something very large was on her. She couldn't sit, so she rolled to one side and on to her feet. She felt so heavy! Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her belly was HUGE! She was completely distended. But how? What magic was...and the word magic was all she needed to set her in motion. She would go to Selarine. Endryel donned a cloak and her Elar trinket. That at least would hide the very apparent problem she was having.

With time being of the essence, Endryel hired a mage to teleport her to Stormwind. As luck would have it, the port would put her in the Mage's tower directly. Stealth would get her to Selarine's room.

Selarine looked up from her reading and frowned at the bedraggled Endryel standing in her doorway. "Child! what ..." she then stared at Endryel's enormous belly. Endryel moved into the room and fell into the nearby chair and fainted.

Endryel awoke to the sound of the crackling fire and Selarine's humming.

"What happened to me?" Endryel croaked from a parched throat.

Selarine turned beaming, "My dear," she said softly, "You are pregnant!"

Endryel frowned, pondered and shouted "Pregnant?! Are you insane?!" But Selarine had come over and placed her hand over Endryel's bulging shape. That was when she felt the movement inside. Selarine smiled and guided Endryel's own hand to her belly. There is was again! Movement....

Endryel smiled and then only one word came from her lips, "Conetera."

Selarine's only explanation was that the second transformation had awakened a dormant pregnancy. The pregnancy may have become dormant from some of the magics that Endryel had been exposed to; or even some desire to wait for safety. Who knew, Selarine said. It was truly a miracle.

A few days later, Endryel gave birth to a healthy baby Elf girl, who she named Ondrielle.

About Awendan

Enter Conetera the assassin)

A new face in the guild has caught my attention, Conetera. Under the cover of a hunter he has made no effort to hide he is an assassin from our guild mates. His mention of it while talking to the others perked my ears. I was most forward in asking to speak to him privately, but I could not pass up the opportunity to gain training from him. I am honored that he was very receptive to my interest. He shared many things about his own training some of them horrible and frightening. He also helped me see that I am not alone in the pleasure I feel in killing another and that it is an assassin way to relish his work. That there is no shame in wanting to prolong our target's pain four our own enjoyment. This is our work and I am an assassin. We have spent much time together and I have come to trust Conetera with my life. I trust him more than I do Alistor. I know Conetera would never betray me. I hope that he knows the same is true of me.

I have enjoyed several days of training with Conetera. He is kind and very generous and all too serious. Of course our work is a serious thing and the final trial's difficult one. I see greatness in his kills. He is so very skilled. I am honored to be under his tutelage.
The joining of my soul halves is an ongoing process, as Barek explained it. With Grolagar’s soul inside at the time of the ritual the process has slowed almost to a halt as he battles to keep Endryel from Awendan. Though the two halves of soul did have some chance to join, Grolagar has entrenched himself between us. Awendan remains a separate, self-aware entity. Grolagar’s soul battles constantly to break free. His hate and wrath are unbearable at times. It is fortunate that Awendan remains and grows stronger each day. As two entities we have been able to hold him at bay, yet not excise him. But as we join more and more he gains ground too. He is stronger than us, yet he battles in my stronghold and thus I hold the advantage. Let us hope he does not make himself too comfortable.
There was a strange occurrence today. I was cleaning out my travel pack and lost time or became unaware. The same way I used to when Awendan's form took my body. I am aware at all times during those periods now. I can only conclude that Grolagar has found a way to take over me. More disconcerting, however, were the looks on Alistor's and some of the other warden's faces when I regained my awareness. They were disgusted! How horrid this has been and now for my fellows to find me a burden is almost too much to bear! Alistor confronted me, like the child he still sees me as, and accused me of hiding something in my pack. None was more surprised than I to find a locket I do not remember acquiring and that I could not touch. Where did it come from? Did Grolagar get it? And what is he up to?

Trial begins (As (told by Awendan)
Conetera has begun the final trial...in hopes that we, Awendan and I will have the strength to expel Grolagar. There are no expectations of defeating him...merely sending his soul fragment from me. The training is designed to help fragment parts of a person...to be able to withstand enormous pain and hardship without any effect. In my case the fragments are being brought together and the trial is so extreme that we will either emerge whole and stronger or we will be destroyed. Cone and I have decided that it would be better that he and I alone do this trial...I do not wish to burden the others any further. Conetera spoke to Barek and asked for his assistance, but Barek's mistrust of Elves and the trial it self made him refuse. I understand this and feel no resentment toward him. The initial phase of the trial consisted of a mind blend with Cone. In the silence of our mental union a child came to me. His name Krat'zul He called me Awendy his child innocence seemingly so pure. He wore a mask covering half his face. He removed it to reveal his a gaping hole where his cheek should have covered his teeth. What did this to this sweet boy? He told me was my guide in the mental preparation of what I am to endure. He took me to a time in the past in a horrid dark dungeon room where people were shackled and showing signs of severe torture. He himself was tied to a table in the middle of the room. His master and other large men inflicted horrible torture upon his body. I (Awendan) had to struggle to overcome my fear and desperation. Endryel became excited and almost aroused by the scene. I was frightened by her viciousness. Where has this grown in her? Or is it Grolagar manipulating her? To my surprise the men where aware of my presence am not certain how that is possible in a memory. In his agony Kra'Tzul turned to me and begged me to help him and I promised I would, though I do not know how that would even be possible.

Cone and Krat'zul are one in the same. Each a fragment of one soul much like Endryel and me. After the mind blend ceased Cone and I sat looking into each other's eyes. A bond created between us as we had shared a very traumatic moment.

Trial ends (As told by Awendan)

The second and final part of the trial took part today. It was a cool misty morning in the hills near Astranaar. The house where we met was dim and cool as it is open to the outside. I looked on Cone and felt a deep bond between us. I know he will guide me right. I know he will make things well once more. Once again Cone and I sat across from each other and entered a deep meditative state. He then asked one last time if I was sure of this and I could not have been surer of anything. He nodded his agreement and placed his headband over his eyes and his hand over my head covering my eyes. The mental link between us formed and we stood in that fetid dungeon once more. The child Krat'zul was in the room dancing around as if pleased with the scene. The boy seemed oddly happy for such horror. As the room materialized more clearly I saw Alistor on the torture table, beaten and bloody. Nyna, Barek, Arekan and Cone all shackled to the walls. All of them beaten, broken and in pain. It took every shred of strength I have to keep from screaming. This time Krat'zul was the voice of accusation. He told me that those I care for were there because of my failure. My failure to fight Grolagar and to keep him from invading me. My anger rose to new heights, my control wavered, but I stood fast clinging to the hope of success. Then, as he continued to taunt me I felt a surge of hate and anger that overwhelmed me. I realized that he was only the image of the boy lunged for him and took him by the throat. I intended to kill him. Then he dared me to kill him, dared me to follow the path of the shadow. In that instant my mind became clear and at peace. I realized that my love was the only thing that could save us all. My love for Krat’zul, for Alistor my dearest mentor, for Nyna the child of innocence, for Barek the one who teeters with darkness, Arekan the one who wants to heal the world, Conetera the broken man and child. For my self and for Endryel also falling into darkness. I love all of them and in that moment I took the child into my arms and let the light of love heal us. He fought me briefly, but the love was all encompassing. The dungeon and all in it faded as I broke my bonds and Krat’zul and I stood in a meadow by a lake. He pointed to the lake urging me to go and look at my own reflection in the water. As I looked I saw myself and Endryel separate into two entities both Draenai as she was born. Our appearance masked as Night Elves only a surface glamour. And the soul of Grolagar rose from us, not longer bound. He was pulled violently toward the locket that Alistor found in my pack. I believe he is trapped there even now.

As the trial ended the boy Krat’zul began fading and his last words were: Awendan I love you too.

Cone and I awoke from the link to look upon one another. Me as Awendan alone, no longer bound to Endryel.

Assassination

Ratchet…port town run by goblins and a place for the unscrupulous and seedy to skulk about in the shadows. Endryel stepped onto the dock off The Maiden’s Fancy, the ship that brought her from Booty Bay. Her soft leather boots making not a sound on the sturdy boards of the old dock. She made her way up the hill to the inn.

The tavern area of Ratchet’s inn was packed this night. Smoke lingered in thick clouds around the tables and the scent coming from the patrons from all over Azeroth created a wave of odor that could be sliced with a dagger. Endryel sat down at the only empty table and waved e innkeeper Wiley over. She had to raise her voice over the cacophony

“A brew and some information if you would Wiley,” She spoke casually and in a friendly manner.

“Good evenin’ Lady E, a pleasure to have ya in my humble establishmant as always,” The little goblin spoke a bit nervously. “ O’ course I’ll have the best brew for ya…and what information can I get ya, Lady E?” He was drying off a mug with a dishtowel and placed it on the table before Endryel and expertly poured some Dwarven stout into the mug.

“I’m looking for a creature,” Endryel said after taking a gulp of the beer. “Rathorian…a demon. Do you know where he might be? I know he lurks around in the Barrens.”

“Oh! Lady E!” The goblin smiled horribly, “I don know ‘bout anything like that.”

Endryel tilted her head and grinned at the little goblin. “Come on Wiley…you know me…I think I can take care of it don’t you think?” Endryel cocked her head to one side and moved her eyes to indicate the dark figure in the corner. The innkeeper followed her eyes and shot a quick look back at her.

Wiley stepped close to Endryel so he could whisper. “Is that one of them thievers that been hittin’ my liquor at night, Lady E?” Endryel smiled at the goblin and fingered her dagger. He looked down and his face paled to a lighter green. He nodded. “Okay…you take care o’ them...an’ I tell ya what ya wanna know…okay?”

Endryel nodded, drank down the beer and stood to leave. She looked down at the goblin and smiled. “No problem, Wiley, I’ll see you in the morning.” She said and then turned to walk out into the night.

More surreptitiously, a group of four men left the tavern over the next few minutes and followed Endryel’s path. The four gathered and made their way out of town. As the rounded a bend in the road, Endryel’s voice came form the shadows. “Good evening gentlemen.” She said softly but loud enough for them to hear.

The tallest of the men smiled and stopped in the road. “Good evening, Lady Endryel. Well met.”

“Tremallion, thank you for scouting ahead for me.” She replied nodding the greetings of the other three men. ”As usual, Wiley required an exchange. The thieves captured will sit well with him. He really does have the biggest ears of anyone in Kalimdor…I do like having him happy with us.”

“You know we could have gathered the information about Rathorian from someone else in town, I’m sure.” Replied Tremallion, the captain of Endryel’s personal guard.

“Mmm, I’m sure you could have,” she replied, “But this helps us cement our relations in Ratchet even more. I could hardly pass that up.”

Tremallion nodded and smiled. They walked away from town to a camp they had set up earlier. Tremallion and his men updated Endryel on the thieves in Ratchet and they all laid out a plan to capture the thieves later that evening.

With the two thieves in tow, Endryel, gathered the information of the location of the Shadow Council member, Rathorian. He was known to spend his time in a cave high atop Dreadmist Peak. The location was not far from Ratchet and the small group made good time on horseback. The climb up the mountain was somewhat arduous and treacherous in places. They arrived late the next evening and approached the cave entrance in stealth. They quietly took down the Orcs standing guard and slipped into the cave keeping to the shadows. Avery large Fel Guard demon stood before them. It seemed an odd place to see a Fel Guard.

Endryel spoke quietly from the shadows. “Are you the one they call Rathorian?” she asked.

The demon whirled around looking for the location of the voice. “Who wants to know?” he replied in a deep voice.

One of his minions had rushed behind a rock and was peeking out staring into the shadows. “Who is that Rathy?” it spoke in a little voice.

“SHUT UP YOU STUPID!” the demon roared realizing that the minion had given his name.

Endryel signaled to the others and they slid toward the minion. It was over in an instant. Not a sound was made as Endryel stepped through the shadows behind the demon…one second later her daggers had run him through and he lay dead on the floor. Tremallion and the others had killed the minion and two others that were hiding behind rocks.

“For Bundy!” Endryel whispered at the dead demon. And walked out of the cave into the night.

A Day of Doom

An afternoon like any other finds young Eladisa skipping along by a stream. As always, she sings a happy tune and plays with the little bird fluttering around her. She has, once again, opted to play instead of attending her priesthood classes. The day wears on and she dances and sings, stops to eat a picnic lunch of berries and fruit she has picked from the grove. A snapped twig startles her from her reverie. She jumps up to find herself face to face with a large Atlantean lad.

“Dorgan! You idiot! You scared me!” Eladisa punches him in the arm and laughs wildly. The strapping lad grins at the lovely young woman.

“Well…I knew you wouldn’t be in class, as usual, so I came to see if you wanted to go to the dance with me tonight,” Dorgan’s grin spreading into a smile.
Eladisa feigns a scowl and crosses her arms.
“And why would I go with you Dorgan Gorthe?” Eladisa replies attempting haughtiness, a small smile creeping onto her face.

“Uh well, I, uh” Dorgan stumbles confused.

Eladisa bursts into wild laughter and jumps on Dorgan knocking him to the ground.

“Of course I’ll go with you, you big drake!” She jumps back up gathering her things. “Come on, we better go or we’ll be late.”

Eladisa takes off running without looking back. Dorgan trots up alongside her looking over at the face he has seen grow to womanhood. His heart skips a beat. Eladisa looks over at Dorgan and smiles sweetly and her heart skips a beat as well.

As the young couple approaches the keep, piercing screams and the sound of clashing weapons shatter the stillness of the afternoon. The smell of smoke chokes the air. Eladisa drops her bags and her mouth falls open. Just as a sound begins in her throat Dorgan’s hand covers her mouth and he pulls her under a nearby cart. A group of demon Ocs wanders past dragging Malnai, the housekeeper, by the hair. Malnai’s face is bloodied and her body mangled and broken. Dorgan and Eladisa look on in horror.
“Eladisa,” Dorgan whispers in her ear “you must not cast magic, do you understand?”
As Eladisa, accustomed to being outspoken, begins a retort, Dorgan motions her to silence with a severe scowl. Eladisa nods in acquiescence. As stubborn as she is, even Eladisa knows she must obey Dorgan, as an officer of the Protectors, in matters of battle and safety. These Atlanteans are taught from an early age that the Protectors rule any situation of danger. This small clutch of Draenei has survived the burning legion because of this tenet.
“We must go inside through the lower passages,” Dorgan whispers “stay close and above all, Eladisa, DO NOT cast magic or they will find us.” Eladisa’s frightened eyes meet Dorgan’s stern look and his eyes soften. His hand cups her cheek, “I will see you through this Eladisa,” Dorgan whispers softly. Eladisa takes a deep breath, gathering her wits, and snaps a nod.
The two, keeping to the shadows of the early evening, duck into the keep through a hidden lower doorway. The lower passages are thankfully free of enemies, as they were designed to be a means of escape. But why are they not full of the keep folk? Dorgan asks himself. At last they arrive at a doorway that will take them into the main area. Dorgan opens the hidden panel on the door and the two gaze at the horror in the courtyard.
Hundreds of demons clutter the large courtyard. The bodies of many lay strewn all over the stone floor. The members of the Royal house of Wellbringer are lined up tied to stakes near the hidden door. Their naked bodies beaten and bloody. Eladisa stifles a scream and Dorgan put his arm around her shoulders to steady her. A massive demon steps into view. The two can see that he was once Draenei and recognize him at once. It is Grolagar turned demon. They both groan softly. The baritone voice of the demon carries through the courtyard.
“So here we are my dearest cousins, a fine family reunion,” his twisted face grins into, Eladisa’s father, Loette’s.
“You are foul beyond measure traitor!” shouts Loette at the demon
The deep evil laugh makes Eladisa quiver and Dorgan pulls her closer as the two look helplessly on.
“Ah cousin, we shall not mince words this day of my glory. I will be performing the Eman ’do Mar this night and your magic and power shall be mine for the taking!” Grolagar’s face contorts into a semblance of a smile.
Eladisa’s eyes pop wide and she jumps at the mention of the ritual. Dorgan looks at her quizzically. She holds her hand to his ear and whispers the meaning. The Eman ’do Mar is an ancient ritual taught to the Draenei by the Naaru. The purpose is to transfer the magic from one dieing bloodline to another. This ritual is meant to preserve the power and was done willingly and honorably. For Grolagar to do this by force and for personal gain was the worst desecration of the teachings of the Naaru.
Grolagar pulls a fine gold dagger and the Orb of Do Mar, the very one used in the ritual! Eladisa’s eyes well with tears as she stifles a cry. One by one, Grolagar thrusts the dagger after using the orb killing all the Royal Wellbringers. As the last one, Loette, dies screaming from the forced rending of the magic and the pain of the dagger, Grolagar falls to one knee from the power swirling around the orb he holds in his large hand. Holding his arms out expecting the magic to enter him, he casts the final spell.
The massive power swirls madly and shoots across the courtyard obliterating the hidden door and knocking Eladisa and Dorgan on to their backs. The demon horde all follow the magic’s trajectory and upon seeing the intruders, begin to move toward the couple. Fortunately for the two, the sudden movement of so many proved a hindrance to the demons. The first demon to arrive was cut down by Dorgan’s sword as he stood shielding Eladisa behind himself. Fire flowing from his fingertips blasted at the next several demons.
“RUN and don’t’ stop to look back,” He yelled back to the still groggy Eladisa.
“No, I must… “ Eladisa began to dispute forgetting her place, the power of the magic raging in her, alongside the rage at the death of her family.

“NOW!” yelled Dorgan more loudly. Eladisa cast a shield on Dorgan, just as she had been taught and turned to run down the corridor. The sound of demons dieing echoing behind her.

The voice of Grolagar shouting: “GET HER you swine! She is the last of the line, without her I will not have the power!”

---

Eladisa spends months hiding in the hills of Nagrand. She moves often and flees from any hint of demon troops. Slowly, Eladisa makes her way toward the Hellfire Penninsula, toward the Dark Portal (Map of Outland).
Eladisa flees to Azeroth through the Dark Portal and finds herself desperate to gain more training in her priestly ways, she must learn to control the huge power within her self. She also requires protection from the demons that chase her, until she is strong enough to wield the power. At some point, she realizes, she must turn and fight. In her desperation she casts a spell to summon a demon protector.

One late evening in Elwynn Forest on Azeroth, Eladisa sits on a large rock by a flowing brook. Near a small cooking fire, she is intent on a parchment. The remnants of a gortusk supper at her side. She stands and sighs deeply. She raises her hands to the sky and chants for several minutes. Magic flows between her fingers and hands as the swirling engulfs her she whispers:

“Please spirits hear my call!”