A Place To Call Home?
Forgive me for the awful RP, but this is just one of those moments I needed to try.
Kaelyra took an uneasy step off the boat onto the worn wood of the Stormwind docks. She’d made the rough sea journey from Borean Tundra to Stormwind countless times, but there had been something different about it this time. This time, she was returning for good.
The icy north had held many horrors. She’d watched friends fall on the frozen battlefields, only to be raised again as abominations. She’d been betrayed, she’d been wounded, and she had seen unspeakable evil. From the ghostly Vyrkul that appeared out of the fog, to the endless waves of Scourge that spread disease and death across the contintent, Northrend was a frightening place.It was a relief to be free of the cold winds that whipped across the tundra, cutting through even the thickest cloth.
An impatient human paladin jostled past her, his golden hammer swinging with his jaunty stride. You’re doing it again – the daydreaming. You’ve got to start focusing, she admonished.
Kaelyra tossed her bag over her shoulder and trudged down the docks towards the rising staircase. Other travelers hurried around her as they disembarked from the ship. It had been a long journey, rife with storms and rough seas. Everyone was excited to return home, to see their families and familiar places. Except me.
They were returning home, not because the war was finished, but because there was a new one all around them. Azeroth was in dire peril, and they had ignored all the warning signs.
She still remembered the moment that the Shattering had begun. She was asleep in a soft feather bed in A Heroes Welcome Inn in Dalaran. Her dreams, or nightmares rather, were filled with pain and fear, as usual. She woke suddenly to a deep and utter silence. Then a dull rumble, building to a intense crescendo as the earth convulsed beneath her. The elements cried out in terror, and through them she could see flashes of the destruction that was consuming the world. A tidal wave in Tanaris, blasting across the sand. A dark shadow over Stormwind, breathing fire everywhere. The whispering voices coming from deep beneath the earth, chanting.
She’d heard the rumors of the elemental invasions in Stormwind and Ironforge, and had seen the rifts strewn across Northrend. She had been unable to make sense of it; her mind was weary of the fighting. If only I’d tried a little harder… I failed my duty as a shaman. If only I had listened.
But it was too late. The world had shattered, lives had been lost, and it was only the beginning of the horror to come.
She gazed around as she climbed the steps of the harbor. Stormwind bore the marks of Deathwing’s return- the Park was in shambles, with its walls crumbling into the sea. Fires still burned among the the molten rock.
Many had already left Northrend before the Shattering, but she had hesitated. Finally back in Stormwind, her reasons for hesitation came rushing back to her.
The city she’d once called home no longer felt familiar. Even setting her hearthstone here did not make it a home. It wasn’t just the destruction caused by the Shattering – it was the years spent away. A new generation of heroes wandered the streets, full of fresh enthusiasm and vigor. Auction houses had been torn down and rebuilt, shops had moved, and the walls had been opened up to allow access to the lake. The canal was filled with strange blue crabs. Even the trees were taller. It was still Stormwind, but nothing felt the same.
It was an unsettling feeling to realize that you had no place to call home.
She trudged along the canal towards the Dwarven district. Supposedly a new inn had opened there, and she was curious to see if any of the new Dwarven shaman had made their way to Stormwind. It would be a good place to ask around.
The smoke from the forges rose overhead, and the scent of hot iron permeated the air. At least that hasn’t changed. She ducked instinctively as a crane holding beams of wood swung over her. The dwarves always forgot that there were taller races wandering around.
The sound of racous dwarven laughter and glasses clinking grew stronger as she continued to walk. The inn soon stood before her, a cheerfully carved wooden sign with a foaming beer mug on it decorating the entrance.
Kaelyra could still feel the elements churning around her. She would rest here for a few days, but soon she would begin to fight again. We must unite, and strike back at Deathwing and his Twilight Cultists. If we fail, no one will have a home.