Inner Turmoil (Howling)

[Nastrik]

Howling laid there, in a field of lush green, amber gold with a sky of the softest blue he had ever seen. Blinking a few times he sat up quickly. Looking to his surroundings about him to gauge his state.

"Where am I.. This place.."

"Mulgore." He thought to himself, sitting in the thickened yet soft grass he knew so well. He could not remember how he had arrived at this place. Thinking.. Calculating. Finally snorting and rising to a knee he placed one hand upon it. Stopping instantly as a small bird had flown down directly in front of him, chirping happily at his massive frame. Ignoring the bird Howling stood up, feeling a strong breeze hit him from the north, blowing his mane back. It was cold. As the gust subsided his eyes suddenly widened with realization. The Cold wind, his body felt it as being cold. He had not felt the cold since his Death. Feeling a terrible serenity wash over him he scanned the landscape, spotting a small pond not far. Reaching into his bag he found nothing, naught his weapon, armor, or what he was looking for, his steed. Cursing his luck he began to run, tossing his satchel to the ground.

Upon reaching the side of the lake he nearly collapsed into the water. Kneeling at the edge. Looking down into the water he saw himself, breathing heavily as if he needed the air. Even though he would not have needed it unless he was Living. Staring upon his face, eyes no longer hinting of scourge, now colored green.

"I'm.. Alive?"

Slightly confused by the turn of events he reached at the reflection in the water, as the reflection splashed he blinked a few times, as the water calmed a new face greeted him, a female tauren all to familar, his mother.

"Mo..Mother?"

He cried out, as his hand reached into the pool once more, before his finger could touch the water a massive blade came forth, spiking up from the water and finding a home in howlings chest. As the tips of the blade exited his back the cold wind once again blew, striking over his frame, this wind was different it was cold but it chilled him to his soul. Howling grasped the blade of the sword above the hilt, pulling it into his chest and reaching out for the reflection of his mother. Spurting up blood out of his mouth the red liquid hit the water, causing the image of his departed to fade out, coloring the red a deep crimson.

"DAMNIT!"

He was snarling at this point, chest burning in agony with the blade lodged through his ribcage. He fell on his side, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Breathing heavily he grasped the blade of the sword, and pulled it slowly from his own body. It left a cold trail where his innards had once burnt in pain, the cooling sensation crept over his form, until his body went numb to the wound of this sword. He had felt this once before, when he became a Deathknight he thought to himself as he opened his eyes, and looked back into the water. The reflection was the one he knew now. Those deep scourge like eyes...

Howling awoke in a fit that night. The cold sweat that had perspired turned to flakes of ice almost immediately. A dream. That's all it was. On most nights in Silithus stars were not visible, and this night was no exception. He sat up, russled a fire and thought about the dream. He felt no warmth from the blazing fire. His hand flet its way to where he had a quite large scar across his chest, over his heart.

"The same spot."

His massive fingers trailed over it, the scar left by Frostmourne, once when his life was taken and once when his undeath was gifted. Howling considered everyone in his so called "family". Nyx, this place he did not mind being a part of. Aitana, Svalina, Warburn, Tomoyo, Khargh and more importantly Asarelah. He had conflicting thoughts and that is why he had fled to Slithus, to think. The Lich Kings grasp was very weak here, only an old god to whisper to him and Howling did not mind him much.

"Best just to stay away a bit longer."

[Asarelah]

Lah listens to the wind, straining to hear what it's rustling silk flowing past her ear would reveal to her. She sighs deeply, a single tear running down her cheek, leaving a trail of quicksilver in it's slow passing. She deeply mourns the absence of her Champion.

" Where, oh where, has Howling gone ??" she whispers to the wind.

Quickly wiping away the telling tear, she reaches across the desk for her precious spellbook. "Well, we shall just find out, shall we ?? "

Her fingers caress the lovely rose which Howling left for her before he disappeared. Knowing full well that he would have picked the precious blossom himself, leaving it where she would find it, she opens her spellbook to the right enchantment for her purpose.

Carefully following the formula laid out before her, Lah casts Mind Vision onto the bud. The casting struggles to wrap around Howling's true essence - from the passing of his fingertips on the petals. Lah leans hard in to the spell, willing it to work. Finally, a sparkling vision of Howling appears hovering above the bloom.

As if in sacrifice to the wind blowing in off the balcony, taking care to keep the precious gift in tact, she raises the rose gently up, interlacing the glowing vision of her Beloved with the cool night breeze. Making an archaic sign above the rose's glowing vision, her fingers twitch another rapid casting, and she asks her question again, with every expectation of an answer.

"Where is he ?? Go find him Dammit !! SHOW ME !!!"

Lah. listening carefully, watches for the wings of the wind to answer her demand. And respond it does !!

The harsh dry moan of desert whirlwinds rushing past deadly scorpids and crawlers slams into her ear as if a shout. Rocking back on her chair legs, she lifts her nose, sniffing the hot dry air now brushing past her face. Suddenly her nose, eyes, mouth, are full of sand.... She catches a hint of the acrid smell of bug spore, of many Hives.... Regal, Ashi, Zora... and wonders if Howling has breached the great Scarab Wall... if even now his Runeblade swings in battle, painting desert sands green with putrid bug ichor.

Is he attempting to storm the Temple of Ahn' Qiraj by himself ?? "What, oh What, is he doing on that in-hospitable desert all alone ??"

[Aitana]

With a massive thud the old instructor hit the floor. Cheers went up from all those around. The followers of Lady Nyx had finally bested Instructor Razuvious. The Lich King would not be able to train new follwers of his as quickly.

"Too bad Howling is not here to witness this moment," Aitana commented to Asarelah. "Have you been able to make contact with him?"

Asarelah shook her head. "He is in Silithus, but I have no idea why. He doesn't respond to me. I'm worried about him"

"He has been there too long alone. We should mount a search for him."

[Asarelah]

Asarelah was at a loss. Elder Aitana had asked her where Howling had got off to, and she had no reasonable answer…. Saying that she didn’t really know was a harsh wake up call. Did she love him, or did she not. And if she did, why was she not at his side?

After calling forth the Wind and demanding a Mind Vision of Howling’s whereabouts, Lah had just sat idly by and done nothing to seek him out. That he obviously didn’t want to be found was a plain truth, but that was still no reason for her to let what they once had slip silently away in to the night.

“Aitana, I agree. We must mount a search and find him. I do not believe he is hurt, or in danger. But that doesn’t mean all is well. Before he vanished, his moods had become dark, and his silences longer and longer. If he falls deeper into this darkness of mind, he may not be able to find his way back out. I know not why this is so. But find out, we must.”

Elder Aitana pursed her lips, and appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, with a nod of her massive head, she spoke. “Hear me. No One of Ours shall be left to pine alone, what ever they are about. We shall mount a search at once. Your Mind Vision will guide our journey. Call in our forces - we set a path to search Silithus!!”

Aitana’s call to the puzzling mission went out, and many answered, brave Tasera not the first among the many searchers ready to ride. Silmeria could not attend the hunt, but she had heard of Howling’s darkness of mind, and sent six precious Scrying Crystals to Asarelah.

“Use these when you find Howling” her message said. “They will act to clear his mind, and bring his focus back in to the real world. But have a care who’s hand you place them in. Your hand, to be sure, for its impact on Howling goes without saying, and that alone might wake him. But he might also respond favorably to Aitana, and perhaps Tasera, Warburn, Hristoforos, or Catcow. After that, depending on who is able to respond to the call, you will have to judge.”

After arriving at Cenarion Hold, in Silithus, Asarelah went to the Inn mailbox to pick up Silmeria’s Scrying Stones, asking Tasera to guard her back while she sorted them out. Looking up from her sorting, Lah saw Windcaller Proudhorn watching their activity in front of the Hold Inn. The Windcaller nodded at a Hold Infantry man standing at her side. “Their Tribe has a look of solemn purpose about them - see that no Alliance add to their troubles.” With a nod, the soldier increased his vigilance.

Aitana sent a scout party ahead, thinking that Howling might have finally come to rest in the ruins of Ahn’ Qiraj. No sign of Howling was found there, but the entire search party was summoned forth regardless. A quick search of the grounds revealed no sign of the Anubisath Sentinel corpses that Lah had seen piled high over hear head, in her Mind Vision. Further searches were made of Hive’Zora and Hive’Ashi. While there was also no sign of the ichor Lah had seen painting the desert sand green, the acrid smell of the death and decay of many Hive Sisters and Sandstalkers still lingered in the hot dry desert air.

Asarelah shook her head, trying to clear out the frustration that was clouding her mind. “Aitana, where is he??” Lah whispered.

“He is to the Northwest.” Aitana’s answer came. How Aitana knew, Lah did not stop to ask. Spurring her mount forward, Lah smartly turned its head toward the setting desert sun and the rest of the searchers were quick to follow.

Entering The Crystal Vale, Lah spotted a ravaged Twighlight Camp in the distance. Where there was destruction, would be a safe bet on where Howling would be found. Dismounting, she walked carefully in to the camp, and saw him, lying prone, his body wrapped around the ashes of a spent campfire. He made no move at the searcher’s approach.

Distraught at the sight of her Champion lying so, “Circle him; we must use the stones to awaken him from this dark slumber!” Lah cried. Six of the Tribe moved around Howling’s body, and focused their scryers on his recumbent form. The Sleeper did awaken.

“We have come to find you Howling, and bring you back among us. Tis’ not good for you to be alone, for so long.” Aitana spoke.

“I am not lost!!” Howling snarled. Looking about himself, he was surprised at the number of the Tribe who had turned out to find him.

“But you were lost to me!!” Asarelah lamented, holding her crumpled rose before her.

Howling reached forth, wrapping a hand around the precious bloom in Lah’s hand, crumpling it in his massive fist. While his anger might have been at his Tribe, for coming in search of him for no good cause, it was if a bolt had struck through Asarelah’s heart, and she nearly fell there at his feet. She could not speak, but she managed to stay standing - and could only shake her head in sorrow, looking at him in surprise, a tear snaking down her cheek.

There was much consternation in the crowd at Howling’s odd behavior. One said under his breath that it was a thing of sadness to see Asarelah so diminished. Demineria walked around the others and punched Howling in the face, trying to get the big bull to refocus.

Tasera snarled in forthright fury, her arm wrapped firmly around her sister, trying in vain to comfort Lah's obvious distress. “Ju not be messin wif me sista dat way, bruddah!!” Tasera’s challenging gauntlet flew, and she was quick with her bow, as she set her mighty hound in a leap for Howling’s unprotected throat. The battle was fierce, but kin is kin, and it soon came to a stop.

“Enough of this!! Explain yourself!!” Aitana demanded, her firey eyes staring straight at Howling and pinning him down with her hot angry glare.

Howling dusted himself off a bit, but gave no appology for his harsh actions. “I have had enough of the Lich King whispering in my head. I came to the desert in hopes that his pull is some how weaker here. Also, I had a dream… of my mother.... of a sword…. It seems tied to my journey on the Path of the Feats of Strength. And I am determined to seek this dream blade, and find it's meaning. I am here to do just that!!”

Howling looked to the southeast and snarled again. “Focus those Stones !!” He yelled once, then again, at the band of searchers. The six holding the stones were quick to leap at his bellowed command. When the Scrying beams hit him again, his casual camp garb dropped away as if turned to ash and heavy plate armor appeared in it’s place, wrapping instantly around his mighty torso. Then screaming for the Scryers to stop, he briskly strode out of their midst, as if to battle. Stunned, all turned to watched what he might be about, as Howling moved with purpose toward something massive approaching from the south east.

A whirlwind… no… a sandfury… no… It was in fact the corporeal form of Prince Thunderaan, moving toward Howling with clearly one intent. With no word spoken, the entire Tribe reacted instantly, running to War at Howling's side. And the battle was joined.

When the dust finally settled, in his hand Howling held up Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker – a Legendary sword once wielded by Thunderaan himself, Prince of Air.

Lah cared not for all that, she cared only that her Champion rode once again near her. But she was uncertain of what the future might hold. As the weary troupe made its way southward, away from the corpse of the Windseeker, Lah let the tattered rose she had so cherished slip from her hand and fall to the desert floor, a part of her heart falling with it.

[Asarelah]

Asarelah had much to think about…...

It had been over a month, since Howling had won Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker from Prince Thunderaan, and a month before since she had spent any real time with him. Nyxian Tribal matters had kept Lah busy, so at first she didn’t notice his absence too terribly. But as time passed, the lonely evenings stretched longer and longer before her, until all she could do most nights was stare out her garden window and oft times weep for her lost Champion.

He had left her a letter, when he had gone missing - a poem, really - professing his love. But it also contained a puzzle that she did not understand. She had read the letter so many times, it was falling to pieces. Yet every day she dared read it again, trying in vain to keep it in tact, until finally it had disintegrated to nothing, and vanished from the box she kept it in.

When Howling’s letter vanished, her anguish was beyond measure. In her mind, there was nothing left; save for painful reminders of her great love for the unruly beast, and the devastation in her heart that was so full of him and his blunt and demanding ways. She had tried her best to keep her heartbreak to herself, and go on with tending daily matters that came up. But she was so lonely without him….. and she didn’t like that the smallest things caused her to weep.

Unexpectedly, other men took notice of her - and they were Alliance!! It had been so long since any man would dare look at her - least Howling punch them in the throat - that she had forgotten what it felt like to be paid court to. But deep down it still saddened her, and she had admitted, weeping - when ordered before the Nyxian Tribal Council to explore what danger might beset her - that while it was flattering to receive such attentions in the face of her terrible loneliness, it was heartbreaking when Alliance men looked upon her with more favor than her own true love - whom she believed had abandoned her.

And then he had come back…. Howling appeared out of no where, snorting icy cold, and waving his fist at her. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH A NIGHT ELF!!!!” he had bellowed at her in forthright fury. “You bitch!” his shouting continued. “EXPLAIN!!!!”

And she tried to explain - that she thought him gone forever - and he would have none of it. But he did listen carefully to what she was saying, and finally calmed when he saw the tears welling from her eyes, and the way she looked at him. Finally he held her, whispering things that made her heart soar. And she gentled in his arms, with a better understanding of the puzzles which he had left her with before…...

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Howling looking at her, a smug expression on his face, as he softly closed the door to her room, leaving her only to go about his business of war. Drifting in a haze of comfort, and finally at peace - with Howling, with herself - she nodded off as sleep claimed her….

Yes, Asarelah had much to think about…..