Shadows Within

"Selean?"
Arcing a prominent eyebrow, the druidess turned to the voice of one of her peers.
"You have a visitor," the other elf told her, motioning for someone else to come forward. Her silver eyes widened in recognition as the much shorter figure moved, a light smile on his face.
"Andromai, what a pleasant surprise!" she said, shifting her body to face the rogue. He rubbed the neat, trimmed goatee with a chuckle.
"The pleasure is mine as always, friend," he replied, the usual hint of dignity in his voice. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Not at all, not at all," she informed him. "What occasion brings you here? Surely not your father's errands?"
The human chuckled. "Hardly. He's always got other ways of getting his shipments around." Raxis' face hardened a little before he continued. "Actually, I was wondering if you had heard anything about..."

He trailed off at the understanding nod from the kal'dorei. "I have. In fact, we received something only a few hours ago."
From her belt, the druidess removed a leafy pouch, but did not open it.
"Are you sure?" the human asked, holding out his hand.
Selean passed the bag to him. "Beyond a doubt. We are still attempting to find a way to purify them, but as of yet, nothing has worked."
Andromai opened the satchel and peered inside. A vibrant green pulse issued from within, shining from the depths of what once was a shadowgem, whose surface was now warped and pitted.
"I see," the rogue said, cinching the bag shut and handing it to its owner.

There was an odd silence that stretched between them for a while. A wind rushed down from the sky, shaking the boughs of Teldrassil with a serene melody.
"Andromai."
"Yes?"
"You do realize that he may not want to come back?"
The human sighed and looked at the carpet of grass below him. "I'm well aware of that... but I'd be remiss as a friend if I didn't try."
Selean gave him a pitying, worried look. "Some things are beyond salvaging, Andromai. Even if Kalderin is cured, the lingering resentment would undoubtedly keep him away."
"He's done stranger things," the rogue countered. "I think he might do it just to keep people on their toes."
"Don't put too much into foolish hopes," she advised. "It's not healthy for you."

Andromi walked along the fertile ground aimlessly, lost in thought. Of course he'd heard the reports of the botched raid and the descriptions of the human who assailed them. He wasn't the only one who didn't need to investigate to know it was his old friend; several of the other agents, as well as some of the higher-ups in SI:7, and even a handful of the townsfolk, recognized that description as soon as they saw it.
The amount of wordplay and wheel-dealing required to keep Kalderin from being labeled as a full-blown traitor by the government of Stormwind had sent the human's mind spinning. Raxis counted his blessings that he had the testimony of no less than a dozen individuals that his old friend hadn't sold everything he had learned... but if he ever showed his face in Alliance territory again, he would probably be struck dead at first sight.
The noble's son sighed, still trying to figure out what the hell Kalderin had been thinking when he left...

"Kal, what are you doing out here?"
Raxis' dignified voice floated across the trees, causing the younger human's head to turn. The older figure's too-long blond hair tumbled down around his shoulders and face, standing out like a scream against the night sky and dark leather they both wore.
"Just communing with nature. Y'know, getting a feel for the world," the black-haired boy joked. His own voice was light with eternal optimism, the balancing force to his friend's often serious tone.
Andromai gave a dry chuckle. "The usual, then?" he asked.
"Yeah, something like that," came the reply.

Raxis looked up, seeing Kalderin's legs dangling down from a nearby branch, the barest of difference between the black of leather and black of night giving them an odd silhouette to his eyes. The noble's son ran a few paces to gather speed, and fought his feet up the trunk a few feet, grabbing hold of a join and hauling his body the rest of the way up.
The rogue's ascent had little effect on the wildlife, only rousing the birds part-way from their slumber. Raxis crouched on the limb, leaning against the trunk of the old tree, and looked at his training partner, traveling companion, and partner-in-crime with knowing eyes.
"What's up, Kal?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
The younger human only turned his head enough to see Andromi from the corner of his eye and gave a light sigh. Moments of silence passed while the black-haired boy collected his thoughts.
"Do you ever feel," he began, "like you don't really belong here?"
"Not really," Raxis replied. "But you do, don't you?"
"I'm not sure why," Kalderin answered, "and... well, that worries me." He didn't need to see his friend's face fall a few inches; Andromai heard it in his voice.
"I'm sure it's just the crowds, friend," the blond responded. "Let's face it, ever since the orphanage, you've always been-"
"No, I don't think that's it," the blue-eyed boy cut in. "It's like having a bad splinter under your foot, y'know? It's there, and it's not going away, but you don't know how it got there, or why."

The elder's brown eyes creased with worry. "I can't say I've had that, Kal," he admitted, at a loss for words.
"Yeah, I know, but... I just had to say something. You know how I am, buddy," came the younger human's voice, heavy with uncharacteristic gloom.
"Of course I do. You're weird."
Kalderin cast a sideways look at the other, hesitated for a moment, then chuckled.

Andromai's mind reeled back to the present when he bumped into someone.
"Sorry," he said, looking up at the night elf's face. She was obviously a rogue as well, judging by the close fit of her leathers and the mask round her neck. What little of her skin that showed through her leather was a light, almost peach color, and easily mistaken for a human tone.
"Oh, it's okay," she replied in a sweet, high-pitched voice, tugging a bit at the band holding a small, almost pointless ponytail of deep emerald hair. "Are you lost?"
"Only in thought," he replied with a smile.
"Really? Sounds dangerous," she said.
"Well, sometimes it is. But not today," Raxis told her, adjusting the black hat on his head.
She giggled, her eyes scrunching up adorably. "Well, that's good. Bye!"
And with that, the elf skipped off, humming to herself.
Well... that was odd, the human thought.

Teldrassil was a nice place, but there were times when Andromai needed to return to the cold, cobbled streets of home, whether he wished to or not. The boughs of the kel'dorei sanctuary called out like a lost home as he strode along the wooden planks that lead to the flight master, trying to tempt him into staying just a bit longer.
He took in one last lungful of pure forest air before boarding the hippogryph, savoring the relative freedom it offered from his own troubles. As the wind rushed around him, Andromai reined his mind back to the task soon to be at hand.

-------------

Taeweth Softhorn looked around, trying to get her bearings. Something with the spell had gone wrong, that much she could feel in her very skin. But how? Certainly, that troll hadn't botched the spell...
The land here was alien and unfamiliar, and reeked of arcane magic. The druidess wrinkled her snout as the stench assailed her sensitive nostrils, causing her to cough.
This isn't right, she thought to herself. She told me that we would meet at-
A wave of corrupt energy washed over the decaying forest around her. In reflexive fear, the tauren shifted into her lion form and buried herself in a clump of withering vegetation. The sound of hooves striking the ground rolled up from somewhere beneath her as the unknown persons approached.

A pack of horses dashed by, rocking the earth with their collective thunder, but the source of the stench refused to pass. Moments later, two figures neared in clear pursuit. One rode a dull, off-white steed; the other was astride the unmistakable form of a felsteed. Bile rose like a living thing in the tauren's gullet as the pair charged on, intent on their pursuit.
Then, the warlock pulled his mount to a halt, calling out to his partner over the din of cloven feet tearing the ground away. The other halted his horse in a much gentle manner, turning the animal around to face the flaming mockery of its kind.

"Someone's here," the human muttered.
Reinholt looked around, trying to see anything. "You're sure?" he asked.
But the warlock was already dismounting, sweeping his eyes around for even the slightest sign. He drew the sword that hung at his waist, holding it loose in his hand as he turned in slow, patient circles.
The half-elf freed his own weapon, holding the spear behind him, as he too began to move, searching. He could tell his friend wasn't using all of his innate perceptive abilities, but Reinholt surmised that he was saving them for a time when it really mattered-

The warrior's arm shot into a thicket, grabbing something by the scruff and skin, and pulled, wrenching it out into the open. He held it down, pressing the spear to its neck, and looked. A puzzled expression soon crossed his features, and he eased off a little.
"It's just a druid," he stated as he rose, still keeping a firm grasp on his weapon.
"Selean?" the human asked.
"No, a tauren."
The warlock sighed, stuck his sword in the ground, and began to chant. Purple coils of energy rose from his hands into a vortex over his head, and Reinholt saw the druid recoil in fear. The hole grew, then vanished a few seconds later.

"Hmmm, you're in trouble now."
"Aren't I always, Kolire?" he replied without turning, though a light smirk formed on his face.
"Natch," the succubus said, winking as his back. She leaned on his shoulder, much like one would a low wall, and glanced at him. "So, what's your game, Aneon?"
The human inclined his head at the shape-shifted druid in front of them. "Language barrier," he informed the demon.
Kolire straightened up and pouted. "why do I always get the boring jobs?" she whined.
The human smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "Because you're the only one who's good at them, dear. Do I need to say please?"
The succubus gave a mock sigh and walked to the tauren.

"It's okay, they won't hurt you."
Taeweth gave the demon a very skeptical look, or at least the best one she could manage in her form. Seeing this, the demon gave an dramatic sigh and knelt.
"Look, they were chasing after some crazy-ass group of bandits who ran off with a night elf they know, Selean Greenward. You know her?"
The druid shifted back to her natural form, worry creasing her bovine face.
"Yes, I do. I- ah, I was supposed to meet her here. Wh-What's happened?" she stammered, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Woah, okay. First off, calm down, girlie," the demon spoke in a soothing, friendly voice as she stood. "We won't get anywhere with you in a tizzy like this."
She told something to the two Alliance who stood nearby. Surprise flashed on their faces, and they sheathed their weapons instantly. The warlock, though wreathed in the taint of arcanum, looked much younger than the other humans she had seen in her travels.
"They want to know what you were doing here, and I'm sure you've got questions for them, too," the demon told her. "So, whenever you're ready, I'll let them know. Deal?"
Taeweth nodded, a feeling of anxiety coming over her now. For some reason, she had the sneaking suspicion that something was going to go terribly wrong.