Chapter 24: Administration and Archery
Maltacus
Getting sticky.
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Chapter 24: Administration and Archery
It was, Sylvanas supposed, just another day at work.
And she leaned back in her chair, stretched her legs, and just enjoyed it. Because it was also not at all like any previous day at work.
Sylvanas let nothing show, but inside she was smiling broadly. They City Council had a guest today, and a spirited guest it was.
Proudmoore was sitting on Sylvanas' right side, both of them a little bit off from the other five members. Despite her obvious shackles and Sylvanas' even more obvious grip and tugging of her chain, a living archmage was still too out of the ordinary to pass without a visible wave of unease among her councillors who managed to clump together by the opposite side. Apart from Varimathras of course, whose gaze as always gave no clue at all to what he was thinking. If they wanted to win the trust of this assembly they had their work cut out for them.
And Proudmoore rose to the challenge, and Sylvanas would even bet that her mage was unaware of how effectively she did it.
She was not an expert on the topic – city-building and logistics – but Proudmoore was bright. And she was curious. And not even Sylvanas' reserved councillors could remain unaffected by her mage's enthusiasm for eternity.
Sylvanas herself kept a lower profile for the time being. It suited both her mood and her long term goal of having this council able to operate independently without her direct supervision. To that end it was likely beneficial that Proudmoore raised the questions and not Sylvanas, although Sylvanas could tacitly show her approval and encouragement with an unnoticed touch against Proudmoore's hand under the table now and then.
Like every fortified position, the Undercity traded accessibility for defensibility, naturally bottle-necked at the entrances that provided a passage both too narrow and too steep to accommodate the necessary traffic, at least so long as their luck would hold and they could continue the expansion and improvement underground and subsequently ferry building materials down and unusable rubble up. The question was how and what to devote their sparse passageways to.
To tell the truth none of the Forsaken were particularly well versed in converting sewers and caves to underground cities. Sylvanas suddenly wished that the dwarves Runar and Halvdan could have been there. Perhaps not all dwarves were the archetypical stonemason but they had claimed to hail from some sort of mountain at least, and in hindsight she had to concede that their methods in general had been sound and highly practical. Belore knew what they were up to now.
Proudmoore was something of the same, Sylvanas realised. She did not know mining and masonry in detail but she knew how to learn and how to make use of what she did know, and in that way she was a good example to hold up before an equally layman city council.
"So, the primary issue is that the amount of goods needed to be ferried overloads the city's network of transportation, leading to…" Proudmoore started to count on her fingers as she summed it up. "…delays in construction works, traffic getting stuck and inefficient use of storage space since some but not all necessary material for a specific work may be waiting for the remaining parts, correct?"
"I am sure we are all greatly helped by the eloquent listing of our many deficiencies and pleased that at least some of the latest half hour's discussion has not eluded our honoured guest." Varimathras' words were polite but his snide tone left little to interpretation.
Sylvanas' chancellor had managed to avoid addressing Proudmoore directly since the meeting started, and phrased his comments in this manner, as if he personally summed up the sentiments of all of the rest of the council.
"Yes, well, but bear with me." Proudmoore continued undeterred. "Shouldn't our first action be to try to reduce the need for new materials? My master carpenter in Theramore always reminds me about the need to not waste building materials. What about the stone and earth that is excavated and dumped outside the city, can any of that be used on site instead?"
"That stone is just gravel and rubble, it's not fit to build anything with."
"But what if we cut it square and even while digging it out?"
"That would take ages, and besides, where are you going to store the maybe even rocks until you have enough to do something meaningful with them?"
"It's just one option, really, and maybe we won't be able to fully explore it in one meeting…" Proudmoore tried, but Sylvanas discreetly pulled at her chain to rein her in for the moment. Proudmoore had pointed out something worth thinking about and now she needed to keep quiet, lest the other participants would feel slighted by a little too insightful outside voice in their affairs.
"Good thinking. Now let the idea brew for a while." Sylvanas told her out of the corner of her mouth, while keeping her gaze forward and quite impassive.
The meeting went on and eventually Sylvanas settled for the radical, crude but immediately effective solution of dedicating the first half of the day to ingoing transports and the latter to outgoing ones, through the few of the entrances suitable for that kind of use, and directing everyone with lighter or no load to use the rest. It was bound to be impopular at first, but she had yet to hear of a large-scale logistics or transport policy that wasn't a veritable bed of nails in any case. There were a good deal of questions and issues that would have to be worked out later.
It was always later. And later. This was why Sylvanas was badly suited for civic government. She had no patience for things that were – seemingly – always solved later and by something that she did not control herself.
They broke for lunch, in Proudmoore's case, and to think things over which Forsaken retained the same need for as living beings. Perhaps even more, Sylvanas sometimes wondered, since they did not sleep regularly. As the still discussing members filed out through the door they offered their slightly reserved goodbyes to Proudmoore as well as Sylvanas. It was always something. Varimathras was last, and his parting comment made her bristle.
"How fortunate that the City Council has at least been able to provide some amusement for visiting children. My Queen."
Without waiting for a reply, her chancellor stormed off and left a heavily sighing mage in his wake.
Proudmoore remained in her seat, munching on the lunch Lyana had snuck in with a little earlier.
"He doesn't like me being here at all, does he?" Proudmoore tried her best to sound ironic about it.
"I am positive he does not like me being here either, for that matter. We must not let our understandable anguish over that fact drag us down, but bravely stride onward." Sylvanas said solemnly, and with a perfectly even face.
Almost unwillingly, her mage started to smile a little.
"I will keep his comment in mind, and maybe ask Anya to procure a set of colourful balls for the next meeting where I assign my chancellor to practice juggling for the amusement of all – with a public performance scheduled for the Hallows Eve."
Now Proudmoore was coughing and held up her hand to signal that she couldn't risk laughing too much while eating.
"We are a divided people brought together by terrible circumstance and somewhat mutual goals of survival and revenge against the Scourge, but not too much more. I am, despite various efforts to the contrary, essentially our military commander rather than queen." Sylvanas mused. "Varimathras has a knack for making use of, and in some regard bringing together, this disparate crowd. I would hazard a guess that he does not take kindly to someone else intruding on what has been his particular sphere of influence."
"So not sorry, actually."
Sylvanas flashed her a smile. A little defiance and cheekiness were promising signs.
When Proudmoore had eaten she had also had time to think up a myriad of questions and ideas that Sylvanas should be informed about promptly.
"Why do all materials need to be stored underground? You have this huge city above, wouldn't it make sense to store and sort things there first and then bring down what you are sure is needed for a specific building project?"
"If we could count on replenishing our stocks in the worst case and preferably holding the city against attacks, yes, but we have been on the defensive from the start and that has left it's mark on all of us. We very much dislike leaving anything exposed for invaders to ruin." Sylvanas explained.
"Maybe a middle way? There must be some things that are less vital than others for you to have below. And somehow I have trouble seeing ghouls voluntarily assaulting a batch of stone blocks."
"You should see the abominations in action then…"
Sylvanas had led Proudmoore further from the council chambers and into the depths of the Undercity. She noted with deep satisfaction that there weren't any uncouth Forsaken bullies plaguing the streets this time. She still held Proudmoore in a firm grip, even though it could be argued that she should start cultivating a public picture of the mage as her civilised advisor rather than strictly guarded spellcaster. Keeping up this theatre remained, Sylvanas had to admit, the more entertaining option.
"Where are we going now, Dark Lady?" Proudmoore asked.
"I have decided to cater to your previously expressed wishes and invite you to my rooms, Lady Proudmoore. Or room, as it is. It is just around the corner in fact."
As always, the door was guarded – this time by the regular deathguards – and they automatically saluted Sylvanas as she unlocked the door. Sylvanas sighed inwardly and showed Proudmoore inside her sparse quarters.
Proudmoore took in the lonely chair and desk, the hard cot on the hard floor, the mostly empty bookcase with some documents, a small stack of papers and some spare quills and ink well ordered on one of the shelves.
"Do you…do you stay here all on your own, Dark Lady?"
"There is barely room for anything more." Sylvanas said somewhat dryly.
"Doesn't it get lonely?"
Lonely? Was a Banshee Queen "lonely"?
Had it been lonely to rack her mind day after day over how to make a single nation of Azeroth so much as hear them out?
Had it been lonely to stare at Cyndia's line in the roll and never be able to force herself to strike it out?
"It's just that…it just occurred to me that…I have all your rangers now." Proudmoore was searching for the right words it seemed. "Your own squadron. And maybe that you miss their company."
Too kind for her own damn good, yet again.
"That is…very thoughtful of you, Lady Proudmoore. And I am forced to admit that I do find myself missing their company at times."
Anya and the rest were fortunately waiting outside, otherwise Anya would likely that that statement as a cue to order the squadron to abduct their ruler form her office and drag her with them to Proudmoore's dungeon.
"You know you are always welcome to come and visit whenever you need to, Dark Lady? I'm sure everyone would want that." Proudmoore looked at the lonely chair thoughtfully. "Maybe I could help you with something?"
"That, as a matter of fact, I think you can. Take a look at this, and give me your assessment." Sylvanas said and handed over the long report from the dwarves that she had taken out from a drawer.
Proudmoore sat down and read it eagerly. She was quickly caught up and Sylvanas took the opportunity to go out and tell he rangers to take an hour off. She and Proudmoore would probably be here for some time.
She could tell when her mage reached the report about the dwarves' continued travels when she exclaimed 'Rhonin?!' and smiled warmly. Sylvanas allowed her some time to get to the parts dealing with Khaz Modan before she broached her questions.
"What do you think of the bit at the end, the plan described?"
Proudmoore read out loud. The short log-like style of phrasing suited her well.
"Conventional diplomatic approach deemed futile until able to counteract aforementioned anti-undead prejudices. Attempting to ingratiate ourselves with Khaz Modan to obtain favourable positions of negotiation. Time estimate and method of approach yet to be determined. Will keep you informed as circumstances allow. Signed Runar and Halvdan, Loch Modan the 17:th." Her mage looked up. "But this is good news, isn't it?"
"Do you believe it…authentic?"
Proudmoore peered at her in slight confusion, but then looked at Sylvanas knowingly.
"Of course it is authentic, how would an impostor know about their mission in the first place?"
Sylvanas shrugged, not having a good answer.
"You are so used to terrible disappointment that you don't dare to believe that something like this can be genuine." Proudmoore said gently. It was not even a question and Sylvanas did not even bother trying to refute it. She shrugged again, uncomfortably.
"It's quite alright. I understand." Proudmoore had moved close enough that her warmth was noticeable. "You haven't been given a great deal of reasons to trust others."
She looked so terribly understanding and also like she knew everything that went through Sylvanas' mind. It was some time since Proudmoore had done that thing of hers, which was bloody unsettling.
"So you would recommend that we treat this message as authentic and sincere until further notice?" Sylvanas muttered, reaching for something to say to move them onward from her mage's scrutiny of her.
"Most definitely so. If they were disinterested in helping you then sending this elaborate package would be the least logical course of action."
"Unless it is the beginning of some sort of larger trap."
"The great scarf plot? I will have to give these nefarious dwarves a point for originality in that case." Proudmoore commented with a hint of amusement. Then she seemed to think of something. "What about Alina, though? This gift held a special meaning for her, didn't it?"
"She used to keep the dwarves company when they were conducting research, and on one occasion she Wailed and they barely got out of the room in time to escape injury." Sylvanas paused, suddenly thoughtful. Proudmoore had a point here. "But they returned, that is one of them did, to reassure her and after that episode i decided to disclose more information than previously to them. Alina continued to keep them company in her spare time and her squadron escorted them through the Scourge territories south towards Dalaran. Amora seems to be of the opinion that Alina and the dwarf spy were growing rather close during the journey."
It was almost silly how Proudmoore started to grin.
"And then they went through Tides know what troubles to send her and the rest of you those scarves? Then I'm with Amora in this – they care for her!"
"Maybe so. Can I trouble you for advice on one other matter? Far more grim, I am afraid."
Proudmoore nodded.
"It is not something substantial as of yet but in the worst case I would like to use your advice as an outside and neutral party. When we were sailing to Theramore Areiel informed me of certain rumours in the Undercity about Forsaken betraying their brothers and sisters to the Scarlet Crusade in exchange for their own safety or perhaps that of their close ones. The rumours by themselves are damaging enough and the very idea repulsive. I instructed Areiel to look into matters upon our return. Her time for investigation is limited and she is forced to approach the issue very delicately lest it should lead to more rumours and all-encompassing suspicion. We Forsaken are, as you have seen, not always the best of mates." Sylvanas added dryly.
Proudmoore had listened with wide eyes, but when she opened her mouth it was to comment on a – in Sylvanas' firm opinion – completely irrelevant point.
"You said 'mates', Dark Lady!" her mage grinned.
"Yes? I dearly hope your grasp of Common is sufficient to make sense of that not too complicated word."
That had no effect on Proudmoore's grin whatsoever.
"Aye, I am just approving of the fact that you don't always talk like a complete landlubber, Dark Admiral Windrunner! We may yet make a Kul Tiran of you some day."
Sylvanas shot her a stern glare.
"As I was saying before this un-required interruption, Areiel's investigation has been forced to proceed slowly but the sack of Hearthglen brought into our hands certain documents from the Scarlets that we are not finished researching. And they seem to support the idea of Forsaken being taken as prisoners closely after our liberation."
"No…" The mirth was gone from Proudmoore's face, which Sylvanas could well understand.
"That is where we stand as of now. So, what do you think about it off the top of your head?"
Proudmoore licked her lips. Sylvanas berated herself for being distracted by it. The human woman's skin got dry at times, there was nothing strange with that.
"Negotiating in any kind of way with the undead strikes me as rather unorthodox for them, for obvious reasons…" she rolled her eyes "…but it doesn't rule it out. It's more like something a mercenary gang or some kind of bounty hunter would do I suppose, or maybe there are just less pious parts of the order that used it as an easy way to hunt you?"
Sylvanas nodded, she agreed with the logic.
"Regardless, the method would probably not have worked too long since rumours slipped out, as you describe, and more of your people gathered together and found their way to the Undercity. But I honestly can't say for sure, maybe this is all just speculation."
"Thank you. Speculation is currently the best we can do but hopefully more investigation will yield results. Do you have any other advice?"
"Maybe you should talk to Westley? He ought to be able to tell you something of how the Scarlets work."
"Bringing a former Scarlet member to the city to ask about Forsaken traitors, that ought to work wonders for the public opinion."
Proudmoore snorted.
"You could always make it a field trip to the new outpost. Then you could check on Cyndia's squadron too."
It was actually a quite pleasant prospect. Sylvanas turned it over in her head. If they could only get more reliable information about the Scourge's positions first. But she would probably be forced to send Areiel instead. There were always som many things calling for the Banshee Queens attention.
"Dark Lady, what did you think about the meeting today?" Proudmoore interrupted her thoughts.
"Decent, I suppose. I have seen a lot worse. To tell the truth I was rather distracted today."
Proudmoore nodded.
"I can really understand if you found it hard to focus on roads and rocks and such with something like this hanging over you. What a terrible thing to have to think about!"
"I will not deny that it is an...unpleasant picture to dwell on. But I must admit that for the most part my attention was occupied by another issue."
"Oh? What issue?"
Sylvanas held off answering just to enjoy the palpable curiosity that radiated from her mage.
"The issue of how absolutely delightful I think your round human ears are when they redden like they do, my little mouse…" Sylvanas whispered.
***
Jaina watched the ground roll from one side to the other and back again. Or wait, was it Jaina who was dangling from one side to the other? Had she turned into a pendulum? No, pendulums did not have feet or tails or…
Tails?!
Jaina had a tail. And something was carrying her by it. She curled her very agile body to look up…right at the face of the quite huge grey cat with red eyes that held her tail in it's mouth!
"Squeak!"
This had to be a dream, didn't it? Unless someone had invented a particularly drastic polymorphing spell of course. Maybe Rhonin had had a very boring day lately. And Jaina had to figure out a way to get out of this dream promptly!
The lonely mewling coming from somewhere ahead distracted Jaina even from the acute need to figure out an escape. Four mewling kittens, to be precise. They sounded outright pitiful but as much as Jaina normally found cats rather cuddly – and with an exemplary culinary taste for fish - she wasn't so fond of them that she wanted to end up as their dinner.
"Double-squeak!"
Mum Cat had dropped her right in the middle of her litter and stretched out in a half-circle behind Jaina to effectively block her escape route. A black kitten with white paws was looking at her. It stretched out it's nose and sniffed, then crawled closer…and tickled Jaina with it's whiskers when it pushed lightly against Jaina's side with it's cheek.
The next thing Jaina felt was something huge and moist and hairy, like a giant brush against her back that…hey! It was of course preferable to being eaten but she tried to shoot and indignant glare at Mum Cat, but Mum Cat had the gall to smirk at Jaina. Who was now blushing. Which was seriously unfair that she should do considering the circumstances. In fact, all of her was hideously warm…and the kittens were shivering from cold…
"Well, just this once then." Jaina thought and stretched out her arm, and somehow she had turned into herself or a truly monstrous mouse, because all kittens fit under it when Jaina pulled them close.
If it could warm her cold kittens Jaina guessed it was alright if she blushed a few times.
Jaina blinked and owlishly peered into the darkness. Where was she? Oh, right, warm glow from her brazier…red eyes that watched her…a soft voice… Jaina unknowingly smiled a little, and drifted back to sleep.
The Banshee Queen's Royal Quarters were finally restored. Great curtains of dark purple framed the expensive windows and her naturally queen-sized bed. The Banshee Queen herself looked sternly at Jaina.
"So, little mage, as you see we have finally tidied up after your latest little arcane prank of teleporting my quarters into the library and my ranger's lodge into the dungeons."
"But zat was so much more convenient, My Queen." Jaina smiled mischievously at her. "Then you had all ze novels at hand to read in bed."
"With the exception of course of all the romantic chivalry drivel that is currently corrupting my dark rangers. Last I looked they were picking flowers and reciting poems to the deathguard all day long, and it is your doing."
The Banshee Queen tugged at the long silvery leash fastened on Jaina's magically warded collar – very expensive with a pair of beautiful blue gems that the queen had said matched her eyes – and pulled her closer.
"I have been forced to entertain myself with "Wardens and Wizardry – 1000 years of mage-keeping" by Maiev Shadowsong. She raises some…interesting points." the queen husked close to Jaina's ear.
"Is zat zo?" Jaina breathed, rather shakily.
"Indeed. Something she unfortunately does not delve into is what to do about mages that can not keep their annoying accentuating to themselves. Five squadrons are corrupted beyond salvation and the Eastern Lordaeron House of Knight's has issued a formal protest."
"Tsk, tsk…" Jaina smirked at her queen.
"So I think I'll have to take matters into my own hands. I might give you a head start, little mage…" The Banshee Queen drawled and stretched her legs from her position seated on the bed's edge. She reached out to unhook the leash from Jaina's collar.
Jaina skipped through the room to the door, but instead of bolting out she closed it and turned the key. She leapt up onto the bed and crawled on all fours up to The Banshee Queen, who had turned to look down on Jaina's eagerly upturned face with fiery eyes.
"Is that how it's going to be, then?" the queen whispered as she casually reattached the leash to Jaina's collar. Then, with a hard yank, she pulled Jaina forward and down over her lap.
***
Anya watched the first light of the day trickle through the window and wondered if she should wake Lady Proudmoore yet. Lady Proudmoore sometimes complained that she would prefer to hibernate like a bear but Anya didn't really take that seriously, because the mage either proceeded to wolf down her breakfast or curl into a ball under her blankets and watch Anya and the rest for a while, and when she did that she always looked content and peaceful.
It wasn't that she looked scared or agitated, like when she had nightmares at times. But she was moving around quite a bit, and mumbling or moaning about something with her leg hugging the clumped together blankets.
Please don't be having a nightmare, Lady Proudmoore.
In response to her thought Lady Proudmoore let out a gasp. Now that Anya looked – not that she was staring or anything – the mage seemed a bit flushed. But on the other hand she would get cold if Anya left her with her leg out in the air like that too long. That settled it. Anya knelt and brushed with her fingertips across Lady Proudmoore's forehead.
"Lady Proudmoore…" Anya hummed softly. "It's morning and it's soon going to be time for breakfast."
The mage twitched under her and squirmed while making some sort of inarticulate sound.
"Lady Proudmoore?"
Two shining blue eyes opened wide.
"Anya!" she sounded startled. "What are you doing here…"
"What do you mean, Lady Proudmoore, I'm guarding you of course."
The mage blinked and looked around. She appeared to be calming down but then she suddenly looked agitated again, and redder than a strawberry.
"I locked the door... Tides, forget that! I didn't! It was just a dream!"
Anya wondered if it had been one of the bad dreams after all, the way the mage looked at her and around them with almost horrified eyes.
"Did you…dream that you hadn't locked the door after you?" Anya scrounged up her face in consternation.
"No, I, er… I had locked the door. To the Dark Lady's room. I dreamt that I was there and…visited! On a visit!"
"Like yesterday?"
"Yes…no! I mean…in the dream she had a different room, amongst other things…"
That sounded more like it, Anya thought. The current Royal Quarters were a travesty.
"That sounds nice. She lives in quite a hovel as it is, doesn't she? I would really like to make something better for her so she could actually get some rest in her own home and not just work through her spare time because she can't think of anything better to do. A real bed to start with. And at least some curtains or something."
"Dark purple! That is…I'm sure dark purple would suit her. For the bed covers. And the curtains."
Anya turned the thought over in her mind. Maybe Lady Proudmoore was right. She went to make breakfast, only slightly distracted by the thought of Sylvanas resting properly on a wide dark purple bed. It would clash horribly with the Dark Lady's armour. Which would be an excellent argument for removing that armour from time to time like sensible people.
***
It was another day, and Jaina and the rangers had an afternoon without anything scheduled. They were strolling by themselves around the surface level of the city and Jaina greatly enjoyed being able to do something leisurely like that. At least not everything outside her dungeon had to be calculated to alleviate public fears of her.
The rangers clearly appreciated the relative peace and quiet too but Jaina feared that she was boring them. She wanted to let them have some time off, or at least decide what they should all be doing for the rest of the day, but it turned out to be easier said than done. Dark rangers were highly skilled, but not in taking time for themselves.
"Well, what did you all use to do when you had time off? Before you were assigned to archmage guarding I mean." Jaina asked with growing exasperation.
"I don't think we had that much time off." Clea shrugged. "Kitala and I mostly explored the woods, until the Scourge started sniffing around too closely. Lyana found her spider and Anya was building something." Clea looked questioningly at Anya at that.
"It didn't work out." Anya answered. Jaina got the impression that it was something she had no particular wish to talk about.
"But there must be something you wish to catch up with at least, right? Don't you do, like, drills and training and such like other soldiers?"
"Hush!" Kitala hissed at Jaina, and sounded admonishing but the way her eyes sparkled made it plain there was nothing to worry about. "Don't let Areiel hear that and get ideas. And for the record, we work very hard to avoid drills and training and such like other soldiers if they have any brains."
Clea looked at her ranging partner with such dry amusement that Jaina highly doubted the veracity of Kitala's statement.
"You are right, Lady Proudmoore, we have a lot of maintenance and training to do and it used to take up most of our spare time before we were assigned as your guards." Anya explained. "Taking care of our gear is actually easier now thanks to the room we have next to yours where we can put our things, but training is harder to make time for. We usually schedule some time for that when two of us go out to gather food or other things for you."
"Meaning our noble leader does that, even though she is unparalleled when it comes to overlooking her own contributions." Kitala added.
"Quite true." Lyana agreed.
Jaina looked with interest at Anya, who almost squirmed on the spot. Jaina understood the feeling of not thinking you deserved such praise all too well. But in this particular case she felt only inclined to add to the dark ranger's embarrassment.
"I for one would never want to be guarded by any other ranger lieutenant, living or dead. So I vote that Anya decides what we do next but make it quick, because we seriously can not stand here talking about what to do for the rest of the day."
The rangers snickered at that and Anya gave it some thought.
"If it would be fine for you, Lady Proudmoore, we always have a good amount of archery to catch up with and we actually have a range in the city – the city above ground. But are you sure it wouldn't bore you?"
"Nonsense, all hands to the archery range it is." Jaina ushered Anya along.
The range was in the southern part of the city, or technically outside it, just outside the former city wall that was especially ruined in this place. Four ordinary targets made of bales of hay and various poles and other ludicrously narrow objects were placed at intervals at different distances from the line.
Jaina found an uncomfortable piece of rubble to sit on while Anya started the day's practice.
"Five at fifty steps, five at seventy." she ordered. Jaina looked over the range. There were some poles far away and some even further away that looked far too narrow to act as targets. Maybe Anya had meant something else…
"Swish!"
Anya had not meant something else.
"Swish! Swish! Swish!"
Four quartets of arrows competed for space across four small sections of wood. Jaina stood up and wandered closer and closer to the rangers just to watch how they did it. It looked so fluid, so easy and natural. And every dark ranger stood tall as a tree and looked frighteningly competent.
"Five at twenty steps, with our backs turned." Anya ordered.
Jaina frowned at first. Were they going to shoot backwards? But the exercise consisted of each ranger beginning with bows lowered and facing the other side. When Anya whistled each of them turned on the spot, nocked an arrow, and shot at one of the bales as quickly as they could. When they had finished their five shots Jaina applauded.
"Is this what it looks like when rangers are behind on their archery exercises?"
Clea smiled at her and Kitala grinned.
"We have slowed down a little bit, maybe…" Anya thought out loud.
"Don't listen to her, she's too critical. It's some affliction that strikes squad leaders." Kitala protested. "Lyana could probably diagnose her."
"I don't think I've seen archers deliberately turning their back on their targets before. Why are you doing that?" Jaina knew she shouldn't interrupt their practice but she was too curious to keep quiet.
"We are meant to stay in the woods where it is easy to be surprised or ambushed, even for us. If that happens every ranger must be able to shoot fast and accurately at close range." Anya explained.
"Twenty steps? That's your idea of 'close'?"
"When an Amani hunting party charges at you twenty steps is starting to feel very close."
"Or a pack of ghouls. They may be weaker and stupider but they are very fast, and never stop." Lyana added.
"They would be really stupid to come after you." Jaina hesitated. She really shouldn't take up their time now that the rangers finally had gotten some of their own. But they were her friends. They probably wouldn't mind. "Could…mmm…could I try?"
Every ranger looked up at her.
"I mean just a little, I wouldn't want to disrupt your training. I can wait until you're done, if that's better…" Jaina begun to reserve herself, but then Anya smiled so widely that she forgot the rest of her reservations.
"Rangers!" Anya called out proudly. "Line up and show Lady Proudmoore how it is done. Now I want to see perfect form from everyone!" she added sternly.
She started to describe to Jaina what was important to think about and how to take aim with Clea, who was nearest, as the example. Clea, who happened to be a strikingly athletic example too. Jaina tried to remind herself that Lyana and Anya and Kitala could do it too, who were more commonly built for rangers, and to not be too envious. Neither was very easy.
"So, Ranger Recruit Proudmoore, take position." Anya looked so happy and that was all that mattered for the moment, Jaina decided as she accepted the dark ranger's heavy bow. "Try drawing it a few times first."
"Yikes!" Jaina exclaimed when she tried.
"Good, you can draw it at least. Most elves spend years building up their strength with lighter bows for practice before they start using these. Now, stand as we do with your arm out like that, take up the arrow…"
Jaina did not get further until her long chain got caught around the lower end of the bow. She tried to let it hang on the other side and managed that after some fumbling, but when Jaina reached down to pick up the arrow the chain hung down to get snagged around it. Jaina sighed, and laughed in resignation over the silliness of it all. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time she managed to pick up the arrow but when she was going to nock it she dropped the loops of chain and it caught around the bow again.
"Anya, we can't have this." Lyana complained. "We have to get her stupid chains out of the way, this is bloody unworthy."
"No, you don't need to…"
"Quiet in the ranks, Ranger Proudmoore." Anya ordered, with an almost triumphant smile that Jaina had to return. Apparently Anya had decided to show as little understanding for Jaina denying herself as Sylvanas for Jaina diminishing herself. "Everyone to the barracks, on me, forward march!"
The ranger barracks were surprisingly enough above ground and turned out to be a reasonably whole ruin of some large building, perhaps some form of guild hall or office. The rangers explained that shortage of space in the Undercity made it a priority to move as much activity as possible to the surface and in an emergency it would be quick work for the rangers to move their vital supplies down below. Since they, again, did not have very much apart from their armour and bows. They measured their wealth in arrows and counted on spending each one in defence of their city.
The smaller office rooms that had lined the sides of the large hall in the middle were used for storage and filled that role rather well. It took Lyana no time to dig up a handful of strings and ribbons of cloth, which she used to tie Jaina's chain close to her arms and chest so that she could stretch her arms wide but without it hanging down when she did not.
"Feel good?" Lyana asked expectantly.
"I think so. It looks like it could work."
"Great! Now let's play dress-up!"
"Wh-what?"
"If you're going to be a ranger you will need to look like one, Lady Proudmoore. Now hold out your hands." Lyana grinned and used a spare string as measuring tape around Jaina's shoulders and chest while the rest looked on with matching expressions.
Lyana was gone like the wind and back even quicker with her hands full of dark-lacquered armour parts. Jaina wore two thick shirts against the colder autumn weather, which had sufficed so far thanks to the warming bracelets, and now had one of them over her fettered fetters. On top of that Lyana and the rest dressed Jaina up in a dark rangers full attire. Jaina found herself trapped inside tight, if limited, chest armour, shoulder guards and long vambraces on top of her bracelets. Little would get through to her forearms at least.
"Find her some better fitting pants if you can too." Anya commented with a critical look on Jaina's too large pair. Lyana was back with two tighter ones of black leather.
"I can't find a whole set of leg armour of your size, Lady Proudmoore." Lyana explained. "But maybe that's just as well because it takes a bit of time to get used to everything and some of us prefer to go without them anyway. Now let's see how these look on you."
Jaina felt her ears and cheeks turn red hot despite the cool weather but there was nothing to be done about it, she reckoned. If it amused the rangers she could very well play along, she would do infinitely more than that for them. At least they held back on teasing her like that time when she had been swimming. Until she had gotten her new pants on, that is.
Kitala whistled lewdly.
"She's wearing those or I'm deserting."
"Yes, I really think these fit best." Lyana tilted her head. "Would you like to try the other pair, just in case?"
"Eh, no thanks, I think these will do." Jaina quickly assured her. Undressing in front of a squadron of curious elves once was quite enough.
"I like the shirt." Clea hummed appreciatively. "It's cute on you."
"She could use a bodice to keep it in place though, the shirt's a bit flappy. Or perhaps some kind of leather cuirass to add protection…" Lyana mused. She dusted off her hands. "Well, all in all I think we have a ravishing new ranger, wouldn't you agree, lieutenant?"
Anya had been silent but not taken her eyes off Jaina.
"Do you like it?" Anya asked quietly.
Jaina looked down at herself. The wide shirt made her attire resemble a romantic swashbuckler in a Kul Tiran adventure novel, reminding a bit of Haley Bones' clothing, but there was no mistaking that Jaina was wearing the uniform of a dark ranger.
Jaina's guardians.
Jaina's saviours.
Jaina's friends.
She cleared her throat but couldn't find her voice, but looked Anya in the eyes and nodded.
Anya nodded back, and then turned on the spot and sprinted to the storeroom. She was back with something dark in her hands, that she unfolded. Anya's eyes shone brightly when she gently draped the ranger cloak over Jaina's shoulders and fastened it's ornate metal clasp.
"Let's march out, Ranger Proudmoore. Form up with your squadmates."
Jaina's squadron.
Jaina's wonderfully kind, beautiful lieutenant.
***
Sylvanas had been buried in work (Areiel would definitely use that term) for three days after the guard's return but she felt more at ease than in a long time. Dividing spoils and finally being able to offer some relief for her bare-scraped craftsmen and industries was a comparably pleasant task. And with the deathguard back in the Undercity there was much less risk of the various Forsaken malcontents harming Proudmoore and also far less danger from potential Scourge raids. They were slowly but surely expanding their patrols and territory outside the Undercity again.
Sylvanas had finished another meeting with her City Council which was starting to take on a working form. She would give them free reign with handling most of the mercantile goods from Hearthglen. Hopefully, it would both put the organisational skills of that council to the test and give it a bit of a boost in popularity if one of it's first actions would be to bring material aid to those that sorely needed it. Sylvanas had decided to take a detour around the city to clear her head. It also never hurt to check up on things personally as a commander.
She climbed and jumped among the ruins of the south side of the keep. It was afternoon, and would have been regarded as a beautiful day before when they had reason to care about such things. At least it was healthy weather for her mage.
Sylvanas spied the surroundings, perched on a still standing part of the roof. She looked out over her ruined city. Her miniscule withering kingdom.
Her wretched, poor Forsaken seen walking here and there in plain sight, for once given a short taste of safety.
Her dark rangers at the archery range, she noted fondly and with pride. And…?
Well, well…
Sylvanas smiled broadly and looked closer.
Anya was instructing Proudmoore – in ranger armour, no less - and the mage was dutifully doing her best to follow what Anya showed her, but it was not going well. Anya had simply not had the time to acquire that kind of experience training new rangers as most other lieutenants did, and her quiet and shy demeanour hadn't led to much in the way of that spontaneous training of new and green rangers that could forge a good deal of bonds between the older and newer ones. She was showing Proudmoore how she stood and how she nocked, drew and loosed the arrow, and Proudmoore by all accounts did her best to follow, but maybe a more hands-on approach was needed?
Sylvanas jumped casually off the roof and shifted enough into her banshee form to dampen the fall, a very useful little trick. She strode purposefully towards their range, then stopped. She could use a little exercise herself.
Sylvanas snuck closer on quiet feet hidden behind the closest buildings. It was a good thirty steps of open ground towards the edge of the range, the area being previously a market square or mustering ground. Sylvanas carefully climbed to the top of the closest wall. She braced herself, and jumped as far forward as she could, landing somewhat more easily than someone lacking a banshee's abilities. And also landing quick and close enough to take her squadron by surprise, Sylvanas noted and forced down her grin.
"Lieutenant Eversong, would you be so kind as to report on the progress of our newest recruit?" Sylvanas commanded and kept her expression impassive as the five of them startled and scrambled to stand at attention when they heard Sylvanas' unmistakeably strict tone. Although, she couldn't be completely sure that Anya had been surprised. It was a rare occasion even for Sylvanas to get a drop on Anya and she wouldn't put it past her lieutenant to let herself be surprised for Sylvanas' amusement.
"Dark Lady, Ranger Proudmoore is attentive and quick to grasp the principles of handling the bow effectively, but I have so far failed to demonstrate with sufficient clarity how it is put into practise."
Sylvanas hummed. "Ranger Proudmoore, assume the correct stance as Lieutenant Eversong has instructed you."
Proudmoore did that, which is to say that she raised the bow and probably tried her best to hold it properly.
"Alright, er…I'm finished, Dark Lady."
Sylvanas shook her head.
"You are standing like a drunk magistrix, Proudmoore."
The indignant look on her mage's face was too precious. She was actually pouting a little.
"It can't be that bad. A mildly tipsy magistrix at most."
Sylvanas sighed.
"Straighten your back but don't tense up like a statue. No holding your breath, you living creatures sort of need that, remember?" she instructed as she guided Proudmoore with her hands to stand properly.
"Relax." Sylvanas reminded her. Belore, her mage was really working herself up over nothing. Her pulse had quickened and she was turning redder and redder. "Elbow up a little, good… And eyes forward." Sylvanas mumbled as she continued to adjust and arrange Proudmoore. She had to gently turn her mage's chin back into position a couple of times when Proudmoore wanted to glance at her rather than the target she should keep her focus on.
"Hold your bow steady, not stiffly. Your movements must be strong but smooth, most of all when you loose your arrow." Sylvanas made some last adjustments to the mage who now stood with her bow drawn and ready.
"Loose."
The arrow flew to hit the target, but well outside any of the rings.
"Be a little gentler with your bow, you twitched as you released the bowstring." Sylvanas directed. It was a common mistake before an archer had gotten fully used to her bow and despite Sylvanas' insistence on the opposite Proudmoore had tensed up a little from keeping the heavy ranger bow drawn.
Her mage nodded.
"Now resume your stance, and no slacking off."
Sylvanas had kept speaking in her most calm and even instructor's tone but she was secretly finding all of it increasingly enjoyable. How long had it been since she had last gotten to train a new ranger of any kind? And Proudmoore's expression when she focused on doing everything the way Sylvanas had told her was just so endearing. It was not the same hard, taut concentration she had displayed when channelling her current spell at sea for hour after hour, there was something so much softer and livelier about it.
The next arrow hit inside the third of the four rings.
The rangers cheered and clapped and Proudmoore looked like she didn't completely believe she had managed that.
"Next one." Sylvanas ordered.
This time Proudmoore made everything too fast for her level of skill yet still hit inside the third ring, but further out.
"Again." Sylvanas whispered. "Breathe in. Breathe out." It was curious how her mage immediately relaxed when hearing Sylvanas' changed tone but still managed to keep her focus up. "Gently now. Smoothly release…"
It was the best shot so far, Sylvanas could see it before the arrow landed. It hit the target just inside the second ring.
Proudmoore blinked herself out of her trance-like state, seemingly incredulous.
"Did…did I do that?" Her eyes were wide and shiny.
Sylvanas smiled inwardly. It was just like when Anya had scored her first good hit all those years ago. She leant in closer to her mage's little mouse ear to smoothly whisper her approval.
"Good girl…"
It was, Sylvanas supposed, just another day at work.
And she leaned back in her chair, stretched her legs, and just enjoyed it. Because it was also not at all like any previous day at work.
Sylvanas let nothing show, but inside she was smiling broadly. They City Council had a guest today, and a spirited guest it was.
Proudmoore was sitting on Sylvanas' right side, both of them a little bit off from the other five members. Despite her obvious shackles and Sylvanas' even more obvious grip and tugging of her chain, a living archmage was still too out of the ordinary to pass without a visible wave of unease among her councillors who managed to clump together by the opposite side. Apart from Varimathras of course, whose gaze as always gave no clue at all to what he was thinking. If they wanted to win the trust of this assembly they had their work cut out for them.
And Proudmoore rose to the challenge, and Sylvanas would even bet that her mage was unaware of how effectively she did it.
She was not an expert on the topic – city-building and logistics – but Proudmoore was bright. And she was curious. And not even Sylvanas' reserved councillors could remain unaffected by her mage's enthusiasm for eternity.
Sylvanas herself kept a lower profile for the time being. It suited both her mood and her long term goal of having this council able to operate independently without her direct supervision. To that end it was likely beneficial that Proudmoore raised the questions and not Sylvanas, although Sylvanas could tacitly show her approval and encouragement with an unnoticed touch against Proudmoore's hand under the table now and then.
Like every fortified position, the Undercity traded accessibility for defensibility, naturally bottle-necked at the entrances that provided a passage both too narrow and too steep to accommodate the necessary traffic, at least so long as their luck would hold and they could continue the expansion and improvement underground and subsequently ferry building materials down and unusable rubble up. The question was how and what to devote their sparse passageways to.
To tell the truth none of the Forsaken were particularly well versed in converting sewers and caves to underground cities. Sylvanas suddenly wished that the dwarves Runar and Halvdan could have been there. Perhaps not all dwarves were the archetypical stonemason but they had claimed to hail from some sort of mountain at least, and in hindsight she had to concede that their methods in general had been sound and highly practical. Belore knew what they were up to now.
Proudmoore was something of the same, Sylvanas realised. She did not know mining and masonry in detail but she knew how to learn and how to make use of what she did know, and in that way she was a good example to hold up before an equally layman city council.
"So, the primary issue is that the amount of goods needed to be ferried overloads the city's network of transportation, leading to…" Proudmoore started to count on her fingers as she summed it up. "…delays in construction works, traffic getting stuck and inefficient use of storage space since some but not all necessary material for a specific work may be waiting for the remaining parts, correct?"
"I am sure we are all greatly helped by the eloquent listing of our many deficiencies and pleased that at least some of the latest half hour's discussion has not eluded our honoured guest." Varimathras' words were polite but his snide tone left little to interpretation.
Sylvanas' chancellor had managed to avoid addressing Proudmoore directly since the meeting started, and phrased his comments in this manner, as if he personally summed up the sentiments of all of the rest of the council.
"Yes, well, but bear with me." Proudmoore continued undeterred. "Shouldn't our first action be to try to reduce the need for new materials? My master carpenter in Theramore always reminds me about the need to not waste building materials. What about the stone and earth that is excavated and dumped outside the city, can any of that be used on site instead?"
"That stone is just gravel and rubble, it's not fit to build anything with."
"But what if we cut it square and even while digging it out?"
"That would take ages, and besides, where are you going to store the maybe even rocks until you have enough to do something meaningful with them?"
"It's just one option, really, and maybe we won't be able to fully explore it in one meeting…" Proudmoore tried, but Sylvanas discreetly pulled at her chain to rein her in for the moment. Proudmoore had pointed out something worth thinking about and now she needed to keep quiet, lest the other participants would feel slighted by a little too insightful outside voice in their affairs.
"Good thinking. Now let the idea brew for a while." Sylvanas told her out of the corner of her mouth, while keeping her gaze forward and quite impassive.
The meeting went on and eventually Sylvanas settled for the radical, crude but immediately effective solution of dedicating the first half of the day to ingoing transports and the latter to outgoing ones, through the few of the entrances suitable for that kind of use, and directing everyone with lighter or no load to use the rest. It was bound to be impopular at first, but she had yet to hear of a large-scale logistics or transport policy that wasn't a veritable bed of nails in any case. There were a good deal of questions and issues that would have to be worked out later.
It was always later. And later. This was why Sylvanas was badly suited for civic government. She had no patience for things that were – seemingly – always solved later and by something that she did not control herself.
They broke for lunch, in Proudmoore's case, and to think things over which Forsaken retained the same need for as living beings. Perhaps even more, Sylvanas sometimes wondered, since they did not sleep regularly. As the still discussing members filed out through the door they offered their slightly reserved goodbyes to Proudmoore as well as Sylvanas. It was always something. Varimathras was last, and his parting comment made her bristle.
"How fortunate that the City Council has at least been able to provide some amusement for visiting children. My Queen."
Without waiting for a reply, her chancellor stormed off and left a heavily sighing mage in his wake.
Proudmoore remained in her seat, munching on the lunch Lyana had snuck in with a little earlier.
"He doesn't like me being here at all, does he?" Proudmoore tried her best to sound ironic about it.
"I am positive he does not like me being here either, for that matter. We must not let our understandable anguish over that fact drag us down, but bravely stride onward." Sylvanas said solemnly, and with a perfectly even face.
Almost unwillingly, her mage started to smile a little.
"I will keep his comment in mind, and maybe ask Anya to procure a set of colourful balls for the next meeting where I assign my chancellor to practice juggling for the amusement of all – with a public performance scheduled for the Hallows Eve."
Now Proudmoore was coughing and held up her hand to signal that she couldn't risk laughing too much while eating.
"We are a divided people brought together by terrible circumstance and somewhat mutual goals of survival and revenge against the Scourge, but not too much more. I am, despite various efforts to the contrary, essentially our military commander rather than queen." Sylvanas mused. "Varimathras has a knack for making use of, and in some regard bringing together, this disparate crowd. I would hazard a guess that he does not take kindly to someone else intruding on what has been his particular sphere of influence."
"So not sorry, actually."
Sylvanas flashed her a smile. A little defiance and cheekiness were promising signs.
When Proudmoore had eaten she had also had time to think up a myriad of questions and ideas that Sylvanas should be informed about promptly.
"Why do all materials need to be stored underground? You have this huge city above, wouldn't it make sense to store and sort things there first and then bring down what you are sure is needed for a specific building project?"
"If we could count on replenishing our stocks in the worst case and preferably holding the city against attacks, yes, but we have been on the defensive from the start and that has left it's mark on all of us. We very much dislike leaving anything exposed for invaders to ruin." Sylvanas explained.
"Maybe a middle way? There must be some things that are less vital than others for you to have below. And somehow I have trouble seeing ghouls voluntarily assaulting a batch of stone blocks."
"You should see the abominations in action then…"
Sylvanas had led Proudmoore further from the council chambers and into the depths of the Undercity. She noted with deep satisfaction that there weren't any uncouth Forsaken bullies plaguing the streets this time. She still held Proudmoore in a firm grip, even though it could be argued that she should start cultivating a public picture of the mage as her civilised advisor rather than strictly guarded spellcaster. Keeping up this theatre remained, Sylvanas had to admit, the more entertaining option.
"Where are we going now, Dark Lady?" Proudmoore asked.
"I have decided to cater to your previously expressed wishes and invite you to my rooms, Lady Proudmoore. Or room, as it is. It is just around the corner in fact."
As always, the door was guarded – this time by the regular deathguards – and they automatically saluted Sylvanas as she unlocked the door. Sylvanas sighed inwardly and showed Proudmoore inside her sparse quarters.
Proudmoore took in the lonely chair and desk, the hard cot on the hard floor, the mostly empty bookcase with some documents, a small stack of papers and some spare quills and ink well ordered on one of the shelves.
"Do you…do you stay here all on your own, Dark Lady?"
"There is barely room for anything more." Sylvanas said somewhat dryly.
"Doesn't it get lonely?"
Lonely? Was a Banshee Queen "lonely"?
Had it been lonely to rack her mind day after day over how to make a single nation of Azeroth so much as hear them out?
Had it been lonely to stare at Cyndia's line in the roll and never be able to force herself to strike it out?
"It's just that…it just occurred to me that…I have all your rangers now." Proudmoore was searching for the right words it seemed. "Your own squadron. And maybe that you miss their company."
Too kind for her own damn good, yet again.
"That is…very thoughtful of you, Lady Proudmoore. And I am forced to admit that I do find myself missing their company at times."
Anya and the rest were fortunately waiting outside, otherwise Anya would likely that that statement as a cue to order the squadron to abduct their ruler form her office and drag her with them to Proudmoore's dungeon.
"You know you are always welcome to come and visit whenever you need to, Dark Lady? I'm sure everyone would want that." Proudmoore looked at the lonely chair thoughtfully. "Maybe I could help you with something?"
"That, as a matter of fact, I think you can. Take a look at this, and give me your assessment." Sylvanas said and handed over the long report from the dwarves that she had taken out from a drawer.
Proudmoore sat down and read it eagerly. She was quickly caught up and Sylvanas took the opportunity to go out and tell he rangers to take an hour off. She and Proudmoore would probably be here for some time.
She could tell when her mage reached the report about the dwarves' continued travels when she exclaimed 'Rhonin?!' and smiled warmly. Sylvanas allowed her some time to get to the parts dealing with Khaz Modan before she broached her questions.
"What do you think of the bit at the end, the plan described?"
Proudmoore read out loud. The short log-like style of phrasing suited her well.
"Conventional diplomatic approach deemed futile until able to counteract aforementioned anti-undead prejudices. Attempting to ingratiate ourselves with Khaz Modan to obtain favourable positions of negotiation. Time estimate and method of approach yet to be determined. Will keep you informed as circumstances allow. Signed Runar and Halvdan, Loch Modan the 17:th." Her mage looked up. "But this is good news, isn't it?"
"Do you believe it…authentic?"
Proudmoore peered at her in slight confusion, but then looked at Sylvanas knowingly.
"Of course it is authentic, how would an impostor know about their mission in the first place?"
Sylvanas shrugged, not having a good answer.
"You are so used to terrible disappointment that you don't dare to believe that something like this can be genuine." Proudmoore said gently. It was not even a question and Sylvanas did not even bother trying to refute it. She shrugged again, uncomfortably.
"It's quite alright. I understand." Proudmoore had moved close enough that her warmth was noticeable. "You haven't been given a great deal of reasons to trust others."
She looked so terribly understanding and also like she knew everything that went through Sylvanas' mind. It was some time since Proudmoore had done that thing of hers, which was bloody unsettling.
"So you would recommend that we treat this message as authentic and sincere until further notice?" Sylvanas muttered, reaching for something to say to move them onward from her mage's scrutiny of her.
"Most definitely so. If they were disinterested in helping you then sending this elaborate package would be the least logical course of action."
"Unless it is the beginning of some sort of larger trap."
"The great scarf plot? I will have to give these nefarious dwarves a point for originality in that case." Proudmoore commented with a hint of amusement. Then she seemed to think of something. "What about Alina, though? This gift held a special meaning for her, didn't it?"
"She used to keep the dwarves company when they were conducting research, and on one occasion she Wailed and they barely got out of the room in time to escape injury." Sylvanas paused, suddenly thoughtful. Proudmoore had a point here. "But they returned, that is one of them did, to reassure her and after that episode i decided to disclose more information than previously to them. Alina continued to keep them company in her spare time and her squadron escorted them through the Scourge territories south towards Dalaran. Amora seems to be of the opinion that Alina and the dwarf spy were growing rather close during the journey."
It was almost silly how Proudmoore started to grin.
"And then they went through Tides know what troubles to send her and the rest of you those scarves? Then I'm with Amora in this – they care for her!"
"Maybe so. Can I trouble you for advice on one other matter? Far more grim, I am afraid."
Proudmoore nodded.
"It is not something substantial as of yet but in the worst case I would like to use your advice as an outside and neutral party. When we were sailing to Theramore Areiel informed me of certain rumours in the Undercity about Forsaken betraying their brothers and sisters to the Scarlet Crusade in exchange for their own safety or perhaps that of their close ones. The rumours by themselves are damaging enough and the very idea repulsive. I instructed Areiel to look into matters upon our return. Her time for investigation is limited and she is forced to approach the issue very delicately lest it should lead to more rumours and all-encompassing suspicion. We Forsaken are, as you have seen, not always the best of mates." Sylvanas added dryly.
Proudmoore had listened with wide eyes, but when she opened her mouth it was to comment on a – in Sylvanas' firm opinion – completely irrelevant point.
"You said 'mates', Dark Lady!" her mage grinned.
"Yes? I dearly hope your grasp of Common is sufficient to make sense of that not too complicated word."
That had no effect on Proudmoore's grin whatsoever.
"Aye, I am just approving of the fact that you don't always talk like a complete landlubber, Dark Admiral Windrunner! We may yet make a Kul Tiran of you some day."
Sylvanas shot her a stern glare.
"As I was saying before this un-required interruption, Areiel's investigation has been forced to proceed slowly but the sack of Hearthglen brought into our hands certain documents from the Scarlets that we are not finished researching. And they seem to support the idea of Forsaken being taken as prisoners closely after our liberation."
"No…" The mirth was gone from Proudmoore's face, which Sylvanas could well understand.
"That is where we stand as of now. So, what do you think about it off the top of your head?"
Proudmoore licked her lips. Sylvanas berated herself for being distracted by it. The human woman's skin got dry at times, there was nothing strange with that.
"Negotiating in any kind of way with the undead strikes me as rather unorthodox for them, for obvious reasons…" she rolled her eyes "…but it doesn't rule it out. It's more like something a mercenary gang or some kind of bounty hunter would do I suppose, or maybe there are just less pious parts of the order that used it as an easy way to hunt you?"
Sylvanas nodded, she agreed with the logic.
"Regardless, the method would probably not have worked too long since rumours slipped out, as you describe, and more of your people gathered together and found their way to the Undercity. But I honestly can't say for sure, maybe this is all just speculation."
"Thank you. Speculation is currently the best we can do but hopefully more investigation will yield results. Do you have any other advice?"
"Maybe you should talk to Westley? He ought to be able to tell you something of how the Scarlets work."
"Bringing a former Scarlet member to the city to ask about Forsaken traitors, that ought to work wonders for the public opinion."
Proudmoore snorted.
"You could always make it a field trip to the new outpost. Then you could check on Cyndia's squadron too."
It was actually a quite pleasant prospect. Sylvanas turned it over in her head. If they could only get more reliable information about the Scourge's positions first. But she would probably be forced to send Areiel instead. There were always som many things calling for the Banshee Queens attention.
"Dark Lady, what did you think about the meeting today?" Proudmoore interrupted her thoughts.
"Decent, I suppose. I have seen a lot worse. To tell the truth I was rather distracted today."
Proudmoore nodded.
"I can really understand if you found it hard to focus on roads and rocks and such with something like this hanging over you. What a terrible thing to have to think about!"
"I will not deny that it is an...unpleasant picture to dwell on. But I must admit that for the most part my attention was occupied by another issue."
"Oh? What issue?"
Sylvanas held off answering just to enjoy the palpable curiosity that radiated from her mage.
"The issue of how absolutely delightful I think your round human ears are when they redden like they do, my little mouse…" Sylvanas whispered.
***
Jaina watched the ground roll from one side to the other and back again. Or wait, was it Jaina who was dangling from one side to the other? Had she turned into a pendulum? No, pendulums did not have feet or tails or…
Tails?!
Jaina had a tail. And something was carrying her by it. She curled her very agile body to look up…right at the face of the quite huge grey cat with red eyes that held her tail in it's mouth!
"Squeak!"
This had to be a dream, didn't it? Unless someone had invented a particularly drastic polymorphing spell of course. Maybe Rhonin had had a very boring day lately. And Jaina had to figure out a way to get out of this dream promptly!
The lonely mewling coming from somewhere ahead distracted Jaina even from the acute need to figure out an escape. Four mewling kittens, to be precise. They sounded outright pitiful but as much as Jaina normally found cats rather cuddly – and with an exemplary culinary taste for fish - she wasn't so fond of them that she wanted to end up as their dinner.
"Double-squeak!"
Mum Cat had dropped her right in the middle of her litter and stretched out in a half-circle behind Jaina to effectively block her escape route. A black kitten with white paws was looking at her. It stretched out it's nose and sniffed, then crawled closer…and tickled Jaina with it's whiskers when it pushed lightly against Jaina's side with it's cheek.
The next thing Jaina felt was something huge and moist and hairy, like a giant brush against her back that…hey! It was of course preferable to being eaten but she tried to shoot and indignant glare at Mum Cat, but Mum Cat had the gall to smirk at Jaina. Who was now blushing. Which was seriously unfair that she should do considering the circumstances. In fact, all of her was hideously warm…and the kittens were shivering from cold…
"Well, just this once then." Jaina thought and stretched out her arm, and somehow she had turned into herself or a truly monstrous mouse, because all kittens fit under it when Jaina pulled them close.
If it could warm her cold kittens Jaina guessed it was alright if she blushed a few times.
Jaina blinked and owlishly peered into the darkness. Where was she? Oh, right, warm glow from her brazier…red eyes that watched her…a soft voice… Jaina unknowingly smiled a little, and drifted back to sleep.
The Banshee Queen's Royal Quarters were finally restored. Great curtains of dark purple framed the expensive windows and her naturally queen-sized bed. The Banshee Queen herself looked sternly at Jaina.
"So, little mage, as you see we have finally tidied up after your latest little arcane prank of teleporting my quarters into the library and my ranger's lodge into the dungeons."
"But zat was so much more convenient, My Queen." Jaina smiled mischievously at her. "Then you had all ze novels at hand to read in bed."
"With the exception of course of all the romantic chivalry drivel that is currently corrupting my dark rangers. Last I looked they were picking flowers and reciting poems to the deathguard all day long, and it is your doing."
The Banshee Queen tugged at the long silvery leash fastened on Jaina's magically warded collar – very expensive with a pair of beautiful blue gems that the queen had said matched her eyes – and pulled her closer.
"I have been forced to entertain myself with "Wardens and Wizardry – 1000 years of mage-keeping" by Maiev Shadowsong. She raises some…interesting points." the queen husked close to Jaina's ear.
"Is zat zo?" Jaina breathed, rather shakily.
"Indeed. Something she unfortunately does not delve into is what to do about mages that can not keep their annoying accentuating to themselves. Five squadrons are corrupted beyond salvation and the Eastern Lordaeron House of Knight's has issued a formal protest."
"Tsk, tsk…" Jaina smirked at her queen.
"So I think I'll have to take matters into my own hands. I might give you a head start, little mage…" The Banshee Queen drawled and stretched her legs from her position seated on the bed's edge. She reached out to unhook the leash from Jaina's collar.
Jaina skipped through the room to the door, but instead of bolting out she closed it and turned the key. She leapt up onto the bed and crawled on all fours up to The Banshee Queen, who had turned to look down on Jaina's eagerly upturned face with fiery eyes.
"Is that how it's going to be, then?" the queen whispered as she casually reattached the leash to Jaina's collar. Then, with a hard yank, she pulled Jaina forward and down over her lap.
***
Anya watched the first light of the day trickle through the window and wondered if she should wake Lady Proudmoore yet. Lady Proudmoore sometimes complained that she would prefer to hibernate like a bear but Anya didn't really take that seriously, because the mage either proceeded to wolf down her breakfast or curl into a ball under her blankets and watch Anya and the rest for a while, and when she did that she always looked content and peaceful.
It wasn't that she looked scared or agitated, like when she had nightmares at times. But she was moving around quite a bit, and mumbling or moaning about something with her leg hugging the clumped together blankets.
Please don't be having a nightmare, Lady Proudmoore.
In response to her thought Lady Proudmoore let out a gasp. Now that Anya looked – not that she was staring or anything – the mage seemed a bit flushed. But on the other hand she would get cold if Anya left her with her leg out in the air like that too long. That settled it. Anya knelt and brushed with her fingertips across Lady Proudmoore's forehead.
"Lady Proudmoore…" Anya hummed softly. "It's morning and it's soon going to be time for breakfast."
The mage twitched under her and squirmed while making some sort of inarticulate sound.
"Lady Proudmoore?"
Two shining blue eyes opened wide.
"Anya!" she sounded startled. "What are you doing here…"
"What do you mean, Lady Proudmoore, I'm guarding you of course."
The mage blinked and looked around. She appeared to be calming down but then she suddenly looked agitated again, and redder than a strawberry.
"I locked the door... Tides, forget that! I didn't! It was just a dream!"
Anya wondered if it had been one of the bad dreams after all, the way the mage looked at her and around them with almost horrified eyes.
"Did you…dream that you hadn't locked the door after you?" Anya scrounged up her face in consternation.
"No, I, er… I had locked the door. To the Dark Lady's room. I dreamt that I was there and…visited! On a visit!"
"Like yesterday?"
"Yes…no! I mean…in the dream she had a different room, amongst other things…"
That sounded more like it, Anya thought. The current Royal Quarters were a travesty.
"That sounds nice. She lives in quite a hovel as it is, doesn't she? I would really like to make something better for her so she could actually get some rest in her own home and not just work through her spare time because she can't think of anything better to do. A real bed to start with. And at least some curtains or something."
"Dark purple! That is…I'm sure dark purple would suit her. For the bed covers. And the curtains."
Anya turned the thought over in her mind. Maybe Lady Proudmoore was right. She went to make breakfast, only slightly distracted by the thought of Sylvanas resting properly on a wide dark purple bed. It would clash horribly with the Dark Lady's armour. Which would be an excellent argument for removing that armour from time to time like sensible people.
***
It was another day, and Jaina and the rangers had an afternoon without anything scheduled. They were strolling by themselves around the surface level of the city and Jaina greatly enjoyed being able to do something leisurely like that. At least not everything outside her dungeon had to be calculated to alleviate public fears of her.
The rangers clearly appreciated the relative peace and quiet too but Jaina feared that she was boring them. She wanted to let them have some time off, or at least decide what they should all be doing for the rest of the day, but it turned out to be easier said than done. Dark rangers were highly skilled, but not in taking time for themselves.
"Well, what did you all use to do when you had time off? Before you were assigned to archmage guarding I mean." Jaina asked with growing exasperation.
"I don't think we had that much time off." Clea shrugged. "Kitala and I mostly explored the woods, until the Scourge started sniffing around too closely. Lyana found her spider and Anya was building something." Clea looked questioningly at Anya at that.
"It didn't work out." Anya answered. Jaina got the impression that it was something she had no particular wish to talk about.
"But there must be something you wish to catch up with at least, right? Don't you do, like, drills and training and such like other soldiers?"
"Hush!" Kitala hissed at Jaina, and sounded admonishing but the way her eyes sparkled made it plain there was nothing to worry about. "Don't let Areiel hear that and get ideas. And for the record, we work very hard to avoid drills and training and such like other soldiers if they have any brains."
Clea looked at her ranging partner with such dry amusement that Jaina highly doubted the veracity of Kitala's statement.
"You are right, Lady Proudmoore, we have a lot of maintenance and training to do and it used to take up most of our spare time before we were assigned as your guards." Anya explained. "Taking care of our gear is actually easier now thanks to the room we have next to yours where we can put our things, but training is harder to make time for. We usually schedule some time for that when two of us go out to gather food or other things for you."
"Meaning our noble leader does that, even though she is unparalleled when it comes to overlooking her own contributions." Kitala added.
"Quite true." Lyana agreed.
Jaina looked with interest at Anya, who almost squirmed on the spot. Jaina understood the feeling of not thinking you deserved such praise all too well. But in this particular case she felt only inclined to add to the dark ranger's embarrassment.
"I for one would never want to be guarded by any other ranger lieutenant, living or dead. So I vote that Anya decides what we do next but make it quick, because we seriously can not stand here talking about what to do for the rest of the day."
The rangers snickered at that and Anya gave it some thought.
"If it would be fine for you, Lady Proudmoore, we always have a good amount of archery to catch up with and we actually have a range in the city – the city above ground. But are you sure it wouldn't bore you?"
"Nonsense, all hands to the archery range it is." Jaina ushered Anya along.
The range was in the southern part of the city, or technically outside it, just outside the former city wall that was especially ruined in this place. Four ordinary targets made of bales of hay and various poles and other ludicrously narrow objects were placed at intervals at different distances from the line.
Jaina found an uncomfortable piece of rubble to sit on while Anya started the day's practice.
"Five at fifty steps, five at seventy." she ordered. Jaina looked over the range. There were some poles far away and some even further away that looked far too narrow to act as targets. Maybe Anya had meant something else…
"Swish!"
Anya had not meant something else.
"Swish! Swish! Swish!"
Four quartets of arrows competed for space across four small sections of wood. Jaina stood up and wandered closer and closer to the rangers just to watch how they did it. It looked so fluid, so easy and natural. And every dark ranger stood tall as a tree and looked frighteningly competent.
"Five at twenty steps, with our backs turned." Anya ordered.
Jaina frowned at first. Were they going to shoot backwards? But the exercise consisted of each ranger beginning with bows lowered and facing the other side. When Anya whistled each of them turned on the spot, nocked an arrow, and shot at one of the bales as quickly as they could. When they had finished their five shots Jaina applauded.
"Is this what it looks like when rangers are behind on their archery exercises?"
Clea smiled at her and Kitala grinned.
"We have slowed down a little bit, maybe…" Anya thought out loud.
"Don't listen to her, she's too critical. It's some affliction that strikes squad leaders." Kitala protested. "Lyana could probably diagnose her."
"I don't think I've seen archers deliberately turning their back on their targets before. Why are you doing that?" Jaina knew she shouldn't interrupt their practice but she was too curious to keep quiet.
"We are meant to stay in the woods where it is easy to be surprised or ambushed, even for us. If that happens every ranger must be able to shoot fast and accurately at close range." Anya explained.
"Twenty steps? That's your idea of 'close'?"
"When an Amani hunting party charges at you twenty steps is starting to feel very close."
"Or a pack of ghouls. They may be weaker and stupider but they are very fast, and never stop." Lyana added.
"They would be really stupid to come after you." Jaina hesitated. She really shouldn't take up their time now that the rangers finally had gotten some of their own. But they were her friends. They probably wouldn't mind. "Could…mmm…could I try?"
Every ranger looked up at her.
"I mean just a little, I wouldn't want to disrupt your training. I can wait until you're done, if that's better…" Jaina begun to reserve herself, but then Anya smiled so widely that she forgot the rest of her reservations.
"Rangers!" Anya called out proudly. "Line up and show Lady Proudmoore how it is done. Now I want to see perfect form from everyone!" she added sternly.
She started to describe to Jaina what was important to think about and how to take aim with Clea, who was nearest, as the example. Clea, who happened to be a strikingly athletic example too. Jaina tried to remind herself that Lyana and Anya and Kitala could do it too, who were more commonly built for rangers, and to not be too envious. Neither was very easy.
"So, Ranger Recruit Proudmoore, take position." Anya looked so happy and that was all that mattered for the moment, Jaina decided as she accepted the dark ranger's heavy bow. "Try drawing it a few times first."
"Yikes!" Jaina exclaimed when she tried.
"Good, you can draw it at least. Most elves spend years building up their strength with lighter bows for practice before they start using these. Now, stand as we do with your arm out like that, take up the arrow…"
Jaina did not get further until her long chain got caught around the lower end of the bow. She tried to let it hang on the other side and managed that after some fumbling, but when Jaina reached down to pick up the arrow the chain hung down to get snagged around it. Jaina sighed, and laughed in resignation over the silliness of it all. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time she managed to pick up the arrow but when she was going to nock it she dropped the loops of chain and it caught around the bow again.
"Anya, we can't have this." Lyana complained. "We have to get her stupid chains out of the way, this is bloody unworthy."
"No, you don't need to…"
"Quiet in the ranks, Ranger Proudmoore." Anya ordered, with an almost triumphant smile that Jaina had to return. Apparently Anya had decided to show as little understanding for Jaina denying herself as Sylvanas for Jaina diminishing herself. "Everyone to the barracks, on me, forward march!"
The ranger barracks were surprisingly enough above ground and turned out to be a reasonably whole ruin of some large building, perhaps some form of guild hall or office. The rangers explained that shortage of space in the Undercity made it a priority to move as much activity as possible to the surface and in an emergency it would be quick work for the rangers to move their vital supplies down below. Since they, again, did not have very much apart from their armour and bows. They measured their wealth in arrows and counted on spending each one in defence of their city.
The smaller office rooms that had lined the sides of the large hall in the middle were used for storage and filled that role rather well. It took Lyana no time to dig up a handful of strings and ribbons of cloth, which she used to tie Jaina's chain close to her arms and chest so that she could stretch her arms wide but without it hanging down when she did not.
"Feel good?" Lyana asked expectantly.
"I think so. It looks like it could work."
"Great! Now let's play dress-up!"
"Wh-what?"
"If you're going to be a ranger you will need to look like one, Lady Proudmoore. Now hold out your hands." Lyana grinned and used a spare string as measuring tape around Jaina's shoulders and chest while the rest looked on with matching expressions.
Lyana was gone like the wind and back even quicker with her hands full of dark-lacquered armour parts. Jaina wore two thick shirts against the colder autumn weather, which had sufficed so far thanks to the warming bracelets, and now had one of them over her fettered fetters. On top of that Lyana and the rest dressed Jaina up in a dark rangers full attire. Jaina found herself trapped inside tight, if limited, chest armour, shoulder guards and long vambraces on top of her bracelets. Little would get through to her forearms at least.
"Find her some better fitting pants if you can too." Anya commented with a critical look on Jaina's too large pair. Lyana was back with two tighter ones of black leather.
"I can't find a whole set of leg armour of your size, Lady Proudmoore." Lyana explained. "But maybe that's just as well because it takes a bit of time to get used to everything and some of us prefer to go without them anyway. Now let's see how these look on you."
Jaina felt her ears and cheeks turn red hot despite the cool weather but there was nothing to be done about it, she reckoned. If it amused the rangers she could very well play along, she would do infinitely more than that for them. At least they held back on teasing her like that time when she had been swimming. Until she had gotten her new pants on, that is.
Kitala whistled lewdly.
"She's wearing those or I'm deserting."
"Yes, I really think these fit best." Lyana tilted her head. "Would you like to try the other pair, just in case?"
"Eh, no thanks, I think these will do." Jaina quickly assured her. Undressing in front of a squadron of curious elves once was quite enough.
"I like the shirt." Clea hummed appreciatively. "It's cute on you."
"She could use a bodice to keep it in place though, the shirt's a bit flappy. Or perhaps some kind of leather cuirass to add protection…" Lyana mused. She dusted off her hands. "Well, all in all I think we have a ravishing new ranger, wouldn't you agree, lieutenant?"
Anya had been silent but not taken her eyes off Jaina.
"Do you like it?" Anya asked quietly.
Jaina looked down at herself. The wide shirt made her attire resemble a romantic swashbuckler in a Kul Tiran adventure novel, reminding a bit of Haley Bones' clothing, but there was no mistaking that Jaina was wearing the uniform of a dark ranger.
Jaina's guardians.
Jaina's saviours.
Jaina's friends.
She cleared her throat but couldn't find her voice, but looked Anya in the eyes and nodded.
Anya nodded back, and then turned on the spot and sprinted to the storeroom. She was back with something dark in her hands, that she unfolded. Anya's eyes shone brightly when she gently draped the ranger cloak over Jaina's shoulders and fastened it's ornate metal clasp.
"Let's march out, Ranger Proudmoore. Form up with your squadmates."
Jaina's squadron.
Jaina's wonderfully kind, beautiful lieutenant.
***
Sylvanas had been buried in work (Areiel would definitely use that term) for three days after the guard's return but she felt more at ease than in a long time. Dividing spoils and finally being able to offer some relief for her bare-scraped craftsmen and industries was a comparably pleasant task. And with the deathguard back in the Undercity there was much less risk of the various Forsaken malcontents harming Proudmoore and also far less danger from potential Scourge raids. They were slowly but surely expanding their patrols and territory outside the Undercity again.
Sylvanas had finished another meeting with her City Council which was starting to take on a working form. She would give them free reign with handling most of the mercantile goods from Hearthglen. Hopefully, it would both put the organisational skills of that council to the test and give it a bit of a boost in popularity if one of it's first actions would be to bring material aid to those that sorely needed it. Sylvanas had decided to take a detour around the city to clear her head. It also never hurt to check up on things personally as a commander.
She climbed and jumped among the ruins of the south side of the keep. It was afternoon, and would have been regarded as a beautiful day before when they had reason to care about such things. At least it was healthy weather for her mage.
Sylvanas spied the surroundings, perched on a still standing part of the roof. She looked out over her ruined city. Her miniscule withering kingdom.
Her wretched, poor Forsaken seen walking here and there in plain sight, for once given a short taste of safety.
Her dark rangers at the archery range, she noted fondly and with pride. And…?
Well, well…
Sylvanas smiled broadly and looked closer.
Anya was instructing Proudmoore – in ranger armour, no less - and the mage was dutifully doing her best to follow what Anya showed her, but it was not going well. Anya had simply not had the time to acquire that kind of experience training new rangers as most other lieutenants did, and her quiet and shy demeanour hadn't led to much in the way of that spontaneous training of new and green rangers that could forge a good deal of bonds between the older and newer ones. She was showing Proudmoore how she stood and how she nocked, drew and loosed the arrow, and Proudmoore by all accounts did her best to follow, but maybe a more hands-on approach was needed?
Sylvanas jumped casually off the roof and shifted enough into her banshee form to dampen the fall, a very useful little trick. She strode purposefully towards their range, then stopped. She could use a little exercise herself.
Sylvanas snuck closer on quiet feet hidden behind the closest buildings. It was a good thirty steps of open ground towards the edge of the range, the area being previously a market square or mustering ground. Sylvanas carefully climbed to the top of the closest wall. She braced herself, and jumped as far forward as she could, landing somewhat more easily than someone lacking a banshee's abilities. And also landing quick and close enough to take her squadron by surprise, Sylvanas noted and forced down her grin.
"Lieutenant Eversong, would you be so kind as to report on the progress of our newest recruit?" Sylvanas commanded and kept her expression impassive as the five of them startled and scrambled to stand at attention when they heard Sylvanas' unmistakeably strict tone. Although, she couldn't be completely sure that Anya had been surprised. It was a rare occasion even for Sylvanas to get a drop on Anya and she wouldn't put it past her lieutenant to let herself be surprised for Sylvanas' amusement.
"Dark Lady, Ranger Proudmoore is attentive and quick to grasp the principles of handling the bow effectively, but I have so far failed to demonstrate with sufficient clarity how it is put into practise."
Sylvanas hummed. "Ranger Proudmoore, assume the correct stance as Lieutenant Eversong has instructed you."
Proudmoore did that, which is to say that she raised the bow and probably tried her best to hold it properly.
"Alright, er…I'm finished, Dark Lady."
Sylvanas shook her head.
"You are standing like a drunk magistrix, Proudmoore."
The indignant look on her mage's face was too precious. She was actually pouting a little.
"It can't be that bad. A mildly tipsy magistrix at most."
Sylvanas sighed.
"Straighten your back but don't tense up like a statue. No holding your breath, you living creatures sort of need that, remember?" she instructed as she guided Proudmoore with her hands to stand properly.
"Relax." Sylvanas reminded her. Belore, her mage was really working herself up over nothing. Her pulse had quickened and she was turning redder and redder. "Elbow up a little, good… And eyes forward." Sylvanas mumbled as she continued to adjust and arrange Proudmoore. She had to gently turn her mage's chin back into position a couple of times when Proudmoore wanted to glance at her rather than the target she should keep her focus on.
"Hold your bow steady, not stiffly. Your movements must be strong but smooth, most of all when you loose your arrow." Sylvanas made some last adjustments to the mage who now stood with her bow drawn and ready.
"Loose."
The arrow flew to hit the target, but well outside any of the rings.
"Be a little gentler with your bow, you twitched as you released the bowstring." Sylvanas directed. It was a common mistake before an archer had gotten fully used to her bow and despite Sylvanas' insistence on the opposite Proudmoore had tensed up a little from keeping the heavy ranger bow drawn.
Her mage nodded.
"Now resume your stance, and no slacking off."
Sylvanas had kept speaking in her most calm and even instructor's tone but she was secretly finding all of it increasingly enjoyable. How long had it been since she had last gotten to train a new ranger of any kind? And Proudmoore's expression when she focused on doing everything the way Sylvanas had told her was just so endearing. It was not the same hard, taut concentration she had displayed when channelling her current spell at sea for hour after hour, there was something so much softer and livelier about it.
The next arrow hit inside the third of the four rings.
The rangers cheered and clapped and Proudmoore looked like she didn't completely believe she had managed that.
"Next one." Sylvanas ordered.
This time Proudmoore made everything too fast for her level of skill yet still hit inside the third ring, but further out.
"Again." Sylvanas whispered. "Breathe in. Breathe out." It was curious how her mage immediately relaxed when hearing Sylvanas' changed tone but still managed to keep her focus up. "Gently now. Smoothly release…"
It was the best shot so far, Sylvanas could see it before the arrow landed. It hit the target just inside the second ring.
Proudmoore blinked herself out of her trance-like state, seemingly incredulous.
"Did…did I do that?" Her eyes were wide and shiny.
Sylvanas smiled inwardly. It was just like when Anya had scored her first good hit all those years ago. She leant in closer to her mage's little mouse ear to smoothly whisper her approval.
"Good girl…"
