Niviene Larethian

Niviene walked around the tiny flat, checking the doors and windows to be certain they were locked, fortifying the wards she’d placed around the apartment to insure that they were all safe inside. 

She stepped into the bedroom the children shared, leaning over to brush a lock of golden hair from Korissa’s face then pull the blanket down to cover Banny’s feet. She smiled softly, realizing that the boy would be as tall as his father before long.

As she headed back to the living room she froze, her fingers curling into fists as she listened to footsteps coming up the stairs. She moved silently, reaching for the staff that was propped against a wall and waited, only breathing again as the person passed their door and continued down...

“We’re sorry to bring you here for such a macabre task Ms. Lancaster but we need the next of kin to identify the body.” 

The woman nodded as she stepped up to the cloth draped slab, she waited for a moment then narrowed her eyes at the priest who stood wringing his hands beside her.

“Oh! Oh yes. Sorry. So Sorry.” he muttered as he pulled the shroud back from the body. He fidgeted for a moment then cast a furtive glance at the woman, “So. Is it? I mean… is it.. Your brother?”

The woman turned an icy gaze on the priest, her fingertips drumming heavily on the edge of the slab. The man swallowed thickly, tugged at his forelock and made a hasty retreat from the room, not even bothering with a show of dignity. In his mind...

Niviene stood in the shadows, waiting for Erik to give the all clear before she stepped forward. It was difficult to see where she was going, the deep hood of her cloak cutting off her peripheral vision. It wasn’t the first time that she thanked the Light for the young man who worked for her husband.

The two made their way to a little used postern gate in the fortified walls of Iron Forge where a gryphon sat, calmly munching on a bale of hay. The dwarf who tended the gryphon nodded when he spotted the duo, handing over a pair of reins to Erik. The rogue helped Niviene mount the beast then settled in behind her. He pressed his knees lightly into the gryphon’s flanks and the creature leapt into the air, the only sound, the wind...

“What do you mean she’s gone?! How? Who?” the woman’s voice sounded panicked beneath her heavy veils.

The venthyr raised a placating hand, “She wished it and she knew the man who came for her. She assured us she would be safe.” he glanced at his companion, bidding her to confirm his statement.

The female nodded, “The woman was not happy here Sunshine, she was beginning to resemble the wraiths in the Desiccation. We could not, in good conscience, hold her against her will.” She looked pointedly at the woman, “And you were not here to say nay.”

The male spoke again, his tone matter of fact, “You knew he would come, you had been warned of such. Besides, this is no place for a living, breathing mortal. Though it...

The man stood quietly awaiting the arrival of his master, the picture of dignity and lordly reserve. His dark blonde curls shining in the torchlight, his features appeared to be carved of pristine marble. Heavily lidded eyes of amber swept the room as he wondered when his host would arrive. While he waited Caesarius watched the members of court, taking note of the various cliques, and who appeared to be in, or out, of favor.

It was only time hewn experience that allowed the man to hide his surprise when he heard a voice speak so close that it might have been in his head.

“The young one has taken you into her confidence, yes?”

“She has sire. She suspects nothing.” 

“What is it they call her? Sunshine? Sunny?”

“Yes...

Niviene sat at the desk, sky blue eyes resting on the ever growing pile of unsent letters to her husband. By her reckoning, she had been away from home for several months now. She had been certain that her captivity wouldn’t last long. And while she wasn’t exactly being held prisoner now, her liberation had not come about as she had expected it to. Had not come at all.

When she’d caught that glimpse of Erik, the priestess was sure she would be going home soon. But that glimpse was all she’d had. There had been no messages, no more sightings. Nothing.

In her heart she knew that there were few things that would keep Braghaman from finding her. But her head had been filled with the whispered doubts that seemed to permeate the air...

“Don’t worry kid, you’re mum's okay.” 

Korissa narrowed her eyes at the imp, “How do you know about momma?”

The demon snorted and rolled his eyes, “I got connections. Don’t you worry about that either missy. I was sent to tell you she’s safe and she is. So now I’m gonna go.”

The creature looked back at the little girl, cocking his head to the side as he peered at her, “You know, I kinda do see it. Man this is weird, seeing you like this.” he raised his clawed hand and pulled at the air, drawing energy into the beginnings of a portal. He paused, the dark gateway no larger than a window, and looked back at Korissa, “How old are kid, eight, nine?” He nodded before turning back to his task, “Yeah, I’ll...

Niviene sat at the desk, scarlet quill in hand as she stared down at the parchment before her. She sighed heavily, glancing at the scribe beside her, “I don’t suppose you could post this for me?”

Maddie looked down at the paper then gave the priestess a pitying look, “Madame, I will tell you the same thing I have told you with the dozen other letters you’ve written, we do not know where your husband is to deliver his.” she glanced pointedly at the stacks of letters on the table, “It would not be safe to deliver those to your children. The bishop does not need to know where they are, else he attempts to use them against you.”

Niviene nodded, carefully placed the quill back in its stand, scattered sand across the paper...

Niviene lay in the bed, her body tense as a drawn bow string, listening to the noises around her. She didn’t know what made her wake, but she had learned long ago to trust her instincts, something she had become lax with, something the recent events had proven could never be shrugged off as nothing important.

She lay there, listening until the power of sleep had almost lulled her back, when a shadow moved from the corner of the room. Before the priestess could react the shadow spoke, its voice a mere whisper, “It’s alright Mrs. Larethian. I won’t hurt you. I’ve come to help. I know you have no reason to believe me so I brought you this.” the woman held out her hand so that the light slipping into the room between the parted...

“You’ve been watching? What did you learn?’ The voice was low, feminine, of an indeterminate age. The woman to whom it belonged was heavily shrouded in black lace veils until it was nigh on impossible to see her face. But the other woman reckoned she was getting paid enough that those were details she didn’t really need to know.

Caliana nodded, “They know she’s in Draenor somewhere though not her precise location.”

The veiled woman turned away, her voice resigned, “I thought as much. You must bring her here. She will be safe here.”

“Are you sure? This place looks dangerous to me. These people are strange.” Caliana looked pointedly at a dredger, “Grotesque even.”

Soft laughter floated from beneath the veil,...

“What do you mean she isn’t here?”  her voice was as calm and matter of fact as if she had been asking after his health.

The sergeant of the guard gave a soft sigh of relief, relaxing the clinched muscles in his stomach. “Well miss she just isn’t. The folks that were there said she’d gone to another outpost. The lot of ‘em did ma;am, the whole crew she was with. ”

“And did you find her there?” the priestess asked.

“Uh… no miss. It was orders to have her moved and since she’d already gone we figured the work was done.” he answered, his voice less sure than it had been before.

Adeliza Lancaster straightened, turning cold, hard eyes on the man. He swallowed thickly, his stomach knotting again as she took a...

Life in the garrison hadn’t changed since she’d been there last. There was the usual bustle of people coming and going, hunters and farmers bringing in food for the populace, soldiers patrolling the walls and the perimeter.

The draenei who had taken over once the Shrouded Dawn left had done well. The small fortress was well fortified and guarded. She knew she was safe, knew that Lancaster could not reach her here. 

It had been several days since she had finally rid herself of the last of the drugs that had warped her mind to the bishop’s bidding. Finara, Xaanau, and the elder draenei women watched her closely, ensuring that she ate properly, fussing over her pale skin and the circles under her eyes.

They watched her so closely...

The older draenei women gathered Niviene between them and hustled her off to a room in the upper reaches of the keep while Xaanue spoke to her father and the captain of the garrison guards. She explained, as best she could, the situation with the priestess, emphasizing the mistreatment she had received. The men nodded and turned to give orders to the watch sergeant, the newcomer was to be protected at all costs.

“I think she’s been drugged. She suspected it could happen so she refused to eat, only drank water. Still, she has a mindless focus on treating the injured. I don’t believe it’s a normal focus, I literally mean mindless…” Finara spoke to the women, trying to make them see the gravity of the situation.

“Yes, I’m...

“You know, I’ve never seen her eat, all she takes is water.” the woman whispered to her companion as they watched the priestess, zombielike in her dogged efforts to treat the wounded that trickled into the field hospital.

They watched her for a moment before the other woman replied, “I don’t think she sleeps either. Not enough you could tell it anyway.”

A third woman shook her head, tisking, “It ain’t natural I tell you. No one is that dedicated to the Light.”

The first woman gave a bark of laughter, “You haven’t seen his grace, the bishop have you? This one would set that cold heart to pitter patting.”

Finara shook her head, her brow creased with concern, “No. It isn’t natural. She’s like a machine...

“I insist you open this cell now. This instant.” her voice was low and sharp as the executioner’s axe while her pale blue eyes were as cold as the ice on Anvilmar Lake.

The guard swallowed thickly but stood his ground. “Orders are no one sees the prisoner.”

The woman took a deep breath, leaning menacingly close to the guard. “He is my brother. I demand to see him.”

“Begging your pardon ma’am but you’re being another priest and all don’t give you pass to see the prisoner.”

“He is my brother by birth you dolt. We share parents, we share blood.” she straightened, bringing her several inches taller than the guard. She peered down the length of her narrow nose, her expression leaving no doubt as to her lowly...

There were no new patients, everyone had been seen to. They were resting as comfortably as possible in a field hospital; all was quiet save for the soft snores and occasional muttered word. Niviene stood, her gaze locked on the tent flap, her body poised as if ready to spring into action. 

“I can’t believe we actually get a chance to breathe.” the night elf commented as she pushed a lock of dark blue hair from her eyes. She looked at Niviene with a weary smile. “I think you’d best rest miss. This lull isn’t likely going to last long.”

She frowned slightly when there was no response from the blonde woman. “Miss? Are you alright?” she asked, moving to stand in front of the priestess. Niviene didn’t move, she...

It took her a few moments to realize that the rumbling had actually come from her stomach rather than the battlegrounds just outside the confines of the tent. Niviene pressed her hand to her belly briefly, willing it to cease its grumblings before she turned to the next patient that demanded her attention.

It had been several days since she’d eaten, refusing the food that her “hosts” had provided. Being kept against her will, the priestess was never sure if the food was drugged or not. She knew that she had been much more docile upon arrival than was her nature, and the food had been the only means of which any drug could have been administered. Or at least that was her reasoning.

Niviene stood at the tent flap, peering into the...

“You don’t belong here.” 

Niviene raised her head, shoving a mass of dirty, tangled hair from bloodshot eyes. She looked around, her unfocused eyes finally settling in the general area of the one who spoke, “I don’t even know where here is.”

“Yeah? Well I’ll give ya odds it ain’t where you’re supposed to be.” the speaker stepped closer to the priestess, sniffing lightly at the air around her, “You’re a healer ain’t ya? You smell of camphor, and blood.”

Moving away from the diminutive woman, Niviene was finally able to clear her head enough to take in their surroundings. Her companion was a goblin with hair the color of ripe strawberries, pulled up in a ponytail that bounced when she moved, her bangs...

“I want her to go with the next group out.” Bishop Lancaster glared at Niviene from across the way. “She must be made to serve the Light as is her duty. Do not give her time to think, time to pine for her family. A priest’s first, and only, duty is to serve the Light. She has forgotten that. We will remind her, even if it breaks her in the process.”

The underling priest glanced at the Bishop before nodding his head, “Yes sir. Of course sir. Might I suggest Maldraxxus. There should be more than enough going on there to keep her occupied. It is not the place for the faint of heart. She will be kept on her toes, she will either see the error of her ways, or break.”

Lancaster chuckled merrily, “Yes. That will do nicely....

Niviene raised her head as yet another stretcher bearing a gravely ill soldier was jostled into the crowded space. She heaved a sigh, shoved a dirty lock of hair from her eyes and moved on to her next patient.

She’d left Oribos, against her will, and entered Bastion. The locals had been kind enough to alot them a space near Aspirant’s Rest in which to make a triage space. The wounded came in steadily and she was one of the ones to determine who would be treated and who was too far gone to be saved. She hated it. And she hated Bishop Lancaster for putting her in this position.

He had given her a choice, be locked up in a cell to stew, or actually make some good out of the circumstances she found herself in. At first she had planned...