Hale Cress

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The Cress bells were an heirloom to their family name. A remainder of the sacrifice their people had made in Lordaeon when their Prince deceived them and came to the slaughter. They littered the graves of their dead in campaigns all along Northern to keep the dead silent. It was a warning device that the Cress name implemented to ensure their dead was never risen and to this day – they remained an important piece in the family’s history and continued namesake.

It was already apparent that Ottavia would not bare children; not that she was a woman who cared for children to begin with, which all eyes generally gravitated towards Hale. She would, perhaps some day – and the tradition of the bell would continue.

The raven priest removed her necklace, the bell chimed gently as she then began wrapping the leather choker along the wrapping of her glove and wrist. Her enemies that inhabited their home, was going to hear the Cress might this day. Before their death, they would hear why she was here with her sister and what they came for.

Thankfully, the birthed rays had brought her sister from her sleepless lay in and out among the troops but it was Hale who remained behind. In silence she gathered her wits and fondly thought of the things that they left behind that fateful day and the things her family had fought for over the years and still – no matter where they ended up their strongest roots always resided within Lordaeron. It was their blood.

“For you, father.” she added and brought her knuckles up to kiss the strap of her silver bell. He had been long gone since their replacement to Duskwood which left their mother to remarry over time and new blood they called ‘sister’ into the fold. The family was happy again and thriving. Though with Hale’s return from Dalaran was also a clinging force she could not shake, much of it was bled into mind and vessel now that she could not deny what it had all meant for her. Power. The physique to protect loved ones and to have the amplified means to crush anything that stood in her way.

Cress daughter. Charmer. Poison Crafter. Priest.
She was all of these things and yet none of them resonated with her as much as her calling to Lordaeron did.

And just before her sister would find her within the tent before their drawing of blood, Hale could only think of those she were to leave behind if the two sisters fell here this day.