Hale Cress

Path to Origin

The sea was a stranger to the land viper but it was the salt in the air that reminded her of the circles she and her sister would draw along the wooden floor boards at late hours into the night. The wax, smell of sulfur and the burned herbs were a familiar memory and one that was short lived when the crashing waves ceased. Boralus began to crest in the distance and the very cloudy overhang of the air welcomed the crew of the Dreadful Howl. Waves kissed at the belly of the ship and the horizon drew a long picture of muted seafoam green roofs and docks, gulls in the air and the bustle of voices just across the stretch of water.

She had been to Boralus once and only once in search of information before she had found herself along the Dreadful Howl with Voss’s crew.

It was during this time and over several weeks she had come to know Oricila a little better, their other companions such as Vinnie and Georgie as well as Thierry and the mass collective of what made the ship move.

They were porting along the vicinity of old noble houses and seafaring folks. None in which Hale happened to connect with outside of coin and nobility. The city was larger than she seen of Stormwind and her docks back in the Eastern Kingdoms and much of what she had been privy to during her last visit via portal was just the alleyways and taverns before making a quick exit.

The crew had already begun their lowering of the sails and Voss yelling commands over the rukus as the starboard side of the ship finally brought up along to the waiting docks. Large ropes and the anchor were casted to steady the Howl along its nest before the Crew and the others began collecting their things. They of course had seen this tale a dozen times over and must have docked at hundreds of shores or cities to know the ins-and-outs of what was expected of them.

“Do you remember the shopkeep?” the hollow voice whispered in Hale’s ear and she could feel the long gangly fingers of it upon her shoulder in a tight squeeze.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Hale didn’t wait for much before she stepped off the ship and slipped into the crowd. It was easy enough to go unseen for the most part as Hale was dwarfed by many of those and the buildings that dwelled within the area, “He better have it finished.” she muttered, shoving gently past a couple gathered at the stocks. There was a narrow alleyway where the cobbled stoneway ended and the figure of the woman stepped into the shoppe at the very end of the dirt path.

“Something on the wind told me you’d be ‘ere soon.” the old man called out once the bell tolled above the door. He turned to Hale from his counter and his longer fingers smoothed out over the counter top as she approached.

“A sixth sense?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“Something like that.” the old man rattled and for a brief moment she could have swore she seen him look behind him into the darkness of the drawn curtains.

The shop was filled with typical dark trinkets and knick-knacks. Candles and Incense, herbs, remedies and even walls layered with crystal balls for scrying and their pedestals, skeletons and an occasional fun cauldron overflowing with polished rocks, “Do you have what I paid for? A couple of weeks should have sufficed.” Hale asked and her attention drew back to the man when she stepped forward in an unintentional sultry stride.

“We do.” dipping a hand under the counter he withdrew a thick parchment and unfolded it out in front of her. To her surprise the entirety of the tawny sheet was blank.

Blank?

“Kill the fool!” the words hissed at her ear and without preamble of what was to come, Hale jerked the man forward by his scruffy little woolen shirt and the blade of a knife met the outside of his nostril, “Is this a trick old man? I’ll gut you in your own shop, do not mistake me.”

“N-no..” he garbled out and his long finger tapped the blank parchment, “You asked for a map to find your roots. S-see ‘ere..” he chuckled and Hale slowly released her grasp as she looked back down to the parchment, “It’s based off of the bloodlines in Kul Tiras.” he began and he took her palm and pried the dagger from her fingers, “Old magic resides ‘ere along with dangerous tides. You’ll come to find that the land ‘ere is just deep seeded with painful and dark history.” there was no warning when he took the blade along her palm and the moment Hale winced at the sting, the shop keep turned her hand over, squeezing it. Her blood found the beige sea of the parchment and when it began to center, pooling and collecting, it then thin lined out into what looked to be an enchanted drawing. It looked to vein and map itself according to the landscapes of Kul Tiras, drawing out in her vital the very shapes and figures she recognized from Voss’s maps he used for coordinates. There was a hiss at her ear once more from the creature she carried with her and the drawing of her blood picked up speed and jolted across the page until it stopped and the shopkeep’s finger pressed along the crimson, “ ‘ere – ” he finally spoke, indicating where the blood finally stopped, “Fletcher’s Hollow is where you will start your search.”

Hale stared for a few long moments at the majesty of the map. He had certainly delivered to her what she had asked and paid for but she had not known to this extent. The blood along the parchment began to dry at an alarming rate and the void filled blur to Hale’s eyes began to subside which was a simple product of her fight or flight mechanism as a Void Priest, “What should one expect?”

“Witches. Remnants of the Drust – everythin’ that goes bump in the night.”

A furrowed brow found Hale’s expression and she gathered her map, hand still bleeding though it didn’t seem to bother her much, “We’ll fit right in.” she replied and tucking the map along her belt for safety.

“We?” he asked.
“Me and my Shadow.”
“An imaginary friend? Lass you’re a little old for that make believe.”
“I could say the same for you.” she spoke and looked past the man into the black mass that resided behind him though to the untrained eye, it was just a wall. This of course caused the old man to offer a twisted smile.

“Shadows keep you.” Hale offered and with a bow of her head, she took her dagger and wandered from the small shop.

Thankful that the pungent smell of the shops incense had left her, Hale eventually found herself back to the Dreadful Howl and already the deck of the ship had been cleared out and the skies grew dark. Night was coming and much of her companions were already rife with whiskey in their bellies at the local tavern.

“To Drustvar.”
“Not yet.” Hale ordered as she settled along the deck dipping her hand into a wooden bucket of cool water, “I’m not ready to leave.”

“You have everything you need. You have provisions and the map, you need to go.”
“Not yet.” Hale spoke out again, speaking to herself as it looked to be that way.

The hissing in her head picked up and the Priest closed her eyes to block out the oncoming tantrum that was about to play within the cage of her skull. At first it was a loud tempo and then it hummed into an annoying pressure against her very ears and brain, “Are you quite done?” she mused with a condescending smirk and finally Shadow ceased allowing her to tend to her hand.