Shades of Meaning, Chapter 7 - High Elf Storyline - Warhammer Online

Chapter Lore: Liraedeon watched with satisfaction as camp preparations were completed with graceful efficiency. The Shining Guard camp now lay north of the Dragon Gate, moved in response to the Dark Elf incursion at Elbisar. Nodding at the pair of young Elves standing guard outside his command tent, a sense of familiarity nagged at his mind. These two were not under his command, their tabards designated them as belonging to Captain Nenthuil's regiment. Recognition followed hard on that thought as the swordmaster identified the angry Elf woman awaiting him.

"Scholar Riana, to what do I owe the pleasure of your gracious presence? Forgive me but we are far from Mirelen."

"I tell you we walk in the grips of prophecy, Liraedean, yet we are blind."

The two young Elves standing guard exchanged a glance beneath burnished silver helms. Nothing remained in Riana's speech of the gentle scholar who had been sent from Hoeth. Disguised beneath the calm demeanor and blazing intelligence lay a will as hardened as that of any military commander.

"I have heard of this prophecy, Riana, and I am troubled by our single-minded response toward the discovery at Mirelen. Has anyone yet asked what use the prophecy will serve?" The battle-hardened swordmaster advanced upon the scholar, "Or am I mistaken, Riana. Have you encompassed the writings of Saruthil and come to grant us victory?"

"The sky shall tear asunder, crimson fire from the wounded moon." Riana lowered her voice. "We have translated enough to recognize the signs, Liraedeon."

"Saruthil is an ambiguity, Riana. He fled Ulthuan rather than remain with the stigma of dishonor." Turning, Liraedeon focused on the battle map and the impenetrable Dragon Gate laying almost directly to the south. There Liraedeon knew, lay the true danger. "Our warriors are not so many that they may be wasted on such ill conceived ventures, a situation for which you may thank our dark kin."

"We are outnumbered, that is true, but we cannot surrender our best hope for victory because we are unwilling to look beyond the battlefield. Give me but a mere handful of warriors and I will bring you one who can unlock the mysteries of these ancient writings. I will find Saruthil himself, I swear it!" The cadence of the scholar's voice took on a ringing peal and was answered a moment later by a deep growl as thunder rolled across the Shadowlands.

"Careful, else you find yourself forsworn. Take five warriors and go, Riana. But take with you the knowledge that every warrior infected by this obsession is a weakness our enemies will use against us, to our doom."

To which Riana, face grown pale in the sudden lightning flash, had no answer.