Serana Arrowshifter

(('Tis a work in progress))

-Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.

Description: Clad in leather armor in weather of all types remains one of the constants of this Druid's appearance. She is most known by robes laced with an extensive maze of pockets; in which contains a fair number of seeds, fruits, nuts, and other plant materials. (Most noticed by those with sensitive noses of course) When addressed she is courteous and brief, albeit with a weary air.

She is white haired and pale skinned, a source of much grief among her kin for its human hue. She has a strong, angular face with narrowed eyes suited to her profession of mending flesh. On the left side of her jaw are four whitened lines of older claw marks. Un-clothed (Which has only happened once. See later paragraph.) She carries a good deal of extra scar tissue as befitting a Healer of her age.

'''Beginnings '''

Serana was born as a single child to Arlana and Rosko Arrowseeker in Isildien of Southern Feralas, back before the city had been totally abandoned. Her mother was a Hunter while her father was a Warrior so it was natural that she was raised for the Sentinel lifestyle. Once she was of age she was sent to be taught under her mother's side of the family. Here she met her cousin Verewind Arrowstalker, the only surviving member of her family to date.

She participated as a scout during the War of the Shifting Sands around the age of three-hundred. During the majority of the fighting she was stationed in Un'goro, and as a result, only heard about her parents’ death after the Silithid had been pushed back to Ahn'Qiraj.

After the War Serana turned reclusive, partly in guilt at the loss of her parents and being weary of battle. She stuck close to her childhood forests to perform her Sentinel duties in peace.

'''Changing Tactics '''

As time went on things began to change in the world, rumors of green skinned brutes that had a passing likeness to the trolls of old. Green devils. The Orcs. Tales of small, paler skinned beings that wielded magic as the Highborne of old had. Such stories passed through the nation and eventually made their way to her ears. In the Battle for Mount Hyjal she answered the call to arms along with her cousin, Verewind. Once the combat ended she over heard the decision to allow women into the world of Druidic arts. Eager to cast off the mantle of the Hunter that had haunted her since the Shifting Sands Serana applied herself immediately.

Showing an aptitude for wielding energies of nature as a healer she put up her bow forever and earned the spite of her cousin. After a heavy confrontation with Verewind that ended in curses and drawn blood Serana broke with the last remnant of her family. She took up the last name "Arrowshifter", in honor of her new way of life, and then abandoned her Birthtitle. Since then she gives her name as merely Arrow. She seldom mentions her previous profession by name but her tracking skills in Feline form have caused many a speculation.

'''Spreading Roots '''

Toiling as a Druid healer, Arrow worked her way back into Elven society. When the Alliance had been struck with the other nations in the Eastern Kingdoms she pledged herself to the cause and was overseas inside a month. During this time she cultivated her instinctual urges to reach out those in need on an empathic level. Not being able to pass by anyone in pain without granting some measure of peace, a boon in the medical tents, a curse on the battlefields. Spending a few years being shuffled from battlefront to sidelines she learned that along with her talent for saving those close to death she was an apt informant. Shorter lived races became easier to reason out on a working level. From the repetitive changes in company few noticed that the once unapproachable Druid was coming to them, joining their conversations, listening to the unsaid. Humans, she soon learned, were brash and easy to predict as a whole. With a little patience and well placed words they could crumble easily.

Two decades of war effort later and Arrow was discharged from the Alliance corps. Seeing no other opportunity that captured her interest quite like the front-lines she made up her mind to explore the continent as far as she could. It took three years to work from the Alterac Mountains down to Lakeshire, Redridge. Spending most of her time in cat form she began to prefer it over two legs. So much so that upon her arrival in the human town she slunk around like a stray, ever listening to those who spoke carelessly in front of a mangy feline. All talk turned to Stormwind. During the Human and Orc wars she had heard that one of their capitals had been razed and effort had been made to rebuild the city. It was obvious to her ears that they had been successful and resolved herself to sojourn there to see how the nation was fairing after so much time.

'''City Life '''

Stormwind was like nothing she had ever imagined. It compared on a level far different then any Night Elven city, it reeked. She had grown used to the state of army camps but this... It left her at a loss for words on how to breathe through such a stench. If she hadn't spent so much time in a panther shape her opinion would have varied greatly. Gathering her wits and deadening her nose Arrow stole into the city with the evening rush. In the press and crush of living bodies she was lost. Many times she was knocked nearly clear off her feet, her tail or her toes trodden on until she wisely took to the rooftops, more or less in fear for her life. It was obvious to her as she peered down at the crowds of the Trade District that one did not survive here alone for long. On more than one occasion she noticed teams of wiry men and women weaving through the gathering effortlessly, picking pockets, stealing goods just a hot second from the guards that milled in the masses. This system of wealth was curious to her during the war and even more so now, the tradition of paying for goods with shiny metal bits instead of by need of the individual. These "coins" seemed to be the focal point of the thefts, confirmed once she caught sight of the authorities snatching a human male from the crowd to relieve him of his gathered spoils. Arrow had almost dismissed the incident completely but before she looked away members from the same team made a daring rescue of their fellow in irons. Using a mixture of brute force, stealth, and distraction to manage their mission. Surprised at these circles within circles of mortal life the memory of the event persisted for a long while after.

Taking it upon herself to join one of these rogue militant-like guilds Arrow set her sights on the House of Grey, intrigued about their day time trading business that hid a den of thieves. If there was one thing she knew well it was that every active fighting group needed a steady healer. If not more than one. She spent a week and a half observing them in the shadows before making her move to address their leader, Seth Grey. The man himself was not much to look at but she managed to catch him in one of his rare moments alone to make her proposition. She would provide them with consistent medical assistance and in return gain a place among their ranks, "Why do you want to join us?" Seth asked to which she replied with a shrug and layers of meaning, "Knowledge is power."

'''House of Grey '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Her initiation to the House was a clear indication of what she had gotten herself into. The first test Seth put her through was a fight with his second-in-command: Raven. She held her own against the male Night Elf and did her best to make it look effortless but in truth she was struggling to keep her blocks and attacks in place. She would spend more time out of cat form to regain her reflexes that had been lost from that point on. The duel ended in a draw and she was accepted within their guild with more or less open arms. In the first few days she kept her feet close and under her, being careful to not tread on any toes. Soon enough there was work for her to do. Among the House she learned each member by name: Seth, Raven, Catherfana, Adelaide, and later added Thaelan. Seth had a penchant for getting into trouble. Nearly every afternoon he showed his face in public he would then be stalked and attacked, sometimes by singular opponents and then other times in groups. On one occasion he had his legs shattered from a charging horse and being trampled, after which any form of incident Arrow would be called by communicator device to repair the damage. On one notable evening an anonymous man hired the House under their daytime alias, the Greywood Trading Company. He had directly given Seth a crate of materials with strict instructions not to look inside. Before Seth could disobey the request the Stormwind Guard made an appearance, demanding to know the exact contents of the box. Upon inspection there were piles of treasonous papers and propaganda. The House members were arrested on the spot, most made their own escape but Seth spent four days in the Stocks as a result.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Gathering Friends '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Weeks went by with this sort of behavior, sparking a fire of frustration in Arrow's mind that burned for days. The House of Grey itself was a small, close knit pack of members which in their profession was a blessing but among the constant fighting it was slowly breaking them down. When in war there were rotations and reserves of men, allowing time for those first ranks to revive themselves before returning to the battle. Safety in numbers. They needed allies.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''The Ravenholdt Blades '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">The Park was a source of social meetings. People from all walks of life came here to rest and relax with friends. Here Arrow staked herself, watching from the rafters for suitable candidates to aid her cause. Controlled by a mixture of rational indifference gained long ago as a Sentinel she focused her attention onto a returning group she had seen pass this way many times. The Ravenholdt Blades. It was a guild led by one of the stockiest dwarves she had ever laid eyes on, later she would know him as Brenthgar. She insinuated herself into their meetings under her guise of cat form to listen and learn about these masked people, winning simple favor by acting her part as an overly affectionate feline to the leader and others that seemed important to the inner workings. Arrow stalked them as often as her duties allowed. Soon enough she became an accent at Brenthgar's side, acting as both companion and extra pair of ears to the Guild Leader. She discovered a hidden talent she possessed, an ability to show up at opportune moments when interesting information was being spoken on. In the later months she used such skills to keep fresh information circling through both the House and Blades.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">After she had thoroughly worked out her personal relation to the Blades she approached Seth with the issue of an alliance between the two groups. He accepted readily and a meeting was soon established to take place between the two leaders at Ravenholdt Manor, the House's base of operations and an affiliated branch to the Blades. More or less neutral ground. The meeting went very well, each side flexing a little muscle and cementing the bond between each group and bearing the fruit of Arrow's labors on both sides. It was a happy occasion of combined hope for a safer future. So that if one group needed assistance the other would respond to the call to arms and therefore marked a new chapter of prosperity for House and Blades. Even in these good times conflicts managed to emerge. A few people were unhappy with the turn of events on both sides. On the House side was Raven himself, not enjoying that the House had to resort to depending on outside help to solve their problems. On the Blade side was Xanstin, abstaining from comment but resenting the bond with sneered words and a haughty attitude.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Work Begets Work '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Arrow had her work cut out for her. Once people expect a certain level of responsibility from you the relaxation and time allotted to sleep seem to disappear. Time to yourself vanishes on the wind. Now that she had gotten what she wanted, work never stopped. The House and the Blades were slowly meshing together into a friendly, cohesive whole. With the lack of sleep Arrow subtlety changed, spending most of her time unseen in cat form and seldom reverting to her Elven shape only when needing to speak for great lengths of time or to heal. With the bond to the Blades Arrow also became their impromptu medic, mending everything from bomb wounds to reviving those from the dead. Anything and everything that could happen did, and frequently. The only time she found a measure of peace was strangely in Brenthgar's presence. His gruff and forward personality was a relaxing change from the corrupt riddles she had to piece together on a daily basis to keep a few steps ahead of those who threatened the allied guilds on both fronts.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Seemingly over night new recruits flooded into the House and Blades, gaining new trainees and an endless source of new eyes. With the good came bad and the Valorwind Regiment rose to challenge their new prowess first.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Assault of the Valorwind Regiment '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Valcore, a newer addition to the House started the conflict. Arrow later learned in a sit down with Seth that he had slapped one of the Valorwind members without provocation and simply wandered off. All too late she managed to get her hands on Valcore, as he had been sent back to them beaten and broken in body. Before any damage could be fixed politically the Valorwinds started to target other House members outright when they were with their Blade counterparts. It sparked a fight that took over a fourth of the Park itself before things cooled down. In an effort to calm things between the Valorwinds Arrow approached the woman that Valcore had struck with the newly healed offender in tow and made attempts at amends. Thankfully they managed to calm the initial hatred but the larger aggression did not cease with that. The next few days brought their small scale war to the Stormwind Harbor, an all out attack between the majority of the Blades and the Valorwinds with a few members of the House. Before the crowd broke into violence Brenthgar made a bold challenge to the leader of the Regiment. To solve this constant fighting he would fight him one on one for the insult one man made who wasn't even under his command. Brenthgar lost with severe injuries. Arrow was at SI:7 when his Blades brought him in and laid him out on the floor. By the time she was able to take a full breath without worrying about the Dwarf fading from life completely she wore his blood up to her elbows.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Turning Tides '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Repeatedly Arrow petitioned Seth to remove Valcore from the House all together but was turned down. "We don't abandon our people." he told her after she pressed for a explanation. She left his presence in a fury and with growled words, "If you want something done right you must do it yourself." In these rocky times a less direct threat started to form. Raven and Seth had been taken under sway with a new member, a paladin by the name of Thaelan. He provided the House with his own engineering creations. Many of which were torture devices that Arrow shied away from. She spent as much time as possible with Brenthgar, stress driving her to seek deeper for the familiarity and comfort of a confidant. It took her longer than anyone else to notice the connection forming between them on a personal level but once she did she encouraged the gossip. It was obvious to those less devoted members of the Blades that the House took more than it gave in return, it was a small organization shadowed by more powerful people. Not in arrogance but in necessity Arrow toiled to keep the alliance even and firmly together. Even to the point of being courted Brenthgar. She began teaching a new Druid of the House, Lyyiai, the arts of healing to allow her own self more room to maneuver between the two guilds.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Hexon Grier '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Even when it seemed like they had their hands full with internal and external fighting another threat crawled up and died on their doorstep in a very unpleasant manner. In a normally quite evening Arrow was spending at Brenthgar's side they received a desperate call over the Blade comms from Madgam in the Harbor. The message was hurried and brief. He and two others were under attack. Without hesitating they both arrived on the scene to find a full scale fight between the three Blades and a single robed man. Eagerly the pair joined the fray. After a few seconds it was evident that this was no normal opponent but a Warlock. Almost immediately they were overwhelmed by his mixture of Fel magic and demonic servants. The Warlock's wards acted as an impenetrable force against the rogues from the Blades as they needed close contact for their weapons to rend flesh. Every time one did so, as Ghosst discovered, was that the man-monster's flesh would burst with a thick red liquid that burned akin to acid through armor and skin. When Arrow drew the Warlock's attention by rooting him to the earth he turned a Fel Hunter onto her. She was saved from the life draining tentacles by reverting to cat form and snapping off the left appendage with her teeth. She was nearly caught by the last tentacle if not for Madroy's skillful aim with a gun. With the demon dispatched and wailing in pain the robbed man casually gestured with a wrist, banishing the creature into the Nether only to summon one more powerful, a Voidwalker. All while the Blades wielded a combination of explosives and gun shot that was for the most part ineffective. The Voidwalker waded through them like grass, smashing Ghosst first into the earth and knocking him out. A sense of terror washed of those remaining, how could one possibly defeat an incorporeal being? "Attack the bracers! Break its bindings!" The words sprang out of her mouth even as she noticed the very physical bracers the demon wore. The bindings shattered and the demon faded away. "Curse you, Druid." Snarled the Warlock just as he tore open a rift in the air and vanishing only to reappear behind them all. The next to fall was Brenthgar. Arrow watched in sickened disgust as the Warlock tilted back his head and vomited up a long sword. The thought was in her head but not out of her clenched teeth fast enough, "Don't touch that weapon!" She had a brief second to watch the Warlock's tanned face turn into an angry leer to a pleased smirk as he tossed the sword at the dwarf and the dwarf caught it on reflex. Instantly the dwarf was brought down by the dark energies in the metal. Seeing Brenthgar suddenly fall sent Arrow into a rage. How dare this man waltz in and slaughter the people she cared about, the arrogance displayed drove her from her safe distance to the violent close range she had warned everyone against. Her claws found purchase in the loose clothing on the Warlock's frame, allowing her to use the momentum of her spring to sling him across the dockyard grounds. He was closely followed by a barrage from the remaining Gam and Roy. Unable to think at a level of speech Arrow stalked the disoriented dark caster as he rose and looked at her with a mix of insanity and glee in his eyes, lighting the ground alight with hellfire. Once more she used his body as her sticking post, tumbling them both to the desecrated earth with her teeth at his neck and clamping down hard. Red goo oozed up from under his body, sinking into her fur and forcing her to spring away and change forms to save herself from the burns. With his last shot Gam fired a shot at the wounded Warlock that cracked the Fel scales he had been using to block similar projectiles much earlier in the fight. Still capable of inflicting great amounts of damage he cast a deadly Rain of Fire that put the last two of her allies in critical condition and on the ground. A blast of Moonfire ravaged the failing defenses and put the man-monster in a near fatal state. Arrow was instantly torn as she looked across the space remaining and had to make a choice. The Blades around her were at the edge of death because of this corrupt slave to Fel magic. Both she and the Warlock understood that she had a choice as he tore open another rift, this one to escape. She had just enough energy to save the fallen men around her or to launch a final attack to slay the monster that had decimated them in the first place. To take away the threat of this one human or protect the lives she had sworn to. Revenge or salvation. With a painful screech Arrow sunk to the earth and plunged her arms into the loose soil, using the dirt as a medium in her Tranquility spell. By the time she had spent the last of her energies on the healing of the Blades and turned her gaze back up the Warlock was gone.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''New Blood '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Things were put into perspective for Arrow after that fight and as a result she began pestering the House and blades both the start recruiting outside of traditional assassins. -Something- besides the Warriors and Rogues that made up the bulk for their fighting force. For the most part she was ignored but different classes slowly started to seep into the system. She spent more time with Lyyiai and even recruited one of the Blades, Madgam, to be their test subject for healing. Like most Druids Lyyiai showed an aptitude for the art, albeit at the expense of Arrow's stress levels when Lyyiai mended a wound with her own life energy instead of using a plant medium. After a few more lessons and a bloody Gam later there wasn't much progress. In a lazy afternoon of relaxation after one such practice Arrow and Brenthgar took to the Pig and Whistle. Him to drink, her to nap. As they lounged on the second floor of the tavern members of the Blades would file in and walk by them. Silently at first before Sidorio made a second trip up the stairs. He smiled at both her and the dwarf who had trained their eyes on him. "Brenthgar." the human Death Knight said with formality and laughter mixed "...Arrow.” this time with more mirth as he shuffled by. Gam also repeated this maneuver before Roy joined him. It was rather apparent that this was the way that the Blades were expressing their opinion of their Leader's choice in a girl friend. Arrow mentally weighed her options, get up and chase them around for such a display or to shrug it off and go back to sleep in relative safety. Her eyes closed with her decision.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">The night drew on and more Blades filed in to the pub after their shifts out in the field. By this time Arrow had traded her Elven form for a feline one as she rested on the floor next to Brenthgar's chair, a silent message to those who knew her that she was in a good mood. Out of the other two seats at the table one was taken by the young Warlock Danalieth and another new recruit who had just sat down, Lokhir. Her tail flicked once as she opened her eyes to the new voice and saw a youthful, masked rogue. He was speaking to Brenthgar just over her head in low excited tones. Arrow got up and stretched her length full out, watching the rogue turn and look at her movement when Brenthgar ran a leather gloved hand down her spine. She shifted herself until her large head was in Lokhir's lap when Brenthgar introduced him to her. After a few moments of nudging the thoroughly perplexed man's hand she got him to scratch behind her ears. A few times Lokhir looked up and around at the men at the table before giving up the chair and luring Arrow to one side with his itching fingers. The other Blades spared the pair a smile when she sprawled across the floor after a few minutes with her massive paws kneading claws into his legs. Arrow smiled secretly when she rubbed just a mite too hard against his hand and moved his whole body. The easiest way to gain trust among the untrusting was to do something friendly and unexpected. For most of those in the Blades it was the white, fuzzy panther in Lokhir's lap. She purred a throaty laugh when her weight finally bowled the rogue over and reclined on his prone form. Stoic, un-feeling mercenaries meet cute, furry people sitter. Arrow was shown the worth of this young man later as Brenthgar and his Blades claimed the Pig and Whistle as their own one more night. She was pressing upon Brenthgar the importance of gathering more information on a recent enemy, The Legion. Oddly he kept assuring her that all the intelligence had been gathered and acted upon. The Legion was no more. Put out and surprised that the whole event had been taken care of, she vaguely recalled the mass of letters she had received only a little while ago on all the information the Blades had on this new threat. All signed by Lokhir. She had assumed that he was merely passing on what many of them had collected but she soon understood her error. Neither hide nor hair of the rogue had been seen by her for a few weeks until he suddenly stomped up to their loft that instant. His appearance had changed in his absence, the clothing more citizen looking, almost pressed but undeniably neat. His cowl drew her attention and marked him more than facial features would on any other human male. Other Blades greeted him with cheers and a clap on the back which he took easily but with a slight hesitation. Brenthgar leaned forward and explained quickly before the rogue was within ear shot that Lokhir had taken care of the Legion personally. If there was one thing she had nourished among the cut-throat politics of inflection and facial expression reading populace it was to school her emotions to need. Need of the House, always for the House. When the rogue focused his attention her there was a mask firmly over her face of a polite smile and a nod, everything she needed to reach out a welcome but un-begging hand of friendship to him. She held his gaze a moment longer than necessary before glancing away and closing her eyes with her head propped on one hand as if asleep. Several times that evening Arrow would open her eyes to peer at the rogue curiously under her lashes. Who was this man that had lynched pinned the fall of an entire guild? He caught her looking less than she did but it was enough that she knew the memory would be there. With a sigh she reminded herself of her duty even as Brenthgar recalled her attention for some matter or another. For the House, -always-.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Eyes and Ears '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto"> Among the pressures of Stormwind allied guards, mysterious Warlocks, and grumbling from both guilds there was Sllade and Sarcastica. Out in the field Arrow would frequently come across this menace with the Blades. They were perhaps their greatest opposition, after all one can run from the other two but this enemy shared the shadows with them. They called themselves Eyes and Ears although the rogue master Sllade ran his own Guild, Syndicate of Chaos. The Syndicate would eventually be dead set against The Ravenholdt Blades, feeding them corrupt information, setting the guards on them, kidnapping their members in plain sight. The list would be endless. Arrow would make several attempts to bring down the rogue master but in their future fights of shade and shadow they were equally matched, many ending in Sllade's mocking of her talents before withdrawing. It all started with one dead woman. Things started to shift when there was a near riot on the House side one night. Alarmed by the frantic shouting on her comm Arrow slowly wheedled the information out of Raven and Crimsonfate. Catherfana, a night elf Death Knight of the House, had slain the Spymistress Sarcastica and was now missing. Instantly every available pair of feet hit the ground in search of her but Arrow received a summons by the Blades. SI:7 was quiet when she arrived and met Brenthgar just as he was walking out of the compound with a handful of men. The first thing out of the dwarf's mouth was "Where is she?" Arrow paused midthought and stumbled over her words, "Sarcastica? Sllade took the body." It was the wrong answer and Arrow suddenly found herself being shaken by her friend. "I meant Catherfana, where is she? Are you hiding her?" She narrowed her eyes just then as her private comm device buzzed in her ear to tell her that Seth and Raven had Cather holed up in Ironforge. Brenthgar watched her closely for an answer she could not give. It was a situation bound to happen, the consequences of being so close to the Blades but belonging to the House. She had to choose her loyalties. "I can't tell you." Brenthgar nodded and tossed her much taller body aside as he stomped out with men she had seen joking around with her the night before glare daggers in her direction. All the work she had put into the easiness with the Blades broke apart in a few hours. The Blades had apparently made another alliance with the deceased Spymistress and had not told the House. Soon enough Brenthgar alerted the House to keep her away from him or risk open war. Raven took advantage of the situation to take over as ambassador to the Blades, a coveted position that he had resented her for possessing for awhile. Shocked that things had deteriorated so quickly Arrow literally slunk back to Brenthgar as the bartering of recompense for Sarcastica's death was occurring. She endured the threats and shouts of Raven as she begged Brenthgar to understand their situation. Her allegiances belonged to the House and the House did not give up its own under any circumstances. Just as the Valcore incident had taught her so clearly. Her words fell on deaf ears and the Blades leader turned his back on her and pushed through to Ironforge after he forced an answer out Raven on Cather's where-abouts. Arrow alerted Seth immediately and he made sure the wanted Death Knight escaped under House guard. Stubbornly Arrow followed Brenthgar as he tracked the member of her House, sometimes being chased away and others ignored but she related the Blades location back to Seth. In the end Catherfana was handed over to the Blades after a deal had been struck but the damage had already been done, a fissure started to form between the alliance that had hinged on Brenthgar and herself.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3">'''Strange Plans '''

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">After the Sarcastica incident things began to calm down between the House and the Blades, mostly due to the fact that the House finally realized how tenuous that bond was. More and more both guilds mixed and finally Brenthgar proposed to Arrow. The stress of the situation about Sarcastica had called for more effort on her part, even to the point of marriage. Arrow liked the charismatic leader of the Blades and considered him a great friend, but like many relationships one side felt more for the other. In all truth he had surprised her; she had in essence betrayed him to save her own people and had told her that it was fine; he held no grudge against her. Suspicious to her core she doubted his real intentions but had no choice. She either had to commit herself to him or decline and risk shattering the alliance altogether. Leaving the House vulnerable. Arrow and Brenthgar were to be married within a month. An unnatural depression began filling her up till the day Brenthgar told her he would be leaving for a week for Kalimdor. Trapped by her loyalty once more she let him know that she understood completely and that she'd be here when he returned.

<p style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto">Before he left, Brenthgar put a chain of command in place: Xanstin and Lokhir as commanding officers, Danalieth as a captain. It hardly took a few hours for factions to rise to one side or the other within the Blades. Soon after that Arrow lost most of her connection with the guild as the two halves went underground. She heard not a peep from anyone on those sides for a day or two before she started hunting down anyone she could get her hands on. She came upon Gam and Sidorio in the Harbor and learned from them that Xanstin had made some sort of power-play for the Blades as a whole from Lokhir. Unsettled deeply she looked for the masked rogue herself. She found him just outside of Stormwind with Glorele, a female member of the Blades. Listening in on their conversation she found that they were having, for all intents and purposes, a lovers' quarrel. True to her nature to collect information Arrow waited in silence as the pair broke up with each other based on some previous grievance. She spared a thought for the useless drama of the younger races when Lokhir nearly walked over her. Throwing herself away from the range of his perception she crouched in the shadows to wait for the opportune moment to approach him. Deep seated curiosity pricked her constantly in the seconds she waited through, this was a powerful man, confident, an able fighter. Why would he force himself into a relationship with Glorele? That woman had nothing to offer him in the way of power or standing... Was it her body then? Was he one of "those" men that thrived on the dominance of flesh or was he just lonely? Why now? Why make a move at -this- time on Glorele? He shoud be gathering round his forces against Xanstin and make firm his own ground if not for defense then atleast to prepare an offensive. Was he incompetent at leading groups of his peers, too confident in his position? The compulsion to understand his nature tugged her toward his receeding form. Questions that had only started to form grew enormous, whole scenarios of reasons to the various why's she supplied. He paused and began stretching in the bright dusk light and she took the opportunity to make a decision of her own. Weighting the value of increasing the information over any gain she could use on him that she had been following him in secret she drew up close and called out to him in the darkening night. "You worry me..." Arrow's voice echoed her honest confusion to her own ears as she traded cat form for a two legged shape. So much of her attention centered on the rogue she could feel his demanded to know her purposes for being there as her mind locked into the logical aspect of her personality. "I worry myself sometimes." She padded around him in a loose half circle as he answered, part of her mind talling his reaction to her physical movements and another on his words. His eyes followed her accurately to a muscle, taking all of her in at once other then just one area as melee fighters did. Seeking for the tell-tale shift in balance that signaled an attack. "What do you want with her?" That was a wrench in her thoughts that sprang out when she opened her mouth. Why pick Glorele out of anyone else in the world? Was a lower class logic what did it for him, easy prey his desire? Jealous frustration that she had no right feeling reared an ugly head before she pushed it aside. "Dont start, Arrow." She rankled and narrowed her eyes on him in indignation, he continued unphased. "I know you're a healer and the loving type, but she's..." Thoughts ran across his face in quick succession, irritation and disgust chief among those she noticed in a satisfied smirk. His attention wavered from her face when she turned around. "I don't know, she's something else." The words soothed the wailing curiosity on the inside of her head for a blink or two, then it revived. "I have a question.." She trailed off and paused firmly on two feet till she had his attention. Brutally she shoved her question into his face,"Do you sometimes wish Brenthgar and I were not together?" Unmoving, Arrow absorbed his outward response, rational thought twisting her focus to a point. He seemed taken aback at the abrupt question but managed not to fail her in an answer. "Sometimes." Pleased warmth raced through her veins with a heady high, the brief shove of her analytical thoughts. "Do you want me?" It was a simple question that should have required the smallest amount of honesty to answer. No such luck. "Depends on what you mean by that." Lokhir replied, even the scent of his flesh seemed evasive as she circled him once more. Her body hummed with an urgent pace that her rapidfire thoughts had sparked, so she moved restlessly. Why hide something so clear? His body was trained toward her, responding in fractional signals that anyone could read as interest. Did she repulse him so much mentally that he sought to deny truth? "Do you want me physically?" She rephrased and pressed, herding the answer from him. "There are so many levels of physicality..." He trailed off and gave her more useless fodder that she promptly ignored in favor of the blood she could smell close to the surface. Interrupting him rudely she repeated her question,"Do you want me physically?" His expression turned to one of consideration as she paused midstep, bodily and mentally taunt for an answer of the purest sort. The scales in his mind tipped visibly and he shrugged,"Yes." he answered her simply. Triumph eased through her muscles and brought her tension down to a bareable level. She slunk around him as he began walking. He guided himself toward Westfall at a purposeful speed as she pestered him with her questions. "Why do you want me then?" For a moment she thought her imagination played tricks on her,"A mind is a wonderful thing to love, Arrowshifter." How nice it was to be wanted just because. How clear edged the lack of strings felt around her. At once she felt like a true Night Elf, in tune with her body and with the man beside her. Drunk on the feeling she couldn't resist asking,"And that means?..." "When I look into your mind I see cogs turning, and from those cogs come your greatest work. Your work with the Blades, your work with me-" Instantly she latched on to that curious bit of comment. "What work with you?", she had never interacted with this man before to any large extent. "Both proffessional and personal." "Personal?" Lokhir raised a hand to his mask and rubbed his face through the material as if it pained him. "All masterpieces have a starting point." Satsified with his response Arrow keyed herself down, catching the scent of burned and bleeding flesh. Her nostrils flared while they walked to catch the smell of the charred skin and her head tilted curiously. From the corner of her eye she watched the shifting cloth that kept his physical features from her and saw specs of fluid leaking onto the material from the inside out. The second she opened her mouth and commented on that Lokhir tensed, his whole demeanor shifting on the defense and brushing her off. Her brows furrowed together from the strangeness of his actions when he paused and glared at her meaningfully. He took a few steps away and raised the cloth with his back toward her to preform rudmentary first aid upon his wound. Arrow came up behind him, reaching to aid his ineffective ministrations while the scent of burned flesh permeated her nose. Like a feral dog he turned on her when she got close, snarling at her and ripping the mask from his face. Being honest with herself she hadnt been sure the rogue even had a face considering all the efort he went to to keep it concealed. One half of his visage was melted away while the other half seemed to have been sheared in half by some heavy two-handed weapon. His intent to shock her away by the hideousness of his wounds didnt work, her hands slid into her pockets and drew out the tools of her trade. A writhing mass of silver leaf in one hand and an earthenware jar in the other. Panic filled his eyes as she neared and he turned and ran from her. Baffled by this display her Druidic enery reached out before her and called the roots in the earth to latch onto the flailing rogue. As he tumbled to the ground, struggling against his bonds Arrow knelt at his side. Putting aside all personal feelings she avoided his snarling teeth and started shaping the top of his disfigured face. The hand with the silver leaf became wrapped with the sharp fronds, sterile knives that moved accurately with her fingers. Fear screamed out from his eyes when the shifting metal of her digits reached his ears, he fainted. Arrow blinked in surprise but continued slicing open the pus filled wounds that had been torn away by fire. Once she was through and the ground mask of mud based ointment cemented to what remained of his facial muscles she sent away her roots and considered the unconcious Rogue. With a mental shuffle she decided to take him with her to Dun'Morogh and the safe house she recalled was there.

Dun'Morogh was bitterly dry this time of year, cold snatching whatever warmth her bare skin presented to the air. Shivering the cold from her limbs Arrow shut the door firmly to the howling wind. In the nature of many dwarven homes sh descended into the main room of the structure. On the fire was a cast iron pot that simmered with a thickening stew created from what staple she had salvaged from Lokhir's own supplies. Sourdough bread she had picked up from Ironforge was ready to be toasted near the fireplace. The sleeping rogue took up the bed in one corner, laying under a bear pelt in naught but a loincloth. She removed the mud mask from him carefully to see smooth skin, fefined features. His armor had been throughly inspected before being removed and piled neatly on the floor near his feet. She sat herself down into the chair near the cooking food and started lacing incense smudges from died herbs in her pockets. She used the free time to consider her options with more detail. In a little more than two hours the stew was done and she set the table in one alcove of the basement home. Arrow hummed to herself simple tunes from both human and elven sagas, clearing her thoughts. One of the smudges was sacrificed to the embers still glowing in the pit, hickory bark and morning glory. She hesitated to do so as the effects of the second herb revived ones' energy. The poker in her hand stabbed at the incense and set the dried plants alight and promptly seeped through the room. The effects of the herb woke the man behind her, hitching his breath when he became more alert. Her humming turned on a different note as Lokhir's eyes moved over the back he was faced with, taking on a physical pressure. "If you keep prodding that thing is never going to burn the right way." His voice worked around the syllables of her native language, Darnassian. One long ear twitched from familiar words in a not so familiar mouth as she laid the poker down on the hearth. "It's nice here"