Eveania

Although Esie had been granted wise counsel and training from the Banshee Queen herself, there was no holding her back. The Forsaken had tenitively aligned with the warring Horde nation. Garrosh, their warchief, wanted to rule over many worlds and was more than willing to take them by spilling the blood of their inhabitants. This was a familar train of thought which Esie had experienced before. Lady Sylvanas had expressed the same ruthlessness over Silverpine and Lordredon belonging to the Forsaken.


Sorting out political stuff really isn't Esies' cup of Moonberry juice, at this point she could care less. She does remember from the time she was raisen from death being told she had free will, and could go her own way as she wished. Numerous other feelings and thoughts have come to her over that time since. And though she does not trust Hellscream, much less like him, war and killing pulsates over her bones with a warmth she has taken to. She likes killing, leaving trails of splattered blood in her wake. The Dark Lady and Hellscream apparently rather enjoy killing as well. Between them, Esie has been provided an unlimited supply of targets awaiting death. All seems rather good these days.

It was morning, again. Esie had taken refuge last night in a village called Thunderbluff. The Tauran peoples here were different from the Orcs she had the displeasure of meeting in Orgrimmar several nights back. The Taurans' village was peaceful, untouched by worldly destruction. They welcomed Esie without question, providing her with food and drink. In Org, (as they call it), she was treated as "an instrument of Hellscreams army". Here, she was welcomed as an individual. It was here where Esie learned from the Tauran Shamans, that there was so much more going on in the world other than Hellscreams' war. Last night was filled with conversations so new and disturbing to Esie. Even though, she felt an aura of peace within the village and knew she would be returning often.

After the mornings' raw fish meal and friendly greetings from the Taurans, Esie wandered about the village shops restocking her backpack. Someone had mentioned that the postalcarrier was holding a letter for her. Esie had no family known to her, so could not imagine who would send her mail. True enough, the letter box contained a sealed note with her name scratched across its' front.

The handwriting in the note itself wasn't much better. The signature was a singular name, much like her own. "Eveania." It was the content of the note that took Esie by surprise. Apparently a very young Undead mage practioner claimed to be Esies' sister. She was asking for advice, and quite naturally, some assistance. Sitting down with the note, Esie had some doubts about the sister claim. How could it be so?

Thoughts of visiting the Caretaker for proof wandered about her mind. Esie had traveled her own way to reach this point in her own undeath. Although she saw no reason for anyone else not to be able to do the same, she did feel for this young mage, she knew that the times ahead for her were going to be hard. So, in all this thought, Esie composed a polite note back to this Eveania. She included an extra small pouch she looted yesterday, and a few pieces of gold to travel on. "That should do it," she mumbled. I'll probably never hear from her again anyways.