Good Intentions

While spending time in Orgrimmar with Lyreth and the "Roots of the Valley" -- as I have come to call the group of people that gather beneath the large tree near the Wyvern's Tail -- Rory and Jeff Marrowfever came to me asking for a druid. To grow an orange tree, it seemed, so that Jeff might gift it to his 'hot pandaren boyfriend' for their Day of Life. While I could not think of one to help them after they departed one happened to land practically right next to us. He introduced himself as Wakiachakh Misthoof, a Dreamweaver.
 
Wakiachakh instructed me that in order to grow this tree in Silverpine where Jeff desired it, one would need to bring him some soil from either the Emerald Dream or from Nordrassil in Mount Hyjal. Considering Mount Hyjal was much closer and far more easily accessible than the Emerald Dream, that is where I took myself. I did not want Jeff to be disappointed about his beloved's Day of Life. The trip to Hyjal is not far, especially by the portals the shaman keep, so it is there I went. After I arrived, I found the largest root system beneath Nordrassil and gathered my soil sampling from there using my own two hands. As I was gathering it, though, shots rang out.
 
Not just one. The first shot hit my shield as it lay across my back. The second impacted the tree to one side of my head. The third hit the dirt beside me. By then I was on my feet, calling up a divine barrier -- it was faster than trying to unsling my actual shield. The fourth shot ricocheted off that. While I was still even trying to find my attacker, Artimir Autumnsong stepped out of some of the brush to fire off one of his spells to throw the attacker off-balance. Sure enough, the combat medic was as skilled a fighter as he was a healer, for his aim struck true and the attacker tumbled from the root overhead that they occupied. They fell into the moon pool below.
 
Without even hesitating, Artimir was in the water and hauling the attacker back to shore. I worried for him, he did not even think about himself, whether or not the attacker was armed and could stab him or worse. He just... leapt right in. There was naught I could do, swimming was out of the question in full-plate, so I waited until he brought the attacker on shore. It was nothing more than a stripling sin'dorei boy, barely of adult age. Artimir and I might have taken a heavier hand in questioning the boy than was needful, but we needed to be sure he was completely honest in his answers.
 
We learned that the boy had been hired in Booty Bay by a blonde human woman and her child with orders to kill me. What was more disturbing, however, is that the boy merely wanted the money to help his very ill sister who was lying in a sickbed in Tranquillien. Artimir thought he might have some medicine for her malady as the boy described it within his stores for his clinic, we would have to check and see. If not, then he and I were both adamant about traveling into the Ghostlands where the Forsaken alchemist lived that the boy had been getting his extortionist priced medicinals from. We resolved we would follow up on that tomorrow. I needed to get back to Orgrimmar with the soil samples.
 
With the soil brought to the Druid, I was asked to go with them to Silverpine because they would need my Light magic. I took that opportunity to say my farewells to Artimir, since he needed rest after the evening's adventures. As I was doing so, Artimir changed out of his moon pool soaked robes into something dry from his pack. I must say, those laps he runs around Stonebull Lake of a morning do him well.
 
☼
 
In Silverpine, the quest to grow the orange tree for Jeff went as planned -- until it did not. Wakiachakh and I managed to grow a twenty-foot tall orange tree filled with so much Light and Life energy that the bole of the tree held little swirls of each like you see upon the World Tree. However, I had completely forgotten about Elizaveta's Binding and how badly it reacted to such a gross use of Light magic. It sent me to such Dark Places as I never wish to visit again. I said things and thought things that while might have been true once are no longer so. Yet, can I really say that when I spoke them? Do these doubts, these dark wants, still exist in me somewhere? It is neither here nor there.
 
Jeff managed to fetch Rory and all of us ended up going to the Shady Sanctuary where Wakiachakh was able to garner enough Life energy to revive me, but on the same token, it -- Did Something to Rory. It made him vanish. At first, I thought he died, but after listening to Wakiachakh chastise me and then tell me that Rory had simply vanished it made me start to wonder if Elizaveta was not capable of teleporting him somehow, without making it obvious. It was not until later that I saw for myself that Rory was alive and well. I owe that druid an apology.
 
☼
 
I returned to Valdrakken, alone. Jeff went to celebrate his beloved's Day of Life at home, Wakiachakh took himself back to Orgrimmar for a drink. I was in little mood for company, so to Valdrakken I went. It is a big city and I did not expect to encounter Sorvitsune there -- much less with Zagosh. The two of them seemed to be arguing and something about Rory getting thrown somewhere. I was enormously relieved, but before I could celebrate that fact I saw the pin denoting Elizaveta's organization pinned to Sorvitsune's chest. All this time, all their harping about not wanting to be involved with the Syndicate -- and here they were just sporting their badge as bold as you please!
 
I ranted at them and I raved -- this night had already gone so many sorts of sideways what was one more hellish twist? I berated them for their want of "protection" from the very organization they feared! They tried to make it about me and my Assailant, but then why did Stairs and Pole bother with Rory? I did not get far in my arguments, however, I felt the pin-prick in my neck and the tranquilizer was swift to work. This seemed a day made for collapsing.
 
I woke in one of the inn rooms in Valdrakken some time later, my injuries tended to, a note telling me quite clearly not to interrupt operations again. Everything was paid for and there were painkillers and medicines left on the bedside table. There was something to be said about being one of Elizaveta's favored pawns. Had it been Rory, no doubt he would have been beaten to a bloody pulp.
 
This night has been ... I do not know what it has been. Nightmarish. Painful. Upsetting on so many different levels.
 
All because I wanted to help Jeff grow an orange tree.
 
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.