Archive for the ‘Paladin’ Category

Kaelinda accompanied Karaelia to the Isle of Quel’Danas. “I should very much like to see this prismatic blade fully restored,” she explained, “and it might help your case with Ranger General Brightwing if a Sin’dorei on pilgrimage is with you. It has been some time since I last visited the Sunwell, since its renewal.”

As they approached the entrance to the Sunwell complex, a warden warned them, “Only those who have the Ranger General’s approval may enter the Sunwell Plateau.”

Kaelinda sighed. “This is the most sacred place known to the Sin’dorei, but it had been long enough since we regained control of the Sunwell that the guard had been relaxed and it had become much easier for pilgrims to gain entrance. Then Garrosh happened, and the guard here got more stringent again to protect against him trying to use the Sunwell for nasty purposes. Did you know that Regent-Lord Theron was thinking about opening talks with Stormwind for the Sin’dorei to rejoin the Alliance? Then there was that terrible incident with the Divine Bell in Darnassus, and the Purge of Dalaran, and now the guard here is tighter than it has ever been except for right after we reclaimed this place.”

Ranger General Brightwing scowled at them. “You would raise the hopes of our people with tales of Quel’Delar? Without proof of the truth of your claims, I see no reason to take you at your word.”

Karaelia unbuckled the scabbarded sword and handed it to him. He examined the hilt, and his demeanor changed.

“Oh, so you are the one with whom Myralion Sunblaze has been working. Well, then. And Magistrix Dawnstrider, I apologize, I did not recognize you at first. Still, I must verify that you are not trying to hoax our people with a cunningly crafted replica.”

“These have been trying times, of late,” Kaelinda acknowledged.

“I know of a way that we can test this sword,” said the Ranger General. “If you know the blade’s history –” he paused, looking at them in a significant sort of way, and they both nodded. Satisfied, he continued, “then you will recall that it was last wielded by Thalorien Dawnseeker in the defense of the Sunwell against the Scourge. He fell in what is now the Dead Scar, buying time for his regiment to make their own preparations. You will find his remains at the southern end of the Dead Scar on this isle. Visit them, and if his spirit gives you its blessing, I will allow you to enter the Sunwell with this blade.”


Karaelia looked out over the blackened, bone-carpeted Dead Scar and wondered how she would find one man’s remains among the debris. Perhaps the sword would give her an indication of when she had found its former master?

She was glad for Kaelinda’s company. The mage quickly prepared a small seeking spell that would search for armor items bearing the sigils of the Dawnseeker family. She sent it out across the Dead Scar, where it zipped back and forth, hovering here and there for a moment or two. At last it hovered in the same spot for several seconds, then exploded in a spray of firework-like sparks.

As Karaelia and Kaelinda approached the spot, both the sword and the armor-clad skeleton lying there began to glow. A ghostly regiment of high elves appeared. Their commander addressed them.

“We must defend the Sunwell from the enemy at all costs. I am ordering you to withdraw to the Sunwell proper to help prepare the defenses. I will make my stand here and buy you as much time as I am able. Use it well and make our prince proud. It has been a great honor to fight beside you in defense of our land and people.”

The ghostly regiment turned and walked northward toward the Sunwell. The commander faced southward, readying himself — and then he noticed Karaelia and Kaelinda.

“You! Strangers!” he said, “You are not my soldiers. Will you stay and stand with me to face the enemy?” When they nodded, he faced southward again and shouted, “Listen well, Scourge defilers! None of you will reach the Sunwell so long as I stand!”

A death knight on a deathcharger approached, proclaiming, “You will fall as your lands and city have before you. My lord will win a great victory here, and none will remember your name!”

Waves of Scourge assaulted the high elf commander, but with Karaelia and Kaelinda’s assistance, they were all destroyed. The ghost turned to them. “I… I wasn’t meant to survive this attack. Why has this happened? Why have you come here?”

His gaze fell upon the hilt of Quel’Delar. “It’s the sword!” he exclaimed, “Quel’Delar! You possess it!”

Astonishment filling his voice, he continued, “I don’t know how, but the blade has chosen you to be its new wielder. Take it with my blessing, and wield it against the Scourge as I once did.” He knelt before Karaelia, then vanished. The glow surrounding the sword and the armored skeleton rapidly faded away.


“You truly do carry Quel’Delar,” said Ranger General Brightwing, when they related to him what had occurred in the Dead Scar. “This is a great day for all of Quel’Thalas and the Sin’dorei. You have my leave to enter the Sunwell and finish the sword’s restoration. The children of Silvermoon have dreamt of this day for years.”

A warden escorted them into the Sunwell Plateau complex, leading them on a separate path from the one the rest of the pilgrims were taking. They soon reached the Sunwell itself.

At the edge of the Sunwell, a group of pilgrims was listening to Lady Liadrin. Karaelia and Kaelinda sat down to listen, too. The pilgrims nearest to them scooted away, instinctively shying from the evil radiated by the saronite in the blade of Quel’Delar.

“My brothers and sisters,” the Blood Knight Matriarch said, “words cannot describe what I felt upon seeing the Sunwell rekindled. In that moment, the Light revealed to me the truth of the terrible things I had done. Our people had walked a dark path, and mine was among the darkest of all.

It is a strength that we Sin’dorei all share. It is a strength we will need to free ourselves of the addiction ravaging our people. It will be the most difficult battle we have ever faced, but our resolve and the power of the Sunwell will sustain us until we have been restored to our greatness.”

The group of pilgrims applauded, then dispersed. Lady Liadrin withdrew from the edge of the Sunwell, following her own challenge to resist renewed addiction, and sat down on a bench. She closed her eyes and appeared to be meditating.

Karaelia knelt at the edge of the Sunwell and carefully immersed Quel’Delar in it. A shower of light burst forth, sparkling and crackling. A gasp, followed by the “ooh” and “ahh” of a crowd at a Midsummer Fire Festival fireworks show, arose from the pilgrims. The blade began to shine with a pure, clean radiance. It almost seemed to be singing with joy.

As Karaelia reached for the hilt, she could no longer feel the sticky sensation of saronite’s evil pulling on her soul. At the same time, the hilt seemed to be pushing her away with little arcs and pulses of light. Karaelia looked around, saw Lady Liadrin, and understood.

Thalorien Dawnseeker had told her that Quel’Delar chose its own wielders. It had chosen her to bring it here, but now that it was restored and purified, it was not hers to continue to bear.

She knelt before Lady Liadrin. “My Lady,” she began, unsure of quite how to say what she meant.

“Yes, young one?” Lady Liadrin opened her eyes, and Karaelia watched her expression change to awe as she looked over Karaelia’s head and saw Quel’Delar glowing in the Sunwell.

“My Lady Liadrin,” Karaelia began again, and now she knew what she should say, “here is Quel’Delar, the prismatic blade gifted by the dragonflights to your people so long ago and lost in the Scourge attack on the Sunwell. I know not why it chose me and my family and friends to recover it, but now that it is restored, there is only one person who has the right to wield it: you. You, the champion of the Light for the Sin’dorei.”

Lady Liadrin rose to her feet, placing a slightly shaking hand on Karaelia’s shoulder. “Am I truly laying my eyes on the weapon of Thalorien Dawnseeker?” she said, in a slightly breathless voice. “This is a wondrous day for all Sin’dorei. Our people, sin’dorei and quel’dorei alike, have dreamt of this for years. Quel’Delar rises again, as the Sin’dorei rise again and again from the ashes of defeat and betrayal!” Liadrin’s voice strengthened as she spoke, and now as she proclaimed these triumphant words, she stepped past Karaelia to the edge of the Sunwell, reached out, and Quel’Delar leapt into her hand. Liadrin held the prismatic blade high above her head, and the cheering of the elves echoed off of the faraway ceiling of the room.

Lady Liadrin lowered Quel’Delar. Wordlessly, Karaelia handed her its scabbard. As she sheathed the blade and buckled it to her side, Liadrin turned to look at Karaelia directly. “Thank you, Tauren — no, I know you, I have seen you working with my Knights. Karaelia. Thank you, Karaelia, for doing this great service for my people. You have done us, and yourself, a great honor. Light — or how do your people say it? An’she? An’she be with you.”


“So,” said Keija, when Karaelia returned to the farmhouse at Halfhill, “where is that sword we made from that battered old hilt that Kam gave you? I thought you went to the Sunwell to cleanse the taint of saronite from it. What happened? Did you drop it all the way in and lose it at the bottom, or something?”

“No,” Karaelia replied quietly, shaking her head. “I didn’t lose it. I gave it to Lady Liadrin. That sword… it choses its own masters, and once I took it there, and cleansed it, my part in its story was done. It was never really meant for me.”

Around the common room of the house, her sisters’ heads nodded. Kamalia looked up from her leatherworking and smiled at Karaelia. “I knew there was a reason why I felt like I ought to give that hilt to you. Well done, little sister, well done.”


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“You want me to help you with what?” Keija sounded bemused, which was reassuring. Since encountering the Shas of Anger, Violence, and Hatred in Kun-Lai, the warrior had struggled to keep her temper under control. “Little sister, I could have forged you a perfectly serviceable new blade for that old hilt any time. All you had to do was ask.”

“Well, I did mean to ask you, but then I got kind of distracted…”

“Don’t we all! Let me have a look at that.”

Karaelia handed the hilt and blade of the broken prismatic sword to Keija, who studied them with an artisan blacksmith’s practiced eye.

“Hmm… These pieces are in surprisingly good condition, for being frozen in ice and banging around in the bottom of your bags for all those years… A dragonforged prismatic blade? Well, I guess I’ve seen enough replicas of Quel’Serrar — some of them better than others, to be sure — floating around… and the Titan techniques I’ve been learning at the Thunder Forge might come in handy… you’re sure those elves are sure we should be using saronite for this project? I never liked working with that stuff, even when I got decently good at it.”


Karaelia tanked, Kaohana healed, and Keija, Kaelinda, and Kregga made sure that things got dead and stayed dead. Kaelinda had come along because of her scholarly interest in the hilt, and Kregga had come because a Death Knight’s skills might be needed when dealing with the remaining minions of the Lich King. They encountered very little resistance, however, as they made their way through the Pit of Saron to the domain of the Lich King’s Forgemaster.

“Watch my back,” Keija warned, “and be patient, now. This will probably take a few hours.”

It did, but she’d said that several times as they were assembling supplies for the expedition, and they were prepared.

Keija muttered and grumbled and sometimes complained very loudly about how much she hated working with saronite and occasionally cursed at the material and the arrangements of the Scourge forge. Partway through, she called Kaelinda over to come help with keeping the enchantments on the blade stable while she manipulated the metal.

The reforging was approaching completion when they all heard the Lich King’s voice in their minds.

What is this noise that awakens me from my slumber? Ah, you have found Lana’thel’s precious sword. You are bold to try to reclaim this prize!

The Lich King began sending waves of minions at them, first ghouls, then other assorted types of undead creatures, then finally bonewyrms. Karaelia, Kregga, and Kaohana held them off while Keija and Kaelinda continued working on the sword.

Finally Keija announced, “It is done!”

Very well, the Lich King rumbled, Take it and begone. The next one who attempts to steal one of my treasures will not be so fortunate.


“You have remade the blade of Quel’Delar in defiance of Blood Queen Lana’thel’s pronouncement!” Magister Sunblaze crowed as they emerged, exhausted, from the Pit of Saron. “Now the blade must be tempered before you can show the complete folly of her words.”

“Well, duh,” Keija grumbled quietly, sounding more surly than Karaelia had heard for a long time, even in Pandaria. “That jagged saronite edge is brittle and will shatter the moment it strikes anything. What do you suggest, oh great Magister?”

“In the Forge of Souls there is a Crucible which should be suitable,” Magister Sunblaze responded, genteely ignoring Keija’s sour tone.

“Hmph,” growled Keija, “I guess that figures, for saronite.”


Karaelia could feel the Lich King at the back of her mind, watching them, but no obstacles were thrown in their way as they fought through the anguished spirits in the Forge of Souls to the Crucible of Souls.

The Crucible — an incongrously brilliantly glowing object in the dark, oppressive halls of Icecrown Citadel — sputtered, flickered, and hissed as Keija plunged the blade into it, pulled it out, hammered at it here and there, and then plunged it in again, several times until she was satisfied with the quality of the edge.

“This is the best work I’ve ever done in saronite,” Keija said at last. “It better be good enough for that elf.”


“This is exquisite!” said Magister Sunblaze admiringly, holding the tempered blade aloft and watching the play of light upon its surface. “But..” his face clouded, “tempering the blade should have restored it. Why hasn’t it worked?”

“I don’t mean physically restored,” he added swiftly, seeing Keija’s face darken and her fists clench, “the physical restoration you have done is perfection itself! I mean, er, magically restored. It feels to me as if it sits quietly in its sheath, little different from a mundane blade.”

“Really?” said Karaelia. “As I carried it back here, after we tempered it, I felt it… pulling on me. It felt almost as if the sword itself possessed a will. You don’t feel that?”

“That’s what you get for remaking it with saronite,” Keija muttered.

“No…” said the Magister slowly, “…I don’t. But if it is pulling on you, as you say… Dare you bring it where it wishes to go?”

“It is not right,” Kaelinda said thoughtfully, “that the sword should be this silent for you,” she nodded toward Magister Sunblaze, ” and yet this insistent for you.” She nodded toward Karaelia. “If we do not take it to its destination, though, we will never learn why. But where is it wanting to go?”

“We are in the Lich King’s citadel, and he called this sword one of his prizes,” Kregga put in. “I say we take it to the Halls of Reflection, to the room where Arthas kept Frostmourne, and see if the lingering resonances of that shattered blade in that room call forth a response from this blade.”

Karaelia took the sword back from Magister Sunblaze and studied how it felt as she hefted it. It seemed to be pulsing with darkness. “Yes,” she agreed, “that does seem to be the direction in which it is pulling me.”


Cautiously, Karaelia and the others approached Sword’s Rest. They were still several yards away when a spectre of Uther Lightbringer appeared.

“Halt!” the spectre commanded, “Do not carry that blade any further! Do you realize what you’ve done?”

In the presence of the shards of Frostmourne, Quel’Delar leapt out of Karaelia’s hands, whirled away, and then turned to attack her!

Reflexively, Karaelia brought her shield around and bashed at the renegade weapon. Her friends unleashed equally reflexive attacks, and the blade clattered to the ground as if it were a person who had been knocked unconscious.

“You have forged this blade from saronite,” the spectre of Uther chided, “the very blood of an Old God. The power of the Lich King calls to this weapon.”

“I told you I thought that using saronite to reforge the blade was a bad idea at the beginning, right?” Keija whispered loudly.

“Each moment you tarry here,” the spectre continued, “Quel’Delar drinks in the evil of this place. There is only one way to cleanse this sword. Make haste to the Sunwell and immerse the blade in its waters.” The spectre faded away.

“The Sunwell!” Kaelinda exclaimed. “How can we know that doing this will not defile the Sunwell again?”


“How can evil take root in such a sword?” Magister Sunblaze gasped, shocked, when they told him what had happened in the Halls of Reflection.

Keija rolled her eyes. “Uther told us, and I was telling you all along, that it was the saronite that did it. We should have taken it to the Thunder Forge and used lightning steel instead.” Her mood seemed to be improving, thankfully.

“I would not have thought it possible if the evidence weren’t here before my eyes,” Magister Sunblaze continued, ignoring Keija. “If the greatest of dragonkind’s creations could be corrupted and turned against them, why not a mere sword?” He shook his head wonderingly.

“I believe Uther is right,” he said decisively. “Trust in Uther’s words when he says that you will not always be able to control the blade while it is subject to the evil of the Lich King’s influence. You must heed his advice quickly, and take Quel’Delar to the Sunwell as quickly as possible. With Regent-Lord Theron in Pandaria, you will need to gain admission from the Ranger General, Halduron Brightwing.”


Note: the appearance of the Lich King in this part of the story is not part of the original questline. It is inspired, rather, by the role of the Lich King in certain Legion Artifact weapon questlines that take place in Icecrown Citadel.

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Karaelia looked over Magister Sunblaze’s shoulder as he leafed through the heavy book.

“Those symbols on the blade seemed familar,” he mused, “and now there’s little wonder why. The wonder is that I didn’t recognize this sooner! This is certainly a dragon blade, gifted to one of the mortal races, but which blade is this, and how did it come to rest in Icecrown?”

(The rest of this part of the story is very image-heavy, being told through screenshots of the event that happens next in the questline, so I have put it behind a cut) (more…)

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Karaelia caught a kite out to the Shado-Pan Garrison, then took the portal to the Isle of Thunder. She found Magister Hathorel discussing a long-term plan for continuing surveillance and suppression of the Mogu and Zandalari Trolls with Regent-Lord Theron, his other advisors, and the Shado-Pan liason, Taoshi. While she waited for the meeting to finish, she occupied herself with the mopping-up effort at the Court of Bones. When she returned to Sunreaver Promontory, Magister Hathorel was available to speak with her. She showed him the hilt and explained that Alexstraza had suggested that she ask him about the whereabouts of a book about the prismatic blades.

“Ah, that was wise of our dear Dragon Queen,” said Hathorel. “Without that book from Krasus, we stand little chance of solving the mystery of this sword or unlocking its power. Unfortunately, last I knew, the book you seek was in the posession of the Silver Covenant,” he sneered, “a fellow by the name of Arcanist Tybalin.”

Hathorel paused for a moment, then continued, looking thoughtful. “What we need is a way to get you into the Silver Enclave… Ah — ” he held up a finger — “I know what you’re thinking. How can you get into the Silver Enclave if you can’t even get into the city? Fortuitously, the solution to the one problem is also the solution to the other. After Lady Proudmoore had her tantrum, there were many citizens of Dalaran who felt uncomfortable with her actions. The most disaffected among them moved out of Dalaran proper and set up an expatriate community in the Kaldorei ruins at Violet Stand, down in Crystalsong Forest.

“One of those who left was the laundryman, Shandy Glossgleam. I’ve helped him serveral times in the past, and he owes me a few favors. He still handles laundry for a wide variety of people in the city, so I suspect that if you visit him at his new establishment, he might find a way to ‘lend’ you a Silver Convenant tabard for a while. Bring it to me, and I will imbue it with an illusion that will take care of the rest.”


Karaelia was neither surprised nor offended when Mr Glossgleam asked her to help him with his current load of laundry in exchange for the loan of the tabard.

Magister Hathorel met her at one of the taverns in “Little Dalaran”.

Hathorel cast a spell on the tabard, then instructed her to put it on, saying, “This enchantment should allow you to slip past the Silver Enclave’s defenses for a short period of time. You should have just enough time to find your way up to the top level of the Silver Enclave and meet with Arcanist Tybalin in his study there, convince him to give you the book, and return to me, here, before it expires.”


Karaelia hadn’t been quite sure what she’d say to Arcanist Tybalin, but when she found him, he seemed to be expecting her… or at least the Silver Covenant messenger whose appearance Hathorel had given her.

“There you are!” Tybalin greeted her, sounding relieved. “I was beginning to think the Sunreavers had intercepted you.”

Karaelia startled, unable to suppress her astonishment.

“Oh,” the Arcanist said, “no-one told you what this urgent assignment was? I’m so sorry. I’ve received word that the Sunreavers have finally gotten a lead on that mysterious object embedded in the ice up by the Tournament grounds — and by following their activities since then, I think I know exactly what that lead is! Many years ago, Krasus entrusted me with one of the last remaining copies of Ancient Dragonforged Blades. Why didn’t I realize that this book could have been related to that mystery sooner? But no matter, here is the book. You must ensure it gets to Caladis Brightspear in Icecrown before the Sunreavers realize what is happening! Travel quickly! The Sunreavers will not waste any time once they realize we have the information they seek.”

Indeed, Karelia thought, doing her best to keep her thoughts from showing on her face, the Sunreavers are two steps ahead of you in this game.


Karelia could feel the enchantment on the tabard beginning to fray as she hurried to the teleport crystal that would take her back down to Little Dalaran. It was still holding, but just barely, when she returned to the tavern.

“We must get this book to Myralion Sunblaze,” said Hathorel. “Will you bring it to him?”

Karaelia assured him that she would and thanked him for his assistance.

“A pleasure,” Hathorel responded, bowing in that Sin’dorei mannerism that Karaelia was never sure whether to interpret as sincere or ironic. “Especially if it helps to keep a powerful artifact out of the hands of the Silver Covenant. Speaking of which, now I must return to my duties keeping the Silver Covenant at bay on the Isle of Thunder…” He incanted a teleportation spell and vanished.

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The scratched and dented hilt had once belonged to an ancient sword. It had lain at the bottom of Karaelia’s bags for so long that she’d almost forgotten that it was there. Now, as she sorted and tidied her posessions in preparation for joining Archmage Khadgar’s assault on the altered Dark Portal, she found herself pondering whether to continue to keep it, or to discard it along with the pile of items she no longer needed.

She felt reluctant to just throw it away because Kamalia had given it to her years ago, in the waning months of the campaign in Northrend, as a sort of Winter Veil gift.
Ronada found this while she was helping to clear the fortifications at the base of Icecrown Citadel, Kamalia had said, but neither she nor I can use this sort of weapon. I sense a lingering whisper of power in it, though it does not feel much like the elements. It feels more like… An’she, perhaps. Your friends, the… what do they call themselves? Sunwalkers? might be able to help you reawaken the power in this weapon and reforge an appropriate blade for it.

But Karaelia had been too shy to show the battered hilt to Aponi Brightmane or Dezco Dawnchaser, and then the Cataclysm had come. The hilt had slipped into the depths of her bags and she had become too involved in many things to think of doing anything with it.

Now, as she weighed the broken weapon in the palm of her hand, really looking at it for what felt like the first time, she observed that the design seemed vaguely elvish — though she was not quite sure whether it was more Kaldorei or Sin’dorei in style.

Karaelia left the farmhouse and rode around the bend of the Halfhill Road to the stead where Kamalia’s Sin’dorei friends lived. As she approached the gate, the copper-haired Mage, Kaelinda, looked up from the Imperial Silkworms she was tending.

“Yes?” she inquired.

Karaelia handed the Mage the ancient hilt and awkwardly explained how she’d gotten it. Kaelinda examined it with an expression of mildly detatched curiosity for a minute or two. Then one eyebrow shot upward and she summoned a book — and then another, and another, and another — from inside her house with a snap of her fingers. The pages fluttered as she flicked through them, muttering inaudibly. Finally, she looked back up at Karaelia.

“You’re a Crusader, aren’t you? You spent how long at the Argent Tournament, even though the place is horridly obsolete, and never once thought to show this to the Sunreavers?”

“I’d kind of forgotten about it,” Karaelia admitted, “and when I did think of it, I wasn’t sure they’d really be all that interested in an old broken sword. I decided that maybe I would just ask Keija to forge a new blade for it, and then Pandaria was discovered and I never got around to doing that, either…”

“My dear, if I am not mistaken, this ‘old broken sword’ is The Reason why the Sunreavers are still up there in that frigid wasteland, enduring Fordring’s absurdities, after all this time since the Lich King was slain. Whether they realize it or not, they have been searching for this very artifact in the detritus of that awful fortress, and hoping that if they didn’t find it themselves, then whomever else might find it would bring it to them — and your sister gave it to you as a Winter Veil present! Tauren!” Kaelinda shook her head.
“Go, now, to the Argent Tournament and show this to Myralion Sunblaze. I assure you that he will be very interested indeed.”


Karaelia donned her Argent Crusade livery and pressed the sigils embroidered near the hem of the tabard to activate the Hearth spell embedded in it.

Myralion Sunblaze was not in the Sunreavers’ pavillion. “He’s down the hill arguing with those Silver Covenant idiots about some thing the Explorer’s League found in the ice”, Girana the Blooded replied when Karaelia inquired. “They can’t seem to get it out of the ice, and they can’t quite figure out what it is, so they’ve been arguing about it every day for years,” Girana added, rolling her eyes. “If you think you can help them solve the mystery, Light help you!”

To Karaelia’s great surprise, Magister Sunblaze did not seem to recognize the hilt.

This came from the citadel?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “What was it doing there? This blade is certainly not of Scourge manufacture.” His tone turned curious and musing as he examined the broken weapon. “There’s no mistaking it – this hilt comes from a powerful, ancient weapon, but which one? I do not recognize these particular markings, but we haven’t hit a dead end yet.” He directed Karaelia to take it to the dragons at Wyrmrest Temple.

When Karaelia arrived at Wyrmrest Temple, she found Alexstrasza and Kalecgos sitting atop the ruined summit in their dragon forms, staring moodily out toward the southern shore, their backs turned to the defiled landscape of the Dragonblight. As she approached, they shifted into their humanoid forms, leaving room for her Argent Hippogryph to land.

“What brings you here, my child?” asked Alexstrasza.

Karaelia handed the Dragon Queen the hilt, and her eyes lit up. “Look at this, Kalec!” she said. “Karaelia may have found the remains of a prismatic blade!”

“Really?” said Kalec, seeming excited. Then he flinched, as if someone had elbowed him in the side, and his tone changed. “Are you certain you should help, er, these mortals” — his eyes shifted to the side and his eyebrows tightened into a minute glare, as if he was saying something different than what someone else wanted him to say — “with this quest?”

Karaelia looked around, wondering who or what was bothering Kalec. She saw a faint shimmer in the air beside him, and her hand went to the pommel of her sword.

“These blades…” Kalec continued, “they were made long ago when things were… different. Our enemies once turned our strongest weapons against us. What makes you think the prismatic blades will be any different?” He relaxed a little, as if the invisible person beside him had also relaxed a bit.

“Mortal champions have long used these weapons to combat evil,” Alexstrasza replied. Her eyes narrowed as she looked just to the side of Kalec. “I see no reason to keep the swords from this honorable champion.”

“There is a book that you may find helpful,” said Alexstrasza. “It was once in the posession of my consort, Korialstraz, also known as Krasus. He had lent it out to a colleague in Dalaran at the time when…” her voice trailed off and her gaze became distant. After a few seconds, she recollected herself. “I believe the book is still in Dalaran, but after recent events there–” again she narrowed her eyes in the direction of Kalec’s side “–I am not sure who might have it. The best person for you to ask would probably be Magister Hathorel. I understand that he is with Regent-Lord Theron in Pandaria at present.”

Karaelia thanked Alexstrasza and Kalec for their help and activated her Hearthstone. As the teleportation spell began to take hold, she saw Jaina Proudmoore appear at Kalec’s side. Karaelia realized that Jaina must have been sitting with the dragons and turned herself invisible as she approached.

“How can you allow this — this Horde to continue to pursue one of the prismatic blades?” Jaina accosted Kalec and Alexstrasza furiously.

But Karaelia did not hear how the dragons responded, because Wyrmrest Temple faded away and her Halfhill farmhouse materialized around her.


I bought a Battered Hilt on the AH near the beginning of Cataclysm. At the time, it was one of the most expensive AH purchases I had ever made. I put it in my bank until I got my Paladin leveled. Even after I got my Paladin leveled, which didn’t happen until mid-Mists, I didn’t do the questline right away.
I finally got around to doing the questline in February of 2015, just before I took my Paladin to Draenor. Thus, I chose to set the story of Karaelia’s experience with Quel’Delar near the end of Mists in the overall timeline. Accounting for the death of Krasus shortly before the Dragon Soul raid and the Purge of Dalaran during the Pandarian campaign necessarily required a certain amount of reworking of the story from how the actual in-game questline goes.
I wrote the first segment of the story around the same time that I did the questline. Then I dawdled over writing up the rest of it until it occurred to me that perhaps I ought to get this story written and posted before doing and writing a story about another major lore questchain.

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Along with leveling a character of each class to the current level cap, one of my long-time WoW goals has been to raid-heal with each of the healing classes. Mists LFR has been an absolutely Golden Age for me in that regard. I have a healer of each class who has completed at least Terrace of Endless Spring from T14, all of Throne of Thunder, and Siege of Orgrimmar through the Sha of Pride.

As proof that I have indeed completed my Mists expansion goal of healing in LFR with each of the healing classes — and before Patch 6.0 wreaks havoc on my action bars and addons, too! — I now present a couture collection featuring that most charming of Siege of Orgrimmar healer loot drops, the Purehearted Cricket Cage.

Waterfall Cricket

Greenweave Mantle, Waterfall Robe, Councillor’s Sash, Replica Virtuous Gloves, Rejuvenating Scepter, Purehearted Cricket Cage
This Kun-Lai Summit quest reward robe matches the tailored Windwool set, which has a tunic chestpiece instead of a robe.

Hoodoo Cricket

Self-Reflecting Mask, Runetotem’s Mantle of Conquest, Jinxed Hoodoo Skin & Kilt, Hurricane Belt, Cenarion Gloves, Miniature Winter Veil Tree, Purehearted Cricket Cage
This outfit is based on Zazzy’s grand-prize-winning final round entry for JD Kenada’s Amazing Transmog Survivor competition. Kerisa already had the shoulders, chestpiece, and kilt of Zazzy’s kit — though as a Druid, she of course could not use the same belt.

Fire-Charm Cricket

Fire-Charm Mantle, Jinxed Hoodoo Skin & Kilt, Serene Yellow Belt, Grips of Slicing Electricity, Ethereum Phase Blade, Purehearted Cricket Cage, Veridian Cloak
A variation on Zazzy’s grand-prize-winning final round entry for JD Kenada’s Amazing Transmog Survivor competition. As a Monk, Koralyra could get the chestpiece, belt, and kilt easily — but she’d have had to farm for the lookalike T9 Druid shoulders, as Zazzy had. Fortunately, the glow of the T15-LFR Monk shoulders matches the Jinxed Hoodoo items just as nicely as the crystals on the T9-Horde Druid shoulders do!

Suncrown Cricket

Bog Pauldrons, Suncrown Hauberk, Myrmidon’s Girdle, Cenarion Reservist’s Legguards*/Green Iron Leggings, Green Iron Gauntlets, Tsunami Boots, Light’s Justice, Purehearted Cricket Cage, Xing-Ho, Breath of Yu’lon
So, yeah, I decided to get the Legendary Cloak for Kamalia’s DPS spec. Hopefully, it’ll make at least the first few levels of 90 to 100 a little easier, considering that I don’t (and won’t) have a Garrosh Heirloom weapon.

Jade Cricket

Jade set with Acid-Etched Pauldrons, Qon’s Flaming Scimitar, and Purehearted Cricket Cage
I put up with the Jade set being platekini because I love its unique coloration so much. I’d be much happier if it looked on my female character the way it looks on male characters, though!

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The April Fools 2014 Warlords 6.0 patch notes inlcuded the following:

HUNTERS — For safety, all Hunters must now wear bright orange vests at all times.

I chuckled, but didn’t think much more about it until WoW Insider’s “Around Azeroth” column featured a guild who’d taken that to heart — at their next raid, they made sure that all the Hunters were wearing orange shirts.
As super-stylish as it was, after a couple of months, Ketura had been feeling rather tired of her Ornate Dragonscale Transmogrification kit. Seeing this picture, an idea for a new Transmogrification kit sprang immediately to mind!

Orange Safety Vest

Replica Beastmaster’s Mantle & Belt, Engraved Breastplate & Gauntlets, Warmonger’s Leggings, Ravager’s Sandals, Amber Filigreed Shirt/Fine Cloth Shirt*, Spare Gunship Cannon
Although the outfit is more orange with the Amber Filigreed Shirt, I prefer the slightly more camouflaged look obtained with the Fine Cloth Shirt — a quest reward from pre-Cataclysm Loch Modan that Ketura obtained when a transporter malfunction turned her into a Dwarf for a couple of weeks a few years ago.

Here are a couple more orange-ish Transmogrification kits I’ve created recently: (more…)

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