Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Saturna's Patience

Striding down the familiar path from the teleportation point, Sintas straightened up the stack of papers. She wrapped the cloth around them again, tying the string attached to the cloth, and nodded to herself, content that the papers were presentable.
Rabine Saturna drummed his fingers on the railing of the meeting hall in Nighthaven, looking out over Lake Elune'ara with a grim expression. His thoughts rested upon the returning highborn of Eldre’thalas, those who were among the caste responsible for the Sundering. To think they hoped to be welcomed back into society… He wasn’t fond of it, especially after the corruption of the Fruit of Fertility in their very city. The sound of light footsteps crept into his consciousness, bringing him back to the present setting. He turned, standing up straight. Sintas bowed respectfully.
"Rabine."
Saturna nodded. "Greetings, Greenkeeper. We have a report to discuss, I presume?"
Sintas smiled, nodding. She held out the cloth-wrapped report to him, grateful for his kind demeanor after dealing with Fandral.
"Yes, it's the most recent report of Outland for your consideration. A letter from Ysiel is enclosed as well."
Saturna smiled. "Good, good. How is the Expedition doing out there?"
"Surviving, thriving now that many threats have been eliminated. There are pockets of naga here and there, but nothing they can't handle."
Another nod from Saturna. "Glad to hear good news." He began untying the report's bindings. "I'll read through this, contact who I need to. I don't want to keep you long. I'm sure the Archdruid keeps you busy."
Sintas frowned. "Actually, he didn't seem to have another assignment lined up, as he usually does. He simply said to come meet with him after I finished speaking with you."
Saturna raised a brow. "That seems a bit uncharacteristic of him. But perhaps it's important. If that's the case, you should return to him immediately."
Sintas nodded, stepping over to the railing. "Thank you for your time, sir."
Calling on the spirit of the storm crow, Sintas grew feathers as her armor and staff melded to her body. She shrank slightly, arms elongating and legs shortening as her body transformed fully into the dark grey form of a storm crow. She preened a couple of her feathers, then leapt from the railing, gliding low above the lake. Beating her wings, she climbed into the air, circling a few times as she ascended above the lake. Her sharp eyes set on the giant tree to the west, the rest of her form following her gaze, gliding through the cool air.

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