“I am starting this journal to write my thoughts. There is a part of me that thinks I am still in the mining caverns, and that this is all some arcane trick. Maybe I have lost my mind. In the event this isn’t some bizarre illusion I wanted to begin archiving my journey in this strange world.

What led me to this predicament? Well it all started when an ancient talking stone convinced me to jump into a mirror…”

• From the journal of Eratus Riverwood

I woke up with a gnawing sensation that this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

I could still smell the forest but now there was the unmistakable scent of smoke. There were voices muttering, incomprehensible and somewhere far behind me.

There was an uncomfortable weight around my neck. It wrapped around and rubbed against my skin like sandpaper. There was also something heavy wrapped around my wrist and ankles. I tried lifting an arm and heard the movement of metal chains.

I opened my eyes, everything was dark, but I could still see to an extent. The weight around my neck turned out be a long wooden block, with my head poking through a hole in the center. I had two sets of metal manacles around my ankles and wrists. I tugged again, and the chain moved until it was taut, at which point it started pulling against me. That was when I noticed more chains linked to each manacle and the corners of the wooden block. The ends were tied around the metal cage that I just realized I was in.

I was facing the forest, which was now just the black outlines of trees. There was light behind me casting shadows ahead. I tried turning in its direction, but the chains pulled me back. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see some wooden structures that looked like narrow wagons, except there were red sails on top, like one expected to see on ships. Several campfires burned in open spaces between the wagons, casting more shadows. I could see images of barrels, drying racks, and moving figures.

“What in the-,” I said.

“Ah the shem is alive!” I heard someone say behind me.

I switched to elvish. “What happened?” I asked. I tried to turn to face the figure, but the wooden block bit into my neck and the chains pulled me back. I tried several times, rattling the chains, and causing the metal bars to creak but they held firm.

“Hah! Lyna told us you were an oddly strong one. She also told us you spoke elvish. I had a hard time beliveving it but I guess she was right on both accounts. Good thing we put all that extra weight over you,” the voice replied.

The fog in my head began to clear. Lyna. That was the name of one of the elves who met me out of the tomb. I had just taken down the brood mother when I fainted. There was something else tugging my torso. I felt my chest with my hands, the chains jingling with the move, and felt a cloth wrap.

“I-I got poisoned. There were three elves there,” I said.

“Oh you definitely did get poisoned. Elora said it was a miracle that you are alive. I think it’s a miracle that you took on a queen spider and not only live but nearly kill it on your own. We were about to leave you for dead, until Merrill started mouthing off. You can thank her for being alive shem,” he said.

Merill? That was the name of one of the elves. The timid one. The Mage.

“Look, I am an Alliance Paladin. There must be some mistake. Why am I locked up?” I asked.

I instinctively tried to channel light energy from my core. However, before the energy reached my hands, the manacles around my wrist began to glow blue and became searing hot. I felt the light energy sputter away.

“Ow!” I yelped. The bands cooled down in an instant once I stopped trying to channel light energy.

“Oops. Forgot Lyna told me you could use magic as well. I should have warned you. Those are lyrium bands, they’ll stop any spell you try to cast. I wouldn’t keep trying either unless you want to give yourself a nice burn. I doubt Elora would be willing to make a second trip here. She doesn’t like your kind much,” the voice said.

A second fire flickered into being and I saw shadow of the elf to the side of my cage. The shadow got larger until I saw the actual figure. He was holding a bowl in one hand full of gray goop and a torch in the other. He wore the same primitive leather garb the others had on.

“And for why you’re locked up. Well we’re still trying to decide. Well, until the Keepers decide. Who knows? I rarely ever pay any attention to shem affairs,” he said.

“Shem?” I asked.

“You know elvish and you don’t know what shem is?” he replied.

Never have I ever heard the word shem used in any context before meeting these elves. “No,” I replied.

“Well it stands for quickened children. It’s your kind. Humans,” he said.

I made a mental note of that. I decided to shift tactics. Maybe being polite would give me more headway.

“Well I’m glad I learned a new thing today,” I said with a light smile. “My name is Eratus Riverwood. What would yours be my good friend?”

The elf regarded me with a raised eye. “Cammen, Dalish hunter,” he replied in kind.

“I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. You see, I think If I had the chance to speak with your ‘Keepers’ I should be able to explain my circumstances and we can all get behind this as some big misunderstanding,” I said.

He put the bowl on the side of the cage, next to what looked like a small gap through the metal poles. Then he learned over with a questioning gaze. “Well, I have ears and I can probably pass on the message. Go on. Explain away,” he said.

“So you see… ,” I started. I hadn’t fully thought through what I was going to say to the Keepers. The entire stream of events that led me to this moment was pretty absurd.

The elf stood there, a skeptical look on his face.

“So, there was an ancient stone…” I couldn’t come up with a word for machine or automaton or whatever I would use to describe the being. “an ancient Lorekeeping spirit inside a stone disc that convinced me to jump into a portal.”

Speaking of the Lorekeeper I haven’t heard him say anything. I wondered what happened to it.

“Wait. You mean that rock you were carrying around?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

There was a pause.

“You’re a funny one. I’ve heard some tales that start pretty tall but that was by far the tallest one I’ve heard yet. Well, I’m only supposed to deliver you dinner,” he said and pointed to the bowl. “Bucket on the left is in case you need to shite or piss. I’m going to go to bed down. Stay safe out here!,” he said then walked away.

“Wait. I haven’t done anything wrong! You can’t keep me caged out here!” I pleaded.

“Hah! Bold of you to say that after you broke into an elven tomb, destroyed an eluvian, and left vomit on the floor. That was a mess that yours truly had to clean up as well. Enjoy your dinner shem!” he chuckled and left.

I was now alone.

A cold feeling trickled up my spine. It settled in up to my head and radiated into heat. It wasn’t light energy. Light energy would have a calming and soothing effect, and with the lyrium bands, whatever lyrium was, I wasn’t able to call it.

No, this was something more primal. Most of the time I was able to repress it. However, maybe it was the number of times I nearly died today. Maybe it was the result of saving the lives of three elves and being stripped of my weapons and locked up in a cage outside. Maybe I was just tired. The anger and rage began to bubble up.

However, there was a part of me that recognized the danger, and before I did something really stupid, I took a deep breath then exhaled then again. With each motion I imagined the anger fuming out. It was a technique taught during devotion training.

When I felt my head start to clear, my stomach growled. I reached down and brought up the bowl that the elf left behind. I gave the goop inside the bowl a sniff. It smelled like cooked grass.

I placed the bowl on my lip and slowly poured the gruelled mixture into my mouth. It tasted bitter and about as well as I expected but I continued to swallow. I upended the entire bowl until I swallowed every last drop. The horrible taste remained but at least my stomach was full.

I put the bowl down, and at that precise moment something swooped down from the air and perched itself in front of my cage. It was the owl from earlier, or at the least the same kind. The bird had the same horns and bright yellow eyes that almost seemed to glow with the candlelight. It looked at me curiously.

“What,” I muttered.

The bird didn’t respond, instead pecking the wood under it like a cackle before flying off into the night, leaving me alone.

I was clapped in chains by a crazy band of nomadic elves in the middle of who-knows-where. There was nothing left to think about. I laid down, in the most comfortable position I could find with manacles on my limbs and a wooden block around my neck.

The elves were looking to keep my alive… for now. I just needed to figure out a way to convince them to let me leave and find my way to an Alliance outpost. Sleep overtook me and I dreamt that night of Northshire.

***************

The following days passed by in a routine. Cammen would deliver breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the form of a bowl of cooked grass soup as I called it. He would also clean out my piss and shit bucket. Each time I would ask him about my situation, and each time he would shrug and say no decision was made yet. We kept this for several days, enough that I could feel my moustache and beard grow out and I could no longer smell my own stench.

A few times I tried to get someone’s attention but nobody did. Later I resolved to just eavesdropping. The few topics I overheard were mostly about hunting or fishing or some community event. Where the best game could be found, when the next festival would be, how the stockpiles of food looked, and so on. Subjects I never imagined most elves would have been interested in. The Dalish were an odd folk.

Occasionally I saw pairs of hunters go out into the trees and return with deer, squirrels, and other game. My stomach would occasionally growl at the sight. It was filling but I could have used something other than cooked grass soup.

I wondered if the ones known as Tamlen, Lyna, or Merrill were among them. I didn’t recognize them among the hunters I saw. This was one light-be-damned way of showing hospitality to someone who saved their lives.

I tested out my restraints and the cage. The cage itself was sturdy and it was on some type of wagon similar to the ones I got a glance at. There were weights tied to the manacles, so even if I somehow tore it free, I would be slowed down enough for the elves to catch up. I thought up of ways to escape through the day until I fell asleep.

Then something happened one evening.

“Psst,” I heard. I opened my eyes, I was tired but I wasn’t asleep.

“Who is there,” I asked and looked around. It was a full moon so I was able to see. All the fires with the exception of some sentry lights were out. Everybody, with the exception of what I assumed would be a guard, was probably fast asleep.

“Not so loud! I’m not supposed to be here. Look to your right!” I heard the feminine voice whisper.

I looked in that direction. An elf walked out of the brush. She wore a familiar garb consisting of a leather jerkin, leather boots, and cloth shoulderpads. She had a wooden staff behind her back, one end gnarled into a swirl.

I recognized the tattoos on her face. She was the mage that I saved from the spiders.

“You’re Merrill… right?” I asked.

“Oh! You recognized my name!” she squeaked.

“Well, your names have been on my mind for quite some time now. I like remembering the names of those I save. Especially if lock me up in a cage afterwards,” I bristled. The anger was seeping out. Breathe in. Breathe out. This was a chance to learn more and gain some favors to escape.

“Oh sorry. Believe me, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I am really sorry,” she stuttered.

“I’ve been stuck out here for light-knows however many days. Have your Keepers come to a decision on what they are going to do with me?” I asked. Besides the sarcastic edge to the question, I actually did want to know what was going on.

“No… Sorry, the two Keepers. Zathrian and Maretheri are still deciding. Its just they are really busy. We came here to talk about other things when you just appeared. I only know because I am the Keeper’s charge. Maretheri’s charge,” she said.

“Well do you know when they are going to make a decision? I can tell you the Alliance is not going to be pleased when they find out how one of their paladins have been treated,” I said.

“Sorry, I don’t know,” she replied. I sighed. She knew as much about my current situation as Lorekeeper Deldarron knew any actual lore.

“But this was the second time you mentioned this Alliance? What is that?” she asked.

“The Alliance? You don’t know the Alliance? The union of humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes that fought against the Horde years ago?” I replied.

“Really? Sorry. This is my first-time hearing of this before. I’ve always known most of the races to keep to themselves. I’ve never heard of a gnome either. Also never heard of them coming together for well anything. Unless you count the blights, but the last one was 400 years ago,” she said.

Where was I that I was with elves that never heard of the Alliance before?

“Nevermind. It is a real thing though. I’m an officer, Knight-Lieutenant in its service. Anyhow, why are you out here talking to the prisoner?” I asked.

She fidgeted. “Well… the Keepers yelled at the three of us afterwards and forbid us from talking to you in any way. Lyna and Tamlen didn’t seem to mind. I couldn’t help it though. Sorry. I’m just really curious. You are just very different from every other shem I met. You saved my life and you can use magic as well! I saw that shield-spell you cast on me earlier. Is everyone in your Alliance able to do that?”

“You mean light-energy? Yea, a lot of us can do this. I want to say a good quarter of the Alliance consists of paladins and priests like myself. Half the lot are rogues, hunters, and warriors. The other quarter are mages. I’d say half of those are elves and half are humans,” I replied.

“You have elven mages?” she asked.

“Yes. One of my friends is one,” I replied.

“Oh, that is neat! Is he Dalish?” she asked.

“I er… no,” I replied. Alamere would kill himself before he got caught wearing something made of leather.

“Aw… That is such a shame. I would love to meet someone like him. A Dalish elf who fought with humans,” she said.

I thought about it for a moment. Merrill seemed exactly like the students Alamere talked about back in the floating city of Dalaran. He used to be a teacher up there, and he always reminisced teaching inquisitive young minds the splendors and intricacies of arcane magic.

“I think you would get along with him very well,” I replied.

“Well it was fun talking to you! Sorry again for getting you locked up. I have to go though, can’t be gone for too long. Otherwise Lyna will start getting suspicious. She is so overprotective,” she said then disappeared into the brush.

Merrill stopped by again and we had brief conversations over the following nights. She asked me questions about myself. She listened as I talked about my past, and about my friends. I talked about Alamere the mage, Bluebeard the hunter, Captain Falmore the warrior, and Singlepipe the engineer/rogue/gnome. In return she answered my questions about the Dalish and their peculiar customs. It was good to talk to someone after several days of silence. Before she came, I was actually starting to miss Lorekeeper Deldarron’s monotone voice.

She told me the reason why Lyna and Tamlen were so combative during our initial meeting. Lyna had lost her parents to human raiders. Tamlen had no history, but grew up with her and saw how lonely she was without parents. Keeper Maretheri did her best to be a substitute parent but was busy running the day-to-day affairs of the camp.

It reminded me of my own childhood, so I understood. The humans did to her what the orcs did to my own family. Although I was confused as to why the elves didn’t do anything about it. Any transgression against an elf by any human was typically met with swift reprisals.

“Why didn’t your clan pursue recompensation?” I asked.

“Well, I’m not so sure. I think it happened in Ferelden at the time,” she replied. “It also happened 15 years ago, so who knows.”

15 years ago? That would make Lyna fifteen. Elves did not age that quickly. Then the thought kicked in.

“Not to be rude but how old are you?” I asked Merrill.

“I’m 15 years old now,” she replied.

Everything started to come together, and it answered several lingering questions. Like why I couldn’t recognize any of the trees or why there were no peaceblossoms or any familiar herbs in the forest for that matter. Why the architecture of the tomb that I was in seemed so off-putting. Why the elves wore outfits from materials more suited for dwarves or why nobody seemed to know what the Alliance was.

I had a feeling that the portal had taken me a bit further than the Eversong Woods. Maybe further, like another continent, or through the twisting nether and to another world.

“Are you okay? You’re looking off into the distance,” she asked.

“Oh… No, I’m fine,” I lied. Questions raced through my head. If this wasn’t Azeroth, how was I going to get home? Lorekeeper Deldarron was nowhere, and the portal I came through was destroyed. Was I ever going to see Northshire again?

“Well I need to get going. I’ll see you again tomorrow!” she said and disappeared.

*******

Cammen stopped by the next morning with news. There was something different about the elf. He seemed… joyous?

“So it looks like the Keepers have come to a decision after all,” he said.

“Really?” I replied. I was still trying to process the fact that I may not be on Azeroth.

“Zathrian and Maratheri have decided to leave your hands to human justice. We just made contact with a local group of templars. We will be delivering you to them the following morning,” he said.

“Oh… ,” I replied.

“Oh come on. There needs to be more excitement than that! You should be excited, as am I. No longer have to be stuck with this lousy errand,” he said then left the bowl at its usual spot before dancing away.

Merrill didn’t return that evening. I guessed she got caught or was preoccupied with other business.

The next morning there was no breakfast. Instead five dalish elves led two large animals with horns and latched them onto the wagon that held my cage. They didn’t speak to me.

We left for the forest, to where my future lay.