Into Silvermoon

Stepping through the Shepherd's Gate for the first time in seven years, Eireannan was surprised by the decadent opulence of the city.

Oh, Silvermoon had always been astonishing with luxurious buildings, sparkling fountains, and green parks. But now it felt differently, packed with chained crystals filled with magic energies, floating spires and castles and the omnipresent arcane patrollers, ceaselessly roaming the streets.

Yet, behind the impressing facades there appeared to be gloomy, dimly lit interiors...and then there was the scent of fel magic, persisting in the air, Eireannan thought. He could feel it.

People walked around in the crowded avenues, minding their own business, under the inhumanly attentive gaze of the enchanted patrollers.

Eireannan made his way on the Walk of the Elders, and turned left to enter Murder Row. He stopped by one of the buildings and peered inside through the opaque veil that masked the entrance. The scent of fel was almost sickening, he noticed, as a woman came out and brushed by him, closely followed by a succubus.

She wore red robes, her hair neatly tied back with a matching ribbon. A slender, somehow fragile apparition. But the expression of her face and the absent look spoke of blood thistle addiction, as she staggered past him, before stopping dead in her tracks and measuring Eireannan appreciatively.

'Oh, new faces in town" she observed, in a deep, purring voice.Do you want to join us for some fun, sugar?"

The succubus moved forward, loudly snapping her lash on her thigh and stretched out a sharp nailed hand to touch his cheek, then licked her lips provocatively.

'No thanks" Eireannan muttered, pushing the demon away to face her mistress. " Keep your bloody demon on a leash or it'll go back to the Nether, where it belongs."

Now, Sylvanas Windrunner was right, Eireannan thought. Any decent man in his right mind would have laughed his brains out hearing such a statement from a warlock.

So he was a summoner. But he had never thought of his minions otherwise than tools to serve his will. Calling upon them in battle to shield himself was one. Consorting with a succubus was a very different thing and there was a clear line drawn in his head between the two matters.

He strode forward, followed by the long, curious gaze of the woman.

Leaving Murder Row he crossed through the Court of the Sun, towards the Sunfury Spire. There were at least 30 Silvermoon Guards lined on both sides of the entrance, on the stairs that lead into the imposing structure, all displaying the same proud air, expressionless faces and shimmering red armor.

From the middle of the plazza in front of the Spire, Eireannan assessed the view of the sumptuous floating building with a barely hidden contemptuous smile.

What in the Nether was he expecting?

Humility and High Elves had never been close friends, and the war, the passing of the Scourge, had made it even more important, to stress to themselves the place they occupied in the world that changed so much.

Grinning a little, he brushed some imaginary dust from his robes - he had donned his battle gear for the occasion - straightened his back and calmly started to climb the stairs towards the entrance of Sunfury Spire.