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Zherron materialized in Nighthaven, leaning heavily on his father's hammer, weakened by the exertions - the attacks from Paden, Chardros and Cyrus, and the power he had expended trying to both subdue Paden in Stormwind and escape from the prison. Though the ice that Cyrus had blasted into him had melted away, the stab wounds were still present - and bleeding. Looking up, one of the Cenarion druids saw his distress. "Master Zherron?"

"Amen...dera...call for Packleader...Amendera..." Zherron staggered and pitched onto the floor.

----

Zherron awoke eight hours later, his body in agony. Bathing his brow, in her human form (to give gentle touches) was Amendera Kynes, the current Shadowhowl Packleader, and his...what was she to him? My daughter, of a sort, he decided. He had adopted many of the young ones as his children - and this one closest of all. "Where..."

"We're still in Nighthaven, Eidan. Master Loganaar sent word to Hearthglen; I've been there working against the Forsaken in Andorhal. Not much luck."

"The...Ocheliad? What of the Ocheliad?"

Amendera started. "The Ocheliad? They did this to you?"

Zherron nodded. "Gentyl...she and the Presidium decided to take a hit out on an Ocheliad. Paden...one of Imperon's lieutenants. I've seen him before. But...Imperon tracked us down. Him, and Cyrus, and...this damn rogue." There was a light bandage at the juncture between neck and shoulder, and a pad where Chardros had "poked" him, piercing his skin slightly. "They had us...right where they wanted us. But I let off a few biting remarks...to bruise their egos." He chuckled a bit, then went into coughing.

"Easy," Amendera soothed him. "You won't be running off to fight any wars any time soon, Eidan."

"No, indeed." Zherron's jaw clenched. "Genevra...first she puts me into danger...I had to flee into Hell itself to escape her. Now...it's Gentyl. A new 'ally' of the Conclave. Genevra, Gentyl. Light-spouting idiots. Damned zealots..." He coughed some more, spitting blood-flecked phlegm into a cloth. "I am sick of being used in other people's wars. I didn't even know what exactly she planned. Taelanas told me of his comrade, but to make war on the Ocheliad...to kidnap an officer!" He shook his head, moving into an elevated position on the bed so he could breathe. Paden had nearly squeezed the life out of him. "Foolish!"

"You could have refused," Amendera pointed out.

"Yes...but as a member of the Conclave, as an 'ally' of these idiot zealots, I felt...compelled to aid them. Perhaps...it's the Gilnean stubbornness in me, or the hatred I felt for them. And for Cyrus." He looked sad. "Cyrus...he thinks himself powerful. He thinks he is a master...but he is being mastered. And he doesn't see it."

"Mastered by who? Imperon?"

"No. He serves the Showdahs willingly. But...you know of the weapon. All the horror stories." At Amendera's nod, he said, "That is the master here. I saw it, and felt its evil...not even Imperon could master that. And Cyrus...he is blind. He cannot see what it is doing. I hated and feared him...and in a way I admired him, his strength, his power - dark nature aside. But...seeing him, so twisted from within...I could not help but pity him."

"Pity? Cyrus?" Amendera was incredulous.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Zherron chuckled. "I would not have given him the time of day a week ago - I didn't want to have to deal with him or any of his kind. But the Cyrus I met and...had some spirited debates with was so drastically different from the Cyrus I saw in the underground. That was no man...that was truly a monster." He sighed. "The weapon...much as Frostmourne corrupted Arthas, so has this thing corrupted Cyrus. The darkness within their souls led them to their weapons, and the blades fed upon their weaknesses, twisting their minds. There may come a time...where he may even turn on Imperon. And none of them see it. Neither Cyrus, nor his lord, nor his comrades. If 'comrades' they are anymore."

"What will you do?"

"What will I do, child?" Zherron smiled sadly. "First, I need to heal...and then I will remain here, or at Nordrassil, and meditate. And then...I will try and find a way to stay out of this growing war between the Ocheliad and the Presidium. A twisted part of me hopes the Ocheliad wins. Gentyl...she can burn in her own righteous fire for all I care. I wash my hands of the matter. If the Ocheliad intended this," he gestured to himself, "to be a lesson to leave well enough alone, it has been learnt."

(cont'd)

To his relief, Amendera was nodding. "You have often warned me about them, about showing proper respect to them, not getting in their way...but you also told me to honor our friends. If they conflicted, you would have to choose which one was more important. You chose the alliance with the Presidium."

Zherron gazed at her sadly. "And this is the result. I know not what happened to the others - Taelanas told me to escape. They could all be dead...I say again, let them burn in their own righteous fire."

"Eidan..."

He raised a hand to silence her. "It's...I'm angered by the fact that I was pulled into what was essentially the opening move of a war within the Alliance. Fighting amongst our own people...it violates every tenet of the Balance, and listening to Gentyl and Taelanas talk, I should have recognized their plan. It reeked of vengeance, an eye for an eye...and doesn't that violate some fundamental part of a paladin's code?" He winced as he moved slightly. "No...I cannot be part of this any further. My part...is done."

"You realize the Ocheliad may want you dead for this," Amendera pointed out. "And if you turn on Gentyl, the Presidium might want your head too."

"Then at least I will die a free man, instead of being a slave to evil powers...or to vengeance."

Amendera rubbed the sides of her head tiredly, feeling the onset of a migraine. Between Zherron being...well, Zherron, and proceeding to destroy both his reputation and that of people associated with him - her, most of all - and worrying about the good paladins of the Presidium dying to Ocheliad treachery, plus the responsibility that Zherron had put on her shoulders...it was enough to drive one mad.

But Amendera was still Gilnean. That meant she would endure.

Zherron had made it pretty clear that she was the Packleader now, and that he would not come back. He had abandoned them. And right now, she had a bone to pick with her supposed "scout", Liam Branscombe. He was supposed to keep Zherron in his sight, not let him act like a complete idiot in public. While seated in the Recluse, she sent word for him to come.

"You rang?" The white-furred worgen assassin stood next to her table. Amendera nodded curtly for him to sit.

"I want to ask you a question, Liam, and answer me honestly: Who do you work for?"

Branscombe looked baffled. "I dunno what --"

Amendera's sword was in her hand - and the Rage took hold, and her body assumed its true form. Her sword-tip touched the rogue's throat. "Don't try to screw with me, Liam, or I'll kill you stone dead. I asked you a question: WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?"

"I work...for my Packleader," he gulped over the swordpoint.

"And who do you consider your Packleader, hmm? You let Eidan out of your sight - he managed to get out of Moonglade without any warning from you, or from the Circle. Not only did he specifically express wanting members of the Pia Presidium dead, he also decided to make a complete fool himself in front of Taelanas. And that would not have happened if he had not been allowed to escape. How did he, by the way?"

"He's a crazy SOB, boss...he gave me the slip --"

"Oh? I thought you were good at your job, Liam. Or did you lie to me?"

"N-no! I tried, I swear --"

Amendera's sword dug into Branscombe's neck. "You didn't do a very good job. Now I have to find a way to repair things. Eidan may well have just screwed our reputation, and if Taelanas ends up killing him, Light only knows what Genevra will do. You want me to have to deal with her 'crazy shadow priestess' mode again? That was not pleasant to watch the first time. I don't ever want to see that again." She lowered her blade. "Now get out of my sight, before I change my mind about letting you keep your head."

Branscombe nodded quickly and made his way out. Amendera sighed as she sheathed her blade and returned to her "safe" form. Her headache was not getting any better - and she still had a lot to do.

First, to speak with Taelanas...

To Zherron's lack of surprise, Amendera was waiting for him when he landed in Fuselight.

"Word travels quickly," he said as he left his raven form. "You know what has happened, I take it."

Amendera nodded. "I'm gonna be honest with you, Eidan. The rest of 'em, they took to me just fine, but...I don't think anyone's gonna protest if you come back. Least of all me."

"Not exactly your cup of tea, eh?"

"It came...kinda suddenly."

"Things like that usually do, my dear. However...are you willing to cede the leadership to me? You are absolutely certain?"

"Yes. And the others support my decision. They said they were happy with me, but this was your pack, Eidan. Without you, we wouldn't have been together at all."

"Perhaps. And perhaps...I have done you all a disservice by leaving. One I hope to rectify." Zherron smiled. "For starters, by making you more prepared for the burdens of leadership, so it does not come so surprisingly to you in the future."

"Is that an offer to have me continue as your second...Packleader?"

"Absolutely."

"In that case...yes." Amendera smiled. "What will we do now?"

"For starters, I think Genevra found some lost ones looking for a place among us...perhaps it is time I spoke with them."