World of Warcraft®

Rachel sat at her workbench working on number twelve. She kept very articulate and precise notes, cataloging every detail of her progress. She was ready to let number twelve loose and see what could happen. Rachel thought this out meticulously, should she pick a specific target or let it go on a rampage? This was all just a small matter though.

"You know that it would be illogical to let it loose without a specific goal in mind, why would you consider it?" A glowing ball of energy remarked. "Number three, you of all of us know why our maker had some of us wander without a specific mission. He wanted to see if we could learn and adapt to life on Azeroth. I know that your existence is not very glamorous, but you are vital to this, I would rather you do what you were made for and run a diagnostic on number twelve than give you your body back so you can 'frolic" in Azeroth. You remember, I have a purpose as well and I was made before you."

Rachel sighed. "There is no need to test social interaction again, Eleven proved that even with no knowledge of human nature, she could still thrive. We need to focus on branching out among other races. This is why Twelve emulates a Night Elf." The orb scoffs. "I know your work just as much as you do, I am probably the only one you 'cannot' keep a secret hidden from. The diagnostic is complete and no errors are present in the design. It is a perfect model of a Night Elf and has a shadow of the memories of the Ehco project. Shall I begin the marking process?"

Rachel smiled. "Ah, no, no markings. This actually gave me a wonderful plan. You remember me telling you about the Warden that has given me grief over proxy attacks and the whole Redrum fiasco?" The orb remained motionless though Rachel knew that it could recall anything that she could. "That would be the perfect target! They would ally themselves with one of their own in a heartbeat and would not suspect their own kind to perpetrate such an action against one of the most revered of their race. Wake it up."

The orb flashed and number twelve took her first breath, Rachel leaned over her experiment and said. "The Warden Kyalin Raintree, your target is the Warden Kyalin Raintree." Rachel threw clothes at number twelve and led her to an wormhole that showed Ashenvale on the other side. Rachel beamed with pride as her creation disappeared through the wormhole.

((We'll see where this goes. But I reserve the right to decline from participation at any time.

You should know though that Kyalin has been missing for weeks now. You should also know that I'm not going to make the process of finding her an easy one.))

"Anything?" The green-bearded Night Elf said. "You were her closest friend, you have to know something."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Raintree." Tal'rada mechanically repeated as she had to so many other families. "We've searched for weeks and haven't been able to find a trace of your daughter anywhere. I'm sorry, but we have to turn our attention to other matters... you have my deepest condolences."

"You've given up on her!" Her father stammered. "After everything she's done for you - for all of you! Just like the rest of them!"

"Mind what you say, Mr. Raintree. I may be only a messenger, but we don't tolerate such behavior." Tal'rada forced out, trying to forget the times that she had met Kyalin's family on far better circumstances than this.

The elf shook his head, looking away. "What kind of society turns its back on the people who protect it so willingly? Don't you wonder if you'll be next, Tal? What happens when they all give up on you?"

"Mr. Raintree..."

"I know you're just the messenger, Tal. I don't hold this against you." Mr. Raintree interrupted. "But my daughter devoted her entire life, almost seven-thousand years, to the protection of our people. She's made sacrifices that few sentinels would even consider, and suffered more than most for her duty. The Sentinels owe her more than this..."

The old elf turned around and closed the door slowly. They both knew that Tal'rada would have been within her rights to silence him, just as they both knew that it wouldn't have have done it. Respect over a volume of years had to be considered, and in the end, he was right.

It was almost like her superiors were trying to bury the issue. Dispense of the matter as quickly as possible. It must have been inconvenient, after all, to hunt for one missing person while there is a war for the nation's survival to fight. What was one missing Warden stacked against the wagons of corpses returning from Ashenvale each week?

Tal'rada stepped away from the elder Raintrees' small abode in the Craftsmen's terrace, pausing for a moment to stare at a curious looking owl perched high in the tree whose branches hung over the roof. The bird cocked its head to the side, moving its beak as though it were chewing on something. It remained there for a moment before it took flight, soaring off toward the east.

"Tal'rada!" An old annoyance suddenly called, causing even the veteran sentinel to jump in surprise. Verronia of course, was right there behind her, lugging several books to boot.... was this what it was like to get old?

"Tal'rada, I've been compiling data on small transfers out of the country, there's been a huge jump in..."

"Verronia, I really don't want to..."

The bookkeeper continued, undaunted. "... the number of transfers over the past month, all going to various..."

"Verronia..." Tal'rada cautioned, a bubbling anger brewing quickly as Verronia continued anyway.

"...accounts in major port cities. You know, Stormwind, Booty Bay, Ratchet.... some to Ironforge of course, but my point is..."

"LISTEN! You stupid, thistle-smoking, babbling goblin-reject!" Tal'rada snapped as she whirled around. "I DON'T CARE about your infernal ledgers or whatever 'fascinating' thing you found in some rancid pile of old documents that you've been squirreling away for the past seven years! LEAVE ME ALONE!"