It was the loveliest of cakes that she has set sights upon in a long time, perhaps too long a time. In fact she had not so much as bothered the attention paying of one since the before the twilight of her re-awakening. The mere thought of sugar and spice and all of the other whimsical details that would set a fancy feast such as the one Lady Garielle had given to her-as a wedding gift, held no more appeal then a soggy card board boxed puffed atop with a thick rich sap and colorful sparkles. It wasn’t that Syvbia did not appreciate the time, care or devotion that lady Garielle had taken in delivering to her such a heart felt gift- she did. And Syvbia was concerned enough to handle it with the most utmost care while traveling all the way from the Hillsbrad foothills and on through Silverpine, Logart’s legion seeing to the safty of their return as they went. The cake had arrived safe and sound to their abode. The small wooden peer home that Logart had-had made just for Syvbia and he-that being located somewhere within the mass catacombs of old Lordaeron’s aqueducts. Lady Syvbia had entrusted Garielle in showing her the way.

Syvbia had placed the cake- that ended up somewhat lopsided with a firm handprint against its side- atop of a small Elwynn cherry oak table. Syvbia had tried to carry the prize display with as much care as any forsaken could while abound a quick fleeting steed. When the cake began to topple, she pressed a firm hand unto its side and kept it tight. In the event, the two layer cake shifted at an odd angle and left within its bed of icing, a gloved handprint. It was a small matter; she had turned the cake so that the slant leaned backs towards the corner upon where the table stood beneath a broken canopy of a dusty cobweb.

From the look of the small abode, Logart had not been home several days; everything lay in still just the way they had left it the last time the either of them had spent even the slightest moment together. It was no secret between them –how little time they had to cherish together-Syvbia wouldn’t risk the contract of her love for Logart for any longer then she had to. Even behind the walls of their private cottage that was well hidden within the catacombs of Lordaeron’s aqueducts.

They were after him, every single one of them, hands, eyes, swords and burning embers hidden within the cast of shadows. They couldn’t trust. Syvbia would dare not risk placing Logart in harm’s way- not even for an instance. She would sacrifice. Vordimeer had been right; she had become weakened through the years and had left a vast opening of a longing she thought she had killed away. That of an unaccomplished heart-yes, he had been right and she recalled her words to him so long ago. Emotions were a weakness that she couldn’t afford. The fool hearted whims of the living always lead to undoing. And so between them, for the years that followed, it had been an understanding between them,Vordimeer and she- just who and what they were to each other. But times had changed and what had become between then and now was too much to cover to bother seeking regrets. She did not regret.

The rings that Logart had given her were three. Three rings adorn one finger on her left hand, each different in size and design, but they all fit. She gazed upon them often enough to know that where she stood now-was indeed in truth.

He had come to her on the twilight of their loathsome attack upon Honor Stand within the barrens, broken and battered and humbled. A wreck of a forsaken body that he was had faithfully pledged his devotion and will up to her from bended knee. She had felt the still knot of her heart mimic its plummet and her surprise swooned from the rotting flakes of her lips.

They had wedded themselves that very evening, beneath the flare of dark passions and before the birth of their bloodletting. The promise of ceremony would have to wait and so it did.

The week of Love had come and gone and not once had she set eyes upon her beloved Logart but it was just as well, such a holiday, Syvbia knew would draw out those seeking to target them both in the web of their tenderness. What the fools did not know is that-they seldom for a moment had spent any time-so long desired, together at all. She would not risk the safety of Logart.

Syvbia had since arranged with Garielle their return to Willow’s Junction to calculate the damages. The dark force that had plowed through there nearly the year before would more then likely not be reassessing the site again-but she would. For this accomplishment she would call upon a few of her most loyal of souls- Lady Garielle, Lady Ivygrace and one Orc engineer- Roksingar.

It would take Lady Syvbia a matter of days to reach Tarren Mill, they would all meet there before continuing north to the ruins of the small trade post-Willow’s Junction. She would send word to the orc Roksingar before she departed Tirisfal glades. He would receive the letter in good time, depending his station- they would await his arrival in Hillsbrad.

And alas to allow Logart to know her where about should he return ‘home’ amidst her absence, Syvbia placed down a folded parchment dinged with age. It would do her spirit good to see him once more, a champion riding through the mist to see his beloved, a vision she replayed repetitively through the fog ridden passages of her mind. Logart, her handsome rot riding forth upon a tide of dark thunder with the army of his undeath behind him like a great hand of reckoning.

Syvbia snuffs out the dim light of the make shift cottage and steps out into the cool damp of the aqueducts, all of her ambitions of the year, would begin-now.

---Letter left to Logart at the house---

Logart,

Upon your reading this, I desire for you to know that I am bound for Willow's Junction once again. I shall be in the company of Lady Garielle. I also have called upon the assistance of Lady Ivygrace, who seems to be a promising soul. And lastly I will call upon an engineer, an orc who serves our pride and goes by the name Roksingar.

I estimate my time at Williow's junction to be brief at best -where as I am only there to assess the damages and plan for its awesome reconstruction. Worry not about me, I am in good company and I do not expect your devotions to bring you forth to me. You have enough to balance and where as it is not for me to place anymore burden upon you.

Speaking of burdens, I am uncertain if news has reached you or not-concerning Kormok's own imbecile- the girl Insein- has been charged with trafficking with the living within her very home. Yes!

The girl lives in Ambermill, and I know these accusations to be true. The girl clearly boasted about such activity before the very company of Lady Garielle, Lady Claudia and myself. The girl is not to be trusted, there is no other tells of what shadows she hides-many-Yess !

She is not to be trusted- if at all any rite, she should have been properly disposed of. The girl Insein is a risk and threat to us all. She is a traitor awaiting the sanction of her damned rotted soul and I fear that the price of the forsaken will pave her redemption. I will not lose you that way!

I have heard word that she has been sent to aid the Forsaken Front-more like betray the forsaken front. Betray us all ! Be warned then my beloved, watch her closely-YES CLOSELY!- and should she dare cross the line that she treads so thinly then I will charge you to do what you must- for the will of the Forsaken. Yes, for the will of us all!

Until the shadows grant our next union

Your own- Syvbia Dragonbane