Nysela

Stepping through the portal, Nysela collapses onto her hand and knees. Forehead pressed to her forearm while the smoke stained locks fell around her features like a curtain. This fight had taken much out of her, blood trickled and oozed from the wounds the shrapnel caused and the slash across her back. Bright cyan eyes glared at the ground, vision blurred by tears that quickly gathered around. Tightening her jaw, she fought the knot that settled heavily on the back or her throat, her lithe and battered frame tensing visibly in the process. Hands clench into fists out of anger and sorrow. Regret was also something that weighed heavily in her h

    Nysela swiftly made her way up into the Eastern Plaguelands, direct orders from Commander Krow to scout the area they once called a home. Rumor had it that the League of Lordaeron hand claimed Tyr's Hand as soon as the Blackstones fell, but that they also shared the land with the Scarlets. A sound of disgust left the Elf's lips with a quiet growl, if only the Argent Dawn knew, they would all be slaughtered or taken in. Silently, the rogue scaled one of the cliffs nearest to the keep and once reaching the top, she kept herself on a low crouch, perching like a vulture while hidden within the shadows.    Shrouded eyes scanned the area for

The Blackstones have fallen, Commander Krow has once again disappeared and once again there was nothing. The thought of this caused a quiet growl to spill from Nysela's lips, resting the back of her head against the wall she leaned her back on.  She had settled herself by the window sil, bright cyan eyes peering up at the moon before wandering across the starry night sky. Surprising enough, Stormwind was rather peaceful during the evening. Laborers retiring for the day, as well as those who worked the shops. The adverstising screams that left the Cathedral also ceased under the dark sky. Good thing too, would be rather rude to be yelling at