Out on the open sea, the great wooden hull cuts steadily through black water. When night falls, the moon spills a silver ribbon across the rolling swells. Every wave catches the light and breaks it into soft, drifting sparks. Leaning on the damp rail, Reyneese watches the water glide past. For the first time since leaving Teldrassil, the quiet feels graceful—peaceful enough to steady her racing thoughts.
Then Stormwind Harbor rises out of the morning mist, and everything turns huge.
The Vast Plaza #
Towering stone seawalls, creaking cranes, and wide flagstone plazas stretch out farther than any forest trail she has ever walked. The sheer, open space of the human port makes her feel small, and the distance to the city gates looks endless.
She sets a brisk pace up the long stone ramp, already panting under the weight of her pack. She wants to break into a run just to clear the vast plaza faster—but she holds herself back. Her loose priestess robe billows around her knees and offers zero support. Every hurried, jarring step hurts, tugging awkwardly against her chest and shoulders. She is dressed for quiet temple floors, not a sprint.
Stitches for the Road #
Thank Elune she had picked up basic tailoring in Darnassus before boarding the ship. Beneath the heavy outer cloth, at least she stitched herself a snug white inner shirt to keep things in place.
Adjusting her collar as she weaves through the noisy harbor crowd, a practical thought sparks in her mind. If the human world is going to be this massive, robes won’t cut it. She is going to need sharper sewing and better pattern design—something fitted, agile, and built for real movement.
Tea, tailoring and tales from Azeroth.
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