Silencing the Shade

We gathered at the base of the Ivory Tower, the full moon casting a luminous glow on the walls and creating eerie shadows upon the ground. For many years, Medivh’s secrets had been locked up tight inside Karazhan, but in the last year, the Kirin Tor mages have succeeded in entering the ancient place to plunder its knowledge. They could not do it alone, however, and they rewarded well those who would venture into the place and rid it of the spirits and ghosts that haunt the hallways.

And that is what brought us together tonight, members of the Order of Veritas, a loose organization of treasure seekers, scholars, and adventurers. Some were here for gold and glory. Others were hoping to prove themselves to the Mages, and not a few of us had hopes of scouring the Guardian’s extensive library for knowledge. But if we were to achieve our hopes, then we would need to battle through the specters. It was known to all that a demonic presence had taken residence at the top of the tower. Images of the tower’s past residents took offense to unwelcomed guests, and even though ghosts they may be, they defended their home with deadly force.

Many of us had been here before. Even when vanquished, the ghosts would find a way to return, causing much frustration to the Kirin Tor who wished to be able to study the building without paying adventurers to continue clearing the threats inside. Tonight was different though. There was a particular ghost that was haunting the section of the library that the mages had long suspected held Medivh’s greatest knowledge. The ghost of Medivh’s father Nielas Aran, who had died many years ago. How he found his way to the tower, no one could say. Even as a shade, he was in torment, and swiftly attacked all who came close the library doors.

After conversing with the mages, we made our way inside and began to make our way up the tower. Our party was made up of priests, paladins, and druids, a rogue, a mage, and even a shaman from the Draenei. I was the lone hunter. Lethan flew next to me, agitated as ever. Feeding him some meat from my pack to cheer him up, we pressed into the tower, eager to get to the library as quickly as possible.

The battles were quick and fierce. We wasted no time in dispatching the ghosts as we made our way through the ballroom and into the opera house. How this tower was able to house these expansive rooms, I cannot say. Perhaps some magic of the Master himself that still lingered on the building. Even in death, rows of ghosts reenacted their lives as they watched a play. The spectral actors however, decidedly disliked our presence on their stage, and we were forced to dispatch them. And their little dog too.

Continuing on through the now dilapidated gallery, we were nearly to our goal. Until now, the Shade of Aran had not been silenced. Some had tried, but they often found themselves nursing wounds and seeking the aid of priests. In life, Aran had been the court conjurer of the King of Stormwind, and a mage of the Kirin Tor, powerful in his own right. It seems he carried his extensive magical abilities with him, even in death.

At long last we approached the door to the inner chamber of the Guardian’s Library. Before even opening it we could hear the Shade ranting about his son and the torment he was in. He only wished for the nightmare to end. I suppose then that we were here to give him his wish.

We made our preparations and discussed the strategy with which we were to silence Aran. When everyone was ready, we burst through the door and spread out around the circular room.

“Who are you? What do you want?! Stay away from me!” yelled the ghost. Unfortunately, we could not do that.

The druids swiftly entered cat form, and along with the rogue, swiftly fell to swiping and cutting at the specter with claws and blades. I sent Lethan in screeching and clawing as I pulled the bow from my back and began swiftly firing arrows. Aran, like a madman began throwing all sorts of magic at us. Firebolts, frostbolts, and missiles of arcane energy flew around the room, slamming with powerful force into their targets. Our healers kept us alive, washing away the burns both hot and cold with the grace of the Light.

Without warning, Aran threw up his arms and screamed, “Burn you hellish fiends!” as wreathes of flame encircled a few of us. Having discussed strategy with past raiders of the tower we knew not to move, fearing the explosion that would occur if we did so. Having safely survived the Flame Wreath, we continued to assault the ghost, who was proving very resilient in the wake of our attack. He continued to bombard us with spells of every sort, even causing the room to fill with a debilitating blizzard. Through careful positioning we were able to avoid the brunt of the storm, but we were fatiguing, and Aran seemed more powerful than ever.

In an instant, the ten of us were sucked into the middle of the room next to Aran, and I felt as though I had blocks of stone tied to my feet as I rushed to get away from the mage. “I am not a simple Jester! I am Nielas Aran!” said the mad ghost. Eager to avoid whatever attack he had planned, I made my way to the edge of the room, but Lethan in his eagerness to kill the shade did not make it out of the explosion that occurred next. He fell to the ground, a crumpled pile of feathers. I rushed to his aid and began to use my abilities to mend him, but it was then that the Shade of Aran set his eyes on me and pummeled me with arcane energy. Soon I lay on the ground next to Lethan. Unable to lift myself up off the floor, I watched as the battle raged on.

Our quick thinking leader, a wise and strong Druid, threw a seed in my direction which landed on my body, sprouting with energy and life. Feeling reinvigorated and infused with the thought of my home in Ashenvale, I was able to rise once more and join the fight. Weakening further, Aran had called on four water elementals to defend him, but they were quickly taken down by our skilled team. I finally found a moment to revive Lethan until the healers took over, once again renewing our vitality.

It was not long before we were victorious, the Shade of Aran’s last exclamation of “At last the nightmare is over…” echoing in my ears. The battle had been long and arduous, but our triumph had paved the way for the Kirin Tor to study the rich works and tomes to be found in this library. I looked around at my fellow adventurers and scholars. Surely the mages would not notice if we took a few of the books back to our Order for study? We probably didn’t even need to ask.