Elixer of Nightmare

==Part One==
With a small sigh, Anariell lay against the neck of her pink unarmored hawkstrider Kien’thal. His gait was smooth and steady, gentle bouncing on the dusty streets of Orgrimmar lulling his rider into a light stupor.
Dressed in her fine read robes, white cloak with hood atop her gemmed saddle with numerous odd shaped saddle bags, she was quite the picture riding down the Drag to the Valley of Honor. Few Grunts and merchants called respectful greetings to her as she passed, which she acknowledge by raising her head.
She trusted Kien’thal to see her safely to her apartments and to keep an eye out for hands to near her saddle bags. She contemplated the parchment and vial in her hands, the rhythmic padding of her mounts walk causing the crimson contents of the vial to swirl in a mesmerizing manner. 
Lord Zouche’s letter did not make sense… not much of any sense at least… What exactly did this elixir do? And how would it help with her situation with her grandparents. Dream vision… Would it show her in dreams the reality of what her grandparents would say if she were to tell them of her holy specialization? Or would it merely allow her to live out her reoccurring nightmare in new vivid detail… Perhaps there wouldn’t be a distinction between the two.
Was it really as testable as that… One, drink elixir, two, know the future? Her hands, shroud in black silk with purple stitching convulsed on the letter crinkling the smooth parchment. Clouded thoughts caused her to loose her balance when she dismounted, legs getting caught up in the skirt of her robes. Quick as a cat there were strong blue arms standing her back up. Zeekai was only a young boy by trollish standards, one of the children of the hunter trainers who’s rise was above her apartment, but he was only inches shorter then her with many years and inches in his future.
“Aftanoon priestess.” His voice was light and cheerful, respect evident. Anariell smiled at him, moving her hands to place upon him a Blessing of Kings. Not yet seasoned in adventuring, he was unlikely to realize the difference between the blessing she bestowed and the one that an actual priest would give. After the flip of four silver he was gone again, Kien’thal tottering, seemingly alone towards the stable. Anariell giggled. “Hope that boys parents don’t expect him to become a hunter.” No one was around to hear this save the fishes in the pond and the wind, but she could have sworn she heard a trollish chuckle from the direction Zeekai had gone.
Parting the thin skins that served as her doors, she slipped inside her apartment. The vial and crinkled letter were laid gently on the table as her hands reached up to ease her silk hood to her shoulders and untied the soothsayer’s tribal headband from her forehead. Gloves and shoulder guards were also discarded on the table neatly. Piece by piece she removed her healing gear… both a real identity and true disguise till she stood only in her robes bare feet, blonde hair down in waves around her shoulders.
A breeze passed under her door, carrying with it the now familiar smell of water and heat. Two elfish incense burners were lit on opposite sides of the room wafting the smells of peacebloom and sungrass into the small room and out under the door. With a sigh she collected the vial, settling down on her bed furs and playing with the vial.
How many times had she imagined how her grandparents would react? The nightmare she couldn’t wake from, curling lips, sneers, furrowed brows and the accusation of being weak. Standing in her frail healing cloth, taking blows not even the finest forged plate could withstand.
The vial’s wooden stopper twisted off easily enough, and the red liquid was not sluggish as she tipped the vial down and swallowed it’s contents. Laying down on her furs she panicked briefly, wondering if she would wake… what she would see … when it would take effect, her hands clenched on the furs and loosened suddenly, and she was dreaming.
==Part Two==
Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked them several times. It appeared she was in Orgrimmar still… but everything was green. Varying shades of green with fringes of blue and dark midnight purples streaking in from the doorway. Stepping up, she felt over her arms and face, feeling nothing but skin. Stepping out side her jaw dropped open, whirling around this way and that, as there appeared to be nothing but enormous trees and wildlife everywhere. Panicking she turned to return to her apartment, the only familiarity in such a strange dream, to find it gone.
She stood frozen in the small clearing among the giant trees. There was no sound, no chitter, no chirping… not even growls, snarls or howls… just wind and silence and the rustle of leaves and the slap of water on ground somewhere in the distance. Barefoot and dressed in only robes… no mace… no sword, no armor, she started to investigate the nearest trees. It was as if no one had ever touched this place… these trees, this ground… 
How was this supposed to help her? This foreign place untouched by orcish or elfish hands… She stepped backwards, eyes scanning her surroundings warily again, and as she did she felt as though she were slowly sinking through the air, being pulled into another layer of the wind. 
Dizzy from the motion Anariell closed her eyes, and opened them in slightly different spot… the trees and placement of things were so strange, and she stood by a giant lake instead of a small clearing. Dipping her fingers through the water she gasped as she realized she couldn’t touch or feel anything. Just the breath of wind on her skin, and even that was muted. Sinking down on her knees she closed her eyes again and prayed to go home, and she felt the ground shift beneath her.
Still overcome with the sensation of movement and bleeding through the layers of existences Anariell fell to her knees, palms clenching, trying to catch a hold of the grass below her to stop the movements. But there was no grass, blinking her eyes open she saw the redish stone streets of Silvermoon. Blinking, eyes wide she looked around. It was the normal hustle and bustle of Silvermoon, muted action and diginified elves walking in pristine robes and armor. She made quite the spectical on the ground, messy and barefooted. 
Overcome with embaressment she stood and started sprinting towards the relative safety of her grandparents home. Eyes closed and face burried in her hands, she didn't notice that her closing of the door had drawn her grandmother and grandfather from their reading room. It took the clearing of her grandfather's throat for her to look up. Frozen like a startled deer. She reacted to their looks at her state of dress by standing up, but tucking the hem of her robes underneath her feet and desperately smoothing her hair and trying to clean the dirt off her robes. 
The more movement she made the more of a grimace seemed to develop on her grandparents faces. They stood their for long moments and said nothing, the shadows in the room seemed to swallow their faces, making the room take on a sickly green tint. Darkness swallowed the edges of the room and the two figures infront of her, until it was just their silouettes and the disapproval in their glowing green eyes. The darkness reached her and started pulling at her robes, with each tear the silouettes before her changed and writhed, judgment still heavy in their eyes as their physical forms became grotesque and beastial. Closing her eyes the blackness swallowed her and she couldn't breath.
==Part Three==
Blearliy Anariell's green eyes blinked open. With a hoarse scream she lept out of the bed, a whirlwind of cloth and pale skin, knocking over a makeshift bookshelf, one of her stools and the insense burner that was once full of peacebloom ash as she made her way to the door, feeling calastraphoibic inside the tiny appartment. Whiping open the tarp door she realized her state of half dress and re-entered as swiftly as she had exited. Collapsing on her knees by the door Anariell sat and quivered, shaking with disbelief and terror as she considered the nightmare from the elixer.
'Drink it and see'... now she knew not to drink anything if Zouche said something to that effect prior to ingestion. Quivering with the ammount of noise pressing in on her all around she lay down on the floor and gripped the cloth and stone floor, breathing deeply.
A faint layer of peacebloom ash settled down on the floor, finally finished with it's stirring in the air as all became still inside the appartment again. Anariell just watched the floor. Her own nightmare, that's all the elixer had brought, but... it was magical in nature, perhaps.. that was what in store for her if she told them? Judgement and silent anger? Them becoming strangers to her, like beasts who'd tear her appart? Entire body aching she dragged herself back to her bed furs.
She lay there on her bed furs for long hours, eyes open and seldom blinking replaying the scene with her dream grandparents in her head over and ove again. The midafternoon light drained away from the cracks in her door and night fell, seeing nothing more then a few paces in front of her, Anariell tucked herself in closer, eyes open, heart beating a horrified tattoo against her ribcage. It wasn't until hours later, when the morning light returned to the rim of her doorway that her eyes drifted closed and her mind went numb with sleep.
==In-game and Lore References==
I feel I should make explainations for parts of this story as how I interpreted lore to create this piece.
----
One could say that Azeroth and the Emerald Dream are quasi-duplicates of each other — the Emerald Dream is Azeroth as seen through a magic lens, untouched by the hands of mortals. The Emerald Dream is the Azeroth that would not have been split by magic into the two landmasses of today — within it is the original greater landmass of Kalimdor, covered in the hazy emerald green forests of aeons past. 
Nature is in a perfect balance in the Emerald Dream. Animals of all types inhabit the world, including some that are extinct on Azeroth and subspecies that never got the chance to evolve. Many fey creatures, such as sprites and faerie dragons, also roam the forests. However, it is not only the inhabitant creatures that roam the Dream. Creatures from Azeroth constantly visit, though they may or may not know it. Dreaming creatures arrive in the Emerald Dream and often have prophetic and helpful visions. 
Druids enter the plane through their connection with nature. While within the dream, the traveler can, through exercise of will, view the waking world and to a limited extent interact with it (as presumably all aspects of the world have some connection to the Emerald Dream). Accessing the Emerald Dream via more conventional magic is possible, but the plane’s natives do not look kindly on intruders. 
The entire plane is the dominion of Ysera, the mighty green dragon Aspect, and she and her brood ensure that none despoil this paradise. For all its wonder, the Emerald Dream is not without its dangers. Those who visit via their dreams are welcomed and enfolded within the natural balance, but those who bring their physical selves face suspicion and hostility. 
The druid Malfurion Stormrage made use of the Emerald Dream to enter into the palace of Queen Azshara and thwart the plans of Lord Xavius. Ysera herself and a great number of the green dragonflight reside in the dream either permanently or occasionally, as do the vast majority of the Night Elf Druids. As part of an ancient pact made between Ysera and Malfurion Stormrage, the druids are required to spend long periods of time sleeping in the Emerald Dream in exchange for their powers over the forces of nature, presumably so that they will better appreciate that which they have pledged themselves to preserve. Recently, strange events have been transpiring within the Emerald Dream and it appears that Malfurion himself may be trapped within its confines. 
The creatures of Azeroth can visit the Emerald Dream either physically or via dreams, as the realm's name indicates. When an individual's spirit visits the Dream, leaving the body behind, that individual will manifest his or her dream form, which normally looks and behaves much as that individual's physical body might. Hence, for most creatures, moving through the Dream is achieved in the normal fashion, despite the realm's chiefly spiritual character. These rules do not apply to druids of sufficient skill or experience, who are trained to see beyond physical reality. These druids might be capable of abnormal movement in the Dream (e.g., a night elf who can sprint at a greatly accelerated rate, walk through solid objects, or fly). It is quite rare to see such unusual capabilities in non-druids, but it is not beyond the realm of possibility. 
The Emerald Dream also has multiple layers, described by Cenarius as different testing versions of Azeroth. Each layer represents an abandoned segment or idea that the titans tried and ultimately discarded. Malfurion observed that it looks like neither the mortal plane nor the Emerald Dream. He saw that one mountain peak lacked its northern face, while another peak looked as if someone had started molding it like clay but had lost interest. These layers were normally uninhabited and invisible, but could be accessed by any who knew how to navigate them.
A darker force has found its way into the Emerald Dream as well. Called The Nightmare, this mobile area of corruption stems from the twisted thoughts and fears of sleeping beings’ subconscious minds. The Nightmare travels slowly through the Emerald Dream, leaving corrupted, vicious animals and Unwaking travelers in its path. None, not even Ysera, knows why the Nightmare exists — nor why its boundaries grow.
Continuation of the Emerald Dream Information, WoWWiki.com
----
The Elixer of Dream Vision which my guild leader gave to me that inspired this post has the largest drop rate from Old World dragon bosses, and so I imagined them being very intertwined with the Emerald Dream itself. Since my guild leaders in-character message was to help Anariell find guidence to how her grandparents would react to her spec, and the Emerald Dream is supposed to give people helpful visions I let myself run away with the connection.