Bishop Tyragonfal

**Nation**
 **Age**
 **Titles**
* Shepard of the College of the Canons
 **Beliefs**
 **Diocese**
 **Nicknames**
 **Holdings**
 **Heraldic Device**

Bishop Tyragonfal is currently the Bishop of Stormwind and Shepard of the Clergy of Holy Light.

## Personality & Beliefs

Tyragonfal is faithful to the Light and dedicated to helping the populace of the Kingdom of Stormwind

She has a warm personality that invited conversation, is extremely curious and actively pursues issues and concerns brought to her by the citizenry. At the same time though, she has been described as appearing simultaneously confused and a bit withdrawn, this could be because her mind is constantly focused on a variety of projects and thoughts.

## Description

Bishop Tyragonfal would typically be seen in one of two regalia:

* The first, would be her every-day golden robes, underneath would be a host of armor fitted to both her form and augmented to accommodate for agility. She would also have at her waist side several satchels and what looks to be a leather holster concealed behind one of them. At her side would be a heavy light-infused maul.

* The second set would be for ceremonial use. Draped in a flowing runecloth robe, ornately decorated with a purple and gold shoulder piece that ran down to her midsection. Capped with a White Mitre, On her back would be a tall white and gold staff with a bright blue sapphire at the center of the Sigil of Faol at the top.

For both sets of regalia, the only other piece of note of her garments would be the gold and purple ring on her left hand, signifying her position as one of the Bishops of Stormwind.

## Biography

**Note:** Some parts of this backstory may have dark and violent themes.

Running her hand across a bookshelf filled with aged tomes and scrolls, Bishop Tyragonfal would peer outside, a view of the city of Stormwind during mid-day, the sun shimmering down upon all the various activities. Letting out a small sigh, she’d turn back to her candle-lit office and would peer over a strangely marked scroll that had recently arrived. Breaking the wax seal, Tyra gazed over the contents of the scroll…until several words would attract her attention, a name.

Turning back to her sanctum, she sighed. Walking over to a shelf in particular, there laid out on it were several items. A broken collar encased in a magically sealed square, a McNibs Burger Plaque, a neatly folded black tabard with a red cross, two broken shackles, a spectral raven's feather and a torn piece of leather. Running her hand across the rough surface of the leather she mutters to herself: “*Tae’Fanal…*” With that said, her mind begins to drift back to over six hundred and eighty years ago in the forests of Ashenvale.

### **Chapter One: Beginnings**

Bishop Tyragonfal was all but a child then, despite being nearly one-hundred and twenty-five, those around her were as old as 9,000. She had been studying druidic laws and principles for some time. Her Shan’do, or honored teacher had her study for hours each day, preparing her before she could move onto the deeper arts of druidism. It was not taking her long to master these, and he began to wonder if she had the blessing of Elune. Tyra herself began to wonder this as well, seeing how quickly she learned everything given to her. Her Shan’do then instructed her on the proper prayers to Elune, via meditation, in hopes that maybe she would give wisdom that others had not yet seen. With this task, and the desire to become his Thero’shan, or honored student, Tyra journeyed deep into the forest to a small grove and began to meditate.

As this occurred, her sister, Tae’Fanal, began having strange dreams that echoed into her mind. Unlike her sister though, she had no desire to disclose these with the elders and kept them to herself. Over the next several years as Tyra continued to train and meditate, the dreams soon began to haunt Tae, beckoning her to journey into the woods alone. Elune soon began to grace Tyra with visions as her own sister began to be haunted by nightmares. It however, was not what she was expecting. Elune showed Tyra what was happening to her sister and that if it was not stopped, she would soon be manipulated to call upon forces that would destroy all of Ashenvale. Pleading with Elune to give her the guidance to not let this occur, Tyra began to watch her sister carefully and plan a means of intervention. Throughout all of this, Tyra remained silent, not knowing how her own family and community would react if she told them what was occurring.

For many days Tyra thought about what to do… Finally, she came up with a plan. On a particular beautiful day, she asked her sister if she’d like to go for a walk. Tae, whose physical appearance was already showing signs of corruption. Her face pale and deepening shadows under her eyes, the nightmares were taking their toll. She agreed, thinking a long walk may ease her mind. As they both walked, Tae’s attention would occasionally look towards a northern area of the woods. Tyra began to notice this and asked her what was wrong. Tae shook her head and said “*It’s nothing…*” The further they walked though, the more she would do this until Tyra finally would stop and ask her again about this. Tae would become increasingly annoyed and snapped back at her “*Stop asking me that!*” She’d let out a growl, which caused Tyra to step back. Tae would blink as she caught herself and stared awkwardly at her sister, before running off into the northern part of the woods.

Tyra would give chase, calling out for her desperately to stop. The woods would slowly become darker until all Tyra could see was the faint hint of a bonfire in the distance. Tae would continue running, right into what appeared to be an abandoned camp, save for the dimly lit fire. Catching her breath, Tyra approached her sister, who was now staring eerily into the fire. Looking upwards, Tyra realized that they were in long-abandoned ruins, ones her elders explicitly forbid anyone from entering. “*Tae…I’m sorry, let's go…now.*” Tyra’s voice urged, but Tae would continue to stare into the embers, until both jumped as a portal cracked through reality nearby. Tyra would attempt to grab her sister, but she’d stumble and fall to the ground, a piece of her leather armor tearing off in her hand as her sister, almost mindlessly, walked towards it. Crying out for her sister, Tyra watched in horror as a large Satyr would emerge from the portal and grab her sister before dragging her into the portal. Climbing to her feet, Tyra attempted to follow, but was soon hit and sent flying back by a barrier, her head smacking against one of the stone pillars, darkness soon overtaking her….

Hours passed before Tyra was awakened by the sound of her family calling out for both her and Tae. In a daze she stood and followed the voices, gripping onto the bark of the trees for support. It wouldn’t take long for her parents to find her, and they immediately knew something was wrong. Tyra told them what had occurred, but at first they did not believe her, that is, until they walked into the ruins. The smell of fel magic hung in the air and it was quickly decided to return home before anything else should happen.

Once home, Tyra would find little rest as the fate of her sister began to weigh heavy on her mind. The next day, the elders of her community would meet in private as to what to do. There was a sense that Tyra may be now cursed, like her sister, and would attract unwanted attention upon her and their forests. Even with the trauma Tyra had faced, it was decided to banish her from Ashenvale and the surrounding forests. Her parents and others would object but the matter was decided and thus, Tyra had to leave all that she loved behind, including her surname. To lose two daughters and their only children pained her family. As not many had ventured outside their community and returned alive, it was assumed that she would perish in the wilds.

### **Chapter Two: Exile**

This however, was not the case. For the next six hundred years, Tyra wandered across Kalimdor, exploring much of what it had to offer on foot. During this time, she would see only brief encounters with her people and formed friendships with the Tauren. Survival in such conditions would be strenuous at times. Despite this, through building relations with the Winterhoof, Mistrunner and and Skychaser tribes, Tyra not only learned of the Tauren’s culture through their storytelling, but several of the druids took her under their wing to teach her herbology and these natural methods of healing. She also learned to avoid the numerous trolls that inhabited the region and would have several close encounters with them.

When the Burning Legion first invaded Azeroth, Tyra journeyed to Mount Hyjal and aided her brethren. Despite the assistance she provided, after the Third War concluded, she was not welcomed back  and instead, she became curious about the Humans that had come to Kalimindor. Faced with the prospect of not ever having a place to call home on Kalimdor, Tyra decided to seek out work aboard one of the human ships and made her way across the seas to the Eastern Kingdom. Arriving in Stormwind, living inside a city of stone and with so many people enclosed in one space was extremely overwhelming for Tyra at first. Work also would be sparse as many of the citizenry had never seen, let alone trust a Kaldorei. Forced to take hard labor jobs, slowly Tyra would begin to grasp the language. One of her jobs became being a mortician, specifically, checking the city each day for any deceased…This work would introduce her to the Cathedral of Light and their libraries of texts.

In her spare time, Tyra would study within the Transept of the Cathedral and it was here she was introduced to a man, later known to her as the Doctor. He would frequent the library and she noticed that he came in and out of the catacombs occasionally, always carrying parchments or foul smelling bags down. However, when Tyra went down there, she could never find him nor anything he carried. After watching him go down the stone steps one night, she got curious enough to follow him. Hiding within the shadows, she watched as he opened a hidden door behind one of the coffins and quickly snuck inside before it closed. The room before her was dimly lit and was a wonderland of various instruments and…blood. The crimson stained nearly every surface of this room and in particular, on the back wall was a large cross painted in it. Quietly, she moved behind one of the shelves and immediately froze as a frightful shriek filled the room. At this point she noticed the bound man in the middle of the room. The man, who maybe was in his early 30’s had various wires and needles stuck into him and were attached to some mechanical device. Watching the man she followed slowly flip the switch again and again, this would cause the prisoner to be electrocuted again and again. This continued on for over an hour until finally the screaming stopped and the prisoner screamed his last breath.

       Tyra’s eyes widened in disbelief as in her clumsiness, knocked one of the books off the shelf. As it came crashing to the floor, he would turn his gaze up to where she was hiding. Grabbing what looked to be a scalpel, he walked over and grabbed her. With nothing to fight with but her fists, Tyra tried to swing at him but he pinned her to the wall. “*What are you doing here, elf?*” His tone cold and unamused, she looked up at him with wide eyes. “*I…Was simply curious in what you were doing…W-why did you kill that man?*” Tyra stuttered out slowly, her common was still extremely poor, the man nodded, seeing that she was no threat; he threw the scalpel across the room. “*This man…is a heretic girl..Do you know what a heretic is?*” Tyra shook her head. He sighed, “*They are individuals who are bent on destroying this world and are against the light and all that it stands for.*” These words made her harken back to her days in the forest and how she prayed to Elune to bring back her sister. Nodding, she responded “*What do you know of Elune…sir?*” With her tone laced with curiosity, he blinked, perplexed by the question. “*Elune, child, is believed by our order to be a false god, and that those who follow “her” are confused and borderline into the realm of heresy*.”

Tyra blinked, not understanding what he meant. After asking several more questions about what a heretic and false god was, she then began to understand more. This led to her telling him what had occurred when she lost her sister and was exiled. Even in the dim light, she could see him smile…Though with blackened, near-rotting teeth, it was not that pleasant of a sight. *“Girl…As you have experienced, simple prayer and just hoping Elune would intervene are ineffective…You cannot wait and hope for action, you have to take it. This is our approach to the heretics that rot this city and the populace may not understand when they see us stringing up a man or woman for heresy, but the Light guides our actions. The Light offers you the tools to change your destiny…Not some prayers to a false god.*” His words made Tyra at first go silent in quiet contemplation and the more she thought about it, the more sense it would make. Looking up at him with brightened eyes, this was the first time since arriving in the city that someone had not treated her with disgust and this caused his words to heavily weigh on her. Seeing her face and eyes light up, the man moved towards one of the cobweb coated bookshelves and pulled from it a small brown book. Handing it to her, she wiped off what looked like a century’s-worth of dust from it. “*Read this, and return to me if its contents interest you...*” Tyra smiled, nodding once, but before leaving asks “*What is your name…Sir? So that I may find you again?*” Laughing once, he responded “*The Doctor, girl that is all you shall know me by, now go.*”

Walking back up to the small library, she sat down and opened the aged book titled “*Codexus Caelestaeum*.” Staying up the entire night, she read and reread it till the early morning. As the Doctor walked up the steps coming from the catacombs, he had to laugh at her asleep with the book in hand. She awoke to a smack to the head, yelping, she turned to find him glaring down at her. “*Enjoy yourself, girl?*” She looked up at him sleepily and nodded. “*I did, and I wish to learn more sir.*” He grunted in response, “*Come with me then, you have much more to learn.*”

### **Chapter Three: The Shadows Gaze**

For the next several years she studied under the Doctor and learned much about the Caelestis Templare. Some things that she studied included how to properly dismember, torture, and extract information from heretics. Along with this, she also learned and studied the anatomies  of many of the races that Azeroth had to offer with actual specimens to research, not just pictures in books. From doing this, she began collecting different ‘specimens’ for her own collection. Finding the act of collecting, dismembering, and sorting parts in jars was a pleasant hobby to distract her from the screams that echoed out from the Doctor’s chambers.

One day, Grandmaster Senthroth approached Tyra while she was sitting in the library. *“Zealot Tyragonfal, it has been several years since you joined the Inquisitore’s. The Doctor has given high praises towards your work for the Light.*” The Grandmaster would then pull out a golden coin with an eye engraving on the top and the Caelestis cross on the back. “*This, Zealot is part of your test, place your hand on the table.”* Tyra did as instructed, placing her hand palm down onto the wooden surface. The Grandmaster would then move towards one of the torches, placing coin inside the brazier till it glowed red. His plated hand then picked it up and set it down onto her tender skin. Her skin immediately began to crack and burn, the Grandmaster took his mace and pushed it down till the coin burned through her flesh and settled itself in. During all of this, the Grandmaster watched how she reacted. At first, Tyra flinched at the pain, but quickly relaxed herself as her entire hand felt as if it was aflame. Nodding to this, the Grandmaster removed his mace, revealing the coin, with the eye facing up, nestled in her hand as it was meant to be there. Settling his hand over it, the Grandmaster would empower it with the Light, the eye of the coin now illuminating and causing an intense burning sensation. “*It will heal with time, Zealot. Do not attempt to ever remove it though; this is now a brand you shall wear forever. Now…at our meeting you have earned the next rank, Inquisitor. Light be with you.*” With that, he left Tyra to her thoughts.

After attaining the rank of Inquisitor, life for Tyra again changed as she was now expected to be in the shadows, a ghost of sorts and not be seen or heard from except when it was time for her to perform an inquisition. Because of this, she donned new garments. Clad fully in black, with a veil covering most of her face, from then on she became the ever watchful shadow of the Inquisition.

It was during this time that she was keeping an eye over the Templares, that she met a very young girl, perhaps no older than five, come into the Cathedral one day with Grandmaster Senthroth keeping his protective gaze on her. He approached Tyragonfal and asked that she also keep an eye on her…The girl was an orphan and he had decided to adopt her. The young child’s name was Syprus and, given the type of assigned work Tyra was given, watching over Syprus occasionally was a relieving break. The young girl loved to spend time in the Cathedral gardens with the rabbits and, after watching her father write prayers for the order’s meetings, she too would write prayers to…the rabbits. The Grandmaster and others in the Priory frowned upon this and slowly, Tyra watched as the young girl would become more disciplined, spending more time in the Library with her codex and less time in the garden playing. While Tyra understood why this had to happen, it left a lingering feeling of sadness in her heart.

### **Chapter Four: Echoes of the Past**

One evening, the screams from the catacombs grew silent. As Tyra ventured down to the laboratory as she did every day, she found the place abandoned, with just the shelves and table left. On the table was a note stating that he had gone away, back to his tower and would not return. With her overseer and mentor gone, Tyra then took over the torturing of heretics several more years. She also claimed the laboratory as her own and slowly filled it with her own collection of various ‘parts’. Doing this day in and day out soon began to its toll on her and she approached the Lord Inquisitor Andaelas one night to propose an idea. “*Lord Inquisitor, I have served these last few years diligently. What I am asking for is for me to go and infiltrate the world outside of the Cathedral. Here I would study, research and observe the heretic so that I may use the information upon my return against them.*”

The Lord Inquisitor pondered for a moment, his hand brushing up over a blackened eye patch to push away some of his grayed locks. “*How long would this be for?*” He questioned, his voice rumbling out like a great wave crashing against the shore. “*For as long as it would take. This could be one, two or even three years away from the Inquisition.*” The Lord Inquisitor nodded. “*I must speak to the Grandmaster on this, come back to me in a day.*” With that said, she saluted and returned to her quarters. As she traveled down to the barracks, Syprus would run up to Tyragonfal. Knowing it would be some time before she would see her again, Tyra spent the evening studying with the young budding zealot, though a part of her did grow concerned as Syprus was becoming more like her father, the hatred in her eyes and spirit…At the same time though, Tyra knew one day she’d serve her order well. The next night, the Lord Inquisitor returned to inform her that she has the blessings of the Grandmaster to conduct her research.

### **Chapter Five: A Rat Within the Darkness**

    Tyra then began to frequent the Slaughtered Lamb. Observing warlocks, shadow priests, necromancers, and cultists come and go as they pleased, it disgusted her, but she had to keep her composure, else her mission be unveiled. Throughout these weeks, she kept a watchful eye on one man in particular. Through the various conversations she overheard, Tyra learned that the man was called “The Baron”. Her watchful eye one night caused the Baron’s suspicions to arise and he approached her. *“Tree-Rat, why do you desecrate this bar with your presence every night, hmm?*” His blue-tinted eyes glaring over at her gave away the fact he was a Death Knight, she glared from under her veil. *“Perhaps it is to look at individuals such as yourself act in such a ghastly manner*.” Her voice snapped back, making him chuckle. “*The Rat has claws…*” Continuing to mock her, Tyra approached him. Taking a seat, she responded “*A man such as yourself is also not a typical sight either at this bar…So, tell me…Why are you here?*” “*This is the gathering place of my family, rat…*” He responded brashly.

As Tyra was about to ask who else was in his family, the Baron abruptly stood and walked down to the catacombs. Always having a curious nature about her, Tyra followed him down till he stepped into one of the lower tombs. Staying at the door, she peered behind the corner to see a group gathered. The group, led by the Baron proceeded to perform a dark ritual. It was during this that he noticed one of Tyras ears poking out from the corner in which she hid. Nodding silently to a Kaldorei clad in leathers to his right, the elf vanished and quickly appeared behind Tyra with a dagger to her back. “*It is not wise to spy on that which you are not invited to see…*” The elf’s voice was deep, and trickled out like thick molasses. Frozen in place, Tyra then began to fake a stutter, as if she was a young, innocent maiden. “*I..I was only curious as to what was going on…s-sir.*” Her eyes flickered beneath the veil up at him. The elven rogue grinned down at her, sheathing his dagger, but quickly replaced it with a syringe. Without hesitation he injected her with a concoction that would make her pass out. As darkness overtook her, she tried to scream but she quickly collapsed to the floor.

    Several days passed before Tyra awakened in what appeared to be a cell. Looking out from her bars, the room seemed familiar to her own laboratory, but it was definitely not hers. There she saw the Baron and a man clad in purple head to toe speaking in hushed tones. Noticing that their guest had awoken, they both walk over to her cell. It was then she realized her hood was gone and the two could tell from her reaction that she just realized this and laughed. “*There is nothing to hide now, tree-rat…Nowhere to run either.*” The Baron taunted her some more, till the man next to her opened the cell. Walking in he grabbed her and despite the struggles, was overpowered. Holding Tyra, the Baron approached, grabbing her jaw “*I give you a choice, rat…Join or you shall experience a never-ending darkness.*” With no real other option, Tyra agreed to join their ‘family.’ Soon after, she took an oath of allegiance, but her words were hollow, her true allegiance was always going to be to the Light. During this time, she continued, in secret, to send the Lord Inquisitor updates on what was going on from within this cult.

It soon became her role in this family to assist their Master Tormentor, the same elf that had knocked her out previously. Through him, she learned new ways of torture that had she had never seen before through her previous teachings. However, as this Master could see that Tyra already had talent and tried his best to get her tongue to talk, but no matter how many nights he tortured her, she would not spill her secrets. Instead, she told lies about reading books and learning on her own as it interested her. As a result, most of the knowledge she gained on torture was from whatever the Kaldorei decided to use on her. This first-hand knowledge of torture taught her not only to resist varying degrees of pain and the proper ways to perform it on others, but also to find strength through pain itself. After months of this, he finally gave up, determining that if she had anything to say, she would have by now.

   For two years, Tyra served in this family loyally, but at the same time was coincidentally, a rat. Eventually, her ‘family’ began to set the Templare’s as their targets for assassinations. This, she could not allow happen and several times risked exposure to inform the Templars. After the last attempt, she knew it was time to bring the axe down on them. One night, Tyra did not return to where they congregated. After several hours, the Baron grew suspicious and sent a party out to find her. As this group left, the Templare made their move. With their defenses weakened by many of their men leaving, the remaining heretics quickly surrendered, including the Baron and Master Tormentor. Safely locked inside an impenetrable prison, the paladins then hunted and killed the party sent after Tyra.

    With her mission now completed, Tyra returned to the Inquisition after being fully evaluated by the Lord Inquisitor to ensure that no taint of those she was forced to be surrounded with remained. Donning the veil and black robes again, she became a shadow. However, it soon became apparent that as her methods of torture soon became bloodier and her love of taking various parts from those that were her ‘subjects’, she was soon given a new name by the Master Inqusitor Pardis: The Surgeon.

### **Chapter Six: A Journey Thus Travelled**

   As the moon fully rose, its glow trickled into Tyra’s laboratory. Standing, she mumbled to herself “*It’s time…*” Walking upstairs to the steps of the Cathedral, two men, a Death Knight and elven rogue would be bound in heavy chains and be presented to the Templare below, including Syprus, who watched with great interest. The Grandmaster stood in front of them, sword in hand. He nodded to Tyra as she approached. The two men’s eyes seethed with anger at her presence. She could not help but smirk under her veil. “*You both, like those you commanded, have been found guilty of heresy, in which the punishment…is death.*” The Grandmasters voice boomed out throughout the Cathedral Square.  “*I would have no greater pleasure to see you both die by my hand, but I believe it is appropriate that whom you tormented for years and called a rat, be given this honor.*”

With that, the Grandmaster handed Tyra the ornate, heavy sword. Stepping first towards the elf, she struck him with a single blow that decapitated him instantly. Making the man she despised for years to watch as his loyal servant bled out onto the steps, she approached him next. “*The light shall have no mercy on your soul…Heretic.*” Before he could utter another pitiful remark, she beheaded him with one swing. As their heads rolled down the Cathedral steps, the Templare voices rang out into the night “*Caelestis Gloriam!*” Returning to her quarters soon after the trials end, Tyra wondered what the mission the light would give her next.

### **Chapter Seven: A Breach of Faith**

Tyragonfal’s work within the Inquisitors would continue and since the trial, she gained a reputation as one to be feared. Soon, a new menace would come to the Templares doorstep in the form of a child, specifically a gnome named Devilina. Despite her bright, cheerful appearance, this little gnome was causing chaos and mayhem to the Caelestis Templares. A novice warlock, her shenanigans, specifically towards the Grandmaster, were notorious enough so that she was officially deemed a heretic and placed in their *Grimoire Hereticus* (Book of Heretics). Tyragonfal would participate in several of the hunts for this devious little renegade. Devilina was skilled in avoiding the Paladins and continued to be a thorn in their side for many months. This would all change though through a clever trap. The Grandmaster gifted Devilina a small white kitten, but as the gnome played with it, she would be surrounded by the zealot Paladins, their swords drawn, she would be taken custody and thrown into one of the Inqusitore’s cells. Tyragonfal was tasked with extracting information from the gnome, being a part of a notorious warlock coven, she was expected to learn as much as possible and by any means possible. To torture a child, despite being a heretic…made Tyra uneasy, but she did as instructed. After several hours, she was able to get the information desired from Devilina, who was left huddled in the cell, clutching her white kitten.

Having completed her task, she turned the gnome back over to the Templare. Because of her age, Devilina was sentenced to a flogging, which happened to fall on her 9th birthday. It was also planned that afterwards, the Grandmaster wished to test an experimental ritual to see if the fel and void taint that resided in the child, could be expelled. As the moon rose once more over the Cathedral, Tyra would lead the heavily chained Devilina up and out onto the Cathedral steps. Faced with the entire regimen of the Templare, Grandmaster Senthroth stood behind the tiny form and with a bull-whip in hand, proceeded to give her nine lashings upon her back, one for each year of her pitiful existence. Tyra watched and as the terrified shrieks and screams filled the Cathedral square, this would strike the Kaldorei hard. “*This…isn’t right…*” She internally would mutter as blood poured from the gnome’s back, lurched forward as she cried in pain. The image of the Grandmaster in shining, golden armor with a crumpled tiny form of a crimson-soaked child at his feet…This image would be permanently burned into Tyra’s memory.

After the meeting concluded, Tyra was instructed to bring Devilina to Northshire. The spectacle had caused quite a ruckus and even some within the Templare’s ranks were so horrified, they tore off their tabards and abandoned the order. Awkwardly, Tyra sat with Devilina as they awaited the Priory, or the upper echelon of officers of the Templare to arrive. Briefly away from the prying eyes of others, Tyra would wipe the tears from the child’s eyes and brought out her white kitten, letting the gnome snuggle it for some time before the heavy sound of plated footsteps would echo throughout the hallowed halls. Quickly, Tyra took the kitten and placed it gently in her satchel and quietly whispered to Devilina that everything would be alright…though Tyra really did not know what this ‘ritual’ would be. As Grandmaster Senthroth approached Devilina, he forcefully grabbed the injured gnome and would pull her to the center. Here, the paladins would surround her and with a booming voice “*Devilina, your days of causing chaos to our order and this realm will end this night. Either you will perish by the Light or your foul wickedness will be burned away…*” Devilina trembled, knelt down, each of the Templare would take out their holy librams, which each glowed with a brilliant light, empowering them with the Light’s will. Tyra sat, wide-eyed as they proceeded to pour the Light into the tiny child. Immediately, the Light’s energies would burn at Devilina’s form, her screams once again echoing out throughout the halls of Northshire. All that Tyra could see is a silhouette of the gnome as she was engulfed in the magnificent glow…followed by a thud and a silence that followed. As the Light dimmed, Tyra would see sprawled out on the ground the still form of the gnome child.

Grandmaster Senthroth, looking down with a look of pure hatred towards the form, kicked the gnome slightly…with no response. “*Inquisitor…Check to see if this heretic still breathes life.*” The coldness of the tone struck Tyra…even though she had heard it plenty of times before. Slowly, she knelt down and checked the pulse, finding a weak one…It was here that Tyra had to make a choice: Bring about certain death for this child…or give an opportunity at a new life. Knowing what the consequences would be for her, she looked up at Grandmaster Senthroth “*The heretic is dead, Grandmaster.*” He would nod, not doubting such a trusted member of the Inquisition “*Then I leave it to you to dispose of this filth, come Templare, we return to Stormwind.*” As the sound of the heavy footsteps faded and silence once again fell upon Northshire, Tyra sat, knelt by the gnome, her white kitten crawling from Tyra’s satchel and nudging up against the tiny form. Looking about, Tyra cast a small amount of healing on her to sustain her life, before cradling in her arms as if she was her own child and rushed her out the door. Tyra had remembered there was a former Templare, Kaidence, now deemed a heretic, that had a vast farmland nearby and with haste, brought Devilina there and left the gnome in her care. Kaidence looked at Tyra, knowing that she had committed treason against the Templare and offered her also a place, but she shook her head “*No…if I stay here, they will find her…I will return to the darkness…Duskwood is far enough from the city that they should not find me there. Please…look after her, make sure she never again delves into the dark arts, the Light has given her another chance at life…she should not squander it*.”

### **Chapter Eight: A Path into the Unknown**

Returning to the city, Tyragonfal would quickly and silently move all her personal belongings to the hidden laboratory. Leaving a note for the Grandmaster that she was pursuing a lead and would be absent and also a letter for Syprus, saddened that she would not be able to watch her grow and mature …She then set off to Duskwood, with little more than a satchel of supplies and what gold she had, it was here she would find the deserted town of Raven Hill, well, what she believed was deserted. Now dressed in normal attire, for several months Tyra lived relatively unbothered. The occasional run-in with an undead or friendly traveller, it seemed that she had truly vanished from the Templares radar. That is, until one night as the moon rose above the dilapidated inn where she was staying, the sounds of footsteps entering echoed to her hovel upstairs. Slowly, she crept down the stairwell and would peer out, seeing the shadows of a multitude of figures..one of whom had a stench that was familiar…But Tyra could not place where.

Listening, she realized this was a band of both criminals…and cultists, a strange combination, but as she listened in to their plans, one would turn and see the outline of her ears poking from the stairwell. Unaware she was now detected, as she continued to watch, one of the rogues would appear from behind her “*Enjoying the view*?” A voice snarled out, before pushing Tyra down the staircase. Screaming out as her form thudded down, as she landed, she looked up to see the group peering down at her “*Looks like we have a rat in our midst*.” One joked, Tyra growling out, it had been years since she was called such, but did not dare move. “*I was just staying upstairs…*” She sputtered out and as she finished speaking, a loud growl could be heard coming from the corner of the inn “*That voice…*” the words coming out distorted, gravel-toned and belonging to a Saronite-clad Death Knight. As the crowd parted, Tyra’s eyes widened with pure horror…It was the Baron. His head sewn back on and restored to life, his footsteps creaked against the floor boards as he stood over Tyra. “*What a surprise…Thought you got rid of me, rat?*” Tyra was speechless, fear swelled with her as the man she betrayed slowly unsheathed his sword…and would bring it crashing…right next to her head. “*Oh…I won’t be that easy on you rat…No, I believe you will serve us well…*” The group would chuckle as the Baron made a hand motion and suddenly, Tyra would feel a prick on her arm, looking to see a fluid be injected in her. “*Now…sleep…Your hell is just beginning*.” Darkness would quickly overtake her.

Awakening, Tyra would find herself in a cell on a ship…in chains and neither the Baron nor his associates were there. Trying to get a sense of her bearings, she smelled the salty air and sound of seagulls, realizing she was in a harbor. She then began to try and force herself up, but the thick chains and tight irons around her wrist and ankles, made this impossible. Letting out an aggravated, feral growl as she felt the wrist irons dig into her skin, this would alert those on the vessel and Tyra would hear the creaks of the wooden planks as a man peered into the cell “*Oi! Keep it down in there, you’ll get a chance to be seen like the others.*” Tyra blinked “*Others, what others?!*” A chuckle would first be offered as a response “*Thats right…youre the one that came in looking like you had one too many at the Pig…We’ve got a lovely group of Nobles looking for some fresh help…You’d best be on your best behavior, else the sharks are hungry today.*”

Blinking, Tyra slumped to the back of her cell, the chains clanking, she closed her eyes and waited for the sounds of footsteps to return. Soon, the Kaldorei was dragged up on deck, the bright sunlight blinding her for a moment and as her vision cleared seeing that she was in Stormwind Harbor and that there would be a dozen…perhaps more, extremely well dressed individuals staring at her. Feeling as if every part of her was being judged, before she could even collect herself, the auction would begin. Several agonizing moments later as price climbed and those in attendance would bicker amongst each other, the Kaldorei would be sold at the sound of a heavy maul crashing down. Confused, Tyra looked about as she was dragged forward and a man with obsidian eyes would smirk at her. Staring up, his gaze would almost be hypnotizing, his voice would smoothly come out “*It seems my dear, that I have a new assistant…*” a dark smile and chuckle would escape him as Tyra continued to stare, speechless.

### **Chapter Nine: An Obsidian Aberration**

The obsidian-eyed man, who Tyra would come to know as Keruptis SaDiablo, would take the confused, still-chained, Kaldorei back through Duskwood…and into Deadwind. Leading her down to the depths of a crypt. As they passed a hidden barrier, the stench of fel, void and other foul magics immediately struck her and soon she’d see why. Being led through dozens of warlocks, that just smirked as Tyra’s now trembling form was brought to the depths of the ancient crypt, once again she would be thrown into a cell. The Obsidian-eyed man grinning “*I will be back soon…My pet.*” The words made Tyra feel sick to her stomach as she stared into the darkness, hearing the sounds of demons and other horrors in the distance.  The cold damp cell was her only comfort as the experiments would soon begin. As an ‘assistant’ she was subjected to horrendous rituals as they explored the depths and limitations of…the soul. Her body wracked with pain, shackled in an open space, the void used to painfully pull at her very being…before stopping just before crossing that threshold. The light slowly dimming from her eyes, each session seemed to form cracks on the outer edges of her soul.

One evening, as she was brought down, she saw laid out on the table a cadaver of a Kaldorei that had similar features to herself. Standing over her would be Keruptis, an obsidian dagger in his hand, he was finishing carving intricate runes that seemed to cover her entire elven form. Grinning as Tyra would be brought forward, her legs almost not wanting to go forward, but she’d be dragged to the table, staring at the still form before her. “*Admiring my work? There is still much to be done before she is ready…*” He darkly chuckled “*But…you, my pet, are the dessert to this masterpiece…*” The experiments would soon resume, Tyra’s mind weakened by the repeated rituals, she would soon bear witness to something new. Brought down to the main chamber, the water in the pool at her feet would be red with blood…Several bodys laying on the side, as the terrifying screams echoed across the decrepit halls. Looking a distance away, a circle of warlocks would be gathered, with several bound individuals of different races and genders at the center.

```
Watching helplessly as the ritual progressed, it was then she noticed the Kaldorei cadaver would be at the back of the room, chained and hanging downward, Tyra wondered why they would do this to a corpse…until she saw the form move. Indeed, the cadaver was now showing signs of life, and Tyra would see why. The warlocks gathered would begin to chant, energies would swirl in the air, empowered by the energies of Karazhan…and suddenly a surge of magical energy would be piercing through each of the bound sacrifices. The horrendous cacophony of screams would fill Tyra’s ears and mind as she watched their souls be torn from their bodies and channeled into the Kaldorei construct. Silence soon filled the chamber as the bodies fell one by one, each with a splash into the pool, their own blood now adding to the mixture. “*W-what are you doing?!*” Tyra finally stuttered out, breaking this silence…and the other warlocks would turn and look at her, smirking. Kerputis approached, his hands covered in crimson gore as he laughed, “*Creating perfection my dear…assistant.This is just the beginning…Your turn will come one day.*” Her eyes widened, unable to speak as she fell backwards, into the pool of ichor. Months would pass, each night the same…the bodies, the stench of death,the screams that now echoed in Tyra’s nightmares, she would lose count as to how many souls would be placed in this form, only they would know when it would be time for…dessert. Madness would attempt to take its hold of her, but she would manage to avoid losing herself completely, even if every session felt as if a part of her was being chipped away.

```

The full moon would rise once more when Tyra was awakened in her cell. This time, Kerputis would be accompanied by several others “*It is time for dessert…my pet and you have been well seasoned…*” Shaking her head, Tyra pushed herself to the back of the cell..for all the good that would do her. Expecting this, Keruptis snapped his fingers and his followers would step in and forcibly grab her and drag her to the ceremonial site. “*N-no please*!” She screamed out in terror as she was set down, not even chained as the warlocks closed a circle in around her. Staring up at the twitching form of the Kaldorei, her eyes closed, hanging from the chains. “*You have been prepared for this moment, Tyragonfal. Now, accept your fate and live forever…*” Tears flowing down her eyes as the chanting began, the space coming alive like she had never seen before. As a darkened beam would strike her, she let out a terrifying scream, and then another…and another. Soon several beams pierced her and would flow into the construct. Her very soul being ripped from her, she closed her eyes…and after several moments of excruciating pain, an explosion would be heard then… silence. “*A-Am I…*” Tyra weakly uttered, opening her eyes weakly to see she was still alive and standing where she was, as was the Kaldorei construct. Looking around, everyone else was gone. “*What…I…don’t…*” She suddenly screamed out in pain, grasping her side, blood in her hands, she was still injured. Standing weakly, something would be off… Looking at the construct, she stared at it for a moment, an urge to touch the figure “*Are you…*” Her blood-coated hand moving up and touching the construct’s clammy, cold skin, as soon as her hand made contact, the it’s eyes opened, sending Tyra tumbling back into the bloodied water.

The obsidian-eyes of the Kaldorei peered down at Tyra silently watching her. “*What…are you?*” She asked, the construct simply looked again at her, the runes covering her form pulsating a pale blue light slightly. Once again feeling that internal pull and pain, she then realizes what it is, and looks at the construct again “*Oh no…How…how is this possible? Where did the others go, did you do this to them?*!” The chained construct continued to silently stare. *“I…what am I going to do with you…”* Tyra sighed. Against her better judgement, Tyra weakly undid the chains, but left them around the construct's wrists, letting them drag behind her as she followed Tyra around. “*I…don’t know what your purpose is, or how to get me…out of you. But I will figure this out…*” She would walk to rows of crypts and enter one that was further down, taking the Construct and again chained her to the wall. *“I will figure this out…Please…forgive me to all those in there, I am sorry I could not stop this.”* The construct simply watched as Tyra would tightly close up the crypt, leaning upon it, tears flowing from her eyes as the adrenaline faded and the pain radiating from her side returned…along with that pressure that lessened as she moved further away from the construct. *“The Light…Elune, they have all abandoned me…to these depths of madness and now I am…”* Exhaling heavily, Tyra would leave the crypts, unsure if any of Keruptis’ followers remained…Duskwood was no longer a safe place to reside.

### **Chapter Ten: A Dreamers Demise**

Injured and her spirit quite literally broken, she would travel back to Stormwind. Cloaked as she did not want to gain the Templares attention, she returned to the Mage District and sought out a druid to aid her. Help though. would not be as forthcoming as she thought, her form reeked of fel and foul energies and if she wasn't already an outcast…she was now in the gutters of society. As she sat one night outside the Slaughtered Lamb, perched against a tree, she weakly would treat the festering injury to her side. Two figures in the distance would watch her curiously, a druid, clad in green-tinted leathers and obscured by a hood and another robed human. While they could detect the foul energies from where they were, they still chose to approach. “*You look like you could use some help…*” Tyra listened to the human, but his presence would set her on edge a bit, she had only just escaped from one human with ill-intents…could this be another? Could this be one of his followers? Tyra would proceed to ask questions regarding who they were, etc. and each only seemed to amuse them more. “*Such a curious, injured doe…Come now, do you wish for some assistance?*” The druid asked, chuckling a bit as he watched Tyra stand, keeping her eyes downward “*Yes…*” Is all she could stay as her voice trembled out and would follow the two. While the druid remained quiet, his companion would say “*My name is the Raven…Now, how does a Kaldorei such as yourself get injured like that and smell so…interesting.*” They both turned and looked at her, grinning, making her uneasy, but with death's door beckoning, she continued to follow them into the woods.

The nameless druid would put his hand over Tyra’s injuries and slowly begin to heal them. The feeling of the soothing, natural magic over her broken form made her relax a bit…perhaps putting too much trust into them. “*Now…There is always a cost to saving one’s life.*” A chuckle escaped the druid as she looked to the Raven and back to them “*Like hell there is a cost…and I am not paying!*” She snarled back at them. “*Looks like someone’s gotten back their spunk…*” The druid smirked, Tyra looked at the both of them and chose not to fight, but to run. Her pace still weakened, looking behind, they would be gone…only to run straight into the druid. She thumped to the ground. “*How dare you take advantage of someone in need!*” She naively would snarl, only causing them both to chuckle once more. “*You should be grateful that we didn’t watch you slowly wither away…As entertaining as that would be. Now…for that cost…*” The druid produced a small, round leather disk in his hand and as he got closer she would see it would be…a collar. “*I’d be a fool to wear that!*” she growled but the druid simply cast roots around her legs and arms to bind her. “*I can tell that you enjoy being a servant dear…So why not accept your fate, hmm?*” He’d cackle, approach her and snapping the collar on, it’d let out a magical hum. “*W-what…No…*” She grew silent as it hummed to life. What control she had over herself and her mind now seemed to be in the hands of the druid and the Raven.

The following months would be a blur to Tyra as she once again was in a role of servitude. They quickly learned how…useless Tyra was though, being already in such a broken state, this only worsened her condition as she was now being experimented on for…hallucinogens and other toxins. The collar prevented her from ever dissenting and with each injection, Tyra felt her mind slip further…and further away from her. As dusk settled in Elwynn, the druid remarked to the Raven *“I am beginning to tire of this one’s…uselessness, may I perform one…final experiment, and get rid of burden*?” Recently coming off the latest injection, the words she heard were slow, jumbled, and her own words slurred out as the Druid grabbed and took her to Moonglade, dragging her deep into the depths of a warren, Tyra looked around and whispers began to fill the air “*What am I hearing..*” The Druid simply chuckled as Tyra watched the walls begin to almost move, blackened forms appearing as her eyes widened and words would try to be spoken, but simply would not manifest. With no warning, the forms would latch onto Tyra as she screamed out “*Such a useless pile of flesh you are…Go now, to my Masters realm and perhaps he will find use to your pitiful form…”* Before she could react, dark reddened vines covered her form and darkness would envelop her mind as she was put into a deepened sleep. Desperately, she tried to fight off the maddening whispers as they attacked her mind, but already being so weakened…she could do little to stop them.

Awakening in the dream, all around her was darkness…twisting dark, crimson vines around her, she found herself in a horrific version of Moonglade. Despite being a dream, the air was heavy, weighing her down as she walked, the whispers would continue, trying to afflict her, feeling them lash at her body. The feeling as if something was always watching her from the shadows as she walked the desolated enclave. “*I have to get out of here…*” She sighed, the hopelessness of this was evident and only added to the burdens piling upon her. A deep, bellowing chuckle would echo from the darkness “*Little fractured one…where are you running off to?”*  the voice would make her jump and would do so again as something skittered by at the corner of her eye. “*I…will get out of her…*” She muttered to herself as she came to a moonwell, its waters fouled, she sat by them. *“Light….Elune…anyone that isn’t trying to kill me at this moment…Please….”* She would begin to weep, her tears flowing into the pool…the splashing sounds amplified, causing an echo. She looked down, seeing her tears begin to swirl in the waters “*This is….a dream…only a…*” A roar would be heard behind her “*There is no escape, little fractured one, you are welcomed here…not back where you are nothing*.”, turning to see unfathomable horrors begin to rush toward her.

Quickly, Tyra would look down at the waters as they churned, she would force herself to cry more, each drop causing the water to shimmer, seeing her slumbering self. At that moment the voice would rumble out again “*Stay…and you will live forever…Leave and you will be nothing…*” Snarling back at the voice, she knew its words to be lies…this was only a dream, afterall.  Tyra would dip her hands first in the water and then dive forth. Awakening, the vines that covered her would have turned to dust…and the space was as normal as could be…but her hands shook. “*Wait a moment…I…*” She would try to summon a healing spell upon her form, and the natural magics would fail to come and in the back of her mind she heard the voice chuckle once more“ *You are nothing.*” Her voice stuttered out as she curled into a ball and shook “*I…am n-nothing…*”

### **Chapter Eleven: A Light of Hope**

The next week would be a blur, Tyra finding herself back in Stormwind, while now not reeking of foul energies…she no longer possessed the abilities of a druid. No healing…no forms…a heavy depression and darkness took Tyras shattered heart. “*What good is my life if I cannot do anything…They were all right…I am nothing…*” The trembles only grew worse as the days passed by. Tyra would try to find employment within some households, but was either sent immediately away, or sacked due to her utter incompetence. Walking about Old Town, the one place people did not look down upon her for her tattered robes and demeanor…She would unfortunately attract the attention of several thugs. Unable to defend herself and having absolutely nothing of value, they found joy in beating her. “*Stupid treerat*.” One spat on her as she lay shattered on the ground. For hours people passed her by, giving her no notice until one walked by on a horse, seeing the dire situation she was in, he picked her up and rode to the Cathedral. Not wanting any questions, he would carelessly toss her onto the steps, her head hitting the marble steps with a heavy thud. Weakly, Tyra would peer upward, seeing the shimmering spires of the Cathedral…the same one’s she used to look upon daily with such pride….

Gasps would be heard from the square as someone ran in to alert the Clergy of what had transpired. Crimson staining the pristine stone, Bishop Johannes Moorwhelp rushed to the fallen figure, whom he discovered was barely breathing. Her garments stained, tattered and body bruised, the Dwarf sent for his temple guards and they carried the battered woman into the Cathedral. Tending to her injuries, Tyra was in a catatonic state. Rumors had abound about the sinister underbelly of Stormwind City and here was clear evidence of its continued existence. Days passed before Tyra finally awoken to strange surroundings, her eyes wide with terror and remained silent. As she wandered about the medical quarters and the cathedral, she avoided the dwarf and the priests as much as possible as they tried to find out her identity. The various marks on her form indicated several Noble Houses, each though were crudely X’d out. This, along with the deep indentations on her wrists indicated she was former property. Additionally, they found it odd that she sported an odd eye-shaped sigil on one of her hands that was hot to the touch.

A debate began to rage within some of the priesthood on what to do with her,  many opting to release her back onto the streets. Bishop Moorwhelp, however, knew that such actions would surely end in her death and he advocated for an alternative, to give her the choice to join the Church and the College of the Canons. Before this choice could be given though, they first needed to have her open up and help would come from an unsuspecting place. The recent Anointed Dame Devilina Pureheart was busy in the Cathedral kitchens and as she brought food to the Medical Ward, she noticed the Kaldorei in a corner of the room. Despite her matted locks and withdrawn appearance, Dame Pureheart recognized her immediately. “*Miss Tyragonfal!*” She yelled happily and would run up the trembling woman who promptly would scream out in fear and dove under the bed. Dame Pureheart blinked and would easily crawl under the bed with her, unsure why the woman feared her so, she offered the Kaldorei a cookie, which she quickly took and ate, still glaring suspiciously at the Gnome.

As Tyra slowly ate the kitten-shaped cookie, she stared at the cheerful little Knight. Having been years since she set eyes on her, there would be a long pause of silence until she looked into the gnome’s eyes…and recognized that sparkle of both mischief and love. “*De..Devilina*?” Tyra would utter out, her voice still weak. The last time she had seen the Dame was as a tiny child as she handed her off to the Ex-Templare and now here she was…an adult and a Knight of the Silver Hand. They would spend the next few hours catching up, Bishop Moorwhelp would notice their bond and join them in their reminiscing. He at first found it hard to believe that Tyra was a former High Inquisitor of the Caelestis Templare, until he recalled the sigil on her hand. Now knowing her name and a little on who she was, the Bishop tried to get Tyra to open up more, but still only received brief, vague responses. As the months went by though and Tyra being free from the chaotic underbelly of Stormwind, the years of trauma slowly were sheared away and a trust slowly built between the Bishop and Kaldorei.

### **Chapter Twelve: Into the Mountains**

Months had now passed since the woman had come to the Church and one morning Moorwhelp presented her with the Codex of Scripture, which she curiously took. Spoken words were still few and far between, but as she read the Wisdom of the Holy Light, her condition would improve more rapidly. The virtues, teachings and scriptures formed a foundation that Tyra would begin to build her life back up from. Bishop Moorwhelp became her mentor through this, in addition to Lady Jadelia Naldrion, Dame Pureheart and countless others. After two years of care and study, Tyra went to Moorwhelp and asked to be formally inducted into the College and begin the path to priesthood. There was one issue though…Tyra was not a priest, she was a druid. Even though her drudaic powers were gone…she still could not wield the Light. Devastated that she could not become a priestess, Bishop Moorwhelp offered her an alternative path…to work as a Legate for the Church and build Diplomatic relations with specific areas the Church had an interest in. It was during this time that Bishop Moorwhelp ascended in his role in the church and now became Archbishop Alonsus Secundus.

The first region that Tyra was assigned to was the dilapidated Kingdom of Alterac. It had been years since she had travelled North and with a member of the Clergy to accompany her, they both set out to the ice-capped mountains of Alterac. This journey would have its…moments, a leaky boat owned by the Bishop Moorwhelp stalled their travels for a few days until it could be repaired and after a week’s journey, they arrived at snowed-in ruins of this former Kingdom…which was still inhabited by a group of Lordaeronians, their ruler was Kormed Wolfheart. While welcoming to the two of them, as their meeting regarding establishing a Diocese in Alterac went on, the hostilities began to rise. Tyra could see that this was a sensitive subject, especially their wariness of individuals from the South telling them what to do. In the end, this meeting ended with both parties respectively parting ways…more attempts could be done in the future. Returning to Stormwind, discouraged that her first role was not a success, His Holiness gave her some words of encouragement and next assigned her to accompany him to meetings of the Grand Alliance and other diplomatic engagements.

It was here that Tyra, still having a stutter in her voice, was able to build some confidence as she helped bridge a gap between His Holiness’ message and those they met with. Over time, she learned how to understand the perspectives of these various groups and see the good in them, even if some would be considered cautious or even dangerous to approach.  Over time, she increased the positive relations the Church had with many organizations and spread the word of the Holy Light to them. She also began working on a side project, translating the various Codexes that the Church used daily, into Darnassian. Tyra wanted more of her people to learn of the virtues, and the structure they offered, not wanting to displace their faith in Elune, but build upon it.

### **Chapter Thirteen: A City in the Clouds**

As Tyra was working on these projects, His Holiness approached her with a new assignment. There had long been a desire for the Church to establish a Diocese in Dalaran, but resistance from the Magocracy of such efforts was almost borderline hostile in some instances. With such resistance, his Holiness was skeptical, but wanted Tyra to make the attempt at building relations with Dalaran, specifically the Magus Senate to see if this could happen.

Nervously, Tyra travelled to the floating city. Having never been here before, she stared up at the magnificent violet spires and was taken back by the intense, magical presence that seemed to radiate from everything, even the flowerpots were magical! While her curiosity was gnawing at her, she had business to conduct. After getting lost several times through the winding streets and spires, she finally found the office of the Chancellor of the Magus Senate, Damon Halliwell. After brief introductions, she discussed what purpose His Holiness had in sending an envoy to Dalaran. Chancellor Halliwell was also skeptical that a Diocese would be allowed, but would allow Tyra to make reports to the Magus Senate and see if relations could take root.

Upon the evening of Tyra’s first Magus Senate meeting, she looked over her brief speech, but it then struck her…She’d not given a speech in public for many years. A sense of dread would shudder throughout her form, but in taking a breath, she calmed herself enough and travelled to the meeting location. Surrounded by strangers, Tyra hid herself in the back until it was her time to be called up. Feeling their eyes upon her, she approached and began to speak…though her anxiety was evident from her stuttered-out speech:

*“G-good evening, my name is T-tyragonfal. The Archbishop has sent me to Dalaran to work with S-senate leaders with three main goals in mind. F-first, to eventually install a Bishop of D-dalaran. S-secondly, by r-request of the Magus s-senate...to establish a  group of priests to help sniff out corruption...as defined by the Laws of Dalaran... L-lastly, the Clergy of S-stormwind is prepared to work with the...M-magus Senate in a Campaign of its c-choice. As Envoy I will be r-residing in the city and b-be assisting the Senate as a t-trained medic. I'm...I'm l-looking f-forward to working with you all.”*

Taking a deep breath, Tyra could feel the glares from some of the Senators upon her, though there was silence for several moments until Speaker of the Senate, Zanbor Emerson smiled at Tyra, informing her that the Foreign Ministry would be in contact with her soon. Staying in one of the upstairs rooms of Legerdemain, she spent much of her off-time exploring the vast libraries of knowledge that Dalaran was famous for. After a few days, she was contacted by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Meriahm Lausten to come to her office to talk over tea. Over the course of this meeting, the two’s friendship would begin to take root. It was agreed that for the next Senate meeting, His Holiness should come himself to talk to the Senate regarding the establishment of this Diocese.

Once again Tyra, with His Holiness in tow, would travel to the Magus Senate Meeting After a brief introduction, Tyra stepped aside and let Alonsus take the floor. The hostilities, especially from Senator DeVin, towards the idea of a Diocese in Dalaran were intense and for the time being, the matter was referred to the Senate’s Inner Council. Weeks of discussions, hinted at with threats of Tyra to be careful walking on the outskirts of Dalaran and a lone…exploding cupcake in the Envoys face at a particularly heated meeting, made her ongoing role as an Envoy extremely stressful. What helped ease this though was the growing friendships she made with those in the Magus Senate. Spending the evenings talking with them helped build up her confidence and she even began attending their weekly lessons on magic.

### **Chapter Fourteen: A Long-Buried Secret Awakened**

It was during the course of these evening she began to talk with the Minister of Justice,  Gehlnarine Liridian. As they spoke, he noticed there was something off about Tyra, though he couldn’t quite figure it out. One night as they spoke in private he would bring this up and it was here she slowly revealed what had occurred in the Deadwind Crypts so many years ago and the construct she watched be created. After several more drinks, she also revealed that a part of her lay within the dormant being. Fascinated and also disturbed, knowing that having a part of yourself separated for such a long period of time must be taking a toll on her he asked if he could help her in making herself whole once more. Nervously, she agreed and on another evening, they met in the long abandoned crypts. Taking him to the mausoleum where she left the construct, they cracked it open and upon peering in, Tyra was shocked to see that the construct had not deteriorated at all since she left her there. Walking about it, Gehlnarine looked at the Kaldorei construct, fascinated by the craftsmanship, the runes carved into her…and the fact that it was still in workable condition. As he brought his hand against her arm though…the construct’s obsidian eyes would open and silently stare at the two of them. The runes, pulsating a lich-fire blue, the bound construct would not move and simply observed as they prepared for the ritual.

Tyra watched the construct, a sadness and heaviness in her heart as just seeing this being brought back the painful memories of her past. The connection between them was evident though…and she could feel herself…almost yearning to be a part of her and join that missing piece of herself. Gehlnarine, watching, cautioned Tyra to stay back. The construct’s runes would begin to turn a crimson red…and Tyra remembered that this only happened when a soul was being consumed. Keeping her distance, Gehlnarine placed a shield around the construct to prevent any…mishaps from happening. This was far riskier than originally thought and he discussed with Tyra ending the construct’s existence…but looking at it, Tyra shook her head “*No…I cannot e-end this…creature’s life, I…we don’t know what pur…purpose this being was made for…but my heart tells me killing it will only make matters worse.*” Nodding in reluctant agreement, Gehlnarine equipped himself with a crystal in one hand, and Tyra’s hand in the other and began to forge a connection with the construct…and search in the sea of souls for Tyra’s. Screams of agony filled the mausoleum as he searched…and finally, he could see within the construct a…golden bird fluttering about amongst the souls. Realizing this was what they were searching for, using his soulmancer abilities, he would try to grab onto the bird and pull it from the construct. An ethereal growl would emit from the construct though, not wanting to let go of this golden bird, it began to fight back.

Over the course of several hours, the exhausted Gehlnarine finally was able to pull the fragmented soul into the crystal, but as he did…not all of it would be absorbed, a fragment of Tyra’s being would travel back into the construct. With a frustrated sigh, he turned to Tyra “*The only way to make you whole once more…is to end this specimen's life…*” Shaking her head, Tyra was adamant on keeping her alive “*I w-will figure out in time what to do with her, for now she will remain hid...hidden here from society*.” With most of what was taken from Tyra now residing in the crystal, Gehlnarine finished the ritual, holding the crystal out, Tyra took hold of it, feeling a warmth that grew and grew within her very soul. Exhaling, as the ritual concluded, she felt herself stronger, both mentally, physically…and perhaps even spiritually. Realizing they were being watched by the construct, Tyra looked upon it with heavy sadness and said, her voice strongly echoing out “*I am sorry for what has happened to you…to all of you in there. I promise I will find a way to bring you peace…*” The construct just stared, understanding, but not able to respond, it’s runes now returning to the lich-fire blue, Gehlnarine looked to Tyra “*We should go. This place…it is not safe for mortals.”* Nodding again, they travelled back to Dalaran and that evening, Tyra had the most restful sleep she had had in years.

### **Chapter Fifteen: A Sanctified Revelation**

Over the course of several weeks, Tyra slowly re-adjusted to her restored-self. All that knew her in Dalaran attributed her newfound confidence, strength and lack of nervousness to just becoming more socially active. The stuttering had, for the most part, come to an end and now she was able to better articulate herself to the Magus Senate and push back a bit against their opposition to a Diocese in Dalaran. Working with Foreign Minister Lausten, they would develop amendments to the Code of Laws of the Magocracy of Dalaran in regards to religion. This ‘Religion Bill’ would pass in the Senate and opened the door for a Diocese to be forged in Dalaran. With this step now taken, Tyra and His Holiness would host lessons on the virtues in the city to educate the populace on the Church of the Holy light and within the Council of Bishops, the matter of choosing a Bishop for Dalaran began.

With her work effectively done, Tyra prepared to return to Stormwind. As a mark of appreciation for the hours and dedication she performed for the citizens of Dalaran, the Magus Senate would make her an honorary Wizard of the Violet Order of Dalaran and also issued her an apartment within one of the violet spires. Deeply honored by this, she thanked the Magus Senate and now knew she would have a place outside of Stormwind’s cities walls, should the need ever arise.

Returning to the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind, a stark contrast to the magically vibrant life of Dalaran, it was here Tyra was reminded of the fact she was…not a priest. While she continued to be of service to the citizens of Stormwind through her medicinal knowledge, surgery and additional physical healing techniques, she slowly grew frustrated as she could not serve those coming for help like her brethren could. Every night she began to pray to the Light for forgiveness and guidance. Attending liturgies and Council of Bishop meetings, she fought the urge to develop a jealousy to her brethren, seeing the amazing work they could do. All the while for her, this door remained closed.

Late one evening as Tyra finished her evening devotionals and was returning to her quarters, a scream would echo upstairs, followed by the sound of heavy plated footsteps. Rushing from the dormitory with others, as Tyra exited next to the entrance to the sacred crypts, she would nearly be tossed aside as a group of Death Knights ran downstairs. Pursued by several Paladins, a fight would ensure as the Death Knights would attempt to desecrate several of the tombs and raise the corpses into undeath. As Tyra attempted to tend to the wounded, equipped only with a simple maul, she would hear an unholy growl come from the side, turning, she stared in horror as one of the hulking behemoths would start to charge at her. Knelt on the ground, Tyra’s voice screamed out to the Light for protection and in that instance…a warmth filled her body and from the palms of both of her hands…A golden ray of Light would be produced, shielding her…and the individual she was tending to, from the Death Knights attack.

The sudden surge of energy would almost immediately drain the Kaldorei though, collapsing and falling unconscious, the battle would continue until the Death Knights escaped. Many had witnessed the miracle though and upon awakening, Tyra would be nearly dragged to His Holiness to discuss what had happened. Here…she faced her first test, His Holiness demanded Tyra try to replicate what she had done. Even in her weakened state, Tyra would concentrate and…though extremely faint, a golden light formed once more in her palms. Satisfied, His Holiness turned to Father Kýriel Disario, and asked if he could take on Tyragonfal as a student. Blinking, at first Tyra did not understand what His Holiness meant. Looking at her, he said warmly “*You must become a student before you can be ordained, Tyragonfal.*” Her eyes widening, Tyra stuttered out in shock “*Or…Ordination? Does that mean?*” His Holiness smiled, seeing the tears form in Tyra’s eyes “*That you can take the steps to becoming a Priestess, yes my dear*.” Falling to her knees, Tyra began to weep with purejoy…She would finally get to serve the Church, the Light…and the people she loved every day as a Priestess.

### **Chapter Sixteen: A Path to Truth**

With the Path to Ordination now beginning…Tyra would soon learn that becoming a Priestess of the Light would not be an easy task. While she was able to cast the Light now…she still needed to learn to master it’s flow, intensity, etc. and not accidently burn someone with the Light’s grace when trying to heal them. Father Kýriel and His Holiness would be critical in this instruction and over many months she would rise from an acolyte, to a novice and then as Sister Tyra. It was at this point that her trials would begin on not just the three virtues, but her knowledge of the Church, and putting the virtues to action and not just memorization.

It was as a Deacon of the College that one of Tyra’s first challenges would arise. A sect of Scarlets named the Army of the Truthful had begun to cause chaos and havoc in the city. Their hateful propaganda and violent tactics was something not unfamiliar to Tyra, but now as a Priestess of the Light, she contributed to the efforts to try and  neutralize this threat before it escalated. One evening in the Cathedral as Tyra finished refreshing the candles, a woman would come in, beaten and was acting strangely. As she tended to her injuries, any time specific words were mentioned, the woman went into an absolute frenzy and had to be calmed down. From observing her actions, Tyra deduced that the word light was one of these triggering words. Through counsel and speaking to her without judgment, the Kaldorei learned from the woman’s testimony that her memory was…not right, she recalled being in Red Ridge, music, an enclosed space and the phrase “*Great is the Light*” , knowing this was a key phrase of the Army of the Truthful, it peaked Tyra’s curiosity. Upon repeating this phrase, the woman became hostile, lunged at the priestess and had to be pulled off by the Temple Guards and restrained until she calmed down once again.

Over the course of several weeks, more individuals like this would come to the Cathedral, all displaying similar temperance and stories. Each of their stories offered clues and soon enough Tyra had a hunch…and would test this out on the most recent victim. Gently, she would check their mind and would find…nothing wrong. Confused, she turned to the Library to find out on alternative, non-invasive ways one’s mind can be altered and that is when she stumbled upon Hypnosis.  Going to the lead Inquisitors of the Church, she presented this information to them, and a plan was forged to set up an undercover operation in Red Ridge to see where the Truthful were taking these individuals. Several days passed with no results, but soon, the individual that was sent did not report back and was last seen in Lakeshire.

Traveling to Lakeshire, Tyra and several Inquisitors resided in the inn under disguise. Observing the moments and asking discreetly about the missing operative. A nearby house became a place of interest and Tyra, taking the persona of a Clergy member looking for donations, knocked on the door. A young man answered and despite seeing a young woman enter…there was no one else visible in the house. Introducing herself, she would make casual conversation as her eyes scanned the room. A large, ornate trunk caught her eye. Asking about it, she saw the man’s pupils dilate and begin expressing subtle signs of fear. Smiling, Tyra thanked him for his time and returned to the Inn. Knowing that he was spooked, later on that evening they and several guards barged into the cottage. The man viciously would attack the guards, but would quickly subdue him. Immediately, Tyra turned to the trunk and after breaking open the lock, the eyes of a terrified woman greeted her back. Carefully, she was pulled from the trunk and tended to. After rendering aid, Tyra curiously would look about the house and found a red, leatherbound music box. As she opened it and the tune played,  later learning this was “*O Thanagor*” a scream would be heard as the rescued woman dived in the corner. Quickly she closed it and put it in her satchel. Despite turning the cottage upside down, the missing operative was not located. Questioning of the arrested Truthful member resulted in no further information and he was sent to the Stockades.

The Churches Inquisition would continue to investigate the whereabouts of the missing inquisitor and Tyra resumed her lessons and services in the Cathedral. Soon, Tyra would meet a dashing young man named Siegmund, he seemed to take a particular interest in the priestess and they would build a friendship. Unbeknownst to her, Siegmund was one of the Inquisitors of the Army of the Truthful and revenge was sought for the priestess interrupting a critical operation. Siegmund sought Tyra’s advice on ecclesiastical matters and one evening as she and him sat out in the Cathedrals gardens, she felt a slight prick on her leg, attributing it to the nearby bushes, she thought nothing of it…until her sight began to distort and she would quietly fall unconscious. Awakening, the first thing that struck Tyra was the cold chill, seeing she was in a stone-walled basement, she tried to move and found herself shackled. Looking around, in the corner, chained to the wall was the missing operative. Trying to get her attention, a loud creak and several sets of heavy footsteps would be heard descending downward. What caught her eyes was the gleaming, red armor and tabards of the Scarlet Crusade. Growing silent, one would open up a music box as he brought his knee onto Tyra’s chest, his weight pressing painfully on her ribs as he produced a dagger, bringing it to her throat “*What is your purpose serving the false Light, why do you follow lies? You only feed lies to the innocent! Shame on you, taint!*” As he would stand, Tyra would let out a sigh of relief, only to scream out as he slashed the dagger across her abdominal region.

The Scarlet would smirk “*The screams only enhance the music, Brothers.*” Chuckling, he would then stab her square in the abdomen, crimson ichor soaking into her robes as she began to bleed out. The other Crusaders hummed to the tune as the Kaldorei would cry out in pain, the one standing over her booming out “*Great is the Light!*” The others responded, yelling out the phrase themselves. Gripping her abdomen, they proceeded to question her about the Churches resources and defenses. Growling out to them, she would agree to say what she knew..if they release their prisoner. Agreeing, the questions were intense, though  each time she would misdirect them to areas that were of no great importance to the Church or were in fact heavily guarded. Satisfied by what information was given, a priestess was brought down and forced Tyra and the Prisoner to drink a red-tinged liquid. Upon consuming it, their minds began to fog and would slowly fade to unconsciousness. Most of the memories of their time here would fade, but one of the Crusaders knelt over Tyra and would carve out the Lordaeron crest on her left hip, letting the blood flow down to further coat her in red. After several hours, Tyra and the Prisoner would awaken on the outskirts of Redridge, surrounded by wildlife attracted to the scent of blood, looking down, Tyra saw that her abdomen had been cut..and bandaged over, along with the brand carved into her hip. The phrase “*Great is the Light*” would echo in Tyra’s mind.  Both of them would scream out, attracting nearby hunters, who would assist in getting the two back to Stormwind.

Once rescued, the attacks on the Church did not stop. The Army of the Truthful began to resort to bombings within Stormwind city. On one occasion, as Tyra was walking with an arrested Truthful, an explosion rang out from under the bridge, sending the Kaldorei flying into the canals. While Tyra suffered from severe burns, she was fortunate as both the arrested Truthful and several guards lost their lives in the attack. As she stayed in the Medical Wing of the Cathedral, Tyra received a letter…and a rose, from Siegmund.

*Dearest Legate Tyragonfal,*

*I am glad to hear that your recovery is going well. You'll be walking soon, I hope? That would be grand - after all, it is hard to speak to you when you’re surrounded by those who would love to keep me away. Well, until you get better, I hope this rose cheers you up.*

*Siegmund*

Soon enough, Tyra would recover from her injuries and would resume her pursuit of the Truthfuls. Over time, their presence waned and soon became a distant memory, though the impact they would have on Stormwind would continue to be felt for years to come.

It was during this time that the Council of Bishops finally elected a Bishop for the Diocese of Dalaran, Bishop Edrane Riddle. However, before Bishop Riddle could be confirmed, the Forsaken would murder him and at a Council of Bishops meeting, his headless form would be delivered directly to the council, much to everyone’s horror. After the memorial service in Dalaran for Bishop Riddle, Tyra was distraught and went to the Legerdemain and here she would meet an interesting new Senator to the Magus Senate. What struck her about him was the obsidian-eyes and stated his name was Senator SaDiablo. The name…the eyes…these features seemed familiar about this individual, but with how fogged Tyra’s memory was, she did not make the connection. Senator SaDiablo would also introduce Tyra to his apprentice, Senator Elizabeth DeMolane. The woman’s violet-tinged eyes also made an impression on the Kaldorei. The three of them would form a friendship and as Tyra resumed her studies and trials within the Church, she occasionally made the time to return to Dalaran to check in on them. Soon, a new Bishop of Dalaran was appointed, Bishop Sabrina Dawnstrider and was successfully confirmed.

With Tyra’s work in Dalaran now fully completed, she would finish the last of her trials and soon was approved to receive her ordination exam. One late evening later, Tyra traveled to Northshire. After years of study and service to the Church, Tyra stood before her Ordination examiners. Bishop Melchiz Tzedeck, Bishop Popohnia Fitzerhernn, Bishop Koah Johnson and with Bishop Niklos Adamant observing, the exam would last several hours, with questions such as her interpretation of the Light, other deities and specifically questions regarding Elune . Tyra strived to answer each question to the best of her abilities. At the end, the Bishops met privately and debated for some time, before returning to her and letting her know that she had passed her Ordination!  At the next Liturgy, Tyra took the proper rites and obligations and became a Reverend Mother of the Church.

### **Chapter Seventeen: A Forgotten Sword Reforged**

Now as Mother Tyragonfal, her duties moved away from being a diplomat and now focused on the Cathedral of the Holy Light and assisting those that came for healing, guidance and other services. It was during this time that Tyra learned that there had been a sighting of the Caelestis Templares in Northrend…of all places. Speaking with His Holiness, she told him  about this Holy Order and her past with them. She also brought up that she anticipates they will be making their way back to Stormwind eventually. After thinking for some time, he instructs Tyra to go to Northrend and invite their leader to come speak with them. Traveling to Valiance Keep with several guards to see this for herself, there she would find Grandmaster Azrock and several Templare holding a meeting within the keep. Upon seeing the…still considered renegade…Inquisitor, they immediately drew their swords. Fully expecting this reaction, her guards stood in front of her defensively. Tyra eventually talked to them to bring down their swords and that the Archbishop would like to speak with their Grandmaster in Stormwind. While suspicious and hesitant, Grandmaster Azrock agreed. It was at this point as Tyra looked out at those in attendance that one of their Battle Templare took her attention, a woman with long blonde hair and a fiery gaze…Tyra would stare at her for a moment and realize that it was Syprus. Content that she had survived into adulthood and now was serving her order well, Tyra chose not to approach her and put her at risk with her order.

Several nights later, His Holiness and Grandmaster Azrock met and while Tyra was not privy to the conversation, at the end they brought her in to discuss what had occurred in the past. Explaining her reasoning, His Holiness was deeply disturbed at even the thought of a child being beaten, let alone such an act happening on the Cathedral stairs. The Grandmaster defended his Order's actions and acknowledged that Devilina, now Dame Pureheart, would be considered a Penitente of the Order…and no longer a heretic, but would be closely monitored for any signs of recurrent corruption. Regarding Tyragonfal’s actions, she would not be declared a heretic as Azrock could see that she was serving the Light and  did not want to have soured relations with the Church right from the start.

### **Chapter Eighteen: An Exile Forgiven & Visions of Destruction**

With the worries of being hunted by the Caelestis Templares now behind her, Tyragonfal resumed her duties. Over the course of a few months, Tyra began to notice that there was disagreement happening within the Church, specifically against His Holiness and the Council of Bishops. These ecclesiastical disagreements would become a focus of His Holiness in trying to quell the anger over the running of the church and because these issues were designated for those higher in the hierarchy of the Church, Tyra was left mostly in the dark. It was at this time that several druids came to Tyra regarding a new source of activity in Felwood. Reports were that several renegade Illidari had taken residence there. While being way out of her purview, an internal feeling was urging her to investigate this. Sighting of Illidari had not been reported since the second opening of the Dark Portal and not this close to civilizations, so this had Tyra curious. Asking for His Holiness’ blessing for travel, being so distracted with the ongoing issues the Church was having, he agreed, though the details of such travel didn’t fully make their way to him till later on.

Traveling on her own to Felwood, she spoke with several of the Kaldorei residing there regarding the rumors and this led her to the outskirts of Jadenar. As Tyra stood outside a corrupted Moonwell, she heard a swift sound behind her…and in turning around, stood before two towering, what she first thought were Kaldorei, but then noticed the green-fel fire of their eyes under their bandages. Nearly falling into the Moonwell, one would quickly, but gently grab her before the priestess fell into the corrupted waters. They were not happy to see someone come into their territory, but could tell there was something…different about Tyra, her garments did not reflect a Priestess of Elune…and this had them also curious. Sitting with them under the fel-corrupted trees, she learned more about the Illidari and that they had come from hiding as the Legion was coming…. Tyra expressed her desire to meet more of them and they told her that they would need to talk with the others before granting such permissions. Before leaving, she gave each of them a tin of cookies though, which after tasting…greatly enjoyed.

Returning back to Stormwind, several weeks went by before she received notification that her request to meet more of this small sect of Illidari would be granted, upon one condition, she must be blindfolded on the journey into where they were staying and on the way out, primarily for her protection, but also to keep their home a secret. Agreeing to the terms, Tyra set back out for Felwood and meet the two Illidari she interacted with previously. Sighing as she was blindfolded, as she was lead down what became winding, steep paths, the sounds she would hear…demonic noises and otherwise, would make her begin to have second thoughts on this decision. As the blindfold came off, after her eyes adjusted, she would find herself in a darkened cavern with a small number of Illidari residing there. Almost immediately, one in the far back got her attention. The female Illidari’s features…seemed familiar, but Tyra shook it off and began to talk with each of them, offering cookies, which they gladly accepted. It was at this point she came to one that grabbed her attention earlier, but this one seemed extremely reluctant to speak to her. As she tried to avoid Tyra, one of the Illidari snapped at her “*Tae’fanel, quit being so skittish, she is just here to understand us.*” As the woman’s name was spoken, Tyra’s legs immediately gave way “*T-tae…’fanel?*” the priestess weakly muttered out, the other Illidari quickly turned as Tyra fell to the ground. Her eyes in shock as Tae would glare at the priestess for some time before nodding and approaching Tyra.

Looking upon the fel-scarred, tattooed form of her sister, it would take a long time for words to formulate again. For a moment Tyra was taken back to the forests of Ashenvale and watched as Tae was being dragged away by the Satyr. Caught in the moment, Tyra would wail out “*Tae’Fanel!*” and fell to her sister's feet, sobbing as centuries-old trauma would violently resurface. Tae would see how hard she had taken her sister's abduction “*I…t-thought you were dead…we all thought you were dead!*” Tyra growled out as the grief turned to anger. Tae would offer her hand and help her up, sitting, Tae sighed and began to explain what had happened after she was taken by the Satyr. Once exiting the portal, Tae found herself in a part of the twisting nether, demons and Illidari surrounding the Kaldorei. One of the Illidari would approach her and give her a choice…to serve or perish. While normally a choice is made prior to this journey, because Tae was now in their realm, she would become a liability unless she committed to service. Reluctantly, she agreed and slowly would be transformed into an Illidari herself and would remain in service until the incident at Black Temple, being captured…imprisoned and then breaking free… only to end up in felwood.

Tyra listened, the sadness within her continuing to ripple out. Tae, still knelt down beside her, and took her hands. “*Falore…You have borne the burden of my nativity and recklessness for too long…I have suffered for this, and you should no longer.*” Tyra would exhale and embrace Tae, who would remain stoically still as her sister wept over her. The other Illidari respected their privacy as the two continued to converse, Tyra catching Tae up on what had happened with her. “*It seems…your life has not been easy as well Falore… I hope one day I can make up for what you suffered*.”

Exhaling, Tyra would approach the commander of these renegade Illidari “*If I am to leave here…Tae will be coming with me.*” Her tone of voice altered to one that was almost authoritative. The Illidari would respond with a snarl, baring his fangs at the Priestess “*We have shown you the utmost hospitality, even reuniting you with your lost kin…and now you wish to potentially expose her…and us to those that seek to hunt us down?!*” His voice would boom across the cavern, sending bats fluttering about. Tyra would remain unwavering though “*It has been over six hundred years since I last saw her and all that time I assumed she was dead, I will not lose her again!*” Just as the two were about to launch into combat, Tae stepped between them. “*I have a say in this…and I wish to go back with my Sister.*” The other Illidari glared at Tae “*She knows nothing of what we have endured, the burden we bear, nothing! How can she protect you?*” Tyra sighed and at that moment got an idea “*...You mentioned being shown a vision as one of the first steps in your transformation…Show me, so that I may understand better and help protect my Sister.*” Tae snapped a glare at Tyra “*No…It could kill you Falore, or drive you mad…Please, let me negotiate this.*” The Illidari Commander would look at Tyra, surprised by her suggestion. “*If you survive…I will grant your sister passage to go back with you, but she can never return here*.” Exhaling deeply “*Show me this vision then…and may the Light protect me.*”

Nodding, the Illidari commander motioned for the others to gather round, mostly for amusement, but also to restrain or cut down the Priestess should things go awry. Looking at Tae, Tyra would take a deep breath and stare up at the Commander “*I am ready…*” The Illidari would grip Tyra’s head, bringing his forehead to hers and suddenly she would nearly be thrusted backwards as scene after scene of the Burning Legion, endless in number, would be seen destroying countless worlds. Unbeknownst to Tyra, the Commander would hold himself back slightly, the sheer fact Tyra would agree to this without hesitation was proof enough for him. Light-stained tears would run down the Kaldorei’s face as she continued to watch as entire civilizations would burn and its civilians slaughtered or transformed into horrific beings.

Satisfied, the Commander released Tyra and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing. Tae rushed to her side and first inspected the priestess for any injuries. “*Falore, talk to me…Can you hear me…*” Turning to Tae and regained her composure, she nodded and looked around to the fel-flame eyes staring down at her “*I…understand a bit better now, the sacrifices you all have made to fight the Burning Legion…I am sorry that this path is one that you have been persecuted for by my kin…and others.*” Laughing, they help the trembling priestess up. “*Remember, Priestess, we chose this path, this sacrifice, to save those we love and will continue to do so without hesitation. While others may not understand, we do not expect them to…But we are grateful for your kindness.*” Tyra nodded “*...So can I take Tae back with me?*” The commander nodded. “*Excellent, I have something to give you as well…*” Pulling from her satchel, she would present an ornate book written in Darnassian, translated to ‘Tomus Plenarium’ or the Codexes of the Church of the Holy Light. “*I know that the Light and Church itself you may find abhorrent, but this is a book of the teachings that have guided my life…It is translated into Darnassian and I hope you may find some wisdom within it.*” The Commander stared at the Priestess as she handed over this ornate book, holding back his opinions he smiled “*You have my word that this will be placed in our library for any curious in the Light to peruse through*.”

Looking to Tae’Fanel, Tyra would once again be blindfolded and reaching the outskirts of Jadenar, the two Illidari guardsmen would say their ados to them before heading back. Tyra, staring at Tae for a moment, soon realized how challenging it was going to be to get Tae to Stormwind without detection. “*Sister, we are going to travel south to Ratchet and take a boat to Booty Bay…they tend to not ask questions. Once we get to the Eastern Kingdoms, Dame Pureheart has a small cottage on the far outskirts of her lands, we can put you there and you’ll be well taken care of. If what I was shown is true…I pray that Stormwind and others in the Alliance cast aside their judgements of you and your kin…and that you may see the splendors of the city without fear of reprisal*.”  Nodding, she sighed, not enjoying the fact she was putting her sister through more pain. It would take a week of careful travel before they reached the cottage in Elwynn. “*I will visit you each day Sister…please do not wander too far.*”

### **Chapter Nineteen: Consecrated to the Light**

Returning back to Stormwind, Tyra was greeted with the Church being in complete disarray. The budding conflicts that were evident before Tyra went on her pilgrimage, were now in full bloom.  Going to his Holiness, she was informed that the Council of Bishops had separated itself from the College of the Canons and wished for the Archbishop to retire, which he refused to do. As this conflict raged, many Priests would go to other Dioceses, leaving Stormwind with novices and no one to lead them. His Holiness would turn to Tyragonfal and state that because of the work she has done and because of the current need, he would be consecrating her as a Bishop and would be the Auxiliary Bishop of Stormwind to help his Holiness get a handle on the affairs in the city. In addition to Tyragonfal, Father Arganys and Mother Gwoviel Feifer would also be assigned as Auxiliary Bishops of Stormwind.

On the eve of her elevation, Tyra paced around nervously in her quarters. It had only been seven months earlier that she was Ordained and now she was becoming a Bishop and serve in the episcopal office of the Kingdom of Stormwind. Internally, she did not feel prepared for the duties and responsibilities she was about to direct her life to, but at the same time, she knew this service had to be done…Especially after what she had witnessed with the Illidari. A terrible threat was coming and this city would have an even greater need for spiritual guidance. Swallowing her fears, she would get dressed in the liturgical regalia and head upstairs.

After the ceremony, Tyragonfal, Arganys and Gwoviel would give blessings to the many that came to view their consecration and soon began her role as the Auxillary Bishop of Stormwind head-on. Her experiences in having lived in many societal structures of the city gave her a perspective that allowed her to help those in need more effectively. Each day she dedicated time to going to the parts of the city that suffered from the most poverty, Old Town and parts of the Mage District, to talk and build relations with the individuals residing there. Over time, she would get to know not just their troubles and issues, but also them as individuals. It was from these conversations that she learned there was trouble almost nightly in the Stormwind Graveyard.

Late one night, she would go to investigate these stories, and here she observed a group gathered that went by the name ‘The Porcelain Dolls’, led by an…interesting man named Squeedgy, Tyra would observe at first from the distance. The group was peculiar, but outwardly didn’t seem to be as dangerous as was being told to her. Slowly, she would talk with the members of the Dolls and despite her efforts, they would continue to perform mischievous and dangerous acts in and around the city. It was also this time that a group of Druids would assist Tyra with the Dolls and over time, they faded into obscurity. This would not be the last group and definitely not the end of chaos that happened almost nightly in the city. Through her efforts, she became good friends with Captain Atles of the Stormwind Guard, bringing him weekly reports on observed crime, mischief or issues observed so that they could be handled. It was also at this time that she joined His Holiness to Stormwind’s House of Nobles and was introduced to the parliamentary side of Stormwind. The sheer amount of paperwork and endless debate was difficult for her to follow at first, but through moderate attendance, she began to understand the proceedings and began to advocate for more to be done for the poorest residences. At the same time, she had to learn to get over trepidations on the Nobility because of her past experiences, they also were under her purview and she strived to get to know them.

It was during one of these House of Nobles meetings that Tyra thought of an idea, what if she was to take on some land ownership and utilize this property for the good of Stormwinds Citizens. After a lengthy paperwork process and some minor debate, the Kingdom of Stormwind would grant Tyragonfal a small parcel of land, ironically, right next to Dame Pureheart’s farmstead. Together, both Dame Pureheart and Tyragonfal settled on a name for the joint lands, the Lumina' Auxilium-Adore Villa. With the land granted to Tyragonfal, Dame Pureheart began developing the lands. Tyragonfal had a vision for a Stormwind Pantry to be opened up in the Cathedral, and while her newly established lands would provide some sustenance, more was needed. Discussing this with His Holiness, Tyra devised an investment plan with Stormwind’s Businesses and Industries. With offers to invest, all these companies would need to agree to is to first, open up more positions that are accessible to those living in poverty. Secondly, to keep prices of key critical goods (basic foods, supplies, etc.) at a steady rate. Lastly, to donate a little each month to the Stormwind Food Pantry. While the church had some initial funds to start this venture, Tyra would go to each of the Noble houses and look for donations. Some being more generous than others, slowly a system would be developed within the Church and for many living in poverty in Stormwind, small changes were beginning to happen.

### **Chapter Twenty: An Underbelly of Chaos**

As these changes began to take effect in Stormwind, the Burning Legion would return and with the death of King Varian Wrynn, chaos would erupt within the city. As Stormwind would send its soldiers to the Broken Shore, Tyragonfal would offer them blessings. She also was charged with the task of giving the final rites as coffin after coffin returned for burial and would spend time consoling the grieving families, ensuring they would be supported during this time of enormous loss. Every day there was a service for fallen soldiers and for Tyra and the numerous other priests giving these rites and services, it was overwhelming. In order to get her mind off this constant flow of the departed, Tyra resumed taking time each day and going to Old Town to talk with the residents there. It had been a few months since she was last able to visit and immediately she noticed that crime was uptiking again. Several organizations had formed and were taking advantage of the chaos.

With the battles on the Broken Shore starting to plateau, Tyra began to focus on finding a way to slow down the rate of crime happening in parts of Stormwind. This also put a target on her back and soon one particular crime organization wished to see the Bishop silenced. Starting with orders to steal her staff, this then escalated to full-on assaults and assination attempts. In one particular instance, as Tyra was tending to a distraught citizen in the Pig and Whistle, she soon realized this was a trap for her and her guards. A battle ensued and just as it would look like they would take the Bishop captive, the Stormwind Guard would rush in and begin making arrests. While this put a temporary stop to some of the criminal activity, it would take many more months of working with the citizens themselves to help sway them from choosing such illicit activities, Tyra would instead offer them legal means of work and help some make a new life for themselves.

Just as things seemed to finally be calming down, Tyra would learn that her sister, Tae’fanel, would be caught up in one of these crime organizations. Almost immediately she stormed to Old Town, nearly bursting through the doors of the leader's base of operations, glaring at him. “*You will not be bringing Tae’fanel into this*.” The crime boss chuckled, lighting a cigar and puffing it in the Bishop’s face. “*Let me ask you this…Bishop, what have you done for your Sister, hmm? From what she has told me, you left her in the woods to live a mundane life.*” Tyra took a step back, glaring “*She has everything she needs on that property, what more could I give her?!*” With a loud burst of laughter, he would slam his fist on the table “*A life, Bishop…You have her locked like a caged animal…What kind of Life is that? I have given her the chance at one…She’s opened a bakery here in Old Town and is enjoying her new found freedom, a bit odd if you ask me for an Illidari…but she seems happy, Is that not what you want too?*” Grinning as Tyra was at a loss for words, a heavy sigh escaped her “*I…yes…I do want what is best for her, but if I learn she gets caught up in any of your nefarious nonsense*.” The old man’s smirk visible from the cloud of smoke in front of him “*You have my word…Bishop, that Bakery of hers is bringing in a steady stream of legal income anway. Now…if that’s all, leave before I take those pretty ears of yours as a trophy.*” Seeing the large shotgun in his lap, Tyra would sigh…This was not a battle to pick right now…but she had some ideas on making sure that their activities were met with a few more hurdles. Taking her concerns and ideas to the Stormwind Guard and SI:7, she decided it was best…and safest for them to handle these issues with crime in Old Town.

### **Chapter Twenty-One: An Incineration of Hope**

Returning back to her duties and paperwork in the Cathedral, many months would go by working on the same cycle of issues. She soon learned that the Forsaken were launching an attack on Darkshore as a result of the recent appearance of Azerite after the fall of the Burning Legion. Monitoring this situation, one evening a frantic message would come, the Forsaken, led by Sylvanas was about to launch an attack on Teldrassil and evacuations were underway. Rushing to the Mage District, Tyragonfal would be ported to Darnassus. The Temple of Elune would be filled with individuals being evacuated, the sounds of panic and smell of smoke heavy in the air. As Tyra exited the Temple, the true gravity of the situation hit her…Everything was aflame. Without a thought of her own safety, she quickly rushed to the areas where the fire had already reached. Screams filling the air, Tyra would have no time to tend to the wounded, handing children to the Sentinels and escorting frantic citizens to the Temple, the heat and flames grew more intense.

Exiting one district and entering another, Tyra’s white robes were now blackened with ash as she continued to evacuate others. Slowly, it became harder and harder to breathe, looking back, she could not even see the Temple anymore and as her oxygen began to deplete, she eventually collapsed to the ground.  As Tyra laid there, embers would fall onto her face, searing her hair and skin. Her voice was hoarse, but she would cry out to the Light to please protect her and the others, the only response being the horrified screams that would sear deep into her mind. It was at that moment, she felt someone wrap their hands around her waist and hoist her back and through a portal...just as one of the emblazoned branches fell where she had laid. The badly burned Kaldorei looked up, seeing an unexpected face, Lord Arranax DeVin, shaking his head in disappointment at how reckless she had been, he silently walked away as Tyra was immediately tended to by others. Watching as Lord DeVin faded from view, darkness overtook her once again. It would be several days before she regained consciousness, the sounds and smells of her kin burning would be ingrained in her memory forever.

Once recovered, Tyra would work with the surviving Priestesses of Elune and numerous other Kaldorei to hold a memorial service in Stormwind for the departed. It was at this time she learned just how great the loss was and this would split open the still healing mental wounds from that terrible evening. Many nights she spent in His Holiness’ office, working through the trauma and learning to cope with such massive loss. These sessions would help bring some measure of peace and set her focus now on the survivors. An enormous task was now before her…resettling and bringing back some normalcy to the Kaldorei. Working with the survivors and various government bodies and Orders, Tyra helped in getting settlements established. At the same time, whole new issues arose in the city…Tyra learned that because of the huge influx of refugees, some were being taken advantage of by businesses and crime organizations. Additionally, others were being captured and sold as slaves. For months on end, she would try to balance the work needing to be done for the Church and also in protecting this highly vulnerable population. This began to take its toll on Tyra and through the advice of His Holiness, she would begin delegating some of these resettlement jobs to trusted Kaldorei and would rely heavily on the Stormwind  Guard to put an end to the slave and explotation.

It was during this time that Tyra would frequently return to Dalaran for brief moments of respite. Seeing Senator SaDiablo and Elizabeth again made her reminisce about ‘simpler’ times, though she began to grow a bit suspicious as to what the pair was up to. When talking with the obsidian-eyed senator and his apprentice, Tyra noticed that there was a darkness about the two, but not wanting to sour relations, kept it to herself. One day after a heavy afternoon of meetings, discussions and negotiations, Tyra went to her usual spot in Dalaran and found that both Senators were not there. This was unusual as they were never late and had even requested this meeting themselves. Inquiring with the Magus Senate, she learned that both Senator SaDiablo and Senator DeMolane had both…vanished. Their quarters were empty and any attempt to communicate to them through the Senate’s ring network came back with no response. With all the loss Tyra had gone through over the last few months, their disappearance was difficult to process and was disturbing…she prayed that they would be eventually found in good health. As a result of this, Tyra’s travels to Dalaran became less frequent and she would become more engaged with her work in Stormwind.

### **Chapter Twenty-Two: A Rekindled Flame**

Over a year had gone by since Tyra had been consecrated as the Auxiliary Bishop of Stormwind and one evening, His Holiness entered Tyra’s office. Starting with a casual conversation, the old dwarf spent some time admiring the many gadgets and mementos on her bookshelf before he turned to Tyra “*Your Grace, as you are well aware of, the Kingdom of Stormwind has been in a constant state of disarray, especially after the passing of King Wrynn, you and Bishops Arganys and Gwoviel have strived hard to bring stability, but I believe it is time again for a single Bishop of the Kingdom of Stormwind to lead the faithful, and you have more than proven you are up for the challenge. Additionally, I am needing to focus on matters of the Church as a whole and would also like you to oversee the College of the Canons.*” Tyra, whom would be casually listening, thinking this was another one of His Holiness’s stories would nearly choke on the pork bun she was eating. “*You mean to do what, your Holiness?!*” Her eyes widened as she quickly would clean off her desk of parchment, pork bun wrappers and some quacking duck figurine Dame Pureheart had left behind, she cleared her voice as he burst out laughing. Regaining her composure, she settled down, though her face was still reddened. “*I…I am honored you wish for me to take on these responsibilities, your Holiness…and that you have confidence in my abilities to lead during these troubling times*.” Nodding, the elderly dwarf almost glowed as he smiled at Tyra and for the next several hours they discussed the transition.

A week later, as the bells tolled from the steeples of the Cathedral, a Liturgy would be held. It was here that His Holiness announced he would be stepping down as the Chief Shepherd of the College of the Canons and that Tyragonfal would not only be taking over this position, but also would be consecrated as Bishop of the Kingdom of Stormwind. Compared to when Tyragonfal was first consecrated as Bishop, attendance to this would be minimal, many still away at war with the resurging Black Empire. Those in attendance though, including An'lyen Rosefeather would be witness to her consecration. His Holiness, gazing down at the knelt Tyragonfal would say:

*“Bishop Tyragonfal has served as my closest advisor since the days of the Court of Uther schism..She has the faculty, the reputation, and the piety to elevate the Diocese of Stormwind to heights that I could not.”*

Afterwards, with the full powers and responsibilities, Tyragonfal continued her work with the House of Nobles and other government bodies to advocate for changes to be made to develop more opportunities for the populace to rise themselves out from poverty. She knew that many of the houses had come into great wealth because of the Azerite, and these particular individuals she targeted for their support and investments. Change though, was slow and even with what holes in the fabric of society were being filled, it seemed every day new one’s developed or old ones spread. During this time, as she worked on training priests and paladins in the virtues, she still found the time to take daily walks about the city, finding it important that the Church was visible, even if the risks were high.

It was shortly after this encounter that Tyra’s attention would become focused on the matters within the Cathedral. Many priests and paladins were lost to the recent wars and the rate of new novices and squires had come to a trickle. Efforts to rebuild cohorts took precedence, along with issues regarding several of the new Kaldorei settlements. The days now consisted of tending to the spiritual stability of the Kingdom  and while incidents and general chaos continued within Stormwind, these matters were being effectively handled by the proper agencies.

During this time, Tyra also spent a great deal of time with His Holiness. From going on bi-weekly visits to McNibs, a burger chain in Stormwind with other members of the Clergy, to holding ‘Lamp Post Training’ in the Cathedral Square. These moments served as a break from the chaos that constantly was blooming within the city and at times, usually random times, His Holiness would impart a bit of wisdom and guidance to Tyra. On one of these days  as she was walking about Stormwind with Moorwhelp, she would see a familiar face. Nytella Silverrain, a druid and plagueshifter who has been her best friend for years but would periodically disappear and reappear again months…sometimes years later. She would join Tyra and Moorwhelp on their McNib adventures and cause tiny bits of mischief in Tyra’s life.

### **Chapter Twenty-Three: A Scarlet-Tinged Faith**

As the leaves began to showcase their autumn glow, Tyragonfal was in Northshire’s Library speaking to His Holiness when he would receive notification that a new sect of Scarlets had begun forming in the North. Led by their appointed High Abbott, Quintin Erickson, His Holiness took great interest in meeting with this sect's leader as they appeared to be showing progress in reclaiming portions of Lordaeron. The first summit between the two groups showed potential, but subsequent talks would start to break down communications. Tyra, in an effort to stabilize relations, would meet with the High Abbott and try to rebuild relations. Beyond His Holiness and Tyra’s efforts though, the city of Stormwind and other members of the Church would react harshly to the Scarlets, further fracturing relations. After several hostile interactions, with the Scarlets issuing threats and aggressiveness towards the Church and Stormwinds populace, His Holiness was forced to issue decrees against this sect of Scarlets and forbid their presence within Stormwind.

The Scarlets would then escalate their efforts of retaliation, at one point taking hostages and threatening to burn areas of Stormwind, Tyra would still make an effort with the High Abbott. Several of the Scarlets though would not take kindly to Tyra’s efforts and one evening, two of their Crusaders would enter Tyra’s office, just as she was about to turn in for the night. The two would completely destroy her office and beat Tyra severely, warning her to keep it secret, else her head would end up on a pike. Disturbed by this, she would remain silent for some time…until a meeting was organized with the various holy orders on what to do about this growing Scarlet threat. At this meeting a plan was developed to negotiate peace. Tyra…despite her previous experience, only gave warning to them that those travelling to the North to deliver this should all be humans as they do not take kindly to other races. At this point, Tyra removed the glamor that she had placed over herself to hide the bruising, shocking those in attendance and some began to argue on why they should even both trying to negotiate with such savages. Tyra calmly would respond with that despite what she suffered, this should not deter efforts to give a direct offer at peace.

The group that traveled to the North, despite finding some hostility, would be successful in delivering the agreement and came back unharmed. A meeting to discuss peace was held within the council chambers of Stormwind and while the meeting started off well, until the closing prayers. As the Chamberlain, appointed by His Holiness, walked around giving the closing prayers, he stood behind the High Abbott and in several swift motions, the Abbot of Landgren Abbey, Joseph Grant, would be assassinated and the High Abbott greatly wounded. Tyra, watching the proceedings would look on in horror as the High Abbot was rushed from the chambers, she would follow behind and try to offer aid, but the Crusaders guarding him would violently push back, accusing the Church of setting this all up to eliminate their leader. Tyra would crash to the ground and watch as any hope of peace with the Scarlets would perish. His Holiness, distraught over the betrayal from the Chamberlain, would retire to his chambers to think on the matter. Several days would pass and late one evening as she exited the Cathedral, a Paladin would approach, wearing no indicating marks and requested a walk with the Bishop. Tyra, on edge from the most recent events, hesitated but agreed. As they walked, this Paladin warned her to distance herself from Moorwhelp and the Scarlets, else they would kill her. At the end of this meeting, he removed his helm and revealed himself to be Nicholas Thonidas, one of the Scarlets working for Quintin. Shaking her head, Tyra declined his advice saying she placed her trust in His Holiness. As he walked away, Tyra noticed that the man was crying. A week later, His Holiness approached Tyra. “*Bishop, while almost all hope has faded to build this bridge with these Scarlets, I want you to go and deliver this personally…*” Taking out a pure white bishop Mitre. “*I pray the pureness of this message shows that we were also betrayed that evening…Please, go at once to the North before further fracturing occurs*.”

### **Chapter Twenty-Four: Hope Blinded**

Staring at the wrapped Mitre, Tyra would return to her still recovering office, Dame Pureheart had restored some of the furniture, though as Tyra rose from her chair…it collapsed again. Sighing, she scooted over another and stared once more at the Mitre “*Light…Is this the right thing to do? Will the Scarlets even see past their hatred…*” Slowly, she prepared for the travel, letting just Dame Pureheart know where she was going, and to not let others know, for they would likely try and stop her. After a week of travel, taking the off paths to avoid detection, Tyra eventually would arrive at the bulwark between the Western Plaguelands and Tirisfal Forest. On the horizon she could see the Scarlet Monastery, her destination. Carefully, she snuck through the bulwark, avoiding detection from the Forsaken and that evening, would spend the night in a dilapidated barn, hearing the sounds of wandering undead outside.

What Tyra had not anticipated was how fast her supplies would dwindle and soon a clock was ticking before she would be in a dire situation. With dehydration beginning to become evident, Tyra stared at the hat nestled in an ornate box and debated on how to approach the Monastery. A direct approach could be met with a potential attack…but a subtler one, perhaps in disguise and getting into the Monastery where she could approach the High Abbot, might work. Looking at what supplies she brought, she eyed an illusion charm and as the morning rose above the decrepit landscape of Tirisfal, Tyra would apply the temporary illusion…of a rat..and make her way up to the Monastery. As she waited for the guardsmen to look away, outside Cecil Gaines, the Scarlet Order’s Butler, would come outside for a moment. Looking down, he’d see the rat and begin to swat at it “*Stop that..I’m…*” Tyra would begin to speak and suddenly Cecil would scream out “*It’s a talking rat!*” alerting the guardsmen and several others. Tyra would dart off down the hill, panting heavily as her little rodent legs could only go so far. Suddenly, she was struck by a bolt by Dr. Yellowfield and collapsed to the ground, her disguise immediately wearing off, revealing the Bishop. *"Good afternoon, Bishop. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Tirisfal, I suspect you shall find the accommodations most welcoming."* Cuffing her in heavy, golden cuffs, they would lead her back up to the Monastery where the High Abbot glared at Tyra. “*This... is a lovely evening it would seem. Your Grace, welcome to Tirisfal. Dumb of you to come alone.*” Trembling, the dehydrated Kaldorei would stare at Quintin before  muttering out “*I am just here to deliver this parcel....Please allow me to and let me leave...I won't speak of what I saw here…*” Shaking his head, he looked to the Doctor “*Doctor, chain her up in the stables. Put the mare where she belongs.*”

Tyra was soon taken to the stables, staring at the muddy ground she muttered "*I still have to give the High Abbot his parcel..*" Shaking his head, Dr. Yellowfield would respond “*You may give it to me, and I shall hand it to him, once I am certain you are not delivering some cowardly device to harm His Eminence.*” After digging through her satchel, he would pull out an ornate box, glaring at the shivering Kaldorei he crudely would ask “.*..And what are the contents of delivery?*” Staring at the ground, her voice trembled out “*It is...a Mitre from His Holiness, Alonsus Secondus… a final offering…for peace*” Glaring at Tyra, Dr. Yellowfield responded "*If there is anything wrong with this Mitre, bishop. If I test this and I find anything out of sorts, I promise you I shall be returning and we shall announce together your arrival to Tirisfal by your unimaginable cries of suffering*." After inspecting the package for any devices, enchantments, etc. and finding none, he would bring the mitre to Quintin. Looking at it, he’d remark, looking at Tyra "*Not my color. I suppose this is a subtle offering of 'if you turn back you can become Bishop of Lordaeron'. Enjoy your stay Bishop, water is at five o'clock. Food at one o'clock in the morning. If you don't wake up, you don't get any.*"

The night though would be far from being over, as the High Abbot would leave, he’d turn to Dr. Yellowfield “*Brother Yellowfield, find out where they are coming from*.” As the guards and the Doctor looked back at Tyra, she suddenly got a sinking feeling in her stomach.  After a case of supplies was brought into the stables, the bound Kaldorei stared at the Doctor as he forced her to her feet and attached her cuffed hands to an overhead hook. "*Now, Bishop - you're always welcome to speak now. I should warn you, my methods are... unorthodox compared to my compatriots and most uniquely unpleasant. I would be willing to take a confession now and spare us both the effort but if not..*" he sighed. "*I suppose we could always use this as a teachable moment. After all, you've an audience.*" Her eyes sorrowfully looking at the Doctor and then the Crusaders who were watching, she would take a deep breath as her eyes locked onto his mask “"*I have nothing to confess...I have come here to deliver the parcel, which i've done.*” As she spoke, the Doctor would be removing various items from the supplies crate that had been brought down, being sure to show Tyra each device and blade as it was removed. A nervous, low whimper echoed from the Kaldorei as he attached a leg brace “*The Light will not Abandon me*.”. Smirking up at her, the Doctor would say “*Yes, I'm sure that is all, Bishop. This path is of your choosing, I am simply your guide. I do hope you take as much care in your answers to come as I shall in extracting them from you. Do you think we could make you wail loud enough for His Holiness to hear you back in Northshire?*" he chuckled. "*I suppose we shall find out.*" For the next hour, the Doctor would painfully torture the Bishop, the sound of classical music playing in the background would intertwine with the screams as he attempted to extract information. Tyra would tell him about the meeting that was held in peace attempts and those in attendance. They then pressed her on where the military encampments would be. Tears running down her eyes, after another gut-wrenching scream, she would mention Stromgarde as a possible location. They also questioned her on if any had been assigned to infiltrate the Scarlet Order and additional questions she had no answers to as this information was never shared with her.

### **Chapter Twenty-Five: A Strike at Midnight**

As the session was concluding and healing had been applied, word would get out that members of the Church had been spotted in the vicinity. It was decided to move the Bishop away temporarily from the area. Taken into the nearby mountains, in the distance the sounds of battle would echo out as the Church would launch a rescue attempt. During this, she would learn of attempts to ransom her off, but she was told that His Holiness was not interested, that she was not worth much. Unsure of whether to believe these lies, she’d growl at her captors “*His Holiness knows I will be fine, no matter what is thrown at me.*"Soon, silence would echo from the Monastery, the battle ended, and that sinking feeling would return.  The Bishop would be dragged back, with Doctor Yellowfield glaring at her “*Bishop, you lied to me.*” shaking her head, Tyra shouted back “*I did not lie!*” Smacking the Bishop across the face “*Sir Pureheart was here with you, spying. Now Karrogan Morris has paid the price, should you lie, his blood is on your hands.*” Tyra would reiterate “*I came here alone, he was not with me!*” Smacking her again, the Bishop fell to the ground. “*Please…do not let any others suffer for this…*” She cried out, the Scarlets smirked down at her. Word would come from the Order’s Highlord  " *Bishop*, *for what your incursion brought, you will be nothing but a laboratory rat. I want you to understand the heritage your kind brings. Death is the only affordable course of action to rid this world of the elven kind. Doctor, I submit her custody unto you and only you., lest his High Eminence commands otherwise.*” Tears streaming down her face, Tyra would mutter quietly "*The Light...w-won't abandon me, n-no matter what you sick dogs do.*” The Doctor growled and delivered a heavy jab to Tyra’s gut before he grabbed her by the back of her head and began to drag her off. "*You will regret those words, Kaldorei. I shall see to your suffering personally.*"

As Tyra was dragged into the Monastery, there she would see Karrogan Morris being interrogated. To see another member of the Church suffer at the hands of her ill-thought-out actions, that dealt more pain to her than anything that had already been done to her. Taken down the winding hallways of the Monastery, she was brought into the Inquisition’s office. The night was filled with experimentations, injections of unknown substances and of course, pain and suffering. The Bishop's screams rang throughout the halls and into the main congregation area of the Monastery itself. By the end, she was dragged into a small cage, given healing so that the bruises and injuries would mend. The Doctor smirked down at her “*Show some gratitude Bishop! You will speak of my success to no one or, if you ever escape from here, I will find you Bishop and I will kill you. I will publish my results when I am good and ready*." Crouching in the back of her cage, she would weep as the pain and trauma from the evening's activities would cement themselves in her mind.

### **Chapter Twenty-Six: A Trial of Faith**

Sleep would come after some time…but would be short-lived as she was awoken in the morning. “T*ime to begin your chores, Bishop.*” One of the Crusaders would state, banging on the cage. She would then be dragged out and as she stood, one of the Crusaders would place around the Bishop's neck a heavy metallic collar. “*If you even think of leaving the Monastery, this device will deliver a shock strong enough to kill you.*” A horrified look on her face, she silently nodded “*Y-yes, Sir, I understand*.” Her voice meekly said as she was brought out into the Monastery area. The Crusaders glaring at her, though would chuckle as she was handed a broom and ordered to begin cleaning “*Go see Cecil once you are done, if we catch you slacking off, there will be penance for this.*” Quickly, she got to work, sweeping every inch of the Monastery, polishing the candelabras, sixteen total and as she did this, her ears would pick up conversations. Turning the corner, she would oversee Karrogan Morris being interrogated…again, though as she watched from the shadows, her eyes widened in disbelief as he knelt down and took the Crusaders’ oath.

The Doctor, noticing the shadowed outline of her ears, would move behind the pillar and silently approach , he tapped her on the shoulder, the Bishop gasping out, nearly throwing the broom from her hands. “*Bishop, is there an issue with your duties?*” Shaking her head “*Good…If I catch you again, I'll be taking one of those ears of yours next…How many Candelabras are there? Get this wrong and no meals today.*” Blinking, the Bishop would think for a moment, the sound of the Doctor's foot tapping against the stone tile would make her mind go into overdrive “*I…um…uhh.. S-sixteen*?” Patting her on the head “*Good Bishop, now…get back to work.*” His voice menancinly would echo out. She continued her cleaning and then after going to the butler, Cecil Gaines, was then tasked with delivering the meals to each of the Crusaders, who would do their best to trip or chastise her at every opportune moment. In the evening, more experimentations would happen in the Doctor's office and she would end back in the cage. Silently, Tyra would pray to the Light for both forgiveness of her recklessness and to please give her the strength to endure these trials.

The next day, she was out early doing the same cleaning routine when she encountered Karrogan. With no one else around, she sat down next to him and he whispered to her “*I don’t…I can’t do this…*” Tyra blinked and looked at him, responding in hushed tones “*You must be strong Karrogan, they are going to try and break you down and want you to beg for death, you cannot give in.*” Her words would flow with encouragement and he nodded, though as Tyra stood to resume, one of the Crusaders would see her rising from the seat “*Rat! What are you doing sitting?*” Quickly turning, a look of terror crossed her face and she began to back away, muttering “*N-nothing sir, I was just…*” Her words would be cut-off as she was slapped across the face with a gauntleted hand. The Crusader then looked to Karrogan “*Morris, let this be the first test for you, teach the rat a lesson.*” Tyra looked to Karrogan as she was held in place, using the the Light to mentally send a message, she’d utter to him “*You must do this, do not worry about my pain, if you do not prove yourself, they will kill us both*” Karrogan would spit on the priestess before delivering blow after blow to her abdomen, purple-tinted blood would flow and coat his newly received armor. Once satisfied, the Crusader released the Bishop and she quickly crumpled to the floor. “*Go find the Doctor to heal up as it's almost time for our meals, rat*.” Spitting on her, both of them would walk away as she slowly went to the Doctor, receiving not just healing, but also further punishment “*How many candelabras are there Bishop?*” He’d ask as he injected her with another unknown substance, screaming out “*S-sixteen!*” Patting her on the head, he’d nearly toss her out the door. Dusting herself off, Tyra would go and resume her duties.

As more days passed, the same routine would occur each day and each time the Bishop would act out of order and be punished, she’d be asked time and time again how many candelabras there were, enough so that she began to obsessively count them as she cleaned. In the late afternoon, she found herself alone again, or so she thought, and once again sat on one of the pristinely-cleaned stone benched “*Light…Perhap I deserve the death they seek perhaps I…*” her voice would be cut off as Karrogan emerged from behind one of the pillars, his voice angrily saying to her “*Bishop, do you know what others, what myself have sacrificed to see you rescued, yet you wish to give in?!*” Tyra was staring at him. “*I…It is my fault this has all happened.. I deserve this fate…*” Shaking his head, “*We chose to take the risk to come, now…You told me to not give up hope, to not give in to their demands…So I am telling you this now, do not lose hope.*” Sighing, she would nod and as the sound of footsteps echoed nearby, she’d quickly rise and begin sweeping again, the two looking at one another sorrowfully before going about their business.

### **Chapter Twenty-Seven: Fighting Against the Darkness**

After a particular horrific day of chores, Tyra set her platter down on one of the benches and would overhear a conversation regarding the Church. Thonidas, one of the Scarlet’s Inquisitors would quirp “*The Church is but a den of heresy, it must be destroyed at all costs.*” As Tyra listened, Karrogan would look over and see the Kaldorei peering from behind one of the columns, approaching he glared at her “*What are you looking at? You’re supposed to be cleaning, right?*” Blinking, she quickly nodded and as she took out her broom again, he asked in an aggressive tone “*How many Candelabras?*” Freezing in place, her voice meekly would say “*S-sixteen*” and as she started to walk away, Karrogan would find the tray she had set down and stand next to Thonidas, calling the Bishop back over. Scuttling back over, Thonidas would growl “*Do you enjoy wasting our food?*” Nervously she shook her head  “*I didn’t eat anything!*” Thonidas glared back “*You left it out, where it could attract bugs.*” Tyra’s eyes widened “*I’ll get some fresh f-food right now, sir*” As she turned to move, their voices would boom out “*Stop! This is not about the food, but about your wastefulness.*” Turning, both sets of eyes glaring at her, Thonidas walking around her “*You were wasting our food and you continue to listen in on our conversations.*” Shaking her head “*I wasn't listening!*” Smirking, Thonidas would take a sip from a cup of wine on the tray “*It’s Warm…*” and suddenly splash the Kaldorei with it. “*I’ve lost my patience for you, tree rat, you are a waste.*” Tyra, with her garments, already torn and disheveled, was now stained with red wine and would stand there, frozen in fear. Just as she was about to move, Thonidas would grab her by the neck “*I. Wasn't. Finished. Treerat*.” Looking at him with terror in her eyes she muttered “*Let me go.*” His eyes would narrow, “*Did you just give me an order?*” Tyra would try to formulate a response but words would not formulate as Thonidas’ voice elevated “*Did you…Just give me an order?!*”

As his voice angrily echoed in her ears, something would…internally break, within the Bishop. Tired of her treatment, tired of being treated as nothing more than a lab rat, if death truly is what awaited her…She would not go down without a fight. Glaring back at Thonidas her words nearly snarled out “*Should I tell them about your visit to me in Stormwind, Thonidas?*” At this point, the commotion would bring the Doctor from his office, he’d angrily look at the Bishop as she spoke as she continued to pour forth words “*Where you came to warn me to leave His Holiness, where you cried at the end of this meeting?*” Shaking his head, Thonidas looked to the Doctor “*She lies, all of her kind lie constantly!*” The Doctor's voice then commanded the Kaldorei “*Look at me, now.*” Ignoring him, she continued “*I am not lying, he warned me and is a traitor!*” Suddenly she’d feel a vicious backhand against her cheek as the Doctor struck her, screaming out, she fell to the floor. Exhaling, another growl would come from the Bishop as she glared at Thonidas “*He will betray you*.” Shaking his head, the Doctor would nearly snarl back “*Brother Nicolas, Karrogan, take the rat outside, if she runs, I will happily remove her legs.*” Blinking as they both would grab her and begin to head to the exit, she would scream out “*No! I can’t go outside…the collar!*” The Doctor sighed “*You’re right, that is too far, bring her to one of the rooms, her screaming is giving me a headache*.”

### **Chapter Twenty-Eight: Yielding to the Light**

Tossed into one of the side rooms of the Monastery, Thonidas entered and Karrogan stood by the door. The Doctor stepped into the room, clutching a boiled leather whip, stretching it out between his two hands. As he did, Thonidas would tear open the back of the Bishop's garment, revealing her bare back. The Doctor looked to Karrogan and held the whip out  to him "*Fifteen lashes from you, then fifteen from brother Nicolas. If I notice you are holding back, if you show her any mercy brother Morris I will give you another thirty with the barbed. Prove your faith and your conviction here, now*." Watching Karrogan, Tyra again muttered out "*I am not lying when I said Thonidas came to warn me.*" Glaring down at her, Karrogan removed his gauntlets to get a better hold of the whip, replying with “*I thought we told you to be quiet.*” The Doctor added “*We are not addressing your allegations, Bishop we are addressing your attitude. Twenty, now, Brother Morris.*” Clenching his jaw, Karrogan stared down at Tyra, inhaling slowly and  with a sudden overhanded motion… he began to lash her, counting each time. Tyra, keeping her gaze downward, would regulate her breathing as the pain would be immense.

Between the sounds of the whip’s horrible cracking, she would hear an order come from the Highlord  “*Shave her head when you’re done.*” Snapping her head to glare at them, Karrogan would stop for a moment “*Face forward, elf.*” As she did, Thonidas left to go retrieve the clippers. The lashings would continue “*Ten…eleven…twelve..*” Karrogan’s voice would slowly utter, tears streaming down Tyra’s face. Thonidas would return and the Doctor would look to him "*As you please, Brother Nicolas, leave some hair upon her. If she is to remain locked in my chambers I will not have some hairless beast to gaze upon locked in a cage.*" Humming happily, Thonidas nodded and the Doctor, watching Karrogan would state "*Put your wrist into it, Brother Morris, you are down to the last five. If you falter now, the barbed shall be parting your flesh before the night is over I promise you that.*" Five further whip cracks would echo through the Monastery as he would hand the whip back to the Doctor, who then handed it to Thonidas "*Fifteen, brother Nicolas.*".

The Bishop, now crumpled on the floor as she tried to regulate the pain, would not even look at him as he approached “*I'm not as kind as Brother Morris… Tree Rat.*” he snarled and began his lashings. Karrogan, who requested to leave, was denied, the Doctor glaring at him “*You will watch Brother Morris. You are done here when I say you are done here.*” Thonidas would resume the lashings and as promised, were much more intense than Karrogans. As the pain rippled through her, the Bishop would finally cry out "*The Light will not abandon me!*" Her words set Thonidas off “*Quiet, Tree Rat!*” he’d scream and lash her several more times. The pain continued to increase, making the Bishop’s mind start to haze, screaming out, she began to recite scripture “*Arise! Wallow not in your filth! Return to the Light, and mercy may be shown!*"

The Doctor, seeing that she was beginning to lose her grip on reality, would cease the lashing and go to inspect her back “*Two more.*” Tyra, looking at the Doctor and Thonidas weakly, would continue to recite “*If mercy be the rod which correcteth the foolish servant, then let us bear the strokes until we cannot stand.*” With two more lashes, Thonidas prepared to do more, misinterpreting the Doctor's commands. He quickly would stop him “*I said two, you fool. We have no need to kill her.*" Collapsing to the ground, her garment now coated in her own ichor, the Bishop would again weakly mutter out, her voice amplifying a bit as she was grabbed "*If blood be the purchase of our dedication to the Light, then let an ocean swell forth from our lashes!!!*" Thrown into the chair, Thonidas with clippers in hand would smirk down at the Bishop, who glared back her vision blurred and still in a state of delirium would snarl at him "*What price is so steep that we should be reluctant to pay? Return to the Light, lest we be forgotten*". The Doctor, letting out an annoyed sigh, would remind Thonidas “*Leave -some- hair upon her.*” Nodding, Thonidas would move in close and begin to shave off the moonlight white locks of hair from the Bishop. As she felt her hair fall, so did tears…and words that flowed out as if they were from the Light itself "*Those whose fervor and whose virtue have attained that grace to win..*."Thonidas, humming as he continued to cut back her hair till almost was a pixie-cut, would have the sounds of the clipping almost drowned out by the Bishop's words “*Those who have suffered pain and sorrow here receive their great reward.*” At this point, the High Abbot would return from his meditation, looking into the small room “*Well…This is awkward.*” Remarking as he approached and silently watched as the Bishop's hair draped the crimson floor. A scream soon was heard as Thonidas would accidentally knic her ear with the clippers. Tyra, looking back for a moment to see that she had an audience, bowed her head in embarrassment, her voice quivering out “*O Light, Who hast spared the saints from the sufferings of the flesh, grant to Thy servants...*"

Suddenly, the Bishop would be hoisted up by Thonidas who would proclaim “*Everyone take a good look at the Bishop Tyragonfal*!” Before throwing her to the ground. Glaring up at him, her voice would echo out calmly, but in an almost threatening manner “"*May the Holy Light find redemption upon your soul when your time of Judgment comes, for they cometh to seek revenge, boy...and the Light will be the only Mercy you find when that day comes.*" Closing her eyes, she was again hoisted up and as they walked to the Doctor, the sigil on her left hand, which up until now looked to be just a strange tattoo or engraving on her, would illuminate, the Inquisition's eye becoming a blazing red. Smirking to Thonidas, the sight of this seemed to inspire a hope…and a fire in her heart. Fervently, she would snarl back at him  “*You see...boy...The eye of the Inquisition is always watching...I may be a heretic to you, but the Light judgeth betrayal of brethren far more harshly...*" Ignoring her comments, Thonidas would look at the Bishop's hand curiously.

As they walked to the Doctors quarters, the High Abbot would approach. “*Your Grace, please come with me.*” Nodding, Thonidas would release the Bishop and would go to get the Doctor. Walking slowly with Quintin, she suddenly stopped as they reached the door leading out of the Monastery “*I can’t leave…This collar will kill me.*” Sighing, Quintin ordered one of the Crusaders to remove the collar. Relaxing her shoulders a bit as the heavy metallic collar was removed, he then glared at her, saying curtly “*You are to be left for dead in the forest.*” Tyra’s legs nearly giving out from under her, she was soon joined by Thonidas and the Doctor. Upon learning his intentions, the Doctor remarked “*This is most troubling indeed, Your Eminence. I had plenty more experiments she would be helpful with. However.. since she is my charge, I see it only fitting I take her for release, much to my displeasure.*" Shaking his head, Quintin responded “*I'm afraid not. This is a matter for the Priesthood, Brother Yellowfield. More importantly, as I am the highest ranking clergyman here, I must dispose of her myself and I will do so alone.*” As they made their way down the stairs, the Doctor would follow up with “*Brother Nicolas claims this woman has a relic of sorts - was it acquired?*” Blinking, Tyra realized he was speaking of her sigil and quickly moved her hand under her other arm, the sigil at this point had stopped glowing. Shaking his head, Quitin replied “*I do not believe she has a relic. She's an elf, and one that should've already been made into charcoal. Both of you, your assistance is no longer required.*”

### **Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Festering Nightmare**

As they exited the Monastery, Tyra stared up at the night sky, looking at the stars, tears welled in her eyes before she felt a smack of Quintin's staff against her shin “*Move*.” Walking down the pathway, once they were a distance away from the Monastery, Quintin would strike his staff against the Bishop’s face, sending her to the ground. Letting out a cry of pain, he began to furiously strike her, not uttering a word as he did so. As this was happening, the Doctor would return and glare down at the Bishop “*Your hand, show it to me now, Bishop or I will cut both of them off so help me*.” With her hand still tucked under, she would not reveal the sigil. Quintin would not stop his beating, tearing her tattered garments more and sending hard strikes onto her knees. Stopping for a moment, he glared at the Doctor “*Leave*.” Thonidas also would rush down once again, despite his orders not to and would receive the same response as the Doctor. Once both had left, Tyra weakly muttered out as she lay exhausted in the dirt "*Thonidas is worried what I'll tell you....your High Eminence...*" Blinking, he glared down at Tyra “*Tell me…tell me what? Explain and I may let you live.*” Tyra would once again explain her previous, friendly encounters with Thonidas. Not satisfied, Quintin would put away his staff and point his hand at her. Suddenly a crackle of holy lightning erupted from this hand and would strike the Bishop. Flickers of it hit her entire form, it felt as if the Light itself was searing her in an electric fashion. This would continue for several more moments, before he sighed and would then grasp her by the legs, slowly, he would then begin to drag the barely conscious Kaldorei to the top of a hill. Looking down at her pitiful form, he smirked “*Goodbye, Your Grace.*” With that, he'd let go of her, giving a swift, heavy kick to her side to send her rolling down the hill and hopefully off the cliff itself.

The barely conscious Bishop would let out a scream as she felt herself rolling down the hill…and thankfully would not go off the cliff. Looking up, her vision blurry, but she would see that there would be no one around. In the distance though she could hear the sounds of undead, wolves, and light knows what else lurking. “*I…have to get…somewhere, Light please…g-give me strength..*” Looking around in the darkness, she would see a familiar structure in the distance. Not wanting to wait for something to pick up the scent of the blood on her garments and open wounds, she slowly picked herself up. With her numerous injuries she struggled to walk, slipping several times and by the time she reached what turned out to be Faol’s Rest, she crawled to the altar there dedicated to Alonsus Faol. Kneeling at it, Tyra began to pray, her voice weakly muttering “*Light, forgive me for my ignorance, my recklessness, please protect me…please let me be found by those with no ill i-intents*.” Bowing her head, she remained silently in place. As the night progressed into morning, she felt her wounds begin to have infection set in, tears falling from her eyes, she remained silent and continued to pray “*The Light will not abandon me*.”.

### **Chapter Thirty: A Candle Extinguished**

Unbeknownst to Tyra, at this same moment, the Church, led by His Holiness, had set up camp in the distance, wanting to both disrupt the supply-lines of the Scarlets, but also recover the Bishop. Upon Tyra being expelled from the Monastery, the High Abbot had returned and that evening met with the High Council. It was determined then that now was the time for the High Abbot to take on the mantle of Archbishop of the Scarlet Crusade and took the name Landgren Secundus. Word would reach them of the Churches encampment and led by their Archbishop, would set up camp themselves on shores of Tirisfal. As Tyra heard the Crusaders march past Faol’s Rest, she remained perfectly still and silent. At this point they assumed she had perished in the woods and she intended to keep it that way.

As the moon rose again, Tyra peered up at it. Her voice all but a whisper now, the Light would continue to keep the Bishop protected from the detection of wildlife. Slowly, she bowed her head once more, her body locked in place, accepting that death may soon take her hand and lead her from this realm. Back on the shores, the battle between the Church and the Scarlets was in full force. With a number of injuries on both sides, His Holiness would soon stand face to face with Archbishop Landgren. With their maces drawn, the two would be locked in combat as both sides tended to their injured. As the battle progressed, both of the Archbishops would sustain serious injuries and just when it looked like Moorwhelp was about to strike down Landgren, he would be fatally wounded. As Moorwhelp fell to the ground and drew his last breaths, Dame Pureheart would emit a terrifying wail and rush up in an attempt to revive him. As she did though, her attempts would fail and from a combination of  immense grief and exhaustion, would fall unconscious on top of him. The Scarlets would soon return to the Monastery and the Church would prepare to mournfully return as well. As they did, Sir Glamour Pureheart would begin to get a sense nearby, a faint Light surrounded by an encroaching darkness. While against the wishes of others, both him and Elaine Dawnsinger would follow this faint Light, that almost like a golden bird in the tree-tops. They soon were led to Faol’s Rest and would stop in their tracks at the horrific sight. Tyra, knelt before the altar, her garments caked in dried blood and festering, infected wounds from the lashings on her back and other injuries, would not move to look at them. Fearing they were too late, rushed to the Bishop's side, her skin pale, cold, the smell of decay emitting from the festered wounds, tears began to flow from Glamour’s eyes “*No…we are…*” He would be cut-off though as Elaine would feel a faint heartbeat from the Bishop “*She is still with us…barely, we must hurry*.” Quickly, Glamour would cast a warming blanket of Light over the Bishop to provide some healing as Elaine, being a soul-priest, would connect with the Bishop’s own soul to keep it tethered to this realm. As this occurred, the Bishop would awaken for a moment, her voice crying out “*The Light will not abandon me!*” before once again slipping into unconsciousness.  Carefully picking up the battered Kaldorei, they made haste back to Northshire.

Arriving before the others, Tyra would be carefully laid down, still unconscious and the process to heal her injuries began. Being so close to death’s door, they first tended to the infections. Some of the priests, not able to handle the stench of decay and seeing one of their own in such a dire state, left to pray for her recovery. After several hours, now in fresh garments and bandaged, Tyra was laid in a cot just as the rest entered and wails would echo from Northshire as they saw their Archbishops body be laid in the center of the room. The priests that had just finished tending to Tyra, now had the job of preparing His Holiness’s lifeless form to lay in state. Several days would pass with Tyra’s condition improving, but she would still not regain consciousness. A small red whelp plush now lay under her arm and next to her was the unconscious Dame Pureheart, whom the priests could not figure out what was wrong. As evening approached, Tyra would begin to slowly awake, but appeared to be in an almost catatonic state of mind. Looking about the room and staring at the priest, she suddenly darted into a corner in fear, her voice echoing  out “*I am s-sorry for neglecting my duties, p-please don’t…where is my broom?!*” Blinking, the priests took a step back, looking at one another and then at Lady Naldrion. Tyra would not move from her spot as she trembled in fear, not even recognizing Lady Jadelia Naldrion or any others whom she practically had journeyed through the priesthood together. One would request a broom to be brought in and as it was carefully handed to the Bishop, she would stare at it for a moment before rising and beginning to sweep the area…and then move into the rest of the Abbey. Passing right in front of the body of His Holiness, she would pay it no mind…as if it wasn't even there. The others watched, dumbfounded “*What…what is she doing, why doesn’t she…*” As she cleaned, Tyra would be counting the candelabras, stopping after she passed sixteen. “*Strange…we must have gotten more candelabras..there are now twenty-four.*”

The Bishops strange behaviors would continue for several days, even at the reading of his Holiness’ will where she and Dame Pureheart were bequeathed the McNib Eating Championship Plaque, she was focused on preparing the meals for all those in attendance.  At one point she accidently dropped an empty platter, and would look at one of the priests in pure horror “*I’m so s-sorry, please don’t tell the Doctor or other Crusaders!*” and quickly picked up the platter and ran to the opposite end of the Abbey. It was with those words that they soon realized that the Bishop was still living as if she was still with the Scarlets “*Light…what happened there?*” One quipped as they went to go find the Bishop and calm her down. The priests, Bishop Amourill, Achart Benevere and Lady Naldrion would meet to discuss how to snap her out of it. “*Maybe strike her on the head?*” That suggestion was quickly shot down, all the while Tyra would be sweeping in the background. Lady Naldrion would think…and remembered how fond of Pork Buns the Bishop was “*Let me try this…*” Taking from her bag a small, steaming bag of pork buns, where she got these…no one would question and followed Tyra, bringing her to the side of the room and holding up the pork bun bag. Sniffing the air, Tyra looked down at the pork buns and quickly snatched the bag and began to feverishly stuff her face with them. The other priests stared on, but Lady Naldrion watched this smirking as it had once been a normal occurrence. As the Bishop finished every pork bun in the bag, she slowly pulled the bag away from her face and looked up at her “*Lady Naldrion it is good to see you, I feel like….we haven’t seen each other in some time…*”  Smiling down at her, Lady Naldrion responded “*It is good to have you back with us, Your Grace.*” As Tyra finished up her pork bun treat, her eyes would catch something and would suddenly freeze. Staring at the center of the Abbey, she stood “*Is that? No…N-no…*”

### **Chapter Thirty-One: The Light Mourns**

Tyra would slowly approach in silence the body of His Holiness, her eyes looking over his form at first in disbelief. “*What have I done….*” The Bishop slowly whispered as her hands trembled as they traced down the dwarf’s form. Memories would soon come flashing back of their times together...realizing that these had now come to a shattering end. Tears began to well up from her eyes and suddenly a powerful, mournful wail would emit from the Kaldorei that would echo throughout Northshire. Collapsing to her knees, her head resting against the table, she began to weep profusely. “*Light...why...why have you taken him, now of all times?*” Her voice trembled out.

The pain and sorrow that coursed through her continued to strike at her heart. After several moments, the Bishop grew silent once again, her features looking up at Johannes, the rage within her eyes and her voice having a hint of a feral growl to it “*Judgment shall be brought against those that have done this...Your Holiness...You have my word*.” She slowly rose, still peering down at the Archbishop as her heart continued to ache with sorrow.

*“I have been a fool for far too long….and look what it has wrought….the loss of our most sacred pillar…*” Her eyes would sternly gaze over to Sir Benevere “*What can I do to see that this man’s sacrifice is not in vain...and that those that have brought the Church sorrow are brought before the Light to face judgment?*” Looking down, the sigil embedded into her hand would begin to glow profusely, a smirk would spread across Tyra’s face as the symbol of a glowing eye seemed to be re-ignited once more.

The next few weeks after recovering from her ordeal were a blur. His Holiness’ funeral was well attended by those who had known him for years…and those who had only just learned about him. At the funeral Tyra would give a eulogy, echoing out how the Archbishop had given her a chance at life once more and that this immense compassion for others is a quality we should keep in our hearts to honor his memory. Once entombed, Tyra would spend many days in the crypts in deep prayer. The most profound light in her life had been abruptly snuffed out and the guilt that she had some role in his passing. On top of all this, the fate of Karrogan Morris weighed on her and that his capture and transformation was her fault as well. The weight of all this sent the Bishop into a depression and she focused primarily on her paperwork. It seemed every conversation erupted memories of Moorwhelp.

### **Chapter Thirty-Two: A New Day Dawns**

As Tyra peered out from the lake next to the Stormwind Graveyard, her favorite quiet spot, she sighed, saying to herself “*They ask me to talk about what happened at the Monastery…and I can hardly remember parts of it…And Dame Pureheart, she is still unconscious. Light…please guide her back to us.*” As she walked back to the Cathedral, she ran into Nora Morris, Karrogans sister. She had witnessed the Bishop while in her catatonic state in Northshire and was happy to see her out and about as normal. Tyra looked at her, the guilt of what happened to Nora’s brother striked her hard. Sitting down with her, she explained what happened with her Brother and how sorry she was. Nora nodded, and explained that she had decided to take on the path of a Silverhand Knight and would be Sir Ritchard Elric as her mentor. Smiling at this news, Tyra would offer to support her through this journey. The issue regarding Dame Pureheart, along with the still raging Scarlet threat weighed on Tyras mind, but she trusted both Archbishop-Tempore Amourill and Sir Achart Benevere to deal with the Scarlets, hoping they would bring Karrogan home.

With her attention focused on waking up Dame Pureheart, she would have several individuals come and inspect the slumbering gnome. “*It appears that part of her soul is…elsewhere, perhaps searching for His Holiness?*” Blinking, she knelt by the gnome, her hands were still warm, but had a touch of coldness to them “*Light help her…please, come back to us Dame, His Holiness has gone to be in the Light’s graces and your warmth and love is still needed in this world.*”  Sir Elric, seeing the plight that the Bishop faced, assigned Nora as one of her trials to work on finding a way to awaken Dame Pureheart. As they discussed this, Dame Pureheart’s cat, Puff would be sitting atop the Dame sadly resting on her chest. Over a month would go by as both Tyra and Nora researched and tried out solutions, each failing. One evening, after receiving from a priest a spiritual version of her cat to Northshire, upon getting close to the sleeping Dame, her body shuddered a bit, and from behind them, a silent…spectral figure of the gnome would appear. “*Dame…Pureheart?*” Nora asked her, she nodded and would pull out a spectral McNibs wrapper, pointing at it. Blinking, the two of them watched the gnome as she ran about but would suddenly stop, staring at something they could not see and vanishing. “*Well…we’ve sort of gotten her back… sort of.*” Tyra sighed out.

For the next few evenings there would be sightings of a spectral gnome, even within the Cathedral, all of the encounters having the same interactions before she vanished. The same priest that helped earlier would look at the spectral cat that was created, now named Hope and would empower the feline more, saying to both Tyra and Nora “*Lead Dame Pureheart back to her body and let Hope do her work*.” Nodding, the next evening they both would search for the dame and finally would find her in the Cathedral Kitchen. Taking Hope, they lead Dame Pureheart back to Northshire “*Light I hope this works…*” Tyra mumbled as Hope was placed on the slumbering gnome's chest, next to Puff. The spectral gnome would run in after Hope and as she approached herself, a Light would erupt from her spectral hands, looking at them, she’d place them on her physical form. Tyra and Nora keeping some distance away would turn as that brilliant Light would erupt and once faded, the spectral gnome would have vanished, but there would be two white kittens sitting on the Dame’s chest. “*Did it…*” Tyra would hush Nora as a loud snore erupted from the gnome. “*Oh Light be praised!*” Tyra shouted out, Nora glaring up at Tyra as Dame Pureheart suddenly shot up from the cot, the two kittens yowling out as they darted under Tyra’s robes. Nora couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Dame Pureheart looked around confused for a moment, but would smile brightly up at the two “*Hellos Miss Tyragonfal!*” Tears flowed from Tyra’s eyes as she stepped forward, being careful not to step on the confused cats, picking up Dame Pureheart and hugging her deeply “*Not all has been lost…*” Tyra muttered to herself as she continued to hug the gnome, who was just happy to get a hug.

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As she was set down she blinked at the two cats “*Dids I always have two?*” Puff huffed a bit as he looked at Hope, but both would snuggle into the Dame’s lap. Like Tyra, she would remember very little…but would remember watching His Holiness pass on. Bowing her head in sadness, Tyra sat next to the Dame and wrapped her arm around her. “*It is okay Dame, we…the Church…Our Flock, we will overcome this…*” Walking outside, the three of them plus Puff and Hope would sit on the hillside overlooking Stormwind and watch as the sun began to rise“*Another day, another adventure awaits.*” Sighing, Nora and Dame Purehart smiling at Tyra as they sat there and watched as the city below them would begin to come to life.

```

## Titles

### Bishop of Stormwind

Tyragonfal is one of the Bishops of the Kingdom Stormwind and is High Almoner for the Church of the Holy Light

### High Almoner

Tyragonfal is High Almoner of the Church of the Holy Light, overseeing not only the treasurer of the Church, but also in seeing that those most in need in the Kingdom of Stormwind are assisted.

### Wizard of the Violet Order

Tyragonfal is a Wizard of the Violet Order. The **Violet Order of Dalaran** is an prestigious order made up of people who have provided important services to the Magocracy of Dalaran. Those who are inducted into the order may use the honorific post-nominal letters associated with their rank.

## Holdings

Tyragonfal became the Baroness to the Lumina' Auxilium-Adore Villa and is in charge of overseeing the land, which primarily supplies services for the impoverished across the Kingdom of Stormwind, including a pantry located in Stormwind Cathedral.

## Gallery

Artist: Sammy HancockBishop Tyragonfal Artist: irvanpradivtaCreated by: BanshihBishop Tyragonfal Art By: galuhsantosCard created by Edge-of-the-Wild and Portrait portion done by Sammy Hancock