World of Warcraft: Illidan

Warden Maiev Shadowsong

“You elves—how can you live so long and learn so little of patience? There is a time for everything, and a place. The best revenge is not hurried.”

spoke to him occasionall

Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider

Druids of the Claw

lip twisted into a sneer. “But fortunately for you, I hate the demons more.”

She nodded as if he had confirmed something she wanted to hear. A suspicion flickered through his mind. He had been imprisoned not from any false act of mercy, but because she had known that one day he would again be needed. He had been stored here like a weapon hung in an armory.

Ahead he sensed a being of enormous—and familiar—power, his brother. He might have known that wherever Tyrande was,

He felt as if he were falling into the rune-covered disk, but he knew this was an illusion, a construct created by his mind to give him some sense of understanding what was going on here. Ultimately that was not possible for a brain born in natural reality, but his mind would do its best to provide him with a framework he could work with.

That itself meant nothing. They could still perish in the next few hours. He could still die. His whole life could be turned into an empty cosmic joke by the whims of chance.

Do not be too confident, he told himself. We make order from chaos by the force of our wills. It is foolish to read anything more into the patterns random chance throws up.

Akama was correct—a ritual of immense power was being enacted here. There could be no doubt of the awesome magnitude of the sorcery being worked.