Phasha

                The draenei priestess walked with purpose through the cavernous halls of Ironforge, her white robes flowing around her, making it as though she was floating. Only the clop of hooves against the stone floor gave any evidence as to her actually walking. Why her father chose to live in such a city was beyond her. She longed for the open air of the Aldor rise back in Shattrath, even if being in the remains of the once glorious city made her want to cry. Not that she ever would.

                "Now where did that dwarf say he lived? By the Mystic Ward?" the conversation with one of the guards as to the house of her father had been difficult, as her grasp on common was less than passable, and the dwarf wasn't helpful as he didn't know draenei, "How does father get along here? No one speaks our language."

                At last, she found the house. It seemed small for a cleric as devout as her father. Did the dwarves not know of his devotion to the Light? Walking up the stairs, stairs? Was this not an issue for him? to the front door and knocking gently as she mentally prepared for seeing her father for the first time in ten thousand years.

                Mutterd cursing in draenei could be heard in the house and she smirked to herself. Well father, you were never a morning person. AS the door opened she was suprised what she saw. It was her father, Shadoren, yes. But he seemed different.

                "Yes? Can I help you miss?" he asks.

                Unsure what to say she just stares blankly at the man in front of her. He was Shadoren. But he was differnt. The Light in his eyes was no longer there. What had happened to him?

                "Miss?"

                His words snapped her out of her stunned silence, "Are...are you Cleric Shadoren of Argus?"

                "Cleric?" he chuckles, "I haven't been called a cleric for about sixty years now. But I am Shadoren of Argus, a Farseer now. I followed Nobundo after...after my faith was shaken at Karabor."

                Thoughts raced through her head as she digested his words. His faith shaken? What had happened? Had he lost her mother? Did this mean he lost his connection to the Light? After his long lifetime of devotion?

                "Miss? Do I know you?" Shadoren seemed confused at the priestess' presence at his home. Especially so early in the morning after staying up late attempting to deduce the cause of the earthquakes with various other members of the Earthen Ring.

                Again, his words broke her out of her thoughts, "What happened to you? You used to be one of the most devout men I knew! Did something happen to mother at Karabor? No one I talked to seemed to know where she was. And what is this Farseer buisness? I thought Nobundo only took those.." her ranting went on and on, but Shadoren was stuck at one word. Mother. Why would he know what happened to her mother? Unless...

                "Ph...Phasha? Is that you? You survived Draenor!" he sweeps the girl into a hug, almost in tears. Sixty years of thinking he was alone in the world. And his daughter, long thought dead, comes right to his doorstep. His daughter. With Lycannon. That Elicoor had no knowledge of.

                "Of course it's me, father, who else would I be? What happened to you?"

                Sighing, he ushered his daughter into his home. This was going to be a very long and awkward conversation...