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That’s why I finally came to you.”  “Then, by all means, please lead the way.”  There were only a dozen cells in the chamber behind, although the officer was willing to tell Tyrande that he had more down below. She nodded politely, now a bit curious as to what sort of being lay inside the one. After Brox, she almost expected it to be another orc, but Captain Shadowsong’s reaction to Brox made that assumption inaccurate.  “Here he is.”  The priestess had expected something huge and warlike, but the figure within was no taller than the average night elf. He was also thinner than most. Underneath the hood of his rather plain robes she noted a gaunt face very much akin to one of her own, but pale, almost ghostly, and with eyes less pronounced. Judging by the shape of his hood, his ears were also smaller.  “He looks like one of us…but not,” she remarked.  “Like aghost of one of us,” the captain corrected.  But Brox moved forward, almost seeming hypnotized by the unsettling figure. “Elf?”  “Perhaps…” remarked the prisoner in a voice much more deep and commanding than  gold  appearance let on. He seemed equally interested in Brox. “And what is an orc doing here?”  He knew what her companionwas. Tyrande found that extremely interesting, especially with so many strange visitors of late.  Then the  metin2  prisoner coughed badly and her concern took over. She insisted that Captain Shadowsong open the door for her.  As she neared the   cheapaion mat on which he lay, the young priestess could not help but look into that face again. There was more to it than appearance alone indicated. She sensed a depth of wisdom and experience that literally shook her to the core. Somehow, Tyrande recognized that here was a very, very ancient being whose condition had nothing to do with his age.  “You are gifted,” he whispered. “I had hoped for that.”  “Wh-what ails you?”  He gave her a fatherly smile. “Nothing even your abilities can cure. I convinced the captain to find one such as you because      game4powertime is running scarce.”  “You never told me to do any such thing!” Jarod Shadowsong protested. “I went by my own choice.”  “As you say…” but the prisoner’s eyes said otherwise to Tyrande. He then looked again at Brox. “Now you are something I did not calculate on, and that worries me. You should not be here.”  The orc grunted. “Other said so, too.”  “Other? What other?”

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