Above, like the whispers of a dream, the bright sounds of the tavern slip down the stair like a quiet kitten. The crackle of the hearthfire, the murmurs of conversations, no words intelligible, just the hint of personal traffic, the banter of back and forth over a warm bowl of stew, the occassional clink of pottery mugs touched in toast.

" ... it's ... it's hard to explain Mezzy."

The little warlock sat on the edge of her bed. In her lap was a pretty green stone and it sparkled with magic. Healing magic, something ... something constructive in a world crafted of conflict and blood.

" ... Mezzy ... there are some hurts that can't be fixed by any sort magic.

"No matter how many emerald stones we can craft.

"They cut deep ... deeper than any sword, into that abyss beyond the spirit plane from which there is no return."

Silence crept in like a thief.

"He ain't comin back, Mezzy."

For a long moment the little gnome lass looked into the room's small corner fire, watching the orange flames flicker and dance, the glow of the coals. Listening to the wood pop and snap, and wondering why she just could not feel its warmth tonight.

"It doesn't mean ..."

She looked back to her cobalt companion, her protector, wondering how much of anything the big voidwalker really understood.

But she had to try.

"It doesn't mean there ain't nothing we can do."

She managed a small smile, looking back through ragged bangs.

"We'll always remember him.

"And when Mister Ellundus and Miss Vamira tell their daughter of the grand adventures deep into the fires of Blackrock Mountain, right to Ragnoros himself ... or striving against Lady Prestor as she wakes from her deadly slumber ... or when we finally stood over Razorgore's still form, the halls of Blackwing Lair ...

"She will speak of him, and how he stood with us in the best of times ... and more important, the darkest of them too.

"And it will be just like ..."

Small arms wrapped about her blood stained robes, against the cold of a Kharanos night.

" ... he's right there with us. And we'll know again, how his crossing our path touched us, how it changed us, and know that that part of him will be with us all our days."

Slowly she stood, to cross to the simple mantle piece. Upon it she placed the healthstone, balanced carefully, caught for a moment as it reflected the firelight all about her small room in a gentle cascade of soft color.

"There ...

"That's for you ....

"It'll be there ...

"For whenever you need it.

Nelli is so much more eloquent than I could ever be.

Words seem .. so little.

For those who have left us, my best wishes and my best hopes.

Thank you.

The one for whom this conversation was written ... they know who they are ... the rest is private.