((Slightly changed writing style for this one. Went for more of a Pratchett-esque feel. Not a direct imitation, but taking a leaf out of his book))

"And if I ever see you set foot anywhere near my ship or family again," the point was accentuated with a thrown frying pan, nimbly dodged, "I'll break your bones and use you as a figure-head on a trip near the Maelstrom!" The man was angry, so angry that even down the docks small groups of sailors were watching with interest - sailors who thought they'd seen it all, and truth be told, they'd seen this before, but it was always a sell out crowd. In an ill-fitting uniform the captian of the Maiden's Nobility was rather upset that his own daughter's 'maiden's nobility' was no longer quite so maidenly... or noble.

It's amazing what a clever Kaldorei can do with a four-poster bed and a few rags.

Clomping along the docks, laughing roaringly to herself at the man's outraged, she dared a glance over her shoulder, and gave a blown kiss to the deeply blushing daughter not far behind the captian. The string of curses that followed made a sailor or two blush. The docks were busy, men carrying boxes, barrels, racks of weapons and armour back and forth into the settlement. Venia hadn't bothered learning the name, although she was fairly certian it'd be "Honour this" and "Valour that" - in names of locations she much preferred the Horde methos. Skullcrusher something always seemed far better.

The air was fresh, and the wind was lazy. This might conjure thoughts of a small breeze, but it was lazy in that it went through you, not around you. No amount of padding in the armour would shield from this cold - although she'd shed the armour she'd worn for her life. In it's place were simple cloth garments, trimmed with leather to help keep the warmth aronud the edges, slightly baggy cloth leggings tucked deep into some thick boots. Plate was no good now, she felt closed in, her sight blocked.

Pausing in the center of the settlement, she spread her arms wide, taking a deep breath of air so cold you felt it tickle all the way into the lungs. She opened her eyes and gasped quietly, the gasp of a small, pleasant surprise, like finding a present waiting infront of your door at home.

Of course, homes were over-rated.

The continent hummed with power. Nercomancy was the name of the game here, and from hours upon hours of pouring over tomes looted from Scholomance, she could pick out the threads of unlife, find them in the rich fabric of magic around. She let her senses expand, taking in more and more, before finding...

If magic could be viewed by a normal eye, the best description would be a tower of ice, reaching from the depths of the world and pouring into the sky. Atop the tower, however, the magic poured out, flattening, supporting something. A pillar of energy being built into the sky, immense in strength. The gasp, this time, was of shock and awe.

At first she expected this to be the Lich King, but homed in towards the location. This was central Northrend, not northern. This was nearer to the Dragonblight. Could it be the dragons? But the magic felt... human. There were imperfections to it, slight bumps in the handling. A dragon makes no such mistakes. She scanned down the tower, seeking the source, when suddenly everything shook, like a terrible earthquake...

"Miss? Are you okay?" a pressure upon her shoulder, a gentle rocking. She turned sharply, growlling ferally, eyes blazing, lost inside the magic, the rush of power as the mind extends past itself, soaring amoung the sky, the stars. Fear was in the man's eyes as he backed off, hands up near his chest in a pathetic gesture of reassurance. He got nothing more than a snarled 'I'm fine', before the Kaldorei moved off, heading towards the border of the settlement - walls still being erected against the harsh landscape.

The freezing wastes awaited, but soon cold would be nothing more than a fact of exsistance.