Aunaría Brightohoenix stepped gingerly across the lifeless rock that was the Telogrus Rift. It seemed to be drifting through the nether, reminding the high elf of her time spent in the Netherstorm and Shadowmoon Valley of Outland. The chaotic, fel energies of the nether there roared across the zones and threatened those who resided there with constant destruction; in the rift, however, the inescapable darkness seemed to reach for you in an unending hunger. The deep twilight skyline was filled with what appeared to be dark, shifting tendrils that fluttered about haphazardly, sporting erratic and jerky movements.
Aunaría had to fight to keep her wits about her. Despite her best efforts, she found her skin crawling with dread. She didn't know where to look to escape the growing despair. Thoughts began filling her head, and the monk had to use all her training to maintain her inner balance. It was the only thing she could do to keep from losing herself. She reminded herself that she had to stay focused. With a deep breath, Aunaría forced the encroaching whispers from her mind and continued her searching.
She had entered the rift mere moments ago against her own better judgment in pursuit of her long lost brother, Ezekiel. She had lost him shortly after the Third War. Their foolish prince, Kael'thas Sunstrider, had lead most of her surviving people down a dark path...one that Aunaría could not willingly follow. She had made the difficult choice then of exile; a choice her younger brother did not have the strength to bear. While she made the treacherous trip from Quel'thalas to Theramore Isle, her brother swore allegiance to her traitorous prince and remained in Quel'thalas to aid in the rebuilding. She had not seen him for years since then, but he was never out of her thoughts.
Then the news of the rebellious void elves reached Stormwind and eventually to Aunaría herself. Among those few named was her dearest brother, Ezekiel! Without hesitation, Aunaría booked her long awaited pilgrimage to her ancient homeland. It was a treacherous trek, but she had succeeded. Through the days of travel and rumor tracking, she had found her way to the portal and then inside the Telogrus Rift.
"Still haven't decided if that's a good thing or not," the elven monk thought to herself. She had not yet found any of the rumored void elves, but she had also only been in the rift for mere moments. Aunaría realized the futility of standing around and picked a direction and started walking, scanning the area around her as she went. She could find no trace of any elves as she continued on.
Only the tendrils. They kept shimmering in and out of reality. At times they seemed to not even witness the monk, while at other times they seemed to be darting straight towards her with murderous intent. The tendrils never struck her though, as they would veer off after having been noticed by the high elf. Aunaría found them strange and unnerving; she worked to make sure none ever snuck up on her and caught her off guard.
What was even more unnerving than the tendrils of shadow were the whispers. They too, came and went without consistence as they invaded the high elf's mind.
You will die here.
You belong to us.
We will have our way with you soon.
There is no escape.