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sheltronymous[How this scenario came about is left as an exercise for the reader. Timeline divergences work in mysterious ways, none of which even the Ancients knew enough about to predict, let alone the Crystal Exarch in all his quietly desperate scheming. It doesn't matter. There are two Warriors of Light who never met each other prior to Elidibus's death, the situation may eventually resolve itself according to the unknown laws of spatiotemporal inertia, Urianger is too tied up in other affairs right now to puzzle out exactly how the Scions came to acquire two slightly different sets of memories upon their return to the Source, and nobody else cares.
What matters is that Narengawa "no, the shorter Warrior of Light" Kha just walked back into the Rising Stones, a crumpled package from the Ul'dahn Miners' Guild buried somewhere at the bottom of her much-abused backpack, and found a dog. A small, white dog, far fluffier and less practical-looking than any hunting hound she ever spent some small part of her childhood with.
It's sitting on top of the otherwise deserted bar counter, surrounded by muddy paw prints and scratch marks. It yips excitedly at her, wagging its tail. She looks down at it. She looks behind her. She notes, a minute too late, that stepping on the trail of pawprints leading from the entrance to the counter has smeared them impressively widely across the stone floor; F'lhaminn won't be very happy about that.
She looks down at the dog again, frowning.]
...Alphinaud, is that you?
[Alphinaud is not here, having been called away to Lake Silvertear to speak with an Alliance representative less than a bell ago. Nor is his sister, who got restless waiting for him to bring back tidings from the Ghimlyt front and left to go take out her impatience on a wild morbol. There is only this dog.]
What matters is that Narengawa "no, the shorter Warrior of Light" Kha just walked back into the Rising Stones, a crumpled package from the Ul'dahn Miners' Guild buried somewhere at the bottom of her much-abused backpack, and found a dog. A small, white dog, far fluffier and less practical-looking than any hunting hound she ever spent some small part of her childhood with.
It's sitting on top of the otherwise deserted bar counter, surrounded by muddy paw prints and scratch marks. It yips excitedly at her, wagging its tail. She looks down at it. She looks behind her. She notes, a minute too late, that stepping on the trail of pawprints leading from the entrance to the counter has smeared them impressively widely across the stone floor; F'lhaminn won't be very happy about that.
She looks down at the dog again, frowning.]
...Alphinaud, is that you?
[Alphinaud is not here, having been called away to Lake Silvertear to speak with an Alliance representative less than a bell ago. Nor is his sister, who got restless waiting for him to bring back tidings from the Ghimlyt front and left to go take out her impatience on a wild morbol. There is only this dog.]
