A/N: This story is for bushviper and bainsidhe.

I haven't played WoW in a long time, but when I did, I enjoyed the lore. I was also someone who strove to play nice with the other faction in my PvP realm. That led to many "awwww" moments…and the occasional gankfest. Either way, it was a blast and I always thought cross-faction dynamics were interesting: especially in neutral cities and in the Cenarion Circle, where druids put aside cultural and political prejudices to serve a greater cause. This story is for Bushviper and Bain Sidhe, both talented and solid writers, witty and inspired storytellers, and overall hilarious and good people. So: 1) Look what you guys made me do. 2) I'm still waiting for your long-promised WoW fics. 3) No, seriously. I'm not kidding. *Flicks cobwebs off hair* Events take place pre-Cataclysm and should wrap up in current times. While I will try to do my research, can't promise I won't mess up lore or location details. Be gentle.

Chapter 1: A Most Unproductive Meeting

"I would rather be a man of paradoxes than a man of prejudices."
—Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Something wasn't right. That much was obvious.

So, why couldn't they just wrap up that meeting and have someone DO something about it, already?

Right then, the Circle of Cenarion's Council of Southern Kalimdor was listening to a report from a human homesteader who was describing an assortment of strange events assailing his and his neighbors' farms in some desolate corner of Feralas: blighted crops, sterile livestock, and an increase in aggressive wildlife encroaching into their fields. Auroch Whitehoof, the High Druid presiding over the meeting, listened carefully to his translator as she retold the longwinded tale of woe. Rin'Seyi crossed his arms and heaved a deep breath. They'd been in the room for hours. Outside, daylight faded over Moonglade and he was growing impatient. Unlike Auroch, he'd learned to speak Common and having to listen to the same story twice was getting on his nerves.

"Do you think you can help us?" a farmer asked one of the night elf druids.

"We hope we can. It appears the balance in your lands has been upset. What you have described could very well be Fel magic poisoning…but, then, again, it could be that the elements are displeased with—"

"When you send someone, could you make sure it's…You know…" the farmer continued in a more hushed tone, his head tilting towards the concerned-looking elves conferring nearby.

Rin'Seyi smirked. He knew where that conversation was headed.

"Hmm?" His naive colleague squinted.

"You know…Not one of them. Those …Savages. The Horde," the farmer continued bluntly. Another human nodded as if concurring.

To his credit, the night elf looked somewhat discomfited. So much so that Rin couldn't help chuckling to himself silently.

As if on cue, Auroch finally looked up.

"Rin'Seyi."

The troll straightened up from his usual slouch at the sound of his name.

"The Circle can spare you for a few days to look into this matter," the elderly tauren explained. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Practically an order.

"Ah…Dat be debatable," he countered, trying to subdue his irritation. "I need to keep records on Hive'Zora. All da wasps are coming out of reproductive cells and dat's where I tink dey become corrupted with Fel magic."

"If it would help, I'll take over for you, so you can go," his friend and colleague, a big oafish tauren druid named Dean Mountainwind, offered.

Oo, ya fucker.

He shot Dean a peeved glare and the tauren understood too late that he had just made things worse.

"That's a good compromise!" Auroch announced, pleased. "You are, after all, one of the best when it comes to understanding Fel corruption and wildlife."

The translator relayed this in Common and several night elves and worgen nodded in agreement.

"Leafwing!" Rin'Seyi called out in an accented but fluent Common across the room to a slender night elf who had been reacting to the announcement. "Ya be close by in Feathermoon, yah? Why ya don't go and look into dis?"

"I would, but I lack your expertise, old friend. I can identify Fel corruption and fight its manifestations…but you are the one who can best revitalize and heal any original sources of infestation and infection," the elf argued.

Oo, another fucker.

The pretty elf boy had even laid it on thick by lavishing him with an "old friend."

One of the humans whispered something to the group of night elves, all while shooting him worried glances. Rin couldn't make out the words, but if experience was to be trusted, he was willing to wager his entire gold pouch that it had something to do with the fact he was a red-haired and blue skinned troll.

"We understand your apprehensions," one of the elves began in an appeasing manner to the human. "But you must realize that the Circle is neutral and avoids involvement in political affairs. We are druids, first and foremost."

"An dat 'brute' dere," Auroch's translator, a feisty troll named Yuzula, interrupted heatedly as she pointed to Rin, "be one of da best scholars on Fel magic in Azeroth. An' not only dat: he know how ta be speaking ya language, so watch ya words."

"Dis may not be such a great idea." Rin contemplated the humans' distraught expressions. "First, we don't know if dis be Fel corruption for sure. Second, I might stir up trouble if I be showing up at a human settlement all alone."

A human, his face wrinkled and cured by the sun threw his hands up in frustration and addressed his companions.

"This is ridiculous! He's not a soldier! He's a druid! Unless you idiots are all willing to give up on your lands and go back to Stormwind in ruins to panhandle for a living or become cannon fodder, I suggest you stop all the nonsense and let this man…uh…troll…do his job and save our farms!" The man stepped forward to face him. "Silas Leighton," he stated formally, extending his hand. "I pledge to offer you protection during your stay."

Rin's hand practically engulfed the man's calloused one as he gave it a firm shake.

"Pledge what protection? As if we already did not have to contend with Grimtotem incursions, ogres, and rabid wildlife!" one of the farmers complained.

"Where exactly be ya farms in Feralas?" Rin wondered.

"Northwest of Isildien."

"It's unclaimed territory, has good farming land, and we're doing everyone a favor by beating the ogres back into the ruins!" another human explained hastily.

Yah. A real favor. So altruistic, Rin scoffed inwardly.

"I still tink I may not be da right one for dis. Old ruins wreak all kinds a havoc; there be old wards an' spells lyin' around. Everytin' be out o' balance—a good cleanse will only help so much," he argued in Common as Yuzula translated to Auroch.

"He does have a point," poor Dean tried, a guilty expression on his face. "It'll do little good to heal the land and wildlife if the underlying causes of the problem aren't identified. This could be anything: a curse or even a shift in the elements."

Once Yuzula's voice faded, the entire room fell silent. Rin hoped he was off the hook. Not that he delighted in the tedious work he did in Silithius, but at least he could dedicate himself to his studies in peace. Even Alliance in the region knew enough to give the Circle a wide berth in appreciation for all its support. The work he was producing was also advancing his prospects and influence within the Circle. Few druids had bothered to study the strange, large insects throughout southern Kalimdor in such depth. Their markings, sizes, and temperaments varied so much from other species'. He preferred to be stationed there—not too close to the Echo Isles, but close enough— far away from the Eastern Kingdoms. What his fellow druid had stated, that druids were above the petty squabbling of warring factions, was true in theory…but very hard to put into practice. He often ran into the occasional Alliance knucklehead who'd storm him, brandishing a sword, screeching some deplorable battle cry such as "For the Alliance!" or "Die, Horde, die!" It was always a bad idea on their part, he thought. He was no warrior, no duelist, but he could more than hold his own. Humans seemed to be the most prejudiced. He'd wager they looked down even on their own allies, they were so suspicious and mistrustful of any race that wasn't theirs…And of anyone who didn't look like them.

But den again, I could be sayin' da same about da Horde. He'd never admit it out loud, but the Forsaken chilled him to the bone. Just thinking of them made him shiver. They were anathema to his core beliefs: more notably, they defied the laws of nature, as all druids understood it, and the tenets of life itself. The one time he had gone to the Undercity to research the Plague, he'd felt sick and out of sorts for weeks. It had taken a trip to Echo Isles and some good ritualistic cleanses by his grandmother and her bundles of medicinal herbs to make him feel whole and balanced again. He was jolted from his pleasant memories of his grandmother's recipe for seafood stew—a mix of roasted seeds, pounded tubers, spices, meaty Spearhead fish, grilled lowtide crawlers, and delicately steamed snails in a broth so peppery it cleared his sinuses by the first spoonful— by hushed voices conferring animatedly nearby.

"Yuzula," one of the night elf druids called out. "Could you please translate what we have to say to the High Druid?"

"Dat's what I be here for," she quipped dryly. She tapped Auroch's arm and directed his attention to the druids.

"High Druid, I think I have a solution that addresses both of the Circle's concerns regarding this matter: we can call on our friends at the Earthen Ring for aid. Shydral Nightsong has offered us the name of a shaman from the Earthen Ring, someone who is also interested in Fel magics and their impact on the elements. This shaman is a draenei currently in nearby Theramore and should be available to accompany Rin'Seyi."

Approval erupted among the meeting's participants, even the darned humans.

He had to concede defeat.

"I'm sorry." Dean's big dark eyes looked at him dolefully.

"Ya better do all dat work ya promised, an' ya better not complain' 'bout hatin' bugs," Rin grumbled.

As he packed his belongings, he went over his instructions. His draenei contact had requested that they meet up in Gadgetzan. That suited him fine; he was overdue for a visit to replace and repair some of his equipment and replenish some harder-to-come-by reagents. He actually liked visiting Tanaris. He'd lived there long enough as a student to know his way around and avoid trouble. He went over the little information he had about his contact, whom he was supposed to meet at Gadget's auction house.

A draenei. A Shaman. Goes by the name "Sahar."

Now, Rin'Seyi did not consider himself prejudiced against Alliance in general. He could distinguish between governments, politics, and mere individuals. Even when these individuals occasionally chose to attack him out of nowhere. Ironically, it was off-duty soldiers who gave him the least grief when he was in neutral cities wandering through Alliance-heavy neighborhoods. But as far as the different races went, he didn't think he harbored any deep biases against anyone. For example, he had studied and fought alongside night elves early on, once he had been initiated as a druid.

Studied together…Fought together…And…Ah… Did a little more together… he mused, remembering all the bed hopping he'd partaken in early on with a couple of attractive night elves, freshly arrived from Darnassus, just as he had recently landed there from Echo Isles: all brand new apprentices at Moonglade. They had been young…and very intrigued about their former 'enemies.' Intrigued…An' so curious an' enthusiastic, he sighed longingly.

As far as the worgen went, he admired the Greymane druids—they shouldered a curse of druidic origin. Yet, they chose to embrace their animalistic nature and drew knowledge and understanding from it. He had a healthy respect for dwarves and had amassed many humorous anecdotes, some on the rowdy antics witnessed around the time of Brewfest. Gnomes were quirky, interesting folk: they were as clever and innovative as goblins, except less tiresome when it came to bargaining and having to verify the accuracy of his change.

Humans were a mixed bag. The most hysterical of the bunch, in his opinion. He didn't bother with them too much, one way or another.

But when it came to draenei… What was it about draenei, specifically? It wasn't that he didn't like draenei. According to his own logic, he should like draenei for similar reasons that he liked worgen: they had an animalistic essence, a connection to nature visible in characteristics such as their horns, hooves, and tails…But, by Cenarion! If he were being honest, they were just so…so…

Annoyin'!

He recalled a task he'd been given as a young apprentice. They had to trap and examine a few furbolgs to understand why they had been acting in a more warmongering manner than usual. His teacher at the time had explained that sometimes the Circle called upon priests or shamans to assist in their healing efforts. Rin's Common was only so-so at the time, but his teacher, a reclusive and elderly tauren, who besides Taurahe could only speak broken Orcish, had made him the mission's ambassador. Rin had gone to the rendezvous point in the thick of the Grizzly Hills, among furbolgs going berserk, to meet with their contact, a draenei priest. When he finally arrived, Rin'Seyi was shocked. He'd never laid eyes on draenei before and he did not know what to make of the one standing before him: he was robust like an orc, sported hooves, horns, and a tail like tauren, pointy ears and silvery eyes like an elf…but still…He appeared so alien to him. That one in particular had two fleshy tentacles dangling from his chin. He'd adorned them with golden cuffs that contrasted against his light lavender skin.

"Khronokai khrystor!" he'd boomed at him cheerfully.

Still a bit shocked, Rin pointed to himself.

"Rin'Seyi."

"What?"

"Rin'Seyi.

"Say what?"

"My name. Nice ta meet ya, Kreestor."

The draenei burst into a deep, rumbling laugh that startled a small flock of birds nearby.

"A-ha! I like you! You have spirit!" A giant hand whacked him heavily between his shoulder blades, causing him to stagger forward. "Oh, wait! NO, YOU DON'T! Spirit's for priests, not druids! Gotcha! Ha ha!"

Right then, Rin would've gladly offered himself to be gnawed on by a pack of rabid furbolgs to get away from the draenei.

"So what's your name again? Jin…?"

"No. RIN."

"…Say?"

"SEYI."

"Ah! Tell me again, son."

"RIN'SEYI!" he yelled, irritation overcoming him. His teacher quickly hobbled to their location, guided, no doubt, by the growing commotion.

"Spell it out for me, will you?"

"It's very easy," Rin growled between his teeth. "F-u-c," he began.

"Aaah," the old tauren interrupted, picking up on his frustration. "Uku uku chi!" he issued a Taurahe greeting.

"Excuse you!" the draenei issued playfully, before seizing the startled elder in a bone-crushing embrace. "Khronokai khrystor, Chief!"

The rest of the day had been productive, notwithstanding the priest's exhausting congeniality and tiresome double entendres ("Come on, Chief! No bullshit! Upfront attacks only! Ha ha! Get it? Bullshit? Come on, Sin-Reyi, tell him! Does it translate? No poo-poo-caca! Or would that be moo-moo-caca? Oh, Chief! We're having so much fun! Ha ha!") and stupid puns, ("The Chief and I can hoof it to the inn, but you will have to walk, son. Ha ha!").

At the end of the day, they had figured out that the furbolgs' water supply had been tainted by chemical runoff from a nearby ore-processing operation. They'd have to stay for the rest of the week to administer treatment to the furbolgs and then chase the tribe off deeper into the forest where they would have to establish a new camp near a more viable water source. His teacher had provided him with the only moment of levity in the long, miserable day. When they found themselves alone at the inn's tavern, at last, the old tauren raised his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his greying head mournfully. The barmaid asked them what they wanted.

"Jus' water for me," Rin requested. She glanced at his teacher expectantly.

"Towa kashu," the tauren stated with a sudden intensity. Rin did not speak much Taurahe, but he certainly recognized the words related to the four elements.

Fire water.

The tauren indicated two drinks with his large hands, while pointing at himself and Rin.

"Our secret," he'd said to Rin conspiratorially, casting a sullen glance towards the stairwell leading to the bedrooms, where the obnoxious draenei rested. "To help build strength," he completed, lightly pounding a massive fist over his barreled chest. "And patience."

The memory was still vivid in his mind as Rin'Seyi approached a terrace overlooking the lake in Moonglade. He was well aware that the encounter with the priest had shaped his impression of an entire race. It wasn't truth, he understood. But it was hard to shake off, nevertheless. Hopefully, his new contact would prove him wrong and possibly update his ridiculous opinion of the draenei as a loud, obnoxiously chipper, and overbearing people. He adjusted his satchel so that it would not interfere with his wingspan once he stepped off the terrace's parapet and shapeshifted into his flight form.