It had been a week since Demeternoth had agreed to take the trip to Hearthglen. Raiklev had sent messages ahead to various old contacts in the hope that they would be able to help along the journey north, it would be long and rather costly and any room or meal that came cheaply or, even better for free, would be welcome.
Since they had left the forces, he had tried to forge them a new life based on the outskirts of Stormwind, offering them both much needed peace and calm. It had been that way for a time, and the small holding they'd set up had given good yields and they were able to sell the farm produce in the streets of Stormwind. Without warning though, the dreams had started after they'd moved into the log cabin on the lake. Deme had shrugged them off at first but as they became more frequent and more disturbing, Raiklev's concern had grown and he'd urged her to consider confronting the cause of them. Consistently she'd refused, stubborn as ever. They argued more and more about it as Deme's wellbeing suffered and Raiklev continued to work on the farm, trying to build them a future. When she finally relented last week he was struck by how vulnerable she looked, usually so tough, so strong and so defiant to any trauma or fear she suddenly seemed weak. Raiklev sighed to himself, it was that striking and rare vulnerability that he saw in her, that no one else did, that had swelled his heart when they'd first faced battle together.
When the world had been broken and Stormwind shaken to the core by Deathwing himself, he feared her dreams would grow worse, the noise from the forces amassing by the portals and the increased activity around the lake destroyed the little peace and quiet they had carved out for themselves. Whilst they hadn't become more frequent, the dreams hadn't stopped. In some ways the noise and sounds of battle preparations at the portals had offered a small comfort, a distraction almost, but the intensity of the dreams had continued to grow and that's what concerned him more than anything.
He shook his head clear of the musings and gathered up the last of the supply crates. Walking out to the horse and cart he loaded on the last crate and lashed it down. A few gold passed to the driver of the cart and he reconfirmed the instructions to meet up at Menethil in 4 days time. Now to track down his wife.
Deme was in the dwarven quarter purchasing the last of a few light supplies to take with them on the first leg of the journey. She marvelled at how quickly Raiklev had made the arrangements and smirked to herself, she should have known, he was never one to wait for things to happen so she should have been prepared to move quickly. She wrapped the bread she'd bought in a cloth napsack and thanked the vendor, just some water and light ale to pick up and she could head off to meet Raik at the entrance to the tram and then, they would begin the trek to Hearthglen.