As he neared the peaks, he heard competing voices in his mind: one low and persistent, followed by the familiar sound of the wind, and finally the occasional rumbling of a fire. The voices seemed chaotic, clashing in their haste to commune with him, building to a cacophony that forced him to stop. I cannot understand all of you at once. Nobundo summoned what little strength he had left and crested a hill that opened onto a lush vista. Here was Draenor as it had once been; fertile and serene, a beautiful garden-like refuge of cascading waterfalls and vibrant life. You must forgive them: it has been too long since they have felt the tempering influence of the shaman. They are angry, confused, still reeling from the blow dealt to them.
â€œThe cataclysm,â€ Nobundo said as he stepped farther into the tranquil setting. He knelt and drank from a pool of water and felt immediately rejuvenated. He felt his mind open up, his thoughts becoming a part of his surroundings as the surroundings in turn became a part of him. The voice that answered him was at once clear and soothing, strong and robust. Yes. I was perhaps the least affected, but it has always been this way. It is a necessity that I adapt quickly, given that I provide the very foundations of life. He felt more than heard the affirmation.
Welcome. Here in this quiet refuge the elements coexist in relative peace, and so our discourse with you will be easier, especially in the early stages of your journey, before you have learned to feel our intentions without thinking. True knowledge and understanding will take years, but if you stay the course, in time we will be yours to call upon, but never to command. Yet if you respect us, and your motives remain unselfish, we will never abandon you. The cataclysm cast us all into turmoil and uncertainty. For a time we were lost. In you we sensed a kindred spirit: confused, neglected. It took time for us to recover sufficiently to reach out once again, but when we did, we hoped you would be receptive.