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Posted: Mon Jul 22, 2013 8:46 pm
Coming Forth by Day **
Alonzo Higgins hadn’t had it. While he wasn’t always the best supplied when it came to magical tomes, Arrens had held some hope that he - the last of the rare book dealers he knew of in Stormwind - would be able to help him track down this book that was turning out to be little more than smoke and rumors.
Still, if it was rumor enough that the demons were talking about it, he’d take the chance and keep an eye out. Something that powerful didn’t come along but every once in a great while, and even if it didn’t turn out to be all that it was cracked up to be, the school’s rare book collection could always use a new tome or three, and his advanced languages students could use it for translation practice. There just weren’t that many good grammar books for Abyssal these days, and most of the Demonic ones were either too basic for advanced students, or contained little more than various kinds of creative swearing.
What Alonzo Higgins did have, though, was a lead. It was a bit of a long shot - something called the Magical Rogue, or so he thought. He wasn’t really sure, and he couldn’t give an exact location except “in one of those alleys in the Dwarven District”.
Arrens put the time at around 3:30 - plenty of early June daylight left before he had to worry too much about what else might be skulking about in the alleys behind the various shops in the Dwarven District - and headed towards the smog that perpetually occupied the northern corner of town. /Someone/ in Stormwind had that book, or his demons were all in a tizzy about nothing.
Two hours later and he was sure his robes were going to need a thorough airing out before they didn’t smell of old motor oil. And nobody had ever heard of a shop called The Magical Rogue. He turned down a final alley, hoping that this might contain the shop he was looking for, and came to a typical dead end. Arrens leaned against the wall... and promptly fell headfirst through a false doorway.
“Afternoon, Mister.... er...”
A wiry blonde man with a shambling grin peered down at him.
“I... erm... yes. Well. I’m Arrens Caltrains. I’m looking for The Magical Rogue.” Arrens peered back, attempting to fix his skewed robes.
“THE Arrens Caltrains? I had no idea I’d made the ranks to be sought after by one such as you, your esteemed professorship. As for the Magical Rogue, you’ve found him.”
“Hmm? You mean you can show me where the shop is? I’m looking for a rare book.”
“Ain’t no shop, sir. Just me. Call me Zable. I’m the magical rogue.”
“I wasn’t under the impression that rogues were particularly magical. I thought most of your work was done in the fairly concrete domain of knives and poisons.”
“Any sufficiently skillful bit of thievery is essentially indistinguishable from magic, as I figure most folks who get their pockets picked have figured out. Anyway, they call me that because I find things. You’re looking for a book?”
“Yes. A fairly rare book, probably in Demonic, though possibly Abyssal. I’m not particularly sure even of its title, only that it exists, and there is supposedly a copy floating around Stormwind.”
Zable peered at the professor in front of him, as if sizing him up.
“Don’t strike me much as the Demonic sort, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, sir.”
“I am a trained warlock, if that’s what you mean.”
Zable shrugged. “Don’t much matter to me, if you’re willing to pay the right price for it, I guess. It is pretty rare.” He carefully unlocked a crate that had several padlocks and key-mechanisms on it. Arrens watched intently as he produced first two bottles of wine, then a small cask, then two scrolls, and finally a very old, fairly large book.
Arrens cleared a spot on his desk and set the book down in front of him. It wasn’t much to look at, and after the price he’d paid, part of him said he’d probably just been thoroughly fleeced. Still, if this book was all it was cracked up to be, it would be worth whatever price some eel of a rogue had managed to wheedle out of him.
He poured himself a glass of wine, grabbed a pencil and a notebook, opened the book, and began to read.
A little while later, he scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, wondering what time it was, and why he felt so hungry. A quick trip to the kitchen revealed that all the bread he’d bought earlier that day had gone moldy - he’d have to have a talk with the Millers about that - and opted to head down toward the cafeteria and see what he could scrounge up for dinner.
Odd that they were serving pastries and oatmeal.
He shrugged, decided it was better not to ask, heaped a plate with pastry, and headed back to his study. There was something about that book that he just couldn’t put his finger on.
**Story Title is an allusion to the direct translation from the Egyptian for what we now call “The Book of the Dead”. I found it fitting. Nerd jokes, etc.
The Magical Rogue
Posted: Thu Jul 25, 2013 7:15 pm
Aely had done a damn good job of turning the office over. Ungraded papers were strewn about, the waste bin still sat overturned and an inkwell had toppled oozing across the desktop. Lorelli moved around the desk, pushed the chair in then gathered up a few of the papers. She skimmed them quickly but found nothing new. She hadn’t expected to.
Lorelli returned the papers to the desk and pulled the door shut on her way out. It didn’t stay, due to the fact that Aely had busted the door knob to get in. The rogue chuckled with a shake of her head: paladin lock picking.
She turned as she heard someone approach. Deputy Headmistress (well, acting Head Mistress now) Landris couldn’t help but shuffle her tiny feet as she hurried down the hallway. “Miss Tymara!” The gnome called stretching her arm as high over her head as she could to wave.
Lorelli sighed, damn academics. “S’Lore, Landris. I’ve told you many times. You're as bad as Arrens.”
Landris frowned, “Yes, well, Madam Caltrains told me you were coming. I thought I’d see if you need anything or if you needed to be let into...” she trailed off, frown deepening is she spotted the broken door.
“Doesn't look like Aely missed anything. Y’all swap classrooms occasionally too, so no use searching there, yeah?”
The professor nodded, “Correct.”
Lorelli raked a hand through her hair. Suddenly she turned back to Landris, “He say anything to you before he disappeared? Anything seemed odd or off color?”
The gnome started to shake her head then paused. “There was one thing... I didn’t think much of it at the time. Headmaster Caltrains and I always viewed our craft a bit differently so often pursued paths that the other did not understand and while I respect him greatly...”
“Right. Yes. Sorry.” The professor pushed her glasses up her nose. “Well, I needed the Headmaster’s signature to approve a new class we were adding for the next semester. I came down to his office after hours because I’d forgotten to take care of it earlier. You know how it is, so many students so little...”
“Get to the point, shortstack!” Lorelli interrupted.
Landris gave her an offended look, “Fine fine." She brushed imaginary dust off her sleeve. "He was immersed in demonic writing and muttered something about a ‘magical rogue’.” The professor shrugged, “It made absolutely no sense to me, especially given the context. Does it mean anything to you?”
Lorelli frowned, “Yeah. Yeah, it does. Thanks Landris.” And she went sprinting off down the hall, leaving a bewildered gnome behind her.
Once outside Lorelli pulled the buzzbox off her belt and set it to the guild channel. “Okay, so there was nothing else of interest in his office. However, I did run into Landris.”
Aely’s was the first voice to respond. “An’?”
“She said she came in to get his signature and heard him muttering something about a ‘magical rogue’.”
“...Tha’s a bit nonsense?”
Tarquin’s voice followed, “What?”
“Actually, I’ve heard it before.” Lorelli said as she glanced around the Mage District looking for any of the kids that ran messages for coin. There was a small gang that worked each district in Stormwind, one or two districts assigned to each.
“It’s a very catchy title.” The new girl, the deader, Ilyra.
“If it’s who I think it is, he’s going to be a bitch and a half to track down.” Lorelli spotted a young boy hanging around outside one of the nearby inns and waved him over.
“Who?” Asked Fells.
“He’s a dealer in... things. All things. You want it, chances are he’s either got it or can get it. Fenced an item or two for me in the past, though I’ve never met him in person.” The rogue paused, thinking a moment. “Problem, is, he’ll only see you if you’re buying or selling. And if you’re buying you better know exactly what you’re after.”
The boy had reached her now and Lorelli kneeled down, whispering in his ear and pressing a coin into his hand. He nodded and turned, running off joining another boy and exchanging words before exiting the Mage District. Word would be traveling now and hopefully she’d know in short order if the Magical Rogue was even in Stormwind currently.
“If we have a title now, I suppose we do know what we’re after, don’t we?” Ilyra asked.
“Figure he won’t sell the name o’ the book Arrens wanted.” Came Bricu’s reply.
“The Creepies get us a title on our tome then?” Lorelli questioned, referring to the unlikely warlock translation team of Sarcanna de Roux and Hinote Kirase.
“On Concordance of the Shifting of the Ways.” Ilyra said.
Tarquin cut in again. “You need something to sell, Tymara?”
“If what Miss Volcano said is true, he might be able to find a copy.”
Lorelli tapped her lips thoughtfully. The ‘Magical Rogue’ probably wouldn’t believe she wanted to buy the tome and if only one existed he’d deny her anyway. She was better off going the other direction.
“We got somethin’ worth selling, boss?”
“Take yer pick. An’ take company.”
“Might not be my call on that last bit.”
Lorelil handed the list of book titles that Annie had given her to the little red haired girl. The child nodded and ran off and now all the rogue could do was wait and see if they could do business. She took care of a few errands and when she returned to the Pig later in the evening, another child was waiting for her.
“The Magical Rogue is interested in what you’re selling.” He gave Lorelli a location and a time before disappearing back into the streets of Stormwind.
She pulled the buzzbox out and flipped it on. “Teeth, Hownen, you two busy?”
She hadn’t been told she couldn’t bring friends, but in their line of work it was generally frowned upon to bring uninvited guests. So Lorelli left Tirith and Ilyra hanging out nearby in case she called. She switched the load of books to the other arm and waited.
The meeting spot was a side alley that connected to one of the main streets. She stood in the shade of a building watching folks on the road hurry about. Many of them were trying to complete last minute errands before the sun finished setting. Lorelli shifted the books again and as she did a flash of something caught her eye. She turned and a wiry blond man detached himself from the shadows.
“Had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to sneak up on you.” He looked her up and down and have a soft whistle. "First appointment of the day and seems I’m a lucky lucky guy.”
Lorelli rolled her eyes. “Magical Rogue, is it then?” She wasn’t sure what she had expected and somehow this man managed to feel like he was and wasn’t it at the same time.
“The one and only. You are?” He leaned in eyeing the books with an almost hungry expression.
“Teal.” She replied, swatting at his hand as he reached out attempting to caress the dusty tomes.
He blinked and straightened up, “Are you then?” He tilted his head a little as if trying to get a better look at her. She had at least a full head of height on him but he wasn’t complaining about the view at eye level in the least. “Not sure what I expected, but I guess you’d fit the bill.” He waved his hand, “Come, step into my office. I know you elfy folk don’t like the harsh light of day.”
He stepped through the wall and Lorelli followed.
“Couple of interesting bits you tossed my way last time we did business. Kind of sorry I’ve never gotten to meet you in person before now.” He stepped up to a table and patted it indicating she should set the books down.
The room was empty except for the wooden table in the middle. It was too small to be a shop, but too big to be an office. Guess one did business where they could find space. Lorelli deposited the books and watched the man as he began flipping through the first one.
“Been some time since I sold something for you.” He said, still inspecting pages.
“Had a slight shift in occupational responsibilities.” She said, watching him. There wasn’t really much else in the room to look at.
“Course, course. Too bad though.” He glanced up at her with a grin, “Definitely too bad. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. Where did you get these?”
Lorelli returned his grin but it wasn't entirely friendly. “How about a trade?”
He closed the first book, set it aside, opened the second. “Depends on what you want, sweetheart.”
“I’m wondering if you sold a book recently.”
“Sell lots of books, you’ll have to be more specific.”
“This one was written in a language not commonly spoken among Alliance or Horde territories. Some form of demonic maybe?” Lorelli paused, gauging his reaction.
There was a slight jerk in his usually smooth page turn but that was all that gave him away. He was a professional, after all. “Sorry, haven’t seen anything like that.”
“Are you sure? Perhaps I can jog your memory with the man who bought it. Arrens Caltrains. Tall, lanky, blond hair probably in a ponytail. Proper. Almost too much so, nice robes.”
Page turn. “You just described half my clientele.”
Lorelli was across the table in an instant, fist tangled in the front of his tunic. He’d almost managed to dodge her but she was just that much faster. He made a strangled sound as the books were knocked to the floor.
“Careful with those, they’re valuable!” He protested.
She slammed him into the wall with a thud. “I’m done playing games. My friend is missing and right now that book is the only lead we have to where he may have gotten off to.”
“You know, if you wanted to get close to me all you had to do was ask.” He offered her another grin, twisted himself and was loose. He straightened his tunic and waved his hand at her. “You can put those away, I’m satisfied.”
Lorelli nodded and returned the daggers to her belt. Neither of them had been one-hundred percent sure the other was who they said they were. He’d tested her and now they were on even ground.
“So, about the book and the professor?” She prompted.
He looked up at her as he was in the process of picking up the books. “What you’re asking isn’t worth what you’re giving. What else you got?”
Lorelli produced a small leather journal from somewhere and held it out to him. He returned the pile in his arms to the table before accepting it from her. After a few moments of paging through it he eyed her.
“Okay, I really want to know where you got this.” He said, waving the book at her.
“Not part of the deal. That one's been in my personal collection for a long time and that’s all you need to know.”
He looked extremely disappointed, “Fair enough. Yeah, I did a deal with your friend. Sold him an old book written in demonic, like you said. I did ask him if he knew what he was getting himself into.”
“Yeah, well, that’s Arrens. Likes to bite off more than he can chew. Can you get another copy?” Lorelli asked.
He pocketed the journal and shrugged, “Not sure. I can certainly try. It’s gonna cost you though.”
“Course it will. Just let me know, yeah?”
He nodded and ran a finger through the dust on the spine of one of the other books. “These are actually for sale, aren’t they?”
Lorelli chuckled, “Yes, they are.”
“Lovely!” He pushed the pile to the side of the table and dropped a bag onto it. The coins inside clinked together as it landed. “So, Teal’s not your real name of course.”
She debated a moment before answering. He knew what she looked like, all it’d take was some asking around Old Town to find out who she really was. “S’Lore.” She answered.
“Well Lore, pleasure to meet you, call me Zable.” He held out a hand for her to shake. “We should do business more often. You’re welcome to threaten me again. Or let me buy you a drink.” He winked as she took his hand and they shook.
“Maybe when I’m not working.” She said, scooping up the bag from the table.
“And when would that be?” Zable asked, but she was already gone.
Tirith and Ilyra fell into step with her as she passed their positions on the streets outside.
“How’d it go?” Tirith asked.
“About as well as I expected. Zable did sell him the book. Gonna see if we can get our hands on another one.” Lorelli replied.
The deader’s eyes bored a noticeable presence into Lorelli’s shoulder. “I assumed this magical man’s hands were already on a second copy. Did he point you to it, or are we still looking?”
The rogue shook her head, “He said he didn’t have a copy at present. Certainly could have been lying but if we kill him we won’t find it anyway. Better to wait and see if he decides to come around or not.”
“I suppose he won’t be coming or going much of anywhere if we killed him, would he? Not to mention the disruption that would have on his business.” Ilyra paused mid-step. “Oh. That’s an idea. Do either of you know if our magical rogue has any competitors? Perhaps they might have a copy. Either way - if you’re right about him being dishonest, the threat of losing our business could put him off it.”
“There are plenty of fences in Stormwind. But he’s the best. If the book’s as rare as it sounds I’ll be surprised if anyone else has it. S’worth checking into though.”
The corpse made an encouraging sound. Or, at least, tried to. “It’ll give him time to think, at least, about how foolish it would be to hold anything back from the two of you. You’re positively frightening.”
“That’s kind of what we’re paid for. I’m more worried about compounding Aley’s concerns, but I suppose that’s unavoidable now. I think all we can do is reconvene and take stock.”
“And find the stock we’re after somewhere else.”
Lorelli shrugged, “May or may not be necessary, need to check with the creepy twins. Come on, if I have to deal with Hinote and Sarcanna, I need a few drinks in me first.”
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Fri Jul 26, 2013 3:21 am
The apartment was small, in one of the dingier parts of Silvermoon. Of course, dingy in Silvermoon was still nicer than clean in Orgrimmar or the Undercity. Kyralelle had been to both cities recently, though now she was home. Or what passed for home since she'd been kicked out of Dalaran. A two-room apartment stacked with the few books that hadn't been confiscated, a mattress, and little else. The majority of her assets had been "liberated" by the forces of the more alive of the Windrunner sisters.
Bank accounts were least of the sin'dorei warlock's concerns at the moment, however. Instead she paced in the dim light of a crystal core, mentally cursing herself. How had she gotten so caught up in a stupid war as to miss hearing about this? Orcs come and go, but a powerful mage going missing... that was significant. Just as the lowlives of Azeroth had their circle, so too did the arcanists and spell-flingers. To not hear about the very headmaster of the Stormwind Academy going missing, they had kept something out of the gossip for a long time.
"By the Sunwell, Arrens... what did you get yourself into?" The slim elf muttered the last bit repeatedly as she paced, occasionally looking to the machine where she had seen Aely's note. She didn't know the woman closely, but they had shared a table several times in years past, enough so that emotion twisted through the elf when she thought of a husband gone missing. She wanted to help... and perhaps equally important, she wanted to know what the human had found to send him away. Was it power, or was it death?
Truly, she hoped it was the former. They'd been colleagues during the rebuilding and the campaign in the North, and she didn't relish the thought of finding Arrens to have met his end. A practical woman though, Kyralelle was aware of the dangers of the demonic, of the Nether. A corpse may very well be the endpoint of any such investigations. It was part and parcel of the path they both walked, and she couldn't help but wonder if that need for control had finally bested the human.
Finally, with a deep breath the elf flopped onto her neatly-made bed, red hair splaying around head and drooping ears before she reached for her ink and pen. It was time to call in old favors.
((This is a short post, I know. I have to work out how to get more involved, but I really wanted to at least write something.))
Demonology 101: Introduction to Disappearances
Posted: Wed Jul 31, 2013 8:52 pm
This was written primarily by one Sarcanna de Roux.
I trust Kirase more than I do de Roux. Tarquin’s warning rang through Aely’s head as she followed the familiar path along the lush grasses of the Mage district. Kirase hates my guts, but she’s at least predictable. De Roux is all niceness an’ manners, but I’ve seen her work. She didn’t know exactly what kind of “work” she’d be seeing, but hopefully a visit to someone’s apartment to talk about a book wasn’t going to get her bled dry on the carpet for a summoning. Besides, Yva Darrows had sort of cornered the market on “unhinged warlock shit”, and even she was fairly benign when it came to talking shop, if you had the stomach for that sort of thing. It was just when she was trying to perform unhinged warlock shit that things got sketchy.
Sarcanna de Roux’s townhouse wasn’t far from the University, but it was definitely in a different part of town. It wasn’t the arcane-laden finery of the area around the Blue Recluse, but it wasn’t the Slaughtered Lamb either. By all accounts, this block of townhouses was fairly straightforward looking, and Aely could easily see any of the professors from the university happily living there. She followed along the row until she came to the building with the appropriate street number, let herself through the little gate, and rapped firmly on the little door knocker. She noted idly that it was shaped like a proud Stormwind Lion carrying a ring in his teeth, which juxtaposed nicely with the sorts of magic that probably happened inside, and waited to see if the building’s creepy inhabitant was at home.
The door swung open on well oiled hinges, revealing a long corridor leading into the townhouse. Paintings hung between the doorways, small tables with a scattering of curios; sculptures of birds, crystal wine glasses, miscellaneous books. The hallway, however, was devoid of any persons. Aely blinked and glanced about and back down the hallway, before looking down. Holding the door open was de Roux’s void spirit... servant? It beckoned her with one claw once it had her attention, before turning and bobbing further into the hall. Aely shrugged and stepped into the house.
The spirit led her down the hallway, to the stairs leading up to the first floor. They ascended, and at the landing the spirit gestured towards one of the many doors leading from the landing. Aely stepped forward, gripping the doorknob. She looked over her shoulder to the spirit, who did its best approximation at a nod. She stepped inside.
The library appeared much bigger than the size of the townhouse would’ve suggested. Shelves lined all four walls, reaching all the way to the raised ceiling. Books crammed the shelves wherever they could be fit, and stacks on the floor made of those which did not fit. Ladders hung off rails, allowing access to the very top-most shelves. A great desk sat in the middle of the room, piled high with books, papers, inkwells and quills, paperweights and knick knacks; all the accoutrements of academic study with a dark twist. Candles cast guttering light from candelabra and a chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling. A stand in the corner stood draped in the crow-themed robes the warlock habitually wore - the crow-skull mask hanging off-kilter from it.
Standing on one of the ladders, about halfway up the rungs, stood the sorcerer in question: Sarcanna de Roux. Dressed in simple breeches, shirt with sleeves rolled up, and a vest, she cut a much less... intimidating figure than she did dressed fully in her crow-themed regalia. Her silver hair pulled back in a short ponytail, she had been in the process of reorganising a number of titles before Aely had entered the room. Turning at the sound of the door, de Roux looked down from her perch and smiled.
“Ah, madam Caltrains. How good of you to have come so promptly.”
The woman’s cultured tones gave no indication of her origins, instead merely marking her as one who had come from an expensive education. She slid lightly down the ladder and came over to where Aely stood in the doorway, dusting her hands on her thighs as she approached. With the same banal smile, she offered the paladin her hand.
Aely glanced at the proffered hand cautiously for the briefest second before grasping it in return.
If she had noticed the hesitation, she did not show it. Her smile widened to show the barest hint of teeth, and she waved her hand as if she was brushing imaginary motes aside.
“Please, madam Caltrains, in here you can call me Sarcanna.”
She turned and gestured to the study’s desk, piled high with parchment and thick tomes.
“I imagine you wish to get to the core of the matter with haste, but before I regale you with the details of what I have found, do you wish any refreshment? Tea, wine?”
Aely broached half a smile. “I’ll call ye Sarcanna if ye’ll call me Aely. An’ tea would be lovely, if ye dinna mind.”
“Of course then, Aely.” de Roux turned back to the door. “Librarian? Tea, if you would. The proper stuff, not what we generally serve to visitors.”
She faced Aely again. “Now; let’s get to it, shall we?”
Sarcanna walked to her desk, pulling the great chair out with a touch more ease than one would have expected. Before she sat down, she moved a smaller, dining room chair around beside her own, to allow an additional person to oversee what was displayed across the desk. Sitting down, Sarcanna scooted the chair in, placed a small pair of ivory and crystal optics on the bridge of her nose, and steepled her fingers over the mess of papers and inks. The paladin sat in the dining chair, putting on a pair of small, oval glasses of her own. They looked a bit out of place on her otherwise generally strong and capable looking frame, but Sarcanna pretended not to notice.
“Now; what I have found. First off, I have managed to successfully translate all the notes in all the papers you gave me. Like I surmised earlier, they are the notes taken in study of separate tome; the On Concordance Of the Shifting Ways. A copy of which I have as of yet been unable to get my hands on. However, I have been able to piece together a lot from these notes, and references to the On Concordance in other volumes I own.”
The void spirit Oriax returned carrying a platter; on which sat a porcelain teapot, milk jug, sugar bowl, and matching teacups. It placed the platter on a small stool, and began fussing about with cups and silver teaspoons. Sarcanna shuffled some of the loose pieces of parchment containing Arrens’ scratchy handwriting, pointing to examples as she spoke.
“At its most basic, the On Concordance is what is generally termed a ‘libram ex nihilus’ - that is to say, a work penned by either something from the Void, or by a mortal ghostwriting for such an author. Caltrains’ notes don’t make it clear which, but I would say at this juncture that is a moot point.”
Sarcanna pushed the optics back up to the bridge of her nose, shuffled the papers, and began gesturing to other writing - Arrens’ notes, supplemented further by Sarcanna’s translations and notes. The tea had apparently finished brewing, as the void spirit was pouring tea from the pot into the teacups.
“More specifically, the work is a manual, a guide for acquiring greater power of the Fel and the Nether, for denizens of our world and the Broken one. I would wager a large sum that the On Concordance was traded for by a mortal sorcerer of our plane from a being of the Nether. Quite a risky proposition; that may indeed be why this book found itself... without a scholar.”
The tinkle of silverware against porcelain interrupted de Roux’s monologue. The Librarian bobbed over to the desk, carrying two teacups. It handed one to each of the women, and retreated back out the door to... nowhere? Sarcanna barely acknowledged the spirit as she took the tea and had a sip, before continuing.
“Unlike most tomes of its kind, it appears that the On Concordance was concerned with the three main foundations of the Triad of Fel magic; flame, darkness, and the enslaved. The book was, or is, three separate volumes in one. Each devoted to one of the foundations, with instructions, rituals, maps, commands, and Light knows what else - all with the sole purpose of wringing greater power out of a conjunction of location, sorcery, and will.”
The paladin across from her paused slightly, teacup in midair, but aside from a hitch in the gesture, made no move to interrupt.
“Now, most of this I had to surmise based on my research on the title in other tomes I own that reference the On Concordance. Caltrains’ notes are entirely focused on one of the volumes; on the enslaving of Nether and Void entities.”
De Roux snorted in derision.
“The conceit of those who bind and attempt to control beasts with free will? With alien cunning and an infinite desire for revenge? I have nothing but contempt for demonologists.”
Sarcanna glanced up from the parchments to the other woman.
“No offense meant to you and yours however, of course.”
Aely nodded, with little emotion registering behind her carefully impassive face. “None taken.”
“So Caltrains’ notes are entirely concerned with the volume on demonology. It appears that the tome is concerned with a ritual which involves the summoning and binding of multiple Nether entities - no mean feat on its own - and then consuming them to fuel the sorcerer’s own ascension. Ascension which is not elaborated upon, sadly. I’m curious as to what the devouring of multiple demons would accomplish specifically...”
Sarcanna cleared her throat slightly, and continued.
“The ritual, such as it is, requires a locale of strong attunement to both the void, and the practice of summoning and enslaving the denizens thereof. This,” Sarcanna jabbed down at the scrawl with a finger, like a dagger.
“There are a few locales which fit these particular requirements. In Azeroth, there is the Altar of Storms in the Blasted Lands and the Burning Steppes, remains of covens in the Twilight Highlands, and certain hidden burrows and lairs in the ruins of the lands of Lordaeron.”
The pale woman drained the remaining tea in her cup, and placed it absently on top of a haphazard stack of dusty books. The void spirit Oriax manifested itself again, taking the teacup and returning it to the serving tray.
“In the lands of Kalimdor, there is the Mannoroc scar in Desolace, Demon Fall Canyon in the kaldorei forests, and Darkwhisper Gorge on the slopes of Mount Hyjal. Through the Portal in the Broken world, there is the weak barrier between the planes in the Netherstorm, the altars of Guldan in Shadowmoon, and the ruins of the necropolis of Auchindoun. There are also the other Planes of existence; specifically, the Plane of Elemental Fire.”
Sarcanna steepled her fingers again.
“Unfortunately, I cannot be any more specific than that. There is a lot of potential locations, and none of the notes taken by Caltrains indicate which he was interested in, or even what locales are more likely than the others. It appears that more specific research, or tracking, is required from this point.”
Sarcanna straightened the sheaves of papers and straightened her posture in her chair. Removing the optics from the bridge of her nose, she turned to face Aely.
“Despite not having a distinct answer for you, I believe I have provided you with new avenues of investigation. Now, there is only to decide what your next step is to be, no?” Sarcanna raised an eyebrow in mock askance.
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Mon Aug 05, 2013 9:20 pm
Trailing Off, Part 1
The red mountains that made up the perimeter of the Blasted Lands came into view as Shaila flew her proto-drake, Sharyz, to the demon infested plains. The winds were rough and warm here as always, a sign of the instability of the lands connected to the Dark Portal. This time it filled Shaila with confidence. Lands such as these were prime spots for Arrens to have carried out whatever he intended, and with Stormwind’s gryphon master having said he went south, this had to be the only place he could have headed.
She flew over the walls of Nethergarde Keep after letting the guards on the walls get a good look at her. Tensions at the fortress were always high, with demons and the Horde both in close proximity. Had she flown right down, she likely would have been filled with arrows for her presumptiveness. But fly down she finally did, landing safely on the tall wooden flight platform. It hadn’t really been built for proto-drakes, and shook slightly as Sharyz flopped down onto it. Shaila winced, and gave the flight master an apologetic look as she climbed off and led Sharyz down to get him settled.
She looked around for Hinote as she did, wondering if the warlock had already arrived.
She didn’t have to wonder long. “You’re late,” came a neutral voice from nearby, on the path leading away from the flight master’s platform. Hinote stood there, arms folded, looking only mildly impatient. In other words, a grade or two more pleasant than she usually looked.
Shaila smiled at Hinote, cheered by the apparent mildness of her impatience.”Sorry. Sharyz got hungry, I had to let him eat a deer on the way.” She finished getting the creature settled, and walked over to join the warlock.
Hinote reached into her pocket for a moment and withdrew a small, dark purple gem, holding it up for Shaila to see. “This should tell us if Arrens has been through here. Hopefully.” She looked at it herself for a moment, apparently skeptical. “It’s hard to say for sure with so many other residual magical signatures in the area, but the summoning circle Aely took me to had a fairly distinct signal.”
“Well he took a gryphon here, we know that,” Shaila said, folding her arms as she looked around. “Which means that unless he flew down to Surwich, he came through here first. Are you picking anything up yet?”
She stared at the gem for a moment longer. Nothing about it changed, which apparently meant something, because she stopped soon after. “It’s a little faint here, but there’s something. Might get stronger if we get closer to the portal, or the Tainted Scar. It works best in places he performed magic, and if he came here for a warlock ritual, he probably went to one of those two areas.”
“Well, let’s follow the signature,” Shaila said. “Could you summon your uh...” She hesitated, looking unsure. “...horse? Thing?”
Hinote looked at Shaila for a few seconds, slightly incredulous. “Dreadsteed?”
“Yeahhh,” Shaila said, nodding. “That thing.”
The warlock made a gesture with her free hand, and a patch of flames erupted from the ground next to her, growing in size over the course of a few moments until it reached about as high as Hinote herself. It dissipated just as abruptly as it came, leaving behind an indignant-looking horse - if you could call a thing with burning hooves, horns, and spikes a horse - that regarded its mistress with a mix of curiosity and disdain. Hinote, however, didn’t seem to mind its attitude, and promptly climbed up on its back.
Shaila approached the Dreadsteed after that, and tentatively patted its rump before pulling herself up and behind Hinote. She held onto the warlock, and leaned forward slightly.
“Alright, Hino. Take us away!”
Hinote urged the dreadsteed forward and it took off along the road, leaving behind a trail of slightly singed cobblestones and bewildered Nethergarde Keep inhabitants as they rode out the gate.
“So we didn’t get shot in the back as we left,” Shaila said. “That’s a good start.”
“They’re not exactly strangers to warlocks down here,” Hinote replied. “Things like this make most of them a little uncomfortable, but they’re used to it.” She looked at the soulstone again as they rode along. It still looked largely the same, which seemed to disappoint her slightly. “Nothing good yet.”
“So how do you read that, anyway?” Shaila asked, trying to peer over Hinote’s shoulder (largely unsuccessfully). “Follow whichever direction seems to make it glow more, or what?”
“Something like that. There’s more to it, but at the very least it’ll tell us if he’s been through here, assuming there’s nothing interfering with it. The trail’s just...not all that strong here.”
“Hm...alright,” Shaila said, nodding. She left Hinote to reading the soulstone after that, and the warlock could occasionally feel the small woman shift around slightly behind her as Shaila surveyed the passing landscape.
For the most part, Hinote kept to reading it in silence. As they neared the branch in the road leading south, though, something caught her attention, and she slowly urged the dreadsteed to a stop. “There’s something...” She trailed off for a moment, looking first at the soulstone, which was now glowing faintly, then at the surrounding area. Her eyes finally settled on a steep plateau just west of the road. “There, I think.”
“Isn’t that the Rise of the Defiler?” Shaila asked. “Makes sense...”
“Yeah,” Hinote affirmed. “Don’t think it’s seen any visitors in a while, but it can’t hurt to check. If nothing else, the signal should be clear.”
Climbing the rise would have been out of the question; the sides of the plateau were far too steep all around, and the top too high up. Fortunately, whoever had last used it - or perhaps whoever had originally used it - left teleportation runes for easy travel up and down the rise. The peak was as grim and dreary as anything else about the Blasted Lands: a char-black ritual circle of some sort was etched into the top of the rise, ringed by the skeletal remains of what were most likely its last victims. The sky seemed to darken just slightly as Hinote and Shaila arrived on the scene.
Shaila shifted uncomfortably, glancing around after arriving to the top. “I expected what this’d be like, but it doesn’t make it any better. Let’s finish up here before...something invisible pushes us off the edge or something.” She looked over to Hinote. “Any spellwork here?”
Hinote looked at the soulstone once again, which was now emitting a bright purple light. “I think so. He was definitely here, but...” She studied the gem intently for a moment. “It doesn’t look like he stayed long.” Her eyes turned to the faded ritual circle inscribed on the rise. “Might have been a good place for whatever he was hoping to do if he’d come here years ago, but the residual magic from whatever ritual took place here is...faded.”
“So this isn’t the place then,” Shaila concluded, looking over to her.
Hinote shook her head. “No. He stopped by, but whatever he was after, he couldn’t get it done here.” She pocketed the soulstone again.
Shaila exhaled a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good,” Shaila said. “Because for a moment I was kind of scared he’d summoned himself away. Somehow. Does that happen?” She looked to Hinote, curious.
“Summoning yourself away is called teleporting, Shaila.” Hinote cracked a slight smile as she turned towards Shaila. “So no, it doesn’t really happen. Though I suppose it’s possible something else summoned him...but I don’t think it happened here, if it happened at all.”
“Right,” Shaila said. “Then let’s get out of here and go to the next extremely unsettling location we’re bound to be led to.”
“Yeah...” The warlock’s eyes drifted westward, where the enormous, ominous statues of an Altar of Storms could be seen in between the crags of the mountain. “Hope you’re ready for a few more, because this place is full of them.”
Hinote’s intuition proved accurate, the Altar of Storms being precisely the next place they were led. Caution was appropriate, as the Altar over the years had been occupied on and off by the local cultists and ogres, drawn to the magical and demonic potential the power of the old corrupted runestones of Caer Darrow held. The three ominous hooded statues stood vigil as always around the perimeter of the Altar, the altar itself scarred with old scorch marks from the lightning that tended to manifest during rituals that would take place there, hence the name.
The altar was also stained with dried blood, mostly in the center. There were however the odd bloodstain in the outer perimeter of the Altar, likely marking the few times that the cultists had been disrupted during a ritual. Violently. No one who had ever possessed the Altar seemed to have seen fit to clean the thing, perhaps believing that even old blood lent some power to the arcane device.
The two women felt the energy of the Altar as they stepped onto it. It was as if they were stepping through a physical barrier of some kind, an oppressive and uncomfortably hot feeling that they had to will themselves to proceed through. Occasionally they thought they could hear voices, moaning and panicked whispers that faded in and out. To the layman it would have seemed imagined, but the two seasoned adventurers knew that they were real. They were hearing the Altar’s past victims. And there were many.
“Please tell me he didn’t use this thing,” Shaila said, looking over to Hinote with her arms wrapped around herself.
Hinote was either unfazed by their surroundings or else doing a very good job of hiding it. She looked at the soulstone, which was glowing brightly again. “Maybe...” She stepped onto the altar proper, looking around at the massive, cowled statues before settling on the space in the middle. “There’s a bit more interference here, but I think I might be able to...” Her eyes turned to the soulstone again, as if willing it to divulge something new. “I think...he tried here. It’s hard to say. Either way, it didn’t work.”
Shaila glanced up to one of the hooded statues, narrowing her eyes at its faceless gaze. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about this place.”
“The most we can do right now is keep people away from it. It’s going to take a lot more than just the two of us to clean this place up...and a lot of time.”
“Mmn,” Shaila responded, unsatisfied. “Let’s keep on the trail, then.”
As the two of them began to leave, they both suddenly felt as if a number of strong hands were gripping their shoulders, holding them back from leaving the Altar. Shaila gritted her teeth and struggled against the invisible hands as the pressure in the air around them seemed to increase. “Hinote!” She yelled, as the spirits holding them back seemed to gain a surge of strength and pulled Shaila through the air, slamming her against one of the statues and holding her there.
Hinote struggled vainly for a moment, watching as Shaila was lifted away like a feather on the wind. An indignant anger sparked in her eyes as she turned up to the statue where her friend was being held. “I don’t...have time for this.” A pair of pale green orbs shot out of her sleeves and began to orbit around her person, emitting a momentary flash of light as they emerged. The verdant spheres’ presence seemed to strengthen her, and with a powerful sweep of her arms she wrenched herself free of the oppressive spirits’ grasp.
Shaila meanwhile huffed, frustrated, and planted her hands and feet against the surface of the statue behind her. She set her jaw and glared at the air in front of her indignantly, before gathering her will and pushing herself away from the statue, tearing free from the spirits’ grip and falling through the air to land on her feet in a sprint, bolting over towards Hinote and the exit. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Hinote took off at a run as Shaila approached, careful to stay a little behind her in case something else happened.
They broke through the invisible barrier surrounding the altar with some effort, invisible fingertips brushing against their hair as the spirits attempted to grab hold once more, only to be foiled completely by the same barrier that seemed so insubstantial to the living women. There was the rumbling of a storm as the two of them continued to follow Arrens’ trail on to the next location.
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Mon Aug 05, 2013 9:21 pm
Trailing Off, Part 2
The next stop, somewhat predictably, turned out to be another altar; though not as large and oppressive an altar as the one they’d just fled. A single statue, hooded like the ones at the Altar of Storms, loomed over the scene. It was chained at the arms to a pair of broken obelisks that stood to either side of the elevated, inscribed slab of rock in the middle. Ritual markings covered the altar’s flat surface, and where there were no markings there were bloodstains, or unlit candles, or piles of skulls, or any combination thereof. A few braziers burned at the base of the altar, and a few more near the broken pillars next to it, casting a dull, eerie purple glow over their surroundings.
Hinote looked oddly wistful as she surveyed the scene. “Been a long time since I came here...” Her eyes went up to the towering statue, where a pair of orange pinpoints of light peered back at her underneath its hooded visage.
Shaila was looking at the altar itself, a more uncomfortable look on her face. “Were you a part of the forces that fought Kazzak?”
“Once or twice, before he reactivated the portal and ran.” She lowered her gaze to the altar. “More than that...an old warlock used to live here, and a lot of people came to him to learn the ritual to summon a doomguard.” Her tone grew a bit more musing as she continued on. “It was...sort of an archaic spell, and it’s been improved on since then, but for a while he was the only one on Azeroth who knew it. Or at least...the only one who was willing to teach it.”
Shaila glanced over to Hinote, unsure what to think of the musings. On the one hand they seemed to be...fond memories? On the other hand they were memories of someone learning how to summon a dangerous demon. So she said nothing, merely looking back to the altar and nodding subtly.
“How about our warlock? Anything on him here?”
Hinote looked at the soulstone again. It was glowing once more, though it was difficult to tell in the light cast by the nearby braziers. Still, she seemed to find whatever answers she was looking for in it. “Looks like he tried here too. It’s...clearer here than it was at the Altar of Storms.” She shook her head. “Didn’t work.”
“I guess we should keep following the trail then,” Shaila said, looking back to where they had come from. “Although there’s really only one other place he could have gone here. Think he was trying to avoid it?”
“Maybe.” Hinote thought about it for a moment. Aely had told her that Arrens was unusually careful, as warlocks went, and valued control above all else. If that was true - and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t - it would have made sense for him to try a site on Azeroth first. Outland was unstable before it was anything else, and not a place for the cautious-minded to attempt whatever high-level incantation Arrens had been seeking. “From what I heard about him, I think he would’ve tried for the path of least resistance. Someplace that would work with minimal risk involved.”
Shaila went back to Hinote’s dreadsteed, waiting for her to get on before doing so herself. “Can’t think of a place with less resistance to a summoning than a place already steeped in the Nether itself. Though ‘minimal risk’ is not a word I would associate with Outland.”
“Which is probably why he tried here first,” Hinote concluded.
Shaila nodded in agreement, and the two of them started off once more to their final destination. They rode past the Tainted Forest, that cursed patch of wooded land grown by a worgen druid who had bitten off more than he could chew. Hinote was used to dealing with this sort of thing already, and Shaila had grown reaccustomed to it in the course of their investigations in the Blasted Land. So the two paid little heed to the feeling of wrongness the forest emanated as they passed, the feeling of hatred, the feeling that it wanted no one to trespass within its borders and that there would be dire consequences for any who did. Familiar shapes stirred just beneath the trees as the two rode further away from the forest, and dull glowing eyes stared after them from beneath the thick, writhing vine and thorn bodies of the denizens within.
They finally came over the last rise at the hills that ringed the Dark Portal’s crater, avoiding the crags cutting through the ground glowing with a molten fel light. Shaila was careful not to breathe any of the fumes coming from the crags, and wondered as she did if Hinote had to worry over the same at all.
They rode down to the camp in front of the portal, glad at least to be among people that were neither cultists nor spirits nor demons. It was an odd mixture of troops, especially these days with how turbulent relations had been between the Horde and the Alliance. Orcs and dwarves and tauren and draenei mingled in the camp. The atmosphere currently seemed to be somewhat more relaxed than it had been, maybe due to the odd alliance that a portion of the Horde and Alliance had recently formed in Durotar, a relief to those who watched the Dark Portal after fighting had broken out between Stonemaul and Nethergarde Keep in the previous year.
They spared hardly a glance for the dreadsteed bearing the two women into the camp, the two members of the Rose being at least known in passing to them. Shaila hopped off the fel horse and looked up to Hinote inquisitively.
“Were we right?” She asked.
Hinote glanced at the portal, then the soulstone, then the path up to the looming, magical archways that towered over the camp. “I think so. The signal’s fainter here, which means he probably didn’t cast anything, but he was definitely here.”
Shaila walked up the ramp to the portal, until she was standing just before the eerie window into what lay beyond. She watched it for a few moments, the subtle movements of the portal itself always somewhat mesmerizing to her, before she shook her head and looked back to Hinote. “Can you tell if he went through?”
“It seems obvious to me,” Hinote replied offhandedly. “He certainly didn’t come back home.” She peered into the soulstone again, which had gone back to its dull, lightless purple color. “At the very least, he went to the portal. I’d assume he went through it after that.”
“Then I’d say we’ve cut out an entire world to search, at least,” Shaila said, smiling slightly to Hinote. “Will the signal persist through to the other side?”
“Let’s hope so.” The warlock pocketed the gem again, returning the look and smiling herself. “Otherwise we’re going to be stuck asking.”
Shaila nodded, and stepped through the portal without a moment’s hesitation. She felt the odd sense of displacement and disorientation; that strange feeling of, just for a moment, not really being anywhere. She was then standing in a broken, more corrupted version of the Blasted Lands with nothing above her but stars and other worlds and a long, wispy and beautiful strand of magic that was the Twisting Nether itself. They’d arrived to the other side, in Hellfire Peninsula.
Hinote looked at the sky - or rather, the lack thereof - for a moment. “Seems like it’s been a while...” She retrieved the soulstone from her pocket again, idly turning it in her hand as she continued nether-gazing. “Lot of places he could’ve gone here.”
“Are you getting any direction in particular?” Shaila looked at her hopefully.
The warlock hesitated for a moment, then held up the gem and looked into it. It had begun flickering wildly, alternating with varying frequency between the bright glow it had emanated previously and its usual inert state. She remained silent for a few seconds, peering at the soulstone with a mix of confusion and concern that didn’t stay hidden for very long. “I’m getting...all of them,” she said finally. Hinote stared more intently at the soulstone, but to no avail. “Something’s interfering with it. I didn’t expect it to be this bad out here, but...”
Shaila’s shoulders slumped, and she looked out helplessly to the landscape - and lack thereof - before them. She was silent for a few moments, trying to think of some way to keep up the trail. But magic was not her expertise, even if there had been a way.
“Well...I think we’ve cut down the list of possible places he could go by a fair amount,” she said. “We aren’t the only ones looking. We should go back and tell Aelflaed what we’ve found, so she can have everyone focus their efforts on Outland.”
“Yeah...” Hinote’s gaze lingered on the gem in her hand a bit longer, disappointment creeping into her expression just slightly. “I think I could get something if we were at someplace he performed another ritual, but...there’s no way I can track him from here.”
“We’ll find him. And Hino?” Shaila looked over at her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done really well, in all this. I’m really proud of you. And I’m sure Aely is really thankful already for everything that you’ve done.”
Hinote didn’t respond immediately. With a heavy sigh, she slowly pocketed the soulstone again. “Yeah...let’s just hope this doesn’t end the way it’s probably going to.”
Shaila let out a brief sigh, squeezing Hino’s shoulder once before letting go. “I hope your pessimism isn’t justified. Come on. We’ve got a worried wife to update.” She turned, and stepped back through the portal.
Hinote’s eyes drifted back into space as Shaila left. “It’s...not pessimism,” she said to herself. With another exasperated sigh, she turned to the portal and stepped towards it. “It’s pattern recognition.”
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2013 5:04 pm
Bail - Pt. 1
Late night, the Pig and Whistle
Aely looked across the table at the rogue she'd come to trust so well over the last few years. She didn't know if Lore had introduced her to Arrens, or the other way around, but regardless, they had a common thread in the missing man, and the latest reports were less than promising.
"Hinote said he almost certainly went ta Outland. An' Outland is unstable as fuck."
Lorelli nodded. "There were a whole bunch of places that de Roux said he could have gone though, right? Even Lordaeron?"
"Yeh, but... Hinote has a soulstone she charged up in his summoning circle ay th' University. She tracked his ... resonance? Fel magic is far beyond me... anyroad - she tracked it to th' Portal in th' Blasted Lands, but couldna get a read further than that. I ... dinna want ta believe he'd try sommat in Outland though. Th' farther out he goes, th' more likely this is ta end in ruins."
"Have you ruled out the demonic summoning areas of Kalimdor?"
"Th' gryphon rider here says a man wi' his description flew out south. I've na gotten a tail oan anyone at th' docks sayin' anyone sailed out, though I suppose he could ha' hired a portal. In short, I've no idea. There's some powerful areas there though - Demon Fall Canyon comes ta mind. Dinna ken if any ay it is as powerful as th' altars out in Blasted Lands, but..." Aely shrugged helplessly. "I canna figure any ay this out."
Lorelli placed a hand on Aely's shoulder but remained silent. She didn't want to offer what may end up being hollow words of false hope, as much as she willed that not to be the case. She and Aely were both much more realistic than that.
Finally she said, "I've got a list here of supplies purchased by a man matching Arrens' description around the right time frame. Sadly it's all a bit mundane and doesn't really point in any one direction. Except that he had no idea how long he'd be gone. I still can't believe he'd leave without any sort of..." She trailed off, looking to Aely with the fear she may have said the wrong thing.
"None ay this makes sense. He's too careful fir this kind ay thing usually. An' too preoccupied wi' school. Whate'er wis in tha' book, it wis strong eno' ta tempt him out ay teachin' summer classes. An' if he thought it would be a quick errand, maybe he dinna think oan leavin' a note. Or maybe he tried an' it got lost - ye ken how th' mail is up in Kun Lai. Likely I'll get a letter at Christmas. I've been stayin' at th' Monastery there, an'..." Aely sighed. "An' tha' dinna much matter now anyroad. It's all unlike him, but I'm tryin' ta keep in good faith about it until I've truly reason ta think otherwise."
"Right. As well you should. I'm free for a few days, how about I head over to Kalimdor and take a look around? With any luck we can then rule out it or Outland." She raked a hand through her hair, then paused, a thought occurring to her. "I may even be able to enlist some help."
"May be a bit ay fool's errand, but it'd make me feel better ta ken fir sure we wir lookin' ta Outland fir our answers. Ye prob'ly ken th' big fel centers as well as any, but Sarcanna mentioned Felwood an' Demon Fall Canyon, though there's other demonic spots in Ashenvale too." Aely paused. "Jus'... dinna be too long, an' dinna worry about it if ye dinna find anythin'. It's a long shot at this point."
The rogue nodded again and then was gone as if she had never been there.
Her plan when she left Aely was to meet with Prayce the next day, explain what was going on and ask if he wanted to come with her. Who better to take on a warlock hunt, than a warlock; but the lead was too good and she couldn’t wait. She left Prayce a note instead, apologizing that she wouldn’t be able to make it to the Pig and Whistle that evening and went to talk to a boat captain.
“Yeah, I think I recall someone fittin’ that description. Sailed out with us ‘bout six weeks back. Didn’t say much ‘bout where he was headed though.”
Lorelli frowned, “And you dropped him in Rut’theran?”
The captain nodded, “That I did, lass. Sorry I can’t help you much beyond that.”
Yeah, I’d like to see how sorry you’d be if I wasn’t paying you. She bit her tongue and handed the captain his promised ‘fee’. After, she want to hire a portal to Darnassus.
Darnassus would always remain one of the last places she ever wanted to be. Even just passing through made her tense, watching every shadow and corner as she navigated the streets and trails. There was just too much bad blood and too many unwanted memories. If there had been a faster way to reach Rut’theran, the rogue would have gladly taken it, as there was not, here she was.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” A voice asked in Darnassian.
Lorelli paused and turned to face the young man sitting on the steps of the shop she had been passing. He held a bottle in one hand and had his white hair pulled back in a ponytail. One of his ears was a few inches shorter than the other.
“Probably just look like someone you know. Sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry...” She said, starting to turn away.
He set the bottle down with a thud and got up. “No, I’m pretty sure I know you.” He made some sort of hand gesture and three other kaldorei men appeared from inside and around the sides of the shop. “Ashond mentioned Teal had been back in town a few months ago. Said she cleared out most of the Lowborne. We’re out of jobs now, you know that?”
Lorelli kept her face neutral and held back a sigh. “Look boys, under normal circumstances, I’d love to hang around and play Show the Lads How I Earned My Reputation but like I said, I’m in a hurry. Why don’t you try actually working in that shop instead of holding the steps down if you’re short on cash?”
A knife landed in the dirt at her feet. There was a blurring of the lines at the edges of her vision and a slithering at the back of her mind. She clamped it down and fixed the first man with a stare.
“Ashond would love to talk to you.” He said.
“M’sure he would but for the last time, I’m in a hurry .” On the last word the flash packet hit the ground. It lit the area for a moment before the smoke spilled out obscuring the lines of the buildings and the shapes of the men. Lorelli turned on her heel and sprinted away before the light had fully faded. She knew they’d recover from the effects quicker than most, but she had enough of a head start she should be able to lose them.
She headed for the raised promenade in the middle of the city and dashed from pillar to pillar. Once she reached the bridge she swung down underneath and flattened herself up against the support, knee deep in water. The rogue held her breath and waited. Eventually she heard their boot falls over head.
“How the fuck could you lose her? She was right there!” There was pause and then, “Alright. You two go that way, I’ll go this way. Call Ashond, tell him Teal’s in town and we need people looking for her now. ”
Lorelli waited a bit longer before slowly moving from her hiding spot and chancing a look over the bridge. Seeing no sign of them she turned and jogged for the portal out of town. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been spotted heading for Rut’theran, but she made it quick just to be safe.
The gryphon master also confirmed a man similar in appearance to Arrens had paid for a ride to Felwood roughly five or six weeks prior. Lorelli thanked him and purchased a ride following the same route.
Felwood was about the time she really started to wish she’d gotten in touch with Prayce before leaving. The whole area felt electric, made her hair stand on end and her skin crawl. Regardless of what he had said about demons becoming like family, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay with them. Felwood kind of felt like Outland’s skinny little brother.
The gryphon master in Talonbranch Glade, however, was a dead end. She had no recollection of anyone like Arrens at all. She suggested that perhaps instead of Talonbranch, the Professor had landed in Whisperwind Grove or the Emerald Sanctuary. Neither of them yielded any further clues either. It was getting close to midday now, getting warmer and she couldn’t help but stifle a yawn. The rogue was used to running on little to no sleep when needed, was just the heat and the light were slowing her down. She pulled up her hood but left the mask off and went to speak with the Sanctuary flight master once more.
He was a large dark furred tauren named Gorrim. “You know, you might try Wildheart Point.” He recommended. “They’re a small camp but they see travelers occasionally, too.” His Darnassian was oddly accented but he made his point just fine.
“Can you get me there?” She asked.
Gorrim nodded and pointed out one of the gryphons towards the end of his line.
The flight to Wildheart Point was a short one and the flight master there was a kaldorei named Chyella. Chyella told Lorelli she thought she recalled someone that looked like Arrens about a month or so ago but she couldn’t say for absolutely certain. He’d purchased a gryphon ride to Desolace and so that’s where she went.
Moira Steelwing at Thargad’s Camp also recalled someone matching the description Lorelli gave and said that he had departed heading east. A quick consultation of her map and the rogue figured the most likely destination for a warlock would be Mannoroc Coven.
A few hours later, empty handed and smarting from a demon encounter she trudged back into Thargad’s Camp. Moira looked at her in askance but Lorelli offered no reply. She was tired, sore, hungry, and just barely staving off a headache. The thing worrying her most, however, was going back to Aely empty handed. Her friend had said not to worry if she didn’t find anything but that made no difference, she worried anyway.
It was time to take a moment and restock. A drink would certainly help with that and the best drinks, in her opinion were in Gadgetzan.
It was early evening by the time she arrived in Tanaris. The sun was still high overhead and the light made her head swim slightly. Lorelli pulled her hood lower over her eyes trying to cut down more of the light. She had entertained a brief notion that she might make it back to Stormwind in time to join in some drinks at the Pig but there was no way that was going to happen now.
She slipped into the inn, thankful for a break from the brightness of the desert sun but it didn’t offer much in the way of relief from the heat. She grabbed a chair and ordered a drink. A few drinks later she stopped the innkeeper as he passed. On a whim, she inquired about Arrens.
“I’m wondering if you recall seeing a man in the last few weeks?” She proceeded to describe him in as much detail as possible, hesitantly adding the fact that he may have had a demon trailing after him.
“Aint seen no one like that round here, lady. Might try heading north ta Desolace. Warlocks love that place.” The innkeeper replied, replacing her drink.
She handed him her empty glass with a nod, “Thanks.”
There was a goblin at one of the other tables watching her. Lorelli pretended not to notice until he spoke up.
“Your boyfriend up and left ya, huh, sweetheart?”
She took a sip from her drink, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. “He’s a dear friend’s husband. Not that it matters. Point is, he’s missing and we’d really like to find him.”
“Not sure what anyone’d want to marry a demonfucker for.”
She narrowed her eyes even further at him having recently discovered a great distaste for the term.
He leaned forward across the table. “You don’t look like you like demons. Betcha’ like goblins though.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, which caused his ears to also wiggle a tad hilariously.
Lorelli shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “Not particularly.”
“Aw come on, once ya go green ya never go back.” He made smoochy motions with his lips accompanied by an awkward sucking noise.
Lorelli resisted the urge to throw her glass at his head. “S’what they said ‘bout orcs too.”
The goblin scowled. “What? Pretty nigh elf lady too good for us, eh? Ya’ll think yer better than us. S’my money too good for you too?”
“I’d advise you watch your tongue, sir. You’re headed into very treacherous ground.” She’d gone very still, not even her eyes betrayed that she was tracking his every move.
“I ain't scared of you. Just cuz you’re tall and pretty. Tall folk can’ keep threatening us and putting us down cuz we’re short.”
“Has nothing to do with your stature and everything to do with your approach.” She replied, her voice deadly calm.
“So what? I just didn't offer you enough?”
“That is now the second time you have implied that I am a whore. I am tired and therefore will allow it to pass. Do not try me again.”
“I got plenty of gold, Money is no object.”
Lorelli set her glass down with a clunk against the table. She rose from her chair and sauntered over to him, slow and steady. He tracked her with his eyes, traced the curves she presented.
“I knew that’s all it was. Ladies like yourself love them some gol...” He was cut off as her fist connected with his nose, a sickening crunch echoing through the inn. She turned, leaving him on the floor clutching his nose to find five more goblins had stood up and were eyeing her.
“Well, so much for my rest. ‘fraid I left my dance card on my table, first come first serve.” She was outnumbered, it was true. At that point she didn't care, she was annoyed at the goblin’s implications, baseless as they may be and frustrated with the lack of evidence in her search. The black haze slithering at the edges of her vision had nothing to do with it, at least she pretended they didn't. She left her knives where they were, however, she wanted a good fight, not a slaughter.
The small mob--pun intended--advanced and everything erupted. By the time they were done, the damage was five busted tables, eight busted chairs, two spilled drinks, three shattered glasses and five unconscious goblins. Not to mention the small garrison of Steemwheedle bruisers that had now arrived. Lorelli winced, one of them had gotten a pretty clear shot to the back of her head and she wouldn't be surprised to find a cracked rib or two. Also it was getting a little hazy and that made her nervous. So when the bruisers insisted she put her hands up, she did so.
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2013 5:06 pm
Bail - Pt. 2
At least the wall of the cell was cool. She felt like she’d been sitting in a steam pool and neglected to get out long after she should have. Her head was pounding and the haze hadn’t lifted. She wanted to sleep but she needed to figure a way out of here. They had taken her daggers, all of her back up knives and her gloves. The last of which being the most problematic as her lock picks were in the right one. Fucking goblins were far too thorough. However, for some reason, they hadn’t taken her buzzbox. Thank... something... for small favors.
She switched it on, with a quick glance at her guards and their positions. It was early in the Eastern Kingdoms, if anyone was awake it’d be a miracle, so ahw just left a message that would show up for anyone with her frequency to retrieve.
My apologies Riders. Ran into some trouble, won't be back in town until later today. Don't need bail, may need a healer, certainly need a few hours of sleep. That should at least let folk know she’d be stuck away and not to expect her. Maybe a nap and then she would get back on this escape problem.
When she woke a bit later she had message waiting. It was Prayce saying he’d be waiting for her when she got back to offer any assistance he could. She smiled in spite of the situation, fired off a reply and set about inspecting the cell. She was prodding at the lock when one of the bruisers came over and started shouting at her but he was yelling in goblin and she was only catching one word in five. Really it only served to make her headache worse.
Lorelli put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I wasn’t doin’ anything. Just wanted to ask for some water.” She followed that up with the goblin word for water which was extremely similar to the goblin word for gold which was also very similar to the goblin word for life. She really hoped she’d gotten the accent right or this could get pretty awkward. The goblin sneered at her and pointed to the bench at the back of the cell.
“Right, right. I’m goin’.” She dropped back on the seat, waited until he moved away and dropped another message to the buzzbox’s storage, much as she hated to do so. This was that whole playing well with others thing she was supposed to be working on, right? Relying on folk, asking for help? At least she hoped so.
May need bail after all. My goblin isn't that great. S’either bail or I'm finally being offered a drink...
Almost immediately she received two replies, very similar in nature but extremely different in tone.
Tarquin: Oh for fuck's sake. Where are you?
Prayce: Where are you?
So the cavalry was coming after all. This should be interesting. She felt bad, She shouldn’t even be in this situation and should certainly be able to get herself out. Headache wasn’t helping, she couldn’t focus. She called the guard over and tried her request for a drink once more. He laughed but seemed to nod and moved off.
She turned her attention back to her box. Gadgetzan . But I think we’re good here? Seems we’ve finally broken the language barrier. Did you know goblins have at least ten words for gold?
Again, an almost instant reply. Was Prayce sitting on his box waiting for messages? She was slightly flattered. I’m headed your way. Knowing goblins, they'll most likely try to double the bail money.
Or triple. She thought. No, really, it was fine. She could handle it. She started to send another message stating just that. It’s alright, that won’t be necessa.... Her guard returned carrying a mug. She smiled in relief, started to get up and was forced into an immediate ducking maneuver as he pulled back and chucked the mug at her head. It hit the wall with a clang splashing it’s contents across her and the cell.
“You green-skinned little bastard!” She spat, lunging for the bars and trying to get at him through them. He danced just out of reach and laughed at her. The black haze was creeping back and she imagined twisting his head off using his giant sail like ears as handles. She forced herself to pause, take a breath and calm down. At least the water had been cold and served to cool her off somewhat. She trudged back to the bench and sat to finish her message.
Okay. RIght. I’ll just sit tight. And as an afterthought she added. Thanks. And meant it.
Lorelli didn’t recall falling asleep and couldn’t have said what time of day it was. There was a commotion from somewhere out front, a raised voice trying to make themselves understood. A moment more of strained listening and she recognized Prayce’s voice trying to negotiate bail with whichever bruiser was on duty. She closed her eyes and silently thanked Elune and the Light and whichever other gods may have given a shit. She was up and leaning against the bars when her rescuer and his goblin escort finally made their way down the back hallway.
She couldn’t help but grin when she saw him.
“Are you alright to travel?” Prayce asked, eyeing her and then eyeing the goblin as if imagining what he would do if her answer was anything less than satisfactory. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.
“I’m fine, what are you planning?”
He reached an arm between the bars. “Not to pay the bail, that’s for certain. Grab on to me.”
“I fail to see what good this will do...” As she took hold of his arm she felt a very strong yanking sensation. There was a flash of green and then everything was suddenly far too bright and the sun was beating down on her again. She almost wanted to be back in the cell. Almost.
“Wasn’t sure the portal would take two but I had to risk it. I know you’re in no condition to travel...”
“I’m fine.” She insisted as he paused between breaths.
“...But if we don’t find ourselves scarce we’ll have much bigger problems to deal with.” Prayce started trying to pull her along behind him, but she let go and stopped.
“I can be real scarce, real easy. Get out of here and wait for me outside of town. I’ll just be a moment.” She turned and started sneaking back around to the front of the building. “And thank you.” She shot over her shoulder.
“You’re going back in?”
“My gear’s in there.” And she slid into the shadows before he could protest.
“Alright.” Lorelli said, tugging her gloves back on and checking every blade was safely back where it belonged. She never felt more comfortable then when all her gear was in its proper place.
Prayce jumped and whirled to face her, “Where did...”
“Told you, I can be real scarce, real easy. S’kind of what I do. Now let’s get out of this arid hell hole. I need to make a stop in Ashenvale and I could really use your help.”
“Are you sure you’re well enough to...”
“I said I’m fine. I’ve had enough injuries I can usually tell what bad is. This aint bad.”
What she didn’t tell him was that there was now only a small pile of goblin corpses to man the jail cells in Gadgetzan.
As they flew toward Ashenvale Lorelli filled Prayce in on the situation with Arrens. It took the better part of the trip but finally as they landed she finished. “I’m not much good with magic and fel energy and all that. S’where you come in. Not to mention pleasant company is always a plus.”
Prayce nodded, a fel hound now standing sentry by his feet. “I will do my best. This area is loaded with fel magic but if there is a trail, we will find it.” He turned to the dog-like demon, patting it on it’s scaled head and speaking to it in demonic.
Lorelli turned away, pulling her hood up and checking to make sure her daggers were loose enough for a quick draw. She turned back around and found herself staring straight into a pair of eyes attached to a large pile of fur, claws and a whole lot of teeth wearing Prayce’s clothes. For a brief moment she felt a bit of concern over what she’d gotten herself into with him but she forced a laugh. “Hairball.”
When he spoke his voice was deeper with a hint of ferocity behind it. “Let us find your man.”
They traveled in silence to avoid alerting the roaming demons to their presence. Lorelli trailed slightly behind, watching his back and sticking to the shadows. He seemed extremely focused and she knew better than to interrupt. The canyon was covered in summoning circles, old and new. What had once been part of the lush Ashenvale forest now a dead wasteland of green fire, ash and demons.
The fel hound Prayce called Khii was bounding from circle to circle, sniffing, far too dog like for Lore’s comfort. It’s tendrils flayed too and fro before it was off to the next circle and then the next before coming back around to one of the first ones again, like it couldn’t make up its mind. It paid no heed to the other demons, and if it got too far ahead while Lorelli and Prayce hung back out of sight, they didn’t seem to troubled by Khii either.
“There has been activity here recently, but there’s no way to tell by whom.” Prayce was kneeling by one of the circles tracing the patterns with a claw, seeming almost distant. Lorelli nodded, though he was paying her little attention. She had pretty much resigned herself to make sure he didn’t get jumped by a demon and pretending like she had any clue what was going on here.
“That’s comforting.” She muttered.
Prayce moved around the circle and inhaled the still crackling flames of green fire dancing there. It was hard to watch and added to her growing unease.
“Yes, fresh homage paid here.” He said.
“Homage? Dare I ask what exactly that entails? I mean, I get the tribute part, it’s what you pay tribute with that I may or may not be interested in.”
Prayce got to his feet and looked around as he replied. “You would not care to know, my dear. Usually involves sacrifice of some sort or another.”
He continued walking, “The contracts with the fel come in many forms. Depends on the bargain mostly. A crafty warlock will set the contract but many fall victim to the demons’ wit.”
They had reached a large area where many summoning circles were laid out in a pattern even Lorelli - not being versed in fel magic and summons - couldn’t miss. Prayce pointed from one circle to the next.
“Clearly there has been a rather large summoning here.” He said.
“How large is large?”
He was kneeling next to another circle. Once again a claw reached out to follow the lines of the runes inscribed there. “Large enough to be troubling.”
“But we can’t tell exactly what was summoned or how it ended? Like, say the demon ate the summoner and flew away. Or something.”
Prayce beckoned Khii over and spoke to the fel hound in demonic again. At least she assumed before and now that is what it must be. Sounded similar to Arrens’ demonic and the translations of the book Kost, Sarcanna and Hinote had given. There was a strangled yelp and the fel hound collapsed to the ground, lit on fire and burned to a pile of green tinged ash in seconds.
The rogue blinked behind her mask. It was the only betrayal of emotion given but also hidden. She wondered what exactly had just happened and if the fel hound was somehow miraculously okay. Perhaps she had been hanging around Prayce too long if she was concerned for the well being of a demon dog. She tried to read the warlock’s face for any answers. All she was greeted with was a view of what seemed to be yet more teeth and eyes that had gone completely inky black.
Finally he answered her but his voice was not the same. “It was large, yet not large enough, I think.”
“How could it not be large enough?” In her mind, any demon summoning at all was too large.
“You are familiar with gnomish devices?”
“A fair number of them, yes.” She had built a fair few herself.
“At times, they use too harsh a load on the device. Then all of it falters.”
She nodded, “Right. You blow a circuit, or the motor, or something. Okay, engineering metaphors, I can work with that.”
Prayce smiled at her but around all the teeth it was mostly just extremely feral and even more unsettling. “Exactly. I believe the ‘motor’ gave out here and they moved on. I can’t get a scent though. The overload of magic smudges them all.” He waved a great clawed hand, “I would say if your headmaster was here, he left. Demons tend to make trophies of failed masters.”
A vision of a head on a spike and strewn entrails entered her head unbidden. She was very glad she didn’t have to take that explanation back to Aely. “Yeah. that I have heard before and it’s not comforting. Arrens was no half-assed warlock, but he had a habit of getting in over his head.” She paused, “Is.” She corrected herself but it didn’t feel right. “Hells, I don’t know...”
Prayce had turned away and when he faced her again, he was all human.
“That’s going to take a little getting used.” She commented.
“I apologize. Some of what I do it quite unsettling, I know.”
Lorelli shrugged thinking back on the goblins and not feeling the least bit guilty about it. “I’m hardly one to judge, really. Some of what I do is probably unsettling too. I was referring more to the wolf.”
He offered her a smile. “I find that form more fitting for work.”
Lorelli spread her hands with a slight tilt of her head. “Makes sense. Anything stupid enough to mess with that much teeth and claws deserved to be ripped to shreds.”
“Just think of it as donning one’s armor.”
“Right.” The rogue heaved a heavy sigh, “Well, I think we’ve done all we can here. I need to report back to Aely and then sleep for a number of hours.”
He nodded and wordlessly pulled her to him. She stood there a moment, leaning on him, ‘leaning’ on the strength of another soul and grateful for his presence. They had agreed that their situation would remain fluid and that labels were not important. It was another aspect of the game and she could tell Prayce played as well as she did. Though she would never admit it to herself, part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to win.
Her eyes scanned the area one last time, willing some evidence to appear that she could take back to one of her dearest friends and present with any sort of certainty. Aely had said ‘don’t worry if you don’t find anything’ but it wasn’t enough. Not for Lorelli and not for Aely, who deserved to know.
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2013 5:30 pm
This is Kyraine's contribution - I'm posting it in her absence as she's currently internetless.
Old Town had a certain tense silence in the small hours of the morning. It had always reminded Kyraine of the feeling just before an ambush was sprung, the small hairs standing up on the back of the neck, the waiting. She kept one hand on her sword hilt as she walked. The one difference between Old Town and an actual battlefield was the distinct unwillingness of most folk in the city to start a fight if their target looked even halfway prepared to finish it.
“There’s the reputation, sure,” Kyraine muttered to Blue. “But banners make lousy shields, most times.”
Blue tilted his head, before ignoring his owner and darting for the Pig. Visits to the Pig meant crackers, food dropped on the floor, and the soup bones that sometimes came his way. Kyraine grinned and followed the wolfdog up the stairs. “Anyone here?”
Reese glanced up briefly. “There was. They’ve all gone and I’m about ready to close up for the night. There’s still some roast downstairs if your dog doesn’t steal it first.”
“Hells, we ran late, but figured there’d still be folk here.” Kyraine looked around the empty seats, and then stared briefly at Reese. “Th’ fuck happened to everyone?”
“Talk to Aely.” The bartender went back to polishing glasses as he spoke. “I don’t get paid to pay attention to anything. You know that. But you should talk to her.”
“Right.” Kyraine heaved her chestplate over one shoulder and clattered her way downstairs. It could wait until morning, whatever the problem happened to be.
“Arrens is missing?” Kyraine downed the rest of her coffee, more curious than alarmed.
“Aye, fir a good bit too. An’ it looks like he got mixed up w’ sommat demonic. Th’ warlock crew wis here an’ translatin’ notes about a book he wis studyin’. Sarcanna... new lass - white hair, creepy as fuck, dinna ken ye’ve met her? Anyroad, she translated the lot, an’ it dinna look good.”
“Anything you need. Figure, if it’s some of that demonic shite…” Kyraine paused, studying Aely. The paladin didn’t show any outward sign of emotion, but Arrens was her husband.
“Right, I’ll help. What’re you thinking?”
“Ye said ye worked with some Draenei priestess once. Outland?”
“Aye, I did. A few years back, when the Portal opened, and I’ve not heard from her since. Could be dead for all I know, but we spent time in Outland.”
“So, one ay th’ places wha’ this book suggested would ha’ th’ necessary … energies?” She seemed to search for the word. “Yeh, energies, air sommat like that, fir doin’ this type ay summonin’ an’ demonic control work. One ay th’ places it suggested, wha’ Arrens took notes about, wis Outland, specifically Shadowmoon, an’ Auchindown.”
Kyraine leaned back in her chair. “Course. I’ll get Rhett, and see if this squid priest I know can go. I can’t tell magic unless it bites me in the arse, but they can.”
“Godsdamnit, I hate portals.”
“If you’re going to puke, don’t do it here.” Rhett glanced up at the Naaru A’dal, floating in the middle of the chamber. “I bet that thing would smite you.”
“For puking on the floor? I doubt it would, but do you want to place a bet on it?” Gervas asked, grinning mischievously at Kyraine.
“Fuck you, you’d probably ask it to smite me on purpose.”
“Would I cheat to win a bet?”
“Aye, you would, and you know it too.” Kyraine took a few deep breaths as the last of the disorientation faded. “Fucking portals!”
Rhett shifted her pack from one shoulder to the other. Plenty of people thought of Shattrath as some kind of refuge. To her, it looked just like every other half ruined city she had been in. The less time spent there, the better. “Kyr, what’re we looking for exactly?”
“Explain on the way.” Gervas looked at the pair of them, no longer smiling. “If this Arrens is doing what you think he is, there isn’t a lot of time.”
Kyraine nodded and led the way outside, glancing at Rhett. The best way to handle a warlock was the same way they had handled a necromancer or three in Northrend, with a clean shot from fifty yards out before the sorcerer even knew that anyone was there. Except that this warlock happened to be Aely’s husband.
“I can’t just shoot him,” Rhett muttered, unconsciously echoing Kyraine’s thoughts. “If we find him, it’s not going to be easy to convince him to come back with us.”
“You do realize if he came here, it isn’t likely to have a good outcome. He probably will not want to come back,” Gervas said quietly.
Kyraine shrugged. “Figured as much, but if there’s a chance for Aely to get him back in one piece, we’ll make damn sure she has it. You think DeRoux was right when she said Auchindoun or Shadowmoon?”
Gervas nodded. “There are many locations where the barriers between Draenor and other planes are weak. Shadowmoon and the Black Temple especially. But there are locations in Nagrand, Farahlon, Auchindoun, and Hellfire. Anywhere that the orc warlocks opened portals or conducted rituals that weakened the barriers between this world and other planes.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, with only three of us.” Rhett extracted a stack of maps from her pack. “They pretty much fucked over this entire place. It’s a candy store for warlocks.”
“I can eliminate some of the locations,” Gervas said. “This sounds like a major summoning. Telhamat will notice if anything that major happens in Hellfire. Alendar is still living there, and he will send word if his soldiers find something. They have patrols out. And Nagrand…”
“It’s not that corrupted, compared to the rest of this world. We’ll move that to the bottom of the list.” Rhett pulled the map of Shadowmoon from the bottom of the pile. “The most likely spots first. Hellfire’s being watched by the Temple, Nagrand doesn’t have enough power to draw on compared to the other spots, Auchindoun is more necromancy and less fel.”
“But the barriers are still thin there all the same. If Arrens decided to travel to a different plane to work with this book, there are parts of Auchindoun that would be easy to depart from. You can summon demons on the elemental planes as well,” Gervas pointed out.
Kyraine leaned over Rhett’s shoulder and looked at the map. “You lot think he’d want someplace more isolated? Auchindoun’s fair close to a couple of towns, and some of your lot was camped near it for a while, Gervas.”
“They are still there, yes.”
“Alright, so that leaves Shadowmoon, Netherstorm, and Auchindoun as the three most likely spots,” Rhett said.
“Aely said she’s got someone looking ‘round Netherstorm. Oi, Gervas, do you know anyone in Auchindoun what’s not batshite crazy? That’d make it a quick look.”
Gervas sighed. “They aren’t all crazy, it… never mind. Yes, I know someone and yes, I can ask.”
“Sounds a plan then. We’ll have a chat with your mates in Auchindoun, then where? Shadowmoon?” Kyraine looked at Rhett.
Rhett nodded in agreement. “There’s more demons there than anywhere else, according to the reports I got from Honor Hold and the Aldor. Plus an altar or two. You’d need some kind of a summoning circle to yank something big through.”
“Think the three of us can handle it if he did get sommat big?” Kyraine looked at Rhett and Gervas.
“It would depend on what,” Gervas said quietly. “Miri- a warlock I know, that is, was working on something in the Black Temple, and it was too much for her to contain. You have to remember that some of these demons have been around for millennia. They are not easy to fight, they are very patient, and they have had a long time to work with fel magic. If Arrens decides to pull something like an Eredar or a pit lord through, I would want more than three to deal with it.”
“Aye, I see that. Th’ hells would he want with a pit lord?” Kyraine drummed her fingers on her sword hilt. “So best bet, we find sommat and get back to Aely quick. He’s her damn husband, if he’ll listen to anyone it’ll be her. If he won’t listen to her, I’ll sic Threnn on him.”
Kyraine paused at the base of yet another ridge. They had camped in a sheltered cave the night before, a few hours after Mutiny had dropped them off and then left for some hunting in Nagrand. Kyraine couldn’t blame the drake at all for not wanting to hang around. A gust of hot, fetid air made her stomach roll. Beside her, Gervas grimaced and shook his head.
Rhett eased her way down to them. “Are you two coming?”
“Aye, just need a minute. Pity he wasn’t in Auchindoun.”
“You’re telling me.” Rhett pulled the map out again. They had already eliminated a few locations. “Alright, we’ve got about a half a mile to go till we get to the next altar. The Altar of Shadows, according to this. Then we’ll head east for the Black Temple.”
“Good luck finding him in there,” Kyraine said. “No bloody way the three of us are breaking in.”
“We shouldn’t need to.” Gervas looked towards the east. “Find me someone there, and I’ll ask.”
“Fucking spooky priests,” Kyraine said, grinning. “Knew I asked you to come along for a reason, but might be we’ll get lucky and find sommat here. Ari, you ready?”
“Sure.” Rhett rolled up the map and started off. With the priest there, she could leave the other two further back while she scouted out the altar. Having someone else look through your eyes was, as Kyraine said, fucking spooky. Still, that spell would buy the other two time to get away and report in if anything went wrong. Given that few things were noisier than Kyraine in full armor, it was probably for the best.
She stalked forward, moving slowly through tumbled rock. No plants or trees grew here, and the sickly green glow in the sky lit everything in an eerie permanent twilight. She pressed close to a tumbled stone wall, easing slowly around it.
“She found something.” Gervas spoke with his eyes closed, still focusing on what he saw through Rhett’s. “Nothing is alive. She says we should come look now.”
“Right, let’s move.”
Rhett emerged from her hiding spot and joined them. She hardly ever looked worried, but she did now. “It looks like a bomb went off down there. There isn’t a lot left, but I’d put solid coin on someone getting in over their head.”
One look at the altar told Kyraine that Rhett was right. Scorch and blast marks littered the ground around the Altar. She knelt by one and touched it. “Fresh, innit? Or at least more recent than the rest of this fucked up place.”
“Fel magic. I have no way of knowing who it was, though, just that there is nobody here right now,” Gervas said. He stood several feet away from the edge of the Altar, studying the charred remains of a summoning circle. “Whatever they tried to summon, they lost control of it. I hope before they managed to complete the spell. Is this what you were looking for, Kyraine?”
“Aye. Think it’s time to let Aely know about it. She’s got a couple of warlocks what’ll know more than we will about this.”
Kyraine hesitated before activating her hearthstone. “Hells, Aely. Thought we’d be bringing you some good news. Figure, I’ll make sure you’ve some whiskey before we tell you anything.”
Re: Old Enemies
Posted: Sun Aug 11, 2013 9:01 pm
It wasn’t like any of the reports had been good. Hinote and Shaila had said they were pretty sure he was in Outland. Lore confirmed that he wasn’t on Kalimdor, but that he had probably tried there too. And then Kyraine came back, saying that some sort of epic fel battle had happened at one of the summoning altars in Shadowmoon, and that something … wrong... had gone on there. Not that anything good happened at the Altar of Shadows anyway, but...
There was only one place to go now.
After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up her buzzbox. Hinote? Are ye there?
The warlock responded after only a few moments. Yeah. Something happen?
I jus’ spoke wi’ Kyraine an’ her crew. They tracked him ta Shadowmoon, ta th’ Altar o’ Shadows. Found a big fel mess, came back quick. I think … Aely paused, weighing her words. I think I’d better go see it. An’ I wis hopin’ ye’d come wi’ me. Th’ shard may help there.
The next response didn’t come immediately either, but when Hinote spoke again, she did so with a determined resolve that was audible even over the box. Yeah...alright. Where should I meet you?
Shattrath. I’ll meet ye by th’ gryphon master.
There was no reply, but Aely didn’t really need one. Hinote wasn’t a woman of additional words, and she’d proved herself to be trustworthy over the last few weeks. She would be there.
Aely had one stop to make before heading for the Dark Portal, however. There was a good chance this would end poorly, and Tarquin had promised the Riders help. She didn’t think they’d need backup - things were probably already well decided, with as faint as all the trails had been - but heading into Shadowmoon Valley was never a sure thing. Outland was notoriously unstable, and Shadowmoon was about as bad as it got. While the remnants of the Deathsworn were trying to clean out the remains of Illidan’s fouled temple, there were still loose demons in the area they were headed. Someone needed to know where she was headed, in case …. well, she didn’t want to think about in case.
The Pig and Whistle was fairly quiet for midafternoon, in between the lunch and dinner crowds, but it was as good a place as any to try to find Tarquin. Aely blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the dim light inside. Other than two elves in a side table, the bar’s only visible occupant was not, in fact, Tarquin. Annalea sat at the main table, letters and missives stacked into piles in front of her.
Aely slid into a chair at the table. “‘lo, Annie.”
Annalea glanced up and set her current letter -- from the tiny, packed scrawl, likely a Merchant’s Guild squabble given print -- atop the pile to her right. “Evenin’, Aely.” She peered at the paladin a moment before asking cautiously, “What’s the news?”
“Not good. Kyr’s back fra Outland. She an’ Rhett an’ Gervas found something. Everything else’s turned up loose ends air old trails. He’s likely gone that way, an’ I need ta go an’ see about it. Hinote’s gonna bring th’ soulshard she used ta track him in th’ Blasted Lands an’ we’ll see what it turns up. I was jus’ gonna leave word so people knew where I’d gone.”
“That’s a hell of a place to be on your own. Even with Kirase.” Annalea stacked the piles atop one another, creating one big heap that, presumably, she’d be able to sort again later. “Let me get my coat.”
Aely paused a moment. “I dinna think ye need ta put yirself inta danger fir this. I’ve no idea what we’ll find, an’ I...” she trailed off, thought for a moment, and sighed. “An’ yir probably right. I told Hinote I’d meet her in Shattrath.”
“First point: we’re Riders. Letting you do this on your own isn’t even on the table.” She looked down at the papers. “Or if it was, it’s under the pile and that’s where it stays.” The grin she flashed Aely faded. “Second: another set of eyes out there can’t hurt. And if those two aren’t enough, Tarq asked if I’d go. Likely as much to keep an eye on Hinote as anything, but I’ll feel better even if I’m just standing guard while she does... whatever it is she’s planning.”
“Tarq figured oan me goin’ out there by myself?”
“Not in the haring-off-foolishly sort of sense. He wanted to make sure you had backup in case you needed to get out there on short notice.”
Aely nodded. “I dinna ken exactly what ta expect goin’ out there. Hinote’s got a soulshard she charged at Arrens’ summonin’ circle ay th’ University, so she’s got a way ta tell if he’s been there, but I think it’s just magical resonance ay some sort. Kyr found some kinda fel-looking chaos ay th’ Altar of Shadows. Whate’er is there, it’s likely not going ta be pretty. I’ll be glad t’ have ye with me.”
“Good. I promise not to instigate, either. Don’t tell Threnny, but Mama always said I was the better-behaved.” The priestess might have been lying, but her smile was damn near angelic.
Three women met near the gryphon master in Shattrath, but exchanged few words before setting out towards Shadowmoon Valley. The atmosphere was generally grim, and the fel-green ambience of the demon tainted valley only added to the sickly feeling of the entire endeavor. Kyraine’s directions said to head out to the eastern edge of the Valley, to the Altar of Shadows - that they would know what they were looking for once they got anywhere near it. After a quick stop at Wildhammer Stronghold, they set out on horseback. Hinote kept Arrens’ charged soulstone out, reading some sort of signal out of it’s mysterious flickers.
“Can ye read anythin’ out here?”
“Yes and no. There’s still too much interference, but if we can get to where he was trying to cast it, that should work.” Hinote turned back to guide her dreadsteed around a group of elementals that was passing off to the north, leaving the other two women to follow behind her.
They picked their way around the various lava pits and fel pools of the Valley, staying away from Eclipse Point and the Sanctum of the Stars, and following a lava river out towards the edge of Shadowmoon, where the altar should be. It didn’t take long before the soulshard’s erratic flickering became a soft glow, and then a steady pulse.
Hinote reigned in her dreadsteed as they approached the Altar, the earth all around it blasted with fresh scorch marks and fel ooze. Annalea was close behind. “Well, something’s been here, and whatever it was appears to have exploded.”
The warlock’s voice was constrained in response. “There was a fight here, and...judging by the marks, somebody had a bad time of things.” She took the soul shard - now glowing brightly - and began to walk it around the perimeter of the Altar, the remains of summoning circles etched into the ashen earth all around the two great pillars. “I think...it’s strong enough here that I should be able to show what happened. Or at least...some of it.” Hinote muttered a soft incantation, and the shard began to float in front of her, emitting little pulses of light and small purple bolts of energy.
Aely watched from the back of her charger, unwilling or unable to get down. “Is it... him?”
Hinote merely nodded, floating the soulstone up above the grimly stained surface of the altar. “Can you see it?”
“No. ‘s just purple flashes t’ me.”
“I can read them though. Hold on a minute.” Annalea dismounted as well, moving to stand between the Paladin and the glowing soul shard. She too muttered an incantation, and Aely felt Annalea’s presence inside her mind for a moment, before her vision snapped forward several yards. “Steady now. I think you can see it through my eyes this way. You should be able to read what it’s saying if you don’t think too hard about how you’re looking through someone else’s vision.”
Hinote began another incantation, this one channeled into the soulstone, and it bounced around above the altar for a moment, before flying over towards where Aely and her charger were standing. Aely watched as Arrens walked down the pathway, almost as though he was made of shadows instead of flesh and blood. Shaaroon wasn’t with him, which was unusual - the felguard nearly always accompanied Arrens when he was out working on things. He looked almost starved, his face gaunt and lined with years that hadn’t been there when she had seen him last, and in his arms was a large, leather bound book.
Then he vanished, and the shard danced around again, this time flying to settle in front of the altar.
Arrens appeared again, pouring something out of a vial onto the surface of the tainted altar. It bubbled and fizzed, and then seemed to absorb into the stone itself. He then lay down a chalk line in what was perhaps the most complex summoning circle Aely had ever seen, drawing directly on the altar itself. He placed several crystals at intersections on the stone, building a grid on top of the circle, and faintly, above the stone, the image of a Pit Lord wavered into view, as if through a Draenei communicator. After a few moments, he referred back to the book, and then began to chant - his voice coming through the shard with a hollow buzz. The words were not discernable, but the intent was plain. Then again, he vanished and the shard danced away.
After flitting about the two stone pillars several times, it settled on the far ledge of Shadowmoon, where the fel ooze spilled off into the nether. Well behind where Arrens was summoning, a hand reached up to grip the rock, and slowly, a great being heaved itself into view. It was covered in spikes, it’s head deformed with crests and ridges, it’s body gargantuan and muscled. It bared its teeth in a deformed, twisted mockery of a grin, stretched out one hand, and blasted a jet of fel energy directly at where Arrens’ image had been standing. Then it too disappeared.
The stone returned to it’s original floating place, above the altar, and several images appeared in rapid succession - Arrens flinging some kind of barrier spell. The Eredar laughing in his face as it blasted through the barrier and blew up part of the rock wall behind them. Another barrage of spells from Arrens, one of which hit the Eredar in the shoulder. The Eredar lunging for the book on the altar; Arrens chasing after him.
Then Arrens’ visage twisted, great wings sprouting from his back, and he transformed into the demon that Aely knew he had once fought so hard to control. The Eredar stopped, mid stride, turned, and lunged for Arrens instead, his claws raking through Arrens’ now exposed flesh. Two impossible seconds and he was in the Eredar’s grasp. And then Arrens disappeared.
The Eredar turned, as though he could hear her. The sick, twisted grin flashed across his face again, and with another incantation, he teleported.
The soul shard exploded.
Hinote stood there for a moment, stunned, though it was unclear whether it was because of the soulstone shattering or because of the scene it had played back for them. Perhaps both. She lowered her hands to her sides slowly, as if in defeat. So, she thought to herself, this is how it ends...for now, at least. The warlock let out a tiny sigh, inaudible to anyone save herself. She’d known from the start that things were likely to turn out like this, but that didn’t make it any better to see it happen. It never did.
“I’m...sorry it had to end this way,” she said somberly, not turning to face either of the other women. “I know that doesn’t help. Nothing...really helps with things like this.”
Aely slid off her charger and walked unsteadily over to the now-silent altar. “So that’s it then. Just gone?”
Hinote sighed again, more audibly this time. “Yeah...looks that way.” She looked up to the pitch-black sky for a moment, thoughtful. “And...in this case, ‘gone’ might be the worst case scenario. Even if he’s alive...nobody stays the same after being the prisoner of an Eredar.” There was a slight pause as the warlock seemed to consider that. “Who was that, anyway? Eredar don’t usually show themselves so openly without a good reason.”
Aely leaned heavily on the altar, her hands sticking in the thin layer of fel-ash that coated everything out here. “Arrens made an enemy, some years ago, ay an Eredar named Kro’thar. Said he’d bound him, an’ tossed him back where he’d ne’er be seen again. I... think he may ha’ found a way ta set himself loose. I canna think ay anyin it’d be otherwise.”
“Prisons never hold forever...” Hinote trailed off quietly. “So...somehow he got loose, and came back for revenge?”
“Seems’at way. I’d na put it past an Eredar ta have orchestrated th’ whole event, down ta findin’ that bloody book.”
The warlock pondered the idea for a moment. “I doubt it was entirely by chance that Kro’thar showed up when he did, but...I’m not sure he planned the entire thing out. It’s equally likely that he just saw an opportunity and took it.” She shook her head slowly. “Doesn’t really matter, I suppose...the end result’s the same.”
“Gone. An’... th’ soul link isn’a workin’. He’s either dead, air beyond where I can feel him. Th’ link wis supposed ta keep us both fra bein’ lost in th’ Nether. Brought him back th’ last time Kro’thar thought ta meddle. But there’s nothin’ - I’ve felt nothin’.” Aely stopped for a moment, thinking. “Gone.”
“It’s possible it was broken. Someone as powerful as an Eredar could reverse the spell without much effort.”
“Especially as it’s what thwarted him th’ last time.” Aely sighed and turned away.
Hinote looked over her shoulder at her for a moment. So this is what that looks like, she thought. A wave of guilt suddenly washed over her. How many times had she done something like this now? Was this how it looked every time? She thought of her sisters, her parents, her foster daughter, the other Roses; did they suffer like this every time she disappeared somewhere? The warlock liked to think she’d built up something of a track record of coming back whenever she abruptly vanished like that, but inwardly she couldn’t help but wonder how much comfort, if any, that really was. “There’s...nothing left for you here,” she said finally. “Whenever you’re ready to leave...we should go.”
Annalea came over then, offering a hand to Aely. She brushed it off and turned back to where her charger stood waiting. “Nothing left here. I suppose yir right.” She swung up into the saddle, and after one last look, turned and rode back up the path.