Crimson Tainted Blade, The Complete Tale (RP)

[Imara]

((Here is the complete tale, thus far. This RP is ongoing and this tale will continue. Many thanks to all involved parties for being so talented, committed and awesome in general. ;) ))

More Ghoul Than Human (by Morghoul)

There are many things Morghoul will not speak of, and first amongst those is his childhood. It is rumored that at the tender age of eight Morghoul was the center of a town ruckus. Apparently another young boy had gone out to butcher some of the family’s rabbits for their evening stew. Morghoul hid in the bushes watching from a far as the boy killed the first rabbit. The boy then supposedly tripped and fell upon the butchering knife. Morghoul then emerged from the shadows and tried to replicate what he had just witnessed the other boy doing and he began flaying the dead boy. He then allegedly took some of the meat to his small home and began cooking it. That is when the boy’s mutilated body was discovered and the town bells tolled.

A town meeting ensued and it was eventually discovered that Morghoul was cooking pieces of the boy’s flesh. Some accused him of murdering the boy, while others dismissed it all as the act of a young boy imitating what he had just witnessed without knowing better. Nonetheless, it appears that this is how Morghoul received his name… as there were many who accused him of being “more ghoul” than human.

Facing growing ostracism and suspicion in the town, Morghoul set off on his own at the age of ten. He learned to sneak into the town to pilfer what he needed. As time passed, Morghoul learned he could successfully take more and more. Eventually he became a predator of the woods and rumors started up about a mad cannibal that would slaughter any who strayed too far into the forest...

[Imara]

The Madness of Deirdre Greene (by Morghoul)

As the years went on, Morghoul could only watch from afar as his former friends grew up. He hated the town council for what they had turned him into and sought revenge. The only question was how to achieve it.

Most of his anger was centered on one individual, Baron Tyne. The Baron was a well respected and rather powerful man. He often called for the exile of Morghoul after the discovery of the flayed boy’s body. Many in the town argued against the Baron, but he swore that he could see the taint of the scourge upon Morghoul’s very soul. The Baron’s determination to rid the town of Morghoul’s presence was long remembered. So when Morghoul found himself abandoned to the wilderness he swore to become the embodiment of the Baron’s downfall.

Morghoul would often break into the nearby city’s library to steal books of law, culture and finance as he plotted the ruin of the Baron’s power. But it was not until he noticed the advancing flirtations of a young lady named Deirdre Greene that he truly found the weapon he was seeking.

A year passed and there was barely a moment that Morghoul did not have his eyes upon the Baron or upon sharpening the butchering blade he had kept from his first… trophy. He found it poetic to think about the very blade which had caused him so much grief being the same blade that would end the Baron’s life. This is when the seduction of Deirdre began. Deirdre had won over the heart of Baron Tyne and she had learned that the Baron was a true and just man with a piercing gaze, despite his fierceness in battle. In due time they became engaged and it was at this time that Morghoul emerged from the shadows he kept as company.

It is a bit uncertain how Morghoul gained her favor, but it is rumored that it was during this time that he discovered a cave to the very core of the land. In that cave it is believed that he discovered an ancient cult known as The Crimson Watch and assassinated their master to claim leadership. But this is mere speculation and he has yet to reveal the exact path toward his ascension. What is known is that there was more than simple charm that aided him in winning Deirdre’s heart and mind. He appeared to crack her very soul.

Morghoul toiled away night and day thinking of ways to win Deirdre’s affection and turn her upon the Baron. The people of the town began whispering about the man they would see coming and going from her home. Most suspected Morghoul was a messenger of the Baron’s bestowing gifts and good word to her, yet there were a few who thought Deirdre had begun cheating on the Baron.

In truth, Morghoul began preaching tales of madness and the coming of The End to Deirdre. He taught her to believe that the only path to enlightenment existed just beyond the threshold genius and in the realm of madness. He would keep her awake into the wee hours of the morning teaching her to see the absurdity of all things and the pointlessness of existence when everything she cherished could be taken away with but one single thrust of a dagger. During the nightly discussions and at her weakest moments, Morghoul began stealing more than her mind from her though. As her tears splashed upon the pages of ancient texts of chaos and entropy he would bring for her to read, he would cradle her just as lovingly as a mother would cradle a young child who just told pandarans do not exist. Just as he chiseled his way into her mind, he chiseled his way into her heart.

A mere month before Deirdre and the Baron were to be wed, her sanity seemed to be slipping to all who knew her. She would cackle at odd intervals and would erupt into a random tirade in the middle of a polite discussion. The Baron began questioning Deirdre’s closest friends about her outbursts and it was then that he learned of the mysterious stranger’s visits to Deirdre’s home.

Rather than fly into a blind rage, the Baron brought Deirdre to his home to speak with her about the mysterious man who had been seen visiting her. What exactly happened that night is a matter of speculation, but one thing is certain, the Baron’s body was discovered with a butchering blade planted into his eye socket and pieces of his body were strewn across an entire room.

The servants who discovered the scene found Deirdre crumpled in a ball upon the ground grasping onto a bejeweled severed finger of Baron Tyne. It appeared that she had spent the night crying and her eyes could offer forth no additional tears as they stared blankly at the carnage.

“He ate him… he ate him… my child is not the Baron’s... not his… he ate him… he ate him… my baby, my precious baby… forgive me… forgive me… forgive me…” These were the only words muttered by Deirdre as she was shackled by the town guards and escorted away for questioning. And her mysterious visitor was not seen again.

Deirdre spent six months in the sanitarium before she could speak coherently again. Whenever she was questioned about the crime, she would simply shake and once again find it impossible to speak. Few in the town believed her to be directly responsible for the crime, if at all… but there were the occasional mutterings in the street as she would walk past. The town council agreed that she had endured enough during her stay in the sanitarium and that the child she was to give birth to would serve as punishment enough…

Deirdre’s condition left her father shamed. He was faced with a broken daughter about to give birth to a bastard child. In his best effort to remedy the situation and take care of his daughter, he promised her hand in marriage to a merchant named Seamus Dunraven. Seamus asked that the wedding dowry be doubled if he were forced to take carry her through her mental condition and placed in care of her child. It was at this time that Deirdre and Seamus moved out to a settlement in Moonbrook, pursuing his latest business venture… And these are the circumstances fair Liadain found herself unknowingly born into.

[Imara]

SI:7 Operative Investigation Record (by Liadain)

Liadain Eliza Dunraven (AKA Keelhaul Lizzie, AKA The Unbound Wolf, AKA Lady Liadain Greyhame)

Born 23 years ago in Moonbrook, Westfall territory. Daughter of Seamus Dunraven, a merchant, and Deirdre Greene, a seamstress. No known siblings; younger brother, Aidan, died of pneumonia at the age of 5.

When Liadain was 5 years old, the Dunraven family relocated to the Dustwallow Marsh settlement, Kalimdor. Her father became a chief member of the Merchant Alliance, transporting raw materials from the marsh to the Eastern Kingdoms.

Eventually, Seamus Dunraven built and opened the first inn and tavern in the Dustwallow Marsh settlement, the Lazy Seal.

At the age of 11, Liadain became a known operative for the Southsea Freebooters, as they made a move to claim a foothold in the region. It was rumored that she was taken under the wing of one, Jordan Lystram*, a Freebooter lieutenant.

At 18, Liadain found Jordan Lystram tortured, gutted and strung up on a tree just outside what had, by that time, become Theramore Isle. Liadain was tried on suspicion of involvement in the murder but was later cleared. No further information available. Soon after that incident Liadain left Theramore.

Minimal information is available on the subject from that point until 3 years later when she resurfaced in Ironforge, advertising her services as a mercenary. Liadain was hired by one, Deebum Felsprocket*, and was in his employ for 2 years.

Soon after her arrival in Stormwind, Liadain was seen wearing the colors of a guild known as the "Time Bandits." Rumor has it that she was an officer under their leader, a gnomish mage called Mckay*.

Within the last few months, Liadain has left the Time Bandits and joined the Blades of Lordaeron. Reportedly this was due to a burgeoning relationship with Celethorn Greyhame*, the leader of the Blades. Recent intelligence indicates that the subject has, in fact, married Lord Greyhame and the couple make their home in Stormwind City.

END OF REPORT

Most current update compiled by:

Osborne the Night Man, Stormwind City

[Imara]

The Verdict: Liadain Leaves Theramore (by Liadain)

The eyes, the eyes. They gouged out his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes…

The crack of the gavel rang out like a gunshot, but Liadain did not flinch. She felt hands on her arms as two guards moved to escort her out and she heard her mother prattling on in her ear. Her mother was saying something about “lucky” and “innocent.” Lia meekly allowed the hands to lead her out of the room and toward the stairs.

Bloody. Oh, the blood. Gutted. Sliced right open. Must be dead, must be dead, please be dead.

As the small group approached the base of the stairs, an overfed merchant’s wife turned and looked down her nose at Lia. “Too bad that poor girl had to get mixed up with the likes of him. Bloody pirate got what he had coming to him…”

Signs of a struggle. Straining against the ropes. By the Light, the pain… my love, my love.

The old woman’s words cut like a knife into the fog surrounding Lia. Lia moved quickly and snatched a blade from the hip of one of her escorts. The old wife screamed and tried to get out of the way as Lia’s guards attempted to subdue their charge. Lia felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck and then all was dark and quiet.

*****

A week later, Lia stood at the end of the pier, wearing all of her worldly possessions. She had not said a word to her father and had left only a brief note to her mother, attempting to explain why she was leaving for good this time.

She could not tell any of Theramore’s citizenry why their derision upset her so and those with the power to make things right could not, or would not, do so. It was time. Time to finally sever all ties to this place. Time to break the chains and move on. Time to see the world and try to find a way to carry on in his memory.

Lia turned slowly away from the edge of the pier and started walking. She would head north to the Freebooter camps and then to wherever their ships might take her. It was time to begin the long process of trying to carry on…

I will not let your death have been for nothing, my love. I will try to find my way and continue your work and maybe someday, when I have the means, I will exact revenge on those that betrayed you.

And, thus, Liadain Dunraven left Theramore.

[Imara]

Tales of Scars, Part Two (by Liadain)

The hunting party had been combing the Wailing Caverns for hours, slaughtering raptors and other assorted reptiles. Liadain was scouting some of the smaller tunnels, looking for more of their quarry, in the hopes that she and her team could finish the job and move out. She knew that the number of Horde in the area was growing by the minute as word of the Alliance presence spread. So far, they had been able to dispatch the few groups that had attempted to attack them, but Lia knew it was unlikely they would remain so lucky.

Lia loosened her grip on her weapons slightly. She could feel the burn of newly forming blisters on her hands. This was taking far too long and requiring far too much effort.

What happened to this easy in and out hunting excursion? Apparently, someone felt it was unnecessary to mention that the scales had to be perfect...

She sighed heavily and stood up; there was not a lizard to be found in this area. Lia began making her way back toward the central tunnel.

As she rounded the corner and entered the largest of the intersections in the cave system, Lia heard a soft splash in the pool ahead of her and felt a slight rush of air off to her left. Instinctively, she crouched; her senses piqued. She started to slip quietly toward the shadows of the cave wall but then she saw him.

A large troll crept through the dim light before her, his mouth pulled back in a sneer. Lia's heart pounded as she stood, frozen, weighing her odds.

It’s just one troll. If I dispatch him quickly enough he won't be able to alert anyone else.

With that thought, she slowly moved forward. The troll's gaze shifted to Lia as he saw her movement out of the corner of his eye. He laughed and the sound was like the low rumble of thunder. The look on the troll's face made Lia hesitate for a moment, he looked almost... smug. It was then that she felt the cold presence behind her and her breath caught in her throat.

Her adrenalin surged and Lia whipped around, raking her blades across the abdomen of her unknown assailant. She found herself face to face with a Forsaken, his yellowed eyes glinting with a hint of amusement as he took two steps back and brought his daggers up to strike.

Lia stepped back as she parried the undead's first assault with her sword. He feinted as she tried to take the offensive and managed to bring one of his poisoned daggers around into her thigh, slicing through the leather and breaking the skin. Though it was not a deep wound, she could feel the numbing toxin dulling her reflexes.

Lia spun out of the Forsaken's reach, her feet splashing in the shallow pool at the center of the cavern, as she stabbed forward with her dagger and left a deep wound on his shoulder. She struggled to fight the effects of his poison as she glanced behind her, trying to locate the troll who had vanished into the shadows. Her vision blurred and she blinked hard trying to focus. The moment's hesitation was all the opportunity her assailants needed.

They were on her in an instant. The troll appeared behind her and brought the hilt of his dagger down hard at the base of her neck. Lia staggered, trying to stay on her feet, as the Forsaken struck her hard across the face. She could taste the salt of her own blood in her mouth as her vision flickered. She made a futile attempt to bring her sword around but the undead easily dodged the attack and landed another blow, this one squarely in her abdomen.

Lia fell to her knees in the stagnant pool. The troll's rumbling laughter filled her ears as he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. A few words were exchanged, and then the Forsaken took her by the arm and dragged her into a shadowed recess. Lia stumbled behind him, barely able to control her own movements. She franticly tried to fight the numbness as a knot of terror formed in her stomach.

They could just finish me off… Why don’t they do it?

Once they were out of the main thoroughfare, the Forsaken moved behind her, wrapping one boney arm around her neck and using the other to pin her arms. Her senses were assaulted by the stench of him; the stench of rotting flesh and fresh dirt. In a panic, she mustered enough strength to buck against him, desperately trying to free herself. Her head hit him hard, square in the jaw, but his grip only loosened for a moment before he tightened his hold. She gasped as his arm crushed her throat.

“Hush… My child… We have won. You are ours to play with… little mouse… Pale little mouse…” His common was slow and deliberate and his voice sounded like stone being ground. His words sent a shiver of terror up her spine and she tried once more to struggle free of his grip as the troll moved toward her menacingly. The undead deftly kneed her in the back and she fell limp once more.

The troll made quick work of removing her tunic. He muttered a few words in his native tongue before he slowly and deliberately lowered his dagger to the flesh of her abdomen. Liadain felt the sharp sting as the dagger made a shallow trail across her skin. She cried out, but the Forsaken’s arm promptly silenced her. Several minutes passed and the troll continued his work. Soon her abdomen was drenched in blood.

Suddenly, he stopped. Lia’s head was swimming but she struggled to focus and she heard what had caught her assailants’ attention. A group was coming up the cavern and she could hear them calling her name. A wave of relief washed over her. She heard the undead bark something to the troll. The troll frowned, running a hand across her abdomen. The Forsaken growled at him and the troll nodded, hefting his dagger.

Liadain watched through the fog of her mind as the dagger came up. She felt strangely detached, but somewhere in the back of her mind an alarm sounded. She tried half-heartedly to struggle but was unsuccessful and the dagger came down swiftly. It struck her chest, slipping between her ribs and settling a hair’s breadth from her heart. Lia screamed as the pain lanced through her, overriding the numbing effects of the poison and the pain of her other injuries. She heard a commotion in the distance as her companions heard the sound.

The troll growled, as the Forsaken hissed at him, and he twisted the dagger before yanking it out. Lia’s head was spinning and she could feel her arms and legs growing cold. She fell to the floor in a bloody heap as her enemies faded into the shadows, leaving her for dead. The world faded away.

Lia awoke outside the cavern, vaguely aware of the paladin, Maldrick, touching her as Deebum dumped some sort of concoction down her throat. Maldrick rose slowly and pulled her up to lean on his shoulder. She gritted her teeth at the pain and felt warm blood trickle down her chest.

“I know, lass. I know. It’s the best we can do for now. We have to get moving.” He paused for a moment. "Here…” He dug around in his bag until he found a flask and he lifted it to her lips. She felt the strong brew burn all the way down, but she drank it greedily. “Alright, let’s move out.”

Lia didn’t remember much of the trip back to Stormwind, as she faded in and out of consciousness. When they arrived in the city, Deebum and Maldrick took her to the inn and tended to her as best they could. Once she seemed to be resting comfortably, they left her. The next morning, her friend, Rashida, appeared and insisted on taking care of her. For the next several days, she was incapacitated as her wounds healed. She drank more than her fair share to alleviate the pain and the boredom.

Eventually, the scratches on Lia’s abdomen healed with nary a reminder, but the nasty wound on her chest was another story. Thanks to Rashida’s diligence, it healed well, but it scarred; a jagged scar, thickest at the middle where the dagger was twisted. This scar would serve as a constant reminder of her mortality.

[Imara]

Coming Home (by Liadain)

Liadain stood on the pier, looking at the people milling about within the walls of Theramore. She had passed through here many times over the last few months but she never stayed long enough to leave an impression. She knew that there were still many here who would remember her. Many who would remember Jordan and the controversy surrounding his brutal death. And, of course, very few who knew the truth of it.

Today, she was here about the future. She was, in fact, here to reconcile some of her past with her future. She set her jaw and began the walk from the docks to the inn. When her parents had first established the inn here, they had called it “The Lazy Seal.” These days she didn’t know if it even had a name. She had heard that her father had decided to sell the inn, due to his deteriorating health, a couple of years earlier. She wondered if the bastard was even alive now.

----------------------

Angry tears ran down eleven-year-old Liadain Dunraven’s face as she hastily packed all of her clothes into her backpack. Her mother stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed and worry etched into her features.

“Liadain… honey.” Deirdre Dunraven whispered.

“No, mama. I’m not staying.” Lia sniffled. “I can’t. Not here. Not with him. The pirates will take care of me.” Lia fumbled with the buckles on her bag.

“But Liadain… He’s your father…” Deirdre jumped as the imposing figure of Seamus Dunraven filled the doorway.

“What’s going on here, eh?” Seamus’ voice was cold. Lia could feel every muscle in her small frame tense as a mixture of fear and hatred swelled within her. “What are you doing girl?”

Lia’s voice was a whisper. “I’m… I’m leaving.”

There was a heavy silence before Seamus spoke again. “Leaving?” He growled. “You little #@%$!!. It’s too much to ask that the little brat serve her father. After everything I’ve done for her… Raising her…” He took two long strides into the room and grabbed Lia by the arm roughly, his fingers digging into her flesh.

“Seamus! Don’t!” Deirdre moved forward, hands outstretched.

Lia looked up at him defiantly, even as her small frame shook in fear. Seamus looked from her to her mother before letting Lia go roughly. “Fine. We’ll let her go. Little !@!#& wants to run off and screw sailors to make her way in the world. So be it…”

Liadain grabbed her bag and ran from the room before her father could see her cry.

-----------------------

Lia stopped in the inn’s entryway and scanned the few patrons having breakfast. Most of them appeared to be travelers, with a few regulars in the mix. The only familiar face was that of Smiling Jim making his way through the crowd. She nodded to him and he pointed toward the table by the fireplace.

Lia looked in the direction Jim was pointing and she saw her. Deirdre Dunraven sat in a chair before the fire, looking startlingly frail. Lia took a deep breath and walked over to her mother. Deirdre didn’t notice her until she had come all the way around the table. When she finally looked up, she practically leapt to her feet.

“Liadain!!” Deirdre embraced Lia tightly.

“Hello, Mama.” Lia smiled softly and returned the embrace. “You should sit…”

Deirdre moved to sit back down and Lia sat in the chair next to hers. Deirdre reached out and ran a hand through her daughter's closely cropped hair. “Still wearing your hair like this… You’ll never find a suitable husband with hair like that, my dear.”

Lia laughed softly. “Actually, Mama, That’s why I’m here. I wanted you to know that I have found someone and that we are to be married. I… I don’t know. I thought it might bring you some happiness.”

Deirdre’s face broke into a smile. “Of course it brings me happiness, you silly girl.” She leaned forward and kissed Liadain’s cheek. “And are you happy?”

“Very much so, Mama.” Lia gazes into the fire. “I’ve not felt anything similar to this since Jordan and this… it’s even stronger than that somehow.”

Deirdre’s smile wavered slightly at the mention of Liadain’s first love, but she recovered and took Lia’s hand in hers, squeezing it. “That is wonderful, Liadain. And does this knight in shining armor have a name?”

“Celethorn Greyhame.” Lia turned back to her mother, smiling. “He’s a Ranger… He actually hails from Lordaeron.”

Deirdre nodded slowly, thinking. “Aye… The name sounds vaguely familiar.” She shrugged. “At any rate, at least his not a pirate.”

Lia’s gaze darkened slightly. “Mother…”

“I know, Liadain. I’m sorry. I appreciate you seeking me out to tell me, dear girl. I worry about you… You know your father died two months ago now. I tried to track you down to tell you, but I wasn’t sure where you’d be.”

Liadain frowns. “How did he die?”

“It was pneumonia. His health had been failing for quite some time and he finally caught something he couldn’t fight off.” Deirdre looked wistfully into the fire. “The house has been empty without him.”

Lia shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that he died. But you’ll forgive me if I don’t weep.”

Deirdre looked at Lia sadly. “Liadain, he always tried to do his best by you. You shouldn’t be so heartless.”

“Mother, you know that is not true. He never gave me a moment’s peace. I could never do anything right and when I finally started to make my own way in the world he attributed it to my way with men.” Lia looked away.

“He…” Deirdre shrugs. “I guess there’s no easy way to explain it Liadain.”

Lia sighed heavily. “Well, Mama. Maybe now is the time. I’m getting ready to be married… I might have a family someday and the thought scares me. Why? Because the only example of such a life that I have is the mockery of a marriage you and father had and the abusive relationship he had with me.”

Lia’s tone was even, but it was obvious that the words stung Deirdre deeply. “There was a lot you didn’t know, Liadain.”

“Then tell me… now.” Lia turned back to her mother and sat back in her chair, waiting. “That’s part of what brought me here. I need to understand, so I can learn.”

Now it was Deirdre’s turn to look away; her deep brown eyes growing distant as she looked into the firelight. “Well then. I suppose I should start with the fact that Seamus was not really your father.”

Lia’s world stopped for a moment. “What?”

“I was already carrying you when Seamus agreed to marry me. My father had nearly doubled my dowry to compensate for the fact that I was so shamed. Seamus liked me well enough and he saw it as a very lucrative business venture.” She looked down. “He tried very hard to be a father to you Liadain. It was always hard for him though. Especially after Aidan died and he knew that he would never have a child of his own.”

Lia sat dumbfounded as this revelation slowly sank in. “But… Who?”

Deirdre’s gaze returned to the fire. “It doesn’t matter, Lia. Your real father is most likely dead and… There are some things best left alone.”

Lia could feel her cheeks growing hot. “What the hell does that mean? You tell me that the man I thought was my father was, in fact, nothing more than an opportunistic vulture and you won’t tell me who my father really is… was??”

Deirdre looked up at Lia, sadly. “It is my shame to bear, Liadain. Not yours. If I thought that it would make any difference I would tell you. But it will not, not now. All of that is ancient history. Just know, Lia, that I did have a love once and I managed to lose it through my own weakness. You can be happy with this Ranger… Greyhame. You must just be vigilant.”

Lia’s confusion and anger felt like a rock in the pit of her stomach. “I… I must go, mother.” Lia stood hastily, trembling slightly.

Deirdre rose and put a hand on Lia’s shoulder. “I know this is hard, Liadain, but you are still the same woman you were five minutes ago and your life will go on as it has been and you will be happy. My wayward daughter…” Deirdre kissed Lia’s forehead gently.

Liadain looked at her mother for a long moment, her face a mixture of rage and exasperation. “You’ll understand mother, if I don’t feel I can be certain of that…” Lia turned to the door. “Safe travels, mama.”

Deirdre Dunraven sat down heavily, as her only daughter hurried from the inn, and cried.

[Imara]

An Excerpt (by Liadain)

From a note Lia sent to Celethorn:

I have been having some difficulty sleeping lately, my love. I have probably been overworking myself to keep busy but, when I do finally succumb to the need for rest, my sleep is often plagued by these strange, anxious dreams of shadows and the unknown. I have no doubt it is, in part, due to my conflict over what to do about my real father. Whether or not to delve further into finding out who he is...

I took Sanrin's advice and went to the library. I looked up town registries for various small towns in Lordaeron and I did find one with a few entries for Deirdre Greene. It appears that she was, in fact, to be married to a Baron Tyne prior to her marriage to my... adopted father. However, Baron Tyne was apparently murdered just before the wedding. There was not much more information beyond that. However, I can certainly infer that the Baron might have been my real father...

[Imara]

The First Hunt (By Morghoul)

Morghoul strode forward into the room of gathered assassins, eyes aglow. “Greetings, assassins.” The silence returned in response spoke loudly.

“I gather you this evening to carry out a deed of utmost importance to me. My daughter... yes, you heard that correctly… Liadain is yet among the living.” The eyes of the gathered assassins peered at one another to read the reactions throughout the room.

“I believe it in her best interest to join our cause, but I know that she shall not be swayed easily. She has spent too many years outside my tutelage. I wish to be certain that her conversion to the undead goes flawlessly and I insist that she retain as much of her beauty as we can afford her. I will not accept failure. There are two things we will need for our first reanimation trial.” Small movements from the gathered rogues betrayed some of the unease in the air.

“First, we will need a piece of her flesh to work the reanimation upon. I recommend a small finger for this. Sever it cleanly at the joint. Carry one of these embalming flasks with you at all times, as this will be necessary for proper preservation of her flesh while it is transported.” Flasks were placed upon the aged table as the assassins reached out for them in silence.

“Second, our alchemists have learned of a recipe in alliance hands that is said to slay the forsaken as well as convert the living to the undead. It is being referred to as the ‘Nostrum’ and we have good reason to believe it is in the possession of an old dwarf named Garbhan. Seek him out and do whatever is necessary to obtain the recipe. Do not kill him just yet, as we may be able to pilfer more discoveries from his work in the future. Beating him into submission is perfectly acceptable…” Morghoul shifted his stance before continuing.

“So as you can see, the task before you all is twofold. Return the severed small finger of Liadain to me and retrieve the nostrum formula. Those who complete one or both these task will be rewarded in our ranks.”

[Imara]

The Pain of Truth (by Liadain)

Liadain stands in the middle of a dead field, surrounded by ghouls and skeletons. Her expression is impassive as she moves fluidly from stance to stance; gutting, hacking and slicing the undead around her. Her armor is covered in blood and ichor, but she seems unphased. She concentrates only on the rhythm of the battle at hand.

Strike. Strike. Eviscerate. Strike. Strike…

-----

“Mama?” Liadain slipped in the front door of her mother’s house, glancing around at the modest but adequate furnishings. Her mother never had been one for excess. As the front door closed softly, Deirdre Dunraven came in from the kitchen, smiling brightly.

“Liadain! I didn’t know you were stopping by… I would have cooked something.” Deirdre wiped her hands on her apron and moved to hug Lia. Lia smiled and returned the embrace. “Have you married that man of yours yet?”

Lia laughed softly. “Aye. The wedding was a week ago.”

“Well, I imagine it was lovely. Did you wear a dress? Please, girl, tell me you wore a dress…”

“Aye, Mama. I wore a dress.” Lia settled in a chair as her mother moved to sit opposite her. “In fact, I did nothing that would have embarrassed you.”

Deirdre smiled and reached out to squeeze Lia’s knee. “Good. I’m glad to hear that it went well. So… why the visit today?”

Lia sighed and studied her mother for a moment before she spoke. “I… have been thinking about what you told me when last we spoke. About father.”

Deirdre’s brow furrowed. “I told you not to concern yourself with that, Liadain.”

“Well, Mama, I have. I think I have a right to know who my real father is, after all.” Lia sat forward. “Or who he was.”

-----

Liadain grunts as the cold chill of the skeleton’s ice bolt permeates her flesh and she falls to a knee as the ghoul brings his fist down on the back of her neck. She screams and brings her blades up, severing the skeleton’s spine as she gets to her feet. She clenches her teeth.

Gouge. Strike. Strike...

-----

Deirdre rose suddenly and walked away toward the front window. “There are things better left unknown, Liadain.”

Lia sighed and looked into the distance. “Mama, you know me. I can’t let this rest. I need to know who he was. I need to know the sort of man he was… If he was better than the man who took his place.”

“He… was not. Let this go, Liadain. Please.” Deirdre’s voice faltered.

Lia rose and walked over to her mother, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Mama. Was it Baron Tyne?”

Deirdre looked as though she had been struck. “Tyne…”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I had to know. I looked into it. I found records and they indicate that you were to marry this Baron but that he… died.” Lia had turned away from her mother to walk back across the room and did not see the mixture of confusion and anger on Deirdre’s face. She turned back to find her mother staring at her. “Mama?”

“Died… died.” Deirdre laughed and the sound was strained and unnerving. “Tyne was… murdered. Murdered.”

Lia nodded slowly, uncertain of how to react to her mother’s change in demeanor. “Aye. The records indicated such... Was he my father?”

Deirdre’s laugh was chilling.

-----

Liadain feels the snap of bone as she buries her dagger to its hilt in the chest of the ghoul. She twists it savagely and yanks it out. The ghoul falls at her feet in a heap and she dives over the remains, out of the way of the other two undead. She rolls to her feet and braces for the next assault.

Strike. Strike. Kidney shot. Strike…

-----

Lia looked at her mother with growing unease, a hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of her sword. “Mama?”

“No. No. Not your father… Your father ate him. Ate him. Entropy. Decay. The way of the world… The way of the world…” Deirdre sank slowly to the floor under the window. “The way of the world until the River of Blood that shall herald the end of all.”

Lia’s confusion was apparent. She moved quickly to her mother, crouching next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Mama… I’m sorry. Please stop. I won’t ask any more questions.” Lia rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, holding her.

Her mother shook, sobs wracking her body for several moments before she finally calmed a bit. “Liadain…” She whispered. “I’m sorry for my weakness. You must be ever vigilant lest he take you too.”

Liadain frowned. “Who, Mama?”

“My beautiful Liadain. Beware the Crimson Lord…” Deirdre’s whisper was so soft Lia almost couldn’t hear her. Suddenly, in one smooth movement, Deirdre slipped Lia’s dagger from its sheath and buried it in her own abdomen.

-----

Liadain raises her sword over an incapacitate ghoul and grunts as she brings the blade down. The ghoul’s head rolls off into the dirt and Liadain kicks it out of the way as she rounds on the last of her enemies.

Strike. Strike. Eviscerate…

-----

“Mama! Bloody hell...” Liadain lowered her mother to the floor, prying her blood soaked hands away from the hilt of the dagger. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” Lia set her jaw and grabbed her medical supplies from her backpack. Through a fog of shock and distress, she tended the wound well enough to stop the bleeding. “I will not let you leave me like this.” She looked up at her mother defiantly.

Deirdre opened her eyes and looked at Liadain sadly. “The dark wrath of these shall be strong, and the blood of thousands shall fall from their terrible powers.” Her voice was weak and her face pale.

“That may be. But right now, no one is falling to anyone’s dark wrath.” Liadain’s face was a mask of determination as she proceeded to take her mother to the infirmary in the barracks.

A few hours later, Liadain stood just outside the doorway of the infirmary, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on her mother’s still form. Doctor VanHowzen left Deirdre’s bedside and walked over to Lia.

“She’s going to be fine, but it will take some time and… I cannot speak to her mental state. She seems… quite disturbed.”

Lia nodded. “Aye.” There was much more Lia could say, much more she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come. “You can keep her here, aye? Take care of her here?”

VanHowzen nodded. “For as long as we can. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Once her wounds have healed, she can probably be moved. Lady Greyhame… Might I ask what happened?”

Lia looked at him and shook her head. “I only wish I really understood myself. Take care of her, Doctor.” Vanhowzen nodded as Liadain turned and left the barracks without another word.

-----

Liadain stands over the broken bodies of the undead, her blades held loosely at her sides. She takes a deep breath and steps over the carnage; walking deliberately toward the ruins of Andorhal. A single tear rolls slowly down her cheek.

[Imara]

A Note Sent (by Morghoul)

Morghoul penned madly onto an enchanted scroll that would encrypt his words.

Lord Mordant, in your absence a great many things have transpired. My wayward daughter appears to be growing more and more ambitious. While this does not surprise me, the company she has chosen to keep disturbs me. I had figured that the crimson madness would claim her with little intervention on my part or that her incessant curiosity would lead her to me sooner than it has. Nonetheless, she and the Blades are problem we shall be addressing. I am dispatching our assassins to claim something from her… something I believe will prove most valuable in changing her mind about things. As you know, I do not wish my bloodline continued into The End Days. I shall suffer enough already.

It has also come to our attention that an old dwarf named Garbhan has a certain recipe we are must come into possession of. It is being referred to as the “Nostrum.” It appears to have rather startling qualities. Primarily, it has been witnessed to cause the near instantaneous final death of Forsaken it comes in contact with. More curiously, it also is believed to be capable of turning the living into Forsaken while preserving the flesh to such a degree they appear to still be among the living. I have little doubt that you can see what my plans are for this. I also believe it may prove useful in our opposition to Lady Sylvanas. As you know, I grow weary of the game we play with her. The sooner she is toppled by the forces of entropy, the better. Even the Lich King was better than this mockery.

I eagerly await the Day of Awakening… when our Crimson Lord unleashes his vengeance upon the land of Azeroth. It cannot come a day too soon. But we must make ready. Our troops grow eager for carnage and they shall have it. I plan to begin collecting blood from the Blades as an offering into our crimson river if she proves resistant. If our rogues should fail in their task, I will ensure that she yet sees the wisdom of joining our cause carved into the disemboweled corpses of her comrades. The End approaches, my brother.

[Imara]

Revelations and Decisions (by Liadain)

“The Crimson Watch…” Liadain muttered as she walked into the Forlorn Cavern, a frown playing across her lips. If the information Celethorn gathered was to be believed, the situation with her real father might be every bit as complicated as she had feared.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she stopped and peered into the shadows. A man slipped smoothly into view and Liadain’s tense expression faded. “Gallows, my friend, how are you?”

Gallows smirked and bowed deeply before stepping forward to kiss her cheek. “I am well. And how is my favorite Blade?”

“I’m making it. Isn’t that always the way?” She smiled. “Come, sit.” She moved over and sat on the steps of The Traveling Fisherman.

Gallows sat next to her and reached out to squeeze her knee. “It often is, but I always hope for better for you, my friend. I have another note from your mother. She continues to improve, though she is still not feeling up to writing on her own.” He deftly slipped a folded parchment out of his tunic pocket and handed it to Lia.

Liadain took the note from him and unfolded it, skimming the words which were written in Gallows’, now familiar, flowing script. She looked up at him. “She still remembers little of how she sustained her wound?”

“Aye. It would seem that she is blissfully unaware of the events that transpired that day. She and my aunt are getting along famously. They are already making all sorts of plans for when your mother is ready to help out around the house.” Gallows flashed a sardonic grin.

Lia laughed softly. “Thank you again for your help, Gallows. The more I find out about my father, and the threat he may pose, the more I think hiding her out of the line of fire is the best thing we could have done.”

Gallows reached up and mussed her hair playfully. “No need to thank me, girl. I take it you’ve gathered some more information?”

Lia gave him a half-hearted glare as she smoothed her hair. “Aye. Celethorn has confirmed the existence of a cult known as The Crimson Watch, with several powerful Forsaken leaders. Obviously, it’s not too much of a stretch to connect them to my mother’s ravings about a Crimson Lord.” She sighed heavily. “In addition, one of their number, apparently, has been linked to the incident where I was attacked in the Wailing Caverns.”

Gallows’ expression had grown serious and he studied her intently. “You think the Forsaken that came after you could have been your father?”

Lia nodded, looking off. “Perhaps. And, if that’s the case, it probably means he’s already well aware of my activities and whereabouts.”

“So what do you intend to do now?” Gallows asked quietly.

“I… don’t know. The easiest plan, of course, would be to disappear and try to outrun him until he finally catches up to me and I have to face him.” She shook her head. “Or I can continue on as I am now, ever on alert for his next move. Hoping that he doesn’t choose to get to me through those I care about.”

Gallows took her hand and squeezed it. “Though I know how tempting it is to run, you must remember that there is safety in numbers sometimes. You are always trying to protect everyone else, maybe it’s time you let some of us protect you.” He smiled. “Besides, if you were to run off Celethorn would probably do something foolish and die anyway.”

Lia smiled again, in spite of herself, and chuckled. “Aye. I keep telling him that we need to face the world together and here I am considering running away…” She shrugged. “Well then, I suppose all that’s left is to wait and be ever vigilant, eh?”

Gallows nodded and stood slowly, turning to kiss her forehead. “I suppose so, my dear. I’ll continue to keep my ear out for anything that might be of use to you and I’ll continue to make sure that your mother is safe and comfortable. You know, as always, that if you need me you only need to send word and I’ll be here.”

Lia smiled and allowed him to help her to her feet. She nodded. “Thank you again, my friend.”

Gallows bowed deeply and slipped back into the shadows as Lia headed across the Cavern to the Rogue’s Guild, the note from her mother still clutched in her hand.

[Imara]

Identity (by Liadain)

The front door slammed into the wall as Liadain stormed into the house. She looked battered and there was blood oozing slowly from a slice in the armor covering her abdomen. She limped across the room to disarm, throwing her swords onto the table, and started unbuckling her chest piece.

“It was him.” She muttered as she gingerly pulled the leather out of the gouge on her side.

“It was who?” Celethorn stood at the foot of the stairs, watching his wife with no small amount of concern.

Liadain looked up, her eyes burning with an odd mixture of fear and anger. “My father.”

She said it with such certainty that Celethorn was unsure how to respond. Liadain began gathering supplies to tend to her wound, but he moved forward and grabbed her hands. “You. Stop. I’ll tend to that. Tell me what happened.”

Liadain reluctantly set the bandages and salves on the table and sat down. Celethorn knelt before her and started cleaning the wound. She exhaled through her teeth and waited for the numbing agents in the salve to dull the pain before she spoke. “The Crimson Watch attacked the tram this evening. Myself and several of the Blades arrived to help in the defense. We were successful at first, but soon their numbers made any real counter-attack almost impossible without more forces.”

Celethorn smirked. “I appreciate the report, Sergeant Major. Now, do you intend to tell me what you meant by it being your father?”

Liadain looked down at her husband and frowned. “He was there, Cele. In the midst of one of our assaults, I saw him. It was the rogue that attacked me in the Caverns… You were right.”

“And how can you be so certain now that he’s your father?” Celethorn kept his focus on Lia’s wound, but she could sense the tension rising within him.

“I could feel it, Cele; like I’ve been feeling all those things in Lordaeron lately.” Lia shuddered involuntarily. “When I saw him and our eyes met… It was like I heard the screaming of a thousand tortured souls.” She swallowed hard. “It was so intense I nearly dropped my swords, so they cut me down and…”

Celethorn looked up from placing bandages, a dark blue glow burning in the depths of his eyes. “And what?”

“And he blew me a kiss as I fell.”

Lia could feel the tremor run through Celethorn as he fought the urge to leap up and go out in search of blood. “He…”

“There’s no sense in chasing after them now.” Lia rose stiffly. “Right now, I need rest and I need you here with me.”

Celethorn rose with her, the blue glow in his eyes much more pronounced. “I’ll kill him.”

Lia smiled ruefully and nodded. “I think that time will come.”

[Imara]

From the Journal of Liadain Greyhame (by Liadain)

I’ve just returned from the Royal Library, where I enlisted the aid of Donyal Tovold in translating the tome that Ragarol gave Celethorn. It appears to be a volume called "The Prophecy of St. Gregarion" and, as we suspected, it contains prophecies of entropy, chaos and the coming reign of this “Crimson Lord.”

I felt sick to my stomach and my head was pounding as he read the words aloud. In truth, I almost felt as I do whenever I encounter my father. It did not help matters that the text so closely echoed the words my mother spoke the day I witnessed her sanity slipping away. I shudder to think how she became so familiar with the Watch’s ideology.

And now, the question I keep asking myself…

How do you fight a foe that thrives on the very bloodshed that would be necessary to defeat them?

[Imara]

A Reply (by Mordant)

Lord Morghoul,

It seems our plans are progressing as desired, despite the necessity for me to be cloistered in our libraries. I believe I have discovered the passages you are seeking, and have laid them out accordingly in preparation for the success of your rogues.

Upon acquisition of your "artifact," have it brought to me for ritual cleansing and prayers to the Crimson Lord before you administer this reagent to it. I have reason to believe, based on historical texts of our great Lord's first Awakening, that certain admonitions to his Grace shall prove fruitful to your convertive work.

Nevertheless, I believe your plan to be sound and, seemingly, backed by the texts of old. I shall scour the Prophecies for indications of your eventual success and shall make these known should they be found. I would wish you and your rogues good luck, but with fortune (and the future) on our side - we cannot fail.

The Crimson Lord beckons and we chase his echoing footsteps. Not much longer now...

Mordant

[Imara]

Checkmate, Part One (by Morghoul)

The assassin, Bornn, rode his undead steed swiftly out from Undercity upon word from Master Morghoul’s agents. It seemed that Liadain had been spotted in the Western Plaguelands, but that the agent who had discovered her was not seasoned enough to take her down himself. Bornn knew that if he were the one to carry out the deed he would gain much favor with Morghoul and The Crimson Watch. And that favor could translate to a great deal of power before The End.

Bornn had been told that Liadain was traveling swiftly through the Plaguelands and that she may not be at the original location where she was spotted by the time he arrived. As he entered the Plaguelands he discovered that she was indeed not where he had hoped she would be. He then began riding through the land while avoiding its menacing inhabitants. Location after location, he found signs of fresh battle, but not Liadain.

Using the magical device he had been given by Morghoul, he conveyed his findings with dread.

“Master, I believe she has escaped. I fear I have failed to locate her in time before her departure. I swear that I…”

“Damnit! Find her!” Morghoul interrupted. “Our assassins have failed in finding her for too long! Must I come out there myself to finish the task at hand?” Bornn had the creeping suspicion that Morghoul was likely already en route to deal with the hunt himself.

“No, I shall continue the search. Perhaps I can intercept her as she tries to depart. In fact…” Bornn paused as he crested a hill and spotted a small encampment below him. An icy thrill ran through him as he silently slid off of his mount and hid it behind the hill.

“Master, I have found her!” Bornn hissed lowly into the magical device. “She’s at the southern encampment, but extremely well guarded. I fear I will not be able to take her amidst the guards there.”

“I approach, Bornn. You may yet be rewarded.”

“Understood.” Bornn responded.

“Keep her in your view at all costs and look for even the slightest avenue of attack.”

“I shall.”

Morghoul sped his steed across the scarred landscape of the Plaguelands until he neared Bornn’s position.

“Master, she’s moving… in fact, she’s heading right for you!”

Morghoul could not believe his good fortune as Liadain rode forth from the encampment straight toward his position on the road. Morghoul knew that the guards would respond swiftly if he attacked her immediately as she rode past him, and it took an act of painful will for him to allow her to pass.

Morghoul beckoned Bornn to follow with hand signals and the two tried to track the footprints of her stunning steed. As they perched atop a small hill they spotted Liadain pausing near an infected pool’s edge, as she appearing to be taking in the carnage spread out before her…

[Imara]

Checkmate, Part Two (by Liadain)

Liadain had been slaughtering undead around Andorhal for what seemed like hours and, as usual, it hardly seemed to make a dent in their numbers. New undead relentlessly made their way out from the center of the ruined city to replace their fallen counterparts. The futility of it all was not lost on her; at least they made for good target practice.

Lia sighed heavily, as she climbed up on Cayden’s back, and began the ride around Andorhal to return to Chillwind. She rode into the camp, dismounted and spoke to Officer Pureheart, dumping a pile of Scourgestones at her feet.

“Excellent, Sergeant Major.” Officer Pureheart smiled. “You always do an excellent job for us out here. I’m pleased to find individuals with such dedication to our cause.”

“Well…” Lia stood up and turned back toward Cayden. “I suppose we all have our callings, eh?” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she remounted.

Lia checked her gear. She was due in Stranglethorn shortly to help the Blades in trying to clean out a troll temple, but she decided to make one more pass along the southern edge of Andorhal before heading out. She trotted Cayden up to the edge of the tainted lake and paused.

As usual, the sheer devastation of the ruined city and its inhabitants filled Lia with a deep sense of sadness and loathing. She wished she could make some sense out of the strange sensitivity she felt to this evil. The evil of the Scourge and the chaos and entropy it caused.

A wave of nausea washed over her at that thought. It was as if, suddenly, the pieces fell into place. The chaos, the entropy, the rivers of blood; all were part of the Crimson Watch’s doctrine. The horrible realization that these feelings were probably directly linked to her father’s Crimson Lord shook her deeply.

Perhaps that was why she failed to noticed the two rogues slipping up behind her…

Perhaps that was why she failed to recognize the taint of her father’s presence.

[Imara]

Checkmate, Part Three (by Morghoul)

Morghoul positioned himself near Liadain and sprung into action as he sensed Liadain about to depart. He leaped forward and landed his sap full of buckshot squarely at the base of Liadain’s skull. She slumped forward on her startled mount as Morghoul stepped to the side to watch his trained assassin in action.

Bornn’s response was swift as his blades spun in quick succession to cut the straps from Liadain’s mount. In a moment she was off her horse and could no longer flee from her fate. Bornn was caught a bit off guard as Liadain shook off Morghoul’s well-placed sap, but his blade came up to easily fend off her initial attack as she regained her senses.

The two twirled their blades in a dance together and Bornn was gaining the upper hand on his dazed opponent before Morghoul slammed into Liadain’s back with a vicious strike which sent her reeling into Bornn’s onslaught which crumpled her to the ground.

Without a word, Bornn lifted her left hand and severed her smallest finger with surgical precision at the joint before looking upward at Morghoul. He then pulled out vial he had hidden and in that same motion he produced a bandage to control her bleeding. Bornn uncorked the vial and slipped the severed digit into the preservative fluid.

“It is done, Master.”

“Indeed, it is. Excellent work.”

“I trust this is our declaration of war upon the Blades of Lordaeron as well?”

“It is.”

“I look forward to it.” Bornn responded, as he summoned forth his mount. “Now, on to Garbhan.”

“Perfect…” Morghoul hissed, clearly satisfied with the day’s progress.

(( And here's the movie of how this played out in the game:

http://files.filefront.com/The_First_Huntwmv/;4566078;;/fileinfo.html

-Created by Bornn ))

[Imara]

((So there you have it. A few months worth of backstory and in-game RP for your enjoyment. And now... Ahem...

To Be Continued...))

[Imara]

The Hunt Continues (by Morghoul)

Morghoul raised the vial containing Liadain’s severed finger to peer at its contents in the glow from the fire. The assassin, Bornn, had severed it cleanly and it looked like it would be easy to reattach in time.

The first task was complete. While the bulk of the The Crimson Watch army prepared for their next assault upon the Alliance, Morghoul had his assassins preparing for their next task… procuring the Nostrum recipe from the dwarf, Garbhan.

“You are gathered this night to carry out the second phase of our operation. Bornn has done excellent work in retrieving this flesh of Liadain. I wish it to be returned to Liadain as a promise from me. A promise I intend to keep. Garbhan is a skillful, yet aging dwarf. We have trailed him for some time now and we know his travel patterns. It appears that the mistrusting dwarf carries the recipe upon his person, believing it most secure when in his immediate possession. Our alchemists are convinced that with but a minor alteration, the Nostrum formula can be modified to reanimate the flesh of the living while preserving the most lifelike of qualities. Seek out this dwarf, beat him into submission and steal the recipe from him. Know that he will not be relinquishing it without a proper fight. Do not kill him at this time. Should our alchemist prove mistaken, we may have further need of his talents. It is of no concern to me should he be returned to his home bruised and battered… so long as he yet lives.” Morghoul finally lowered the vial to his thigh.

“Master, I have believe myself to be most familiar with his habits. I do not feel there is a need to send other assassins for this task,” Styll replied.

Morghoul returned a piercing glare through his glowing eyes. “That is not a decision you need concern yourself with. This is a task that must be handled promptly. I wish Liadain’s finger returned to her soon, before she grows too adapted to life without it.”

“As you wish…”

“Now then, be off. Let this hunt begin in earnest and do not return empty handed.”

[Imara]

An Eye for an Eye (by Liadain)

You have your father’s eyes, Liadain.

Deirdre Dunraven’s observation had been made as innocently as a comment about the weather or the taste of a meal.

Such a dark and piercing gaze.

Liadain frowned slightly as her mother’s words echoed in her memory, her eyes scanning the battle below for likely targets. It had been good to see her, and Gallows had not lied when he said she was doing much better, but Deirdre Dunraven was not the same woman she had been a few months ago.

She was now a haunted woman living half in and half out of the present.

Liadain rocked back on her haunches, the snow crunching beneath her feet. She idly fingered the edge of the bandages on her left hand. To the casual observer, she might appear unhindered by her injury but Lia knew she was slightly off balance; slightly vulnerable. It was getting better every day, but the part of her that was the "Unbound Wolf" raged against this infirmity.

Lia frowned and started to slink carefully down the hillside toward the Field of Strife. It was then that her eyes fell on the orc warrior engaged in combat at the foot of the hill. The familiar red tabard that she wore made the hair on the back of Lia’s neck stand on end.

“The Watch.” Lia growled and readied her swords. Drawing close she sprang, entering the fray and rendering her prey unconscious. She was relentless in her attacks, as she dodged the warrior’s blows, and soon she had tipped the scales in her allies’ favor and the orc lay dead in the snow. Liadain bent over the body of the slain warrior and brought the hilt of her sword to bear against the orc’s canine tooth, claiming it as a trophy.

Lia took two steps back from the body and immediately felt a rush of air as the hilt of a dagger connected with the back of her neck. She didn’t even have to look to know who it was, as the numbness spread through her limbs and she stood, unable to fight back, as Morghoul’s blades cut into her. White hot fury boiled in the pit of her stomach.

Coming to her senses, Liadain spun around on her father, fighting back with the tenacity of a cornered animal. Her swords cut deep into Morghoul’s armor and he retreated a few steps. He brought his blades up to parry and, as he did so, Lia could hear the grating sound of his laughter.

“Such bloodlust, m’dear. You are your father’s daughter.” Morghoul intoned in broken common.

At the sound of her father’s voice, Liadain faltered and their eyes met. She clenched her teeth and brought her sword up as Morghoul was entangled in roots cast by a nearby druid. She seemed to almost vibrate with the tension.

“I’ll see you in hell, Morghoul!” She hissed as she brought the hilt of her sword down into his right eye. Morghoul staggered and the light in his eye dimmed as he fell to his knees. Lia’s hands dropped to her sides as she watched him fall; his last words echoing in her ears.

We will be together.

[Garbhan]

My lovely Eibhe,

I spend my waking moments ever looking over my shoulder, as if being chased by ghosts. There are many new recruits in the Regiment that need looking after, and its a good destraction for a bit, but it doesn't help. The only place I feel even remotely safe is in Ironforge. Sometimes. In the open places of the Mystic Ward and in the Tram, I'm more paranoid then ever. That would be it, wouldn't it? attacking me at home.

At least I have confirmation that I'm being watched - hunted. Morghoul and his rogues, I wish I knew what they were after. I've a suspicion it has something to do with the Nostrum. What precautions can I take? I wouldn't wish my burden on the Bankers, nor Baghilda of the Regiment.

There's a young Dwarf lass that I've spent much time with lately. One Brigitte Peacebringer. To be honest, I don't really know her last name, but she was of the guild Peace Bringers before it was disbanded. The name suits as good as any, and she does indeed make her enemies existance far more peaceful. Her prowess in combat is exceptional, as is the means by which her oponents rarely see her... She calls me bait. In my extensive experience, I've rarely seen bait with as much survivability before. My hopes are that in keeping close to her, that perhaps when the Crimson Watch do make a bid for me... I come out of it alive and in one piece.

It weighs heavy on my mind. I am weary, and there's so much to do in the Regiment. Need to rename our company so the Captain doesn't get a big head. I think I'll look into that now. As with most, you'll likely never get this letter. It was written more for me, then for you. I should start thanking the parchment for listening so well.

Be safe, dearest Eibhe,
last daughter of the Steelbrow's

[Imara]

((by Morghoul))

((The Crimson Watch and The Blades of Lordaeron had a rather massive RP/PvP battle with about 60 participants. This is the RP account of it which is also posted in The Crimson Tainted Blade thread for continuity of that storyline. A movie was filmed of this event, but will take some time to edit))

A nefarious plot had been hatched. Master Morghoul, leader of The Crimson Watch, had decided to up the stakes in the war against the Alliance. The Crimson Watch had been successful in taking over the ships at Menethil, the tram system, and had even brought death and destruction to several small towns. However, this was not enough. Engineers amongst the Watch had learned of several structural weaknesses in the mighty Stonewrought Dam. Studying the flood plain, it appeared that if the dam were destroyed it would flood and decimate at least one larger town.

Sister Styll, an upcoming rogue warlord of The Crimson Watch addressed the gathered members:

”Brothers and Sisters of the Watch, the time has come to strike hard against the Alliance forces. Deep within the Alliance territory of Loch Modan lies a very large dam known as the Stonewrought Dam. It is our belief that compromising this dam will flood the wetlands as well as cause great damage and death to Menethil itself. Our scouts have brought back some very useful information on how we might be able to do just enough damage in a short period of time to bring the dam crashing down. Our engineers have been working very diligently on some powerful sapper charges that just might do the trick. All we need to do now is rush through Loch Modan, killing any resistance along the way, clear the damn from any defenders and plant the charges. Once we are under way this mission must be done with great speed and precision. If the alliance find out our plan and mount any sort of defense we won’t have the time needed to plant the charges, so we must be swift. Ready your gear, we march into battle this Wednesday eve!”

After learning of the planned assault, the renowned rogue, Yomi, started to become doubtful of the plan as it stood. The dam was a product of solid engineering and was likely reinforced in ways that even The Crimson Watch were not aware of. Yomi gathered the masses of The Crimson Watch and prepared them to carry a shipment of explosives from Hammerfall to Kargath and then onward to the Altar of Storms where they would be enchanted with demonic power to amplify their potency. The trip would be perilous since the explosives were too unstable to transport by griffin or bat.

(Screenshot) http://img93.imageshack.us/img93/7950/yomi0iq.jpg

In order to have success in their mission, Yomi believed she would need to successfully deliver at least half of the shipment to Kargath. Master Morghoul had made certain to have more explosives on hand than the minimum required, but also knew that it would be difficult to deliver them safely by foot all the way from Hammerfall. The explosives were distributed to each member on the march so that they could not all be destroyed at once. The army then marched south from Hammerfall into Alliance territory like a plague of locusts upon the land. The trip met limited Alliance resistance and all opposition was quickly toppled. The explosives arrived safely to Kargath, their intended destination, but sister Yomi decided it was best to press the force onward to the Altar of Storms to maximize the explosive power of the shipment. During the travel through Blackrock mountain and toward the Searing Gorge, one young shaman was mercilessly attacked by the powerful inhabitants and detonated the explosives in a suicidal act of retaliation. However, this minimal loss of the shipment was insignificant and the explosives were successfully enchanted and returned to Kargath in preparation for the assault upon the dam.

(Screenshot) http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/7219/altar7sk.jpg

[Imara]

((by Liadain))

Liadain could feel the chill seeping through her armor and could see the fine mist of Cayden's breath, as she sat atop the horse and waited for the Blades' forces to amass at the South Gate Outpost. Much had happened over the last forty-eight hours...

Two nights ago, Conidivh, SI:7s seemingly most active operative of late, had passed information along to Celethorn which implied that Lia herself had been compromised by her father and the Watch. Then, less then twenty-four hours later in a move that was quite curious, Conidivh had presented Lia with the information that set this evening's events in motion. Lia was no fool. She knew this was a perfect way to test her loyalties.

Let him test and investigate to his hearts content. I don't have time to waste with bureaucratic games; not while my father still... lives... and the Watch still plots against us all.

The information Liadain had received had been two-fold. First had been a letter, apparently penned by the paladin, Lovely, to Yomi, one of Morghoul's pet assassins. The letter indicated that Lovely had information that might ensure the safety of Yomi, and her fellow Watchmen, in some current endeavor. Lovely wished to set up a meeting between herself and Yomi in the Valley of Kings. Added to this, was the information Conidivh had gathered through his contacts regarding the Watch's increased interest in the Stonewrought Dam.

The destruction of the dam would be a harsh blow to the Alliance, as the Wetlands would be flooded and Menethil would likely be destroyed. This would not only cause immediate chaos and death but would also cause more long-term damage to the Alliance's trade and supply network. It would truly be a disaster of epic proportions. It was certainly a plot worthy of being one of Morghoul's grand schemes.

After she and Celethorn met with Conidivh, and were given all of this new information, Lia spent the entirety of the following day pouring over maps and pulling in favors from her own contacts. In the end, she felt confident that the Watch was planning an assault on the Dam late in the evening the following day. She also felt fairly certain that they would be traveling from Kargath, through the Searing Gorge and into the Valley of Kings en route to Loch Modan.

Today, Liadain's confidence was bolstered when reports reached her that the Watch had been spotted transporting cargo into Kargath the night before. Indeed, it seemed that the Blades might stand a fairly decent chance of thwarting the Watch's plans and preventing this catastrophe. Liadain smirked.

I certainly hope to be a thorn in your side, daddy dearest.

Liadain looked up and smiled at the, rather intimidating, night elven warrior riding up to meet her. "Kaldore. Good to see you."

"Did you have any doubts that I'd be here?" The elf grinned smugly. "I'm Kaldore. This ambush would be doomed without me." He winked.

"Hopefully the rest of us will be here shortly. I'm also expecting..." Liadain stopped as her communicator hissed. She slipped it out of her belt and flipped a switch. "Mayday?"

"Hello, Lia. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here. I'm acting alone, though... No offense. I just work best on my own terms." Lia could hear the rogue's wry chuckle.

Lia smiled. "None taken. Just make sure you listen in on my instructions. I don't want any unexpected issues."

"Will do. And good luck, my friend."

"Thanks, Mayday." Lia turned the output on the communicator off and slipped it back into her belt.

While Liadain had been speaking with Mayday, Aurahn and Kurohane of the Swordwaltzers had arrived. Lia had extended an invitation for them to assist, since they had been so willing to help in her investigations. She nodded at them as Cayden shifted his weight impatiently. The stallion wasn't a fan of inactivity any more than Lia.

"Thank you both for coming. I'd received your response to my missive and any help is much appreciated. Besides, I know you'll enjoy seeing some payoff after all of the intrigue to this point." Lia grinned as the pair of night elves bowed and nodded in agreement.

"Rest assured that we are here to be of whatever aid we can." Kurohane smiled and the pair moved off to the campfire Kaldore had started nearby.

By that time, a large number of the Blades had arrived and were milling about. As usual, they were antsy to get to work and many duels had broken out in the open area outside of the guard towers.

The Blades gather at the South Gate Outpost. (http://www.yovitch.com/lj/ambush1.jpg)

Scanning the assembled mercenaries, Liadain's eyes fell on Ansel, a druid and old friend, and Leapold, a relatively new addition to the Blades but by all accounts a fine rogue. "Ansel, Leopold!" Lia called and the pair jogged over to her.

"Leopold, how skilled are you at lockpicking?" She studied him intently.

"As skilled as one can be, ma'am." Leapold replied confidently.

"Excellent. I need the two of you to act as my scouts. Go to Kargath and keep us apprised of the Watch's activities there. Let us know immediately if they deviate from the route we are anticipating and follow them all the way through. You can nab any that might attempt to flee back out of the Stonewrought Pass when the fighting breaks out." Lia absently wrapped her reins between her fingers as she spoke.

Ansel and Leopold nodded their understanding and set off quickly toward the pass into the Valley of Kings. Ansel smoothly slipped into cat form as the pair moved out of sight. Lia nodded, confident that they would at least have good intelligence on the Watch's movements as events unfolded, and turned her attention to the rest of the assembled mercenaries.

"Alright, Blades. Here's the deal..." Lia's guildmates gathered around as Liadain reviewed what was known up to that point and what the plan was for the ambush. "So, all those of you that can stealth are with me, up in the hills just outside of the Stonewrought Pass. Those of you that cannot stealth will be with Celethorn, farther back in the Valley." She concluded. "Let's move out."

Liadain guided Cayden into place next to Celethorn and the pair led the Blades in a slow march down through the pass and into the Valley of Kings.

The Blades ride through the pass (http://www.yovitch.com/lj/ambush6.jpg) and into the Valley of Kings. (http://img36.imageshack.us/my.php?image=valleyarrive1vj.jpg)

Once the Blades arrived in the Valley, the order was given to split up and their forces moved into position. Then the waiting began. Ansel and Leapold started to report that members of the Watch were arriving in Kargath. At first, there were just a handful but the numbers quickly started to grow.

Lia positioned herself on a hill overlooking the gate at the entrance to the Valley from the Gorge. She slowly and deliberately unsheathed and poison her swords as she listened to the information coming across the communicators. She could sense the presence of Aceavia, who had seen fit to take on the role of Lia's personal priest, behind her in the shadows. Liadain smiled to herself as she pulled her mask up over her face.

The Blades always come through... Well, whenever there is a good fight involved.

Lia chuckled softly, but her thoughts were interrupted by Ansel, reporting earnestly. "They are on the move. Heading out of the Badlands into the Gorge. I'm having trouble keeping up."

Lia could almost feel the tension and anticipation mount among the forces gathered behind her. "Mayday... You out there?"

The communicator crackled. "Aye. They are going left in the Gorge; heading toward the Pass... As anticipated. These scouts of yours are good." Lia could almost hear the grin in his voice.

"Alright, everyone on your toes, Blades. The enemy approaches." Lia crouched in position and waited. The only sound was the occasional crackle as Ansel and Leapold continued to update them.

"They are gathering at the entrance to the tunnel."

"They are almost to you."

"They're here..."

[Imara]

((by Morghoul))

Morghoul addressed the gathered the troops with the following:

"Greetings once again. I bring you all good news of our success last night. Sister Yomi gathered our forces in Hammerfall where we had crates of explosives delivered to us. We had to transport those explosives a great distance in order to have them in place for our assault tonight. Our troops were required to deliver at least half of the shipment to Kargath in the Badlands. They succeeded in doing this with but the death of one young shaman. A tragic loss, but the remains are being collected and will be reanimated or resurrected. After our forces reached Kargath, Yomi and company transported the explosives to the Altar of Storms. The explosives were further enchanted with dark energy there and then redelivered to Kargath. As you all know, our final target for this mission is the destruction of the Stonewrought Dam and we now have all the tools necessary to carry out this objective.

We gather tonight in Kargath to complete the mission and bring death crashing down upon the alliance in a wall of water. We will not stop at the destruction of the dam, however! We will continue to press the fight onward to the Alliance towns during their moment of panic. For this, we will require the services of every able-bodied member. The Crimson Watch is counting on all of you for a sustained onslaught upon the alliance, so come fully equipped and prepared for large scale warfare. Do not understimate your opponents!

We have also learned that an agent of the alliance may be able to provide us details of weak points along the dam for us to place our explosives... though with the enchanting that has been done upon the explosives, I doubt we will have need of knowing intimate details of dam's structure. Nonetheless, we must be timely in order to see what information this agent has for us. I will give you further details when next we meet. Remember... timeliness, discipline, carnage!”

The Crimson Watch gathered in Kargath and departed for the Valley of Kings to meet with the alliance turncoat before marching onward toward the dam.

http://img99.imageshack.us/img99/6303/kargath15qv.jpg http://img99.imageshack.us/img99/4100/hallway0uo.jpg

Upon reaching the area where they were to meet Lovely, there was nothing but an eerie silence. With little warning Liadain’s voice shattered the silence and Morghoul’s eyes snapped toward her position.

"Hello, Father. Sorry to ruin your fun." And in the distance those simple words were followed by the recognizable voice of the warrior… Celethorn.

“CHARGE!”

http://img99.imageshack.us/img99/2928/confront9vl.jpg

And then… the sound of clanking armor and spells searing the air.

In an instant, chaos erupted in all directions. A loud explosion tore through the valley and echoed from the mountain peaks as a fireball sailed into a crate of explosives. The detonation sent Crimson Watch soldiers flying in all directions against and piling into the hillsides. The fireball was followed by a charge of paladins and warriors as spells rained down overhead. The smell of charred flesh and hair was almost overpowering. Steel rang against steel and ambush victims cried out in pain as hidden rogues plunged their blades into unliving flesh. Every direction the Crimson Watch troops turned they encountered the blade, bolt or claw of their enemy. Almost as quickly as it has begun, it was over.

The forces of The Crimson Watch either lie crumpled on the ground or were sent fleeing into the hills in every possible direction. Morghoul locked eyes once more with his daughter and fury blurred his vision… the Crimson Madness took hold and he knew well that she could see it within him. A wry smile returned from her stung him worse than any sword could.

“Regroup! Rally at the gate! The Blades have scattered somewhat to track those who have fled! Amass at the gate and hold off any oncoming…” It was too late, the Blades of Lordaeron charged forward once more and all the remaining forces of The Crimson Watch could do was try to buy more time for their fellows to escape. The valley trembled as the explosives were detonated from a far by the Blades as they completed their mission to save the dam. Morghoul refused to glance over his shoulder back to see that despicable smiling face as he sprinted away from the scene.

http://img101.imageshack.us/img101/5128/defeat4yo.jpg

[Imara]

((by Liadain))

Liadain’s heart had skipped a beat as she had watched the gate slowly rise and the first few enemies emerge from the tunnel. The Watchmen had paused briefly before starting up the Valley at a jog. It hadn’t taken long for her to pick Morghoul out of the crowd and, fortuitously, he had paused only a few feet from her as the trap was sprung. The look of surprise on his face when he heard her voice had been satisfying, though the moment had been cut short by start of combat.

Liadain saw her father turn his attention to the chaos erupting on the road before him and used that opportunity to slip back out of sight. Slowly, she made her way around behind him and pounced in one smooth movement. Morghoul was stunned by the sudden onslaught and could barely fight back as Lia’s blades hacked into him. Then there was the explosion…

Liadain dove for cover instinctively as the entire Valley reverberated. It took several moments for the combatants to recover their bearings, during which time Morghoul managed to slip off into the fray. Liadain trotted back out to the road, just in time to hear Feorn’s ever stoic voice over the cacophony of battle.

“Could someone get this warrior off of me… Please.”

Liadain frowned with disappointment at losing Morghoul but quickly rushed to the aid of her comrades. It was hard to get a clear picture of how many of the Watch’s men still stood, in the midst of the smoke and the flurry of weapons and spells, but the Blades continued to fight with grim determination until all of the enemies on the road had been dispatched.

The aftermath of the initial battle. (http://www.yovitch.com/lj/ambush10.jpg)

Once the road was clear, the Blades began to comb the hills for stragglers as the main force moved to the Loch Modan end of the Valley to regroup. Liadain could hear the cries of the Watchmen in the hills as they were cut down and it brought her cold satisfaction. She was not given much time for gloating, however, as word reached her that a few members of the Watch had made it through to the Dam.

“Quickly, Celethorn’s group to the dam!” Liadain called out. Celethorn wasted no time in giving orders to his force as he pulled his white mare around and headed for Loch Modan. No sooner had they passed out of the Valley, between the mammoth dwarven statues, then another voice cried out.

“Incoming!”

The Watch had regrouped and appeared to be making one last, desperate attempt to salvage their mission. Liadain fell back a bit as the main force of the Blades charged forward, slamming into the Watch’s front line. Liadain skirted the edge of the battle and came face to face again with her father.

Lia hesitated and then slipped out from her cover beside Morghoul. She could tell he was weighing his next move as he watched his men falling on the road beneath the hill where they stood. A moment passed before he became aware of Lia’s presence.

Their eyes met and she could see the fury within him, so strong it was unmistakable. That fury was, familiar, and was answered by her own cold contempt. She reached up and pulled the mask from her face, ensuring that her father could see the smirk that had crept unbidden to her face.

Morghoul recoiled a bit, almost as if Lia had slapped him. Immediately, he began barking orders to the Watch and he turned, fleeing the battlefield with not so much as a glance back at his daughter. His more seasoned men attempted to buy time for the others to flee but, in the end, the Blades made quick work of them as the remaining loads of explosives were destroyed.

It was not long before reports came in from the Dam that it had been secured, with the last member of the Watch at that location making a suicide jump off of the side of the Dam. Celethorn rode back into the Valley with his group, just as Liadain’s scouts confirmed that the remainder of the Watch’s force in the Stonewrought Pass was retreating.

Liadain stood in the shadow of the guard tower and made the announcement. “The Watch is retreating. The day is ours. For the Alliance and the Blades!” A raucous cheer erupted. “Now… Who’s hosting the after-party?” She grinned.

The mercenaries slowly began to disperse, congratulating each other and recounting highlights of the evening as they mounted up for the return to Ironforge. They were bruised and battered but in high-spirits. Liadain’s grin remained until the majority of them had ridden off, then she turned and looked thoughtfully in the direction of the Stonewrought Pass.

The warrior, Esare, walked up next to Liadain and gently patted her shoulder. Lia turned and they exchanged a smile before Esare moved off and Lia moved to pack up and head out. As Lia prepared to hoist herself up onto Cayden, Kurohane and Aurahn came over to say their goodbyes.

Kurohane smiled, but the smile was less than confident. “Do you think this was really a victory? That it will really make any difference?”

Liadain smirked as she pulled herself up into her saddle. “I think that the Watch was soundly defeated today and that their morale is broken. I think that we succeeded in saving the Dam and the countless lives that would have been lost if it had been destroyed.”

Lia sighed and looked off into the distance again. “However, the Watch will undoubtedly continue their efforts and next time they are likely to be more prepared… and more bloodthirsty. We must remain ever-vigilant…”

Until we meet again.

[Imara]

Movie completed! Keep in mind that any shot with other characters in it where taken at the actual event and were not pre-planned or scripted Smile

Enjoy!

http://files.filefront.com/Oh_Damwmv/;4687403;;/fileinfo.html

[Imara]

An Interlude (by Liadain)

Liadain guided Cayden slowly along the road from Lakeshire to Goldshire. Her mind was a million miles away as she thought of the events of the past several days. Celethorn had brought several issues to a head and now they had begun the painful process of letting go and starting over. Then the Swordwaltzers had asked her to help them with an assassination attempt on Yomi; an assassination that had gone, surprisingly, without a hitch.

Lia sighed softly. Thank the Light for Mayday. Her best friend had been more of a boon over the last week than he would ever know. He had really gone above and beyond in supporting her. She would have to come up with some way to repay him.

Lia came out of her reverie as she suddenly realized that there was something amiss. She pulled Cayden to a halt and listened intently for a moment, thinking that, perhaps, it had been a sound that had been out of place. She quickly realized that it was not so much a sound that had caught her attention, but a lack of sound. The forest around her had grown eerily quiet.

Cayden snorted and stamped uneasily. Off to the left, Lia heard a branch snap and she frowned as she tried to pick movement out of the shadows. She dismounted slowly and rested one hand on the hilt of her sword as she held Cayden’s reins in the other. Tense moments passed and the hair on Lia’s neck stood on end.

Suddenly, a figure burst out of the bushes by the side of the road and charged right at her. In the dim moonlight, Lia could make out a wolfish head but the figure looked more human than canine. A worgen? Lia’s thought was cut short as she released Cayden’s reins and dodged the creature’s attack.

Lia rolled and came up blades in hand, ready to defend herself, but the creature was gone and Cayden was left pacing nervously in the middle of the road. Lia frowned. “What the hell…” She muttered.

Slowly, she made her way over to Cayden and reclaimed his reins. She looked around warily as she prepared to remount, but there was no sign of the creature and the sounds of the forest had returned to normal. Lia swung up into the saddle and it was then that she noticed it.

The creature had torn a piece out of her cloak. Lia’s hands trembled slightly as she examined the damage. The piece hadn’t just been ripped off, it had been hacked off by a claw… or a blade. Her frown grew even more pronounced as she kicked Cayden into a gallop and hurried on toward the reassuring lights of Goldshire.[/u]

[Imara]

Chaos is the Only Truth (by Bornn)

Much had happened to Bornn since he had risen as a Forsaken and joined the Crimson Watch. For the first time in his existence he had found a true purpose, he had linked a meaning to his existence…

“Chaos is the only truth…”

Bornn sat idly in his corner of the Crimson Watch hall. He was seated in his usual chair staring at a jar that lye on the table before him. Within the jar was a small finger, the very one he had severed from Liadain, Master Morghoul’s human daughter; it was suspended and preserved by the embalming fluid. As Bornn sat there, unmoving and in utter silence a memory of his former life floated into his mind.

Bornn saw his parents in their home at Goldshire, he recalled the order of that life. His father told him once that “there are many truths in the world son, but order is the ultimate truth. Order is what keeps us sane”. Those words reverberated in Bornn’s mind as he remembered further details of his past life and the order his parents instilled on him. Bornn’s human life had become all about order, so much so that it came to the point of an obsession, to Bornn order had become the only truth. The vision faded into another, years later…

The Silverstein farm, on the outskirts of Lordaeron, the very place where the human Bornn had been killed and was risen as part of the Scourge. Bornn remembers his last moments as a human well, that fateful day while working at the farm and the plagued stranger who shattered his ordered world. Bornn vividly remembers how the plague had turned that stranger and the Silverstein’s into monstrous ghouls and how it all led Bornn to the realization that his father was wrong. Order was not the ultimate truth, it was no truth at all. Life was not order, life was chaos, the world was chaos and the only certainty in anything is that it was chaotic in one sense or another. Chaos was the only truth, not order…

Bornn came out of his trance and looked about the room, he was alone. His gaze turned back to the jar. In the utter silence Bornn reached for the jar and with a quick flick he undid the latch holding it shut. He slowly reached his fingers into the embalming fluid, and for the first time since he severed the finger from Liadain he touched it and withdrew it from the jar. He lay the finger on the table before him, extracted his dagger from his boot and carefully chipped off a piece of bone that protruded from the end. He knew Master Morghoul would not mind, it was the flesh that he was interested in and this little bit of bone wouldn’t be missed.

Bornn quickly returned the finger to the jar and closed and latched the lid. For a few moments he entered another trance, his gaze focused on the bone chip before him. Eventually he withdrew a small piece of cloth from a pocket inside his shirt and placed it on the table. The cloth appeared to have been torn from a larger piece, a piece of clothing perhaps. The forsaken placed the bone chip on the cloth and wrapped it up, quickly returning the cloth to his pocket.

Bornn rose from his seat, put the jar away then headed out into the night…

“Chaos is the only truth…”

[Imara]

The Hunt for Garbhan Ends (By Styll)


Styll storms into the Salty Sailor Tavern. There is nothing calm about her today, she heads straight to the bar.

“M’Lady, there are no messages for you today.” The bartender, Nixxrax Fillamug, calmly tells her.

“Where is he Nixxrax?”

“You know I don’t know who you are…”

“WHERE!?”

A few regular patrons quickly and quietly make their way out of the tavern. Nixxrax shifts uneasily, sweat beginning to drip off his brow. His eyes glance upwards.

“He’s here?”

Without a sound Styll was gone…

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A stranger sits alone admiring his tall mug of ale. He appears to be talking to himself. “Three, two, one…” He feels a slight breeze on the back of his neck.

“Hello Silvia. Stop playing in the shadows would you?”

“How did you know?”

“Come now Silvia, I wouldn’t be surprised if Shipmaster Grizzlowe heard you all the way at the end of the dock with all the commotion you caused.” He sighs. “Your temper always did get the better of you. Now what do you need? You know it’s not safe for us to be talking openly like this.”

“You know damn well what I want Wyet. We were good friends in my life, have things changed that much in my undeath?”

“Of coarse not Silvia,” Wyet said apologetically as he took a sip of his ale.

“No one is that lucky Wyet. There is no way he was able to escape me that many times without help. It’s impossible.”

“Obviously not impossible Silvia,” Wyet smirked. “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think.” He loved to get her going and boil her blood.

And if she still had blood it would surely be boiling. “Damn it Wyet be serious. Are you helping him or not?”

“You know the answer to that Silvia.”

“I know Wyet, I’m sorry.” Styll slumps into the chair across from him. “But how is he doing this? No one is this lucky… no one!” Styll exclaimed, slamming her fist down on the table.

“Well it’s no secret the Watch has targets Silvia. He surely knows he is being hunted but I doubt he realizes how close you have been. I honestly believe he is just THAT lucky.”

Styll sighs…

“Don’t give up quite yet Silvia.” Wyet takes a long swig of his ale. “Word has it he will be meeting someone in Redridge tomorrow night. I’m not sure what path he will take there but you can either try and intercept him or hunt for him in Redridge itself. Your best bet is to take the path from the north through the Burning Steppes. You don’t want to cause a panic form the young alliance by coming in from the south.”

Styll nods. “Tomorrow night Garbhan’s luck finally runs out! Thank you Wyet.”

“Just don’t forget your promise to me Silvia.” Wyet raises the large mug to his lips again and finishes his ale. “I miss…”

Styll was gone.

“She hasn’t changed a bit.” Wyet laughed to himself quietly.

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“It’s time to go Styll.” Even though, in undeath, Bornn’s life had succumend to chaos, he was still very punctual and serious when it came to “business”.

“Are you ever late for anything Bradley?” Styll asked already knowing the answer.

“Are you ever on time for anything Silvia?” Bornn retorted. “No wonder this dwarf has escaped you so many times.”

Styll flared. “Not you too!”

“Not me too?” Bornn questioned with an odd expression.

“Never mind, just shut up and lets go!”

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The wind riders landed and the two rogues quickly mounted their steeds.

“Let’s split up and quickly search this area first. Meet up at the pass to Redridge,” Styll barked.

A short time later Bornn reached the pass to the Redridge Mountains, but there was no sign of Styll. He pulled out his spyglass and surveyed the area. He spotted her just off in the distance. No sign of trouble.

Styll approached. “Nothing…”

“Same here, he must be in Lakeshire already.”

They quickly headed south together, toward Lakeshire. Not long after enter the Redridge Mountains, they spotted some human activity in the distance. Without a word they both dismounted and were walking amongst the shadows. As they neared they realized the humans were very young and posed no threat but they were close to Lakeshire now so it was best they stayed quiet and hidden.

They reached the town without trouble and began searching the area, building to building. First floor… second floor… basements…no sign of him.

“He has to be here.” Styll sighed.

“Are you sure your informant was right about the day?” Bornn said with obvious doubt in his voice.

Styll knew what he really meant. “Yes Bornn, he can be trusted. Garbhan must still be here. Wyet said…” Styll paused quickly with a look that can only be described as “DOH!”.


“Wyet?” Bornn peered at his old friend.

“Yes my contact”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Nevermind that now, he said Garbhan would be in Redridge. He didn’t specify Lakeshire. I am going to go look around the outskirts. You cause some trouble here and maybe if we stir things up enough we can flush him out.”

Styll headed out towards the outlying area.

Bornn looked around for his easiest target. He found a lonely guard nodding off by a tree. “This should cause a bit of trouble,” he chuckled to himself. A smile came to his face, he truly did love chaos now, especially chaos he was causing.

Bornn moved in. The cracking of his hilt against the back of his head sent the guard hunching over. A flurry of attacks quickly followed and after a well placed blow to his kidney the guard lied still.

“That was a bit too quick” Bornn thought to himself, “I wonder if anyone even noticed”. Just then Bornn felt a blast of pain wash over him. He turned quickly to see a small group of brave young allies charging at him. He grinned.

The mob advanced and Bornn began evading attacks. Dodging between the weapon strikes with ease Bornn sprinted his way through the crowd to the shadow priest who was hiding in the back. In a puff of smoke Bornn vanished. He quickly re-appeared behind the priest striking her hard sending her into a daze. A few strikes later the priest was nothing more than a bloody heap at her friend’s feet. With their healer dead, the remaining alliance began to panic and run away. “Chaos…”

Just then his communicator went off, “Bornn! I found him!”

“On my way…”

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Styll crested over a hill and peered into the valley. “Ugh, I hate spiders,” she thought to herself as she weaved in and out of the creatures through the valley when suddenly she heard a noise. She paused for a moment. Voices… two of them. She looked around, they seemed to be from a nearby sawmill. As the assassin approached she could make out three figures. One was a large cat, the other two humanoid. One night elf and one dwarf… Garbhan!

Styll made her way onto the first platform of the mill. She was only a few feet away from them now. She couldn’t understand what they were saying but one thing was clear…they were unaware of her presence. While she waited for her backup Styll thought about her plan of attack. Should she just sap the hunter, make quick work of Garbhan and be gone? “NO!” she thought “he is going to suffer like I have hunting for him!”

She glanced over her shoulder. Bornn nodded to let her know he was ready. He knew this was her fight, he was only there to make sure things went smoothly and that no one jumped in and tried to be a hero.

Styll moved into position and with the hilt of her dagger she rendered the priest helpless. Garbhan would be forced to watch his friend Kurohane get slaughtered be able to do nothing about it.

Styll looked to her side when she felt a small pain on her leg to see the hunters cat clawing and biting at her. She must have come out of hiding after striking Garbhan. It mattered not though. Styll turned and quickly charged the backing up hunter, striking with sinister force. It wasn’t till the hunter lie slain that the feline, her faithful companion, went fleeing in terror.

Styll calmly turned toward Garbhan who had recovered from her blow and blasted her with shadowy magic. He was finally face to face with his stalker. All those days wondering if someone was following him, the cold chill he felt causing the hair on his neck to stand up as if someone was just inches behind me. They all led up to this moment.

Styll let out a loud laugh and, with the will of her forsaken brethren flowing through her, charged toward the priest. Before he could react she was gone in a puff of smoke. He turned quickly catching a small glimpse of her as she passed by but it was too late. Within seconds she was on him, swinging with great fury and precision, catching him off guard. Blow after blow landed on the unprepared dwarf. He tried to protect himself but she just ripped though his shielding powers, and when cold blood began coursing through her the dwarf sensed his fate. Styll reached back and in an instant eviscerated Garbhan’s already weakened soul.

Styll paused a moment to regain her energy. She then knelt besides Garbhan’s limp body and began searching for the Nostrum. Upon finding it she cut off a section of Garbhan’s blood soaked cloak and carefully wrapped the recipe in it. She stood and bowed before her worthy adversary and in another puff of smoke, was gone.

Master Morghoul enters his study to see a blood stained package lying on his desk. Attached to it, a note:

It is done…
~Styll

[Imara]

Hunting (by Liadain)

Bandit watched Liadain curiously as she stirred the kettle over the fire. Noticing the worg pup's interest, she smiled. "I think you'd rather not have any of this, kiddo." Lia set the ladle down and carefully took the kettle out of the fireplace, returning to the table where the rest of her poisoning supplies were neatly arranged. She hummed softly as she began filling crystal vials with a green viscous fluid.

Things had seemed rather uneventful since the attack on Garbhan and the loss of the Nostrum formula. Liadain knew this was only an illusion, that there were wheels turning everywhere, but the brief respite from any major happenings had been a blessing to her. It had afforded her the opportunity to sort things out with Celethorn and to evaluate things more carefully.

Now, Liadain was ready for the fights that lay ahead.

On the heels of the attack on Garbhan, Celethorn had demanded a meeting with Conidivh and had made it clear that he expected Conidivh's full cooperation in obtaining as much information on the Watch's activities as possible. For her part, Lia had simply asked for two things. First, confirmation that it was the rogue known as Bornn that had originally attacked her. Second, the name of the rogue that had managed to catch Garbhan and snag the Nostrum.

It didn't take Conidivh long to bring her the name of Garbhan's assailant. It was another of Morghoul's most trusted assassins, Styll. Conidivh had not been able to successfully place Bornn at the scene of the attack on Lia but he did confirm the fact that Bornn, along with Styll, were only behind Yomi in their position within the Watch's ranks.

And now Yomi had met her final death.

Liadain bent to scratch Bandit behind the ears before moving to load the full vials into their pouches. Once they were safely tucked away, she moved to the armor and weapons, which were neatly arranged on a chair at the end of the table, and began to get dressed. She continued to hum, the tune almost hypnotic, as she buckled and adjusted each piece. At last, she reverently slipped her swords into their scabbards and slung her pack over her shoulder.

"Well, Bandit. Wish me luck. It's time for the hunted to become the hunter." Lia smiled as the worg peered up at her. "It has been a while..." With one last check to make sure she had everything, Lia slipped out the door and into the night.

[Imara]

The Animated Finger (by Bornn)

Bornn sat impatiently in the Cemetery of Brill as new members where initiated to the cause of the Crimson Watch. The Forsaken Rogue, sworn to chaos, did not normally attend such ceremonies, the order of any sort of ceremony made him feel uneasy. But this night was different, Bornn new what was planned afterwards, thus he sat in the bushes in silence...

“We are gathered here to welcome new members to our cause…”

Bornn's eyes glazed over as Master Morghoul spoke to the initiates. Slowly he faded into a trance, visions of the passed flashed before his eyes...

Andorhal...

Bornn came to and clutched his shirt as the initiates began to spill their blood in the name of the Crimson Lord. He withdrew the ragged cloth and could feel the lump within it as he held it tightly in his fist, it was safe. The ceremony finally came to a close as the initiates donned their crimson attire, Master Morghoul informed them of what was about to transpire.

“Now, we have other business to attend to. As many of you are aware, the Nostrum recipe, discovered by the Dwarf Garbhan, can instantly kill Forsaken if brewed properly. But, ever more noteworthy is that with a slight alteration the Nostrum may instead turn the living into the undead. Sister Styll has tracked down and slain Garbhan and has returned with the recipe. Tonight it is up to our alchemists produce the elixir. Let us go now to the Apothecarium.”

Bornn had made this his personal goal and tonight his skills would be put to the test.

Chaos...

The Watch headed from the Cemetery of Brill to the Apothecarium in the Undercity. Once within the main chambers of the Apothecarium, Morghoul produced the recipe and waited patiently, letting the alchemists get to work, Bornn immediately stepped up to have his first look at it and was not surprised to see the mad scrimblings were in Dwarfish. Placing the recipe down for others to have a look, Bornn headed over to a shelf of old books and after a moment retrieved one from the top shelf, "Languages of Azeroth". With the aid of the new initiates, Bornn had the recipe translated enough to know what was needed.

“Can you do it Bornn?” questioned Morghoul.

“There are several stages to any recipe, each one producing a more powerful result. Luckily, tonight we are not looking to produce a recipe to kill undead on the spot or to turn a human into one of us. I will need only the simplest form of the Nostrum to turn the finger, and that I will do.”

Tonight Bornn would finally put the souvenir he cut from Liadain's hand to use. The severed finger would be turned into the flesh of the undead...

Liadain...

The watchers looked on in eager anticipation as Bornn carefully mixed, boiled and cooled many odd liquids and reagents upon the table. Bornn would randomly command the new initiates to retrieve different ingredients for him, or would have some of the other alchemists work on brewing different parts of the elixir. As the impatience of the crowd came to a peek, Bornn's chaotic creating came to a still. The rogue alchemist held up a small vile. He looked around the room at the many eyes peering at him and he stopped upon the Tauren, Gornin.

“I need a Volunteer!” He commanded, and quickly shoved the vile into Gornin's hand before anyone could answer. Gornin, swearing his loyalty to the cause downed the elixir and instantly fell to the ground... dead.

Bornn sighed, Morghoul’s eyes burned in rage. “Enough of this Bornn, make the elixir.”

Several of the Watch’s healers aided and revived the fallen Tauren, as Bornn went back to work. “I have altered the Nostrum, it is now harmless to us undead and though it killed Gornin,” Bornn gave Gornin an apologetic nod, “it is almost ready to work on the finger.”

“It’d better Bornn,” scoffed Morghoul as he produced the vial of embalming fluid that preserved the severed finger of his daughter and placed it upon the table. Carefully, Bornn removed the finger from the embalming fluid, and paused, holding the finger in his hand…

Death...

Bornn, who’d be holding his breathe had he the need to breathe, placed the finger within the vial holding his creation. All watched in silence as the elixir fizzed around the finger and the pale white skin of the human turned the slightest bit darker and contracted… Bornn has succeeded. The qualities the finger possessed in life seemed to remain as the finger began moving like an inchworm across the table.

[Imara]

Of An Evening (by Liadain)

Liadain stood, nearly naked, save for a towel wrapped around her torso, before a mirror in the bedroom of her home in Stormwind. Her eyes drifted slowly over her reflection; her short blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her deep brown eyes impassive. She let the towel fall to the floor and her fingers gently traced the twisted scar on her chest, the jagged scar on her left forearm and the still puffy scar where the smallest finger had been on her left hand.

Lia sighed softly, as her eyes followed her fingers to a nasty bruise on her collarbone and then to an equally disturbing welt on her right thigh. The corner of her mouth curled into a smile as her fingers finally traced the tattoo on her abdomen, depicting two wolves at rest. “Ah, Cele.” She murmured. “How do you put up with such a rough and tumble girl?”

Lia chuckled. She turned to the bed, where her armor and weapons had been carefully laid out, and began to dress in the half-light of the setting sun. She hummed softly to herself as she tied, snapped and buckled each item into place. It was the same tune she always sang. It was the same tune Jordan used to sing when he dressed. Her smile remained as she thought of him and wondered what he would think of her these days. Knight Liadain Greyhame.

Donning her tabard and slipping her swords in their scabbards, Lia returned the mirror where she combed her hair and took one last look at herself. In full armor, she no longer looked so beaten and vulnerable. She was the Unbound Wolf. Never in her life had the two aspects of her personality felt as wholly different as they had as of late. At home, she was Liadain the woman. Everywhere else, in the guild hall and on the field of battle, she was the Wolf.

Liadain stared at herself as she slipped her cowl over her head and pulled the mask up. She glanced toward the bed, where their white kitten, Ghost, had perched on the footboard to watch her. “I know. If only I always felt as impressive as I look.” She chuckled softly and scratched the kitten on his head, before heading downstairs and into the twilight.

--------------------------

Liadain rode into Goldshire, guiding Cayden past the usual assortment of young adventurers and ambitious entrepreneurs. As soon as she had dismounted at the Inn, she was bombarded by offers of companionship and requests for assistance. Waving them off as graciously as possible, she made her way inside and immediately spotted the individual she had come to meet.

The night elf Lia knew only as Folly sat casually by the fire. Her feet were propped up on the table and she was chatting up the barkeep who must have just delivered the tankard of ale on the table in front of her. A large white wolf was lying on the floor next to her, seemingly half asleep in the warmth of the fire. As Lia moved to the table, the wolf’s eyes opened a fraction more and, though he didn’t move, Lia knew that he was prepared should he need to intervene on his mistress’ behalf.

Lia pulled off her mask and cowl; approaching the table. “Hello, again, Folly.” She interjected, smiling at the barkeep. “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting long, though you seem to be making good use of your time.” Lia winked at the barkeep.

Folly grinned. “Lady Greyhame! I was just telling Dobbins here that if he thought my stories intriguing he ought to hang around to hear yours.” The night elf lowered her feet to the floor and stood, pushing her chair back so that she might bow. “It’s good to see you again, my Lady.”

“Bah. It’s Lia and the bowing is quite unnecessary.” Lia turned to Dobbins. “I’m afraid neither you nor I have time enough for me to tell my stories. How about a skin of Sweet Rum and a promise that I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know some other day?” Lia smiled.

Dobbins seemed quite embarrassed and almost thankful for the excuse to leave the women’s presence for a moment. He nodded. “Aye, m’lady. Though I’m always in for a good tale, I’d never wish to impose.” He bowed. “I’ll be right back with that rum.”

As soon as the barkeep had run off again, Lia returned her attention to the hunter. “What on earth were you telling him? He seems awfully embarrassed.” Lia pulled up a chair as Folly reclaimed hers.

Folly chuckled. “Nah. I think the poor boy just isn’t used to female company that has half a brain and isn’t trying to sell him something.” Folly winked. “The inhabitants of this little town are almost enough to make me wish I’d stayed in the forests of Teldrassil.”

Lia laughed. “I’m not surprised in the least…” She paused as Dobbins brought her drink and she sent him on his way with an impressive tip. “At any rate, I hate to get right to business but what I have to discuss with you is quite important. To me at least.”

Folly took a drink of her mead and nodded. “Well then, it is important to me as well.”

Lia smiled. “I appreciate that, Folly. I must confess that I have been sending you on lesser missions and keeping track of your progress since we met, not only because I had hoped you would be a worthy addition to our mercenary company, but also because I have been looking for someone to take on a very important job.” Lia paused and took a long pull from her skin of rum.

“My mother has been in the keeping of a friend of mine, Gallows. She has been staying with his aunt and remaining, up to this point, out of the line of fire in the midst of this war against my father and the Crimson Watch.” Lia frowned. “However, it appears that as she has recovered from her… injuries she has become more prone to taking walks and wandering. Celethorn ran into her in Stormwind City itself. Light only knows how she made her way there.”

Folly listened intently, drinking occasionally and letting her free hand drop to scratch her wolf behind the ears. “I see. And can I assume you would ask that I assist Gallows in keeping an eye on her?”

Liadain smiled. “Aye. Gallows himself can’t keep an eye on her all the time and his Aunt cannot force her to stay. So, I need another person to check on her from day to day and track her down if she wanders. I don’t want her to have a chance to get herself into trouble.” Lia slid a vellum-wrapped document across the table to the hunter. “This is the information on where she is staying. I would ask that you destroy it once you have read it.”

Folly nodded and took the information, slipping off the vellum wrap and unrolling the parchment. After studying it for a moment, she nodded. “I am familiar with this area. I’ve been hunting there quite a bit. I will do this for you, Lia, and you can trust that this is not a job I will take lightly.”

Lia nodded. “I know. While your penchant for not taking things too seriously is obvious, your skill and dedication speak for themselves. I would not have asked if I didn’t think you capable.”

“Very well.” Folly downed the last of her drink and stood, extending her hand eagerly. “I accept the job and I’ll begin updating you in, say, 48 hours?”

Lia stood and took the elf’s hand. “That sounds reasonable. Thank you, Folly.”

Folly chuckled. “Don’t start thanking me yet.” The hunter winked as she casually threw the parchment and its vellum case into the fireplace. The two women stood and watched the fire until the parchment was no more than a pile of ash. Folly gathered her weapons. “I’m off. I’ll contact you directly if I have any trouble finding the location.”

Liadain nodded, stepping aside to let the elf and her wolf by, and then finished her rum in one last long pull. Dropping a few more coins on the table, Lia departed the Lion’s Pride; bound for Westfall.

---------------------------

Liadain sat cross-legged at the end of the dock, while Cayden cantered around in the surf nearby. They had ridden around Westfall for a couple of hours, collecting herbs, protecting the local citizenry and even helping a young rogue pick the pocket of an abomination. Now she sat here, looking out at the ocean, feeling the same mixture of contentment and sadness she always felt when she came to this place.

She remembered Westfall as it was when she had been a child; all verdant fields and healthy livestock. Now, it was a place of such strife. Yet, still, the locals struggled to hang on to what they held dear. They were, quite simply, a strong and stubborn lot. She admired them greatly.

Lia sighed softly as she dug around in her backpack for pen and parchment. Arranging her lantern and settling down to write, she paused and closed her eyes; listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and letting it sooth her mind. In the morning, Celethorn would awaken to a note, slightly wrinkled from the ocean mist, on his bedside table.

Celethorn, my love,

I know you intended to leave me a note yesterday. I found your unfinished draft on the floor.

I am feeling somewhat more myself today. Less overworked and more human, I suppose. The time we spent in Elwynn and Dun Morogh, though brief, reminded me that we can relate to one another outside of the guild hall and off the field of battle. We carry so much these days, love. Without you, I fear I would falter and fail.

Gallows contacted me to let me know that he found my mother wandering again. It is, unfortunately, impossible for him to check on her as frequently as it would seem she requires. I am loathe to have her come to us; to be so close to me. Thus, I have hired that elven huntress, Folly, to keep an eye on her as well. Hopefully, even if mother wanders, Folly will be able to track her down in short order.

I just wish mother was wholly herself again. It would make things so much easier.

There’s still been no further word on the Watch and their activities with the Nostrum. I must admit that each passing day with no information makes me more on edge. It is as if an unknown storm lurks on the horizon.

Yet, somehow, my love, I don't fear that storm as much these days. Not as long as we face it together.

I should wrap this up, love. The sea breeze is picking up and threatening to blow out my lantern. I shall see you as soon as time permits on the morrow.

A mush ash, Banthalos Eraburis, tal A alah tal ano do anar.

Lia

[Imara]

Release (by Liadain)

The frail woman went entirely unnoticed as she stumbled through Deadwind Pass. When she reached Kharazan, even the restless dead seemed not to notice her; as if she were merely one of them. She muttered under her breath, singing softly from time to time as she climbed one of the ruined towers. She slipped on the moldering stairs but ignored the scrapes and cuts as she continued inexorably to the summit.

When she reached the top of the tower, Deirdre Dunraven walked to the edge and looked out over the gloomy fog which covered the ruined town below. She sighed softly and turned, smiling serenely at a shadowy figure behind her.

“It is you. I thought I heard you calling me. It has been so long and I am… so tired.” Deirdre watched the figure as it came closer, its features becoming more distinct. It was the figure of a man, with jet black hair pulled back into a ponytail, deep brown eyes and a feral grin. His gaze bore into her and she dropped her hands to her side submissively. “Have the End Days come at last?”

The figured nodded slowly, deliberately, and held out a dusty, blood-stained tome. When his voice came it was a low, far away rumble. “They come soon and we must prepare the way for our daughter.”

Deirdre’s face brightened. “Liadain, yes. We must. She is so strong… Such a good girl…”

“Aye… a good girl.” The figured laughed harshly as it moved closer to Deirdre. Her smile faded into uncertainty as she stepped back, her heel at the tower’s edge. The figure reached out, his desiccated hand in stark contrast to the rest of his form, and tapped her chest. Deirdre looked down and shuddered, a scream dying in her throat as she tumbled back off the tower and into the fog.

****************

Deirdre stood, listening to the winds gusting around her and watching the night elf… Folly? The elf seemed very distraught as she ran to the body on the ground, checking it for life and then crouching, her head in her hands. The elf’s companion, a large tiger, circled once before coming over to nuzzle his master. Deirdre sighed softly, regretting that the elf should feel guilty, and started to draw closer; to return to her.

“Deirdre.” The spirit drew up short and turned at the sound of the voice. A voice that was somehow familiar. Behind her was another ghostly figure, a formidable man with broad shoulders and a square jaw.

“Willem?” Her voice was a soft whisper which ought to have been lost in the gusting wind, but the man smiled.

“Aye.” Willem Tyne moved to her, reaching up and caressing her cheek. His touch brought back memories; so many memories. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“All this time? Even after… ?” Deirdre reached up hesitantly and put her hand over his, emotion causing her form to tremble.

“Even after.” Willem smiled. “You can be free of him. If you’re ready.”

Deirdre glanced back at the elf, who was now beginning to prepare the body for transport out of the pass. She hesitated. “Liadain… I know I wasn’t much use to her. With my mind so addled but…” Deirdre shook her head. “She would want me to see the children.”

“You can, even here. And I think, perhaps, she might want you to choose peace. It’s been a long road, has it not?” Willem took her hand in his and squeezed it gently.

Deirdre nodded, smiling ruefully. “It has.” She turned to him. “I’m sorry Willem. So sorry for my weakness. It has caused so much pain.”

“Shhh.” He lifted a finger to her lips. “I forgave you long ago and Liadain… She is your daughter and she loves you.”

Deirdre smiled and nodded, taking one last look at her mortal form. “I am ready… to be free.”

Willem stepped forward and took her small form in his arms, holding her tightly as their spirits dissipated into the wind.

[Mortica]

((hot damn..you just made my day! I've been wondering if we'd ever see anything more on this story!))

[Imara]

((Yup. I'm still around, as is Lia. :) Things just slowed for a bit. There will continue to be more. I promise. Though, this is sort of my effort to give Morghoul a last hurrah, at least for now. He is taking time away from the game. :( ))

[Redburn]

((Morghoul maybe taking some time off, but the rest of us in TCW are cooking something up for our past enemies :twisted: ))

[Kurohane]

(( Oh my. Do I need to prepare the bunny ears and Sailor Moon wig? ))

[Imara]

((Morghoul maybe taking some time off, but the rest of us in TCW are cooking something up for our past enemies :twisted: ))

(( What is it the kids say these days? ... Oh, yes. Bring it! Hehe. In all seriousness, I love working with you guys. I know I've spoken to a couple of you about keeping things going and I am more than willing to help in whatever way I can. :) ))

[Rhowen-Prea]

(( Oh my. Do I need to prepare the bunny ears and Sailor Moon wig? ))

(( *Eyes her own avatar...* Good to hear from you again, Lia. ))

[Imara]

From the Journal of Liadain Greyhame

It has, perhaps, been too long since I have written anything of note in this tattered old thing. You would think with all my self-imposed rest and relaxation these days I would be better about it.

I am actually writing this in Fleet Master Firallon’s quarters. Though I never did get any useful information out of the bloody goblins, I have managed to regain my place with the Bloodsails, and then some. They call me Admiral now. Jordan would be exceedingly amused, I’m sure. I’m down here this morning looking for Crow but no one has seen him in days. I hope he’s alright; it’s not like him to miss one of our meetings.

I hope he’s not gone digging up information on my father. Rumor has it that Morghoul has resurfaced, but nothing’s come of it yet. This makes me even more on edge around Yomi. Perhaps that’s not fair, as she is a Tear now and doesn’t seem to mean any harm these days, but I am nothing if not suspicious by nature. I feel like I’m on duty whenever I’m in the Tears camp, really… What with Shigana forever on the verge of setting off a catastrophe.

I can feel the babies move fairly often now and it’s getting harder and harder to get in my armor – even with the alterations. I am dreading the day that I’m forced to give up my work entirely. I hope I can put it off as long as possible, though I can tell by the concerned looks he gives me when he thinks I’m not looking that Celethorn would wish me on leave now. I just don’t see any point in getting soft until I have no other choice. Not with the bloody Scourge, quite literally, at our doorstep.

I’m trying not to worry Celethorn but the lust is growing greater. I can feel it. Like a hunger gnawing at me, keeping me on edge and threatening to make me careless. I find myself needing to go out and fight something, anything, to distract myself. The mana potions still seem to stave the worst of it off and physically I’m doing better. I haven’t felt as weak, nor have I had any fainting spells in recent memory. I just worry a bit that as the little ones grow I won’t know how to handle the greater demand…

Bah. I never used to worry this much. We’ll figure it out. I know Celethorn will know what can be done. I just hate troubling him. I know he hates the thought of me sharing his burden like this. Ah, well. I should head out. Go home and get some rest. Spend some quality time with my gruff half-elf and then get back to work.

No time for getting lazy.

[Imara]

(( The saga continues! http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=11379 ))