Necessity's Game

[Qabian]

Qabian turned along the road to Saltheril's Haven in the early afternoon. He was still having mixed thoughts about meeting Jastra again. He knew her husband was careless and distracted, but he still felt awkward cuckolding another man. He'd never offered himself up on the altar of a woman to know what that might be like. It wasn't that he was afraid. More like uncertain what reactions might result from this particular relationship alchemy.

He had considered bringing some supplies up from Silvermoon as he had occasionally done as an apprentice. The only reason he had considered it was because a strange kindness some random orc had shown to him at the mailbox in Undercity had left him with an even stranger remnant sense of altruism. However, he had thought better of it after passing through the Inn. He hadn't worked so hard during his apprenticeship to continue to be someone's errand boy, especially someone as inane as Saltheril.

He walked up to the neverending party. He nodded to a few of the guests who recognized him but didn't bother to bow. He didn't particularly want to talk to anyone there, and he didn't see Jastra among them. He decided to find something intensely interesting about the hors d'oeuvre table for as long as he could stand.

He was just about to give up and return the way he had come, when Jastra came walking up over the hills, arm in arm with some other noblewoman he had never seen before. They were laughing and carrying a bouquet between them. Qabian couldn't help but smile genuinely when he saw her. There were few left in this world that he could feel some attachment to, but Jastra had reintegrated herself into his life quite smoothly.

At a break in her conversation with the other woman, Jastra spotted him. She passed the bouquet to her partner in order to wave enthusiastically at him. He gave her his usual curt wave, along with his rare genuine smile.

"Magister," she said, curtseying low as she stepped up to him.

"Lady Sunbound," he returned, bowing extravagantly.

The moment he stood up straight again, Jastra threw her arms around Qabian's neck and kissed him full on the mouth. He staggered back in surprise, but caught himself on the edge of a table before gravity could work a full disaster.

The whispers of the gathered guests seemed to give Jastra the effect she wanted. She smiled as she freed him.

"My lady?" Qabian was at a loss for words. He could feel heat rising to his face. He wasn't sure whether it was anger, or embarassment, or something more positive.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," she teased. "What took you so long?"

"I have spent most of the week in the field of battle," he responded. "The Alliance needed--"

"Yes, yes. We know all about that, but it bores us here." Jastra looked over one shoulder and winked at the woman she had arrived with, who was standing with several others, watching the pair and whispering. "Now that I know you have the time, come with me. We're going to exchange stories." She took his arm by the elbow and guided him down towards the path away from the party.

His brow furrowed with frustration at his loss of control and her persistent shallow intentions. Didn't she understand how important it was to engage the Alliance at every opportunity? Did she even care that he'd brushed her aside for several days in a row to attend to that duty? He resisted the rising desire to throw her to the ground and walk away from her, even if it would probably do wonders to repair what she was doing to his reputation.

He wanted her knowledge, and then her submission. It was one thing to let her steer an afternoon alone together, but today she had been highly indiscreet in public. He would never have taken that kind of behavior from a simpler courtesan without immediately showing her the back of his hand. Maybe her husband was willing to let her run amok, but the kindly feelings he had felt toward her mere moments ago were quickly dissipating in the building heat of his indignation. He didn't appreciate being led around like an animal on a leash. Still, he followed her, at least until he learned what "story" she had for him.

[Vilmah]

He had considered bringing some supplies up from Silvermoon as he had occasionally done as an apprentice. The only reason he had considered it was because a strange kindness some random orc had shown to him at the mailbox in Undercity had left him with an even stranger remnant sense of altruism.

((Heeeee!))

[Qabian]

((Shh! You'll ruin my bad guy image. :D))

[Redcap]

((this open? May I torment you? :O ))

[Qabian]

(( In theory. :D It will continue, so I will probably have him just up and leave at some point, but you can do your worst while he's still around. ))

[Redcap]

Redcap noticed his guildmate being led by a female, he also noticed the look of embarassment on his face and figured he could use some help.

Redcap stepped into the shadows and begins trailing the Blood Elves.

Redcap thinks: "If Qabian needed help my blades are ready, if he ends up In flagrante delicto with the female, I have my camera, if he ends up killing her, I have my camera, no matter what, it looked like a good day. "

[Qabian]

"You are angry with me," Jastra said, turning to face Qabian as they entered the garden of the Duke's vast valley estate, well-hidden in the hills of Eversong. Neither seemed to have any notion they might have been followed.

Qabian considered lying to placate her in an effort to get this information sharing session over with as quickly as possible, but decided the ensuing argument about her correct perception of his emotion would be a worthless waste of time. "Yes."

"I was merely giving the gossips something to excite them for the week. It does get rather dreary here, you know, especially outside the city."

Qabian rolled his eyes. "How droll for the social status I have managed to build up with productive efforts in rebuilding our people to be reduced to farce in one fell swoop. I truly appreciate the sentiment. And how often are you actually outside the city?" Sarcasm dripped venom from his voice.

She laughed. "You do understand some things. It will give the Duke his entertainment, at least. He seems to enjoy hearing about my conquests."

Qabian frowned. "I also do not appreciate being considered a 'conquest'. There are important--"

She lifted a finger to his lips to silence him.

He gripped her wrist suddenly and tightly, and turned it away from him, twisting her arm. "I suggest you refrain from interrupting me. I am tiring of your games."

The noblewoman looked confused, then hurt. She tugged her arm from his grasp and held it close to her. It began to redden where he had grabbed it. "I see. You think I made a fool of you."

He refused to dignify the obvious with a response.

"Perhaps I have made a mistake," she conceded.

"Perhaps you have." He scowled. "If you have nothing for me, then, I'll be going. People out there need to die by my hand." He turned on his heel, fully intent on leaving.

"Wait!" she called to his departing back. She quickly added, "If you will, please! I do have something to show you, if you are still willing, and I am still interested in your story, if you will share it."

That was more like it. The game moved back to his court.

[Redcap]

Redcap chuckled to himself, Qabian was going to make a great guildmate. He seemed to have problems with females like he did.

Taking some etchings for prosperity and for ribbing later, Redcap wondered if there was anyway Qabian wouldn't see this as funny as he did.

Thoughts like these made Redcap realize he was much younger than anyone he had met so far and he hoped no one realized just how young he was.

The white hair helped and the pirate talk helped him feel more like the Captn, his normal speech patterns learned in school in Silvermoon brought back the feelings of helplessness his older sisters made him feel.

Thinking of his sisters always brought forth thoughts of Mother and that just wouldn't make a young shadowwalkers day get any better.

"Yes, it's better to distance myself from my heritage and blood family and concentrate on my Grim family, maybe I can go kill a gnome after Qabian is done with his lady friend." Redcap thought.

"I wonder where that pretty Druidess went, I bet a kiss from her would make Mother faint if nothing else."

"Maybe Qabian will want to kill this female also, if so I better be ready to pick her pockets before we end her life."

Redcap begins to fidget, he goes through his opening moves mentally, applies poison and hopes his fellow Grim would get on with it.

[Qabian]

Qabian glared at the woman standing before him, but the brash, cheerful young lady didn't look back. She stared at the ground submissively, rubbing her tender arm. He sighed and his anger ebbed.

Yes, he wanted her submission, but he couldn't help thinking she was making mistakes because of an innocent good humor, rather than the malice he assumed of everyone else. They were the same age. She had seen the war as he had, but where he had seen it rip from him the friends he had thought of as his life, she had used it to advance herself. Her outlook was thus considerably more positive and less angry than his own. He was punishing her for that. It was right to do so, to teach her the lessons she had managed to neglect to learn, but he still felt her innocence. It was not entirely her fault that she acted the part of a buffoon. She was a victim of circumstances as much as anyone else.

He looked around. It was difficult to maneuver himself in this unfamiliar territory, but he did not want to hand her back the reins just yet. He motioned to a white stone bench alongside the path through the garden, and walked ahead of her to sit there first.

The Lady Sunbound followed behind him, obediently, still watching the ground. She was still playing the game. She had let the pieces change hands for the moment, but she was no fool. There was as much control in the appearance of submission as there was in direct command.

He watched her slowly lower herself onto the bench beside him. She was overplaying her part. She was not happy to have been chastized. Obviously, this gossip business was quite important to her. After all that had happened, she was still just a silly girl who always got what she wanted. He watched her toe the ground with one foot as she waited for him to make the next move. He laughed, but didn't comment on her overwrought reactions to his moment of anger. She had, however, succeeded in making him more amenable to speaking.

"The human girl."

Jastra suddenly looked up at him with a bright smile. Qabian shook his head at her and laughed.

"Yes, I will tell you, if only because there is nothing to tell. She was some meaningless piece of Dalaran flotsam. After twice attempting my life and failing where she was certainly capable of succeeding, she decided I would help her find her father. I helped her find her father." A twisted grin formed on his face at the memory.

Jastra nodded, but didn't interrupt.

"Other than the fact that she was capable but stupid, she was entirely unremarkable. However, I did acquire this from her." Qabian reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out a small bundle of white linens. He slowly unwrapped the cloth, revealing a shining black dagger with a gleaming steel hilt and a blade of near surgical sharpness, dark as the unknown, resting on his outstretched palm. "She said she found it in the Plaguelands. I have not had the time to research its origins, but it is quite beautiful. I thought, perhaps, a gift, in exchange for our afternoon."

She smiled at him, but made no move to take the knife. He returned the smile. He would not let her have it yet anyway, not while he was still here and she so recently belittled by him. She may be a silly girl, but she was Sin'dorei, and not unlikely to stab him when he had his back turned, even if any of the feelings she had shown him were genuine.

And of course, like most things he said, it was a lie. He had done his research. The blade was infused with ill magic, likely to turn the fortunes of any who used it. Its original owner was most likely a Kirin Tor wizard conveniently caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, now turned shadow mage of the Scourge. It was also probably only because the human girl had left the blade behind that she had been found and rescued on the beach, although Qabian himself remained unaware of that event.

He wanted to rid himself of the blade and knew it would be best to transfer ownership rather than hide it. He was also scientifically curious to see if Jastra would use it and what its effects might be on her. When he had felt kindly towards her, he had intended to present it to her husband instead and satisfy his curiosity that way, but she had changed that with a few actions of her own. And with this payment for her services, he effectively reduced any personal attachment with her to that of a customer's business relationship.

He wrapped the blade back up and placed it in the planter next to the bench. "I will leave it here for you. Now, you said you have something for me?"

She nodded slowly. Her smile was now quite bland. She did not appreciate the gift and the social meaning of its exchange, even if it was unlikely she recognized the true ill intent behind it. However, the insult to her judgment in selecting him as a "conquest", and the fact that the gossip she had received was not nearly as salacious as she had been hoping, did not dissuade her from her part of the bargain, although perhaps only because she thought he might kill her if she refused. "It's in the cellar, behind the house. Shall I show you the way?"

Qabian raised an eyebrow. The cellar? He began to suspect a trap, even though for all her Sin'dorei deception she didn't seem the type to truly want him dead. She had certainly had the opportunity to kill him before. Even just now, she could have tried it with the offered blade. Their past did not hold any ill will that he could discern, other than what had grown between them just this afternoon, and she had expressed this intent to share with him almost a week ago. She didn't even seem capable of entrapping him. He was fairly certain he could take her out along with any of the Duke's soft lazy guards that she might call.

He scanned the massive winged mansion that overlooked the garden where they sat together. It was completely unfamiliar, having been built only recently. She would have the advantage of knowing the terrain. Still, she would be considerably more foolish than he thought if she attempted to take him on alone.

He frowned. She saw the consternation in his expression. "I will be alone the whole time. If I try anything, you may kill me. If any of the staff or guardsmen approach, you may kill me," she said, appeasing him with honey sweet assurances.

"I see," he said, still not trusting her. She certainly shouldn't trust him. "All right. I will follow, but if anything seems amiss, I warn you that I won't hold back."

Without another word, she began to walk down the path. He followed her at a short distance, hoping to gain a better view of any who might approach.

((If Redcap takes the dagger, you can do whatever you like with it. It's mostly just unlucky and likely to get whoever owns it stuck in bad situations. If he doesn't, Jastra will get it.))

[Redcap]

Gathering up his gnomish etching device Redcap followed along, if anyone touched Qabian, the Magus's fire wouldn't be the only thing the errant fools felt.

"Silly bitches they all seem to be." Redcap mused.

Redcap followed the two elves.

((I can't do much but respond to what you write Qabian, I don't want to write you fighting from the ledges like some fantasy world Errol Flynn. "

[Qabian]

((I know. I didn't really write this very openly for other people, but it might be interesting after the fact to have had a spy. :o Q's just kind of doing his own thing along with the story I already had for him. But he did leave the knife-present he brought out in the open, so I wasn't sure if Red would be curious enough to steal it after they left. :D))

[Redcap]

((I know. I didn't really write this very openly for other people, but it might be interesting after the fact to have had a spy. :o Q's just kind of doing his own thing along with the story I already had for him. But he did leave the knife-present he brought out in the open, so I wasn't sure if Red would be curious enough to steal it after they left. :D))

((Shadowwalkers do not steal, we find, we acquire, we discover lost things))

[Syreena]

((if he doesn't take the dagger, he's not a real rogue. ;) ))

[Lascivious]

((if he doesn't take the dagger, he's not a real rogue. ;) ))

...... *ahem*

[Redcap]

((I know. I didn't really write this very openly for other people, but it might be interesting after the fact to have had a spy. :o Q's just kind of doing his own thing along with the story I already had for him. But he did leave the knife-present he brought out in the open, so I wasn't sure if Red would be curious enough to steal it after they left. :D))

((/waves hands, Fine fine I'll take Qabian's cursed dagger and sell it after I ask if anyone know's about it))

Redcap reaches down and pockets the dagger, it seems like something he would do automatically.

He stalks after the two Elves, humming a jaunty sea tune in his head

[Qabian]

Nothing untoward happened on the long walk around the manor to the cellar, despite Qabian's suspicions. Obviously unused to manual labor, Jastra struggled to move the long awkward wooden beam that kept the simple, heavy, low-angled doors shut from the outside. Qabian did not move to help her. He simply stood and watched. She took a long hairpin from her black tresses, and they fell around her shoulders from the tight style she had been wearing. She slipped the hairpin between the two doors to loosen an inner latch. Satisfied, she twirled the hairpin lazily back into her hair, creating a surprisingly easy and attractive half up style, mostly loose, but that kept the bulk of her long curls out of her eyes. Qabian couldn't help but be slightly intrigued by this intensely feminine movement.

He shook the subsequent daydream out of his mind as she managed, grunting, to pull the right door up. She motioned with her head and stared at him. She obviously wanted to issue him a command, but was thinking twice about it. He nodded at her, and made his way forward into the cellar and down the steps. As soon as his head cleared the door, she crouched and let the door slam above them, then latched it closed from the inside.

Before she could reach the lantern that was kept immediately at hand, Qabian created his own ball of white flame and placed it above his shoulder. It lit the room far more effectively than any lantern. Knowing what he didn't, Jastra lit the lantern anyway and brought it with her, although she did not bother to raise it above her waist.

They passed endless rows of barrels, bottles in racks, shelves of preserves and hanging slabs of smoked meat. Finally, behind a pair of particularly massive wine barrels, chained by iron clasps around his ankles to a bracket low in the stone wall, was the form of a thin elf, skin the pallor of death, wearing rags of what had once been robes, strange bluish growths protruding from its humped back, arms clutching its legs tightly to its chest, face buried.

"This is what you had to show me? Some poor Wretched scum you've decided to keep as a pet? Is this the new fashion? To cage the diseased filth that were once our own?" Qabian asked, disgusted.

At the sound of his voice, the Wretched looked up. "Kyu-ay?" it croaked.

Qabian staggered backwards for the second time in one day. He felt like gravity was attempting to throw him. "Larinth?!"

The shock caused him to lose the little focus he needed for his light. The cellar dimmed as the lighting was reduced to Jastra's lantern. She lifted it and placed the lantern on one of the barrels.

"What have you done, you stupid whore?" Qabian spat at the noblewoman.

She merely smiled. His reaction was what she had been waiting for for the better part of a week, and it was apparently worth everything that had passed during that time.

Qabian turned back to face the Wretched. "Larinth. I-I thought you were lost." He stepped slowly closer to his friend's decrepit form. "You ran away. We heard what -- We couldn't find you."

The Wretched blinked its pale glowing eyes at him, but didn't move. Although there was obvious recognition, it didn't seem to understand any of the words being said.

"Why is he here?" Qabian asked, not taking his eyes off the Wretched. He reached out one hand towards it. It stood up and moved towards him in response, its chains jangling in the still silence underground.

"The guards in Falconwing caught it stealing supplies. They were just going to kill it, but I was there meeting with one of my other conquests," Jastra explained with a smirk. "The thing kept repeating your name and I remembered you. It's why I was watching you when you left with the girl. I was coming to see you anyway. I thought to arrange this little meeting and the guards didn't care to stop me as long as it was no longer bothering them."

Qabian's hand met with that of his Wretched friend. In that instant touch, Qabian knew all of his friend's pain. The hurt the Magister had felt following the Sunwell's destruction was nothing compared to this all-consuming emptiness that threatened to shatter his very being.

The Wretched grabbed the Magister's hand in its own. Qabian's bright green gaze was returned by his old friend's pale stare. The Magister's expression was one of concern and confusion. The Wretched's was blank as always. The welts on its back pulsated with their sickly blue light. Qabian could feel the Wretched draining him of his power. He didn't even know they had learned this skill. Remarkable even in this state, just as he had always known him to be in the past. Leave it to Larinth Brightwing to learn to siphon mana as a Wretched, and yet it still not be enough to save him from his disease.

Larinth was gone. There was nothing but this thief. This thief had no life of its own beyond the desperate need for mana, and now it was stealing that from the person who had once loved it as a brother, who to this day fought in its old name every day, destroying the corrupt Alliance scum that had allowed this tragedy to happen in the first place.

The drain was slow at first, then fiercer, as the Wretched took everything from its prey, magic and life both. Qabian's eyes widened in panic. He couldn't let go of the Wretched's hand. It was a trap after all, one he had walked into willingly.

"La-Larinth -- you're..." The young Magister lost consciousness, collapsing to the packed dirt floor of the Sunbounds' cellar.

When he blinked his eyes open again, he was on his back. Jastra was kneeling over him, lightly patting his face. "What happened?" he asked with a groan, sitting up with one hand to his head.

She had dragged him out of the Wretched's reach. The Wretched still stood where it was, its blank expression now held a smile.

"Kyu-ay," it said, in its rough, unused voice.

Qabian looked from Jastra to his old friend and back. "What exactly do you expect me to do about him?" he asked the noblewoman.

The Wretched itself provided the answer. "Kill me."

Qabian choked. The magic that had been drained from him seemed to be enough to allow the Wretched to find its lost words. "But I just found you. Couldn't you just siphon enough to cure yourself? How can--"

"There is never enough. There is not enough in this world or any other. I have killed many more like you in the attempt. You know it now. You know this. This is worse than hell. You know. In the blind pain of this, I called you because you would end it right. End it."

Qabian covered his face with his hands. "The knife -- I --"

It shook its head. "With magic," it said.

"But you took all I --" Qabian's breathing was heavy now. Not so long ago, this creature had been the only thing worth existing to protect. Then this creature had been the source of all the feelings of vengeance, all that need for payback. Now, this creature asked him for the only gift that he dared not give. He would rather give his own life than take this one.

And with all that, how could he possibly refuse? How could he continue to live knowing the unending torment his friend felt every moment of continued existence? The Wretched wanted only to be finally consumed by what was already consuming it. How could Qabian, knowing how it felt, knowing the truth of that pain, refuse this request?

Qabian got to his feet, slowly, still dizzy from the encounter. He reached into his pouch and took out a small glowing green gem he had prepared earlier. He pressed the gem into his palm and took its power. It lost all its color, then shattered into fine dust. His steadiness returned with the magic.

He put his hands together and focused his concentration. The Wretched continued to just smile at the young Magister. Qabian couldn't afford to be distracted by the life he and this creature had once shared, times full of true ambition, and the only times he had known as happy, ruined by so many stupid mistakes of others. He focused only on the flame, its heat, its power. There was nothing else in the world. Not himself. Not Jastra Sunbound. Not this Wretched. Only magic. Only fire.

Qabian drew more fire to him than he ever had before. In the hands of someone with fewer decades of training, the power he was summoning would likely have incinerated the entire contents of the cellar and anything in the vicinity not made of stone, but he focused the flame into a pillar the width of a man, and when he had gathered as much as his well-honed mind could hold, he released it.

The Wretched incinerated instantly, leaving behind nothing more than a pile of smoking ash beneath the pair of smoldering manacles.

Jastra lowered her arms. She had raised them to ward off the blinding light and sudden burst of heat. She gasped. "You did it."

Qabian shoved her out of his way as he moved angrily through the cellar. Reaching the door, he pushed it violently upwards, breaking the latch from the inside. It slammed against the ground when it flew open.

"Qabian! Qabian, wait!" Jastra called from where she stood on the cellar steps.

He didn't wait. She'd gotten what she wanted. If he ever saw her again, it would be too soon, and it would probably be for the last time. He would listen for rumors of the effects of the dagger he left her, and he would be glad to hear of her misfortune. Once outside the cellar, he took off at a run, racing through Eversong, not paying any attention to which direction he was going or where he might end up.

[Redcap]

Redcap pulled the sickly dagger from its wrappings and applied the vilest poison he has yet learned to make and then concentrated his hate for those who betray and he hammered his blades into Jastra's kidneys, leaning in to whisper into her ears as he body locked up from shock.

"You should never ever harm one of our own, die in agony"

He pulls his blades apart and the body falls in two halves, to insure this one was dead his blades crossed in a X one severing the windpipe the other removing the top of the skull.

Redcap grinned thinking of the other shadowwalkers in Grim who used dagger's "Let's see them do that much damage with their puny stickers" he mused.

Placing his blades back in their scabbards Redcap ghosted after his friend, his work on killing the Elf a matter of mere moments

[Qabian]

((Geez, don't piss off the Grim. They'll repay curiosity by splitting you in half! Haha!))

Qabian didn't stop running until he hit the banks of the Elrendar. There he stumbled to a halt a few feet into the river, then slumped to his knees in the water. He covered his face with his hands. His thoughts were... completely still, blank, as if someone had hit him in the head with great force, so that even though he was still conscious, he was incapable of taking in anything around him.

The sound of the water around him broke into his vacant mind, this water, life giver, messenger, douser, drowner, drink. He struggled to his feet, walked a few steps further until he was submerged up to his neck, then let himself fall backwards.

From beneath the surface, he looked up at the sun, life giver, source of all things. But below the water, that world could be shut out. All he could hear was his heartbeat and his own thoughts. Everything else, breath and air, existed in another world that he could only see dimly and blurred through the film of the surface.

Here, at the bottom of a river, fire was nothing at all. Nothing at all. Nothing at all.

[Redcap]

((Geez, don't piss off the Grim. They'll repay curiosity by splitting you in half! Haha!))

((Redcap has a problem with BE females, if you ever read some of my background or meet my sister you will realize just how horrified of them he is, he saw one make you sad and he did something he never could have done with Mahakali or his Mother, in essence he is trying to kill his bad times))

[Qabian]

Anyone who has tried to stay underwater for any length of time without the aid of weights knows that it is quite difficult. As it was, death was not what Qabian was seeking at the bottom of the Elrendar. He was trying to retrieve his own lost mind in a world other than the one he knew. He was seeking reason by pursuing the unreasonable.

When his lungs finally threatened him with pain should he refuse to breathe any longer, Qabian broke the surface and gasped for breath. Denial did make air taste sweeter. There was a life here still to be lived. There were lives here still to be taken. However, what connected him to this place, this city, this people was even more slender than it had been when the day had started.

He did not doubt his own actions. He had done what he knew was necessary. Leaving Larinth as he had become for even one more hour would have been a cruelty Qabian never could have shouldered.

He was still angry, if not angrier than he had been before. Where was the Prince? Why had he still not returned from Outland? Why was he doing nothing for his people who obviously still needed him? Qabian had intended to travel there eventually, but with this particular blood on his hands, he felt the need to do so much more strongly.

Qabian crossed the river, walked out of the water and up the bank of the opposite side. He did not bother to dry himself off, although he certainly had the ability and control at his fingertips. Such physical change and comfort hardly seemed to matter. His copper hair, darkened almost to black and heavy with water, hung limp and dripping down his back. His face was dewy, droplets forming off his nose and brows, running down his high cheeks from his hair. There could have been tears and no one would have been able to tell. His clothing plastered to him, soaking wet. He gathered up an edge of his drenched robes over one arm so that they did not impede his movement, and he walked. Slowly, without any hurry to his sodden steps, he followed the flow until he found the road and regained his bearings in relation to the city.

Silvermoon, the city that had failed him by allowing the Wretched to exist in the state they were in. He made it his mission to slay every one of the diseased cretins he happened across while he walked, most of them needing no more than a single blast of flame to fall lifeless.

By the time he reached the city gates, the perpetual autumn sun had moved significantly lower in the sky. As he walked up the road, passersby looked at him and whispered, although he paid no attention, assuming they were simply noting his strange, damp appearance. Just inside the gates, he was greated by a large company of the city guard, accompanied by several warlocks and their felhunters. Two of the guards took him roughly by the arms, and Qabian promptly found himself spell locked. They were all too good at their jobs to flinch at his wet clothing.

"Qabian Amberlight, Magister, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of the Duchess, Lady Jastra Sunbound," one of the armored men announced.

Qabian grinned. That had happened much faster than he had hoped.

[Qabian]

Qabian was taken into custody and allowed a chance to change into some drab but dry prisoner's clothing. He didn't fight his guards, but he also didn't think they could do much to him. There could be no proof that he had committed the crime of which he was charged, considering he hadn't committed it, at least not directly.

He was brought alone before a judge, not coincidentally a good friend of the Duke Sunbound. Qabian smiled and bowed with utmost politeness.

The proceedings went on behind closed doors. They could have simply dispatched with him and the city at large would have to be content without an explanation. With the formalities of his introduction to this court of one out of the way, the judge began, "Witnesses saw you leave Saltheril's with the victim. Do you deny this?"

"No," Qabian answered calmly.

"Witnesses also say that you were upset with the victim when you left. Is this true?"

"Yes."

"Did you viciously mutilate Lady Jastra Sunbound on the steps of the cellar of her own home?"

Qabian blinked. That was interesting new information. "I did not, but I did kill her."

The judge coughed. "Is that so?"

Qabian nodded solemnly.

"This case has already been discussed with the council and your guilt was assumed. In consideration of your efforts as an apprentice during the war and your help in rebuilding this city, it has been agreed to commute your sentence. You will be stripped of your title and exiled from Silvermoon until further notice."

Qabian nodded again. He had thought to hand in his resignation, but worried about still having access to the resources of the Magisters. Apparently the decision was made for him. It would be better this way. He would have to engage some stealth to continue to train his jewelcraft, but it would only require an occasional visit. The rest he would learn from others. The Banshee Queen's city was not aesthetically appealing, but it certainly had sufficient resources.

"You will be escorted to the transporter," the judge noted. "Your belongings will be forwarded to the Magic Quarter in the Undercity."

Qabian bowed low, and then was escorted by the armored guards from the room. A few onlookers outside watched as he was escorted through the Spire. Another might have been disappointed or even fought for his innocence, but Qabian saw this punishment as a forced freedom: freedom from the incessant intrigue; freedom from his past; freedom from the continuous, crushing presence of loss; freedom to focus on what he needed to do -- murder as many Alliance as possible.

The Grand Magister glared at Qabian as the procession passed the leaders where they stood in discussion. Magisters becoming so dramatically involved in the petty squabbles of nobility was not exactly appreciated. Qabian returned the glare with a twisted smile of his own. There was more to this world than the Sin'dorei and their illness. There was hell to pay. There was peace through annihilation.

[Redcap]

Redcap followed his new friend to court and hear what the court had passed, thinking of how Mother never really did anything for him and his new status in his guild left Redcap with a bounce in his step. Redcap strolled up to one of the larger houses in Silvermoon and rapped on the door. He carefully straightened his guild tabbard and loosened his swords. A footman in royal livery opened the door, his eyes widened at the sight of the Shadowwalker on the step and nearly lept from his head as he saw the Grim symbols embroidered on his surcoat.


"Devon, you may announce me, tell the Marchioness that her son The Earl 'Arnor Morrigan Dawnspire' is here. Oh and Devon, tell Mother if she won't talk to her son then Redcap of The Grim is at the door and if she would like to keep him outside she should come and greet her son."


The footman shuddered at the ice dripping from The Grim at the door, he didn't know who to be more afraid of the Magess he was delivering the message to or the Hatemonger at the door. Redcap put on a unaffected air, completely unknown to his new friends, he sighed and shifted from foot to foot as if waiting outside the door was the most boring thing he had ever done. Finally after a few short minuets the door opened and a young red headed girl appeared. Redcap's grim smile turned into a beam of pure sunshine as he looked at his youngest sister.


"Orisa, it is always good to see you and even a day is much too long." Redcap gathered his sister in a fierce hug and swung her around. Orisa was dressed like a novice priestess she is, and instead of being upset that the White haired youth was rumpling her dignity, looking at her eyes you could see she was just as happy as her brother was. "You know I am but a diversion, Mother figured sending me to gather you would more likely bring her son, not some ice eyed killer from Grim"

Redcap grimaced a bit but the smile came right back on his face, he had a plan and he got to see his sister and he was the newest Hatemonger in Grim, all was right with Azeroth, well most of it anyway. Redcap followed his sister up the stairs and through the house to his mother studies, she let him in and beckoned him in.

"Be careful, I see by your colors that you are Grim now, however Mother was playing at intrigue when your new friends were not even a gleam in their own parents eyes and say hello to Serj" Redcap looked startled that his Orisa would even know the forsaken rogue Serjazul and vowed to look over her more often. As Orisa was pulling the door closed she whispered "And Mintche, tell him thank you for the flowers." A little of Redcaps anger resurfaced as he turned to speak to the Magus in her own lair.


((Qabian, I'll leave it up to you. I have written my rp for my mother to be high up in the Mage's guild, its in my bio :) so I can appeal to her and she can deny my claim or grant you clemancy, of course we may have to do a quest))

[Qabian]

((I think it would be pretty cool if you made the request and something terrible happened to Redcap as a result, hehe. :D Q was planning on leaving the Magisters anyway. It was only a matter of time. So he's not likely to put any effort of his own into getting back in, or he wouldn't have lied and confessed to killing Jastra in the first place. Even if he was pardoned or proven innocent, he wouldn't pick up the title again.

But do whatever you think seems like fun. I'll react. :)))

[Ninorra]

She hadn't been outside for very long.

Ninorra seldom walked through Silvermoon. The source of much gossip and a target for the insults of nobility, she found that being social was having far too many ill effects for her taste. However, there was still work to be done, and as both the wife of a nobleman and a warlock in training, she had a responsibility to both him and her growing skills.

However, that isn't to say that she wouldn't be as distracted by the procession of a prisoner as the rest of the crowd.

He was young, and admittedly rather attractive. The guards led a Sin'dorei who's long hair was damp and wore prisoner's clothes. He looked.. pleased? She couldn't exactly tell, but there was something off in the way his face was contorted.

"What did he do?" She asked a stranger to her left.

The older woman shook her head. "Murdured Lady Jastra Sunbound. Make no mistake, he'll get what's coming to him."

"Lady Jastra Sunbound..?" Ninorra repeated.

She knew the name. The girl was a tremendous gossip, and the source of even more scandal that Ninorra herself. If her death didn't please Ninorra, it certainly didn't bring her sadness.

"Why do you suppose he killed her?"

"Don't you know? They were having an affair. Huh.." the older woman scoffed. "I pity her husband for the fool he was."

Again, Ninorra noted the pleased and calm expression on Qabian's face. Now she knew exactly what that expression was, because it was the same one that she had worn herself less than a year ago.

"..he's innocent," Ninorra said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

As if on cue, the officer who was leading the procession with Qabian caught a glimpse of Ninorra in the corner of his eye. Calling them to a halt, he gave the confused other officers a glare, and walked towards the young heiress.

"Ninorra Gitana.." he said, in a tone not above a growl. The officer was very tall, with slicked back black hair and an air of dominance. "I haven't seen you in a very long time, but I hear you're not keeping out of trouble."

She smiled. "Detective Brighthope, you honor me with your greeting."

"I'd watch your step, Gitana," he retorted. "The moment I'm finished bringing that one to justice, I'm going to return to my case with you. Make no mistake about that."

"I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for.." Ninorra said calmly. She glanced at Qabian's face again. "By the way.. that man is innocent."

Brighthope glared at her. "You don't know him."

"No, but I know that face," she said with a smile. "It's the same one I gave you, and as you recall.. I was proven innocent on all charges."

"We'll see about that," the detective growled, his tone raising in pitch. "Lord Virgos DiSantos was a good friend of mine, and the moment I discover how you managed to murder him, I'll make sure that you suffer a worse fate."

There was a bit of silence between them. The guards holding Qabian looked uncomfortable as they exchanged glances. Ninorra smiled. "Your duty awaits, Detective Brighthope."

With a large sweep of his long red cloak, Brighthope turned from Ninorra and returned to the procession. Ninorra kept her eye on Qabian, curious as to why he would take the blame for something he did not do.

[Qabian]

Qabian calmly waited out the interruption. He was somewhat impatient to be out of the city for good, but he paid attention. He noted the perceptive woman's name as the detective addressed her. It sounded familiar, but Qabian couldn't quite place it in his memory.

She kept repeating his innocence. It was the truth, but why bother when a man confesses? The wonderful thing about the law was that confession was almost always more effective than evidence. Strange how people would believe any words, provided they were the ones they wanted to hear.

This way would be best after all. No one would expect him to come back. No one would call him back. No one would try to silence him when he spoke of battle and vengeance and nothing else.

There was his mother, but they had never been close. She led a silent widow's life, and paid no attention to her son while he returned the favor. She probably wouldn't even notice he was gone.

When the procession continued, Qabian turned to look at this Ninorra as he passed her. He put one finger to his lips in a motion for silence, and smiled at her. In response, one of his guards jostled him to keep him moving ahead.

[Ninorra]

She kept her silence.

Ninorra watched them lead Qabian away, curious as to why he'd want to admit to a crime that he did not commit. There was obviously more to this case than everyone knew, but there was very little she could do anyway. She did not know him, but she did feel a certain kinship for him, considering that not long ago she had been in his place. The difference was, he apparently wanted to be there.

She returned his smile, and gave Qabian a wink. Perhaps if he was released, she would be able to speak with him.

[Redcap]

((GAHHHH Stop posting Qabian work is too busy to post today, ill edit this when i get home to see what she says, i may even ask the guards how the lady died etc, and show up with some Grim minions, the guards okay, But they arent Grim))

[Qabian]

((Haha! But I was just gonna post Q setting up shop in UC. :D No worries. I'll keep my pants on.))

[Vilmah]

((I'll keep my pants on.))

((*snaps*))

[Qabian]

((This is a collab post we worked on together. :D Red's lines are his and Q's are mine.))

Qabian sat on a simple wooden chair backed into one of the tidier corners of the Grim hall, his legs crossed and tucked up under him, a massive tome across his lap. He had the corner lit with his own magic. He was flipping through the book in a particularly impatient manner, muttering something about humans needing to learn to index properly. As was inevitable, he sliced his finger along the edge of a page. "Anar'alah --" he swore, lifting his finger to his mouth. The interruption caused him to look up and see Redcap standing before him.

The mage had no idea how long the rogue had been standing there, and in Qabian's irritated state he was simply not amused. "Can I help you?" he asked roughly.

"Qabian, you left your dagger," Redcap holds out the obsidian knife.

Qabian looked shocked, and nearly let the book slide from his lap, magical light flickering. He caught the text before it hit the floor, straightened the pages, and carefully closed it. Book rescued, Qabian stared at the dagger for a long moment, then looked up at the rogue. "So it was you."

"I saw you leave from Saltheril's. You looked unhappy when you left with the female," Redcap explained with a smirk. "I picked this up when you left it. Never leave evidence."

"Get rid of it," Qabian ordered.

"What?"

"The dagger. You need to get rid of it. And you need to transfer ownership. You can't just throw it away. You need to give it to someone, and there's no way in the Nether you're giving it to me," the mage explained.

"What do you mean? I don't understand."

"The person I took it from died unpleasantly, notably at my own hand, but their luck was certainly not with them. After I had it in my possession, I did the one thing I never wanted to do in my lifetime. The person I gave it to, even though she never touched it, met a fairly disastrous end of her own, I assume thanks to you. The more quickly you get rid of it, the more luck you'll have. I suggest passing it off to an enemy," Qabian said.

Redcap laughed. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? A string of bad luck coincides with finding a dagger, and you're so easily convinced it's cursed? The human got away after she dropped it and the Blood elf died after putting it down. Sounds iffy either way."

Qabian frowned. "Wait. Got away? I hardly think that -- Nevermind. This is not a game. It was taken from Scourge. It's Scourge magic. Risk it if you wish, but I'll be staying well out of your way as long as you're carrying it."

Redcap rolled his eyes. "I went to talk to my mother. She is a high ranking Magister. Once I explained where I would have to move if my friend was banished from the city and that I would have my new guildmates living with me and which of my new guildmates, she agreed to rescind your punishment. After all she has her precious daughter back and wouldn't want my old suite to be the new Shadowstalker quarters from Grim."

Qabian raised a brow. That was more new information. A Grim son of a high ranking Magistrix? The mage filed the information in the back of his mind.

Qabian interrupted with a laugh, but it was not a laugh of amusement. "How generous of you, considering you're the guilty party, but don't go out of your way for my sake."

Redcap holds up his hand. "You are my brother now. As long as you and I wear these colors, a hurt to you is a hurt to me, and I do not take a hurt to myself unavenged."

"I am still a minion," Qabian mumbled. "I have no colors yet." He continued more clearly, "In any case, I'm hardly about to take up residence in the Grim Hall, although that is an interesting method of convincing your mother. I am in the process of acquiring an apartment in the Undercity. Yes, it may take a few days, and it smells terrible there, but I've had enough of the city I helped rebuild for now. I don't want to see it any longer. I'll be fine with the Forsaken.

"I have no intention of returning to the Magisters. And I do not intend to return to Silvermoon until I have been to Outland for myself and finally found out what our beloved Prince is up to. I have heard many strange whispers in the time I've spent out of the city. I am going to find him, and when I do, I am going to learn what he's been doing. I don't need Silvermoon's permission or Silvermoon's titles to ask the questions I am going to ask, and I am likely better off without that allegiance. The Grim do not hesitate, and I no longer have the patience for hesitation. It is with the Grim that I will answer my questions, not with Lor'themar or Rommath.

"As for the sentence, it was convenient for me to accept it. Do you think I would have confessed to something you did, if I intended to fight their decision for me? I knew no harm would come to me. My being a Magister outweighed any desire for vengeance the Duke may have had. Besides, they had already decided I was guilty, whether I confessed or not.

"Thank you for killing that vermin of a woman, by the way. I had hoped she would suffer considerably longer, but you repaid a serious wound." The mage finished his speech with a solemn nod of thanks.

Redcap returned the nod. "You didn't know who killed her and the guards still don't. Dread Mage Lupen or any mage of skill could verify the truthfulness of you not killing her. If you want to leave, leave but don't take blame or credit for a body you did not kill."

"Ah, so that's it, is it?" Qabian smirked. "I took credit for your kill? That's a laugh. I would have killed her myself given the time. You just got to her more quickly. It was ever so convenient, really. The only reason I currently have to go back to Silvermoon is a few elements of research and study, and I am already arranging for a disguise during those times. I suspect I may eventually be able to lean the weight of the Grim on my exile, anyway, and be allowed some reprieve to at least use the city's resources on occasion. In the meantime, I have no use for Silvermoon," said Qabian.

Redcap said, "If you really have no use for Silvermoon, do what I do, rub their faces in their failure to affect you at all."

"Between Undercity and the Grim hall, I have already left. They can't affect me if I don't go back. And I'm certainly not going to pander to the Magisters any longer. They are too easily distracted. I would prefer to focus, and I believe it will be far easier to focus without being continuously surrounded by Silvermoon's intrigue. I thank you for your efforts to set things right, as you may see it, but I am content with how that incident turned out. Mostly."

A gloom passed over Qabian's face. His expression glazed for a moment, but he shook it off and continued. "If you wish to go back and take credit for my confessed crime, go ahead. It might be interesting to see the results the next time I visit the Master Jewelcrafter, but I prefer to just stay out of it. Now that I'm clear of the city, I'm going to stay clear of it for as long as possible."

"I care little for who knows I killed and it ill serves me for anyone to know I kill. I like it when they think I am the Grim yet happy Blood Elf. I was saying I wish you wouldn't take on the troubles of others, but if you are determined then by all means revel in your savagery. You do know I cut her in half, then cut her head off and removed the top part of her skull? I am sure the next time you are at Salon they will wonder how you got to be so fierce," Redcap's grin seemed to be self-deprecating.

At first, the graphic description made Qabian pale. His imagination could be overly vivid at times, but when he managed to regain an inward calm, the smile the mage returned was somehow more genuine. "I did not know that actually. All I heard was 'viciously mutilated'. You probably should take credit for your artwork. I'm sure your mother will protect you." Qabian laughed. "Yes, all that gore is hardly my style, is it? Strange how people so easily believe what they want to hear, even when it's ludicrous. But the title I earned means little to me now. I don't care to get it back. I shall simply have to pour a few more decades of effort into earning a new one. In the meantime, I can certainly live with the false claims of my viciousness. It will certainly make my choice of allegiance seem more appropriate."

((Here it becomes open to any with access to the Grim hall who might be passing through. Redcap doesn't believe Q's dagger is "a bad thing" so he wants to ask someone about it.))

[Anaie]

Anaie's ears caught the words "scouge blade" over her hearthstone.

"Redcap, I wish to see dis blade immediately." she spoke. "Meet me in da city of portals, I 'ave no desire to touch such a ting in Azeroth..."

"Aye Cap'n, I can be there very soon." came the young rogues reply.

Anaie stood in the street near the Scryer Bank waiting anxiously to see this so-called scourge weapon. Anything of scourge heritage was of interest to her, as any item or tome could provide much needed information about her condition. She had poured over tomes given to her by Cwen, and personally searched the Scarlet Library for any information.

"Bal'a dash, Cap'n" came Redcaps greeting as he approached Anaie on the street.

Anaie nodded at the young rogue, she felt an odd sensation as he drew near.

Perhaps dis ain't a good idea... she thought to herself as Redcap unwrapped a cloth bundle, revealing an obsidian blade.

"It is of scourge make, and taken from a human that attacked Qabian." the elf said as he extended the daggers pommel toward Anaie.

Anaie took the weapon from his hand and brought the blade close to examine it. It was extremely sharp and of amazing quality. As she held the blade in her hands, a flash of the past went through her mind.

She saw herself standing, alive, in front of the Lich, Kel'Thuzad, kneeling before him. She saw him speak to her, but could not hear the words... and then she saw a dagger extremely similar to the one she now held in her hands being presented to her as she rose. She saw herself draw the blade across her palm, drawing blood and letting it drip to the floor below at the foot of the Lich.

"You have done well elf.." all traces of her accent replaced by a very sinister, and strange voice rumbling deep within. "We are reunited once again..."

Anaie blinked for a moment as she felt a tingling in her hand. Looking down, she realized she had cut herself just as in the dream and her hand was extended allowing the blood to spill to the street.

"What 'ave ya done?!" she yelled to Redcap, as she flung the dagger to the side, sending it clattering into the street. "I was safe 'ere!" she screamed as she bolted off into the crowded streets of the City of Portals.

[Redcap]

Redcap looks at Anaie running off and sighs. "I'll tell ye what the curse on this dagger be, it be the curse o'me pickin it up when people drops it or leaves it somewhere."

Redcap shivers and laughs. He spins the dagger from hand to hand watching the sun play on the blade.

"Maybe someone else will want to throw it down?"

Redcap walks through the portal city looking for someone who might want to see the dagger.

[Qabian]

Qabian and Redcap's argument about the mysterious Scourge dagger had taken a rather public turn when the rogue put out a call for information to the guild.

Qabian's insistence that everyone who had touched the dagger had been forced to endure incredible pain was dismissed again while Redcap noted that the human girl had escaped practically unscathed.

"What are you talking about? I killed her myself," Qabian snapped into the stone.

"One of Vilmah's crew brought her back. Let her get away," Redcap explained, accent dropping as he spoke with his fellow elf. "Syreena saw it."

"What?!" Qabian was fuming. That girl had tried to kill him, not once, but twice! And someone had had the audacity to heal her and set her on her way? He could see the mass of inconveniences gathering on the horizon as he would need to hunt the girl down and kill her repeatedly in the future. Although, she had turned out to be the usual incompetent oaf at the moments of truth. Still, she had too much skill and too much venom to just be allowed to walk around. She had been able to maintain enough stealth in Silvermoon to reach his own quarters. That was no small feat. "Do you happen to know their name?" Qabian's voice was unsteady with rage.

"Umm, think it was Zethrin. A Blood Knight. I defeated him twice. You know I don't like it when people bother you, brother."

Qabian didn't dignify that with a response, but headed straight for his new apartment in the depths of the Undercity. Anaie and Redcap continued speaking of the dagger and agreed to meet each other. Qabian viciously tore a fresh sheet of paper from his neat stack and began scratching across it furiously. It took only a few short moments to write what he had to say.

It was not Redcap's place to undo the injury this time. This was serious. There was a threat to Qabian's life, and more importantly to his work, at large in Azeroth because of this impudent member of some guild called... Sanctuary? He'd heard them mentioned within the Grim with distaste before, as they had been today, but he had not previously bothered to take note. Qabian had assumed they were simply one of Thrall's peace-related organizations and thought none of it, as they had never stood in his way before. But now...

Storming off into the city, he caught the goblin from the message service just picking up the mail. He thrust the freshly written, loosely addressed letter at the creature, and snarled, "Zethrin of Sanctuary. Now."

((Make more sense now?))

[Ninorra]

She looked angry.

Ninorra had red eyes, something that many Sin'dorei considered a bad sign, considering that green eyes were symbolic of their new power source. How in the world could one survive, with red eyes?

Walking through the Undercity, she held her head high. Helnia, her succubus, trailed gaily behind her mistress. There were splotches of black on Ninorra's robes, and her hair was somewhat less tame than she would have preffered. She still held an angry spark in her palm, which could have easilly ignited one of the dry-boned undead who glanced in her direction.

She would have returned home now, if not for the blood elf she saw thrusting a letter into a goblin's hand. If memory served correctly..

"..I suppose they discovered your innocence?" She asked Qabian.

[Qabian]

Still practically shaking with rage, Qabian whipped around at the interruption. "What?"

The appearance of the woman who'd insisted on his innocence to his escort out of Silvermoon was a surprise and put him off his guard. He hadn't taken much notice of her odd eyes during their earlier encounter, being more surprised by her insistent interference, but at that particular moment when he was feeling so very ready to kill someone, their dark red strangeness touched a sensitive nerve, and the corner of his lip pulled upward in an expression of disgust.

He eyed her up and down. She appeared to have recently come from some activity or other without time to tidy herself. He glanced at the succubus behind her. 'Oh, one of those,' he thought to himself.

He adjusted the front of his robes and looked off to the side, purposely avoiding eye contact. "Hardly," he grumbled. "Although I've since discovered it for myself. The Magisters and the Court are too caught up in their own games to care about something as meaningless as truth."

[Ninorra]

"Mm.." She hummed, noticing his attention to her eyes, and the sudden look of distaste. His expression was rather common, and something she tried continuously not to take offense to.

"You would be surprised just how little they care for the truth, if it does not bring them some sort of profit. Then again.." she noted his expression once more. "I suppose the same can be said of most people. It's only when it inconveniences us that we actually begin to care."

She felt the anger begin to melt away. It would have been far too easy to lose her temper with the rather stuffy-looking noble, and what would be the point in that? There were hundreds of decaying corpses in Silverpine to speak for her vengeance.

"Pardon me, but you seem unnecisarilly irritable for a free man.. why the anger?"

[Qabian]

"That..."

He took a deep breath and looked at her, the strange, dirty, little thing. He considered responding politely, but in the end chose otherwise and scowled again, snarling, "That certainly does not concern you and your incessant meddling. And if for some reason you were involved, I'd--"

He put his hand to the side of his head, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. If she'd been anything but Sin'dorei, he wouldn't have held back his wrath, but whether it was a recognition of a sense of her own anger when she'd approached him or some idealistic hope for the understanding of a likely outcast, he swallowed his words.

He managed to force himself into a feeble display of composure and explain more calmly, "Someone's unforgivable love of disgusting vermin has left me in a very awkward position is all. Hardly a new situation, I suppose. I'm merely rather upset that I will have to be far more careful about my steps than I had previously acknowledged."

[Ninorra]

"Caution is a valid reason for concern," she replied casually.

He was almost shaking with anger. What an interesting man, to be so upset by something that he could hardly contain it. Ninorra was fairly certain that he would harm her physically, were they not in a controlled area. This alone was reason enough to be curious.

Besides that, he was a welcome distraction.

"You're rather tense, you know. It does your health no good. I might suggest learning to relax a bit. As an obviously well-bred Sin'dorei, you can't be ignorant of the fact that our emotions cause all sorts of physical effects; be they beneficial or otherwise. I'd say that at the moment, your state is.. less than healthy."

She smiled slightly.

"Of course, this is just an outsider's opinion. You needn't listen to me, but if you should decide that it's time to be rational about your situation, I might just be able to help you."

[Qabian]

Qabian laughed a loud, grating laugh that didn't sound particularly sane. He couldn't figure out if this strange woman was playing just another Sin'dorei game or what, but her lack of fear combined with her refusal to do what was best for her and stay out of his way were very curious qualities.

"Rational? I'm extremely rational. I know exactly what I need to appease my 'state', as you call it. Unfortunately, I don't have access to it right now, but I will someday. In the meantime, I was considering doing the best I could about this situation by heading to Arathi and obliterating entire fields full of peasants. I don't suppose that was what you were going to suggest in terms of relaxation or help, now, was it?"

[Ninorra]

"Actually..."

She took a deep breath, rubbing fingers against her palm to soothe the flames that wanted to leap from them. Helnia looked up and down Qabian's body, taking note of her carnal wants as her mistress focused on something else entirely.

Ninorra smiled again, her red eyes flashing.

"..it was."

[Qabian]

Qabian blinked, stunned again. He had been shocked a few too many times recently for his own liking, although, in truth, his life had never been particularly calm.

"What? Why exactly would I need your help for that?"

He stared back at the succubus, considering whether any of the Undercity guardians would mind if he just melted the demon right there. Finding the demonic useful only as receptacles for power to be abandoned the moment they were no longer of immediate use, Qabian felt the thing's gaze and insistent expressions of vulgarity to be highly disturbing.

[Ninorra]

"Because I am more than just a warlock," she said calmly, running a hand over her long curled black hair. Ninorra glanced at Helnia, who was licking her lips in anticipation of what she considered might have been a very fun blood bath. Snapping her fingers at the succubus, she commanded it wordlessly to stop gazing at Qabian.

She returned her gaze to the mage.

"There are many things that I don't like to see. One in particular is the lack of justice in this world. You may not need my help to kill, but I can't see your killing ammounting to much. What I think may help is something to soothe you as you kill.."

Ninorra could feel the tingling in her throat; the excitement that it held whenever she readied herself to sing. His reaction might turn, when she stated her profession. It was so common.. however, there was nothing common about Ninorra's voice. Even when she spoke, there was something eerilly melodic about it.

"..and I just happen to be a musician."

[Redcap]

*A slight tapping comes over Qabian's hearthstone*

in a small voice "Brother, have you found another for me to speak with?"

Redcap hoped the Magus could hear him, Qabian sounded distraught.

Redcap thought "I need to get me a magical device to get me to him sooner, he attracts trouble like a pile of gold attracts dwarves"

Redcap concentrated on the differences that made him a shadowwalker before speaking over his hearthstone again.

"Hey any of ya know how I can find our Guildmates, do I need something other than our stone?"

"Oh yeah, Ahoy shadowwalkers!"

Redcap shook his hearthstone and murmered "Damn communication device"

[Qabian]

Locked in a battle of glares with the succubus, it was only the warlock commanding her demon to look away that brought back Qabian's attention to the woman in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow at Ninorra's idea of help. Art was... mostly out of his realm of experience. For himself, it was completely frivolous. The most frivolity he engaged in since extricating himself from most social circles was occasionally writing down pointless musing or seeking out new equipment at auction when he didn't really need more. But he was capable of acknowledging a social place for art. It was simply something for others to engage in. The longer he spoke to Ninorra the more confusing she seemed to him, but the fact that she couldn't see killing amounting to much when killing was all that mattered to him skewed his perception.

"That's... good?" he said uncertainly. "But I somehow doubt that a mage in a field of flaming corpses is exactly the best audience for your art. I know I for one would be unlikely to be paying complete attention."

Qabian couldn't decide if the interrupting voice from his usually silent hearthstone was convenient or annoying. Qabian was still insistent that keeping the blade was asking for trouble. Perhaps he was finding it a little too easy to blame any and all painful experiences on it these days. Still, he was absolutely certain things would be better once Redcap appeased his curiosity and finally got rid of the damned thing.

Qabian rolled his eyes a little and stifled the communication device. He offered Ninorra a half smile, wondering whether she would continue her strange game despite the interruption.

[Ninorra]

Ninorra chuckled. He obviously didn't understand.

"Perhaps a demonstration.."

She looked around the Undercity. Nearby, there was a sad looking undead woman. She had very plain daggars at her sides, and looked reluctantly towards the large heavily muscled tauren nearby. Using her eyes to guide Qabain's towards the Forsaken rogue, Ninorra returned his half smile and opened her mouth.

The sound that issued from Ninorra's throat might have been interpreted differently by anyone who listened. Wether it could be described as beautiful or hideous all depended on who was listening.. but the Forsaken rogue's expression seemed to change entirely. She went from being timid and sickly, to having her face contort into a light smile. The tauren nearby saw this and raised a curious eyebrow. In the background, Ninorra kept her note.. to which the tauren responded by chuckling at the Forsaken and taking her small bony hand into his.

They kissed.

Ninorra ended her one note song, and licked her bottom lip. The Forsaken and the tauren still looked at eachother with affection, but allowed their hands to leave the other's grasp and went on about their business a little more cheerfully than before.

"..it isn't mind control. All it is, is finding that one note that someone needs to hear, and releasing it. You are very angry, and there is little the world can do to sooth your anger. I was disturbed by the way the guards treated you, because they treated me exactly the same when my master was murdured.

"I am a stranger to you, but I would like to help you if I may."

[Qabian]

At first Qabian watched the display with a certain morbid curiosity, but the kiss was too much for him. His overactive imagination made him look away, his face visibly pale. Beyond the disgust he felt regarding the physicality of the event, he suddenly realized the songstress could be very dangerous.

"The guards treated me the way I maneuvered them to treat me, but not with this -- this --" He motioned weakly to the departing forms that had been affected by her song. "I am angry, yes, but I am capable of using that anger to further my causes. I don't believe this -- whatever that was -- your help -- is something I really need."

He took a step back from her, glancing around, hoping for another convenient distraction.

[Ninorra]

Ninorra chuckled at his discomfort. He was rather finnicky, so she thought it best to leave him to his own devices.

"Very well. Allow me instead to offer my gratitude, for the death of Lady Jastra Sunbound. Although you did not kill her, I am sure that.. like myself with my master, you were responsible for her death. For that, I am grateful."

She remembered the rumors that Jastra had spread about Ninorra and her husband, how she created scandal after scandal for nothing more than her own amusement. How glad she was now, that the girl was dead, lest she discover something even more personal.

"..some people just don't know when to keep their mouth shut. Don't you agree.."

Ninorra smiled.

"Qabian?"

[Qabian]

Qabian stared at her through narrowed eyes. She knew his name, must have heard it in relation to his trial. He searched his memory for hers. Gitana, was it, that the guard had called her? That name meant nothing to him, but he seemed to recall feeling that he should have known her name when he had heard it. At this juncture with his mind in disarray from all the strange news he'd received and strange events he'd witnessed, he couldn't recall, but if he did learn it again, he would not be so quick to forget. She was too strange to forget easily.

Master? That was a strange term to use, but most things she had said, other than the expressed appreciation for Jastra's death, which he could unfortunately understand, were strange. Too many murders to sift through, too much intrigue, exactly what he was trying to escape, but one such incident connected with red eyes? He couldn't remember.

Such interference around every corner. Between Redcap and his dagger and this strange woman, he was beginning to doubt he would get the chance to hunt down the Blood Knight who'd done him injury.

He nodded slowly. "Silence," he paused to emphasize the word, "is often the best course."

[Vilmah]

((Delete please.))

[Ninorra]

Ninorra smiled and gave Qabian a low bow. It might have been lower than he was accustomed to, considering that she was taught to bow while still a slave. Her eyes, however, remained locked on to his. She looked at him without fear, but there was obvious mirth in them.

"..good day, then."

Helnia blew a kiss to the mage as her mistress turned her heel to leave. There was a distinct limp in the way she walked.

[Qabian]

Qabian watched her and made a mental note to ask his mother about a past incident with a red-eyed girl. As much as his mother was no longer a part of society since the war, she was an absorber of gossip if not a sharer of it. Perhaps she could inform him.

The mage shuddered at the demon's seductive parting gesture.

Once convinced the pair were out of earshot, Qabian took out his stone. "Redcap? Did Anaie not tell you enough to encourage you to get rid of that thing? She seemed so interested that I thought for sure she would appease you."

[Redcap]

** floated from his pouch "Redcap? Did Anaie not tell you enough to encourage you to get rid of that thing? She seemed so interested that I thought for sure she would appease you." **

"By the Sunwell, do I have to put this thing somewhere else, it won't talk when I want it to and it makes noise when I am hunting"

**a small short shriek and the sounds of steel hitting flesh**'

Redcap pulls his hearthstone from his pouch. "Ahoy de..... I mean greetings Brother, how are you this fine day?.... um Over"

Redcap waits for an eternity of 4 to 5 seconds and says "Anaie cut her hand on the dagger, did some of that Forsaken weird voice thing, threw the dagger on the ground, and now I am walking around looking for someone to give this to or maybe "GIVE" this to."

An long while passes with silence, after both of these seconds have passed "Umm maybe I shouldn't drink the rum Syreena bought me and that's a Redcap Out, over, Roger?"


**giggles** "Did you hear me, I said "GIVE" my dagger to, I think I need to find a girlfriend"


**Whistling and singing** "What will you do with a drunken Redcap, Oh what will you do with a Drunken Redcap, errrly in the Mornin!"

"Oi Lass, yeah you in the Pretty robes, want to duel?"

[Qabian]

Qabian looked down, holding tightly to the bridge of his nose as he listened to the rambling, an expression of exasperation, but he smiled as well, even as he opened his mouth to respond only to be cut off each time.

The mage couldn't lose the constant expectation that Redcap would suddenly start screaming himself, just by virtue of having the dagger in his possession, perhaps from falling into a kodo trap, or being abducted by enemy trolls and forced into unthinkable acts, but all that followed was jaunty singing.

Qabian finally spoke over Redcap's apparently drunken babble, not particularly bothered that he might be ignored. "Don't you think if it hurt your captain and she threw it away that maybe I'm right about it? But yes, if you're not going to ask someone else about it, I suggest you give it away without the innuendo, and keep it out of the Grim."

Qabian pocketed the stone again and moved down the ramp to his Undercity bank. Time to get some supplies and head out after those peasants after all.

[Redcap]

"Hey there, hey you pretty lady!"

"I want to make a deposit. Shhhh honeybear, that mechanical thing is gonna come tromping through any second"

**Redcap hears "Don't you think if it hurt your captain and she threw it away that maybe I'm right about it? But yes, if you're not going to ask someone else about it, I suggest you give it away without the innuendo, and keep it out of the Grim." **

"Anaie sent me a letter asking me to keep it for a bit, she thanked me for finding it for her..... haaaaaaaaaaa QABIAN, the room is spinning!"

Redcap begins muttering "Kick me out of the house will she?"

"Hey Qabian, we going hunting?"

[Qabian]

Qabian rolled his eyes. He stuffed a fresh roll of bandages in his pouch, then went to find his hawkstrider where he'd left her in the courtyard. Riding afforded more chances than flight for the slaughter of innocent bystanders. He grumbled to himself as he walked. What was that Forsaken rogue woman thinking? Just keep the dagger? In the hands of a loopy drunk, no less? Whatever. Qabian was just glad it wasn't in his own hands.

"Yes, Redcap. I am going hunting. You, on the other hand, are probably not going to be much more than Alliance bait if you keep at Syreena's rum."

[Redcap]

"Qabian, wait for me."

Redcap whistled for Shadow and with a smell of fire and feathers his mount appeared.

"To the portal room, we have vermin to kill!"

Redcap rode to the portal and with a flash appeared in the Undercity.

"Faster shadow Faster, the Mage is probably still gathering his ... things, you know their sticks and pointy things. "

"Move Scum, " Redcap shouts to the people in his way. "A Grim rides through!"


Redcap passes a pretty lass and a red rose floats from his hand into hers, with a pressure of his knees the massive Warbird ceases its running.

Redcap knew the Mage would be another few moments, heck not everyone packed lite.

Redcap shifted in his saddle with his movements every weapon in his arsenal was counted for. He does a flip off of the bird and lands in a bow.

"Ahoy there lass, what's a pretty one like you doing here unescorted?"

[Ninorra]

((*steals opportunity*))

Ninorra looked at the rose with wide eyes, her expression one of shock.

"..well, I was just about to go and put an end to more Daleran mages."

[Qabian]

Qabian sighed and paused where he was, mounted up at the gates of Lordaeron. He didn't really want to wait. Aside from concerted efforts for particular tasks or engaging armies with armies, the mage spent most of his time ransacking Alliance property alone. Outside of a constructive team environment, he found partners to be liabilities. Although, a rogue who knew the shadows well enough should be able to look after himself, provided he was sober enough to see straight.

Redcap seemed to have this tendency to adopt members of the Grim and become protective of them without their request or permission. Qabian couldn't deny the rogue had skill, tenacity, and had done his mage "brother" some definite favors, but Redcap's incessant cheerfulness frequently grated on Qabian's considerably more serious nerves. The rogue's irrepressible boyishness certainly held a respectable level of malice within, but the good friends Qabian had had, all of whom he'd lost, were never the type who hid their ambitions, certainly never behind such ridiculous tomfoolery. As far as Qabian was concerned, the life of "fun" was something to be left in the past. The present and the future were for vengeance and bloodthirst, perhaps a little questioning and discovery, the creation of a manifest peace by forcibly destroying all enemies, and not much else.

Qabian watched over his shoulder expectantly. His hawkstrider became restless and began to scratch at its tail feathers with its beak, a habit which Qabian found highly irritating. He kicked the bird to make it stop and it took a few steps forward before he reined it in again. 'Stupid thing,' he muttered. Someday he'd be able to afford a mount with some brains in its head.

Finally, his patience ran out. Granted, patience was not something he had much of these days. He was growing rash and impulsive in ways his decades of training would not have allowed had certain circumstances been otherwise. "I don't know what you're doing, but if you insist on following me around today, you can catch up. I'll be taking the road through Southshore." Qabian urged his mount forward again, and took off from the city at a brisk pace.

[Redcap]

((*steals opportunity*))

Ninorra looked at the rose with wide eyes, her expression one of shock.

"..well, I was just about to go and put an end to more Daleran mages."

"Doral ana'diel? What brings one of the Sin'dorei to the Undercity?"

"If you would like I could ask Blood Mage Qabian if you could accompany us"

[Ninorra]

"I came here to discuss training with a Warlock trainer, actually. The Undercity is notorious for providing training for people in my profession.

Ninorra chuckled and shook her head at his proposal. "I thank you, but I do not think that Qabian would enjoy that very much at all. Perhaps some other time, though."

She gave him a low bow.

"Have a good fight, rogue."

[Chaindog]

A sniffing sound is heard behind Redcap. "Where she be Redcap? Me can smell er on you." The stern face of Chaindog looks down upon Redcap.

[Redcap]

"You speak of Cwen, the one I asked everyone about during the guild meeting and no one wanted to say anything? Is that who you are asking about? The one who captured my heart and makes me drink like a common drunk when she isn't around, is that who you speak of? Cwen, the only reason I am not killing female Blood Elves for merely living? Is that who you are asking about? "



((I hope that's who you are talking about :cool: ))

[Chaindog]

Contempt appears across her face. "Me care not who you current girl toy be. Me was smelling of Anaie on you." The contempt spreads to a grin, "Be you her new boytoy?"

(( If you want Cwen, I can add her to the story, I was debating it, but it may be a story in and of itself.))

[Redcap]

((You know right after i hit post reply I figured you were talking about anaie :) ))

"Err yes, well of course you meant Anaie, i must still be drunk or maybe I hit my head dismounting." Redcap says with a blush.

"Why would I ask about Cwen? boytoy, whats that? who is that? Not me, no siree." **whistles**

"Anaie, well yes I saw her during our meeting and then afterwards we meet in the portal city and I gave her this dagger, " Redcap twirls a obsidian blade in his hand. "she cut her hand and then spoke is some overly creepy forsaken voice, thanked me, threw the dagger on the ground and vanished. She is a shadowwalker, she does stranger things than that when she gets a sandwhich at Grimhall."

[Chaindog]

Chaindog blinks, notices Redcap blush, then a sharp laugh. "Ha! You do be wanting her." Chaindog says with a grin. She pokes Redcap in the chest with a finger and says, "So you be wanting to find a table to bend Cwen over huh?" She says with a chuckle.

Chaindog sighs, the joke over with, she looks a little more serious and says, "Anaie not being so good lately. She been acting weird, especially in da old world here in Azeroth. Me notice sometimes she not be da same."

"eh, mayhap you should be looking at taking dat dagger to someone who knows more." A sly smirk spreads across her face, "May be yous girl toy will know more. All me know is she been doing work for Anaie. Me not know what she been doing, but me been trying question her for promotion out da Minion rank but me not be finding her."

(( bringing in Cwen now, and no I'm not creating a new account ))

[Chaindog]

(( this is sort an ongoing story with Anaie and now Redcap. Sorry for hijacking, feel free to join in Qabian et al ))

A dry hot breeze blows in small gusts across the small patch of caked lava. A large diagram lays forever embossed or enchanted into the dried lava. The heat has thoroughly soaked her. She swears even her bones are warm. Yet still, she hugs herself standing in the midst of the heat. She shivers as if she is freezing. Her eyes are down cast while she contemplates her choice. Still to this point in time she wonders if this is the right choice.

A short gust of wind is heard behind her. It’s the gust of a horse’s breath through its nostrils. Her back snaps rigid. He’s here. She turns slowly to face him. The wind now blows her hair across her face while she holds herself tight. She looks through the strands seeing the mount he rides. She forces herself to raise her eyes to meet his. For what is only a brief second and yet feels like an eternity their eyes meet. His eyes like any undead merely stare back at her devoid of emotion. To her however, it’s like he’s pulling the very essence of her soul to him. She breaks contact with him by looking to the side and down, at nothing really. She visibly shivers again. Feeling awkward in his presence she becomes formal and curtsies. She doesn’t care whether he likes it or not, she’ll not change her ways now. Not now after what she’s asked him to do.

He dismounts, takes all of two steps forward and thrusts his hand outward towards her. Time slows for her. A purplish ray, almost like a winding snake slithers its way out from his hand. She watches as it slowly approaches her. She remembers then her letter to him; so explicit, so precise in its instructions.


Dread Magus Lupen Vakov
I seek from you a boon. My recent research into the Scarlet Crusade, the Argent Dawn and The Brotherhood of Light has become suddenly… known. I cannot stop what I have started as I will not fail in my task. I cannot allow myself to fail. Yet, I fear for my soul.
You may be thinking why I would choose you of all warlocks. Other warlocks have ego, some have morals, some torturous ways, and yet they only think they are evil. They know not what they speak of. Only when I look upon you, do I not just see evil, I feel it, to the depths of my soul. Why would I trust one such as you, you ask. A simple answer, a truthful answer, is that better to have you than any other.
Ironic is not it, that a simple title of ‘Dread’ was the key word in my research. You see, the word ‘dread’ when I heard your name spoken to me was what set me upon this path. With feverish frenzy I did search for what it meant. Thus I ask you to save my soul.
I trust not myself in person. To look upon you is cause enough to flee and I cannot do that. I will muster what strength I have to do only that. I have prepared all that is needed for what I must do. Speak no words to me.
Should you agree to this, I ask that you protect it and shelter it. I have remained innocent in this life and free of the sins of this world. While I am naïve in most of this world, I am not stupid and I value my innocence above all else. I cannot promise that where I will go I will be able to protect it thus all I need of you now is to hold my soul.

Simply,
Cwen


The wisps of the purplish ray play their tricks on her mind. Like a wispy hand, it reaches into her chest and the chill becomes real. A convulsion causes her to lurch forward into darkness.

A short while later her eyes slowly open. Everything is blurry. She blinks a little to clear them and peers around. Looking at her hand she notices she is in her shadowform. Not feeling very well she tries to revert to her more normal form to see if she can cure herself. Failure. Even that has changed. She has become nothing more than a shade of her former self.

Digging into her pouch she pulls out her hearthstone and says in a wispy voice, “Anaie? Redcap?”
(( note you’ll need to use a specific item to see Cwen now *winks at Anaie* ))
Edit: ((silly cut and paste just killed all the nice pretty formatting ))

[Redcap]

Me not know what she been doing, but me been trying question her for promotion out da Minion rank but me not be finding her.

((must be hard as heck to test yourself for rank ))

[Redcap]

The voice of a angel was ringing in his ears Redcap looks around for Cwen.

"Cwen. where are you, where have you been?"

Redcap pulls out a silver ring, it is an exact copy of a ring he had made for Cwen, her ring was enchanted to increase her powers of healing, his was to warn him if she was ever in trouble and call him to her side.


"Magic, who knows what it does, I bet the creator of these rings was pulling my leg."


"CWEN!"

[Chaindog]

(( this Cwen, my alt ))

Her voice is softer than usual. "I've been doing some research for Anaie. It's a long story really. Perhaps saved for a pleasant evening at a decent tavern." She pushes herself to her feet.

[Redcap]

"Your wishes my lady, are my commands. Think on the ring and it should lead me to you, or it better or i'll have a Mage's guts for guitar strings."

[Chaindog]

(( Cwen, my alt ))

"What ring?" A pause, "Wait, did you just say it would lead you to me? That's very sweet of you to be concerned for my well being."

[Anaie]

((so I need my extra dimensional ghost revealer to see you now eh?))

[Chaindog]

(( It's your nightmare Anaie. :p ))

[Redcap]

Redcap concentrates on his hearthstone hoping no on else in Grim can hear him.


"You are the only female of our people to treat me as anything other than a bother at best or something to beat at worst. Of course I am concerned with your well being I thought all the times when we were in battle that I would come back to make sure you were ok would be a clue that i was more than interested in you."

[Chaindog]

(( Cwen, my alt ))

Utter Stunned Silence.

Almost a minute goes by before she speaks. "I, I don't know what to say. I'm just a librarian. Why would you have feelings for someone like me?"

[Redcap]

"Because you are smart, beautiful and you are the only Sin'dorei of your gender who has brought a cessation to my pain as opposed to bringing me more"

Redcap starts to step into the shadows. "I know the Captn be around here, I need someone teasing me about Cwen like I need one less sword" Redcap thinks as he fades into invisiiblity.

[Chaindog]

She says in a small voice, "Thank you, but I am not beautiul. Certainly not now."

[Redcap]

"Your beauty isn't just in your looks, its in your soul as well, the way you are always there with a kind word and a helping hand, the way you keep us on our feet when our enemies attack us.


The way you seem to ignore it when Taintedone, Durfang, and the others tease me about you when you are nearby.

Your beauty is in the heat of battle when your sweet songs cools the tempers of the group.

Your beauty is entwined in my blades when you healed me as my life poured out into them to bring them into existence.

Surely you jest when you say you are not beautiful?"

Redcap concentrates on a broadcast known only to the Shadowwalkers in Grim.

"Shadowwalkers, can one of you explain females to me?"

[Chaindog]

In an almost wailing voice, "I don't have that anymore."

[Anaie]

Anaie finally digs out her stone and replies, "Aye Cwen... ya were seekin me out? Ya sound disturbed... If my task fer ya is gettin too difficult..."

As Anaie spoke she heard Redcap's call for aid about females come through the private setting her sister had established and sighed.

Continuing on with her prior sentance, "... *ahem* if you wish to meet, I would suggest ya find yer way to da city of portals. Dere 'as been an unforseen development in regards to my past...and I know dat Redcap stalks you nearly constantly. If 'e is near and we be in da old world, I will not come to ya."

[Qabian]

((Don't worry 'bout me. I'm done unless I get pulled in again. :) Q's happy mindlessly blowing stuff up in Arathi until the cows come home.))

[Chaindog]

(( Cwen, my alt ))

"Anaie!" she says with almost a shriek in voice. "I've never been to this city of portals you speak of."

"One my leads in my research has lead me to Strathome. There is a demon I need to talk to there." she says.

[Anaie]

"I will come ta ya in da old world den... but only if ya keep Redcap away. Da daggah 'e 'olds... it must be destroyed or at least handed ovah to da Dawn. We will meet at Hammahfall, an' while dere perhaps try to find dat mage friend of 'is as well. I want more infermation from 'im."

[Chaindog]

(( Cwen, my alt ))

"I can do that Anaie. I can meet you there. I don't want Redcap to see me like this anyway." Cwen says with a sorrowful voice.

"When you mean that mage friend of his, who are you talking about? I'll ask Redcap."

Switching to Redcap. "What dagger is Anaie talking about that you have and what does it have to with some mage friend of yours?"

[Redcap]

"Ahh it's some sorta dagger that Qabian found on this little piece of trash. It's got a nice spin to it.

Qabian is probably who she is speaking of.

What can I do to make you happier miss?"

[Chaindog]

(( Cwen, my alt))

"Are there any markings on it? Any symbols or names written upon it?"

[Redcap]

((I spoke with Qabian and he feels I shouldn't describe the dagger too much since Anaie has adopted it into her story. ))

[Qabian]

((I spoke with Qabian and he feels I shouldn't describe the dagger too much since Anaie has adopted it into her story. ))

((Actually, Anaie has said the dagger is very simple. It's black, that's all. You can tell her that.))

[Redcap]

It's black, very plain with a nice balance.

[Chaindog]

(( cwen, my alt ))

"ah, then it's no good to me." Silence...

[Anaie]

"Cwen..." Anaie whispered into her hearthstone. "I 'ave more infermation on dat blade. Anotha memory while I rested last eve. You must find someone dat cannot be plagued to get it from Redcap's 'ands. One of yer blood knights perhaps... dey should be immune to plague as their light-sworn Alliance counterparts. Do not let him cause any wounds wit dat blade... dat is when its powah releases... and if Qabian was wounded by it, I would monitor 'is 'ealth. I will tell you more when we meet this eve in Hammerfall. Ensure the blade goes to someone we trust, I may 'ave a need for it in the future..."

Anaie looked at the infected wound on her hand from where she cut herself with the blade and winced. The wound seemed to invigorate her body, infusing it with a power that she had not felt since the days when she served as one of Kel'Thuzad's assassins, and the short months after she was freed from his control. She was remembering more and more of her past in the past months as she remained in the Outlands, free of his attempts to gain control of her mind again. But with those memories came an exhaustion and weakness that she never felt before. Anaie placed her wounded hand across her belly, not to mention the return of some of her more human bodily traits.

"What da 'ell is wrong with ya... " she muttered to herself.

((Red, if you dont have a pally to use, you can use my alt, Kiaransalius, no problem there.))

[Chaindog]

(( I have a pally alt and so does Redcap... Pally chips ahoy."))

(( Cwen, my alt ))

"A blood knight? One of those arrogant meanies?" Whispers Cwen. "Why would I trust one of them?"

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't just get it myself?"

She then speaks to Redcap, "Meet me in Hammerfall. Bring the blade, hide it on your person so Anaie doesn't see it."

[Anaie]

Anaie sighed, something was different about Cwen... she was not her usual self it seemed. Lifting her stone to her lips, Anaie whispered very softly so noone else would hear, "That blade is called "Plaguebringer" and unless you elves are immune to horrid wasting diseases, I would suggest you find one dat is. It is da daggah I used ta use to kill fer Kel'Thuzad.... Considerin' da dangers we be takin' meetin' in Azeroth, I will be comin' unarmed... and I suggest ya be willin' ta run if tings go poorly."

Anaie lowered her stone and thought who she could bring with her to the meeting, just in case... Grogkor couldn't do what needed to be done, and she swore to him that she wouldn't utilize Lupens services anymore...

"Chaindog... I require yer services dis eve in Hammerfall... please come wit da utmost secrecy." Anaie spoke into the stone. Chaindog had as much to lose if Anaie was lost again as Anaie did.

[Chaindog]

(( Cwen, my alt ))

With annoyance in her voice she says blindly into her heartstone, "Just show up damn it!"

(( Chaindog ))

"Yous gonna be on da old world? If you sure, me will be dere. Me gonna come ready for you more, unflavourable side. You gonna bring yous boytoy?"

Chaindog heads away from the vendors on the upper ring in Undercity and to the bank where she digs out a set of really powerful and expensive arrows.

A young orc peers at her from his vault area and she's "Hah, stoopid troll, you wasted your money dumbass!"

Chaindog kicks out her right foot and it connects with the side of the orc's knee. Sounds of poping of the joint, ripping of the tendons is heard as the knee is caved to the other side ways. The orc's mouth gaps in a soundless scream. Chaindog then throws a right handed two knuckle punch in the side of the jaw. The jaw pops, dislocates and a bottom tusk smashes in to top tuck and chips the tusk.

She then grabs his shirt and flips him over herself onto his back. The weight of the orc cause his shirt to rip. She then raises her foot and thrusts it downward and she stomps him in the head several time causing him to jerk and spasm. With his face pulped and bloody she finally stops.

Not caring what anyone else thinks, she yells at his unconcious form dying on the floor. "Me GRIM! Know yous place maggot!"

Then in an about-face, she says to Anaie, "Me be dere Anaie, yous not see me, but me will be dere. Me know just da spot."

She then walkss up to the flight master and catches a flight to Hammerfall.

[Anaie]

Anaie stood before the portal to Undercity and checked the power level on her teleporter one final time. If things went bad, this device could save lives... including her own. She did not like being unarmored and unarmed, but it was the safest way to be in Azeroth. For a moment she considered filing down her claws but smirked as she imagined Grogkor's reaction if she returned from this meeting.

Anaie sighed softly as she thought of her lover. She had a note left in the spot they often shared in Shattrath in case she did not return, explaining the circumstances and that he was not to take any action against those involved. She was doing this on her own, it was not anyone else's fault, especially Chaindog's if she were to have to put an arrow through her heart.

" 'opefully dat ain't necessary" Anaie mused to herself quietly. Chiandog is plenty skilled to achieve what was discussed in private. Sighing once more she stepped through the portal, and made haste to Hammerfall.

[Anaie]

((waiting on Redcap to confirm he will show up at the meeting with the blade))

[Redcap]

Redcap wandered along somewhere, it didn't really matter.

He sauntered along smiling and twirling the obsidian blade. He would often pause and hurl it into a freestanding piece of wood, every city had them.

Grinning he would try and race the dagger to the landing, the dagger always beat him thonking into the wood with a sharp retort.

Seeing a picture of a advertisement for some goblin hair growing creme he pulls back his arm and throws the dagger with all his might.

The dagger tumbles end over end as Redcap races to beat the dagger to its latest sheath.

A sickly green glow starts to emanate from the dagger, and Redcap feels a tug on his soul.

The dagger and Redcap both disappear from the busy thoroughfare, no one even notices, people portal out from every inch of the city on most days and seeing the rogues colors caused those who were inquisitive to quickly find something safer to do than wonder where or what one of the Grim had gone to.

Redcap felt the familiar pull of a summoning spell but knew he had to be attuned before the magics would normally work on him so he was at first concerned but like all young males he was more sure of his immortality than his head first plunge into danger.

Redcap hears the dagger bounce off of steel and sees a sight both horrifying and strangely sad.

Before him stands three females, two blood Elves and one Forsaken, behind the forsaken is the largest axe-wielding demon he has ever seen.

Redcap does nothing more than assume a stance anyone familiar with him would recognize.

"Orisa, my sister how nice to see you I see the rumors of our sisters return were not exaggerated."

The slender elven lass smirks in what is surely a genetic trait amongst the Dawnspire clan. "Brother, you do remember Mahakali don't you it seems she has returned from where ever it is she was"

A older elf dressed in plate mail carrying a shield and at her side a flaming sword nods to Redcap. "Well brother you seem to have grown up, thank the Sunwell you are not using your real name, you are still playing with the most dangerous of toys."

Redcap looks between the two sisters the stamp of their heritage apparent on all their faces.

The gloom parts just a little as the Forsaken steps off her dreadsteed.

"What no quip for me, no hug, no kiss for your eldest sister? " says the forsaken pushing back the hood on her cloak.

Redcap blanches and starts to stammer "Ven... Vendaria you died, you .... they said your unit was... "

The warlocks eyes glow like balefire "Silence mortal! ... sorry my brother it is hard to hold ties of family sometimes I remember oh how I remember the red taste of .... another time perhaps. You will give the obsidian dagger to Mahakali, and she will be nice to you. Father is gone and Mother is busy doing whatever it is mother does, that means I am the eldest and my word is law, if either of you shadowwalker or blood knight so much as torments the other over a slice of bread, I will feed you to Haaghun here and lets see how well Orisa can raise you while you are being digested. "

Redcap had already gathered the dagger to his hand after stepping through the portal the action seemed automatically like breathing for the young elf.

Recap's eyes started to glow with a sickly green taint and he pulled back his arm, his other hand brushed across the handle of his Blade and for a brief moment a hammer ringing and the sweet smell of sunshine flooded the area.

Redcap lowered his arm and smiled. "Well it's not the first time i have wanted to give you a dagger, let's hope its the last."

With the glow fading from the shadowwalkers eyes he placed the obsidian blade in the palm of Mahakali.

"So i am off to Hammerfall to await Cwen, you should join me." Redcap says to his sister.

With the traditional Dawnspire grin the Forsaken sends her two younger siblings hurtling through a portal to Hammerfall.

[Qabian]

Having taken out his fury on a rather large number of peasants and appeased his anger about a certain human girl's continued infuriating existence, Qabian rode back to Hammerfall feeling rather refreshed.

The mage dismounted and tied his Hawkstrider to a fence post just inside the gates. He double-checked the bunch of human heads he had attached to his belt that a certain Ms. Callow in the Undercity had so kindly requested. They were a little messier than he liked things to be that he carried so near his person, but it was a short flight back to the city to dispose of them and clean up, and he was rather relishing the threatening feeling he got from carrying them so openly.

Without paying much attention to the other occupants of the base, he jogged up the steps to pay a visit to Doctor Victor, hoping the surgeon might have some more of his particular brand of wisdom to share.

[Anaie]

((put your posts up in Grim forum as well Q, to keep it easier! grrrr))

Anaie stood on the wooden landing deck in Hammerfall, glancing around looking for Cwen. The girl was not immediately visable, but Anaie knew she would be here, if not already. Something in her voice sounded distressed and Anaie assumed she was hiding in a dark corner of the small Inn here at the outpost.

As Anaie walked forward to scan the courtyard one more time before entering the Inn she saw someone that made her smile slightly, Qabian just entered the hut of the local Doctor.

" 'ow nice of 'im to show up fer da meetin'...." Anaie said as she immediately took to the shadows and moved in on the mage. Only making half an effort to remain silent, she walked up to the back of Qabian and whispered softly in his ear, "yer presence is requested at a meetin' we be 'avin bout dat blasted daggah ya were so kind to 'ave found." Grabbing Qabians arm lightly, she materialized into view, and excused them both from the presence of the others. "Come wit me, if ya will."

[Qabian]

((I forgot. :( I'll smack myself repeatedly in the face with my keyboard as punishment.))

The mage stiffened at the voice in his ear. Voices in his ear tended to mean bad things about to happen and were often accompanied by a blade sticking somewhere unpleasant. Hammerfall wasn't exactly the best defended locale, either. But it didn't take him too long to recognize the voice. Still a rogue, but one that he could at least hope didn't want him dead this very minute.

Qabian grinned awkwardly at Doctor Victor while Anaie excused them from the company of the somewhat surprised looking physician.

Qabian followed the pull on his arm, but looked confused as they went down the steps. "I'm not sure what else there is to know, but if you insist."

[Redcap]

*A Shimmering portal appeared over Hammerfall and two figures tumbled through it with a blast of cold air and the smell of decay*

The male rolled and came up standing, his movements swift and graceful like a deadly cat.

The female tucked into a ball and hit the ground with her shield, she came up with a metallic clang and whipped out a fiery blade.

Laughter and a icy voice followed the duo. "Remember you two, no fighting!"

Te white haired elf looked around him and noticed where he was, seeing his Captn, Redcap assumed a swagger most sailors would be proud to own.

"Captn' how be ya?"

The red headed female elf behind him started arranging her gear after her plummet through the portal

[Anaie]

Anaie glanced toward the noise as she and Qabian crossed the small courtyard in Hammerfall. Cwen was near where Redcap and what appeared to be a Blood Knight had fallen out of a portal, but was enveloped in shadows and difficult to spot.

"Hmmm dat one been studyin dark arts... not what I would 'ave expected of 'er.." Anaie half mumbled to herself and half to Qabian, whom she still had by the forearm. He was not resisting, which was good, as she would hate to have to force him to come along, but he did not seem overly enthusiastic about coming either.

" 'ey dere, Cwen, Redcap" Anaie paused a moment, she did not recognize the Blood Knight. "Light stealah... " she smirked. "We will go outside da walls, near da hills to da east, where da kobolds sneak about. I do not wish ta discuss tings 'ere." She wore no armor, only a necklace and a ring would offer her any real protection, and was unarmed, but she knew where she had to be in case things went wrong. Chaindog was somewhere in the hills, ready to strike....

I just 'ope she's as good a shot as I tink she is... Anaie thought, as she made sure the engineering device she fastened to her belt was charged and functioning properly.

Anaie mounted Nageater and told the small group to follow her toward the hills. An odd tingle playing over her skin as the Blood Knight and its steed moved alongside her, just outside the gates.

"Fer da love of da deep... please be tellin' me ya don't 'ave da blade on yer person!" Anaie groaned as she recognized the feeling. This meeting could go very very poorly....

[Redcap]

Mahakali looked at the forsaken she was riding with and nodded her head. With a push of her will a glimmering appears to cover her skin and armor. The area near the elf is filled with an aura of peace and tranquility.

"Did you say something ..... Ar.. Redcap what is your friends name?"

The Blood Knight turns on her steed to look over her shoulder for her brother.

The Sounds of a chuckle come from her front and left side. "Sister o'mine this here be The Bane of The Sea's, the greatest pirate to sail any sea at any time, dis be my Captn, I would tell ya ta call her Mistress an hope she rebukes ya in a wa... " sickly green light pulses from the Rogues eyes.

"By the fires of the Sunwell, can you females not let a man grow up different than your desires? This my dear sister" Redcap pauses and looks around as if a small boy looking for a teacher and a ruler, seeing none he continues." is my guild mate Anaie, she is a high ranking member of The Grim, you would do well to offer her much more respect than you would any you have met or known on any plane"

The rogue a smirk coming over his face clambers to his feet while the mounts are running for the hills and turns in place and says with a bow.

"Capitan Anaie, Hatemonger of The Grim, may i present to you Mahakali Emilee Dawnspire, Blood Knight and second eldest of my Clan."

The rogue looks back and forth between both females and performs a hop and lands in his saddle with a laugh.

[Anaie]

Anaie nodded, her eyes going over the Blood Knights form, scanning for the blade.

"Eh, a pleasure I'm sure..." Anaie said somewhat detatched.

Anaie rode quietly to the spot she wished and dismounted. The area was clear of kobolds, Chaindog probably killed or scared them all off. She scanned the hills looking for the hunter, but could not see her. She had faith, and turned so that the hand sized device hanging on her belt faced where she thought Chaindog would be.

"Da daggah dat Qabian and Redcap found, it is an evil weapon. I requested it be in the 'ands of a Blood Knight, because of one fact, which is revealed by its name alone. Honestly, I 'ad only asked Cwen to come, as I did not tink dat Redcap would give up da blade so easily to anothah. It is good to see 'e does 'ave some sense it dat 'ead. Qabian, I brought you only because you found it first, and I thought you should 'ear what it was."

Anaie paused a moment remembering her fathers rule about important discussions, "Plaguebringer, the Infector." As she spoke its name, she could feel a tingle wash over her again, and her eyes went to the Blood Knight. "Mahakali, was it? I ask you hold that blade in a very secure place, and never, EVER, use it to injure someone. The blade is a plauge spreader, and it can infect anyone that is wounded by it. Their body will be ravaged and they will die, rising again as a minion of the Scourge, much like those that ate the tainted grains." Anaie held up her infected wound on her palm for them all to see. "Look at the wound on my palm and think what it would do to someone that did not already carry the sickness. However, I request that you speak of noone about the blade Mahakali, as people will wish to have a blade of power in thier hands, and if in the wrong ones, much ill can come of it. Think to the ravaging that the Scourge already cause to your homeland, and imagine another way for them to bolster thier ranks..."

"Cwen, more has come to me of late, and I will be meeting with Yichimeti to have him take me on a spirit journey in order to hopefully unlock more. I need you to try to find out anything you can of the Necromantic magics that power some of the strongest of the Lich Kings armies, the Death Knights, and others like them. I am led to believe that such magics were used upon me and that the lack of thier application is having an ill effect, mostly, on my person." Anaie did not notice her hand rested upon her belly again until after she was done speaking, but she quickly lowered it to her sides.

"Paladin... er... Blood Knight, I ask that if I request the blade of you, you will provide it, as I may need its magic to survive. However, ensure I am in a right mind. Do not come to me if you believe me to be not in control of my own actions, or it could turn out badly for you.

"Qabian, you were injured by the blade, and could have contracted the plague. You look well though, and I assume you were not infected from the strike. The wielder must cause the infection to happen, and it seems you assaillant did not know of this. The easiest way is to draw the weilders tainted blood upon the blade, which activates the enchantment, allowing it to be applied to the next victim. While you seem ok, I would ask you ensure such with whomever is an expert in some fashion about the matter."

"Redcap... while your presence and respect of my position is appreciated, of you I only ask one thing. Promise me you will not use that blade again."

With that Anaie ceased speaking, awaiting the acknowledgement of the group, especially the Blood Knight.

[Qabian]

Qabian went along with his guildmates, but he did not look particularly pleased about it. There was not enough killing going on.

But when Anaie mentioned the nature of the dagger as the Infector, the mage's eyes widened and his hand went to his neck. No scar remained from the few drops of blood he had lost to that fool of a human. He opened his mouth to interrupt, indignant that he had not felt anything unusual since he had been cut, but shut it as Anaie continued and offered the likely explanation.

The mage hadn't actually expected to learn anything he didn't already know, but he had, and found that rather disturbing. He rubbed at his neck, looking around thoughtfully. He wasn't sure there was anyone he could particularly trust to ensure that he hadn't contracted anything from that sunforsaken blade. Perhaps he could just ignore it. Anaie seemed to be removing it from use, which Qabian could only appreciate. He had not enjoyed any of the events that had involved him connected with the dagger.

And the news of its nature raised interesting questions about Jastra, although one would assume that it would be quite difficult to rise again as Scourge once cut into several pieces. However, Qabian did make a mental note not to be surprised should he come across a ghoul particularly similar to Jastra somewhere in the Plaguelands.

He continued to touch his neck, fingers searching for any remnants of a scar or some sensation of pain, but there was nothing. He felt fine. Qabian was certainly not grateful for the new sense of paranoia he'd just been given.

[Redcap]

Redcap nods at Anaie. "I don't need the fancy dagger to kill things with, I like my sword a lot more."

Looking at the Blood Knight Redcap waved his hands.

The female knight thbppts at her sibling and looks around and says "Of course I will keep the dagger out of the hands of children and killers."

"If you are done I can get back to killing, If not let's hurry along, not all of us are drifters." Mahakali glances sideways at her brother.

"Ooooo, zing. You got me, I am the drifter woo hoo. Yep, me the drifter. Wait... Wait aren't you the one who abandoned the family during the war?" Redcap twirls to his left and flings power towards the Blood Knight's face.

Mahakali throws up her shield and pulls out her sword then moves into a attack position.

The rogue grabs his other sword and attacks the female. Sparks spit from metal as flaming sword meets flaming sword and shield. The rogue seems to start bleeding from coming into contact with the Blood Knight's equipment. One of his attacks causes sparks and the Blood Knight begins to speed up.

As she calls forth her powers a curtain of flame slams into the earth between the two siblings. A icy chill and a shimmering portal appear and a hand covered in hoarfrost plucks the blood knight through the portal. The circle starts to close but the sounds of a voice can be heard before it slams shut.

"You are older than your brother, it is up to you to control your temper where he is involved, you will learn to control your anger and ....." The gate closes cutting off the torrent of words.