World of Warcraft®

Miasma - thick, dark and terrible - smothering.

Obscuring eyes desperate to see.

A sense of urgency spurred on, but sluggish legs were barely able to trudge through the dense fog.

Hyperventilating.

Arms stretching, fingers flailing, reaching for something that isn’t there.

A struggle to find that which is lost.

Finally, a glimpse!

Fingertips touch the soft blanket just as it is yanked away.

A scream, ripped from my throat as she is gone.
----

With perspiration forming on her brow, Azheira woke abruptly, wrenched out of the nightmare by her own cry. Still partly asleep, she twisted only her neck, the stone attached to her necklace sliding along her chest as she looked around the room, confused. The wooden beams above the bed were all wrong and disorienting. This wasn’t the house she shared with Cyrus and their son, Traxx, nor was it the Ocheliad Tower they had been staying at since the ogre attacks.

She closed her eyes, attempting to steady herself, knowing something was wrong. Still hazed by slumber and the frightening dream, she couldn’t quite grasp what it was. Her body ached all over, but she didn’t know why.

Where was Cyrus? Why wasn’t he here in bed with her?

Rising panic caused her chest to heave painfully. She reached for the Light within, forgetting for a moment that it had left her recently. Oddly, her core was able to touch the force that had been so elusive lately. It calmed her and the paladin began to relax. Just as she was beginning to feel more composed the sound of hooves on wood brought a soft smile to her lips. She knew that familiar gait intimately. Pale blue eyes shone brightly as she opened them to greet her lover.

Cyrus entered looking haggard and worn. Dark circles were deep shadows under his defeated eyes. Azheira’s smile faltered as she struggled to push the blankets aside so she could sit up.

Blood.

Dark claret, smeared and dried all over the midsection of her ripped dress. The dress that was now lying flush against her belly.

From afar she heard a low, keening wail and the cloud of sleep was gone in a millisecond. Her entire body quaked as if struck by lightning. Both hands clutched at her flat stomach.

The floor shook with the thundering of hooves as the warrior moved faster than ever before. He surrounded her with his arms as if trying to block the memory of last night from returning. But for all his strength and prowess in battle, he could not keep the nightmare out.

The Nathrezim had returned with an accomplice.

And the evil ones had stolen their daughter.

Azheira did not realize the wailing she heard was coming from her own mouth.

Elsewhere...........

The wind blew irregularly, a soft unending echo reverberating through void beneath her. Noikona sat at the brink of nothingness her thoughts lost in the horrific activities of the past days. She felt numb and broken when the words broke the silence “It would be such a shame if you fell.”

Noikona answered without turning her head "Would it really?"

The voice from behind her answered “For your friends, your family, yes. For me? Hardly.”

Noikona turned at the obnoxious reply, her eyes widening in recognition, a deep hatred flashed across her face "You! You have gone too far!'

The dread lord answered, sure of his self “Too far? How the mighty have fallen. You at one time would have taken it farther.”

Noikona stood, taking several steps forward, a stern look on her face “I would, and have done so, but this mortal is not yours to toy with. Give back the child, lest I teach you how to die, over and over”

Beltezher looked down at Noikona. "She is your mortal to toy with?" He laughed before continuing “I do not have the child."

Noikona hissed “She isn’t my mortal! You know where the child is! Bring her to me!”

Beltezher answered quickly “Wrong, and more wrong. However...”

Noikona took another step forward cursing “Damn you! “

Beltezher didn’t seem fazed at her approach and spoke “You want to destroy me, despite we both knowing how that will happen... It will continue to try and happen until one of us eventually perishes. I am here to make a deal.”

Noikona 's eyes ignited with emerald flames "A deal from your kind, what do you take me for?"

Beltezher looked back with a look of mock hurt “Your kind... I feel offended.” He continued “And yes, I do take you for a fool, but this? Do you want to pass up?

Noikona glared back "And if I don't like your words? I will carry you myself into the depths behind me"

Beltezher cackled. "Throwing me into the depths once didn't work."

Noikona sneered "Oh I would be with you, to make sure"

Beltezher brushed off her threat speaking “My deal. I will bring to you the child and my. ‘Accomplice’” his words full of hate at the mention of her. He continued “And you forget I ever existed, you and your 'friends' will never see me again.”

Noikona almost laughed at him “You want us to forget what you have done! The damage is irreversible, you expect us to never again think of what you have caused!”

Beltezher frowned “Here I thought the enemy of my enemy was a friend.”

Noikona demanded angrily "When! When would you produce what you have claimed?"

Beltezher shook his head “I don’t see the future, .. Noikona, but this is something I would try and do as quickly as possible. To show my word is truth.”

Noikona laughed "Your kind? Speak truth? There is something hidden in your pathetic tongue."

Beltezher replied calmly “The truth is spoken when it is most beneficial.”

Noikona, almost yelling retorted “I will never forget nor forgive what you have done! Your deal does not work with me! Do you even know where the child is? Your hesitancy to speak of times is most discouraging”

Beltezher ignored her outbreak “I plan on finding the mortal who backstabbed me and showing her no mercy. Whether you benefit from this is your own decision. Perhaps I should speak with the mother and see how rational she would be.” He paused before continuing “You can claim to have found her yourself, claim to have killed me. I may be a deceiver but I know the times to not deceive.”

The emerald flames turned an eerie yellow as they danced from Noikona’s eyes, her voice changed slightly and every word she spoke came out as a command “You will seek the child and return her to me! You will destroy the perpetrator that did this and bring proof of their death! You will give me ten thousand gold as a good faith gift of your desire to hold your word. You will report to me weekly on what you have found and I had better hear progress that I like. If you truly follow through and return the child to me, I will turn my back on what you have done and give you a blank page to your dealings with me. If you make yourself scares then I will not be lying if I tell the others I don’t know where you are. I can summon you, do not forget that.”

Will rolls
Noikona rolls 78 (1-100)
Sevino rolls 20 (1-100)

Beltezher growled out a curse at every word that Noikona spoke, his will clearly being broken; a large crack appeared on his chest as he struggled against it. He yelled. "I will do, only some!"

Noikona narrowed her eyes at Beltrezher and commanded "Speak what you will do!"

Beltezher replied “I will bring the child and return her to you. I will destroy the perpetrator and bring proof of their death... I WILL NOT bring you gold! I will.. report to you weekly but whether you like the progress is not my choice.”

Noikona nodded her head slowly in satisfaction "Someone can't hold a job it appears. Nevertheless that will do"

The dread lord smirked under his hood. "Give my regards to Azheira." He immediately flew up into the sky of Outland and away

The question kept repeating in her mind “Can you find my daughter?” Noikona had wanted so desperately to tell Azheira of what she had already done, but thought better of it. If Azheira were to find out that she had spoken with the nathrezim she was sure it would have been taken the wrong way. She knew the delicacy of the moment, no news was far better than building false hopes or creating any suspicions of distrust.

The nathrezim would report to her in a few days, this route seemed far more advantageous then doing it herself. She could still keep a strong lookout over Azheira and have the confidence that she was doing far more than anyone else. Besides she knew the link was in full effect now, she only hoped that Azheira’s current state of mind was disallowing it to become apparent. She had questioned Matron Genevra’s decision to drug her mistress, but in hindsight she was glad she did. Azheira needed the rest, her body may have responded well to the healing, but she knew the injury to her psyche would never fully heal.

Just outside Genevra’s house in Lakeshire, Traxx played in the water. Splashing and whooping as he carried on with the resilience of youth. He had, of course, been saddened by the news his sister was gone, but he was confident in his father’s ability to find her.

Cyrus had spent the better part of the last three days scouring Redridge for signs of the Nathrezim and his female accomplice.

Nothing.

Not a trace.

The warrior was becoming angrier every day. Unfortunately for some bandits he had encountered during his search, he had taken it out on them. There hadn’t been much left for the authorities to deal with after he was done.

Meanwhile, Azheira felt completely useless while she recuperated in Genevra’s home. Her body was recovering quickly due to the other paladin’s healing touch, but she seemed to struggle with simple tasks such as eating. She knew she needed to consume something – to keep up her strength. Food just didn’t taste like…anything now. What she really wanted was an excellent, aged, strong bourbon. Or five.

A frown crossed her face as she remembered Genevra offering her that flask last night. Tasted like Brandy. Obviously, Ms. Stoneheardt had a sneaky side. Resentment had flared when she realized what had happened, but a part of her was grateful. The sleeping potion had allowed her to rest without the nightmare intruding in.

Her shadowed blue eyes shimmered with tears as she looked down at her flat stomach – the nightmare in reality. Just a few days ago there had been a child, created by the love she shared with Cyrus, living and growing inside her. Now there was just a scar where the Nathrezim had cut her open. Their precious daughter gone.

They must find her. The paladin wasn’t sure she could go on if they didn’t.

Glancing at the plate piled with meats, cheese and fruit Cyrus had set next to her before he left to search some more, Azheira frowned, but picked up the plate anyway. If she was going to help Cyrus find their daughter she would need her strength.

Giggling, loud and infectious was heard coming from behind the couch. Gertha grinned as she peered out from the kitchen towards the front room. Two small heads bobbed close together, conspiring and laughing at their own antics. Gertha was sure their machinations meant trouble for her, but right now, she didn’t care. The boss lady was hurting and needed comfort food. Or any food, really. If Nabbi creating havoc with Traxx as her accomplice kept the boy occupied while Gertha cooked, well…so be it.

At the sound of a whistle, she turned back to open the oven door. Immediately, the smell of freshly baked bread began to waft throughout the house. Gertha grunted with satisfaction as she moved to the larder to pull out a variety of vegetables for the soup she was making. Just as she was climbing the ladder to reach the peppers on the upper shelf, a loud knock was heard at the front door.

Knowing the two schemers would never answer it, Gertha made her way down the ladder as quickly as her short legs could carry her. Whoever was out there must be important. Vainaa was on guard duty and she would not have let anyone near the house unless it was significant. Nabbi and Traxx didn’t even bother to look up as the dwarven woman made her way to the door.

A tall human male stood ramrod straight on the top step of the porch. He bowed slightly. “I have a message for Miss Azheira Lautrec.” He paused to point at Vainaa, standing nearby. “I was told by her to give it to you.” Pulling a thin, white envelope from his right breast pocket, he handed it to her.

Gertha glanced at Vainaa curiously, but the death knight didn’t notice as she was too busy keeping an eye on passersby.

“A prompt response would be highly appreciated.” The stiff man bowed curtly and left.

After shutting the door, Gertha stood there for a moment, pondering. Vainaa would have killed the man if the packet’s contents had been cause for alarm. She turned it over and opened the flap, pulling out a piece of parchment.

“Ach! Nabbi! Get over ‘ere. Ya need ta find Noikona.” Gertha refolded the parchment and stuffed it back inside the envelope.

Pink pig-tails stilled. Nabbi eyed Gertha with a large amount of trepidation and annoyance. “I don’t need to do anything of the sort. Traxx and I are planning humongous things!” The boy nodded in solemn agreement.

“I ain’ got time fer arguin’. Da boss lady’s beast man gave me orders ta watch da boy. Dat means you got ta be da one ta deliver da message. Now, get up and get goin’.”

Nabbi grumbled loudly as she rose and shuffled over with less than enthusiastic feet. Snatching the envelope, she muttered. “That goat better be nice to me. Cuz if she kills me…I’m blaming you, Gerty.”

((Because, you know, Nabbi and Noikona haven't seen each other in a while. I'm thinking they should hang out at the pool, sipping peach margeritas.))

06/04/2014 01:32 PMPosted by Gertha

((Because, you know, Nabbi and Noikona haven't seen each other in a while. I'm thinking they should hang out at the pool, sipping peach margeritas.))

(( . . . ))

((Now, there was no tripping, or chairs thrown or kidnappings or tortures or anything else truly awful during the meeting between Nabbi and Noikona. In fact, they seemed to get along reasonably well, I think.

There was just that one utterance of 'goat'...))

The missive lay askew on the bedside table. Azure eyes, dry for the first time in days, stared at it. Azheira had sent her own message weeks ago, when Noikona had first requested a meeting. Why her friend had wanted to meet with Azheira’s father was still a bit of a mystery – one she would need to question Noikona about later. She had not expected a response to her query, however. And certainly not this response.

Thuran Lautrec was ill.

Unfortunately, the letter was not specific as to how or why her father was sick. Grimacing in frustration, Azheira stood up and paced over to the window. Resting one hand on the sill and bringing the other up to finger the stone in her necklace, she searched the yard for Traxx. As usual, he was hanging upside down in a tree, and much higher than his mother would have liked. She frowned, debating whether or not she should go out there and reprimand him.

Pushing away from the window, she was about to go do just that when Traxx slipped. Helplessly, Azheira’s lips parted to scream, but no sound was emitted. The boy, however, was lightning quick. He stretched out one hand towards the ground. The dirt below him stirred, softening. When he landed, he almost seemed to bounce.

Trembling, Azheira shook her head, feeling in equal parts fear, relief and awe. Traxx’s shamanistic abilities were increasing at a rapid pace for one so young. Cyrus often told her not to worry about their son – she supposed he was right.

Briefly glancing back at the letter, she wondered what her own father would think of having a grandson like Traxx. She questioned if he would even claim him at all, considering the boy’s race.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, the moisture in her breath forming a slight haze on the window. Most likely, dear old dad would reject Traxx as well as Cyrus. For even though the boy was adopted, he was exactly like his father – at least in terms of their race. Of course, Thuran also had no idea of the past week’s events either. He did not know his granddaughter had been stolen, let alone that she even existed.

What to do…

Her eyes darting about the room, Azheira bit her lip, wondering where Genevra might keep an inkwell and some parchment. Despite the elder paladin’s generous offer to let them stay here, Azheira was beginning to feel like a guest who had overstayed her welcome. Having no idea where anything was and asking all the time felt awkward. She and Cyrus needed to talk about what to do next.

Bare feet made no sound as she padded lightly into the next room, scanning it until she found a mahogany secretary desk off to one side. Sitting down, she pulled out some paper and a quill.

Dear Father,

I am sorry to hear of your illness. I know it has been some years since we last spoke, but now I feel it is my duty to tell you of your grandchildren. Their names are Traxx and Kaalis…

Red dirt shifted and swirled around her feet. The sands of Hellfire had been stirred.

First the Dreadlord, then the Draenei had disappeared across the fathomless void. Azheira stood near the edge, perhaps a bit too close, but not quite caring enough to move. Had she tried to step away, her trembling legs would have likely collapsed anyway. The Nathrezim’s parting words had left her powerless and weak.

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.

For if Beltezher’s veracity could be proven…Slithengar’s life would be forfeit.

“He knew. He could have warned you beforehand about my plans to steal the child from your womb. He did not though, in a thought that if you lost the child, you would leave Cyrus and come back to him. His heart yearns for you, and he was willing to take the chance that this would happen.”

The words of the Nathrezim twisted tightly, forming painful knots inside her mind. It had been several days since their confrontation in Hellfire and yet she could not break free of the implications of what it would mean if true.

Seeking out Slithengar to question him had been relatively easy. She and Noikona had only to search the bars of Stormwind. His denial had been swift and seemed sincere. Her former lover had found someone else. Why would he still want Azheira? He assured her he would have informed her if he had known of the Beltezher’s plans.

It had been a long time since she and Slithengar were together. He was different now – drunk before noon most days. But did that alteration mean he would do something so despicable? Had the manner of their breakup changed him so much?

Azheira wasn’t certain she wanted to know.

She quickly wiped tears from her eyes as she lay on the ground still shaking. The transformation from her native form to draenei was becoming increasingly more painful. Her heart sank a little as she noticed the tattoos just beneath her skin were a little more visible, a fact that she desperately tried to hide from so many. She worked herself into a sitting position tightening the brace on her left leg. Lady Azheira had done all she could for the leg. It worked well enough, she was able to fight as well as any but without the brace it quickly tired and her limping became much more pronounced, a weakness she didn’t want exposed to others.

She stood brushing the reddish dirt from her leggings, her eyes narrowed as she looked at her surroundings. Her eyes flared emerald as she slowly let the barriers that hid her identity relax. Although physically she stayed unchanged, those with wisdom would be able to detect her from great distances. He would come she thought to herself. She knew better to summon him; she wanted him to come because he desired to. Her power to command him was gone and he knew it.

Exhaling deeply she looked over the edge of the floating island she had chosen. The vast emptiness of the nether looked back at her. Without warning a booming voice came from behind “Noikona!”

The conversation was brief and they both walked away. Now she must make another decision, but not one she would make alone. The nathrezim wanted Slithengar in return for Azheira’s child. She agreed to nothing. She only gave word that she would tell of her decision after she’d spoken with Azheira. If it had been up to her, Slithengar would already be at the demon’s feet. Even now a plan was forming in her mind, one that would keep the broken tool Slithengar alive and possibly trick the nathrezim into revealing the information she sought. If she found Slithengar was lying she would slowly skin him alive and take his quivering body to the top of Blackrock Mountain where she would chain him and let him bake for hours. If she was nice she might even tell his nephew where to find a free meal.

She lifted the hem of her dress as she walked unhurriedly along the bank. Stopping every once in a while to dig her bare toes into the damp soil. Being this close to the sea had always brought her peace. It was one of the reasons she had always loved being out here in Arathi with Cyrus. But try as she might, she could not seem to find that comfort these past two weeks.

She knew Cyrus was hoping that what he had planned for today would bring a smile to her perpetually downcast countenance. And perhaps it would. A part of her was glad they were doing this. She knew he wanted to unite them all as a family.

It just felt hollow without Kaalis.

A heavy sigh escaped her parted lips as the memory of their daughter passed through her mind. A glimpse. That was all she had. The briefest of images before Kaalis was gone.

Cyrus didn’t even have that.

Nearly vacant eyes gazed up at the house just as Cyrus and Traxx came out. Her warrior was dressed simply today – no armor. Just a pair of dark leather pants topped with a plain cotton shirt. He slowly made his way out to where Azheira was standing on the shore.

Holding out one hand he spoke softly to her, “It’s time.” No hesitation. The two of them walked hand in hand up to the big tree to the north of their house.

Traxx was so excited he practically bounced over to the tree. Reaching into his back pocket, he handed Cyrus a jumble of colored cords. The warrior frowned slightly at the mess, but Azheira just shook her head in mock annoyance. The boy merely grinned at both of them.

After untangling the thick ribbons, Cyrus took Azheira’s hands in his and nodded solemnly to Traxx. Carefully, the boy began to gently, but firmly wrap each one around his parents’ clasped hands. When Traxx was done, Cyrus leaned down, placing his forehead on Azheira’s. He murmured the words he had always spoken to her and she smiled.

The woman, known only as Lola to anyone who cared to ask, walked carefully along the edge of the crumbling, floating rock. So much trickery had gone on here today. Both sides had brought their own ruses, hoping to gain the upper hand over the other.

Her feet stilled as she peered across the void of space. Somewhere, into the vast unknown of the Nether, the Nathrezim had been flung. It had taken all three of his enemies to do it, however. His deception had been uncovered and they had retaliated with all their strength.

Of course, Beltezher had not gone down without a fight. The shield bearer, Noikona, the protector of the one Lola despised had been injured quite severely. Lola had laughed aloud from her high, out of sight perch, when the woman fell, bleeding profusely from her head and shoulder.

Slithengar, the hated one’s previous lover, had, regrettably, escaped injury. Lola had been surprised at the ingenuity of the trio. They had double crossed the Dreadlord with a construct created to look like the former Death Knight. And the stupid demon had not even noticed.

Out of the corner of her eye, a fluttering near her feet caused her to look down. Upper lip curling into a sneer, she bent down to pick up the small blanket Beltezher had used to cover his illusion. It had been a rather good bit of trickery, unfortunately for him, Azheira’s bond with her child had been too strong. She knew the false thing was not her daughter.

Lola’s hand began to burn with fel fire, lighting the blanket in a snap of white hot flames, the ashes soon blown out into the Nether as if following the creator of the ruse.

Expressionless, the warlock stood there for a long time. Her plan to destroy the paladin was working perfectly. Azheira was wholly distraught over the loss of her child.

All that was left to do now, was to decide the child’s fate.

His attendants and secretaries clustered in a corner of the outer office. Hushed, furtive whispers flying back and forth between them. In the past year, they had seen Thuran Lautrec’s behavior change from a man serious, but perhaps a bit aggressive in his business interests to someone unpredictable and at times, frightening to work for. In fact, the erratic and often volatile behavior he now exhibited had caused a great deal of turnover within his very large staff.

Today, however, one of the newer employees, had seen something entirely different when she had delivered two messages. One had arrived late last night and the other early this morning. Kirsten, the deliverer of both missives was holding court, explaining to the others what happened after she placed them on his desk.

“You know, I was totally expecting a beat down because the first one wasn’t given to him last night, but you know, that totally wasn’t my fault because I wasn’t on call yesterday.” Kirsten gave each of those gathered around her a pointed glance. When no one confessed to having left the earlier message for the morning staff to convey, she rolled her eyes and continued.

“Anyhoo! The first one was from his daughter, you know, the one he has been trying to find for the last year?” She looked around again, making sure everyone was paying attention. “He seemed pretty darn shocked by whatever she wrote, but he also smiled, which was totally bizarre! But that is when it happened.”

She paused and took a deep breath. A sassy, knowing grin appeared on her face as she prepared to deliver the next bit of gossip.

“The second envelope changed his mood a little and that is when I started to back out of the office. It was from that creepy lady he sometimes meets with. You know, the one called Lola? I’m glad I didn’t leave though, or I would have totally missed what happened next. Mr. Lautrec was clearly unhappy to get a letter from her. It only had a very short note in it, but you will never guess what else!” Expectantly, she glanced from face to face, hoping someone would take a guess. Their faces were rapt with attention, but no one bothered to make a prediction, knowing she would tell them anyway.

“It was a lock of hair! So strange! At first I thought it might be from Lola, you know, but the hair was so fine and delicate and blonde, so it couldn't have been hers. Actually, it almost looked like it came from a baby! It can’t be Lola’s baby though, since she hasn’t looked pregnant. He kept glancing back and forth between the letter from his daughter and the lock of hair. And that is when it happened!”

Another expectant pause as she tried to build up the tension so they would feel the full impact of her news.

“Mr. Lautrec cried! Seriously! Real tears came down his cheeks!”

Those congregated around Kristen were suitably shocked. Jaws hung open and eyes were wide. Mr. Lautrec never showed any emotion except anger. They all stood around for a few minutes, wondering what it was all about.

Suddenly, all eyes turned as a loud scraping followed by a terrific crash could be heard coming from the inner office. Then, a scream – only one word, a name, sounding as if it had been agonizingly ripped from Thuran’s throat.

“ASHY!”

The sin'dorei walked causally down the beautifully manicured streets, the tall spires of the city jutting far above her head. Her eyes looked longingly at the shops and sites, as a feeling of home pulled heavily down upon her. She nearly jumped as a voice commanded from behind her “Ma’am can you come here please?” She turned to see a Silver Convent official beckoning her to come closer.

She approached slowly, trying to hide the fear in her eyes. If she were caught she knew she would locked away for a long time, or worse. She half smiled as she neared asking “Can I help you?”

The official peered at her for some time before answering “Something doesn’t seem right about you. Mind telling me your name and what business you have here in the city?”

She looked annoyed at the official but answered “I am here to see a merchant about issues plaguing his daughter. I don’t plan on being here long. Is there a problem?”

The official narrowed his eyes “Your name?”

She tried not to look annoyed at his questioning for she couldn’t lie, she spoke giving a tone of impatience “Noikona”

The official raised an eyebrow and chucked “That is an odd name for your kind”

Noikona’s face flushed with anger as she retorted “Listen here blue eyes, I didn’t come all this way to be mocked by a name that my late mother gave me. If you don’t have anything further I will be on my way”

The officials amusement quickly vanished from his face as he nodded and rolled his eyes “Be on your way Miss, I will seek you out later”

Noikona shook her head as she walked away; time was of the essence now. It wouldn’t be long until he cross referenced that name, but then again. Who would be foolish enough to give their real name?

The sun was still high in the sky and the streets of Dalaran were quite crowded, she should have no problem losing herself in the throng for some time yet. As long as her signature didn’t set off any wards she should be gone before he figured out who she was.

She approached the address which had been on the envelope and was greeted by a man. She looked in his eyes and listened to his voice, the eyes and voice triggering memories that weren’t her own, but had found an eternal home in her mind. She greeted him and found a corner behind a bookshelf to morph into her draenei form. After the initial shock he was more than forthcoming on what befell him of the past several months.

Noikona was pleased with the tidbits of information; she had a name, Lola and motive. Now all she needed was a location.

The motive bothered her though. Azheria had resurrected Lola’s husband after being dead for a prolonged amount of time. Lola's grudge was to destroy Azheria because, although the resurrection was successful he claimed to have no memory. Maybe had the resurrection not exceeded four hours and he'd sought additional medial help, harships wouldn't have rissen. There just seemed to be more to the story. As a result he left her and Lola's plight to destroy Azheira started.

Noikona's desire to depart was only motivated on the threat of being discovered. She didn’t want to leave this man. She felt strangely drawn to him, comforted as if he wanted to protect. With a bit of effort she shook the feelings away and stepped out into the streets. She rounded a corner only to be faced with three guards.

Thellca looked at Noikona rolling her eyes “Really now Noikona. Not even a disguise this time? You really are getting brash”

Noikona's eyes widened as she realized she had been so comfortable she had forgotten to morph.

Thellca yelled “Get her”

Noikona’s shoulders slumped as she turned on her hooves and fell into a full gallop, the last thought as she jumped off the side of the city was “Here we go again”

Squirming and whimpering, the baby slept fretfully in the basket. Lola watched with an expressionless face, but deep in her lilac eyes, was something more – a longing. A desire she had pushed aside long ago, now clawing its way to the surface every time she looked at Azheira’s child. The original plan had been to give the girl to the collective for ‘training’, but now….

A tiny cry from the baby had the warlock rushing over to pick Kaalis up to comfort her. The girl continued to sob, as if she knew the arms that held her were not her mother’s. Lola, however, was not frustrated by this. She murmured softly and rocked the child in her arms as she walked up and down the recesses of the cave that was now their home.

And it was their home – temporarily, at least. Lola’s face softened as she looked down at the wriggling child. She could not fathom the feelings that came over her when she gazed on Kaalis. How could she care for Azheira’s child? She wanted revenge on the paladin for taking away her own family, and yet, this baby was slowly winning her over. Even knowing what the child’s father was had not stopped this tide of emotion.

Pacing to the mouth of the cavern, she looked out at the horizon, the pale rays of morning just now beginning to show themselves beyond the far mountains. Kaalis had stopped crying and for a moment, all seemed peaceful.

The calm before the storm, perhaps.

Lola knew this could not last. She had to get out of here, and not just because Cyrus and Azheira were searching for their daughter.

The collective was out there. The warlock could sense it. If she had any hope of making a new family with Kaalis, escape was paramount. The how of it would need to be carefully constructed. She would need help, but who would be willing?

Briefly, an image of the girl she had taken as an apprentice appeared in her mind. Lola’s eyes flashed with anticipation. Yes, the novice would do quite nicely. Contacting her would be tricky, though, as Lola feared entering the city. Cyrus and Azheira had spies everywhere.

Perhaps AAMS could be of assistance in this endeavor. She smiled as plan began to formulate.

Laura had been sitting on the top of the large tower in Greewardens Cove when the strange woman approached her. She had thought, like her that she had come to the top to partake in the chance of the splendid view; instead she seemed all about business. Laura had worn her tabard, more out of habit but also to let others know that the AAMS was available anywhere. She quickly let her annoyance fade, that the woman didn't share her same taste in beautiful things and let her speak.

It appeared to be a standard verbal message, one that she could most likely do with her eyes shut. Even the name of the recipient sounded familiar. The only thing Laura found peculiar was the woman’s reaction to what seemed to be a hearth stone or something of that nature. Laura was sure she heard the sound of a baby’s crying coming from it. The woman seemed very irritated at this. So much so that she insisted that she would be paid later. Laura hid her disappointment and only nodded, leaving the woman and tower to catch the next group of travelers heading South to Stormwind.

From his position guarding the mouth of the cave, Kilrax turned himself just enough to be able to watch the commotion inside. A loud crack echoed throughout the cavern as Rhirezza, her six arms flailing helplessly, hit the stone wall. As she slid down into a crumpled heap, Gib’tok giggled maniacally before being silenced by rather large bolt of fel energy hitting his head. Illyrak watched, his myriad eyes observing everything with disdain.

“Mistress, I did warn her not to contact you, but she insisted,” The observer's tone strongly implying his scornful opinion of the shivarra’s level of intelligence. He should have known better than to voice his judgment. At least four of his eyes were scorched into ashes by the next fire ball.

Lola was livid. Her chance encounter in Greenwarden’s Grove with the AAMS courier had been fortuitous and she had jumped at the chance to contact her apprentice without going into Stormwind herself. Unfortunately, her conversation with the messenger had been interrupted by an urgent call from her minions regarding Kaalis. Apparently, the baby had not stopped crying since she had left to pick up supplies.

Lola had done her best to keep the conversation short, but she was sure the AAMS representative had heard the child’s cries. It had flustered the warlock to the point of leaving without paying or even asking the agent’s name. She could only hope the courier would do her job while keeping her mouth shut.