World of Warcraft®

The voice echoed in her head yelling You're One of Us!

"I'm not!" Is all she could yell back.

Lilith ran for her life down darkened corridors of stone. With each turn the stone became more of a raw metal. The raven-haired gnome's heart raced, panic fueling her pumping legs that hurled her down a twisting turning labrinth. She wasn't looking for an exit. The thought never occurred to her. She only wanted to get away from that voice.

Her legs became heavy. She tripped over herself and tumbled headlong into the corridor wall as it turned sharply in one direction. She impacted the wall with a metallic clang. It didn't sound right. She pushed herself to her feet and away from the wall.

Bits and pieces of her flesh fell from her arms and hands, cold metallic patches revealed beneath. The walls around her shifted, becoming more and more metallic. Cold lifeless metal eyes stared at her and Lilith recoiled in fear. A sound like thunder echoed from the dark end of the corridor behind her. The sound grew intense. The air warmed and became acrid, burning at her flesh. Flames of yellow and green rolled slowly from out of the darkness.

In the midst of the flame a dark singed bone mask looking similar to that of a bird's head emerged. It stayed just within the ball of yellow and green flame, unmoving, silent. Staring. Lilith turned back to the cold metallic eyes only to find a reflective surface. The cold metallic eyes that stared back at her in the mirror were her own.

You Are One of Us, the voice echoed again. "NO!" she Lilith screamed. She wasn't one of them. She wouldn't be one of them! The raven-haired gnome turned toward the rolling flames. She tried to move but her legs were heavy and would not step. She reached toward the skull.

A darkness deep within her craved to be released, and in that desperate moment she relented. Shadows oozed from her flesh, coating her body, covering the floor. They spread throughout the corridor in both directions cloaking everything in darkness. Touching the flames, trails and wisps of green flames spread throughout the shadows like veins or roots. The shadow and flame mixed, corrupting each other further.

Lilith drew a deep sulfurous breath, and her world ignited.

She watched as dark shadow flames danced with green and yellow fel corrupted fire. The flames lapped at her body, consuming her in sweet agony, burning away what flesh remained. She touched her face, but it was not her own, or at least not the one she had known.

A reflection of herself stared back. Her face covered by a charred bone mask looking like that of a birds head. Dark inky shadow flames danced across like black feathers. Her charred body revealed a mix of bone and metal limbs.

Lilith awoke in a cold sweat.

She panted heavily. Her heart beat rapidly. She felt like she had just been running for her life from some unspeakable evil.

Her head turned to the side. The very normal intent to open one's eyes was instead met by the high pitched ping and hum of her ocular orbs powering on. The action startled her for a moment, bringing up a defensive hand that just as quickly fell away when she realized... it was just her new eyes. The eyes she never wanted. The eyes that insane gnome, no... that insane creature, had forced upon her.

Waves of pain radiated throughout her head and face as aching tired muscles worked to manipulate what was no longer there. Even the fel darkness had tried to reject them. Inky tendrils tried to rid Lilith of the machines, but only succeeded in burning away her eyelids. Even her tear ducts were cauterized. She could no longer cry. Helpless and entranced by Sprockets hypnotic device, a part of Lilith had been aware throughout the whole procedure.

Light gradually returned. An unfamiliar image of her world formed. She didn't understand how or why these devices worked, only that they did. She could see without her original organic eyes. It was wondrous, but they effectively changed how she perceived her world. In effect they changed the world itself.

She sat up slowly from the spot where she had slept the night. A dark spot just off the main way in Ironforge, between the commons and military quarters. A shadowed arch beneath a set of stairs offered cover and seclusion enough. Luckily she had passed the night unmolested. She pressed her back against the cold stone and peered out into the light of the busy street.

Her hands lifted a pair of goggles given her by the mad Sprocket. Lilith never really took to wearing goggles. They always felt strange and unnatural. Now they were a necessary evil, since her very eyes were strange and unnatural.

Begrudgingly she pulled the pair of goggles over her head, covering her eyes. Though the tint of the goggles were heavy and colored, she found that her new eyes adjusted for their contrast. Interesting. There would come a day when she'd be impressed. She'd be grateful at what they could do and even more grateful at what they could become. That day would come, but not for some time.

Bitterness boiled deep within filling her mouth with acrid hatred. She hated having her eyes taken. Hated having these, monstrosities, forced upon her. Most of all however, she hated that her choice had been stripped from her.

Incapacitated. Strapped to that mad gnome's bench and toyed with, completely helpless. Never again.

Sitting under the cover of the small bridge she genuinely felt apart. Here in the darkness. This was her world, more so than out there in the street. In the light.

'Lilith' was an illusion. Fleshy bits to be picked and prodded. A thing that other's manipulated, tossed aside and ignored. A mask to fool everyone around. To make her invisible and make everyone feel safe. Feel normal.

Lilith was a lie. Raven was the truth.

A moment's reflection on her dream had the raven-haired gnome lightly touching her face as she sat against the cold stone. She would have rather felt the bone mask than her own flesh. Once again she found herself on the precipice of change. A potentially life altering decision was at hand.

The world around her was beginning to feel more and more estranged, and her an alien to it. Strange and distant as she felt she was hardly alone, she knew. Grim was always with her. Her very own dark guardian. Her Fel Angel.

The raven-haired gnome lifted herself to her feet. Her body ached terribly from her struggle within the Mad Sprocket's lab. Bitter and full of hate as she felt, she stepped toward the light of the street. As she inched her way out from under the archway, out from the darkness, she slipped on the mask of Lilith. For now it would be her shield, and she would continue on task for Raven hungered for darker secrets.

Secrets of blood.
Secrets of shadows.

Lilith would feed Raven, and when Raven was satisfied...
... the mask would slip, and it would be time to play.

As Lilith disappeared into the sea of merchants and citizens, the dark grimoire whispered sweetly its dark tidings.

The little gnome made her way through the crowded gate of Ironforge, completely oblivious to the throngs of Bronzebeard, Wildhammer, Dark Iron dwarves and gnomes of every sort coming and going. Even a good portion of human merchants and sightseers mingled among the crowd.

None of it interested Tink however. It was all background noise to the soundtrack of thoughts swirling in her head. The day before she had encountered that rather unique Arcane Core device that called itself Sims.

It called itself Sims. That phrase alone just never sounded right. Especially when she uttered it aloud.

A burly dwarf fussing with a stubborn ram came toward the gnome as she walked. He head hung low and pensive. As the dwarf and his ram neared the little gnome blinked to the side suddenly, then forward into a gap between a couple of dwarfs haggling with a human over wares, and back to the side again into a relatively open space where she continued on her way into the mountain city.

From the corner of her eye, just as she reached the top of the stairs beneath the towering statue of Magni, Tink caught the glimpse of something familiar. She stopped in her tracks and glanced around the platform. Dwarfs, Gnomes, and Humans meandered about, coming and going at their own pace. Pockets of them grew thick while a river of pedestrians flowed inward and out.

There! Again! Spotting a dark haired gnome from behind, her heart jumped. "Lilly!" She called out, but the bustle of traffic suddenly obscured her view. Tink pushed through the crowd but the image of a gnome she hadn't seen in a long time had vanished. Frustrated, Tink blinked up atop a large stone bulkhead against the wall so she could see over the crowded heads. She peered for many moments but to no avail.

Tink blinked back down into the moving stream of people and made her way into the commons. Her brow drew down into a grimace as she made her way. She was more troubled now than ever.

What was that Sims device? Why had it arrived so suddenly and then left in a prototype shell? Who was Doctor Mahlr'D, and why was he seemingly so important? ...other than simply being a close friend. She wanted to teleport herself to Stormwind but there was just too much to do here in Ironforge and in Thelsamar to keep his business running in Nixim's absence.

Now lump on top of it, Tink swore she had seen her estranged elder sister. While not a sister by birth, the two had been raised together along with her biological sister Ethel making them a trio in childhood. Lilith, or Lilly as she knew her, was always the staunch serious sibling that worked as hard as she could to set a good example for the other two. She did, but at the time you wouldn't have known it. Tink and Ethel were rather free spirited most of the time and it usually drove Lilly up a wall. She had always been a stickler for rules, and it frustrated her when they weren't followed.

Tink smirked at remembering how irritated she would become during magical lessons. She tried so hard to follow each rule to the letter, and in doing so she'd unwittingly cut herself off from both the imaginative and intuitive nature it takes to work with any sort of magic. Letting go of her rigid ideals just never came easily for Lilly, and so she struggled so hard.

Of the three of them it was TInk who showed the most aptitude, and so she naturally garnered the most attention. It wasn't until they were older and making their own way into the larger world that it became clear just how much Lilly had been hurt by that snub. Even perceived as it was, it was a bitter source of contention that ultimately drove her away from everyone after an emotional meltdown. She just simply disappeared.

It was saddening. Tink had missed Lilly terribly for so long, but after a time she had to move on. Lilly never returned and never sent word. Logically, as cold as it seemed, Tink had to come to the realization that her beloved sister was either dead or just didn't want to be found. She hoped that it was the latter case, and that she had finally found a measure of peace.

Tink let loose a long heavy sigh. There was no way of telling for certain if it was her or just another gnome that looked like her from the back. She had only caught a glimpse afterall. As she made her way through the Military Ward toward Tinker Town she cleared her head of the matter as best she could, putting sad old memories and bitter regrets to rest once more.

The cold of Dun Morogh eased her mind. It also worked to ease the injuries inflicted by the mad gnome, Sprocketeer. As she descended the road to Ironforge and turned east toward the mountain passes Lilith removed the large gnomish goggles which still felt so alien and uncomfortable.

Muscles flinched to blink eye lids that no longer existed. A needle of pain reminded her that these eyes were not her own.

She stumbled a little as she walked along the snowy stone road. A pair of mountaineer dwarves rounded the bend up the road. Realizing how strange she must look Lilith pulled out the strip of thick dark cloth that she had used earlier as a blindfold and tied it over her eyes.

For an instant it blocked her vision. The mechanized eyes in her head whirred and zipped. The vision they provided warped ever more causing Lilith's head to spin. Her stomach twisted with nausea. Altogether she felt her world spin and her knees became weak. Before her legs buckled the raven-haired gnome thought to close her eyes.

Sore muscles in her face twitched sending impulses of her intentions to each mechanical orb. Her vision dimmed and everything went black as if someone pulled the power coupling of an electric lamp. Lilith's world was now a blackened room.

The sudden darkness was disconcerting, but on the more favorable side her headaches ceased. The cold mountain breeze cooled her skin and was certain it was making a wispy mess of her dark hair.
Soon she would have to look at herself in a mirror, but for now she'd rather avoid reflective surfaces if at all possible. The emotional strain at losing a part of herself was still too great.

She needed time. A long slow walk to Thelsamar in the loch should suffice.

Lilith's ears twitched at the sound of distant foot steps. The pair of mountaineers. They were drawing near. Sore muscles twitched in her ocular cavities sending impulses of her desires to the two mechanical eyes in her sockets.

A ping of energy surging in each eye rang in her ears, resonating through her head.

Gradually her vision returned. It was clouded at first. On impulse she flinched to blink her lidless eyes. Instead the muscle impulses translated to the pair of mechanical orbs simply made them readjust their focus like a pair of camera lenses. Then Lilith realized. The slight haze was due to the blindfold that hid her eyes. The ocular imaging devices in her head had readjusted to the point that despite the thickness of the cloth she could perceive the world between the fibers.

The distortion of the fabric muted the color, sharpness, and clarity of the image being interpreted by her new mechanized eyes. It was strangely familiar and much less disorienting. For now it was preferable.

"Yo!" A gruff voice called. Lilith lifted her head to see the pair of mountaineer dwarves draw close.

"Are ye needin' any assistance?" The other dwarf asked.

A female. Shapely and tall as the other male, but differently proportioned, she could see more clearly now. Each wore the typical green cloak and hood of their guardianship.

Lilith shook her head slightly. "No." Her voice came hoarse with a tone of sore pain. "I'm fine."

Lilith glanced between the two as they approached closer. The female hefted a large rifle on her shoulder, adjusting the sling it hung from. The male tossed the cloak over his right shoulder, revealing an ironforge ax slung through a belt loop.

She was not fine. She had warmth enough that the cold breeze felt good. It was comforting. Familiar. Soon it would sap that warmth from her, a gradual thief of life. Lilith's clothing was simple. The same common robes she had been wearing while passing through the Swamp of Sorrows. The same she had been wearing when the mad gnome had abducted her. Three days now without a bath of change of garb.

"Ye certain lass?" The male spoke. His voice low and gruff, but his tone genuine enough. Lilith nodded.

"I'm fine, for now. I might be needing some warmer clothing soon, if you have any to spare."

The female noded. She grinned down at the gnome and asked sweetly, placing her hands on her wide hips and leaning forward as if she were talking to a child. "Aye, we have. An' it seems you be needin' more than a cloak deary. By the look an' the smell o'ya." She turned slightly, gesturing to the snowy hills behind her. "If ye keep on this road, round those hills there, you'll see a stone dwellin' with some other mountaineer's standing about. Tell'm Ingrid sent ya an' they'll fix you up with some basics."

The male shifted his weight, looking somewhat distracted. He asked more out of habit of duty than actual concern. "Where ye off to then?"

Lilith glanced between the two. The dark grimoire she carried on his hip grew warm. It whispered to her, putting images into her head. Gruesome random images of dismembered bodies, blood spraying across freshly fallen snow. Screams of horror and pain from the shapely female dwarf as her meat sizzled, immolated by fel flames. The male sprawled on his back, eyeless and heartless. A gaping hole in his chest.

The images flashed, and Lilith glanced down at her hands. Her left arm, scared from where Chomat had grasped her, burned with yellow-green flames stinking of brimstone and charred flesh. Her right arm was coated in gore. A throbbing muscle in her clenched fist, which was once within the sprawled male dwarfs chest. The images flashed, and then were gone.

Lilith had been peering at her arms, her hands open. They were normal. Her long sleeves relatively clean and unblemished. Her left hand still scared, but looking more like regular burns healing than they did anything else. The brimstone. Its stench still lingered in her nose.

"What's wrong with ye?" The gruff voice of the male dwarf grumbled. Lilith glanced up at the pair. They were still standing before her, alive. Ingrid looked concerned, the other confused. The gnome grinned again and waved the matter aside.

"I'm fine. Around the bend then. Thank you both. I'll stop in and get situated." Lilith dropped her head and pressed forward, passing in the space between the two mountaineers. The pair stepped aside and watched her go. Confused and concerned as they were, they didn't press the matter any further.

It was common for them to come across the occasional traveler that was ill prepared for the high cold climate of the Modan. They were known to keep ample supplies on hand, stockpiled in their various forts throughout the mountain passes, for just such occasions. It was their duty, after all, to patrol the mountain passes protecting their realm and its travelers from all manner of dangers. So often the most grave of dangers was from the cold itself.

Lilith rounded the bend in the road. The building wasn't in view, but in the clear distance the path into the hills was marked by a pair of stone braziers that burned hot. It was a distance off yet, but she would be there shortly. A shiver threatened to crawl up her spine and she knew that she'd be arriving just in time.

The montage of gruesome images from before. The dark grimoire was showing her what she could have done. What she could do. Lilith knew it. She wanted to do it. She hungered to taste the rush of it all once again. It was... intoxicating.

She knew that was simply the fel speaking to her. Lulling her into a sense of power, of security. Nevermind the dangers she faced. She wanted that power, wanted to wield it, but there was a balance that needed to be struck.

She needed to become more cunning too. Slaughtering those two dwarves in the open on a well traveled road would be rather foolish. Someone else could come upon the scene before she could make her escape, then her cover would be blown and she'd be forced to kill another, flee, or be captured and likely killed herself... and that just would not do.

She needed to speak with Kasim.

A chill wind blew, rustling her robes and twisting her long black hair. She shivered, her warmth waning. The dark grimoire whispered again. Lilith paused in the road. She was alone. Lifting her left arm she pulled back the long sleeve and examined the healing burns. They were still red but no longer painful, and so the healing was nearly complete.

The scars indeed did form a series of demonic runes in a pattern that wrapped her forearm. The flesh that the imp had touched was forever warped and distorted. Lilith gazed at her arm through those dead mechanical eyes of hers. The dark grimoire whispered, and she spoke at her uplifted arm.

"Meh -lok- enkilzar."
<I -am- ready.>

A familiar pain returned as the scars wrapping her left arm warmed. The flesh grew hot and began to glow slightly. A faint stench of brimstone wafted around her. Her arm burned but yet was not consumed. It was painful but familiar and somehow tolerable. She flexed her hand and lowered the arm, pulling it through the sleeve inside her robes. Lilith smirked as the fel energy warmed her core.

She wouldn't need to stop after all. Good. The fewer witnesses the better. She drew her robes closed tighter around her neck and adjusted the satchel at her side. The familiar weight of the dark grimoire bouncing against her hip, Lilith continued on toward Thelsamar.

Her journey on foot was slow and largely solitary. The few travelers that would have met her didn't. She chose to instead find an adequate hiding spot beside the road and allow them to pass.

When she finally did make it out of frigid Dun Morogh and into the Valley of Kings Raven elected to pause a ways from the valley's fort. The urge to visit the few mountaineers that manned the stout structure for some food and simple supplies overwhelmed her. They would be more than happy to lend a hand, she knew, along with some curious questions, she also knew. Yet she resisted. Her long walk through the snow blanketed mountains had been occupied by deep reflection.

As she made her way through the South Gate Pass a thing dawned on her.

Sustaining the body via another creature's life essence.

Her hunger pains had begun in the pass and her mind lingered on the simple salted meats, breads, and tankards of ale that the dwarves tended to keep stocked at their various forts. She knew she'd be coming upon one soon in the Valley of Kings, and she was planning on pleading to the mercy and general good nature of the mountaineers.

If that failed she was also forming a plan B, which entailed a bloody attempt to take what she needed. But for the moment she felt rather lacking in strength and her conviction wavered. It was then that the thought dawned and she paused.

Something Grim had told her. A lesson ringed in the back of her mind. She couldn't quite place the time or instance, yet it -was- his voice. The formless words sparked a memory. Something she had glanced at in passing as she had studied through the black grimoire.

Extracting and consuming life's essence.

It was a strange subject heading at the time. In this moment however it became a flicker of inspiration. When she'd exited the pass into the Valley of Kings and paused Raven evaluated her options, making note of patrolling Mountaineers and potential blind spots. She had to wait for the shadows of afternoon to move, then she evaded the patrols and skirted the fort.

Food, sustenance, it was mere paces away and yet she knew this was a chance to use her suffering to advance. To grow as a warlock.

Finding an appropriate place among some trees and out of the way the raven-haired gnome sat and pulled out the black grimoire. She admired its dark eerie binding as one might a treasured heirloom. In truth the object was more of a silent friend, lending her a boon of inspiration and confidence with its mere presence. At this moment she sought knowledge. Drawing a small amount of blood in the palm of her hand via a simple ritual dagger she carried, Lilith drew on the fel power growing within and beckoned the grimoire as she lifted its cover.

The pages flew between her fingertips until she found exactly what she wanted. "Extracting and consuming life's essence." She murmured as she read. The pages flowed with knowledge. She could feel the fel energies as they pricked her mind, imprinting these mystical concepts as it were onto her very soul. Demonic diagrams, sigils, ritualistic rites and patterns availed themselves to her complete understanding.

As she studied the pains of hunger faded along with her awareness of time and space. Her world become a field of knowledge within the realm of thought as she mentally put to the test each and every method, formula, ritual and technique the dark grimoire imparted.

When it was over and the great book would teach her no more the gnome lifted her head with a deep sigh. The world flooded back to her. It was the twilight of day. The moment between the passing of day into night when it was neither. Was it a coincidence or an omen that of all the hours in the day she would regain her senses now? Right now, in this very moment, she returned slightly different than when she had mentally left. Perhaps this was a subtle message from the black grimoire that she was prepared. Perhaps a subtle manipulation by her beloved Dark Master, the grim one.

Or it could also be a complete figment of her overactive imagination, imprinting deeply held hopes and desires onto a moment making it mean more to her than it actually should. Whichever the case, the notion made her smile.

Glancing back down at the open book in her lap, the words on the pages twisted and moved. Lilith curiously watched as the lettering appeared more akin to dwarven runes, then twisted demonic. She read their meaning well enough, yet a spike of magic imprinted their message into her mind.

"Stay away from Ironforge."

Not indefinitely, but merely in the next week or so. It was a warning from her dark master. Something was afoot she knew, and he likely didn't want her mixed up in it. Just as well. She was heading away from there on a task of her own. Surely he knew this, but that he would send the message anyway meant a lot to her. More than some simple infatuation, it was a sign that he had plans for her yet. She would have her chance to prove her worth, and make the grim one proud.

She flexed tired muscles as she stood. The wave of hunger washed over her stronger than before, spinning her head, threatening to unbalance her. After a momentary battle of wills, the gnome replaced the dark tome and stepped from her place of solitude more Raven than Lilith.

She quickly found the pathway leading up to Stonesplinter Valley. This was the road to her further enlightenment.

The Stonesplinter Troggs were nothing to scoff about. Hideous simple creatures, they possessed a ferocity and crazed strength that in many ways was unmatched by any other wild animal. Intelligent, instinctual, resilient, extremely territorial, they didn't suffer the presence of strangers. An adequate display of strength was enough to cause one or two of them to flee, but they would fast return bolder than before and in greater numbers.

Raven counted on it.

The gnolls of Galardell Valley in the Redridge Mountains proved a great learning tool. Even while presenting their own unique challenges, their dim witted natures allowed her to strengthen basic shadow magics and discover her talent for bloodworks. On more than one occasion their keen senses proved rather uncanny. When she'd been discovered it always boiled down to fleeing for her life or fighting to the death. She had grown strong and confident and soon the troggs of Stonesplinter Valley would prove their worth as the gnolls had.

*Days pass into weeks.

Raven awoke suddenly and sat straight up. She sat in her warm comfortable bed a moment to gauge her surroundings. The leap between dream and reality could often times be jarring, especially when those dreams are laced with dark whispers and demonic prognostications that often felt more real than the waking world.

The mechanical eyes behind her dark blindfold adjusted in the darkness while sleep cleared from her mind. She was in a room of thick stone walls lined with sturdy bunk beds. Humans and dwarves snored in their sleep within several other beds. Remembering where she was, Raven drew in a deep breath.

Nethergarde.

Once a dark morass of thick swamp and gnarled vegetation left twisted and stripped barren of life, it was now known as the Blasted Lands. At its heart, the dark portal. The fortress that stood in defense of all Azeroth against the demonic forces that would invade this world through that dark heart was named Nethergarde Keep. It was a bastion of hope for some. A reassurance that the people of this world were kept safe from evils beyond imagining.

It was a lie.

Evils beyond imagining walked among them every day clothed as just another sheep in the fold. Little did anyone know of the wolves that stalked among them.

Raven kicked her covers off and dangled her legs from the bedside. She had only just arrived the day before and was surprised that they seemed so welcoming to a traveler. Adventurers of all sorts traveled from far and wide to witness the dangers, to test their strength, or to actually lend a hand to the Nethergarde. To these she must seem as just another adventurer seeking excitement. The truth... oh the truth...

The dangers of this land were very real and very apparent the moment she cleared the pass. Aside from the warm blasts of wind and the acrid stench it carried, Raven could feel the demonic energies. It was a wonderland of delicious mysteries. First on her list of discoveries, and foremost, was the blood mage Kasim. She had an idea where he might be found. All she needed now was to look.

Dropping to the floor in the darkness she could tell by the chill in the air that it was still early morning. She mused that even the chill felt eerie and unnatural.

Pulling the blindfold from her eyes she quickly slipped on a new pair of gnomish goggles made to fit. **After her stint of... edification... with the troggs of Stonesplinter she passed through Thelsamar and quickly learned that a blindfolded gnome that appeared uninhibited by the blindfold drew far too much attention. Fate intervened and she was spared an unnecessary conflict. Now she traveled with goggles and as silly as it seemed to her people tended to quickly forget a common gnome in plain goggles.

The blindfold instead became a simple masked pulled up over her nose and mouth. Donning the rest of her recently acquired set of traveling clothes, she threw her satchel strap over her head and crept into the quiet halls.

Now was her moment to slip away unseen. Her presence soon to be forgotten.

-----------------------
((*Got a bit ahead of myself, so I'll have to cover that in some other way.))
((**This bit as well. ))

Shadowsworn cultists wandered throughout paying little attention to what was happening around them. They all seemed dutifully engaged and far too busy to take notice of her. Raven began to wonder if she even needed her simple disguise. Perhaps killing that lone wandering gnome cultist for his robes was all for naught.

An errant thought crossed her mind and she worried for a moment if she'd suitably hidden the body.

She slipped into the darkened passages and stood against the wall for a moment to watch. Cultists of all races passed by the dark paying it no mind. Not even a curious glance its way. Another things she found curious. She began to wonder in the back of her mind if something were up.

It was incredibly dark. The torches lighting the way throughout the Serpent's Coil ceased a few dozen meters back, a thing that caught her attention as odd.

The cool and slightly humid temperatures was mostly favorable. Were it not for her mechanical eyes and the occasional waves of stabbing headaches she would have been rather comfortable. It was understandable then that she would find a simple framed bed beside a chair and table set. Soft rugs layered the hard clay dirt floor making it all feel rather inviting. At the other side of the deep nook lay a small fire ring with a pair of short wooden stools on either side.

Deep at the back of a long twisting cave system the raven-haired gnome sat upon just such a stool, elbow on knee, chin resting in hand. Her mechanical eyes adjusted to the deep darkness, casting her environment in darkened hues of green. It was still very dark, through she could see well enough.

The furnishings were of gnomish make, she could tell. Made just the right size for an average gnome. This had to have been the place. It had to have been where Kasim Sharim the blood mage called home. All of the evidence and clues lead her to this place, and there was nothing. Just darkness and relative silence.

Nothing.

A pain stabbed through her ocular cavities and through her head. She rubbed her temples exhaling a deep sigh. That is when something touched the back of her neck.

She flinched. An unseen hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, pressing an iron like grip on that pressure point. Raven winced as she attempted to stand and was pressed back down onto the stool. The thin cool touch at the back of her neck whistled past her ear and pressed now against her throat. She drew in a calming deep breath and whispered.

"Go ahead then. Do what you've come here to do." Her voice took on a cold menace. "Do it quickly."

The grip on her shoulder faultered. The blade at her throat slipped away. Grave mistake. She thought as her head slightly turned. The darkness is my ally as well.

Deep within her dark forces churned. Raven pierced that darkness and touched the fel beneath. Standing she turned sharply releasing a wave of tainted dark energy. Everything that was once behind her was now before her as she turned, and it all was thrust backward with a tremendous force.

The stool she sat upon splintered against the cave wall. Small furnishings bent and warped as they tumbled.

The moment while everything settled she scanned the debris for any sign of her assailant.
Nothing.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Behind me!

As she turned a hand grasped her wrist. She punched out but found her other wrist pinned as well. Her nimble mind flipped through a mental list of possible reactions, but before she chose her eyes finally caught a glimpse of her attacker.

Recognition poured over her mixing with incredulity as she gazed at the gnome figure standing before her cast in the strange green hues of her dark-light vision. Her tense muscles relaxed slightly, her brow drawing down into a confused glare.

"Ethel?" She whispered.

She released the grip on her wrists. She couldn't hardly believe it herself.

Since reuniting with Jillian (Tînk) recently in Thelsamar, and subsequently making off with a few of the items she had planned to steal anyway, the silent gnome's curiosity got the better of her. It was really good to reconnect with her sister, as short lived as it had been. Nevertheless the person she knew and loved growing up was still there, and she knew now that if there were ever a need she would have at least one person she could always fall back on for support. Now she needed to find her older sister, Lilith.

While not related by blood Lilith was always close to Ethel and Jilly. So close in age the pair of sisters were nearly twins and Lilith was their motherly older sister. Always concerned for them, sometimes bossy and pushy, but always protective. Being a few years older Lilith was usually the first of the three to enter into (and pass through) phases. Her wisdom and insight usually proved invaluable growing up.

She had a purpose and knew the value of the place she held. Then came puberty. Ethel grew strong and lithe while showing some latent developing affinity toward magic. Jillian was somewhat of a late bloomer but of them all she exhibited an almost preternatural grasp of the mysterious arcane forces.

Lilith never developed any sort of magical aptitude. In one fowl swoop over the space of almost two years she went from beloved, wise and insightful mother figure to just the 'untalented' older sister. It didn't occur to Ethel until several years later the effect that likely had on Lilith. She'd lost essentially everything that she identified with. She was now useless. Nothing. Surpassed in nearly every way by the two that looked up to her, that gave her meaning and purpose.

Lilith was crushed.

Life passed so swiftly. Each of them took their own paths. Ethel knew that Jillian would fair well, there was never any doubt and secretly she allowed that confidence to bleed over to Lilith. In the quiet corners of her mind however she worried, but life passed by carrying onward as it always did.

Things changed.

Thinking back Ethel never once thought she'd be where she was now. A specially trained... agent ...with a finely honed set of particular talents. She certainly never expected to live this long.
Jillian also was a specifically trained and highly talented mage who surely never saw herself steward over a successful business. A little prodding and it could become a fairly competitive tech company and engineering firm.
Where did that leave Lilith? She floundered from place to place seeking a new purpose. A drive. A reason. Last she'd heard her older sister was barely making ends meet as an associate of an enchanting shop in Stormwind. Looking at her now it was obvious her raven-haired beautiful sister had come a long way from then.

Pulling a small capsule from her belt pouch, Ethel tossed it into the circular stone fire pit. The tiny vial cracked, sparked, then flared to life. In another instant a small camp fire crackled among the remnants of the logs and coals. It's light gradually illuminated the small dark nook deep within the Serpent's Coil.

As light illuminated their features, Ethel pulled off the single ocular eyepiece strapped over one eye, which had helped her see in the deep darkness. She unbuckled the tall thick neck guard that also masked the bottom half of her face, and removed it.

The flickering light of the fire displayed the scarred deformity of her lower jaw and neck. Evidence of a childhood accident that stole her voice and nearly her life. An accident that Lilith was mostly responsible for, though she never held any animosity toward her beloved older sister. It was an accident after all.

There could be no mistake...

... it was her sister.

Raven's mind raced with questions. "What?... How?... Why?..." Yes, that's the question. Why.

"Why are you -here-?" She pointed down at the floor. "...in -this- cave. Now."

Raven breathed deeply, calming her anger. Soothing the agitation. She had expected something unexpected in coming here. Little was known about Blood Mages, other than they were generally disliked at best and shunned from their communities. At worse... well.... torches and pitchforks come to mind. Armed with this knowledge it would be understandable for Kasim to not take kindly to visitors, especially if unannounced, and so she had done her best to plan for whatever dangers she might encounter.

This. How could she ever plan for the appearance of a ghost from her past life. A life that was no longer her truth, but merely a mask. A mask that she hadn't been prepared to wear for this reunion, and try as she might to slip it back on Lilith just wouldn't stick.

The two stared uncomfortably at the other for a moment. Ethel wasn't prepared for this sort of welcoming either. This was a whole different face of Lilith she had never seen. This was Raven.

She repeated her question, doing her best to smooth over the danger in her tone but failing to do so completely. "Ethel, what are you -doing- here?"

Ethel blinked, regaining her senses. She slipped the neck guard back in place and buckled it, then her hands began working, speaking a silent language developed in part by deaf gnomish engineers. It was similar in other parts to the more common form used and developed by humans, but like racial tongues this style of hand signing was distinctly gnomish.

[I came... I came in search of you sister.] Raven's brow twisted in more confusion, a sight made all the more strange with lidless mechanical eyes. Ethel continued, attempting to clarify.

[I came across Jillian by accident a while ago. It felt good to reunite, and afterward I longed to see you again. Last I'd heard you were working in Stormwind...]

Ethel continued with her long tale of digging up clues and following leads.

[... and so now I'm here.] She signed rather innocently and direct, as if that was all there was too it.

"...and there you go? There you have it?" Raven responded sharply. Irritation boiled inside. "Do you have any idea what it is I'm doing here? Do you even know where -here- is?" She motioned to her surroundings.

Ethel nodded. [I arrived a short time before you and took the liberty of searching around.] She pulled out a small book from behind her belt, tossing it into Raven's hands. [This is dark place full of some nasty [expl*tive]. The one that called this place home...]

Her irritation tempered a bit, Raven turned the book over and opened its cover. "Kasim Sharim. A blood mage..." She gestured to the few furnishings left partially undisturbed with a glance. "...and apparently a fellow gnome."

[Blood magic.] Ethel signed with a grim expression. [That explains the large red crystal back there. Lilith, what have you gotten yourself into?]

Raven casually flipped through the small book's pages. "Fine time to show your concern for my well being, sister. I would ask the same of you, but it would seem rather obvious."

[I'm not here to judge. Only to reconnect. It's been a long time Lilith.]

Lilith. She almost loathed the sound of it. Lilith. She wondered if she should tell her. Tell her everything and gauge her reaction. A small flicker of fel delight danced deep within. No. She repressed the notion. If things went sideways then she'd have to... deal ... with her. Ethel was her sister after all and the notion was just too bitter.

Half truths then.

"It has Ethel. It really has. Forgive me but this is all too strange, running into you here. Like this." Wondering if she could really trust the truth present. "I'll level with you Eth. I'm into some dark things. Some dark magics."

[Magics?] Ethel looked confused, mixed with concern. [Since when did you....?]

"Some time ago. I... a mentor helped me realise my own talents."

[So this is like a fact finding mission then? Looking for clues on obscure topics of study?]

Raven smirked a little. "Yes, sister. Something like that." She closed the book and slipped it into her satchel. "This is a very interesting little book. I'll give it a more thorough combing later. Did you by change happen to find anything else?"

Ethel shook her head. "Confident you would have found it if there was something hidden." Ethel nodded. "That's good enough for me." For now. "Show me this red crystal."

After a short examination Raven folded her arms beneath her chest. "I think I know what this is." She glanced up to see Ethel watching her curiously. She signed.

[Your eyes. What happened?]

"Nothing..." that I'd like to talk about. "They were given to me... after... an accident. Of sorts."

[They're well constructed. Let me know if you'd ever like some augments. I might know someone.]

Raven noted the smirk in her expression, and immediately she knew of whom she spoke. "Jillian hadn't crossed my mind. I didn't know she was also into tinkering."

[We should take some time. Catch up.]
Raven glanced around the dark corners of the cave. "I have time now. I doubt the habitator will be returning anytime soon."

Hours passed as the two talked.

Stories were exchanged. Discoveries made. A few tears shed on Ethel's part as Raven could no longer cry, though the sentiment was shared. Laughs and chuckles passed between them.

At long last Raven had found someone she could confide with. A kindred soul that had been touched by darkness, to a point. There were things that she simply couldn't tell Ethel no matter how trustworthy she felt her little sister to be. Certain truths needed to remain secret for now. Others, forever.

Raven smiled across the small camp fire. "Sister, it's been good to talk with you. I'm glad you sought me out."
Ethel giggled silently. [And I'm glad you didn't banish me to the Ever-Dark.]
Raven nodded. "Me too."

[Warlock. Seriously. I would have never guessed... ]
"Just between you and me Ethel. Remember that. I mean it. Not even Jillian can know. Not until I tell her myself at least."
[No worries here. My fingers are sealed, oh dark master.] She signed mockingly before tucking her hands behind her belt.
The two shared a chuckle.

"Eth. I have a favor to ask." I have an idea. "You see, I am after a particular tome. A rather thick book that... I suspect... contains certain secrets I need."

Ethel sat up straight, suddenly looking very serious. The consummate professional that Raven had hoped she would be.

[How can I help?]

As payment for allowing her a space to stay for the time being Raven (or rather Lilith) agreed to do a few good deeds and help out with some menial tasks around Nethergarde Keep.

Two days after her reunion with Ethel deep within Serpent's Coil (of all places). While mucking the stables at around midday a courier found her delivering a small sealed tube. Not wanting to wait she abandoned her chore.

Raven sat on her bed in the Keep barracks. At this hour she was largely alone, aside from a few sleeping night shift workers. She glanced about to see if anyone was present and if they were paying attention. Thinking it fairly safe Raven popped the seal and opened the tube. From inside she pulled a coil of parchment which were neatly bound with a simple threading. The cut and printing was neat and very legible. She thought that it must have been printed from some type of gnomish data terminal, or the like. Atop was a simple letter penned by hand that read:

Studies and Observations. Two plans suggested. Require input and further instructions.

The letter was unsigned. Regardless, Raven knew from whom it came.

Eth. Dearest little sister. You are an efficient one. She mused to herself.

Hours passed as she poured over the thin booklet of research. Raven was beside herself. Not just a printed work up with detailed observations, she included detailed maps, measurements, timing, most everything to scale that she observed or encountered. Almost no detail was left unmentioned.

Efficient and thorough. She shook her head in amazement.

Another hour or so passed as she mentally worked over the details, walking herself through Ethel's two detailed plan suggestions. They were each meticulously planned, depending on strict timing and execution in order to succeed, and even then there was too large of a random element.

Conclave had hidden the main entrance to their Vault all too well. Lilith of course knew roughly where it was, but never having actually been inside it was difficult to pinpoint... apparently even for Ethel. In the time it would take her to do a thorough sweep someone could walk in on her and then it would all be for nothing.

No. There had to be a better way to find it. A faster, easier method...
The mental pages of rituals and spell formulae fluttered in her head. Quickly an idea formed. Something new that she had recently come across in the small book Ethel had found in Kasim's cave-home. While not exactly a 'book of spells' it did provide some interesting ideas, clues, and insights. One only needed to know how to disassemble the text.

The idea solidified in her mind as she slowly rolled the thin booklet. She fit it and the letter back into the tube. It was set. She had a slightly better plan. It was a risky idea, largely based on theory and assumptions. Raven was in a very secure place now, confident enough in her own abilities to be daring and try something radical and new but humble enough to not be reckless or careless in her methods and executions.

This particular method required an intricate mixture. Blood magic would form its base and structure. Shadow magic would be used to activate and implement all the intricate parts. Fel would bolster the effect and bind it all together. The diagrams and lengthy formulae were constructing in her mind as she slide off her bed.

She needed to make preparations and gather certain resources, namely the rather unique fel tainted bloods of the creatures near Nethergarde, for starters.

Tossing her cloak about her shoulders Raven tied the simple purple cloth around her neck and hefted her book satchel over a shoulder. On her way out she stole the hat of a man sleeping nearby and donned it. Her task was dangerous and much work laid ahead of her, but if everything went according to plan her care package (containing among a few other things her plan and instructions for Ethel) would be ready to send in another days' time.

It was a long harrowing day of hunting and collecting the materials she needed throughout the blasted lands. Not an easy task.

On more than one occasion Raven had nearly lost her life. The native boar population had been tainted by the same fel energies that had ruined the land at the onset of the first war, decades ago. This corruption provided an exciting twist. When properly provoked these creatures assumed a more demonic appearance, becoming much more deadly. The local Basilisks too were a creature to be cautious of.

The final ingredient in her concoction required a bit of tainted felhound blood, and she knew right where to find some. Her ever growing skill with shadow magics helped her avoid the larger demons and thanks to instruction garnered from Grimm's Dark Grimoire she had the tools she required to enslave the fel beast. Nonetheless it was a deadly challenge.

The felhound resisted mightily. Her shadow bolts had only a minor effect and the curses she placed, to her surprise, didn't last. She had read over a few entries about these creatures in the dark grimoire and so was aware of their penchant for eating magics. Had she studied harder she would have been better prepared.

It took every bit of her mental and physical faculties to remain one step ahead of the demon. Again and again she slung fresh curses of agony and enfeeblement, distracted it with blasts of shadow bolts and hurled gouts of imps fire to singe its coarse hair. Enraged and off balance, the beast provided just the opening she required. In the end Raven out maneuvered the infernal creature, and just in time.

Enslaved, Raven wasted no time dominating the creature. When it was at last totally and utterly hers to command a small pack of felhounds on the prowl came upon them. Mounting the hound as it were a felsteed the pair fled from the demon infested desolation surrounding the dark portal, outrunning the pack and escaping with their lives.

In a quiet corner near the burnt out ruins of what might have been a settlement once upon a time, Raven extracted the blood required from her now faithful demon hound. An inquiry of the Dark Grimoire revealed the necessary rituals to discover the hounds demonic name and bind it to her will, sealing its enslavement and perfecting its domination.

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As the sun set on the end of that day, Raven dismissed her newly acquired faithful hound back from whence it came knowing that at any time she could summon the beast when needed. After all, it simply wouldn't do to try and enter Nethergarde Keep with a fel hound in tow.

Her preparations finished, Raven slipped back into her guise and quietly re-entered the Keep as Lilith. Hiding in plain sight. The gnome packaged her implements, which included a curiously crafted set of blood crystals fashioned specifically for her dearest sister.

One of the pair of blood crystals simply needed to be placed on an unsuspecting person. Slipped into a pocket, placed behind the belt, dropped down a blouse, it didn't matter so long as it was in their possession. The other is held while reciting an enchantment, then crushed against the flesh of the chest over the heart. Those were the simple instructions.

Based on her study of the large bloodstone found in Kasim's cave-hovel, the effect would essentially transport the user via blood magic to the paired crystal just as Kasim's crystal transported the user to a hidden bloodstone outside the orc patrolled serpentine cave. Doing so usually produced a rather gruesome result.

Ethel needed only find a worker that would be inside the vault. Lilith grinned wickedly to herself, lamenting that she wouldn't be there to witness the implementation of her work. Ethel trusted her implicitly and because of this Lilith hadn't bothered warning her of the bloody aftereffect, nor the strange disorientation she'd likely experience. She didn't want to spook her dearest sister out of a sure-fire way of gaining entry. This way she was sure to bypass all the magical wards and the lock entirely, tripping alarms only upon her exit.

By the time help arrived she was certain Ethel would be long gone.

The only thing before her was to choose a courier. Once again the Dark Grimoire had an answer, and the name it came with was Ward Chaser. In an empty corner of the Keep she recited the summons and swiftly it appeared.

Was it an imp? Was it a gnome? Perhaps a goblin at one time? It was difficult to tell.

The taint of fel magic was obvious, as it appeared twisted and demonic in nature, yet it wasn't a demon and therefore could not be enslaved. The power it wielded in her presence was pure and untainted. Arcane, unlike anything Lilith had yet to experience.

Ward Chaser spoke in riddles and in the third person explaining that it could be employed for specific tasks only by contract. It seemed very suspicious of Lilith, evading questions and guarding covetously a large sack that it carried over its shoulder. It eye'd the gnome carefully before deciding to deliver her small package. Payment was always in the form of a trade. In this case it was a favor for a favor, so Lilith would be in its debt.

With the swipe of its finger it seemed to part the fabric of reality, creating a faintly glowing portal to some other place. It quickly stepped through with an eerie chuckle and the portal was gone.

Her work in the Blasted Lands was finished. She hadn't discovered the item she was sent to collect by the Witch of Il'Galar, Vallalor, nor had she found the blood mage Kasim Sharim. Her initial purpose for coming to the Blasted Lands was a dismal failure.

Raven had however come away with a few things. She reunited with an old and dear friend, a sister but not by blood, who provided a solution for a long unresolved matter. She had obtained a small journal of sorts that looks to have been left by Kasim, though it does not bare his name. Its study provided much needed insight into blood magic, providing a suitable introduction of sorts. She had advanced her practice of shadow and blood magics, as well as her curse-work, while obtaining a new pet... of sorts.

Though a dismal failure, she had grown and was coming away with so much more. Some would call it a success, but she wouldn't allow herself even that slightest delusion. A failure was a failure no matter how you colored it. What she needed now was to figure a way to turn her loss into a win.

Sitting with her back against the flat cold stone wall of the keep upon her lower bunk, she cradled her master's grimoire in the darkness. The room was nearly filled with sleeping individuals. Worker and guard alike snorted and snored. Though crowded as it was, she felt secure enough to meditate. A thick dark blindfold masked her mechanical lidless eyes, preventing their faint illumination from betraying her.

As she relaxed, mentally chanting rhyme she had concocted in demonic, she felt her careful practiced restraint loosen. No longer did she need to reach so deeply within herself to awaken the darkness within. No longer was there a need to pierce that darkness to reveal the fel energies hiding at its core. It all now churned within her. A gloriously chaotic storm of power straining for release. It was all there, under her control. All she needed do was relinquish that firm grip.

No doors needed to be opened, no pathways to connect. The chaos within knew its own way out. It only needed her permission. A permission given as easily as a master loosening the chained leash of a massive ravenous beast.

Noting the difference between then and now it was easy to feel so accomplished. To be proud of all the progress she had made as a warlock. Just as with her failure, she would not allow herself to be diluted into believing she was anything but a novice. She had a mastery over herself, over the powers churning and expanding within, certainly, but this was only a recent achievement. She still very much lacked the iron will exhibited by her beloved master, the Grim One. If she didn't remain ever vigilant, it would be a simple thing for her to lose control and then what? Horrible things would happen that she didn't intend. Her cover would be blown and she'd forever become an outcast.

Being a warlock was to be alone. Those that knew would always be suspicious and careful. Those that grew close would always be in danger of the unseen and unknown. Even her would be peers were contentious and duplicitous. Her Grim Master and the Witch of Il'Galar were the only other warlocks she'd yet known, and each had provided ample teachings to this inherent danger.

Comfort was an illusion, trust a fleeting luxury. She was in just as much danger of being consumed by other warlocks as she was the demonic powers she struggled to master. For so long she had existed on the edge of a blade. An existence with which she was becoming accustomed.

Raven's mind drifted as she meditated. The shadow within filtered out into the room, spreading thin and becoming one with the natural darkness. Her mechanical eyes no longer served a purpose, and so she disengaged their use. She saw so much more now. Sensed the environment around her becoming acutely aware of the the life of each sleeping individual, the placement of each object and personal artifact, the temperature and disturbance of the very air. Everything that the darkness touched made itself known to her. She wondered, marveling a moment, if this was a type of omniscience. She had not the strength to extend much further than this sleeping chamber... but soon.

The grimoire, cradled in her lap, called to her and she suddenly became aware of its presence. Physically it was in her lap, but its influence reached much further. Just how far she couldn't tell, but in that moment it became something more that just a book.

Truly, she had always known this. It had never been just a mere book to her, but now it was a fact that she didn't simple accept. She understood it, not in its entirety but in part. It was clearly alive. It had a will of its own, a force of its own. In a manner it even had a voice all its own. She heard that voice now as she had so long ago in Darkshire, though she thought it only in her dreams.

It reminded her of her failed purpose for coming to the Blasted Lands. Beckoning onward, Raven traced her purpose back to Redridge. To the Witch of Il'Galar. The one named Vallalor. The gnome was reminded that the woman in the tower was a warlock. Her mind replayed moments of her time spent in the tower and of the lessons and teaching she had received from her peer. Small inconsistencies began to arise. Minor curiosities at the time that eluded her suddenly became poignant discrepancies.

A clearer image of this would be teacher and so called friend began to emerge. Lilith hadn't fully trusted her before, but was more than willing to accept the truths displayed before her. Lilith was naive and a fool. Raven was a different being. Now a little less naive and much aware.

The Witch of Il'Galar wasn't what she seemed. She was something much worse. A devious and dangerous creton. A warlock who deliberately preyed on other warlocks. Visions of histories long past displayed in her mind's eye, conjured forth by the grimoire's dark entity. The blink of an eye stretched into hours as it schooled her, showing her the many faces of the warlocks whose lives Vallalor had not just cut short but had claimed.

To be a warlock was to be many things, but even these have some form of standards. There are some line which should never be crossed, though unspoken they remain. Competition was often feirce and deadly. Internal strife and conflict was accepted and even expected to a degree. Warlocks slaying each other for knowledge, for power, was nothing new; distasteful as it is. But cannibalism of this sort would not, could not, be conceded.

Raven's blood boiled.

Something in the room shifted. Her meditation broke. Remnants of her shadowy tendrils remained in the darkness and using these she peered at her surroundings. A sleeping man in the bunk across from her had stirred and shifted in his bed. He had turned over and was now peering across the room at her. She could even read the man's expression. He was confused, awakening from his sleep induced stupor.

Quickly she pulled back her shadow magic and re-energized her mechanical eyes. The now familiar ping of them powering on rang through her head. An image of the world she knew came quickly into focus, much the same as any other person opening their eyes. Green light glowed brightly from the grimoire in her lap, illuminating her bed space (and herself) in the sickly fel hue. She glanced around the room noticing how it shone as bright as a lit torch, casting much of the room in varying shades of fel green.

Perhaps it was a condition of her communication, or it could be a manifestation of the grimoire's entity. Whatever it was she had to stop it before the man came fully awake. Before the whole room was awakened.

Quickly Raven pulled her covers over the book, but that did little to mute its greenbrilliance. She shoved it into the book satchel beside her, but still the light pierced the bags cloth lining. It wasn't working. Nothing was working. She shoved the book satchel under her covers and sat on it, glancing furiously around for something else to put it in or put on top.

The man grunted quietly on the bunk above her. The man across from her was sitting up now. Even in the darkness Raven could sense the man's alarm. Someone's voice moaned laden with sleep from the darkened chamber.

"What's going on..." was all she needed to hear a man mutter. Her cover was about to be blown. Enough men were stirring that soon the whole room would be awake. These men knew what such a sickly green light heralded, and they wouldn't be hesitant to pick up arms and charge in swinging like mad either.

This was it. She had to act. There was nothing to be done about it.