((A bit of a branch-off from a post in "Cruel Words, Cruel Intent": http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/18132724884?page=4#69 ))
Kitrik the Assassin crept quietly through the courtyard of Saavedar, an injector gun in his hand...as he approached the fortress' great hall, flanked on each side by two banners - the red and gold of Silvermoon, and the white and blue of House Ketiron. He had gone to Da Doctas, at their clinic in Orgrimmar, for a solution to this problem - a problem that had festered since the death of the Lady Areinnye at the hands of the late, unlamented Rakeri Sputterspark. Well, almost unlamented, he thought, thinking of the warlock's sister, Marennia. But Thek'la's vision indicated she would not be a problem...
The person he had found at the clinic, an elf named Sidonwy, had provided him with just what he had needed, after he had explained the problem - and his intended solution. "You realize he will not thank you for it," Sidonwy had said.
"No," Kitrik had agreed. "But fate willing, he will forgive me for it."
He had only told Thek'la and Lazhna of his plan; the latter was waiting with her guard to take him home. Thek'la had gone to Silvermoon, to prepare the House's estate for him...and for the side effects that Sidonwy had warned him of.
He stood at the threshold, hesitating between the ice and snow of Frostfire and the inner darkness of Ketiron's sanctum...and let out a sigh. He's killing himself, he thought, as he had said to Sidonwy when he left, and I'll be damned if I let him. He made his choice.
He entered, seeing Ketiron leaned over his chart table. He looked up at sensing the movement...and frowned. "Kitrik. Any news on the gnome?"
"No, General," Kitrik said, raising his goggles so that the elf could see his eyes. "And there will not be any. I'm not going after her."
Ketiron's eyes narrowed. "You're what?"
"I'm not going after the gnome...and you are not staying here another moment." Tears welled up in Kitrik's eyes. "I'm sorry...but I can't watch you do this anymore." With a burst of his rocket belt, he leapt at Ketiron, the momentum knocking the surprised blood elf onto his back. Then he put the injector gun to Ketiron's neck, injecting the sedative chemicals.
"You...wretched little...traitor..." Ketiron began to fade. "What have..."
"It's a knockout potion. When you wake up, you will be back home." Kitrik let the tears of shame fall. "Damn you for forcing me to do this, Taeril'hane. But it's for your own good."
"You...bast..." Ketiron's face was a mask of drugged rage...before he finally slipped into unconsciousness. A shadow fell over the doorway, and Kitrik looked up. It was Lazhna Trueflight, her expression stoic. "Take him home," the goblin said simply.
Lazhna nodded, and led her guards in to carry their unconscious general...
Kitrik the Assassin crept quietly through the courtyard of Saavedar, an injector gun in his hand...as he approached the fortress' great hall, flanked on each side by two banners - the red and gold of Silvermoon, and the white and blue of House Ketiron. He had gone to Da Doctas, at their clinic in Orgrimmar, for a solution to this problem - a problem that had festered since the death of the Lady Areinnye at the hands of the late, unlamented Rakeri Sputterspark. Well, almost unlamented, he thought, thinking of the warlock's sister, Marennia. But Thek'la's vision indicated she would not be a problem...
The person he had found at the clinic, an elf named Sidonwy, had provided him with just what he had needed, after he had explained the problem - and his intended solution. "You realize he will not thank you for it," Sidonwy had said.
"No," Kitrik had agreed. "But fate willing, he will forgive me for it."
He had only told Thek'la and Lazhna of his plan; the latter was waiting with her guard to take him home. Thek'la had gone to Silvermoon, to prepare the House's estate for him...and for the side effects that Sidonwy had warned him of.
He stood at the threshold, hesitating between the ice and snow of Frostfire and the inner darkness of Ketiron's sanctum...and let out a sigh. He's killing himself, he thought, as he had said to Sidonwy when he left, and I'll be damned if I let him. He made his choice.
He entered, seeing Ketiron leaned over his chart table. He looked up at sensing the movement...and frowned. "Kitrik. Any news on the gnome?"
"No, General," Kitrik said, raising his goggles so that the elf could see his eyes. "And there will not be any. I'm not going after her."
Ketiron's eyes narrowed. "You're what?"
"I'm not going after the gnome...and you are not staying here another moment." Tears welled up in Kitrik's eyes. "I'm sorry...but I can't watch you do this anymore." With a burst of his rocket belt, he leapt at Ketiron, the momentum knocking the surprised blood elf onto his back. Then he put the injector gun to Ketiron's neck, injecting the sedative chemicals.
"You...wretched little...traitor..." Ketiron began to fade. "What have..."
"It's a knockout potion. When you wake up, you will be back home." Kitrik let the tears of shame fall. "Damn you for forcing me to do this, Taeril'hane. But it's for your own good."
"You...bast..." Ketiron's face was a mask of drugged rage...before he finally slipped into unconsciousness. A shadow fell over the doorway, and Kitrik looked up. It was Lazhna Trueflight, her expression stoic. "Take him home," the goblin said simply.
Lazhna nodded, and led her guards in to carry their unconscious general...
