World of Warcraft®

Such delicious nagas... a terrible shame that Rhudran has gone into hiding. Now I'll need to cut open someone else to satisfy my hunger. But just who could I kill was the question? Who could I slice, devour and leave behind? So many choices...

Naturally I would choose someone that was such a great figure to those he was a family within; a dead Homelander would be... fitting. But an odd developement...

It seems this single Horde fighter... gave his heart to an elven woman of Darnassus.

Beautiful. Wonderful. Agonizingly delectable. Perfection to his eyes. Food to mine!

I can just imagine her screams as I rend her flesh, strip it down to the bone and decimate her. The elf will survive, of course; I -always- leave bodies, but souls... no, souls are mine.

Rhudran can wait. I have my prey now... pray to whatever gods you believe in, Viviannie Silverglade... I will silence your screams before they can come to your aid.

Nagas rakkan rakir!

((eep...lol))

It was shortly past midnight when Caer'ias Aeddan was woken up, sharply, by a sharp knock at the door.

"Go away!" the archaeologist-mage stammered, half-asleep, "Can't you see I need my...uh...my beauty rest?" Within seconds, the mage was snoring again.

The second knock at the door was not so much a knock as it was a kick. The kick happened to possess force enough to knock the door to Aeddan's room in the longhouse not only open, but cleanly off its hinges. A spiky, armor-clad figured stormed into the room, his visage frightful to behold since it was hidden behind a dark facemask.

"D-Deathwing - ?" Aeddan stammered, in horror, "N-now, if this is about that just slightly exaggerated tavern story I told a few months ago, uh, there might have been a few inaccuracies - ! Can't we just be reasonable about - ?"

Aeddan shrieked as a saronite-covered hand reached forward, yanking him sharply out of bed by his ear.

"HEY!" Aeddan shrieked, "That's sensitive! Who do you think you are? I am Assistant Professor Caer'ias Aeddan of the Silvermoon Reliquary! I have friends in high places! I'll...I'll turn you into a sheep!"

Bron "Drakehide" Emberwing dragged Aeddan, still by the ear, out into the dim light of the longhouse's common room, glaring at him. It took Aeddan's eyes a couple seconds to adjust, but he breathed a sigh of relief...sort of...when he realized it was only Drakehide.

"Now, look, you!" Aeddan snapped, indignantly, "Y-you can't just go around yanking on people's ears! It's rude! A fellow might take offense at - !"

"You are going on a little trip, Caer'ias," Drakehide interrupted, "Right now."

The warrior handed Aeddan a sheet of parchment, tied into a roll, and glared daggers at the archaeologist.

"Open this when you are at a safe distance. It will tell you your destination. If you tell a soul where you are going, I will kill you. If you bring anyone along other than Jennings, I will kill you. If you fail to arrive in a timely manner, I will kill you. If you do not follow the instructions in this letter TO the letter - "

"You'll kill me?" Aeddan gulped.

"Finally catching on," Drakehide smirked.

The saronite-clad warrior picked up Aeddan by the collar of his robes, grabbed Aeddan's flying carpet, stuffed both of them under an arm, and then stormed back into Aeddan's room and grabbed Jennings.

"Wh-what is the meaning of this, Drakehide-creature?" the clockwork gnome stammered, "When robot overlords rule the world, you will greatly regret your actions - !"

Drakehide stormed towards the entrance of the longhouse. He kicked this door, too, open - fortunately, not off its hinge - and hurled the bundle of elf, carpet, and gnome out onto the longhouse's lawn. Aeddan and Jennings, from where they landed, simply glanced up very stunned, and very confused.

"WELL?!?" Drakehide snarled, "What are you waiting for?!? GO!"

Aeddan hopped onto the carpet with a girlish shriek, snatching Jennings up from the ground and cradled the little clockwork creature in his arms as their rug began to ascend.

"It's okay, Jennings," Aeddan stammered, "I'll take care of you!"

Jennings grumbled, clearly unimpressed at being trapped in the archaeologist's grasp.

"Idiot flesh-creature," Jennings snarled.

After a few seconds hovering up, up, up, once the longhouse had disappeared, and the way seemed safe, Aeddan finally unfurled the parchment.

"I wonder what's got Drakey back there in such a - ?" Aeddan's jaw dropped as he read the message from Drake, in its entirety, which revealed not only a destination for Aeddan and Jennings, but...a plethora of new, horrible problems for Homeland and for Azeroth. "Oh, no...come, Jennings! We must find Keedriel! Quickly! Time is of the essence!"

((FYI, "Caer'ias" IS in Homeland, kind of. xD "Caer'ias" and "Aeddan" are two alts I have representing the same character, Caerias Aeddan. "Aeddan" at this time has been in Homeland since the summer, still haven't gotten around to getting "Caer'ias" added. ^^; Sorry for any confusion that might arise from this.))

The task was finished. Not only was the task finished, but Aeddan was now experiencing sobriety and the hangover that came with it. Such a curse, only being able to cast effective spells under the influence...

The letter had told Aeddan that after his task was complete, he was to meet Drakehide again, at Bladefist Bay. It was still very early in the morning, and the docks were silent. The archaeologist tiptoed his way to the pier, glancing around nervously. Jennings was unusually quiet - since, after all, he'd earlier been stabbed point-blank and forced into thermal shutdown. The poor little clockwork gnome would require some repairs, when all this was done.

Aeddan glanced out at the water. No ships, no waves, no rampaging water elementals, just...quiet. Too quiet.

"Well," he declared, as he shrugged at no one in particular, "My work here is done. The job is finished, I came to the pier, and now I'm going home to a stiff drink, my warm bed, my goblin and - !"

The archaeologist felt the point of a saronite short sword against his back and stiffened in terror.

"H-hey!" Aeddan stammered, "Watch it with that thing! Wh-who's there?"

"Is it done?" Drakehide demanded, sharply.

Aeddan blinked, an eye twitching in confusion and frustration.

"Y-you're wearing PLATE! How did you sneak up on me?"

"Caer'ias, I do not have time for this."

"It doesn't even make sense! How is it even physically possible? Mail, surely not doable, as it jingles, and leather, perhaps, aside from light cracking or bending sounds, cloth most certainly, but one would think the aggravating ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk of plate would make it virtually impossible for anyone wearing that much saronite to sneak up on - !"

"CAAAAAAER'IAAAAAS!" Drakehide bellowed. The archaeologist mage ran a few paces away, shaking and quivering in terror.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the blood elf whimpered, "It's done already! He's all better! Mostly. Sort of. But it's the BEST you're going to get out of me! Now, put that...that little toy sword of yours away before you HURT somebody!"

Drakehide approached, his facial expression unreadable behind the facemask. His sword was still in his hand. Aeddan closed his eyes, and cowered behind his hands, expecting to be smote.

A warm, saronite-plated hand rested approvingly on Caer'ias' shoulder. The mage blinked, and opened his eyes to Drakehide. Most of the facial expression was still shrouded by the facemask, but...the warrior's eyes were smiling.

"Well done," Drakehide nodded, "I will contact you again, I am sure, before all this is over. Keep your hearthstone on."

The warrior turned, and stalked off down the dock, and across Durotar's rocky surface on foot. When Drakehide was out of sight - completely out of sight - Aeddan breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Well, I'm glad that's over with," the mage mumbled.

((Note: This post is written from the point of view of Tarpit, Mialera's Imp))

Quiet... Goddess is much too quiet.

She seems to have lost her focus upon Silverglade. Though she had turned to her briefly, the strike alone on Keedriel seems to have taken her fury down, briefly. Yet, she holds back on her word... curious. What does Goddess wait for, I wonder? Unless...

Oh... oh-hoh! Well why wouldn't she... it would explain Sywena's disappearance, yes. Goddess makes quite an inventive mind... well, if the girl had a weak mind at least. If not, well... Gooddess has easily made her army obediant. I wouldn't be surprised if she rushed to the-

"TARPIT!"

GAH! Y-Yes Goddess? What is your word, my queen and mistress?

"You will follow the Son of Rukh. Every step he takes. Every breath he feels. Every path he follows. You will find these for me, and report back."

G-Goddess? Why him?

"Do -not- question me Tarpit."

Yes Goddess! Of course goddess!

I sigh heavily... this doesn't make sense. Homelanders pose no threat to her, and she has no true reason to strike at him. So why change targets...? I can only wonder.

((...uh oh. xD Just when I thought Drake couldn't get himself into any MORE trouble. ^^))