It wasn't there, but Cyrus could feel its presence. As the Ocheliad arrived one by one at his call, he was going over how he'd wound up in a fortress of Vrykul...
Looking down into what seemed like an abyss atop Icecrown Citadel, Cyrus could not see what he was looking for. A weapon that he had poured his very soul into creating had been lost in the war the Presidium less than a year ago, but the pieces appeared to have been taken.
Just as Cyrus began to doubt this feeling he had, he saw it. The body of a Vrykul was impaled on the saronite spikes below, turning the gears in Cyrus's memory. There had been a fortress full of the damn humanoids during the war in Northrend. Those things had to have discovered the broken weapon...
"Sir?"
Sergeant Haelolin had broken his train of thought, and he glanced back over his shoulder. She, along with Lyov, Skeeven, Pharina, Aziriel and Wellian had all arrived, and were awaiting orders.
Cyrus turned to face them, motioning behind him. "A weapon lost to the Presidium's attacks was abandoned not long ago. These Vrykul have recovered it in a time where it may be needed to fight the Ocheliad's enemies. You are to reclaim it!" His voice resounded off the high walls, and several Vrykul took notice that foreigners had been teleported into their stronghold, a few of them even getting up the nerve to investigate. Cyrus kept his eyes on the assembled Ocheliad.
"We're not leaving witnesses. Neither the Horde, nor the Presidium or Terrans are to know what we are going to find here tonight. Go." With that, the gathered force scattered to ask what Lyov called 'pointed questions' of the Vrykul.
Cyrus himself would not take part, as he also wanted to see what this group was capable of without his assistance. Once or twice, he'd had to pull a Vrykul off Wellian, who would literally bite off more than he could chew, but the group as a whole did well to interrogate, though only one returned with the results Cyrus had hoped for.
**********
While many of the Ocheliad had returned with physical evidence of their 'pointed questions', Haelolin had returned with a softly-glowing blue axe head.
"One of them had... this..." Haelolin had managed to say before offering the blade to Cyrus. The moment he had the prize firmly in his hand, Haelolin took a knee to catch her breath. Cyrus knew better than to think the Vrykul had caused this much trouble for Haelolin, and his suspicions were confirmed when she seemed to recover quickly after having held the blade. It had clearly been sapping her strength.
Unseen on the outside, the same was happening to Cyrus, who hastily drew the hilt from his back and firmly attached it to the recovered blade. With a firm 'click', the hilt seemed almost conscious as it wrapped itself around the section of axehead behind the blade. He'd taken the opportunity to hold the weapon by the hilt, but he still felt sluggish as the weapon worked to bond itself to Cyrus's lifeforce like a wieldable parasite.
Nodding to Haelolin, Cyrus instructed Pharina to see her to the medical ward as a portal was drawn to help the Ocheliad escape the area. Cyrus had never been a fan of mage magics, so he'd opted to call down his drake to get him out.
**********
Flying farther south in Icecrown, the axe hissed quietly, and Cyrus's vision whited out. "What i-", he'd begun to say before he lost his balance, falling from the drake at a decent altitude. Unable to catch him, the drake lost sight of Cyrus as he plummeted down into a fortunately high mound of snow. He still suffered a dislocated shoulder, but Cyrus was thankful it hadn't been much worse.
He lay there for a moment, on his back, the chill of that icy world sinking into his bones. Only after a full minute or so did he realize he could hear the hiss of his weapon.
"I... cannot allow my vessel to be damaged, no...." He heard clearly.
A faint, black smoke snaked its way from the weapon until it began to take form above Cyrus. A pair of glowing blue orbs peeked out from the faint, slim cloud, entrancing Cyrus. He had no idea why he felt so trapped in this being's eyes. Soon, a mouth opened, full of sharpened and white teeth, the ends of the mouth stretching easily to both sides of its 'head'. At least, the smoke was now taking a sort of humanoid form from the waist up, the bottom attached to his newly-claimed weapon.
Looking down into what seemed like an abyss atop Icecrown Citadel, Cyrus could not see what he was looking for. A weapon that he had poured his very soul into creating had been lost in the war the Presidium less than a year ago, but the pieces appeared to have been taken.
Just as Cyrus began to doubt this feeling he had, he saw it. The body of a Vrykul was impaled on the saronite spikes below, turning the gears in Cyrus's memory. There had been a fortress full of the damn humanoids during the war in Northrend. Those things had to have discovered the broken weapon...
"Sir?"
Sergeant Haelolin had broken his train of thought, and he glanced back over his shoulder. She, along with Lyov, Skeeven, Pharina, Aziriel and Wellian had all arrived, and were awaiting orders.
Cyrus turned to face them, motioning behind him. "A weapon lost to the Presidium's attacks was abandoned not long ago. These Vrykul have recovered it in a time where it may be needed to fight the Ocheliad's enemies. You are to reclaim it!" His voice resounded off the high walls, and several Vrykul took notice that foreigners had been teleported into their stronghold, a few of them even getting up the nerve to investigate. Cyrus kept his eyes on the assembled Ocheliad.
"We're not leaving witnesses. Neither the Horde, nor the Presidium or Terrans are to know what we are going to find here tonight. Go." With that, the gathered force scattered to ask what Lyov called 'pointed questions' of the Vrykul.
Cyrus himself would not take part, as he also wanted to see what this group was capable of without his assistance. Once or twice, he'd had to pull a Vrykul off Wellian, who would literally bite off more than he could chew, but the group as a whole did well to interrogate, though only one returned with the results Cyrus had hoped for.
**********
While many of the Ocheliad had returned with physical evidence of their 'pointed questions', Haelolin had returned with a softly-glowing blue axe head.
"One of them had... this..." Haelolin had managed to say before offering the blade to Cyrus. The moment he had the prize firmly in his hand, Haelolin took a knee to catch her breath. Cyrus knew better than to think the Vrykul had caused this much trouble for Haelolin, and his suspicions were confirmed when she seemed to recover quickly after having held the blade. It had clearly been sapping her strength.
Unseen on the outside, the same was happening to Cyrus, who hastily drew the hilt from his back and firmly attached it to the recovered blade. With a firm 'click', the hilt seemed almost conscious as it wrapped itself around the section of axehead behind the blade. He'd taken the opportunity to hold the weapon by the hilt, but he still felt sluggish as the weapon worked to bond itself to Cyrus's lifeforce like a wieldable parasite.
Nodding to Haelolin, Cyrus instructed Pharina to see her to the medical ward as a portal was drawn to help the Ocheliad escape the area. Cyrus had never been a fan of mage magics, so he'd opted to call down his drake to get him out.
**********
Flying farther south in Icecrown, the axe hissed quietly, and Cyrus's vision whited out. "What i-", he'd begun to say before he lost his balance, falling from the drake at a decent altitude. Unable to catch him, the drake lost sight of Cyrus as he plummeted down into a fortunately high mound of snow. He still suffered a dislocated shoulder, but Cyrus was thankful it hadn't been much worse.
He lay there for a moment, on his back, the chill of that icy world sinking into his bones. Only after a full minute or so did he realize he could hear the hiss of his weapon.
"I... cannot allow my vessel to be damaged, no...." He heard clearly.
A faint, black smoke snaked its way from the weapon until it began to take form above Cyrus. A pair of glowing blue orbs peeked out from the faint, slim cloud, entrancing Cyrus. He had no idea why he felt so trapped in this being's eyes. Soon, a mouth opened, full of sharpened and white teeth, the ends of the mouth stretching easily to both sides of its 'head'. At least, the smoke was now taking a sort of humanoid form from the waist up, the bottom attached to his newly-claimed weapon.
Edited by Çyrus on 3/22/2012 11:48 AM PDT
