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A letter was sent back to Lahkin in Aerie Peak:

You must think me for an idiot if you think I am going to fall for that. The last time I attempted to set foot outside the Hold, your Terran lackeys assaulted me, along with your duplicitous priestess friend. It is only by the grace of your "loyal comrade" seeing common sense, seeing what manner of monster you truly harbor, that you are not sending this to me in the Stockade.

Gondorin has told me of his little chat with your Forsaken friend...while I am inclined to take his word that she is no spy, she is still my enemy. And she's dead - permanently - if I see her again. I would humbly suggest she says out of my way if she values remaining along the mobile. So...no. I will not meet with you. Not now, not ever. Nor will I leave the sanctuary of the Ebon Hold until it has been deemed safe for me to do so, where I will not be hampered by you, or Gentyl, or Genevra, or any of you blind idiots who cannot see what is necessary.

In the end, as Gondorin has shown me, I must be patient. This incident in Andorhal was partly a result of my own impatience to return to the battle that must be prosecuted against the Horde; I will not make that mistake again. As I was reminded, I am functionally immortal. All of us, we knights of Acherus, are immortal. When you and your descendants are long dead, they will be little more than dust - and we will remain. I can afford to wait.

Believe in our destiny.

Baron Artimus Devaneaux

((This is late and it is done from memory, but I don't have time to respond to every post. This should pretty much catch pia up, I hope.))

Devaneaux had met with Finnaeus in the tower before he went to see Genevra and get some information from her regarding Nynra.

He had asked to be able to post a notice to the guards regarding the forsaken priestess. Gentyl had amended it, much to his dismay. We can gather information on her and notify the Watch where she is, we have no authority to arrest her or harm her. His eyes blazed with anger. "You certainly had authority to detain Zherron."

"Because he had attacked our people, was obviously possessed and leaving him run free would have certainly resulted in more injuries or even death. He had to hold him for our safety and his until the control was broken. There is a difference. As much as I dislike her twisting what was said in the council and announcing it to the horde, she hasn't harmed anyone."

Devaneaux flexed his hands in irritation, but said no more.

"Find out what Genevra knows about this situation," Finn said. "But don't stir up anything with them."

Gentyl poured another cup of tea. "Please. We're just now getting to where we have a decent working relation with them again. Elise has done a great job as an emissary. Don't screw up her work or put her in danger."

"I will handle it delicately," Devaneaux assured.

Gentyl took another sip of tea. "Make sure you do. That is an order. Just get the information so we can figure out what's going on."Finn was with her when they received the first message. Devaneaux had threatened to kill Genevra. "That's his idea of handling it delicately?"

"Cripes," Gentyl spat. "Did he go there with the deliberate intention of destroying everything we have worked to build? I'll go there and see if I can find out exactly what happened. You see if you can find that idiot. Then find someone from the watch and have him arrested."

"Arrested?"

"Yes. We certainly don't need him attacking anyone. If he did threaten her and she stubs her delicate toe it will be blamed on Pia. I don't want Pia hung out to dry for something we didn't do. This would be a very bad time for Genevra or that rotter priestess of hers to get hurt."

Narnicka and Zherron were there with Genevra when Gen arrived. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, Narnicka blasted her. Odd that threatening to kill Genevra was against the law, but Narnicka threatening to kill people was not only apparently lawful, but backed up by he military.

"Are you making these threats as a concerned husband or a military commander?"

"I'm telling you as a concerned husband. If that doesn't work I will swear he threatened the family of a military officer."

She made note of the words Devaneaux had threatened Genevra because he believed she had something to do with the disappearance of Saavedro. Gentyl knew how close they were. That had been the trigger, just as Narnicka was now pushing her buttons. It was also worth noting Narnicka had no qualms manipulating his position as a military man to bring down Devaneaux if it didn't work from a civilian point of view. He had just shown his true colors. His army was for his personal use. It hadn't taken long to turn into a warlord.

"And tell me, Narnicka, has your army tracked down the forsaken wretch that is feeding information to the horde or is that none of your concern?"

"That's none of your business," Genevra snapped.

Of course it wasn't. The wretch could get entire troops wiped out depending on what kind of information she was feeding them, but that wasn't anyone's business just because Pia was usually on the front lines of defense and attacks.

The conversation degenerated from there until Zherron threatened to kill Deveaneaux and put him in many boxes. Once again, odd how that worked. Devaneaux threatened to kill Genevra and it was against the law and brought down the force of Narnicka's army. Narnicka and Zherron threatening to kill people was justified.

Two things were clear. Devaneaux had threatened to kill Genevra if he found out she had anything to do with the possible death of the missing Saavedro and Narnicka's army might very possibly be used for personal goals. The horde couldn't have done a better job of splintering the alliance.

No one from the watch had been available that night to arrest Devaneaux, so they would file the complaint in the morning. The watch was still not available the next morning so Gentyl called a group of Pia Guards together to capture Devaneaux and hold him until they could turn him over. Luckily the Commander was at sea. His solution would have been to take the man out in the field an beat him to a pulp. Gentyl wasn't sure the Tenth Legion methods of discipline didn't have some merit.

Devaneaux appeared at the stockades like she requested. The Guards surrounded him.

Devaneaux had met with Finnaeus in the tower before he went to see Genevra and get some information from her regarding Nynra.

He had asked to be able to post a notice to the guards regarding the forsaken priestess. Gentyl had amended it, much to his dismay. We can gather information on her and notify the Watch where she is, we have no authority to arrest her or harm her. His eyes blazed with anger. "You certainly had authority to detain Zherron."

"Because he had attacked our people, was obviously possessed and leaving him run free would have certainly resulted in more injuries or even death. He had to hold him for our safety and his until the control was broken. There is a difference. As much as I dislike her twisting what was said in the council and announcing it to the horde, she hasn't harmed anyone."

Devaneaux flexed his hands in irritation, but said no more.

"Find out what Genevra knows about this situation," Finn said. "But don't stir up anything with them."

Gentyl poured another cup of tea. "Please. We're just now getting to where we have a decent working relation with them again. Elise has done a great job as an emissary. Don't screw up her work or put her in danger."

"I will handle it delicately," Devaneaux assured.

Gentyl took another sip of tea. "Make sure you do. That is an order. Just get the information so we can figure out what's going on."Finn was with her when they received the first message. Devaneaux had threatened to kill Genevra. "That's his idea of handling it delicately?"

"Cripes," Gentyl spat. "Did he go there with the deliberate intention of destroying everything we have worked to build? I'll go there and see if I can find out exactly what happened. You see if you can find that idiot. Then find someone from the watch and have him arrested."

"Arrested?"

"Yes. We certainly don't need him attacking anyone. If he did threaten her and she stubs her delicate toe it will be blamed on Pia. I don't want Pia hung out to dry for something we didn't do. This would be a very bad time for Genevra or that rotter priestess of hers to get hurt."

Narnicka and Zherron were there with Genevra when Gen arrived. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, Narnicka blasted her. Odd that threatening to kill Genevra was against the law, but Narnicka threatening to kill people was not only apparently lawful, but backed up by he military.

"Are you making these threats as a concerned husband or a military commander?"

"I'm telling you as a concerned husband. If that doesn't work I will swear he threatened the family of a military officer."

She made note of the words Devaneaux had threatened Genevra because he believed she had something to do with the disappearance of Saavedro. Gentyl knew how close they were. That had been the trigger, just as Narnicka was now pushing her buttons. It was also worth noting Narnicka had no qualms manipulating his position as a military man to bring down Devaneaux if it didn't work from a civilian point of view. He had just shown his true colors. His army was for his personal use. It hadn't taken long to turn into a warlord.

"And tell me, Narnicka, has your army tracked down the forsaken wretch that is feeding information to the horde or is that none of your concern?"

"That's none of your business," Genevra snapped.

Of course it wasn't. The wretch could get entire troops wiped out depending on what kind of information she was feeding them, but that wasn't anyone's business just because Pia was usually on the front lines of defense and attacks.

The conversation degenerated from there until Zherron threatened to kill Deveaneaux and put him in many boxes. Once again, odd how that worked. Devaneaux threatened to kill Genevra and it was against the law and brought down the force of Narnicka's army. Narnicka and Zherron threatening to kill people was justified.

Two things were clear. Devaneaux had threatened to kill Genevra if he found out she had anything to do with the possible death of the missing Saavedro and Narnicka's army might very possibly be used for personal goals. The horde couldn't have done a better job of splintering the alliance.

No one from the watch had been available that night to arrest Devaneaux, so they would file the complaint in the morning. The watch was still not available the next morning so Gentyl called a group of Pia Guards together to capture Devaneaux and hold him until they could turn him over. Luckily the Commander was at sea. His solution would have been to take the man out in the field an beat him to a pulp. Gentyl wasn't sure the Tenth Legion methods of discipline didn't have some merit.

Devaneaux appeared at the stockades like she requested. The Guards surrounded him.

"You wanted to see me? You're wasting my time," he snapped. "Spit out whatever you've got to say. If you won't do anything I will and I have things to do."

The gangplank dropped and the sailors stood aside, most of them grinning at her as she dashed up the slope. He picked her up and swung her around, kissing her soundly even though they both avoided much public display of affection.

"Here, ya' lubbers," the first mate hollered at the watching sailors. "Ain't got nothing to do? Secure the ship and get this cargo off loaded."

He slapped her on the butt and leaned down. "Come to the cabin, m'dear, so these men can get their work done."

Cal, Turncutt's cook smiled and brought in a tray of tea and little lemon cakes he knew she loved. Once she had agreed to stay out of his galley, they had become fast friends and he did his best to fatten her up since, as he put it, a decent northerly would blow her clean away.

Turncutt leaned close. "He's been cooking for two days to make you a special dinner. I hope you're hungry."

Gentyl laughed. "I'm always hungry."

"Fair enough. You'll make the old curmudgeon happy for a change. Gods know I wouldn't mind having him fussing over you instead of me for a change. How goes the Presidium?"

"Someone is spreading a bunch of posters calling us and, especially me, all manner of vile names. Gutless, hypocritical cowards and the like."

He laughed and poured her a glass of wine. "And people believe this rot?"

"Some do. People who know us know differently. We aren't so delicate to be destroyed that easily. I think this is where we are supposed to look soulfully into each other's eyes, mew and moan and cry woe is me for untold hours before you carry me to my fainting couch because I am so overcome with despair."

He laughed and rocked back in his chair, enjoying the wine. "Is it now? And is that what you want to do?"

She took a sip of he wine. It really was remarkable. "I'd really like to eat. I'm starved and this wine is excellent. Then you can carry me somewhere, but not to faint."

"You like the wine? I found an odd little wine merchant with some excellent wares. We should do well with them in the market. I kept a case of this for us, however."

"There's the husband I love. Remind me to show you the action reports later."

"Indeed. Anxious to see what the horde have been up to."

Cal walked in with a heaping tray of dishes, followed by his boy carrying another tray. They carefully set the dishes down and stepped back, with expectant looks. Cal popped Turncutt on the back of the head. "Stop rocking back in that chair like that. Gouges the damned wood."

The notices from Ragefang started a laugh in Lahkin's throat. Clever. Make yourself a crime to catch, so you look like the real hero.

The letter from Artimus brought Lahkin considerably less mirth. He couldn't say he didn't expect it, but it did shine a little more light on the death knight's situation.

...as Gondorin has shown me...

So. Ragefang wasn't just a bloodthirsty beast, he was also a skilled deceiver.

And the Pia Presidium? Maybe Saavedro's propaganda wasn't so far off after all...

This would have to be planned carefully. In the end, perhaps it was best to just walk away, and let the liars hang themselves on the nooses meant for their victims. There was always another option besides the ones they laid to try and ensnare would-be followers.

Lahkin turned backto Artimus' letter. First, to answer this...

Another letter, penned by the same hand.

Sir Artimus Devaneaux,

I'm no clever deceiver. Good lies take years to make up, and I haven't lived that long. If an arrest is what I wanted, I would have sent more men, and not Nynra, who is not part of my order and perhaps, as you say, not to be trusted.

You are right in that Nynra could be a security hazard. Ulthryn and one other of my number have made this point, and I'd be foolish not to listen to people who have been around longer than me. She will be investigated, and tried formally, before a judge not connected to either my parents, Ragefang, or the Pia Presidium.

Patience--patience until the investigation into Nynra's case has been fully seen to--that I also agree with. And if she's a traitor like you believe, I will punish her myself.

Mob justice, claiming authority when it's not ours to claim, scapegoating, and attacks on those not yet proven guilty: those I do not agree with, yet those are what Ragefang and the Pia Presidium have condoned by their actions. If we are to be the wrathful answers to atrocities, so be it; but let's not commit those atrocities ourselves. That makes us no better than the Horde.

You should know also: Saavedro is safe. He was never missing. Why that illusion was kept up, I don't know.

Sincerely,
Lahkin Stoneheardt

The only reason Erelyn had gotten as far down the road as she did without her weapon and half her armor, was because Beth and Fey had distracted Arlston. How anyone could swim that much, she didn't know. Eri stood atop a small hill overlooking the valley she'd come to feel was home. The moon was so full and bright it lit the Hinterlands completely, save for the undergrowth beneath the trees. She listened to the chorus of tiny peepers, their thrumming rhythm giving her some small measure of balance. In the distance, a pair of moonkin rummaged for grubs around a stand of trees.

She'd been wrestling within herself for days, struggling to find answers just beyond the grasp of an eighteen year old girl. People wanted to fight; they thrived on conflict. Why? She kicked the saddlebags Lahkin had tossed at her feet before he stormed off not a half hour before. As his partner it was her duty to question the wisdom of his judgment, and she had, quite justly. Blood and thunder, you let Ulthryn go on assignment after he struck one of your own in the BACK?

Her worn copy of a Treatise on Strategy, the one Arlston gave her, fell from the bag and slid down the side of the hill. With a hiss, Eri launched after it, one hand on the ground to push herself over the side. This, in turn, scattered the rest of the items from the saddlebag, including Saavedro's libram. She scrambled back up the hill, recollecting as she went, then sat down heavily atop the hill once again. She set the two treasured books in her lap and began strapping on her bracers.

“Fel,” she uttered quietly, rubbing her face.

“Lean on me.” Lahkin had said not more than twenty-four hours before.

But, where had he been when she arrived at his father's house in Lakeshire, only to find Narnicka pinned to the floor, a sword driven through his flesh (and so very close to his heart), and covered in blood? Where had he been when Gondorin Ragefang arrived at the door, demanding entrance under the guise of friend and concerned ally? Where had he been when Ulthryn attacked Kaellar from behind, helping Artimus Devaneaux to escape through the streets of Andorhal?

Footsteps immediately behind her brought her head up, attentive. “Fel,” she said again, this time louder. “One of these days, Arlston, it won't be you behind me. I'll have gotten so used to the sneaking, I'll end up with a knife in my back.”

Arlston adjusted his mask, seeming unconscious of doing so and shrugged as Eri looked around at him. She eyed him for a moment then asked bitterly, “Did Lahkin send you?”

Arlston shook his head and held out a leather-bound packet to her. She examined it warily, asking, “More propaganda?” Again, Arlston shrugged in reply. She took the packet and set it in her lap, balancing it on top of the two books. “I don't have enough li--”

Lantern light flared behind her. She paused, not bothering to look back again. “Arlston … you frighten me. In a good way … most days. “

She didn't admit it was his reckless abandon that frightened her most. Erelyn didn't admit it was the thought of losing a friend – could she even regard him as a friend? – to a complete disregard for his own safety. This same lack of consideration seemed to be innate, not only in Terrans, but throughout the alliance. She'd given up trying to keep Cro's brother, Ande, still long enough for his wounds to mend. At least Timeus had the good sense to lie still and … recover.

She shook her head. As if she had room to judge!

For a moment, she set a hand over her stomach protectively and closed her eyes. She made a wish. Light willing, she'd have to change her own thinking someday, too. Even the grumpy old spirit dragon had admonished: “They are your Flight now. You no longer have the luxury of living for one. You live for them.”

She picked up the packet and untied the leather thong, reaching inside for the pages within. She read them. Then she read them again. She made a noise of protest, her expression incredulous. “Smoke and mirrors ...” She pulled the first note up to the light to read again, biting out, “The Knights of the Ebon Blade submitting to the investigation, ind --”

Arlston sighed quietly and, with the patience of one dealing with a youngster, reached into the leather packet and pulled out yet another parchment, this one folded thrice and carefully sealed. He held it up to Erelyn, his eyes locked on hers as if to say, “you're missing the bigger picture.”

The seal was Argent. Erelyn took it from Arlston's grasp as if it might possibly bite her. “Oh, Light … now what does he want?” At that, Arlston shrugged, straightened, and stared blankly out at the night. “Right,” she said, and slipped a finger under the wax to pop the seal.

“Hearthglen … now?” Eri folded the summons and tucked it, and Ragefang's latest propaganda back into the packet, then collected the packet and the rest of her belongings into the saddlebags.

“Argent messenger said by dawn, ma'am.” Came Arlston's reply.

“Right.” She fell silent. Not one, but two fathers, laid low in less than a week. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as the images of Tael's midsection ripped open sprang to the forefront of her mind. Whispering, she said, “I swear … I will never eat another sausage ever again.”

“Ma'am?” There was a slight hint of confusion in Arlston's question, but Erelyn waved it away. His head tilted as she stood up and faced him, holding her saddlebags out to him. “Orders, Ma'am?”

“Return to base. If you happen to run into Lahkin there … “ She shook her head and frowned. “No … don't bother. Just return to base. Check on Kaellar. If he's awake and strong enough, he needs to report to the Watch for questioning concerning the events in Lakeshire, and to … report Ulthryn's attack.”

Erelyn stepped to the edge of the hillside and nodded at Arlston. “You know where to find me if you need me.” And, she gave him no more time for response. The great Guardian construct fell from the sky and swooped. As it slowed and passed the hillside, she jumped into its saddle. Together they banked right, around the hill, and grinning without humor, Erelyn snapped a salute to Arlston before vanishing between the trees.

The silence was the worst of it. It threatened to consume her in a way that pain could not. There was of course pain. The pain that came with seeing the ones you cared for near death, or worse. There were things that were worse than death, and it was those thoughts that kept trying to surface as she watched over her husband. What if there was always silence?

The scenes from the days prior seemed to meld together in a way that made it hard for her to discern where one mess started and another mess ended. Ragefang, Nynra, the Watch, Orwyn, Lahkin's absence... all of it was overshadowed by the image of Narnicka with the rune blade through his shoulder. She cautiously rested her hand upon the wound, now long since healed over, but the still sleeping form did not stir yet.

She wanted to so desperately to be furious, to be angry, with herself, for not being there, with Ragefang, Artimus and Gentyl for pursuing Nynra in the first place, with her son for being away. All of this frustration and hatred roiled inside the priestess like the convection of the earth, waiting for the opportunity to rise, as heat must always do, and come to the surface.

Genevra recalled days before, confessing one of her darkest fears to Narnicka, "I fear that I will let the shadow take me once more." His words were comforting, and reassuring, "You are strong in the Light, it will not let you down."

But it did, damnit, it did let me down. She started to think those destructive thoughts, only to hear echoes of past conversations with Narnicka, with Erelyn, and with other dear friends that would not allow the priestess to hold on to any ire that was directed towards the Light. No. The Light did not abandon me, nor my family. These actions are those of mortals, mortals who have lost their way.

The silence, it made it so much more difficult. The only thoughts that bounced around were her own. A small figure appeared in the doorway, toddling over to Genevra. That Daisy was not harmed in all of this was proof of the Light's blessing, Genevra tried to reassure herself, but even those words sounded empty. "Nap." The little one said pointing to Narnicka. With weary eyes Genevra nodded to the toddler, "Yes, Daddy's napping."

The Light watches us rise, it watches us fall. It sees the good that lay within us all. In spite of this he has been taken, from the Light's salvation. Vengeance waits lurking among us now. It will not rest until it has been fed.

Saavedro had spent most of that night and the following day, after leaving the Stoneheardt house, seated on the lakeshore, thinking. And a single thought kept going through his mind: Genevra is dangerous. To her friends, to her family, and most especially to herself.

When he had arrived after his long "exile" in the care of Alexstrasza, Saavedro had met with Eidan Zherron, who had given him a cryptic warning: "There is something about Genevra you must know, Lord Saavedro. She has...dangerous powers. I wanted to kill her when they manifested - I thought she'd been possessed or something. When tensions raise so high you can cut them with a knife, she turns into a raging demon. How Narnicka was able to stop it, I don't know..."

At the time, Saavedro had thought little of it. Zherron had had a history of tensions with the Stoneheardt family, and he thought maybe the Packleader was motivated by bitterness. But after witnessing what she had nearly done last night to Lahkin's man - Arlston, he believed the name was - the paladin had been horrified. He knew that some priests tapped into the Shadow - particularly priests of the Forsaken, but no small few in the Alliance, even the pious draenei, dabbled in these magics too. There were times Saavedro had debated possibly becoming a shadow priest himself, after the fall of Lordaeron. Instead, he had turned into a drunk - a fact, he thought with an amused smile, that had probably saved him.

She is not thinking clearly. She is turning into the same kind of monster we have made Ragefang and Artimus out to be. But what can we do? She will not erect the undead-warding enchantments Cray has advocated, and she will not leave Lakeshire as long as Narnicka remains in this condition. Even I am at a loss here - I know not what can be done. He stared out into the water for a long moment, considering the possibilities. The only safer place I can think of for the both of them would be the Aerie, under Lahkin's watchful eye...Nynra has done well enough there. But the flight from Redridge to the Hinterlands is not a short journey, even with the fastest steed - would Narnicka survive the trip? Would we be able to move him at all?

As he stood to make his way towards the dwarven district - he had received a request from Varsil to make him a new gun - one last nagging thought remained: And even if we could...would she let us?

What had happened?

In this endless silence of unconsiousness, everything seemed to float above his motionless body, staring back at him. Ragefang had been feverishly attacking Narnicka's character, Artimus had threatened to kill Genevra, Gentyl had shown how little control she had over her own people then had the gall to act-self righteous as if Genevra had brought this on herself, and now... Narnicka lay useless, left near-dead by three death knights, two of which had managed to escape.

Somewhere in him, he felt a palpable frustration. It felt as if there was no right path to take. As if he and what he'd worked so hard to build was simply doomed to crumble under Gondorin's self-destructive bloodlust and the so-called "Alliance's" attacks on its own soldiers.

"Then perhaps it is time I stopped being the pen of the Crown and became the sword..."

The idea came out of nowhere, but there were times when talking was no longer effective. There were threats to Stormwind, to the Alliance and his family. And others' pompous judgements be damned, he would defend this land from those who would see it broken apart. If that were the Ebon Sanction, Pia Presidium, the Ebon Blade or anyone else, then so be-it.

With that last stirring internal realization... Narnicka's eyes opened.

Two days had passed since Narnicka awoke from his attack. Feeling strong enough, he sent for Corporal Kyreina, asking her to take down a message for him and post it on the various call boards throughout Stormwind.

To all citizens and allies of the Stormwind,

Two days ago, just after the seventh bell past noon, an attack occurred in Lakeshire at Lt. Commander Stoneheardt's home by what is believed to be rogue Ebon Blade knights. Three assailants attacked, leaving the Lt. Commander near dead. Two of these assailants managed to escape, but are now being hunted by the Stormwind's military and law enforcement departments.

Any and all information you or anyone else may have in this matter can be mailed or brought to the attention of the First Stormwind Regiment's office in the Stormwind Keep.

Thank you for your cooperation,

Lieutenant Commander Narnicka Stoneheardt,
First Stormwind Regiment

A composite sketch of two clearly undead humans is posted with this letter.

----

(( OOC note! I really didn't think this part through, but I realized that two death knights will be needed in order to proceed. If anyone has a throwaway DK, or won't mind creating a new one on the server to help us out, it would be tremendously appreciated!

Just send me a tell or mail in-game, and I'll get back to you! ))