Cyrus waited on a balcony high up the structure of Utgarde Keep, overlooking Daggercap Bay. Flying in from the northeast, a dark, strange creature with ethereal wings landed before him. Not wasting any words of greeting, Cyrus spoke - in Orcish, the language of the Horde. "This had better not be a waste of my time. The fall from here is pretty far."
Sekhesmet of Stratholme dispersed the shadows around him with a smile. "Priest, lad," he reminded him. "I have my ways of avoiding sudden stops. Ask Lahkin Stoneheardt, if you can get him to believe I'm still here." He chuckled - and noticed that Cyrus just stared silently at him. Not as chatty as Narnicka, this one, he thought. Ah, well. To business. "Now then, I understand you have something of a pest problem. One Nynra Lirann Lightheart, deluded fool, yes?"
"That much is pretty public." Cyrus gazed at him suspiciously. "And this concerns you, how?"
"She is wanted by the Forsaken for sedition - and by me in particular, for my...long-term goals involving her equally-deluded patroness." He noticed, with some pleasure, that Cyrus did not bat an eye, knowing full well who the priest meant. Cyrus had some kind of...personal connection to Genevra, he wasn't sure of what nature. And he didn't much care.
"I have a punishment in mind for Nynra once I catch up to her and reclaim what is mine." Briefly and bluntly, he stated what he had in mind.
Sekhesmet was silent for a moment, considering. He didn't think he could be surprised or impressed, but in one sitting, he was both. This man was vicious. "Perhaps more fitting than anything we can muster," he said after a moment. "Still...we appear to have the same goals here."
"How am I to know this isn't just a ploy to get your hands on that weapon she's running around with?" he asks levelly, his piercing gaze not leaving Sekhesmet's face.
The High Priest, for his part, returned it unflinchingly. "If it were, Cyrus Sagewind...what could you do to stop it?" he retorted, to see if this one - like so many others like him - was prone to bluster.
"Mmh..." Cyrus was thoughtful for a moment. "The strange thing is, I would not. Were you to get your hands on this weapon, the same fate that is at this moment befalling Nynra would befall you as well."
"Because it is attuned to you and only you, and vice versa, yes?"
"Well, there is that, but that isn't what I had in mind."
Sekhesmet chuckled. "Yet even for one of your strength and skill, you do not yet see. This is a weapon of unfathomable power. I have seen what you have done with it thus far, and it is only a taste of what it is capable of." He gauged Cyrus carefully. "Is it restraint that stays your hand...or something else?"
Cyrus' eyes took on a mischievious glint. "I forged that weapon from scratch...I know precisely what it is capable of, but why rush things? The victory I enjoy is the defeat my enemies see coming, months or years in advance."
The High Priest inclined his head. "I see...drawing out the kill, as it were." He's good, he had to admit. "I admire your style. Still, there is the matter of acquiring it from the fool Terrans and their priestess friend. It has been taken to the Aerie, has it not?" That was what his minion had said, something about a residiual shadow aura. But somehow, he knew the Ocheliad commander was able to tell him it wasn't there anymore.
Cyrus didn't disappoint him. "It passed through at one point, but Ocheliad forces caused her to flee their Keep." He was now studying Sekhesmet as a chess-master would his opponent. "Am I to understand your only stake here is to see her and her partners damaged?"
"Partly," Sekhesmet admitted. "But I see great benefits to a...truce, at least, between you and I in particular. We are very much alike - we serve our own agendas, while publicly we pay deference to men we call our lord. And as you can see, I have my own resources." His expression became somewhat apologetic. "Even if it is a damned annoying gnome - but he's loyal enough, and will do what I bid him. Or I'll turn his precious brain into gelatin and suck it out of his skull with a straw." He chuckled. "Don't think he'd like that. But perhaps my operative can provide you with the necessary information, and steps to take back what is yours. I see more benefits in its being wielded by one who knows what it can do, rather than taking it myself. You win, I win, they die, we're happy."
Cyrus was silent for a moment, glaring at the priest, wondering if he was lying - or possibly leaving something out. "I will call on you, should I find a way for you to assist us, which very well may be soon," he said at last. "But do know that if you pull any sort of stunt, I will not be like the terrans. You'll know why only I can wield such a weapon."
Sekhesmet nodded. "Agreed."