World of Warcraft®

Trenetir's sharp gaze was focused on the machine, only vaguely hearing the words of Caileanmor. Words didn't matter, not now that he had it. If Phenelopy had escaped, he had missed it, so enthralled was he with the machine. Nothing mattered now. Nothing but the machine and the power that it would bring him.

It called to him like a siren in the night, begging to be used, bringing with it the promise of power; power that he so craved. His vision was awash with images of grandeur, of the pain that he would cause those who had interfered. A wontonly malicious smile set itself to his lips with no promise of leaving.

"Hold him." He said coldly to the guards who stepped in and grabbed Caileanmor, hooking him up to the machine with force, knocking the stool out of the way. They would stay there, holding him in place should he attempt to struggle.

Trenetir stepped forward ion front of the machine. His eyes lusted for power. He flipped the switch on the handle, then his other hand pressed the button, just as Caileanmor had done.

A blinding flash of light, that was expected, but the pain was not, the sound was not. The deep wrenching, whirring, careening sound, as if the room around him threatened to collapse upon him. Or had it? His chest and right arm ached, the hand that had pressed the button burned like acid had been set to it.

"Irilin." The voice that spoke was not the voice that he knew, but one that was raspy from smoke and debris inhalation. How long had he laid there with the debris from the dungeons on him he did not know. His head was heavy, his chest was weighed down, his arm was on fire.

Darkness took him.

Yuuko cursed as the cold mead sloshed across her chin, down the side of her throat and into her armor. It was really cold and there was nothing she could do short of balling her fists and clench her teeth until the discomfort subsided. She turned her head wildly to where the rumbling had come from. Had she not been leaning against the counter she surely would have been knocked to the ground. Glancing at what was left in her drink she shrugged and finished it quickly before hastily trotting down the halls to the source of the disturbance.

The door to the dungeon was flung wide open, her eyes narrowed as she glanced from side to side. Instinctively she unlatched her axe from her belt, and tested its weight before cautiously letting her feet carry herself into the depths below.

The scene was horrific, the two guards at the entrance lay still and unmoving, their now unlit eyes staring at the ceiling. Dust and smoke clung low to the ground and the unmistakable smell of burnt flesh permeated throughout the room. Debris from the contraption the gnome had built lay scattered everywhere. The only movement was in the corner where two rats scurried back and forth in a vain attempt to escape the room. The cages that had once held the gnome and goblin were now empty save for a few burnt remains of schematics that littered the floor. Her eyes darted to the right and her heart stopped.

She rushed forward laying her axe on the ground and knelt beside her Lord. Her hands hovered above his still smoking chest. Her eyes bellied the panic that threatened to overcome her as she pressed her head against his chest, listening for any signs of life. An audible sigh escaped her as a steady but weak rhythm greeted her. She raised her head to assess the injuries. His chest was badly bruised and the flesh had been burnt in many places. His right arm looked to have taken the brunt of the force. His wrist and forearm were badly burnt. Several fingers looked to have been broken and his shoulder was in a sickening unnatural position. She grimaced as the smell of chard flesh once again wafted up to her, but she heaved and cradled her Lord in her arms. From her knelt position she grunted again as she rose. Strong as she was the weight of her armor and that of Trenetir was almost too much to bear. She struggled and stopped many times as she made her way up the stairs. Muscle fatigue threatened her every step as she made her way to the nearest bedroom.

She laid him on the bed and backed away. Her eyes narrowed and hatred burnt into them as she spoke in a hiss “They will pay my Ser. Oh will they pay”

She turned to the open door and started bellowing down the halls “Dellis!"

By the time Yuuko had entered to find Trenetir the gnome was no where to be found.

A quick examination on her part after the smoke had cleared and the dust settled might reveal that parts of the debris field had been disturbed soon after the explosion. Even sooner than she had arrived.

All that was left of him was a small outline where he laid after the explosion.

--------------------------------------------------------------
((Thanks Tren for allowing me to invade your thread and be apart of your tale! :) ))
((For details on Cail's escape see thread: [Story] Operation Mana Wyrm.))
((Post #11 and on records the explosion from their p.o.v.))
((Link:http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/11224202460))

Yuuko wasted no time. She knew her job and knew it well. Returning to the dungeon she began the long and tedious task of cleaning. She insured that the room was spotless, not one clue of what had transpired remained. She noted peculiarities as she did so, things that seemed to unnerve her. She scowled at the two corpses lying at the foot of the stairs. Their failure would be punished in the worst way. She sneered as she approached lifeless guards, kicking one in the side. She was sure she could make some extra gold by having their worthless corpses sold and used to strengthen the ranks of the Forsaken. Now though, she had much work to do.

She arranged for a midnight pickup of the corpses and had their bodies boxed up into a crate labeled rosemary. She then began to write down notes on clues to what could have happened. Pistachio and that crazed gnome should have been hurt in the explosion too, but their bodies were nowhere to be found. She had been quick to respond. Did she miss something? She thought long and hard at what the scene looked like as she came down the stairs. Her jaw clenched, there had been so much smoke and dust. She could have missed something. She cursed under her breath. Her haste to help her Lord may very well have allowed them to escape. Her eyes narrowed angrily, she would not be the target of her Lords wrath.

Yuuko picked up her weapon and supplies. Now the real work began, making sure the events from the past few weeks would lead anywhere but here, and silence those who knew the truth. It was time to pull out the broom.

To say that Trenetir Moradinel was in pain was an understatement. He was broken. His head throbbed with pain, his body ached. such descriptors of his pain were an understatement. Trenetir Moradinel was broken.

He was oblivious to the comings and goings of Irilin and his servants: Dellis and Yuuko. Days had slipped into a week and more and all the while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Someone was tending to his shoulder and arm. The pain bubbled like magma, threatening to overtake him, to drag him down into despair.

Sleep. Was it really sleep? He couldn't tell anymore. Were the faces that swam before his vision real? Or was it a dream.

"Master Duskwhisper, I do not know why he does not wake. His wounds need time but I believe it is his pride that is holding him back," Dellis spoke in hushed tones to Irilin.

---

He sat up, his bright eyes adjusting to the familiar cell like room, his heart threatening to thunder through his chest as he became aware of his surroundings. In a panic he reached out for the sleeping form next to him, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as Irilin was still there.

Drawing his robes about him he quietly left the room for the first time since the accident. He body was sore, both with fatigue from his injuries and from lack of use. He turned the lights on and settled into his desk, his mind filled with one thought: vengeance.

Trenetir's brokenness, if nothing else, led him to move around more noisily than usual. Irilin knew he was attempting to be silent, but it was a far cry from his best. Irilin waited until he heard the door close quietly, then rose. He moved to the door and listened to the footsteps receding in the hallway. Fading from sight, he silently opened the door and followed the steps, one hand against the wall to guide him.

His compulsion to follow Trenetir was more instinctual than anything else. Trenetir would be plotting, most likely revenge. Of course he wouldn't wait to heal, to mend, to at least be relatively close to operating conditions. Trenetir was nothing if not emotional, perhaps even more so than most people realised. He also had a bad habit of letting those emotions cloud not only his vision, but what little sense Irilin managed to stir up in him.

A light turned on, and Irilin paused to orient himself. He heard the scrape of a chair over the floor, and a rather heavy settling into it, scooting slightly forward. Irilin wasn't as familiar with this room as with others, but he moved his way carefully around. He could hear Trenetir's breathing; the particular breath was usually accompanied by a face riddled with concentration, generally on someone's downfall. Irilin shook his head.

He followed the breaths as best he could, until he was behind Trenetir. Knowing that it probably wouldn't be a good idea, he quietly laid his hand on Trenetir's shoulder anyway.

His right hand reached out to grasp at the shoulder, turning as he did in his seat, wishing he was armed. Why? He let out a low groan as the strain from this sharp action took its toll. His hear threatened to burst through his chest as his set his eyes on Irilin.

It took several deep breaths for Trenetir to realize that he did not need to worry, not now at least. "I didn't want to wake you. I just wanted to see about the bills that were waiting since all of this happened."

It was a poor lie. The desk was not covered with shipping orders and bills of lading, but with his journal, given to him long ago by Irilin, the original schematics for the device and a handful of books on the topic, all of which had been drawn from his drawer once he sat down.

"Go back to sleep. I'll be there soon." He was consumed.

It is what it is. Except when it isn't.

The night was quiet, save for the cold wind that whipped through the snow-capped mountains of Dun Morogh, and the steady breathing of his slumbering husband. 

Trenetir Duskwhisper found himself in a place of quiet reflection. There were no demands upon him from either his business, nor his own tortured plans for power. As he stared up at the tent his thoughts drifted to nearly half a year ago, when he first attempted to assert himself, to claim what was his.

From the attempt to gain the Titan artifact, to his many strained relationships, both personal and business, it threatened to overtake him. In this moment, he saw their faces ...From his father, who could not give him more than a sword, to his brother who had taken everything, to the men and women whose bed he'd shared, whose hearts he had toyed with, to those who had known pain and suffering at his hand, and he found himself .... smiling. 

He smiled into the night, careful not to move so as to wake his husband. He smiled not because he had finally "won" nor because he had turned over a new leaf. No, he smiled for one reason and one reason alone: it could wait. He had love, and in this love he had found something that he had struggled in vain to achieve on his own: honor and pride.

Not the honor and pride that is derived from a man who takes what he wants by any means neccessary or through manipulation, but the honor and pride of a man who knows that he is no longer alone.

The weight of it all did not sink in until he heard Liore, a somewhat friend and earstwhile foe,  introduce them: Irilin and Trenetir Duskwhisper, that he finally had a name and was no longer the bastard.

Trenetir rolled over, pulling his husband closer before the first peaceful sleep in years finally took him.

((I just want to thank everyone who was a part of this storyline. It was a lot of fun, and while it took unexpected twists and turns this chapter in Trenetir's life is at an end. He's not going anywhere though so don't get your hopes up. Again many thanks to all involved.))