World of Warcraft®

Lola set her packages down near Kaalis’ basket and scooped the squirming baby up in her arms. She cradled and cooed as she rocked the infant back and forth.

From the safety of a rocky alcove at the side of the cave, Illyrak, Rhirezza and Kilrax exchanged glances. All six arms gesturing wildly, the shivarra made a soft hissing noise. Both the voidlord and the observer glared at her. She placed her lowest hands on her hips and folded the other four arms across her chest with a huff. All three demons returned to observing their mistress.

The warlock held Kaalis close as she fed her from a bottle. As soon as the baby was asleep, Lola set her gently back in the basket and tucked her in with several blankets to keep out the dampness of the cave. She turned to her packages. Pushing everything else aside, she reached into the bottom of one bag and pulled out several items. Her expression was a new one for the demons in the recessed part of the cave. They had not seen their mistress look this…hopeful…ever. She also seemed determined as she set out two red candles. One was slightly taller than the other and its color was a deeper claret shade. In front of the candles she set two red gems. The color of each gem corresponded to the candle it was placed near.

After lighting the two candles with a spark from her fingertip, Lola held a small leather bag over the lighter gem. A quick tug on the drawstrings and the contents of the bag spilled. From the distance of the alcove, the demons strained to see, but they could not. However, their mistress’ next actions gave them a hint.
As Lola held a hand near the side of her face, one fingernail extended to a razor sharp claw with which she sliced off a lock of her own hair. She placed the strands on top of the darker crystal. Taking the same claw, she pierced her other palm. She held both hands over the crystal until enough blood had dripped out to soak the hair and most of the gem. Sealing off the wound she had created with a searing jolt of fel fire she looked to the lighter gem. Carefully, she spread what her minions assumed were strands of hair over the top of the gem. Lola then picked up a small vial. She stared at it for a few minutes and muttered something about how it better be enough. After removing the stopper she upended it and poured the liquid contents over the second lock of hair and gem.

With fingers extended, she picked up both crystals from the top, one in each hand. Stretching, she held them over the flames of their coordinating candles. The fire licked at the bottom of the gems. As if they had caught on fire from the inside, they each began to glow. Lola concentrated her gaze on the darker crystal.

“Tiriosh zenn, tiriosh kiel, arakal modas amanare danashj.”

She then focused on the lighter one.

“Tiriosh zenn, tiriosh kiel, arakal modas mordanas rikk.”

Bringing her hands together, Lola set the darker crystal on top of the lighter one. She held them together tightly, pressing down with one hand and pressing up with the other.

“Tiriosh, ashjraka, ashke, aske. Kiel lok, kiel lok, no ashj ze.”

Suddenly, there was a loud popping sound that echoed throughout the cave. Lola smiled, but her expression did not appear satisfied. She pulled back her right hand. In her left was a single crystal. She examined it closely. After a few minutes she leaned away.

“It will have to do.”

The wall cracked and tiny piece of plaster fell to the floor when the door hit. As usual, Cyrus had used more force than was necessary. He moved out of the way to let Azheira enter their room first. She headed straight for the bed and flopped face down. Rolling once, she turned and draped an arm over her eyes while her other pressed against her flat stomach.

Cyrus shut the door and watched her for a minute. “You need a diversion.”

The clunking sound of metal hitting wood rattled the bed and caused Azheira to jerk. Pulling her arm away from her face she opened one eye to stare at her pauldron-less husband. Another loud clatter as his belt and chest plate joined the shoulder armor on the floor near the bed. Azheira’s other eye opened as a tired but sensual smile spread across her face.

“I do?”

“Oh, yeah.” He lifted one leg up so that his hoof was resting on the bed near her hip. With tantalizing sultriness in her movements, Azheira sat up and reached for the clasp on his greaves.

Her eyes darkened as she looked up at him. “And just what did you have in mind?” She asked as he switched legs so that she could remove the armor on his other leg. When that piece of plate clinked against the others, he leaned down and kissed her.

“A little of this.” He sat down on the bed, one hand snaking around her waist to pull her close. “Or maybe a lot of this.” A contented sigh escaped her parted lips just before his mouth covered hers. Only this could make them forget. Cyrus reached up to cradle her head as he slowly eased her back onto the bed.

Just as the back of his knuckles touched the pillow her neck stiffened, her spine arched and she gasped painfully.

“Azheira?” The distress on Cyrus’ face would have been fully apparent if she could have seen it, but Azheira seemed to be caught in the throes of a horrific vision.

“NO!” She cried out, her fingernails clawing at Cyrus’ chest. Quickly he grabbed both her hands in one of his and held her as the dream took over.

Azheira hunched over as a sharp sting pierced her side. She felt caught – trapped, unable to move. A cry ripped from her throat. Pain shot through the small of her back.

Anguish coursed through her body as the vision faded. Her clouded and dismayed gaze found Cyrus’ anxious eyes. She was nearly incoherent with her words coming out in choked gasps. “Traxx! Gone! We have…to go!” Her hands pushed at his broad shoulders to get him to move.

Cyrus didn’t hesitate. Moving quickly throughout the room, he gathered their things while Azheira tried to focus enough to be able to stand. Slinging both satchels over one shoulder, Cyrus put on his warrior face as he took Azheira’s hand. Their brief interlude of bliss cut short and completely forgotten as they hurriedly left the Telaar inn.

From her vantage point at the top of the hill, she could see the trio advancing. Their lack of stealth and the height of the two Draenei made their approach clearly visible. Obviously, they had every intention of letting their presence be known. She smiled triumphantly as her gaze shifted to the boy being held at the far side of the hilltop. Soon the hated one will have lost everything and Lola would be the victor.

She turned and made her way through the crowd of cultists who were chanting as they milled about. They were pawns, these cultists, and a significant number of them were about to die at the hands of Cyrus, Noikona and Azheira. No matter, there were enough that her plan would work.

The wind created by the vortex whipped at her hood, threatening to tug it away from her face. Lola pulled the ribbons tighter and secured it as she walked to the center of the hilltop. Her eyes closed as she raised her hands and began her own mantra. Soon, a small, dark hole appeared in the middle of the vortex. It grew in size until it was large enough that a grown man could fit through it. Leaves and debris stirred by the winds were sucked into the darkness. The chant of the cultists rose in fervor and they began to move en masse towards the portal she had created just as shouts from below indicated the rescuers were on their way up. Lola pushed herself toward the back of the crowd and observed from beneath the covering of her hood.

The boy cried out when he saw his parents and Azheira rushed to free him. The weapons of Cyrus and Noikona whistled as they sliced through many men and women, their blades covered with blood and bodies piled up around their hooves. The two Draenei stayed close to Azheira, who was holding Traxx tightly as they attempted to escape.

Lola sneered as they were attacked and the boy was snatched back. The man who took him quickly leaped through the portal and Azheira’s scream could be heard above the rumble of the winds. Cyrus roared as he pushed closer and closer to the portal. He looked back at Azheira, his face set in anger and determination.

“I’ll find him. I’ll bring him back.”

Azheira cried out. She reached for him, but could not keep hold. Crumpling, the paladin dropped. Noikona tried to break her fall and clasped her friend’s hand. Lola watched with eagerness as she waited for Azheira to fall apart.

That, did not happen. At least, not in the way Lola had anticipated. Both Noikona and Azheira seemed confused and disoriented. The Draenei cursed and her face filled with pain. Azheira backed away from her friend. Lola could not hear their words above the rush of winds, but it was obvious they were arguing. After a few tense moments the Draenei shifted into her nightwing form and grabbed Azheira.

Demonic curses spilled from Lola’s lips as she watched them fly off.

Exhaustion claimed her limbs as she stumbled out of the tunnel and fell to her knees. Her palms hit the snowy ground as her breath choked out in shallow gasps. Heaviness pressed on the back of her head making it feel like as if a weight was attached, pushing her down. A violent shiver racked her entire body when her forehead touched the ice cold flakes.

Something hard swung out from her chest and hit her chin. Lethargically, she reached for it with one hand and lifted her head to look. It was a red stone attached to an intricately woven chain hanging around her neck. Sitting up and resting on her heels, she stared at it. Despite the bright waves of sunshine glistening off the snowy bank, her pupils dilated and flickered as a strange mix of emotions clouded her eyes. Her thumb rubbed comfortably back and forth across the stone as if it had done so a thousand times. Something seemed off, however as her gaze shifted to the shadow the stone created on the ground next to her right knee.

“Shadow,” she murmured with confusion in her voice. “There’s no…light inside the stone.”

Suddenly, nausea caused her abdomen to twist hard. She leaned over and emptied her stomach until there was nothing left. Groaning, Azheira reached out for handful of snow to clean her mouth, but the fatigue and pain coursing through her body demanded to be assuaged. She slipped on the edge of the snowdrift and tumbled down a small hill, coming to a stop underneath a fallen tree. She did not get up.

The bar was clean, only a small murmur and the distant clatter of a plate or glass could be heard. She stood behind the counter in a daze. Her face darkened once more; before she knew it tears began rolling down her cheeks again. Joachim gave her a wide space as she passed by. No words were spoke, as she quietly exited the Recluse.

Noikona walked bewildered, her heart deeply troubled. The words echoed in her mind

"I have never been married. I do not have any children. I do not know who you are. Go away and leave me alone!"

Her lips mouthed the words “Go away and leave me alone”

She grasped the pendant around her neck, but try as she might she was unable to focus her thoughts to use it, an unseen force stopped her from calling out to her friend.

Something was dreadfully wrong, something terrible had happened. Her mind raced to all that had transpired. Traxx, Cyrus, Azheira’s scream, her friend falling. They touched. Noikona stopped breathing. They touched.

Noikona attempted to keep her thoughts off the last couple of days by busying herself in the Recluse, there was usually something she could find that needed to be fixed or cleaned. She was caught by surprise when a gnome jumped on the bar

Sprocketeer exclaimed “Goat Girl!” looking satisfied at the surprised expression on Noikona’s face, she continued “You think you can just hire people to kill other people and it will simply happen?”

Noikona narrowed her eyes at the gnome "You best watch your mouth!”

Sprocketeer waved a handful of papers in front of Noikona.

Noikona expression turned dark as she asked “What the fel are you talking about?” she raised a hand as if to push the gnome “And get off my bar.”

Inglehart remarked from his table “Oh Noikona, if only you had a bouncer.”

Sprocketeer replied raising her voice “I am talking about your attempt on Lillith! You wanted her dead! Gnomes... we know you hate us! “, pulling out her hearthstone she muttered into it and looked around the bar "Where is the Watch?"

Noikona glared at the gnome not liking where this was going "Get off my bar and get out!"

Sprocketeer turned back replying “I am not going anywhere until justice has been done.”

Lamias looked towards Noikona and Sprocket, "Maybe it is best I get going anyways”

Noikona stared at Sprocketeer “Do I need to throw you out myself?”

Inglehart shrugged

Sprocketeer exclaimed “You hired someone to kill her! And she nearly died! Does your racism know no bounds!?”

Kundalini looked over at the commotion in the corner as she slid up the bar and ordered some milk.

Noikona lowered her voice “I would do it with my own hands, not hire someone. So leave. You are obviously mistaken.”

Kundalini looked back at Vendross.

Vendross sighed, taking a deep breath, and approached. "Stormwind City Watch. We received a call."

Inglehart remarked “I would happily throw her out, as long as I get to set her on fire.”

Sprocketeer waved the papers at Noikona and replied, "No I am not... I have witnesses and your own...” Hearing Vendross she turned and yelled “OH YES! LONG EARS!!!"

Sprocketeer pointed to Noikona, "This woman has tried to kill one of my friends, a fellow gnome!.

Kundalini frowned at the usage of the words 'long ears'.

Sprocketeer looked at Vendross speaking with a raised voice “She hired a hit-man to kill her, I have the documents here! Written in her own goat girl hand!”

Inglehart muttered, "That’s not actually surprising."

Vendross frowned, and held out his hand for the documentation.

Kundalini glanced at Noikona. "What is she," Lini pointed to Sprocketeer, "talking about?"

Noikona glared at Sprocketeer before turning to Lini "I don't know. She’s about to get a beating though"

Sprocketeer handed the documents to Vendross; it appears to be just as Sprocketeer says, an order for a hit on a gnome by the name of "Lilith."

Inglehart remarked “I always imagined Noikona being the one to kill someone herself, never hire someone for it.”

Inglehart rubbed his right ear as he remembered something about a bomb..

Sprocketeer continued “My friend is nearly dead, and recovering. Else she would be here herself to confront this Goat Girl!”

Kundalini yelled “Hey! Quit with the insults!”

Vendross spoke frustrated “Quiet, please, madam.”

Vendross addressed this as much to Sprocketeer as to Kundalini, as he read the documents. "This is a most serious charge, miss. Do you have evidence pointing to Miss Noikona?"

Sprocketeer spoke “She told me of how the Goat Girl tried to kick her a day before the assassin came.”

Noikona’s thoughts raced, on which gnome she had kicked recently. There had been so many.

Kundalini frowned and moved behind the bar to talk to Noikona. "Where is Zel?"

Noikona looked at Lini "I don't know" she looked back at the Sprocketeer "You can't be serious?"

Sprocketeer looked up at Vendross “The documents that you have, show that she hired the hit man. And my friend's testimony which once she is well will be brought forth, but she cannot get better knowing that the Goat Girl who tried to kill her is out there.”

Sprocketeer cried out “She is afraid for her gnome life!”

Noikona‘s eyes flicked emerald as she looked at Sprocketeer “Call me goat one more time and I will cut your tongue out.”

Sprocketeer stared at Noikona “She is threatening me now long ears!” She quickly hid behind Vendross.

Vendross commanded “Enough, both of you!”

Kundalini stared at Noikona. "That's not helping."

Sprocketeer remarked “She will not rest until my race is extinct.”

Noikona considered that statement for a few heartbeats.

Thoranis raises his brow at what’s happening around him and does his best to stay out.

Inglehart looked at Sprocketeer and asked “Can you blame her, Gnome? You lot are annoying”

Vendross sighed, as he looked up from the documents at Noikona. "Miss Noikona, I need a sample of your handwriting. Any ledgers or similar things you may have. I need to have a look in comparison."

Kundalini sighed “Oh, for the love of…”

Vendross shrugged “It may well be nothing, but I wish to make absolute certain.”

Vendross makes it clear that he hopes to Elune, or whoever is listening, that it IS nothing.

Noikona stared at Vendross in disbelief "My ledgers are at the end of the bar"

Kundalini smiled at Vendross. "This is just silly and certainly unnecessary."

Vendross nodded “Maybe. But so was keeping an eye on Professor Sputterspark. And now he is in jail, where he belongs.”

Sprocketeer hid behind Vendross as he walked to the bar

Vendross placed his hand on the ledger “Let us see here...”

Kundalini frowned “You would equate Noikona with that trash?!”

Vendross opened the ledger, and put the documents on the bar next to it, his eyes flickered back and forth between the two. His brow furrowed...and he sighed. He wondered just how much hell he's in for it with Orwyn for this.

Vendross raised his head from the leger and documents, looking towards Noikona “Miss Noikona...I'm afraid I must ask you to come with me.”

Noikona shook her head "On what grounds?"

Kundalini glanced at Noikona and back to Vendross. "Wait...what?"

Vendross replied “The handwriting on the documentation and in your ledger...is a point-for-point match. I am afraid the charge is conspiracy to commit murder.”

Kundalini stared, wide-eyed at Noikona.

Vendross continued “I am therefore placing you under arrest on that charge. I will have the documents and the ledger prepared for Commander Orwyn's perusal. I suggest your friend here find you a defender.

Noikona looked hatefully at Sprocketeer “The only murder that will be committed is the death of the gnome at your side for such a false accusation.”

Kundalini shook her head at Noikona “not helping...”

Sprocketeer pointed at Noikona “She has just threatened to kill me twice!”

Vendross sighed “Please, Miss Noikona. Do not add anything further to this, I beg you. Please, come with me.”

Sprocketeer nodded sagely “That is a serious crime too!”

Inglehart looked towards Noikona “Noikona, you probably have the right to shush your mouth.”

Noikona ignored Inglehart, starting at Vendross “I say we have a situation then. I will not leave here.”

Kundalini grimaced. "Here we go."

Inglehart remarked “A great time to be stubborn indeed.”

Inglehart turned around in his seat and flicked ashes into an empty mug watching the scene unfold with amused curiosity.

Kundalini turned to Noikona. "Listen, I'm sure Zel will be able to sort this out, but you need to not cause any more problems right now."

Noikona looked at Lini "You expect me to surrender to something I have not done?"

Vendross would rather not put in his report to Orwyn that he had to set someone on fire in order to subdue them!

Noikona shook her head at Lini “Where is the logic in that?”

Inglehart spoke eyeing Noikona “It is better to surrender now and be exonerated of it later, than fight now and get convicted for a real crime..”

Inglehart shuts up now, why is he helping the goatigirl anyways?

Vendross nodded. "The human here is right, Miss Noikona. I would rather not have to resort to the alternative."

Thoranis sipped his cup of tea and sits silently.

Kundalini shook her head. "No, not a surrender...a...brief interlude...that you can later hold over their heads as evidence of their stupidity." She grins, cheekily.

Vendross slipped into his native tongue”Thera dor bandu al osa anar DOr thus turus su Bandu t'as'e nor”

Vendross glares at Kundalini.

Kundalini winks at Vendross.

Noikona listened to Lini’s words. She was not about to surrender, but she didn’t wish a confrontation. Anger flashed across her face as she unbuckled her sword, placing it in a foot locker behind the bar. She whispered to Joachim as she passed and glanced Sprocketeer”

Vendross looked at Noikona” If you will follow me. If all is well, you should be out before the day is done. If not...find a good defender.”

Noikona mumbled to Sprocketeer "You best run like hell after this is done"

Sprocketeer exclaimed “She has threatened me again!”

Vendross shook his head “I would refrain from further threats, Miss Noikona.”

Kundalini muttered, "Again with the not helping..."

Vendross turned to Sprocketeer “And as for YOU.”

Sprocketeer looked at Vendross “She hates us!”

((Noikona punts Sprocketeer the gnome halfway across Azeroth! - ooc of course. No really))

Vendross looked down at the Sprocketeer. "I would suggest you stay with your friend. Lilith, was it?"

Sprocketeer agreed “Yes, I will help her!”

Thoranis thinks to himself how gnomes would taste with potatoes and carrots.

Vendross nodded “Then go. And inform Genevra one of us may be paying her a call as well.”

Vendross turned to Noikona. "Let's go."

Noikona‘s eyes flickered emerald

The walk to the stockades didn’t take long. Noikona thoughts had turned quite dark, all involving Sprocketeer and different forms of torture. Before she knew it she was surrounded by familiar walls. Walls she had hoped she would never see again.

Vendross voice brought her back to reality “Alright. In you go, please. And I would suggest against any form of magic use in here.”

Vendross indicated the warding runes encrusted in the ceilings.

Noikona raised her left wrist revealing the probation bracelet “It's not my first time here”

Across the hall, Professor Sputterspark watched in interest. He grinned and nodded in greeting to the draenei.

Noikona lowered her voice “Officer Aribet is my probation officer”

Vendross closes and locked the cell door. "Well, this may end up being a longer stay than I thought. But that will be left to the Commander."

Vendross left speaking “Good day, Miss Noikona.”

Noikona twirled a tentacle with her middle finger at Vedross’s back as he left attempting to understand what was good about any of this.

Outside the stockades in the shadows, Kosuzu nodded her head with approval and walked away.

The frozen splendor of Winterspring; it would steal the breath from any man, fill the heart of any poet with cold inspiration. Snowcapped mountains held council with the clouds, while the valley cradled layers upon layers of snow. Ponds went to ice, warmed by day, froze again come night. On a clear day, invisible little maids of wind scurried around, gathering powder in their skirts and casting them joyfully into the air. Thick evergreens huddled together in stoic silence. The occasional bear would lumber too close and a pine would shiver down a mound of frosty fluff to bury the furry creature. But for the shattered-ice screams of overhead falcons, the winter-enshrouded landscape was utterly silent.

It was a magnificent journey. It was a tiresome one. Regarde Lio'thindas trudged through a valley that had been untouched since the latest flurry; each forward step was resisted by feathery snow, shockingly heavy for its lightness. His booted foot would lift and come to rest upon a top crust of sun-seared ice, but break through with a mocking crunch and sink to the knee. The sheer beauty of the place tempered his patience, and beneath his furred scarf he discovered a smile.

His mission in Felwood was brief. The cruel and soulless machinations of a demonologist cut abruptly short, foul experiments scattered, research set to the judgement of flame. Only when the final ember smouldered its last did Regarde begin his journey back to the manse, Winterspring Valley. It had meant passing through Timbermaw Hold a second time. His first trip through was not quite so peaceful; those of the tribe who valued life parted to allow passage for the lean Blood Elf in his chain and plate and massive quiver of weapons, and those who did not value life, those spear-wielding braves who saw only an enemy to kill, were relieved of their mortality.

This time a Furbolg shaman, eyes crusted with age, presented him a frostsaber cloak and enough jerky for four days of travel.

Regarde's smile faded like the sun overhead, yawning in its descent behind the western ridge. Life is so precious a gift. Yet there are so, so many begging to have theirs squandered, cast away in wars, or for profit.

A shame.

A harsh wind funneled from the north; the snow cast from overhead branches drifted against his armor, politely begging entrance and then falling with disappointment to the ground. Fingers of cold pressed the joints of his plate, but leather and fur beneath kept him insulated. The tails of his scarf flapped in his wake as he pressed onward, shouldering his weaponry and pulling his thick hood lower.

Blinded thusly by flurries and a hide blinder, he nearly stumbled over the body. Only he did not recognize it as a body at first. Regarde frowned at a pile of black and crimson, unmoving, until he identified lean shoulders and curved hips, a pale face set in an expression of heartbreak and turmoil, light hair artlessly covered in snow.

A woman. A human woman. Alliance. One of the 'Blues'.

His sharp eyes darted in a quick circle, spotting the smear of broken snow where the body had tumbled down the nearby hill, the impact of armor against the dry bark of a fallen birch. He did not bother to climb up there and sort out the rest. If there were more, they would have been the ones to trip over her. And from the sight of things, she'd been here a while. The corners of full lips were threatening to turn blue. Dead, he decided. And turned to be on his way when he noticed the breathing.

They were faint, but the plumes of frosty air came from her small nose all the same.

“Still clinging,” he observed, the warm timbre of his voice muffled by his dark scarf. “You must be in such pain.”

His left hand reached, and he selected his least barbed weapon. A longsword, straight of blade and wickedly sharp at the tip glided from its companions and flipped expertly into his metal hand. His boot pressed against a shoulder, turning her on her back. Her head tipped limply. He might have been deciding where to plant his azaleas, so dispassionate his movements.

“You have lived to your fullest, I am sure. But that time is gone. Your song is sung. Rest, now.”

The edge of his longsword whirled into an inverted grip, and shifting forward, he pressed its tip to her breastplate, just over her heart. And proceeded to lean.

The blade sunk like a finger into cream, puncturing her steel. He sighed, and pushed harder-

Until sudden movement, and Regarde gasped.

A black and crimson gauntlet had snapped up from the snow, and closed around his weapon. The human's eyes remained shut, her mouth pursed unhappily, but her grip was unyielding.

Beneath his scarf, he smiled.

“Perhaps you have the breath for another verse.”

Impressed by her will to live, he sheathed his sword, unclasped his frostsaber cloak, and tried to recall the nearest cave.

A quite tranquil came over the stockades, an infrequent time in which inmates and guards alike gradually adjusted to the approaching dawn. Noikona stood by the bolted bars of her prison cell, waiting. He would soon be here, only this time it would be different. She hadn't perceived at first until last night. The same prisoner that brought her meals everyday was marked. His left shoulder although usually concealed had been unadorned. The torch light had shown clearly a tattoo. Instead of melting into the skin, it had displayed vibrantly, looking almost metallic.

Her eyes narrowed has he approached, his expression hard to read. He shambled heavily favoring his right leg. He was elderly but appeared full of vigor, his grey hair still showing a bit of auburn. He bent to shove the platter through the open gap on the ground, she struck.

Noikona’s arm thrust through the break in the bars, grabbing the back of his neck, forcing his head down against the ground. His gasp was short; his struggles were futile against her weight. With her left hand she exposed his shoulder, her hand brushing against the surface of his skin. He flinched against the temperature of her touch. His mouth opened as he tried to cry out, but he was quickly silenced by Noikona’s increased pressure around his neck.

Noikona changed her hold through the bars, gripping both sides of the man’s head, slowly raising him to his feet. She bent so she could gaze into his eyes, tendrils of emerald flame flickered from her own. She spoke in a hushed tone “Give me it”

He stared back, fear imprinted across his features, the heat from Noikona almost becoming unbearable. Noikona’s lips parted, she pressed them against his own causing his eyes to close tightly, agony shot through his body. His shoulder burned as if he were being skinned alive.

Noikona shivered keeping her lips tightly against his; she could feel the tattoo forming across her own skin. She delighted in his struggles, the pain must be immense. She slowly broke off, keeping her lips parted just above his, letting the kiss linger for a few heartbeats. Panic stricken eyes opened, looking back at her. Noikona smiled at him briefly before her expression changed to one of concentration, filling his mind full of false hope and dismay.

Atrocious images of terror passed into him, breaking his will, causing him to tremble. He broke from her grasp running down the hall in dread.

Noikona calmly picked up the tray of food and sat at the edge of her bunk. She didn't have to look at her shoulder; she knew the tattoo was there. She sighed as she took a bite. Shouts could be heard in the distance, the sound of weapons unsheathing, a yelp, and then silence.

Kosuzu listened to Caleril’s report frowning the entire time. This wasn’t the type of activity she wanted to hear. The rogue sleeper was taken care of for now, if things went well she wouldn’t see the sun from many days. The beauty of it was she hadn’t needed to lift a finger. The device she had implanted should serve as good backup if she were to be released. Now hearing that Lola was off doing her own thing only angered her. She needed focus not stupidity.

Caleril watched the gnome, finishing his report, he spoke with caution “That about sums it up. I lost her in the throng of cultists”

Kosuzu nodded her head replying “That's fine I will take over from here. You have your payment, you may go”

Caleril turned to leave but stopped and looked over his shoulder “Ma’am?”

Kosuzu looked back with a look of irritation “Yes?”

“Um, I know this sounds silly but I have” he stopped, looking embarrassed

Kosuzu looked on impatiently “Spit it out, what troubles you?”

He sighed heavily “Well, how do I say this? I’ve been seeing numbers for several days, like they are right in front of my face. I try to move my hand through them but they disappear.”

Kosuzu studied him for a few heartbeats “Yes, I have heard of this before. May I ask what number you are seeing?”

Caleril shrugged “Two, I don’t know what it means”

She smiled back “Oh I wouldn’t worry about it. Like I said I have heard about this before. It will clear up in a day or so. Nothing to worry about”

Caleril visibly exhaled in relief “Thank you ma’am, I just thought I was going crazy or something. If you ever need me again, you know where to find me”

Kosuzu nodded and turned away, her eyes narrowed as she busied herself with paperwork. A smile crept over her lips, he would be dead tomorrow.

Flaky white drifts surrounding the fallen birch echoed the thoughts in her mind. Fluttering at the whim of the air. Kissing her ears with whispers of death’s promise. The elements and events of the past months combined and conspired against the paladin, enticing her to the razor’s edge precipice between this world and the next. It called to her. It was not forceful and did so without demand. It was a siren’s song luring her into a fatal lassitude.

She offered no resistance. Until. The steel slid almost effortlessly through her breastplate.

Somewhere, in the shadowed recesses of her mind, something moved, shifted. Synapses fired an electric signal as if it were a warning shot at the start of a battle. Sluggish and slow were her thoughts, but her will – her will was not yet ready to let the blade take what time and climate had not been able to. No conscious thought forced her hand to grasp the man’s weapon. Reflex, perhaps, or maybe even survival instinct not yet quashed by the weight of snow on her body, caused her to hold tightly, not allowing the sword to penetrate further.

The blade left her grasp and shortly after, more movement, again involuntary, but not instinctive. Someone else was moving her. Detecting, without sight, for she had not yet found the fortitude to open her eyes, Azheira knew it was a man – a strong one. He had to be to carry her. She was not large, by any stretch of the imagination, but the plate she wore was nearly frozen. Ice cracked into shards and hit the ground around his feet as his movements caused the armor pieces to clink together.

She did not know how long he walked. The rhythm of his stride was a steady cadence and lulled her back into a semi-catatonic state. But when he stopped, she no longer felt the sighs of the wind on her cheeks. Instead, she felt her body being lowered. The ice-coated armor clanked and groaned loudly, some pieces riving as the ice shattered.

His boots made muffled crunching sounds as the snow broke off and was flattened underneath his heels. Footsteps circled her once and then the crunching sounds receded and became distant until she could hear them no longer. Azheira made no move to get up. Even if she wanted to, she could not have. Muscle, sinew and bone had only responded once in the last seven days and did not seem inclined to attempt it again, at least not until they had warmed up a bit. Outwardly, her body did not twitch, but a tremor slithered sensuously along her spine, taunting her with its movement.

She was so very cold.

Drifting precariously close to the precipice again, Azheira barely heard the return of the boots. The sound of a jumble of wood hitting stone did not jar her. Nothing within jerked at the variety of noises the man made. She lay very still, not by choice, necessarily, but as if it was her body’s way of conserving strength in case he decided the sword still had purpose.

Whisk.

A soft whoosh.

Heat.

Her core temperature was so cold her cheeks did not flush at the sudden warmth emanating from the fire. The boots crunched toward her motionless form, he leaned down and pulled back the cloak he had draped over her. She sensed rather than saw his frown. His own armor clinked as he shifted to kneel beside her. A hand pressed against the pauldron cracked by ice on her right shoulder.

A hesitation.

A resigned sigh.

One strong tug at the clasp and both pauldrons were off. He lifted her left hand, the one that had stopped his blade, and removed the gauntlet before doing the same to her right. Soon, all her armor was lying on the rock behind her, leaving only the soft leather undergarments she wore to keep the plate from chafing her skin. Her exposure to the elements had been long and the wet snow had seeped through, leaving the leather wet.

Another heavy sigh.

More armor, larger pieces, made to fit a man’s form, joined hers on the rock. Practiced fingers pulled at the laces on her undergarments. A protesting shriek echoed in her cognizance but was quickly tampered by two more rational thoughts. The icy leather needed to go and if the man had dastardly ideas about her, he could have done so already instead of building a fire.

He shifted to lay behind her and suddenly she felt the heat of his chest on her back, although lower, his legs were still covered by his breeches. The freezing temperature of her skin caused him to suck in a harsh breath, but he settled quickly and pulled the cloak back up to cover them both. Slowly, his warmth began to permeate her cold and aching body.

In her mind, she took a step back from the precipice.

A long drawn out sigh came from Kosuzu as she peered down from the mountain side. The sprawling streets of Stormwind looked back. It had been a hard couple of days, but things had to be done. Lola hadn't been seen in days, it wasn't like her, which bothered Kosuzu a lot. Kosuzu was reluctant to activate Lola’s kill switch, but would if that’s what it would take. The priestess Laura was now under their control, implanted with a motivator and branded. The rogue sleeper had been released, but had also been implanted with a new motivator. She could feel everything starting to come together. The next small step would be to remove the ranking clergy. Once the people began to trust a new leadership, it would be far too late to reverse the damage. The city was about to live up to its name, the clouds were already forming on the horizon.

In a small leather pouch, wrapped in fine scarlet silk was all the remained of the mirror. A fragile piece of glass that had seen the world over. Its jagged edges left exposed, its surface polished to near perfection. The mirror was the most valued possession of the one that held it.

The broken mirror wavered unsteadily in Noikona’s trembling hand. She gazed at her reflection, a daily ritual commanded by her previous handler who undoubtedly had no idea what she had done. It was a command Noikona struggled daily to complete, one that shook her to the core, “Forgive what you see”. What stared back at her was not what others perceived, she saw herself for what she truly was. She beheld the face of a traitor and slaughter. A face that would do everything it could for supremacy and affluence. The reflection was not that of draenei. Emerald fel filled eyes stared back, tiny tendrils of flame flickered periodically, threatening to singe her pure white bangs. The tattoos marking her as an elder warrior of Sargeras traveled down from her eyes along her cheeks, chin and scarred throat. Their blackened appearance melting into her dark maroon skin. Every time she gazed into a mirror, this is what she saw, she detested it.

Slowly she averted her eyes from the sight, folding the mirror back up into its protective cloth. There would be another day and another chance. Sighing heavily she closed her eyes in concentration, her mind opening up to those around her. The link was still there. She bowed her head in satisfaction. She may not be able to use the bond to find her mistress but she could have a feeling of reprieve knowing that as long as the link was present she was alive.

Meeting with the leader of Azheira’s order had been a difficult experience. Her dislike of him was great. She had not forgotten his words while Azheira and her own soul had been exchanged. A time that was disconcerting for both of them. She dreaded now what may be found out. That her own touch could have caused what was distressing her mistress. Down inside it didn’t seem to matter. The well-being of her mistress was more important than her own. It had always been like this, it always would be.

Noikona broke camp for the last time. She was now satisfied that Azheira was not to be found in Felwood. Her own tracking skills were inferior to most, but there were those she could track, for she knew how they thought. The one that had caused the current events to unfold had to be the one responsible. It couldn't be her own doing. It must be the one called Lola.

This thread has run its course. There is a new direction and therefore a new thread:

http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13733703480

Additional plottings can be found here:

http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13242594243

Enjoy! :)

...and I posted this on the wrong character. Oh, well.

((Well it hasn’t run its course entirely. Things will still pop up in here. The following post ties into Blueflame Phoenix http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/13733703480#15 (after the 15th post) , but I don’t wish for that thread to deviate from its current momentum. So in a way it can still fall here))

---

Tired, she was so tired. Fear lingered with dread, plagued her every thought as she pressed on. There was no sense in attempting a soundless approach. Her hooves bit deep into the fresh snow leaving a trail of someone clearly full of urgency. She stopped to catch her bearings, the snow blanketed everything. It had only been a day since her return, but the landscape seemed to be in an endless cycle of change.

Her lilac eyes scanned the landmarks ahead, evening was fast approaching. Haste was the priority. Her left leg protested as she surged forward, the cold wrapped around everything, the joints on her brace squeaked faintly in the unfamiliar environment.

Shadows grew quickly as the sun sank below the horizon, there ominous shapes creating imaginative figures on the featureless white backdrop. The dark maw in the side of the mountain beckoned her to enter. Her hooves struck solid ground, darkness surrounded her.

The blackness was near complete save for a soft pale purple glow, periodically flickering to emerald. Noikona let herself slowly sit on the ground. Relieving herself of her gauntlets, she set to the task of starting a fire.

The flames revealed the familiar site once more. The scarlet ribbed, charcoal armor lay to the side. Its battered remains seeming to be a beacon of some sort. Her now bare fingers delicately slid over its surface. Her thoughts raced on what would cause this. Her eyes narrowed. She brought her finger to the fire, a cut. Peering back at the armor to where her finger had been injured, her eyes recognized a familiar line. A puncture, centered in the breastplate. Her nose burned, her throat constricted, a lone tear meandered down her cheek. She spoke softly, a voice full of dismay “Azheira where are you?”

In the Iron Forge Detention Block AA-23 in Cell 2187

Noikona stood in her cell observing the mechanical device that now took the place of the sleeping form of Sprocketeer. It rattled the lock bringing her meal. Things had not gone well the last time it tried to feed her. If she could just get the darn thing to take off her cuffs, it would be so much easier.

Clocksworth approached “Time to eat”

Noikona decided to try and reason with it “You know. I am just like you. We are both prisoners”

Clocksworth answered “No, you are the prisoner I am the guard. Now open wide”

She shook her head “No, not going to happen. It would be easier if you just took these cuffs off and let me feed myself”

The mechanical contraption answered “That would be against a direct command, given by my master”

Noikona jumped on its last comment “So you lie?”

“Lie?, I don’t lie”

“But you said that you weren’t a prisoner. You have a master and therefore must be a slave of some sort”

There was a long pause before it spoke “No not slave not prisoner. Now you eat”

Noikona smirked “But you follow commands. Can you not think for yourself? And look you are about to feed me, an action of a servant.”

“Am Clockswoth!” it retorted

Noikona sighed “Answer me this. Do servants feed their masters?”

Clocksworth answered slowly “That is a function that has been observed”

A sly grin crested Noikona’s lips as she continued “Are you not feeding me?”

Clocksworth’s answer came slowly “Yes”

“Then what does that make me?”

The answer came out with a bit of confusion “Master?”

***

Noikona didn’t look back, she was sure that machine would soon see its error, her wrists ached but the cuffs were gone, the cold air of Dun Morogh was welcome as she ran through the snow away from the city gates.