#Avehi

[prabhupadadasi]

tvam — yourself; ātmanā — by your own self; ātmānam — the Supersoul; avehi — search out;amogha-dṛk — one who has perfect vision; parasya — of the Transcendence; puṁsaḥ — Personality of Godhead;paramātmanaḥ — of the Supreme Lord; kalām — plenary part; ajam— birthless; prajātam — have taken birth; jagataḥ — of the world; śivāya — for the well-being;tat — that; mahānubhāva — of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Śrī Kṛṣṇa; abhyudayaḥ — pastimes; adhigaṇya-tām — describe most vividly.

Translation

Your goodness has perfect vision. You yourself can know the Supersoul Personality of Godhead because you are present as the plenary portion of the Lord. Although you are birthless, you have appeared on this earth for the well-being of all people. Please, therefore, describe the transcendental pastimes of the Supreme Personality of Godhead Śrī Kṛṣṇa more vividly.

Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 1.5.21

[rausule]

wegneem, vervoer ◊ fair (skip) avehi om te perd (per skip) te gaan.

aufero, transporto aequo (nave) avehi, ire in equis (schepe).

[argonas]

Are We Dead Yet - Pt III: A Way Out

[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini​ & @sylaess​ ]]

Avehi led the trio to a small cave. The term was a generous one; it was a hole in the cliff facing, hardly noticeable from the outside. Avehi only found it thanks to a subtle rune placed over the entrance. Not by her hand, but that of a friend. She peered inside, and once it was determined to be safe, only then did the Draenei lower her guard.

Argonas brought up the rear; his hulking mortal form only barely able to slip inside the cave-- and not without a bit of scraping. Still, he managed inside without drawing too much attention to himself or the cave overall. He loitered by the entrance, not keen on delving too deep in the cloistered space. Keeping watch was as good an excuse as any. He exhaled slow, even breaths to suppress his phobia. Few things gave him anxiety like rightly enclosed spaces. But he set that aside, out of necessity. 

For Sinafay.

His eyes turned to her, still unconvinced she was really there. It seemed… impossible. But he knew it was her. He could feel it, even without being able to touch her. She looked magnificent, even as a weary, time-tortured soul. Her defiance burned, an undiminishing aura that was so uniquely hers. He'd missed it so much.

Avehi was less sentimental in the moment. Of course, she didn't know this Sinafay too well. The similarities with her counterpart were strong, though; she blamed herself less for mixing them up the first time she encountered her, looking for the one she knew from Draenor. On second look… it seemed the two were inescapably linked, even across their different timelines. Curious. She shook her head, and turned to Sylaess; the provider and defender of their makeshift hideout.

"Any sign of Raetos?" Avehi asked her hooded elven friend, slinging her hammer over her shoulder once the cave opened up wide enough to allow it. "I don't know how much time we can spend looking for him."

A small shake of her head was all that was offered. The shaded hood didn’t offer much for expression, but it wasn’t really necessary in the Maw. She shifted, rummaging about the small quarry of supplies she’d netted. Two small packages bound in ebon cloth, to be fair. Food. Waterskins. Bandages. Inane things, but not to be expected of the Acherians.

She knew Argo would need these things. Hoped Raetos was good enough to find himself some forage--though it had a cost. Syl tugged the hemp straps tighter, securing them. A nasty Maw-sworn spear rested on the wall beside the entrance. Another thing she’d stolen. 

She didn’t dare steal more than a few glances at Sinafay. She was glad they’d found her, but the sight of her left Syl more confused than she wanted to wade through at the moment. She knew her, but did she really? She couldn’t exactly recall anything determinate about her, other than that she was Argonas’ mate and that she had caused the unlikely friendship between her and Argo. But there was more! 

She smoothed her hands on her greaves a moment and stood up, shaking her head again. “I can guarantee this place for but a few hours. They move fast on very little intel. Resources are not a concern of theirs.” Picked up the spear and stood quietly at the edge of the cave, watching outward. “I see groups moving up the pathways, but none returning yet. That may be our best bet. Won’t be easy.”

“Nothing worth doing is easy.”

Argonas moved just a bit further inside as Sylaess joined him at the cave’s entrance. He pressed his back to the wall, and exhaled a weary sigh. The Maw was taxing; he expected as much. But he had thought it would be taxing on his soul alone, not his body. And yet moving in this place felt like a chore. His body was an encumbrance, unfit for such a place. The Death Knights and Sinafay had no such burdens upon them; the former eternally strong and used to the feeling of willing their corporeal forms around. And Sinafay clearly didn’t have one to slow her down. Despite his physique, he felt fatigue deeply in this wretched place.

His soul was lifted, at least, as he looked to Sinafay. Getting this far was such a boon! Inspiring! He knew he would find a way to save her from this place. With her free from the Tremaculum, their journey was halfway done! He smiled at her, finding the fortitude to see this through.

Sinafay, for her part, seemed oblivious to everything around her. Everything but Argonas, anyway. Her tail swayed, eyes never leaving him. She didn’t know how many years she’d been in the Maw for, or even what it corresponded to on Azeroth. Argonas certainly looked older… or perhaps it was the beard? She noted some new scars on his features, and the longer hair! Her hand reached forward, but the ghostly limb simply moved through him.

She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to have her body back right now. Despite her disappointment in now being able to touch him, she returned his smile. That sight alone was enough to wash away the weariness of her soul. 

“We shouldn’t stay long, regardless. We need to find Sinafay a vessel of some kind, otherwise we won’t be able to pull her from this place.” Avehi replied to Sylaess, tail swaying in unease. “First, however, we’ll follow the group up the pathways you mentioned. Hopefully, it’ll lead to a way out of this place. In searching for both… maybe we’ll get lucky and find Raetos, too.”

This place was grating. It was the longest Avehi had spent beyond the veil, and it wore on her. The whispers were far too reminiscent of the Lich King’s reign. Worse, somehow. She hated it. 

“What do you think, Sylaess?”

“Yeah.” She side-eyed Argonas a moment. Offered him one of the neatly wrapped packages. She could be empathetic to his situation. It mustn't be fun. Wrapping her gauntlet around the spear, she slipped out into the bleak air. Quiet, despite wearing so much armor, and rather light on her feet. Seems she had recovered enough dignity to look professional. A single glance back was all she gave before she struck out. Scouting ahead.

It wasn’t until the hooded figure came near and handed Argonas a package. Sina tilted her head, taking a closer look at the figure.

“Syl?”

She glanced back, but hurried herself out. Nope. At risk of looking like she had just legitimately run away from a ghost, she tugged her hood and stepped it out. Aimed to melt into the motley grey and bleak of the landscape.

Not much use--anyone living stood out here. At least, in her own perspective. The dead carried a very certain...

What was it, exactly? Aura? No. It was something else. She just bloody knew. 

The eyes on her back raising the fine hairs at her nape was really making her begin to grind her teeth.

“The Jailer will have--!” 

She didn’t hear the rest of it. Took a mace to the head. Her stolen spear went skittering across the stones as if borne by a flood of spiders. Watched it skitter from her descending view.

Well, fuck.

The runes along her armor exploded into that terrible light. Pale blue, like her eyes had once been. Blaringly bright in this place. A massive spike of ice shot up under the scout--was it a scout? Who cares.--and through it’s oddly fleshy body. Syl stood up, roughly brushing herself off with a grunt. Scooped her spear. “I think we need to go now.” The mild displeasure in her voice was clear as the sun. Vicious self mocking at its best. These ... people? Whatever. Assholes, more like, came from thin air it seemed. Sometimes.

Sinafay couldn’t help but smile to herself. Yes, this was most definitely Sylaess. She’d fought along side the Kal’dorei long enough to recognize her movements in a fight. 

It was a bad sign that they’d been found already, though Sinafay wasn’t all that surprised. She stood up and walked over to the mouth of the cave to stand next to Argonas. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his… and of course passed right through.

“She is right. We are out of time. Where is our escape located?”

[thefugitivemango]

Avehi for Raetos, the heart thingy!

VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗💗💗 "Mm, Raetos is a handsome Draenei, indeed. A perfect mixture of rugged and youthful. If only he weren’t a gaudy Lightforged...”

FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗💗💗 "Hmph, when we met, he did not put his best hoof forward. Not at all! But he’s grown a lot since then. Now, I feel we are of one accord. Close friends, able to rely on one another.”

SEXUAL DESIRE: 💗💗💗 “--Aah, well... I believe that door has been closed. If not, however? I would greatly pair with him again. He has a lot to learn, but the inexperience is endearing in its own way. He certainly shows an eagerness to please, too!”

ROMANTIC INTENT:  💔 “... I’ll just say that I’m glad he found someone. Someone else.”

[sylaesschasewind]

Return to Icecrown

The broken sky made her shudder.

Maybe it was her own sickness coming to weigh in, but the sight of it sawed against the last nerves she had that weren’t frayed. A number that was becoming remarkably few.

Sylaess had returned to Acherus--and summarily Icecrown. The dread twisted her stomach, but there wasn’t anything left to expunge. 

Her dignity wasn’t really much of a concern any more. Not here. The Argent Crusaders could look her sideways all they wished. The Acherian simply tugged her cloak tighter in the wind. Luckily it hadn’t managed to rip her hood off just yet. 

Armour creaked. 

“...How has it come back to fighting the Scourge?” 

The wind carried her words away. Tearing at the silk banners on the parapets behind them.

Her eyes drew back to the sky.

“Argonas, I don’t... know what to do.”

She felt tinier than a child. This was way out of her league. 

“First things first.”

A familiar voice approached from behind the Kaldorei, her Draenic accent - while lighter than most - unable to disguise her. Not that Avehi was very subtle to begin with. She stepped out, crystalline hammer slung over her plated shoulder, and stood beside Sylaess.

“Getting these stray Scourge under control is the immediate concern. Then… we stop whatever those things are.”

She pointed up towards the ominous sky; specifically for a winged creature resembling a val’kyr, flying high up against shattered veil. They were few, but clearly not of this world.

“Just like old times, yes?”

She blew out a long-held breath, hoping to scrape up some semblance of that confidence that Avehi displayed.

Who knew if it worked.

“Something like that.” 

Inky eyes fell back on the glacial valley teeming with Scourge once again. An odd sense of been-here-done-this. It left her feeling disgruntled. She knew Avehi, and all at once, she did not. There were alarmingly massive gaps in her memory.

The lanky elf stepped forward on the crunchy snow. Did her best to ignore the broken sky and orange hue. Shuddered anyway.

“What have you got figured out, then?”

“She did this.” Avehi replied, venom in her tone. “She shattered the Helm of Dominion, and the veil shattered with it. Her ties to the Shadowlands run deeper than we thought…”

She grunted, following Sylaess out into the frozen wastes, leaving her own prints alongside the elf’s. Her tone and demeanor both were that of someone who took this all personally. Avehi had long been trying to unravel the mysteries of what was happening beyond the veil. But clearly, she figured it out too late.

“The Four have Him. The Highlord.” she informed her Kaldorei friend. “He’ll know more. For now, we defend.”

She stopped, eyeing Sylaess over as if to assess her. The last time they spoke didn’t instill an abundance of confidence. But seeing that she kept her word here and now was… pleasant. She nodded in appreciation of that fact.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Syl blinked a moment, but didn’t respond. Didn’t know how. Stared at the crystalline hammer a moment.

But it didn’t really matter in the end.

Her head snapped up, the hair on the back of her neck rising. “Sentries.” She pulled a single blade from the pair on her back. Turning a slow circle. Steady. Had she heard them?

The shadowy gargoyles came at them fast from above. Not the valkyr like monsters they’d spoken of, but a remnant of the Scourge. 

“Seven?--no, eight.” 

They were clever, flying in a disorienting pattern. Weaving. Sylaess set her feet and waited for the first to dive.

Avehi eyed them, hammer already drawn and ready. It was odd; no panic or wariness overcame her, only a familiar, practiced anticipation. Excitement, almost. She’d done this thousands of times, both in life and in death. She watched them eagerly as they descended in pairs-- two at a time, for each Avehi and Sylaess. For all the seemingly random circling, they dove in well-coordinated unison.

The two for Avehi dove in a shadow pattern, with one behind the other. She smirked, reaching up to tug the far one down swiftly with a shadowy grip. The gargoyle screeched, crashing into its formation partner to cause them both to plummet down into the snowy fields below. Avehi readied, hefting her hammer up in an arc, then bringing it down atop the two unholy beasts as they crashed into the ground. They shattered like brittle glass beneath the force of her hammer, reverting to mere rock chunks in the frozen wastes. She readied her hammer again for the next wave.

Sylaess met the first sentry with an easily fluid motion. A side-step, sweep of blade and it went tumbling aside. Blood gouted from the severed wing in an arc. 

She threw her left hand out as a counter balance. Light steps. A twist, and the second one blundered into her armored shoulder. Took the grace out of the dance. Her torso jerked back as she brought her blade to bear in a high guard.

In time for the rest to set down upon them. 

It was dream-like. Or like being under water. She found no joy, no rush. No exultant flow of sustaining power. 

Breathe out. Step, slash. Move.

Dispatched the second with a quick thrust. Kicked it off the end of her single blade. The third and fourth were already on top of her--she had no idea how Avehi was doing, but she wasn’t remotely worried for either of their sakes. Just concentrated.

A yank at her cloak had her reeling on a heel as one settled for trying to rip her face off. Silver arc blur of motion from her sword--a pair of clawed hands went tumbling aside. Sylaess shifted her weight, pulling forward on her cloak hard. Enough to bring the sentry along. Fell back hard into the stony creature. A gauntlet came up to remove the clasp of her cloak and she spun away from the tangled creature enough to stab through her cloak and into its head cleanly. The sight of it broke the disconnect. Drew out a weary sigh. “...Fuck you, I liked that coat.”

The lack of cloak meant her head was exposed. The skin on her face had been drawn tight. Withered. The scar was there, but her eyes looked like shining black gems in their hollow sockets. Her lips were cracked, nose healed roughly straight but damn. There’d been some mileage. Damage done. She really did end up looking two steps on the other side of the grave after her last fiasco.

The final two gargoyles swept in from either side of the Draenei; a coordinated pincer maneuver. These weren’t the most mindless of Scourge, but still rather short-sighted in their tactics. As they swooped in, Avehi lowered her hammer in a feigned low guard… but her icy gauntlet clung the hilt firmly. She waited, patiently, as the monstrosities drew closer…

*CRA-CRACK!*

In a precisely timed retaliation, Avehi quickly spun on one hoof, hammer crashing into one and then the other in rapid succession. The gargoyles were knocked back, falling in heaps along the frozen ground. They flailed, attempting to get back up in a hurry-- but one was too slow. The Draenei had already moved in, leapt up, and brought her hammer down to crush the monster’s head. The other, however, managed to get airborne once more. With a screech, it dashed for Avehi as her back was turned, clawed feet gripping her shoulders! It flapped its wings furiously, lifting the Draenei up into the air. 

Avehi grunted in frustration, reaching up to hit and claw at the monster in an attempt to break its grip. Both hands found purchase on one leg. Channeling her unholy strength, Avehi pried the gargoyle’s leg apart, snapping it clean in half! The monster screeched, its wing flapping slowing considerably-- enough to gently descend with its would-be prey back to the ground. Once her hooves met snow again. She tugged hard and slammed the gargoyle into the snow. Quickly, and mercilessly, she followed up by stomping her hoof into the beast’s chest. Once, twice, enough to crack and shatter it at its midsection. She grunted once more, as she hefted her hammer back over her shoulder.

“Are you well?” she asked, turning to Sylaess.

One smooth turn and the sentry that had tried for her face was lighter by a head.

Put that single silver blade away. Weary, wired. The hunger would never be sated. She grunted and extricated her cloak from the stony corpse. Sighed again at the new hole in the side of it that she stuck her fingers through. 

“I’ll continue to scrape my ass along.” 

A quick glance cut at Avehi. “Are you ok?”

“I endure.” came the Draenei’s cursory response. “More will come. Friend and foe alike.”

She motioned up to the necropolis, hovering ominously over the frozen wastes far behind them. Similar gargoyle waves had begun harassing Acherus, warded off by Knights on skeletal gryphons and frost wyrms easily enough. But only a handful of Knights like Avehi and Sylaess were on the ground, protecting the encampment on the ground. The liaison camp between the Ebon Blade and the resurgent Argent Crusade forces.

“The word has reached Alliance and Horde both, I hear. We’ll see what the living manage to send.”

“If they manage.”

The wind howled again, muting her words. She shook her head, letting her eyes rise to the gaping wound in the sky. Her shoulders slumped back, bearing some unknown weight. 

“How the fuck do we fix this?” 

It was self-directed. Bleak.

“I’m... glad to have you near, Avehi.” Softly. She was, truly, but there was no deeper knowledge of why. Nothing substantial left in her memory of their relationship. Had they known each other long? The investigation would need to be done carefully. Her chest felt tight with the level of unknowns she was staring down when she eyed the carefully manicured draenei.

“I’m glad you decided to join me here.” Avehi returned the sentiment, remembering well their shared history. “I feel, one way or another, we’ll find the answer to that question by the end of… whatever this is.”

She motioned vaguely to… everything. The restless Scourge, the shattered sky, the congregation of forces rallying. Not since the march on Icecrown Citadel had this place been so tumultuous. Avehi feared whatever was happening here fell in that same vein of severity. But it was better, strangely, back then. At least then, she knew what had to be done. No one had such luxury now.

“Come, let’s return to the camp.” she suggested, turning back that way herself. “Others aren’t as skilled as we are. They’ll need our help, surely.”

Her lips curled to a smirk as she glanced over her shoulder-- prideful, perhaps? Unabashed, all the same. It was strange, even to her, where she drew excitement these days. Dismal as it seemed, she seemed… excited to face the challenge. Perhaps because she saw it coming so long ago. Even though she found no immediate solution, nor managed to prevent it… her work over the last few months had been in preparation for this. This sky-shattering. This tear in the veil. Others who had opposed her now came to fight at her side. It was satisfying.

Vindicating.

Sylaess just nodded mutely while she replaced her ragged cloak and pulled the hood up. Though she managed to not clutch the lined inside of her cloak, she hid the tremors in her nearly skeletal hands with the folds of it.

It wasn’t going to get easier. But she had made the choices to bring herself into this situation. The lack of chaotic Old God blessing left her struggling on the surface of some unknown ocean. Absently, she wondered about the void elf and his journey out of this. Did he truly make it, or had she hallucinated that, too? 

Some of Avehi’s confidence seemed to buoy her out of the worst of it. She leaned into that mentally like a crutch. 

One step at a time, Syl. Move.

[kidcatgeminiart]

Avehi the Adamant

Completed commission piece of @thefugitivemango / @avehi-the-adamant ‘s wonderful Draenei gal!

Drawn and colored with Photoshop CS6 and Wacom Cintiq tablet.    

~*~*~

Like my art? Buy me a coffee!

Ko-fi | DeviantArt | Commission Info

[kaiekasunwhisper]

Hello On the Other Side

(( Co-written with @grakkar-gorefang / @thefugitivemango / @argonas . @avehi-the-adamant​ , @brent-sunborn​ and @sinafay-the-defiant for character mention.))

~*~*~

The fighting was done. Grakkar slowly felt the fatigue set in as his adrenaline began to die off. It had been a long day; at least, in his perspective. Time seemed to work differently here in the Shadowlands, with people who had been dead for only a few years saying they’d been here much, much longer. It made him wonder how much time had actually passed on Azeroth… if it were shorter than it felt, hopefully it meant his beloved mate and daughter wouldn’t miss him as much as he missed them. Which, by now, was a tremendous amount.

He shook his head, securing his axe down in the desiccated dust that comprised most of Maldraxxus’ ground. Blood and bile that caked it had turned a sickening shade of greyish blue. Something he’d have to wash off once he got back to Bastion. That couldn’t come soon enough. He’d grown tired of this place.

His Soulbind, Argonas, had joined Avehi and the rest of the Necrolord leaders inside the Seat of the Primus, a large statue of what many Maldraxxi revered as the greatest military mind the Shadowlands had ever known. Argonas was eager to meet and speak with Avehi the Adamant, a mutual friend and recent ally of the Necrolords. They had much to discuss following the fall of the House of Constructs. But Grakkar wasn’t much of a talker, and opted to wait outside. He sat down on a bench-- or large femur?-- and sighed. Lips curling to a small smile in the aftermath of a good and glorious battle!

Kai’eka watched him from her position not too far away, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. After all the trouble Grakkar had gone through to be with his stupid mate, what was he doing in the Shadowlands? Had they split up again? She felt a familiar stir of emotions as the possibility of him being single again was entertained. Not for long, however. She shook her head, remembering how disgustingly vulnerable he’d made her last time. She wasn’t interested in that sort of pointless, fleeting thing…

She picked up a small rock and tossed it at the Orc’s head, minding her undead strength. 

“Hey, Dumbass! What’s got you hanging out with dead people?”

"--Hrm?"

The Orc turned as the rock whizzed past his head; a near miss, thanks to his post-battle jittery reflexes. Seeing Kai'eka became even less reason to try and relax in this battle-scarred place. He stood, offering the Death Knight a forced smile and casual wave. Avehi wasn't lying-- there she was, eyes aglow with that telltale lichfire. It was still so vexing to think she had been a Twilight Cultist all along… it really made the Orc carry on with more caution around people. He couldn't take anyone for face value anymore. Still, Avehi had said Kai'eka was reformed in her undeath. Now an Ebon Knight, like she was. He afforded Kai'eka a cursory trust on Avehi's word alone. The Draenei was honest, to a brutal degree. And had earned his respect and favor in caring for his beloved. 

Still, an uneasy feeling welled up within him as he looked upon Kai'eka. One he just… couldn't shake.

"They know how to do an exciting battle, I heard. Had to see for myself." Grakkar replied, smirking. "You're looking good, for being dead now."

The Death Knight shrugged, pushing herself off the rock wall and walked over to sit by the Orc… at least, as close as he’d allow. She rested her large sword up next to his axe against the femur. It actually felt nice being next to him without that drive kicking in. It made it all the more easy to keep her mind clear.

“Best I’ve ever been,” she answered. An exaggeration given her recently broken rune weapon. In truth, she felt exhausted and stretched thin. Nothing he needed to know. “Should have taken this route a long time ago.”

She glanced to him, her expression ever neutral.

“Thought you were done fighting. Settling down with your wife or whatever…”

A grunt came, as the Orc's response. Familiar enough to Kai'eka to be one of affirmation. Orcs had a grunt for every occasion. 

"We have a farmstead, in Arathi." He nodded, proudly. "My daughter, Neelah, grows stronger every day. A warrior to be, no doubt."

He shifted, turning to better face his old friend. He wasn't shy in looking her over; though he hardly looked at her the way he once did. Platonic, now. For more reasons than one. Her armor was familiar enough; he had seen enough Ebon Knights with plate of similar craft. Just one sword, though? That was new. Her eyes, however, drew the bulk of his attention. He wasn't used to seeing the azure flames of undeath flickering from them. Unsettling, yet entrancing. 

"The Ancestors, however, had something else in mind for me. Close brushes with death sometimes strengthen our connections in that way." He shrugged. "They called me here, to help save them from the Maw."

She raised an eyebrow at that. Grakkar had always seemed rather removed from the spiritual way of things. She didn’t think he was lying, but how odd that they wouldn’t call upon a shaman instead. Of course, it wasn’t as though they had ever talked about such things before… and she wasn’t exactly open to such talks now, either way. 

“Well, don’t be getting yourself killed in the process,” she smirked, “Not sure how things work if you die on this side of the veil. Plus, I wouldn’t mind visiting your farm for the occasional spar once this is over.”

She brought an arm up to punch him in the shoulder, before changing the subject.

“How’s my stupid lizard?”

“Dumb as ever. The sounds he and Kronk make keep wolves off the farmstead, at least.” Grakkar chuckled, recoiling slightly from the punch. “He’s being well taken care of. I promise.”

He looked at Kai’eka again, appraisingly. He wanted to ask what she was doing here. But then again, he figured she was doing the same thing Avehi was-- trying to fix whatever broke on this side of death. He looked away, glancing down at the bone dust beneath his boots. It made for a period of somewhat-awkward silence between them… a silence that in meetings long before this one would’ve been otherwise filled. 

The thought now made him shudder.

“--You, er… you’re missing a sword, looks like.” he commented; anything to break the silence.

Her ears twitched at the statement. The memory alone of losing her blade tore her up. The physical pain had been intense, but the emotional toll it took on her was indescribable. It was like losing part of herself. More than the bond between an Ebon Knight and their rune weapon, she’d earned her swords early on in her cultist life. She’d gathered the pieces of the shattered weapon. Perhaps, one day, she’d find a blacksmith that she trusted enough to reforge it.

Outwardly, she shrugged as though they were talking about the weather.

“Avehi decided to get pissy over a misunderstanding. Broke the blade fighting her.”

She didn’t mention she’d lost the fight, of course. 

“Apparently, I have poor judgment in picking sides,” she rolled her eyes, “Moody bitch.”

“Heh, she seems like. I only met her once, but she gave me a death stare. Like… a literal death stare, like she was trying to kill me in her head.” Grakkar added, shaking his head. “Then later, after our farm was attacked, she stood vigil so Sinafay, Neelah and I could sleep peacefully.”

He shrugged, chuckling a bit at the absurdity of the two drastically different encounters he’d had with their mutual friend. He seemed to speak about her with a sense of reverence… and fear. One more than the other, it seemed. 

“We owe her a lot. She’s been a dear friend to Sina.”

He looked Kai’eka over, lips pursing a bit around his tusks. Another shrug.

“... She was the one who told me you died. And… that you were a Twilight Cultist.” he admitted. “While we, erm… between our visits, you weren’t really on Alliance business, huh?”

Kai’eka’s expression remained neutral, though her ears flickered slightly, surprised that Avehi had disclosed that information. It wasn’t something she wanted spread around, and she’d hoped the Death Knight would respect that. Her facade gave way to a frown. Who else knew? 

A question for another time. For now, she debated how to answer Grakkar’s question. She could lie, but he’d been as honest as he could be with her in all their time together. She sighed, casting her gaze to the side.

“I joined the Twilights in my early adulthood. Devoted my life to it. When I got stranded with you, I wasn’t collecting Azerite for the Alliance. It was for the Twilights. When we bumped into each other in Naz’jatar, my partner and I were working with the naga, killing and sacrificing Alliance and Horde soldiers indiscriminately, for the Masters,” she shrugged, “I never had any doubts about the cause I was fighting for. I died for it, more than once, without regret. Even when it all went to shit. Once I died for good, though… saw the Maw,” she shook her head, “All one big motherfucking lie.”

Her gaze returned to his, gauging his reaction. It felt strange, opening up to him again. It was like that first night they’d talked by the fire. This time, without the sexual tension. It was odd. She’d only ever spoken like this with Brent.

“Thankfully, for you, you’ve got a great cock. So, no. You were never in any danger.”

Grakkar’s expression was… neutral. Neutral for him. Brow furrowed, bottom lip pushed a bit forward. He was fighting a frown, it was plain to see. Slowly, he shook his head before looking at Kai’eka again.

“... I had no idea. To choose so poorly… to align yourself with a destructive power like that…”

He narrowed his eyes at Kai’eka for a tense moment. Judgingly-- no, not judging? Looking straight at him, his expression was no frown of anger, but one of sorrow. He reached his hand out, and planted it on Kai’eka’s shoulder. He sighed.

“I know what that’s like.” he admitted, nodding sympathetically. “I was blindly following my Warchief back on Draenor. When he told us that the Iron Horde would conquer worlds, I believed him. I fought for him, killing countless innocent people. Not just Draenei, but fellow Orcs too.”

Another heavy sigh, as his arm fell from Kai’eka’s shoulder, back down beside him. 

“It’s easy to get caught up in the wrong cause, sometimes. Neelah, my first mate, showed me how wrong I was in those days. Saved me from making any more terrible mistakes.” he went on. “We need people like that. Outside perspectives from those who care for us. If I had known back then, I--”

He tensed, eyes widening at the slip. Quickly he cleared his throat. 

“--That is… maybe I could have helped you see a better path. Without you having to die to see it, anyway.” he shrugged. “Though… you said it’s been working out well for you, too. So maybe not.”

He looked away, back out at the scenery-- if you could call it that-- of Maldraxxus. 

Kai’eka wasn’t entirely certain how to respond. She expected anger and criticism, and would have almost preferred it. That, at least, was familiar. She glanced to his hand as it rested on her shoulder, fighting the instinct to smack it away. Memories of how wonderful those hands had made her feel in the past… Strangely, they comforted her in a different way now.

Her features softened as he spoke of the Iron Horde. While he hadn’t spent six hundred years following the wrong cause, he at least understood the situation she’d gotten herself into. She was thankful he had someone able to pull him out before it was too late.

“It’s best you didn’t know,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I was part of a close knit group… we watched each other’s backs, and dealt with anyone who posed a threat to the cause, quickly and efficiently. One or both of us would have ended up dead. With no one to revive us for the better.”

Another shrug of the shoulders, “I know, because I did that for others. My brother… I killed his lover when I noticed the relationship started pulling him away from the Twilights. And then, eventually, I killed -him- too. Probably about a week before you broke things off with me. So… I think things worked out for the best.” She nodded, “You got the family you were fighting for, and I got a second chance to fight for a better cause. Hopefully, I’m killing for the right people this time.”

“--Wait, you killed him yourself?” Grakkar half-gasped, surprised. “I… Ancestors, I can’t begin to imagine what that must’ve been like.”

He commented… but opted not to dwell on that detail too long. He imagined it was a sensitive issue, especially considering that she died, as well. Was he around here somewhere, he wondered…?

“--Either way, you’re right. I think we both found better paths for ourselves. Somehow.” he chuckled lightly, to attempt to lighten the mood. “And I know it didn’t amount to anything, but… I enjoyed our, uh… associating, back then.”

Ugh. That felt like something Argonas would say. So tactful and proper, rather than just saying it straight up. This soulbinding had its drawbacks…

“You’re a good fuck. And an even better fighter.” he added bluntly, as he preferred. “I’m glad we met. And glad you’re still around.”

Despite her best efforts, a contented smile formed on her usually hard features. It felt good to finally open up to him. Other than Brent, she’d never felt this close to anyone before. It was both comforting and frightening at once. And she had to fight a knee jerk reaction to push him away.

“Mutual,” she replied, “I uh… I’m pretty shit at making friends, for obvious reasons. So… it’s nice, you know… when people stick around. Even when I do my best to push them away.”

She half expected Brent to step out of the shadows and poke fun at her after this, but somehow knew he wouldn’t. Something had certainly changed since she’d died. He never bothered to check up on her anymore. She tried not to dwell on it much, but it upset her much more than she wanted to admit.

She reached out to take his large hand, slipping a pointed rune etched object into it.

“That being said. If ever you’re looking for a good spar, or just someone to join you in battle, don’t hesitate to contact me. You can use this to reach out,” she nodded to the object she’d placed in his hand, a pit lord fang, “Just concentrate on the rune, speak into it, and I’ll get the message. Not entirely sure how it works. Magic’s not my specialty. Never was. Still new to the whole Ebon Blade shit. Also, you might want to warn your wife that I’ll be showing up at the farm from time to time to check up on Doofus.”

“Hah, alright. We’re used to Death Knight friends popping in from time to time, so I don’t think she’ll mind.” He nodded, pocketing the runed fang. “We’ll definitely have to spar sometime. I haven’t had a good one-on-one fight in a while, so that’ll be fun to have a friendly match. See how much stronger you are, now that you’re undead.”

With that, Grakkar’s attention was drawn upward-- the squadron of Kyrian took flight from the Seat Overlook. Which meant Argonas wouldn’t be far along behind them. It seemed their mission was finally over, here-- and not a moment too soon!

“Well, that’s my cue. My Soulbind will be along in a bit, and then we’re headed back.” he explained, as he stood up and picked up his axe. “But it was really good to see you again, Kai.”

“--Kai? Kai’eka?”

A less-familiar voice rang out from the stairs above them. The clopping and clanking of plated hooves echoed through the air as Argonas descended, eyeing the Death Knight.

“Well met! Quite a coincidence, finding you here.” he nodded, drawing close.

“--Ah, er, um… you know each other?” Grakkar asked, brow askew.

“We sparred once, I believe. In Stormwind. But do not worry, Grakkar-- not the kind of sparring you do with her, yes?”

The Orc snarled at Argonas, shoving his shoulder to turn him away-- another unfortunate side effect of the Soulbinding. He pushed and followed after Argonas quickly, waving quickly back at Kai’eka.

“--We, uh… we gotta go!” he said, hastily. “Good catching up! See you around, yeah?”

“Yes, always a pleasure, Warchief!” Argonas added, smirking.

Kai’eka’s expression went from content, to puzzled, to angry, all in the short span of Argonas showing up. She snarled at the pet name and stood up, gripping her sword. She had half a mind to throw it at the retreating pair, but thought better of it. Losing one rune blade had been enough for today.

“Motherfucker...” she grumbled to herself, before heading up the stairs to meet Avehi.

One thing was for certain, Grakkar would have questions to answer when next they met!

~*~*~

[codegemini]

Are We Dead Yet? Pt.II - The Tremaculum

 (( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant​ ))

 ~*~*~

Sinafay kept her head low, hair hiding her features as her tormentor floated away, seeming satisfied with his work. Her ghostly form still trembled from the inflicted pain, but her concealed expression was that of a defiant grin. It took a moment for her head to clear, but once it did, she brought her head back up and peered around.

 One was never really alone in the Tremaculum. There were plenty of sentries and tormentors about. For now, none were watching her. Prisoners were never really active after torture sessions. Even now, Sinafay knew she didn’t have the energy to do much. But she had enough for what she needed. 

 Glancing down to her side, her tail came into view. The end was curled up tightly, one would assume, out of pain. But there was another reason for it. It had been busy during her session, when her torturer had been deep in concentration. Slowly, it uncurled just enough to reveal a key. Her smile widened. 

 Her tail’s movements remained slow, as she kept her head low, peeking through her hair to make certain she wasn’t being watched. It took some time, but eventually, it managed to unlock the shackles holding her wrists, before tucking the key away, out of sight.

 For now, she kept the unlocked shackles on. She didn’t have the energy to attempt an escape… not yet, anyway. So she waited, either until she regained her strength or until a distraction broke out. Whichever would come first.

In a brilliant flash, the latter arrived, as every Mawsworn turned their attention towards the outer ramparts. A flash that could only be the Light in such a dismal place as this. Again, another eruption of brilliance washed over the Tremaculum, accompanied by the increasing sounds of battle. The clashing of steel and the unholy shouts of the denizens of the Maw as they were defeated one after the other. The tormentor hovered back from the commotion cautiously, as the source of the uproar was revealed.

 Argonas.

 He turned the corner, armored body aglow in holy Light, as he bashed down every shadehound and sentry that dared to approach him. It was him in his entirety, not just his soul cast down in death like before-- that much was clear by the intensity of his aura and the potency of the Light that radiated from him in all directions. 

 But the Light brought with it a shadow; he wasn’t alone in his infiltration of the Tremaculum. Following him around the corner came another familiar figure who had once visited Sinafay here in the Maw. Unlike Argonas, Avehi’s aura was one of death and cold, felt in stark contrast to the warm glow of the Light the living Vindicator brought with him. She reached out, shadows clinging between her hand and the tormentor to rip him towards her. The Maw monstrosity shrieked, immediately barraging the Death Knight with a flurry of spells-- none of which hit their mark as they were repelled harmlessly by a sickening icy blue shell that encapsulated her. She hefted her hammer up, then brought it down swiftly to decimate the tormentor in one heavy strike, leaving only the metallic crown and ghastly robes in a heap on the ground before her.

 The two were anything but subtle, attracting the attention of everything in the keep, it seemed! And yet nothing could stand against the two of them working in tandem as they pressed their invasion further. Avehi was the first to hone in on Sinafay’s soul; though to be fair, she was much more honed to the spirits of the afterlife than her living compatriot. 

 “Argonas.” she called his attention forward, as her lichfire eyes fell upon the familiar soul they’d come seeking.

 He turned promptly, following Avehi’s gaze to see his beloved. He couldn’t help his eyes from welling up, both to see her in shackles like this… but also just to see her again. He stepped forward immediately to make his way to the soul of his beloved Sinafay. Avehi held her position, watching their escape route closely to provide cover for the heartfelt reunion.

 “I told you I would come for you!” he declared, smiling wide. “And here I am!”

Sinafay felt her heart soar at the sight of him. She took no time to unclasp the shackles, pushing her exhaustion aside to get up on her hooves. Her vision blurred momentarily, and her ears rang at the sudden motion, but she pushed through and ran towards and into the arms of her lover.

 —at least, that had been the plan. It wasn’t until her ghostly form passed through him and she landed on the rocky ground that she realized it. He wasn’t a spirit, like her. Despite the tormentors’ abilities to make her -feel- like she had a body, this was a harsh reminder that she had no physical form. It all felt so horribly cruel, to be so close to her love, but unable to touch him. 

 She felt the intense heaviness of the Maw overcome her, wanting to cry but having no tears to shed. Her look of sorrow hid behind her hair, but her slumped shoulders as she sat up conveyed the emotions well enough. 

 Argonas knelt down beside his mate, frowning heavily. He reached for her, though clearly saw that wouldn’t pan out as he hoped. She was, to him, intangible. 

 “Avehi, why can I not--”

 “She’s still just a soul, Argonas.” Avehi huffed, glancing over. “What did you expect? We have to get her out of here first.”

 But even the Death Knight didn’t have a solid plan to overcome that obstacle. She glanced to her hammer, eyeing the crystalline head-- more specifically, the entity she’d locked away inside. She recalled binding Rokaa’s soul to the crystal vessel back on alternate Draenor, once she killed him. It was the only way to keep him from simply recurring again and again. The hammer pulsed, as if Rokaa was returning Avehi’s scrutiny. Sinafay would need something similar to house her.

 “She needs a vessel.” Avehi added, approaching the two. “Sinafay, have you seen any of these Maw creatures force a soul into anything like that?”

 Sinafay took a moment to regain her composure, letting out a sigh and rolling her shoulders back. Despite the crushing feeling being unable to touch Argonas brought about, she was still relieved he was there. Him and Avehi both! 

 She shook her head, moving her hair out of her face at the question. 

 “No,” she answered, “Soul chains and portals are the regular transport to get prisoners across the Maw or into Torghast. There are cages and soul traps scattered about, but nothing I have seen used as a vessel. And I haven’t heard of anyone traveling to and fro from the Maw…”

 She looked from Avehi, to Argonas. Spirits! She still couldn’t believe he was right there with her!

 “How did you get here?” She couldn’t help but ask, but was cut off at the sound of wings flapping. 

 She looked up at two figures in the sky, black feathery wings on their backs and spears in their hands. Mawsworn Myrmidon…

 “We need to leave. Now. Find a cave… or something…”

 Unsurprisingly, their infiltration had drawn more attention. With everything else happening down here in the Maw, other Azerothian forces breaching in to save their wayward leaders, Avehi had hoped they’d have more time. But it seemed now that time had run out. Just as well; she had a plan in mind for that, too.

 “We sent another to secure such a hiding place.” Avehi replied, narrowing her gaze up at the descending Mawsworn. “Move quickly, and we’ll make our way there.”

Argonas stood up, and motioned for Sinafay to follow Avehi as she began to return back the way they had come. The path they’d cut into the Tremaculum was still clear… for now.

 Sinafay’s ghostly hand reached and took hold of a Mawsworn dagger that had been dropped in the battle. While she was immaterial, weapons and tools that could be used to torment and bind spirits could also be used by spirits. With that, she got up and followed Avehi out of the battle zone as indicated. It was difficult for her, backing out of a fight, but she’d been in the Maw long enough to know her limits. She was still weakened from the tormentor, and knew the presence of Myrmidon would bring about stronger foes if they remained to fight.

 Thankfully, Avehi and Argonas had done an excellent job fighting their way in, so the escape went smoothly enough. Argonas managed to strike down the few forces that tried to follow. She looked back from time to time, watching her lover fight, nearly tripping over her own hooves at the distraction. How long had it been since she’d been able to admire him in battle —wielding the Light at that! He was more battle worn than she remembered… his hair was longer, and the facial hair was new. She fancied the older look it gave him. How had he gotten hotter?

 Somehow, she managed to tear her gaze away from him for the moment. She’d have plenty of time to stare whenever they got to safety.

~*~*~

[raetos]

The Soul Dagger

(( Scene co-written with @thefugitivemango​ / @avehi-the-adamant . Fable belongs to @darkestfable . @argonas​ and @codegemini​ for character mention.

Follows the stories: The End and Homecoming ))

~*~*~

2 Months Ago ~ Tanaris

The Lightforged's tail twitched anxiously as he smoothed a loose strand out of a motionless Fable's face. The void elf was barely clinging to life, his face was pale, his pulse weak; almost non-existent, leaving his extremities cold, although his body still seemed to produce some heat. His breathing was so shallow, one had to lean in and pay close attention to notice it. Raetos had initially thought him dead upon finding him at the dig site. The only clues towards his assailant being a stab wound, footprints left behind by what he suspected was a female elf, and of course, the missing artifact.

He glanced towards the door as he sensed the Ebon Knight’s approach. His cheeks were still wet with tears from crying.

Avehi stepped inside the inn, scowling. She brushed a bit of sand from her tabard, before causing a rune to glow on her hammer-- the air about her grew chilly as she set her gaze upon the one that had called her here.

“This had better be good, Raetos. I despise this place.”

"Avehi! You... you have to bring him back!"

“Bring who b--” Avehi stepped in, eyes affixed to Fable. Her frown deepened, "... What happened?"

“I found him like this... you have to. You can do it, right?!”

She approached, and held her hand out, palm hovering a few inches from Fable's chest. Raetos backed away to give her space, wiping his face with the back of his forearm. But then she sighed, brow furrowing. 

"Dark magic is at play, here. His soul has been severed, but his body is..."

"He went on a dig... didn't come back... so I went to find him and.... I dunno what happened. He was stabbed in the back, but I couldn't find a weapon...."

Avehi raised a brow. Without much effort, she rolled Fable's body to the side to observe... 

"Tch. A soul dagger? I haven't seen a wound like this in years, Raetos. Ritualists of the Cult of the Damned used to sever souls in such a manner, leaving the bodies intact like Fable's, so the parts remain fresh.”

“So... so it should make it easier to bring him back, then, right?”

Avehi stepped back, arms crossed. 

"Harder. Much harder. As long as the dagger remains, his soul will remain detached. Imagine a dagger in your chest. The wound won't heal until the dagger is removed, yes? This is the same, but... for the soul. Does that make sense?” she shook her head, and sighed. "I cannot do as you ask."

Raetos frowned, shaking his head, "There has to be a way. Avehi... there's gotta be something... anything..." He reached out to grab her shoulders, teary eyes gazing into hers, pleading, "Please, Avehi."

“Until you can find the dagger that did this... I'm sorry, Raetos. There's nothing to be done. I could not even finish killing him and raising him, as he is now. No fragment of his soul lingers, thanks to this wound. I could not find him from here to bind him back to... anything. His corpse, or anyone else's.”

Raetos shook his head again, "Then how do I find the dagger?!"

“I imagine whoever did this to him still has it. Do you know of any enemies he has? Anyone who would do this to him?”

"I... I don't know. He said he has a past but... but he never talked much about it… What about his soul? This... this spell thing... it at least keeps it from the Maw, right?

“I... cannot say. By itself? No. Unless whoever did this to him preserved his soul elsewhere... it's safe to assume he's in the Maw, now.  And with as many souls that are stuck there now? It will be nearly impossible to find him.”

Raetos' grip tightened on her shoulders, "Then I have to try! You're taking Argonas there, right? To save Sina? To the Maw?”

Avehi shifts, frowning at the notion. "... The Ebon Blade is mobilizing. We... may have a way into the Maw. But it is a huge unknown, Raetos. We don't know how a living mortal can maintain themselves in a place like that."

“I don't care! If I can find his soul, then he can tell me who did it. He can tell me what happened!”

She was pensive a moment, tail flickering back and forth as her brow knit in thought. "That is true... and we could preserve his soul until we find the dagger if we manage to retrieve it. We don't have much time, then. You need to do exactly as I say, do you understand?”

Raetos nods, "I'll get his body to a healer... so that he stays safe. After that, I'll do anything that needs to be done. It's all I've got to go on. If I can't bring him back from this... then I'll stay in the Maw. I don't care... I can't--” he closed his eyes, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I'd prepare for that possibility, yes.”

“At least... we'll be together there.”

“Eh... probably not. But at least you'll be suffering too much to think about it.”

The words earned her a nasty look. She shrugged lightly. "Meet Argonas and I in Icecrown when you've secured his body somewhere safe. I think I can sneak you both in with us, if you dress as a Knight of the Ebon Blade. Then, we'll go in, and see if we can't find Fable, as well as Sinafay. With any luck... we'll at least get one or both of them out of the Maw and into a better place until we figure out what to do next.”

The Lightforged finally released her shoulders, "Thank you..."

“Don't thank me yet. Fortunately for you, it's on my way, anyway. Unfortunately for you... there's no guarantee it will work. At all. But if you're willing to die for this elf? I will not be the one to stop you.”

“I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try,” Raetos turns back towards the unconscious Ren’dorei, scooping him up gently into his arms, "I'd do anything for him."

Avehi scoffed, "Hmph. You Living certainly like to throw that phrase around carelessly. I think you underestimate what you can live with. And what you can live without."

Raetos snarled at that, "It's my choice to make. I love him, Avehi."

The Ebon Knight stared at him searchingly for a moment, “ ... Then I'll see you in Icecrown. We'll see if your love is strong enough to endure the Maw. Prepare yourself accordingly.”

~*~*~

[sinafay-the-defiant]

Nearer to Death

((Story co-written with @grakkar-gorefang / @thefugitivemango . @argonas​ and @avehi-the-adamant for character mention))

~*~*~

So small, so precious… 

Grakkar was always in amazement when he held little Neelah in his arms. She’d grown quite a bit, but the orc could still hold her (mostly) in one hand. He cradled the sleeping little one close, palming the back of her head while her body rested along his forearm. She slept so peacefully… blissfully unaware of anything that had happened these past few weeks. --Well… not entirely. She got fussy around Sinafay, seeming to sense her tension. That didn’t make things any easier, Grakkar knew. A part of him was sure that it was his mate’s need for help that helped him heal as fast as he did… which still took time, of course. He’d died, after all. And he wasn’t the young, sturdy orc he was on Draenor…

Still, now that he could, he helped as much as he was able. Tending to Neelah wasn’t much of a chore for him anyway, but a reprieve from the constant attention she demanded was a boon to Sinafay. Grakkar didn’t mind. She was a gift, in every sense of the word. He never thought he’d have a child of his own; less so with a Draenei! He thought he was infertile, and knew Draenei pregnancies were a rarity. And yet here she was, a beautiful mix of her mother and him-- fortunately, a bit more of her mother-- sleeping soundly in his arms. Even coming back from the dead was only the third-luckiest event in his life. The second, meeting Sinafay. The first, Neelah. 

“... Grakkar…”

Grakkar winced, and grunted. Another nameless whisper echoed from the back of his mind. A voice he didn’t recognize, calling out his name. He heard them clearly more often his dreams, but… sometimes, throughout the waking day, he’d hear them. It wasn’t always the same voice, and they didn’t always call out his name. All of this starting after he came back from that place… from the Maw. In truth, a part of him didn’t believe Sinafay when she’d told him what her Ebon Knight friend had said. It had seemed so outlandish a claim. But seeing it for himself… it was now undeniable. Countless souls trapped in such a terrible, desolate place! He wondered… were they the voices he was hearing? According to clan shamans, near-death experiences often awoke a spiritual connection between a person and the afterlife.

And Grakkar had come as close to death as anyone could get.

For now, he pushed the concerns from his mind. He wasn’t going to let these strange voices dampen his appreciation for lasting to another sunset with his daughter. Gently, he put Neelah down in her bassinet, and swaddled her in a warm blanket. 

“Sleep in peace, my little one.” he smiled, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on her hardening forehead. “Know that I love you, now and always.”

Sinafay smiled from the doorway as she watched her mate put their daughter to bed. She’d never imagined herself as a mother, but having a child with Grakkar was by far the best thing that had ever happened to her. She hadn’t been able to cherish these moments as of late, too tired and stressed to appreciate them after Argonas’ sudden attack. She’d been far too on edge, suspicious of every odd noise and movement on the farm. 

Avehi’s arrival was a relief in more than one way. Not only did it bring her precious information on what was going on after that horrible event, but it gave her a much needed rest from her exhausting vigil. With the Ebon Knight and her drake guarding the farm, Sinafay was able to get a bath and some much needed sleep. She wasn’t certain how many hours she’d been out for, but she’d woken up on time to see the touching display between her mate and their daughter.

“You’re going to spoil her, aren’t you?” She teased, with only a light Draenei accent in her Orcish now. She kept her voice low, as to not wake the sleeping infant.

Tail swaying, she walked over and wrapped her arms around Grakkar’s torso from behind, pressing her naked chest to his back as she hugged him tightly.

“Fatherhood suits you well,” she purred.

“Only paired with your motherhood.” Grakkar replied, hands closing over his mate’s.

He exhaled a sigh; gazing down at his daughter, feeling his wife’s warm embrace… this was perfect. A paradise he never knew he wanted. A dream from which he never wanted to wake.

“... help us…”

The moment passed, spoiled by yet another voice calling from the back of his mind. The messages were usually similar. “Help up, save us…” most disconcerting. He wished he knew where they were coming from. Rather… knew for sure. He parted Sinafay’s hands from around his waist to turn in her embrace.

“Come, speak with me.” he bid her, before passing her by on his way out of the room.

Sinafay tilted her head curiously. Speaking hadn’t exactly been what she’d been looking for, but at this point, any alone time with Grakkar was a good time. It certainly beat her standing guard over the farm alone. She -did- often wonder what was on his mind since his return to the living. He didn’t enjoy speaking of what he saw, the memories disturbing, so she didn’t like to push. Perhaps he was ready to speak on it now?

She followed him out of Neelah’s room and into their own. The bed was simple, but large and sturdy, covered in pelts from the various creatures Grakkar had managed to hunt down and bring home. The Draenei sat on the bed, tail curling around her form as she took Grakkar’s hands in hers.

“What’s on your mind, My Love?”

Grakkar was silent for a moment, simply holding Sinafay’s hands as he stood before her. Thumbs traced over the backs, then along the sides of her thumbs. He stared off at her chest-- not so much ‘at’ as ‘through’, contemplatively. Slowly, he organized his thoughts, piece by piece, before his gaze met his Mate’s. A natural smile formed over his lips; a reflex, feeling the warmth of her golden globes shining into his. He couldn’t help it, even in spite of the heavy topic weighing on his mind.

“I, uh…” he began, already seeming to lose his focus in her shimmering gaze. “I… think often about our village’s shaman, back on Draenor. Otrok.”

He cleared his throat, before sitting down beside Sinafay on their bed. It creaked, as it always seemed to when they both occupied it. He’d have to reinforce it again, for the second time this season. But that could wait. One hand kept hold of hers, the other resting in his lap as he continued.

“Otrok was a pup, when the Ancestors called on him. We used to tease him for it-- the youngest shaman we ever knew.” the Orc let out a jovial huff at the memory. “His mentor and predecessor, Meshi, she’d whack us on the knuckles or zap us with lightning when we did. Defensive of little pup Otrok, that one. She’d tell us that it was nothing we should tease him for. That ‘the Ancestor’s call can come at any time. At any age.’ And we’d, of course, nod along as we took the lecture.”

Gently, he gave Sinafay’s hand a squeeze.

“... I think they call to me, now.”

“Calling -how-?” Sinafay couldn’t help but ask, tilting her head in confusion.

She didn’t understand at all how shamanism worked, had never bothered to look into it. She’d been averse to the very idea of it due to her alternate self being so immersed. Even now, the thought of Grakkar showing interest in it irked her. Leftover jealousy…

At least -she- wasn’t alive anymore.

For now, she pushed those negative feelings back. Even if her mate became interested in that path, she had nothing but support for him. Especially this late in his lifetime, she wanted whatever would be soothing to his soul. On that note, there was a more pressing question.

“What are you supposed to do when they call on you?”

"Answer."

A logical enough answer, predictable as it was. Grakkar nodded slowly, searching Sinafay's face for… anything. A reaction. A showing of how she felt about the revelation. She understood, right?

She somehow managed not to twitch...

"The Ancestors, they… they mean much to my kind. You know this, I know, but…" he sighed, brow furrowing. "It is an honor, but also a responsibility. They call with a purpose, and to ignore them is to dishonor them. Sina… I need to answer. I need to learn how. And for that, I need to seek out a shaman." 

Sinafay frowned heavily, baring her fangs in displeasure as she turned her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. There was no question. She hated the thought, no matter how supportive she was trying to be.

“We fought so hard to finally be together,” she couldn’t help but voice, “After everything that happened a few weeks ago, you cannot be serious about leaving. There must be some other way…”

She took his hand and brought it to her face, pressing her lips to his finger tips.

“How about you ask a shaman to come teach you here. Neelah needs you,” she took a moment to suckle on his index finger a bit more before adding in a sensual tone, “-I- need you.”

Grakkar’s hand moved to cup Sinafay’s face, fingertips idly massaging the back of her head as his thumb brushed along her cheek. He smiled, unable to help but chuckle at his mate’s… forwardness. It was endearing-- and she had a point. They’d worked so hard to be together. Suffered through all manner of pain and anguish. He didn’t want to leave. But he didn’t want to ignore the call, either. He exhaled a sigh.’

“I have to find one, first. One who would travel out here… and wouldn’t get upset at seeing how we live.” he explained, brow furrowing a bit. “That will be a challenge. And either way, I’d still have to leave.”

The Draenei’s frown deepened. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions. Her tail had gone from swaying to twitching, arms crossing over her chest as she worried her bottom lip. She was upset. Angry. Not with her mate, specifically, but at the situation, as a whole. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek deeper into his palm.

She hated this. But she knew better than to try and stop him. Orcs were stubborn creatures.

“Not right away. I need a bit of time, my Love. Time with you, before you go on your journey,” she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him as her eyes fluttered open once more, “And you visit weekly when you -do- go.”

“Hopefully more, if I can manage it.” he replied. “I don’t want to be too far from you and Neelah. Whatever the Ancestors have in store for me… it will include us all. I only need to leave to find out what that is, first.”

He tilted Sinafay’s head up, leveling his gaze with hers. Stern as his expression was, his eyes conveyed a deep affection for his mate, and a genuine concern for her well-being. He’d given this a lot of thought already.

“You and Neelah are everything to me. You know that, right?” he smiled, weakly. “The Ancestors must know it, too. This calling… whatever it is, it’s as much for you and her as it is for me.”

She gave a nod, meeting his gaze now, but couldn’t quite shake her anxiety over the situation. They’d barely begun to recover from Argonas’ attack, and now this… Leaning forward, she gently pressed her crest against his forehead.

“I love you, Grakkar. And I trust you.”

[miernethepersevering]

Zealotry

(( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas​ / @avehi-the-adamant​ following the story ‘Justified’. Tagging @nedemus​ and @sinafay1​ /  @codegemini​ for character mention ))

~*~*~

Argonas’ angered pacing stopped at a nearby fountain. Mierne wasn’t far behind him, having followed him from the cemetery. She made no effort to conceal her presence, though her hoof steps could barely be heard compared to his. Sparks of Light crackle across the Vindicator’s armor as he seethed. She paid them no mind as she moved to his side. There was silence as she pondered what to say. Surely, there were none that felt proper to soothe her friend's anger. Instead, she simply rested a hand on his plated arm.

...Not for long, however. He pulled away immediately with a scowl,

“ I need not your pity, nor your consolation, Mierne." he snapped.

“I offer neither. Merely a listening ear.”

“Hmph! What more is there to say? The Light's justice has failed today!”

“It did not work out the way you wished, but that does not mean it failed.”

“He is letting her GO, Mierne! He is letting Avehi continue defiling the dead, with no consequences!”

She merely shook her head, ever patient, “He is investigating."

"—What more is there to investigate?! She admitted to it!" He was shouting now as more enraged Light crackled off his body. Truly, an intimidating sight.

Though Mierne refused to allow it to affect her so. “If there is really something wrong with the afterlife, would you not want to know? If Sinafay is suffering—“

“—Enough! Sinafay is -not- suffering!

“But what if she -is-, Argonas?!” she persisted, “Would you not want to save her from that fate?!”

The Vindicator shook his head, sweeping his arm in front of him in a large negative gesture, "She died a most noble death! The Light would not allow her to enter into this 'Maw', or whatever! She is one with the Light, now!" he stated, firmly. "Avehi is lying!"

"And if you're wrong?"

"The Light would not fail Sinafay like that. It delivered me from death. It would not see her suffer in the same stroke! You trust Avehi far too much.”

“Perhaps. But you are blinded by your hatred for her. If she is lying, Khanaros will find out, and then your justice can be delivered. You must exercise patience!”

Argonas shook his head, and turned back towards the fountain, "Khanaros... hmph. He has changed.He used to carry such a definitive sense of justice. A decisive and sure demeanor. Seeing him back there, I felt I was watching a completely different person than my old mentor!”

Mierne frowned, "He hasn't changed at all. I have known him since before you were born. Khanaros has always been level headed and just! You say this because he did not make a decision you agreed with! This is a complicated issue and it must be treated as such.”

Argonas 's tail twitched. Her words seemed to strike something in him. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing at the Shaman. "No... instead, he made a decision -you- agree with. You have long been an advocate for Avehi, have you not?”

“Which is why I wasn't the one passing judgment. I was there to see that Avehi was given the proper chance to explain herself. That was my only request to Khanaros.”

“Truly? Is that -all- you were there for? You hold more sway over the High Vindicator than anyone else! Even if you did not ask directly, he knows well how close you and Avehi are. What she -means- to you! You have interfered with proper justice, Mierne! Intentionally or not... the High Vindicator must have been soft on Avehi because of -you-!” He huffed, "It is the only explanation!"

“Don't be ridiculous! Khanaros had no intentions to even speak to Avehi until Nedemus brought up the issue with the afterlife!”

“I know well he played his part in these... manipulations, as well. But this hearing would not have even happened if it were not for you and your relationship with him!”

“If you think that Khanaros put his feelings for me ahead of his duties as High Vindicator,  then you are a fool!”

“Hah! -I- am a fool? I believe if you seriously think Avehi's made-up story about the afterlife being ‘broken’ is true, then it is YOU who are the fool, here!”

“I know Avehi well enough to know that she is -not- a liar. If you had any ounce of sense left in you, you would see that.”

“You knew her in life, perhaps! Undeath changes people! Twists and perverts them into monsters! I have seen it! And now that Avehi has shown herself to be one, your bias towards her clouds your judgment. And the High Vindicator's judgment by virtue of your relationship with him!"

“Certain things have changed, yes. But she is still the Avehi I knew on Draenor. Her drive to do what is right and her honesty have persevered even in death!”

“Bah! Something else entirely drives her, now. She has proven that by raising and defiling so many with her necrotic magics! Her fabricated lies about the afterlife and the Maw are just her way of justifying her abhorrent actions! And they have worked perfectly on you and Khanaros!”

Mierne let out an exasperated sigh, clearly frustrated at the Vindicator’s refusal to listen to reason.

"No... no, this is not justice,” he huffed, “This is not the Light's will! If Khanaros will not see to righteous vindication for Zaalesh and the others... I will."

Mierne stepped forward, immediately grabbing his arm again, "You will leave Avehi be until the High Vindicator finishes his investigation!"

Argonas looked down at the Shaman’s hand, before tugging his arm away once more. He scowled.

"I take no orders from -you-, Mierne! You cannot manipulate me like you do Khanaros! I will be watching Avehi closely. If she sets even half a hoof out of line, defiles any more fallen, or even breathes my wife's name again... I will do what I should have done in Northrend, and end her miserable existence! The High Vindicator has until such time to finish his so-called ‘investigation’. Otherwise, he will not need to!”

Mierne 's tail flickered in clear agitation, "Argonas, this is my final warning. Do -not- allow yourself to be led by your grief and anger."

"What else do I have?!” He snarled, “I have lost -everything- now, Mierne! My wife, my child, and now my mentor! Grief and anger are all I have left!"

“No, it is not! You cannot allow yourself to be lost to this! You are -more- than this!”

He shook his head stubbornly once more, turning from both Mierne and the fountain.

"All I am is an instrument for the Light's justice. And I -will- see justice met! Mark my words, Mierne... Avehi will atone for what she has done."

“What you are doing is -not- justice! It is zealotry!”

“No, it is vindication. And I am a Vindicator.”

As Argonas began to depart in a huff, Mierne took a step forward, but resigned to saying anything more, allowing him to leave. She had no parting words for him, only a frustrated sigh.

~*~*~

[avehi-the-adamant]

Are We Dead Yet? Pt. I - Piercing the Veil

[[ Co-written with @sylaess​ & @kidcatgemini​ ]]

~*~

The summons came for all of them. 

Every single Knight of Acherus could hear that call, knew that call. It wasn’t one you fucked around with. 

They stood in ranks, watching the portal open. Waiting. Somehow, they were going to help. The icy winds atop Icecrown snatched at cloaks and fur-trimmed armor alike. Stole the wispy breath of the living and tossed it to the glacier beyond. A very solemn time.

A very anxious time.

They filed through. Rank by rank.

It took forever, in Sylaess’s humble opinion. All for a bloody portal. To the deadlands. Shadowlands. Syl hated portals. They always fucked her up. She cut a glance to see if she could spot Avehi one more time. Had tried to get into formation with her, but who knew if they were still near each other? There had been so much shuffling about. 

The rank before her moved up. Started popping through, one by one. So the rumors were true, then. Bolvar had had his ass handed to him by Sylvannas. And then she messed everything up. Again. Sylaess was careful to keep herself still, steady, and cool. At least outwardly. It was tiresome. But she did an excellent job of that mask.

Sigh.

Syl stepped forward unthinkingly. Just muscle memory in the line, headed into the portal. The less she thought of the insanity she was about to partake in, the easier it got.

That was a bold-faced lie, but she was grasping every thin thread to keep herself from launching off the side of Icecrown instead of into the afterlife. Both options sucked, to be fair. 

Took a breath, hands on her swords hilts like they were a lifeline. Stepped through the blue-black mass of magic that would lead her to the exact place she’d been avoiding all these damned years. Literally. 

Tried not to scream.

The Maw was unchanged from when Avehi was here last-- but it was still an entirely new experience. Before, merely a fragment of her consciousness could wander freely through the desolate wastes beyond the veil. Now, she was here wholly, fully… with no guarantee of any way out again. Her body never felt more cumbersome, reminiscent of when she was first risen. That bitter, ashen taste. The way the air felt so thin and yet stifling at the same time. The amber skyline was piercing, a burning contrast to the somber grey dust beneath her hooves. Immediately, the wailings of the damned assaulted her ears, in a symphony of suffering. This was no place for a mortal. 

Thankfully, she wasn’t one.

Foolishly, however, she’d brought two along with her. She looked back to her companions; imposters, both adorned in Ebon Blade recruit armor. Argonas’ barely fit over his muscular physique. An oversight on her part-- she should’ve procured a Tauren-sized set for him, just in case. Raetos’, however, fit just fine. Though his brighter skin tone betrayed his Light-suffused body beneath the dark Ebon plating. Both of them would’ve been easy enough to pick out… if anyone were looking hard enough. Too focused on Bolvar, Avehi presumed. She wasn’t sure about the Highlord. Helm or no helm, it was hard for her to reconcile how she felt about the presence that had set up shop in the back of her mind since the fall of Arthas Menethil. Familiarity, yes. But overwhelming distrust trumped it. Like an estranged brother.

She put it from her mind, for now, attention back on Argonas and Raetos. 

“Muster your senses.” she instructed. “We must move-- quickly!”

Argonas did just that; he was much more prepared for the terror this place instilled in the depths of the soul than Raetos was. Having died somewhat recently, he was already accustomed to this place, and the heavy draw that permeated the air. He expected it. Prepared for it. Shrugged it off, and moved to follow Avehi into the wastes. Somewhere here, they’d find Sinafay. And he’d make good on his promise to free her from this terrible place! That alone was all the drive he needed to suffer through.

Raetos wasn’t as fortunate. Despite all the time he’d spent on the Fel-suffused planet of Argus, it did nothing to protect him from the wave of absolute dread and hopelessness that permeated his senses.

“--Light,” he muttered under his breath, kneeling down and throwing his helmet off to bring his hands to his head. 

Thankfully, his Lightforged body offered him some protection. He couldn’t imagine how much more horrible this place would be without it’s soothing properties. It took him a moment, as he waited for his senses to acclimate. When he looked up, Avehi and the others were already far ahead. He removed some of the extra pieces of plate armor Avehi had told him to wear. The atmosphere was already too heavy, and the weight of the gear was unbearable. At this point, it didn’t matter if the Ebon Blade realized they’d brought a mortal through. 

Not like they could force him to go back...

Gritting his teeth, he got back on his hooves and followed after his companions. He was one step closer to finding Fable.

Sylaess’ skin felt prickly. Like someone had chopped the sides of her neck with the blade of their hand and jolted all her nerves at once. A cold sweat made her armor lining cling uncomfortably.

She wanted to vomit.

Two steps onto the other side, and she held it all back. Held her breath, too. Did a half-turn to check for an ambush and--

Came loose from herself. Drifted away from her own body. 

Ah, shit. The thought was haphazard at best. A remote acceptance. The world went away.

Sylaess stiffened up like she’d been struck on the head and went over like an ominous pillar of saronite. No hand came out to break that fall. Crashed to the ground unceremoniously with a dull thud. Absolutely unresponsive for a solid moment, other than a faint tremor in her hands. Unnatural.

“I waited, nonetheless.”

He took another bite, and  chewed that one too for a while. Thoughtfully. The only times Argonas was really so quiet was when he was eating or sleeping. His mouth stopped running long enough for his thoughts to get a turn. Most of his thoughts were on Sylaess, and his gaze followed them. He swallowed.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, motioning roughly over his own face where Sylaess’ exacerbated scarring was. “It looks as if you took a few hits. Did you learn anything of the truths you are seeking?”

She blinked at her hands, considering the question for a hanging moment. “...I don’t know if I feel qualified to name worth about this, but I learned enough that I...” Want to take a scalding damn bath, my friend, badly. “...want to leave. I have enough control, I feel.” No, you don’t.--

The taste of rust and dirt in her mouth. Black, watery rushing in her ears. A flicker of lights. Pushed away from the fragmented memory. Didn’t recognize much of it, anyway. Didn’t make too much sense.

And awake again. 

She gave a hell of a start. Limbs felt loose, uncoordinated. Standing up felt a little clumsy. Shit, how many times was that? Sylaess tensed, willing herself to look like iron again. Hoped beyond whatever frail hope she had that most of her companions looked past that little... episode. Destarion had made sound mention of her new ailment. She had an idea of what happened, but never a full understanding. Her skull felt like it throbbed, and yet was airy all at once. It was incredibly hard to refocus.

The fragment of memory, or fictitious image was fleeing her mind already. Little snippets. Some were true, but she couldn’t tell what was real. It was harrowing to try and winnow it all out.

Truthfully, she felt like her bones were made of windchimes. Hollow.

Avehi eyed the elf, a mixture of worry and annoyance upon her countenance. The poor thing shook and wobbled like a newborn talbuk finding its legs in this treacherous place. The Draenei couldn’t fault her too terribly for it, though-- everything about this place was an affront to the senses. She was, in truth, surprised Argonas seemed to take it in such stride. But then… he’d been here before, rather recently. She examined the trio, and grunted. This was it. This was the team. With no plan to get back out, and no telling what to expect inside… they proceeded.

“Stay close.” came her only instruction; her only warning.

The Vindicators trudged forward, driven by their respective purposes. Avehi had finally made it to the other side, and took strides now in correcting this problem that had haunted her for so long. Argonas’ purpose was far more specific. Yet both moved, in a show of their shared training, keeping a close-yet-loose and wary formation. Hammers drawn and ready for the horrors the Maw would surely throw their way.

Raetos stayed further behind, both to watch their backs, and also to keep an eye on Sylaess. She was the only one in the group he didn’t know at all. She was such a tall and skinny thing, so lanky and sickly looking. And from the looks of it, she’d taken the entrance into the Maw harder than he had. He wondered how long she'd been dead, but then Avehi had made it clear that it wasn’t a question to ask a Death Knight. A sensitive subject. 

Now wasn’t the time to make friends and start conversations anyway. Quite the departure from his regular self. Instead, his golden gaze scanned the rocky cliffs. Oddly enough, it wasn’t too far off from the rocky and desolate landscape that Argus had been… except Fel was replaced by… well… death and mist of some kind. So he had no issues blending and moving quietly about the area. Thankfully so, because the mist made it hard to see at a distance, and there were constant eerie screams in the background that made things difficult for his ears to pick up other sounds --not to mention the sounds of battle! It would make hunting the enemy harder for him. 

He wondered if Avehi knew where she was going. She seemed to anyway… So he followed. For now.

The worst of it faded slowly. Not that the ominous air of the Maw itself was helpful in any sort of recovery. 

To be fair, she’d been here before. A few times. They had to find Sinafay as fast as they could. Every second in this place was a threat to the very fabric of a soul. 

She should not be here. So many should not be here. That would have to be solved later. It was a much grander scale issue.

Sylaess shook her head slightly, chasing off the thoughts before they took hold. Glanced over the rest of the party and resolved to ignore her indiscretion. Such as it would be. A brief flicker of concern for Argonas, but she let it slide. Had to. No room for that here. She wasn’t particularly concerned with Raetos, disguise or no. 

There was a feeling that the Jailer would be able to sense them regardless of any shade or misdirection and that bothered her. Bothered her a lot. She slid a hand into her cloak, a hidden pouch there. Reassurance. The tiny vials were wrapped securely in cloth and leather layers, protecting them from a lot of damage. They seemed intact. “Avehi, do we have a specific direction, or should we try to command a soul to give us an idea?”

Her voice was quiet and gravelly, but clear enough. Such an odd thing to hear out of her own face. She sighed softly through her nose. At least she’d spent the last few weeks with the ritualists in Acherus, learning what she could of the other side of being a death knight. Less battle, more magic fuckery.

"Once we have our bearings, that's a good idea." Avehi replied without breaking stride. "Let's get up this ridge, and see what we can see."

"--Command a soul?" Argonas repeated, clearly uncomfortable with the notion. "Have they not suffered enough without such compulsions?"

"Probably. You can ask your wife the specifics after we compel a wayward soul to lead us to her." came Avehi's curt response.

It silenced Argonas well enough.

“Geez… I mean, it doesn't hurt to ask nicely at first,” Raetos couldn’t help but throw his opinion in, “If they’re being a pain in the ass, then by all means, but Argo’s right. No need to hassle an already suffering spirit if it’s not putting up a fight.”

He held his rifle ready, keeping his senses sharp despite his mouth working. 

“Like… from the looks of things, there are some obviously bad things picking on helpless looking spirits,” he mentioned, taking a peek over the ledge where he spotted the commotion, “We intervene, the nice spirit tells us what they know out of gratitude, and then we can compel the baddies for extra information. Win win. Oooh! Leave that hound-thinger down there alive, though. I want that.”

“Was it worth it?”

The memory echo gave her half a pause, but it slid away like oil on water. She sighed softly, the tightness in her jaw not settling.

Maybe it was the half-echoed whispers from the souls damned to this place. She could hear them. Assumed Avehi could, too. “More than half of these souls are ... remnants. Shattered pieces. The Maw is where they are sent to be slowly obliterated. Now that all souls are sent here, it's ... the worst fate you could wish on anyone. No hope for rebirth here, just swift annihilation if you’re lucky.”  Sylaess said. Gave pause, side-eyeing Raetos. “They’re constructs, but ones that feast on souls. Fine sport, I’m sure.” She had meant to be calming, reassuring even. But her words raked like gravel, gashing out the hideous truth of this place. The end was colored by sarcasm. No mercies indeed. There was regret, but she couldn’t pluck the words from the air. Nor did she feel she could’ve found better to say. The elf tugged her cloak over her shoulder, black hollow eyes scanning the area in a slow sweep. Old habits were never far. At least, she assumed it was a habit.

She eyed the hound. Then it came together. “But we could harness it to travel faster. At least, one of us.”

This place was grating on Avehi’s nerves. The sounds most of all. Words no mortal could hear, but registered as whispers to the Death Knights, one foot in and one foot out of their graves. Half-truths and intrusive thoughts given soundless voices, all speaking directly to her mind.

“You belong here, too.”

“None escape…”

“The Jailer sees all!”

It was distracting. Overwhelming. And Argonas’ and Raetos’ sanctimonious protesting only irked her further.

“Feel free to see how far asking nicely gets you.” Avehi chuffed, growing in irritation. “But if you want your respective loved ones saved from this infamously-inescapable place? Cast aside your Light-bleached sensibilities and be prepared to do whatever it takes. Let the undead handle the undead, if you can’t stomach it.”

The ridge crest overlooked everything… and nothing. There wasn’t much to see of this desolation. A ‘river’ of aetherial miasma cut through the land some distance ahead. And following it to their left revealed ramparts of some manner of fortification. Beyond that, ever-looming in the sky, was an infinitely tall tower. Unsettlingly menacing, it dominated the skyline, casting its shadow over the already dismal landscape. 

“--There.” Argonas spoke up, motioning to the fortifications. “I… I saw Sinafay near there, when I died. I remember the wall.”

“You’re certain?” Avehi asked, turning to him.

He nodded once, eyes affixed to the distant keep. It was recent enough, still fresh in his mind. Avehi grunted, but nodded in response.

“Then we make our way there. Any soul we manage to find on the way, we question.”

She waved her hand dismissively at the construct and his ‘dog’ down below.

“Leave those sentries be, if we can. The creature will serve us no purpose, anyway.” she directed. “Splitting up here is the worst thing we could possibly do.”

And yet, that was exactly what Raetos decided to do. As the others turned away and continued their journey, the Lightforged kept his eye on the hound and its rider. He always worked better alone anyway. And it would be easier to sneak around without the heavy plate wearers. Brows knit into a frown as he looked over to his friends once more, only to see them already a good distance away; pushed forward by Argonas recognizing a rock formation. 

Fable wouldn’t be with Sinafay. It was a gut feeling the Draenei had. Their times of death had happened so far apart and differently. The chances of finding them together in this hell hole was slim to none. His three companions obviously cared more about finding Argonas’ mate than his. Avehi had promised to bring Raetos into the Maw. That done, it was time for him to walk his own path. His partner needed him, and he wasn’t going to waste any time following the wrong trail.

Silently, he stepped away from the group and hid into the cliff. And just like that, he was gone, silently moving down the cliff to stalk the hound and rider, hunting rifle in hand.

“Perdition...” It was more of a mumble to herself, thinking over the location. She frowned, watching Raetos go--but who was she to stop him? If you want to disappear into hell, literally, by yourself, then that’s on you. She honestly wished him well. 

The wash of voices became loud in her ears for a moment. She grit her teeth.

“If we’re headed that way, we should get going. “ A pause, and she stared at Avehi. Tried to gauge how much she knew of this place, gave up. “He’s watching.” Softly. “There’s not much I can do about it.” Stepped up to be vaguely beside the other Knight a moment. “The best thing is that he’s busy with the sudden swarm of Acherians. He can’t focus.”

The Draenei’s tail flickered in irritation, as Sylaess put so well into words what she was feeling. The master of this domain exuded a too-familiar omniscience in this place. The power behind the Helm of Dominion worn by the Lich King could be felt here. Its origins, perhaps? It felt far too similar to be coincidence. 

“There’s nothing any of us can do about it.” she affirmed, bluntly. “May his focus be elsewhere as we get done what we’re here to do. Everyone stay cl--”

She narrowed her eyes in search; the brightest of their group was nowhere to be found! For his otherwise inept and naive countenance, Raetos was particularly adept at forging his own path and vanishing when he felt it was time. His impatience and disobedience would be his doom here, Avehi thought, as she shook her head.

“We need an escape. A rally point. Somewhere to fall back to and regroup as necessary.” she grunted, eyes flickering to Sylaess. “Can you secure one? Argonas and I will go ahead into the keep, and see if we can’t find Sinafay.”

Sylaess nodded. “I’ll hold to one spot as well as I can, but I feel I might need to move. May this be a quick endeavor.” 

(( Mentions: @avehi-the-adamant / @argonas / @raetos / @sylaess / @sinafay1 / @darkestfable ))

[argonas]

Into the Breach - Argonas’ Prelude

Standing tall, Argonas entered the Vault of Lights. This place always filled him with hope, confidence, and reverence. Feeling the Light course through him was always a boon, and few places could he feel that more strongly than here. 

How many years had it been since he saw his honored mentor? Five? Ten? Longer? He saw the alternate Draenor version of him some years back, through the Dark Portal. To see him in action was inspiring as well, especially in his prime! Today, he arrived to meet High Vindicator Khanaros once again, at his urgent behest. The letter was succinct, yet troubling in its context. For what reason would his mentor call him back, after all these years? Clearly he came to learn he had survived Argus… but this didn't seem like a social or celebratory visit request. Argonas could tell something was wrong. Something dire.

He strode through the Vault, intently and with purpose… before an odd sense of dread washed over him. Something clashes with his holy aura, in the worst way. 

Undeath.

Were they here? Had the Forsaken pushed to the Exodar? Was that why the High Vindicator recalled him, to defend the Isles? --No… no, that wasn't it. He breathed a sigh of relief, as he saw the source of that uneasy, nearly-nauseating sensation he felt. Standing in the center of the Vault, sticking out more than a fish on land, was Vindicator Avehi.

He approached her quietly - at least as quietly as a large plated Vindicator could - from behind. She failed to notice him just as well. As he neared, he heard her muttering to herself.

"...May it be so…"

His brow arched. Had he caught her in prayer? In supplication to the Light? He was well pleased! Not many Death Knights he knew retained their faith. The departure into such depravity wasn't easy to endure. It could shake even his own, he imagined. Nonetheless, it was rude to eavesdrop. Especially on another's praying. But seeing as her words were a common closing of such communion, Argonas felt he should announce his arrival.

"May what be so?" He asked, tone cheerfully inquisitive.

The sickening aura intensified in an instant, giving Argonas chills. He took a step back from Avehi, as she turned to eye him. Her lifeless eyes conveyed contempt - irritation, at the very least. Perhaps she was upset he had caught her praying. 

"Vindicator Argonas." She called him by name, tone dripping with what could only be perceived as disgust! "What are you doing here?"

[thefugitivemango]

Heart thingy for Fable and Avehi XD

VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗💗 “I mean... he looks like any and every elf I have seen. I feel I would have trouble picking him out of a line-up of other similar elves, if I’m being honest. Still, elves overall are... aesthetically pleasing in their own way. Mostly.”

FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗 "Eeh... I do not know him very well, frankly. I’ve spoken to him... twice? Three times? Raetos trusts him, so I’ll extend to him the same courtesy. But I would not consider us close, by any definition.”

SEXUAL DESIRE: 💔 “--Sex? With the tiny elf-man? No desire whatsoever. I’d sooner tend to my own needs than seek his companionship, frankly. Fable seems... ill-equipped to satisfy me. Raetos may keep his sheath.”

ROMANTIC INTENT: 💔  “... Again, no desire whatsoever. I barely know him, and would most assuredly not wish to pursue any manner of romance with him.”

[darkestfable]

Safe Haven

Oribos

Raetos groaned as he found his way back to the waking world. He knew he was alive by how much his body ached. His head, most of all, felt like someone was hammering multiple nails in place. Only one luminous eye opened, the other still swollen shut under bandages wrapped around his head. His abdomen was also strapped tightly. He could feel the pressure of the wrappings limiting his movement, as to not aggravate what he assumed was broken ribs. The wound on his arm had been well cleaned and bandaged. Someone had been talking very good care of him.

He smiled, not having to wonder who, feeling the body curled up against his own. Tilting his head down, he caught a glimpse of the top of Fable’s head… there was no mistaking those lovely indigo locks. 

“How long have I been out?” He asked.

For just a moment, Fable grumbled and curled more tightly against Raetos. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. The hellscape that had been The Maw was no longer ringing in his ears, and his lover was by his side again. This had to be a dream. It was never this good.

Or was it?

The blood hunter finally peeled open his eyes, sitting up after a moment to look over the large lightforged next to him. His heart fluttered at the sight of his lover’s smile, and he reached over to lay a gentle hand onto his bandaged chest. This had been no small feat, what Raetos and the others had pulled off.

“Days, love. Take as long as you need, yeah? I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Fable’s expression softened as he curled his fingers against the bandages on Raetos. Yep, still there. Still real.

The Draenei’s smile only grew wider as he reached up with his good hand to cup the side of his lover’s face. Raetos didn’t understand much of anything about death and spirits. But Fable looked well. Looked healthy. Better than he had in the Maw, for certain. 

“Careful what you say, Babe. I might ask to stay here forever,” he said, flashing his signature grin, “...wherever here is.” 

It suddenly dawned on him that they couldn’t be on Azeroth. They still had to find the soul dagger to get Fable his body back… and they obviously weren’t in the Maw anymore. Last thing he remembered was a very pissed off Avehi.

“Uh… where are we?”

“Oribos. Think that’s what they call it, anyway. Kinda a hub for uh...all sorts ‘a people,” Fable glanced at the door, as if the answer would be there. Truthfully, he’d been more worried about Raetos than asking about the name of the establishment.

He leaned over Raetos carefully to kiss him. Tender, sweet, and like he’d been afraid he’d never see him again. Everything had culminated to this point, and truthfully Fable wasn’t sure what he was doing. Getting out of The Maw had been his first task, but the blood hunter wasn’t sure if he could retrieve the dagger by himself. Wasn’t sure he’d want to do it alone. Doubt weighed heavily on him, tied down by the guilt of what he’d done to get here in the first place.

“Hey, love… You got my body, yeah? I’m gonna have somethin’ t’ go back home t’ when this shit is figured out? ‘n th’ animals are taken care of?” his voice was quiet, almost unsure. Fable loved their little life that they’d built, and still worried that he’d ruined it all.

“Mhm,” the Draenei managed a nod, thumb stroking his lover’s cheek, “The tree elf dude you got to take care of the animals while we were away agreed to stay as long as needed. I think we owe him a really REALLY big tip. Obligation and Responsibility really seems to like him, though, so don’t have to worry about them. Did you know he lived in that big ass tree that the Horde burned down? That’s where he got all the scars. Poor guy… Anyway, I was able to find your body at the dig site after going through your maps and stuff. Brought it to the healer chick that was deployed to Darkshire with me. You’re in a coma-like state back on Azeroth, and she’s keeping you nourished and stable until we manage to destroy that dagger.”

He paused in his rambling for a moment, knowing the next part was a bit touchy.

“Hey… uh… on that subject. Bad memories, I know. But like… anything you can tell me about the lady that stabbed you… physical description or name… if she gave you one…”

Another pause before adding.

“Was she hot? She must be hot.”

“Well, yeah… I mean it ain’t like I got bad taste,” Fable smirked, then paused a moment. “Wait, tree… They’re called Kal’dorei.”

The news of his body being taken care of was something of a relief, though the blood hunter still didn’t like the situation at all. Cebina had royally screwed him, and now he had to go find that dagger too? This was just getting more and more complicated…

“She uh… I’d know her if I saw her, yeah? While you were restin’ tho, I asked ‘round ‘bout the dagger ‘n souls ‘n shit ‘n this creepy lookin’ dude called a Venthyr told me ‘bout this place called Revandreth. Said a lady was there ‘n might have a dagger kinda like it?” Fable scratched at his chin in thought.

“Sounds like our next destination,” Raetos nodded, a cheerful smile on his face, “I know it’s not the best of situations, but we get to explore this whole new place together, and I’m sure we can get supplies so that you can map it all out.”

Obviously it would have been much more ideal to have Fable whole for the adventure, but there was no harm in seeing the bright side of the situation.

“Soon as moving doesn’t hurt anymore…” he winced as he shifted, “So... what’s a Venty. Not another type of elf, is it?—Not that there’s anything wrong with elves! There’s just so many different kinds and I can barely keep up with the ones I know.”

“Venthyr, luv. They’re like uh...anima vampires? Ain’t too clear on ‘em yet but I was watchin’ ‘em wander through Oribos while you were restin’,” Fable pulled out a notebook he’d obviously obtained here in the Shadowlands. A keen eye would notice that its leather bindings were a bit unlike any leather on Azeroth.

The first few pages were sloppy, slightly disproportionate sketches of the various different types of people he’d seen wandering through, along with notes of things he’d either overheard or asked them flat out. The page with the Venthyr man had no notes, however. Clearly, the hunter hadn’t approached him.

“They got fangs ‘n glowin’ eyes kinda, most of ‘em are real skinny. Nice clothes though, ‘n some of ‘em wear thigh high boots. Thinkin’ maybe I should get a pair?” the elf chuckled, leaning to stretch his leg out as far as he could, toes pointed.

“Babe, you would look hella amazing in those boots,” the Lightforged agreed, “Are there any with heels? If so, you should avoid them, because then, your already sexy ass will just look too good for me to resist. Afraid you won’t get anything done in that case.”

 His hand slipped down to give his partner’s behind a little squeeze, before he attempted to sit up. It was a more daunting task than anticipated with his injuries, but he managed. 

“Fashion sense aside, are these Venthyr people safe? The one you drew has like… an evil look to him. Or are they all that withered looking and ugly? Also, what’s anima? And what are the lampshades with legs that you drew in there?”

A smirk spread on his lips at the squeeze, but his attentions to the affections were pulled away when Raetos was trying to sit up. Fable assisted, but his brow furrowed in worry. Had his lover been hurt worse than initially thought? Damn it all, now he was fretting like a mother hen. The lampshades comment pulled the hunter out of his head though, and he just blinked for a moment before tilting the book towards him.

“The lampshades with legs? Oh, those?” Fable pointed at one of the doodles of a Broker. “They call themselves Brokers. They help facilitate trade of goods and services. Information too, ‘m sure. Ain’t got a chance to really chat jus’ yet.”

The concern crept up onto the elf’s face again, and he leaned over to kiss Raetos’ cheek.

“You doin’ okay? If you gotta rest…”

Raetos shook his head.

“Nah, just sore is all. The headache is the worst part, probably. Dude, Avehi hits -hard-! Did you see how pissed she was? Ha! Good times!” 

He smiled brightly to his lover, bringing his hand up to cup the side of his face again.

“Honestly, I’ve rested plenty. I just want to look at you,” he admitted, “I missed you so much, Bae… so don’t mind if all I want to do is cuddle and make out for a while.”

He paused, before adding with a wink.

“Wouldn’t hate a blow job either.”

The elf just smiled. That sappy, sweet, completely enraptured smile as he nuzzled into Raetos’ hand. It had felt like an eternity, fighting for his life. Being reunited had been on his mind the whole time, but even now Fable’s heart ached for the life they’d had before. Though, in the middle of his thoughts, a smirk broke through. That was the Raetos he knew.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t…” Fable turned his head to place a kiss in the palm of Raetos’ hand. “If it won’t hurt you, I’m gonna swallow you whole…”

“I mean… not like I can move much in these bandages,” he grinned, running his thumb along Fable’s bottom lip, “Doubt I’d be able to find a way to hurt myself.”

He paused as he  thought about that a moment.

“—Okay, so I would -probably-  find a way to hurt myself. But it would be hella worth it, though.”

Fable caught Raetos’ thumb between his lips, cerulean eyes closing as he pressed the barbell through his tongue against the calloused pad. A promise. As his lover spoke, the elf savored the taste of his flesh, finally opening his eyes to look up at him with a smirk. He released the thumb after a moment only to place a kiss into Raetos’ palm.

“Jus’ sit back ‘n enjoy then. You deserve t’ be worshipped,” he mumbled against the blue skin, continuing to kiss down from his hand to his wrist. Of course, he’d wait for permission.

It felt like lifetimes since he’d been away from Raetos, and only minutes that they’d been back together again. Fable felt that familiar skin hunger, but it had only gotten stronger after they were in safety, and he could touch and smell his lover again. The blood hunter had to remember to pace himself; Raetos was still recovering, and they were still in a strange place. But tomorrow could wait. Tonight belonged to them.

(Raetos is @raetos / @kidcatgemini )

[kidcatgeminiart]

Chibi Icon- Avehi the Adamant

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