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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?”
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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.
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"People who are okay don’t act like this." to Argo.
Argonas was silent a moment - a brief moment, anyway, before he let out a laugh. A boisterous laugh! He shook his head, clearly overcompensating for the pain such a realization brought with it.
“That... that is ridiculous, Sylaess!” he shook his head, laughter turning to a series of exaggerated scoffs. “Behold, now; I am okay, yes? And I am acting in this manner. Therefore, er... therefore you are mistaken! This is a perfectly acceptable manner in which ‘okay’ people may act.”
He chuckled a moment longer, as if in disbelief Sylaess would consider such a thing!
“--I am quite well, I would have you know.” he lied. “The, er... the Light has returned to me, yes? And... and... I am soon to be a father. That is joyous, indeed! Not, ah... not scary at all! Yes... yes. All is well, indeed.”
Who was he trying to convince?
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💫 What’s their favorite expletive? (For any. Dealer's choice!)
i think the only one who really uses any kind of expletives would be kasmia, and she has a preference for “fuck” (whatever its draenic equivalent is)
freiha throws around some “damn it”s sometimes though too
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✿ Send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile! ✿
@sylaess You guys are too kind for these. Really.
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Tower Ascendance - Final
((Co-written with @argonas / @grakkar-gorefang / @thefugitivemango . @sylaess / @sylaesschasewind , and @sinafay-the-defiant and @avehi-the-adamant for character mention.))
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV |
~*~*~
“Put me down!!!”
Sinafay kicked and struggled against the crafty bonds Argonas had created, but to no avail. Her tail swings and kicks moved right through him, not hindering him in the slightest as he carried her far away from the tower. She grit her teeth, frustrated and angry.
“Ugh! How could you leave her there?! Why not grab HER and go?! I would have followed!”
Argonas marched on in silence, despite Sinafay’s protests. His countenance stone; a permanently etched frown. Inside, each of her words cut deeper and deeper. He didn’t want to leave Sylaess behind. But rarely did he ever get everything he wanted. He wouldn’t have had to fish his wife’s soul out of this terrible place if that were the case!
They egressed the tower safely enough, once Corrus had been defeated. A translocator ejected Argonas and his wife’s soul in a small alcove. An open-air cavern, really, hidden from sight of the various Mawsworn forces that flew about overhead. Finally… they were safe.
Relatively.
“Enough!” he grunted, curtly. “You know as well as I do that she would resist me! I… I made a choice!”
He set Sinafay down, before prying the spear from around her spectral form. He knew she was angry. Emotions ran high for both of them. And that was dangerous, in a place like this.
She clenched her fists at her side, baring her fangs in defiance. She opened her mouth to argue…
“I could not lose you again,” he added, with a huff, “Not in that place. Not ever again!”
“...”
Her rage subsided some, allowing reason to break through. She’d suppressed her emotions for so long, it became hard to control when they did emerge. And how could they not, given what they’d all just gone through? But deep down, she knew Argonas was right. Sylaess was every bit as stubborn as she was. It would have been a fight. He had to make a call.
“I…” she sighed, eyes lowering sheepishly, “Apologies.” She was silent for a moment, regaining her composure, “It is my fault we ended up in Torghast. She is… much more unstable than I remember. I found out she had no memory of me and… I assumed she was an agent of the Maw, playing mind games. I ran away from her and got caught. She followed me in. Refused to leave me...”
Argonas nodded. He understood. It wasn’t ideal, leaving Sylaess behind, but he knew she was strong… in her own way. She’d make it out of there on her own terms, after she accomplished whatever goal she had in mind. He didn’t want to think too much about that, though. Instead, he reached for Sinafay. He knew he couldn’t touch her, but… feeling close to her transcended the barrier of mortality between them.She moved in closer in response. Oh, how she craved his touch… She closed her eyes, attempting to remember what it felt like.
“She will endure. She always does, somehow.” he offered, in an attempt to comfort her, “But we need to leave this place. Avehi and my Soulbind should be just over this ledge. From there… we will finally get you out of the Maw!”
Again, he had the right of it. She sighed, and nodded her head before following “And not a moment too soon. I am eager to be held by you once more, my love.” She smiled tenderly up at him, “And to hear of your adventures! You seem to have been through much in the centuries I have been captive here…”
‘Centuries,’ Argonas thought to himself. ‘It certainly feels like that is how long it has been…’
“What is a Soulbind?”
“--Aah, a Soulbind is something the Kyrians-- denizens of one of the many afterlife realms-- perform on souls. They pair them up, and bind them in a symbiotic partnership.” he explained as best he could. “It is not unlike the sort of partnering up we Vindicators did on Draenor, during training. Working together towards a common goal. Though here in the Shadowlands, like most things, there is a much more spiritual element to it.”
He shrugged his shoulders, as he led her over the ridge-- watchful as they made their way further and further from the tower. Thankfully, their presence went largely unnoticed.
“The Kyrians provided me with the Soulkeeper we will utilize to convey your soul out of this place.” he elaborated as they walked. “They are honorable people-- except for the traitorous Forsworn. That last entity we fought in the Tower was one of their fallen. Rest assured, the pure Kyrians are not so malevolent.”
“It is surprising to hear that the Mawsworn come from such a benevolent place. I wonder what could have corrupted them so…”
She walked along at Argonas side, her own guard up as they traveled. She learned long ago to never feel safe in the Maw. Even now, leaving Torghast with Argonas felt too good to be true. Part of her feared it was a trick, but she dared to hope.
“Who ended up being your Soulbind?” She asked, “Anyone I know?”
Argonas’ hesitance was… noteworthy. He stalled, looking around searchingly as he evaded the question. Somehow, he knew Sinafay would react poorly to the answer.
“... No. No one you know.” he finally responded. “Just another, seeking to save lost souls here in the Maw.”
As if on queue, a figure emerged from around a bend in the path before the two Draenei. Brown skin, grey hair, tusks protruding from his lower jaw. An Orc! Axe drawn, it rushed for Argonas and Sinafay. Though… not exactly in a hostile manner.
Sinafay’s entire demeanor changed the instant the Orc came into view. She immediately bristled, baring her fangs and taking on a defensive position. Her fists clenched and tail swaying aggressively. Pointless, given that she had no way of engaging the Orc. She’d dropped the axe in the tower when Argonas had dragged her out. Still, the reaction was automatic.
“Argonas!” Grakkar called out! “You made it out!”
A mix of relief and irritation washed over Argonas as Grakkar approached. On one hand, he had stayed with Avehi-- their way out. She must’ve been close by. Additionally, he had the Soulkeeper that would enable him to get Sinafay’s soul out of the Maw once and for all! But on the other hand… he wasn’t ready to explain their unique relationship to his beloved mate. And based on her reaction, she wasn’t ready to hear it either.
“Grakkar! Where is Avehi?”
“Not far. There’s little time, though-- whatever you did in there upset a whole lot of Mawsworn! They’re coming from the Tower in droves!” Grakkar replied. “We gotta get out of here now!”
“Right. Quickly, the Soulkeeper!” Argonas ordered, extending his hand out.
Grakkar nodded, pulling a large crystal from his pack. He extended it out for Argonas to take, before finally looking at the soul that accompanied him.
It was… jarring. Extremely jarring! She looked just like his Sinafay! The same horns, the same hair, the same expression-- though, this soul was clearly angry. He knew they were technically the same person, but still! It stunned Grakkar for a moment, as he stared at her.
Sinafay looked from Grakkar to Argonas and back. Under what absurd circumstances was he forced to work with an Orc, of all creatures?! Their conversation wasn’t hostile at all, strangely enough. There was so much for her to catch up on!
Something that would have to wait until later, it seemed, as Grakkar handed the Soulkeeper to Argonas. Sinafay relaxed, though her tail still twitched in irritation at his presence.
And then it hit her.
“THAT is your Soulbind?!” She couldn’t help but shout.
“Keep it down!” Argonas huffed-- news that Mawsworn were descending onto this position put the Vindicator on edge! “Yes, Grakkar is my Soulbind. We came here seeking the same thing!”
“Pleased to, uh… meet you, Sina.” Grakkar added, waving awkwardly.
A nasty glare appeared to be the only response she would give.
“Enough, there is no time!” Argonas interjected! “Grakkar, clear the path between us and Avehi! I will get Sinafay into the Soulkeeper and follow you out of here!”
Grakkar grunted, but nodded in affirmation. He glanced once more at Sinafay, still shaken from seeing her in this place! In this state! He could feel part of the pain was exacerbated by his link with Argonas. The pain of the loss. The despair that followed. And the resolution in bringing her back, no matter the cost. In an instant, he felt as if he’d gone through the process of losing his Sinafay all at once! It set him aback, stunned. Raw.
“--Now, Grakkar!”
“--Hrm! Dabu!” he quickly snapped out of it, before turning and running back the way he came.
Argonas shook his head, before turning fully to Sinafay-- Soulkeeper in hand.
She just stood there, staring at him with her hands on her hips, brow raised and awaiting an explanation.
“I am… certain you have many more questions. And I promise, my love, I will tell you everything. But not here, not yet! Get into the Soulkeeper, and let us get you out of here! After that, we will have plenty of time to catch up!”
And as much as she wanted to press the issue, the sounds of battle nearby compounded Argonas’ words. They were out of time! And she had no intention of missing her chance at leaving the Maw. At least being in the crystal meant she didn’t have to spend time in the presence of an Orc...
Her features softened. She nodded.
“I will see you again soon, yes?”
A final smile to her husband before concentrating on the Soulkeeper. Her hand reached out and touched it. Instantly, her form dissipated into a ball of blue light. It swirled in front of Argonas for a moment, before finally entering the crystal.
The Vindicator held it aloft, inspecting it. It felt no different physically, but he could sense Sinafay’s soul had taken refuge inside it. There was an aura about it. A warmth he’d only felt in her presence.
He smiled.
But not for long-- Grakkar shouted, beckoning him out from the porous cliffs towards their escape route! He reacted quickly, securing the Soulkeeper and rejoining Grakkar and Avehi. There wasn’t much fighting, instead the trio fled the onslaught of Mawsworn, back to the safety of Oribos.
It was done! Sinafay’s soul was finally freed from the Maw!
~*~*~
#{Warcraft Verse} → “Either it brings tears to their eyes”#{Argonas} → “Only a few find the way”#{Sylaess} → “You’re thinking about something and it makes you forget to talk”#{Story Logs} → “The pleasance of our fairytale”
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What Ethereal Vibe Do You Give Off?
Results for Safrona: Shapeshifter
You adapt to situations and people rather quickly, and you pull it off so effortlessly, how sexy of you. Still a little closed off, much to your many admirers' dismay. You could probably carry around a tiny blade strapped to your thigh and nobody would question it. In fact I think the drooling and gawking might increase by 30% at least.
Tagged By: @kich-rp - thank you so much!
Tagging many below the line, but if this little quiz tickles your fancy please feel welcome to it.
You can take the test here
Tagging: @nixyandrith @thefirstperished @calaglin-iarian @longveil @nocturne-dreamer @renardsnoir @aldoreth @hazriels @kat-hawke @nixalegos @auraine-zara @asharinhun @theblackmourninquire @straightouttatheashes @theconstructsworld @talthorn-sylvoran @konietzko-lumenstone @belillinafireseeker @turning-through-the-never @kharris @jackarychaoti @liukka @helryder666 @tanblackfire @ranekvilmas @gloamingdawn @sylaess @saidelia-draconis @mremaknu @othiriel-corvire and anyone else who might like to do this!
#Quizzes and Things#For Safrona#Shapeshifter is very on point...too on point xD#I am amused by the idea that this is somehow sexy though#Very interesting little test
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Are We Dead Yet? - Part IV: Rescuers Down Under
(( Co-written with @darkestfable . @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant / @thefugitivemango , @codegemini , @sylaess for chatacter mention))
~*~*~
Landing in The Maw was more of a bang than a whimper. Fable’s soul had been torn apart between worlds, searing pain and deafening screams pulling him apart until he hit soil with an unceremonious thud. The blood hunter’s body should have been broken from the impact, but as the dust settled around him Fable realized that he was...alive? No, not alive, but not resting.
His ears rang, his head was foggy. As if every system was restarting from the ground up. The high pitched ring was subsiding, being replaced with the growls of distant thunder. The sound rumbled deep in his body before it faded away. Ash blew around his body from the constant wind, a dull roar that he could now make out between the bellows of unseen storms. A louder noise reached Fable’s senses now, and at first he thought that it must be higher winds. They wailed and moaned, echoing with metallic screams before fading. It wasn’t until the hunter opened his eyes and sat up that he realized what the sound actually was.
Souls were crying out, their wordless pleas echoing across a landscape that was far from barren. The sound was horrendous, heart wrenching. In the distance, Fable could make out what he assumed was a river with at least one bridge that crossed over. It would be a rough trek, but the jagged stone that shot up from the ground all over the landscape would make for ample cover.
Dirt crunched and plumed out from each step, a dim sound in comparison to the constant suffering all around him. The closer Fable got to the bridge, the more clearly he could see that it wasn’t a river of water at all. The mist did little to hide the floating shapes that flowed downstream, and now their screams were even louder.
They were anguished souls, cursed to the river by whatever had upset the balance.
“Fuck…” Fable muttered, pressing his back against a large, sharp stone. He couldn’t do this alone.
~*~*~
Raetos wasn’t certain how long it had been since he’d separated from Avehi and the rest of the group. He felt guilty for sneaking off after she’d helped smuggle him into the Maw, but in his growing frustration, he’d been worried any words shared would have left them parting on angry terms. Avehi was determined to help Argonas and Sylaess find Sinafay, pushing Fable’s rescue as a secondary goal. Raetos couldn’t have that. He knew Sinafay and Fable wouldn’t be in the same place, and waiting around to rescue his lover was absolutely unacceptable. Especially now that he witnessed the Maw and it’s horrors for himself.
Finding Fable had initially seemed like an impossible trek, given the Draenei had no idea where to start looking. The moment he’d spotted the shade hounds, however, he knew what to do. He watched them with their rider, hunting down wayward spirits. He wasn’t certain if they could track specific spirits, but it was his best shot. With all the commotion caused by the Ebon Blade, Raetos found himself able to move about easily enough.
That is, until the distance between them became too great. Sneaking around was nearly impossible now. Despite his best efforts to remain unseen, the denizens seemed to detect him the moment he’d step into their vicinity. He already held a number of bruises and minor cuts from a few encounters. As it was, he couldn’t go much further alone.
He perched on top of a stone cliff, preparing to jump down onto the hound’s back. A leap of faith… that is, until a dark, winged form swooped in and grabbed him by the throat. It flew upwards, lifting him up into the air with a surprising amount of strength. The Lightforged reacted quickly. He didn’t have time to get carried off to who knows where. One hand gripped the dark angel’s wrist while the other came up to shoot a beam of Light energy into its eyes. The figure screeched as it was blinded, giving Raetos the opportunity to grab his sword and stab it into the creature’s wing. He gasped as he was released and plummeted down. Light! He hadn’t thought that part through!
Again, he lost his breath, this time, from the impact of hitting the ground, feeling ribs, and even his crest, crack on impact. Blue blood oozed out from the wound, and also on various scrapes across his face and body from the landing.
He hissed, gritting his teeth as he forced himself up. To say he was in a lot of pain was an understatement, but adrenaline still courses through him, giving him the push he needed. A good thing, too! His hand had barely taken hold of the hilt of his sword before he heard a howl and looked up ahead of where he lay. The shade hound and rider he’d been stalking were now charging straight at him.
~*~*~
In his slow advancement around the inhospitable land, Fable had heard hounds howling in the distance. It hadn’t been until he looked down on them from a cliff that he’d seen one of the shade hounds chasing what looked like a member of the Ebon Blade, but...glowing? There wasn’t enough time to process whatever it was, but Fable decided to act anyway. He still remembered how to fist fight.
With the rider hanging back a bit to let the hound bite their quarry, Fable made his way around behind them as silent as he could. He’d be dead(again) if a weapon was swung his way, but it could be worse, right? The blood hunter waited quietly until the rider raised his weapon to take aim, and waited until his attention was occupied.
Fable lept on the hunter’s back and wrapped one arm around the man’s neck, the other at the top of his head. A quick twist should do it, and it would show him just how human or undead these soldiers of the Jailer were. The creature clad in armor simply crumpled from the surprise attack, and the elf went down with him, landing on top of the heap. The metal bit into his skin, but his attention snapped to the Ebon Blade soldier and the hound.
It wasn’t long before some of the Ebon soldier’s more particular traits gave off his identity. Raetos had shed the heavier plate armor, but still wore the dark colors and tabard of the Ebon Blade. Even so, with the gold plated tail and hooves, long blonde hair and signature sword, marked him otherwise.
Unfortunately for the Lightforged, he’d barely had time to get up and run before the hound was on him, pinning him down and snapping its jaws down around his forearm.
“Hey hey! Don’t be rude!” He growled.
But as suddenly as the hound was on him, it froze. Thankfully for Raetos, killing the hunter, severed the connection to the hound. Raetos blinked, confused as he was released and the creature backed off and just… stood there.
“Uuuh, good boy?”
He winced as he got up, hand clutching his side as he looked over towards the hunter’s body. He gasped, eyes wide as he just stared at Fable for a moment.
“Hey… no fair,” he grinned wide, though his eyes watered as a flood of emotions overtook him, “-I’m- supposed to be the heroic figure here.”
Realization flooded Fable at once, and he felt his own eyes well up with relief. The hunter was sure he was imagining the gold, and he’d seen Ebon Blade members with blonde hair. But not that shade of blue. Not accented by gold and glowing with the Light. His breath hitched when he saw that grin. It was like falling for the man all over again.
“You are, love. You are,” his voice shook as he stepped over the crumpled hunter, closing the distance between him and Raetos with a swift stride.
He could tell that his lover was bleeding, hurt. For the moment, it didn’t matter. Fable reached his arms up around Raetos’ neck and pulled him down for a desperate kiss. Guilt chewed at the back of his mind, and just the memory of where he was stabbed was enough to make the mark feel like it was on fire. But none of that mattered right now, he had his lover back!
“Sorry I died, love. It uh...wasn’t supposed t’ happen that way. I jus’... You kept your promise, ‘n I fucked up.”
Raetos choked out a sob as he wrapped his arms around Fable. Physically, it hurt like hell due to his injuries, but the relief of having his mate back in his arms pushed it all into the back of his mind.
“Shhh,” he managed, burying his face into his lover’s hair, “It’s okay… it’s okay. I’m here… and I’m not leaving without you.”
For a moment he just lingered in the embrace; in that sweet moment of reunion, before he released his grip slightly, happy tears rolled down his cheeks as he cupped Fable’s face in his hands to just stare at it. He’d missed those blue eyes, that nose, his lips. Lips he couldn’t help but claim again with his own.
His words were swallowed up in the kiss, and for a moment their reunion was the only real thing in the world. Fable carefully pressed against Raetos as he kissed him, hands gripping at the poorly fitted armor. The blue blood from his lover's wounds wet his hands, and that was what brought him back to reality.
"I wanna keep kissin' you, but we gotta get outta here. I uh...ain't got a clue what's what. Please say you got a plan," Fable looked around, expecting another hunter.
Raetos couldn’t help but give a bit of a pout as the kiss was broken. It seemed he had completely forgotten where they were for a moment. Fable’s words were enough to snap him out of his trance.
“—Oh! Uh… yeah! Totally,” he nodded, “I mean… sort of?”
He hadn’t exactly planned further than getting into the Maw and finding his mate. Now that he’d achieved that, he had to play it by ear. He sheepishly brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck.
“We weren’t too sure what to expect. Came down here with Avehi, Argonas and another one of those deader knights. Syl… something… Anyway, they were— Ow…”
He winced as he leaned over to take his sword. With the moment of euphoria passed, the pain from his wounds became more and more evident. They had to get back to the others soon, so that he could treat them.
With Fable’s hand in his, and his sword in the other at the ready, he led them up a steep slope, towards higher ground.
“Anyway… they were going to find Argo’s wife, Sinafay. She’s been here a long time, I guess, so they needed to get to her fast. I split off to come find you,” he glanced over his shoulder, offering Fable a smile, before moving on to a more dreaded yet important subject, “Hey so… what happened? Any idea who did this to you? Gotta hunt them down and destroy that dagger they used on you. Some cult ritual artifact bullshit, I guess. Only way to get you back to your body on Azeroth is to destroy the weapon that killed you.”
Adrenaline was fading, and Fable could feel his own body aching in kind. So much travelling and skulking about had left his thighs exhausted. He paused at the top of the slope when Raetos started talking, and the hunter’s ears pinned back at the question. It wasn’t a look his lover had ever seen on his face, because it wasn’t one he wore often.
Shame.
The elf cleared his throat, trying to choose his words. Were it anyone else, Fable would simply try to deflect and turn the conversation on whoever these Argo and Sinafay people were. And Syl. All names he wasn’t familiar with, not really. No faces to put to them. His cheeks burned under the dark skin. Raetos could feel the tension in Fable’s hand as it rested in the larger man’s grip.
“I was doin’ a dig t’ kill time ‘n this lady showed up. She uh… I dunno what happened but she jus’ got into my head ‘n I couldn’t stop. Raetos I… I was gonna do it. Her. If she didn’t stab me…” his gaze was on the ground. Fable wouldn’t meet his lover’s gaze.
Raetos’ brow knit into a frown, at first, in confusion. His head tilted slightly to the side, as it often did whenever he was trying to figure something out. It felt like his head was in a fog. He had to replay those words in his head a few times. Then he thought maybe they didn’t mean what he thought it did. Or maybe the wailing wind distorted the words? No. Fable’s expression confirmed it well enough.
“...Oh…”
It was all he could think of as a reply. For once, he wasn’t quite certain what to say. He wasn’t angry… that much he knew. He and Fable hadn’t exactly determined boundaries, even after Raetos himself had almost done the same thing with Avehi. He felt hurt, to be certain, like a sharp pain in his chest, but his lover looked guilty enough, he didn’t want to express it and make him feel worse.
“Hey,” his hand squeezed the Blood Hunter’s, “We’ll get through it, okay? Together.”
He offered a smile, showing he meant the words he’d spoken. Fable obviously regretted what he’d done, and not only because it ended up getting him killed. Raetos wasn’t the particularly jealous type, but he couldn’t pretend the thought of his mate lying with another person on his own didn’t bother him.
“If you think this makes me love you any less, you can kick that thought from your head. I’m not going anywhere… Afraid you’re stuck with me, Love. You know… as long as you’ll have me.”
Fable felt tears well up again, his voice catching in his throat as he reached up to wipe at his eyes. It left streaks of dirt on his face, and didn’t hide the emotions that had bubbled over. All the hunter could do was sniffle and squeeze Raetos’ hand.
“I don’t deserve you,” he managed to say, wiping at the tears.
“Don’t say that,” The Draenei’s voice shook as he pulled his mate in for another tight hug. He was feeling rather light headed, and his legs felt weak, so he kneeled down, making it easier to hold the elf close. A hand came up to brush through Fable’s hair as he buried his face in his lover’s neck.
He was well aware that they had to keep moving. The trail of blue blood would be picked up sooner rather than later. But he was so tired…
~*~*~
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The Horrific Vision of Silvermoon
[Syrielle]: "So, what's our plan?"
[Luminash]: "Good. I prefer the subject of such dangerous research to be in the field. Far from where it could harm our people, naturally. And yet, here it is. Any ideas yet on why it is here from the other magisters?"
[Beyron]: "From everything I've been told... it's an anchor. A root, from the Old Gods' twisted vision of our world to the real world around us. It's one of many needed to fully merge the two - which is... obviously... less than ideal."
[Beyron]: "To get rid of it... we need to enter into the other side, and berid of the anchoring obelisks within. Only then will this... thing... dissolve from our fair kingdom."
[Beyron]: Bey'ron motions to Luminash. "With the vital assistance of Old God scholars, like yourself, the Magistry has identified three such anchors within. All we must do is venture through, and destroy them."
[Syrielle]: "Do... we know what's on the other side? And once we're in, how do we get out?
[Luminash]: "Then we have our work cut out for us. It's no easy task to destroy an anchor, but with three such skilled arcanists? That does tip the scales slightly."
[Beyron]: Bey'ron's ears flicker some. "If our theories are correct... we'll be ejected back to this side of it once the anchors are destroyed. As for what lies within... we'll find that out shortly."
[Luminash]: "Having seen what the Old God's visions have entailed in Uldum and Pandaria, I will admit, I am...curious as to what it plans for us in its future."
[Beyron]: "If we do what we must... it won't matter what that fiend has planned." Bey'ron scoffs. "In any case, steel yourselves. We're on borrowed time as it is." he nods once, before stepping up the stairs - Kreezun padding along beside him.
[Syrielle]: Syrielle's ears flicker nervously, but she steels herself and follows behind Bey'ron.
[Syrielle]: "So... how do we get in?"
[[ Luminash, Syrielle, and Bey’ron preparing to venture into the Void Obelisk and destroy it from the inside! The plan isn’t perfect, and it’s most certainly dangerous. Dangers unlike anything the trio ever thought they’d face in the twisted reflection of their beloved home... Find out what happens in the Horrific Vision of Silvermoon right here!
Special guest @sylaess joined in on her blunt-yet-aloof paladin, Alessea! Thanks for coming out! ]]
#The Sun Council#RP Logs#Guild Event#Blood Elves#Ny'alotha#N'Zoth#Old Gods#Silvermoon#Now Recruiting!
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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 ))
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Argo x Syl 🍻: “ If anything, what makes you hate a person ?”
Argonas looks to Sylaess, thoughtfully. His brow furrows, fingers tensing around his mug of ale. He grunts!
“Hmph! Cowardice!” he answers. “And selfishness! Those who seek to harm others to benefit themselves! Those who abuse power, or force others into compromising situations. Those who know something to be wrong… but do it anyway! Those are the sorts of people who earn my ire!”
He takes another drink, before grunting once more.
“Strength is to protect people. Power is not to be abused, but respected!” he begins lecturing. “Those who neglect to protect, or respect… they deserve to have their power stripped away. And if need be… their lives.”
He nods firmly, succinctly, before taking another drink. He looks at Sylaess, and shrugs.
“–Oh, and if they are an Orc.”
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Heartbreak/Headache
The firelight glinted wetly off the edge of her saber.
Her eyes darted up the length of it, back up at Mattanis. The prick. She couldn’t swallow. Her chest was heaving, but nothing came of it but sharp bursts of pain. He’d missed her spine but got her right beneath the jaw. Blood drooled down her chest.
It wasn’t something she’d walk away from. The knowledge was firm and clear.
“I give you to him. A worthy sacrifice. May he see your treachery!”
His voice bawled in perfectly clear common.
A very large part of her wanted to spout something witty and cutting off, but again. That damn blade rendered that idea null.
She was dying.
The hot wetness sludged its way down her neck. Now why did you turn your back on him? You knew. This wasn’t a surprise. Do you want to die? A taste of rest...?
He chanted on, trying to invoke the master. Something she’d learned. You didn’t just invoke him; he knew what was going on and deigned to visit as he wished. Chanting became incoherent. It was hazy at best. Hard to focus her eyes, let alone unravel the blurry words of fervor falling over her. Sight faded to shadows. Shadows to shapes, shapes faded to...
Shit, this was really happening. A cold sweat clutched her.
---
She rolled over and--thump--vomited heavily. There wasn’t anything to bring up but acrid bile. A hand on her shoulder. A bin shoved roughly into her hands.
It took her a good while to recover enough to blink back tears from her stinging eyes.
Confusion made her head swim.
Destarion gave her a thin smile, settling above her on the bed. She was on the floor.
“So, you died.”
“Is this real?” Her voice was hoarse. Like she’d been screaming for hours. Gravel sounded better. And boy, it hurt. Everything lit up at once.
“Unfortunately for you, I think.”
Sylaess let her head back down to the floorboards. It cost too much to look around, so she screwed her eyes shut. She smelled blood. Gore. Sea water.
“You were brought back by an Anchorite, no less. Fascinating.” The insulting drawl. Soft over hard, ignorant tone. Not intentionally mean, just bored. Like this had happened several times. His deep purple skin was coarse and scaled, those fel-flame eyes burning behind the simple linen wrap he used. Dark violet-black hair rested atop his head in a messy bun framed by those long demonic horns. Destarion was no picture of comfort, surely, but he was better than anything she’d seen in... how long had it been? It didn’t matter, really.
Her stomach churned again, and she heaved weakly into the bucket he’d thrust into her hands. Let her forehead rest on the edge of it. Every single nerve was misfiring it seemed. It felt like withdrawal, and a serious case of whooped-ass.
“--Where’s.. Hnn.” Oh, gods. Why couldn’t she just stay dead? What a horrifying journey. Disjointed memories. “Sword.”
Their relationship wasn’t really one of caring. It was built on a temporary mutual interest, and in so, she was honestly shocked that he was here at all.
“I’m not really in the know of how to help you, for clarity’s sake.”
Hands hauled her up by the shoulders. Nothing particularly gentle. Enough that she was sitting upright against the bed, head lolling bonelessly. The worn leather scabbards were pressed into her hands. She clutched them like a lifeline. Heard the demon hunter give a small sigh. “There’s no way I made it through.” Again, the thin gravel-voice.
“Is that more of a wish you hadn’t? I’m more inclined to believe it, if so.” She heard him shift on the bed. Felt him watching her like a strange insect on the floor. Alien. It was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. She could hear the faint sounds of the city outside the walls. “You need to get help. Acherian help. I doubt there’s anything that can be done for you here.”
“...Gods no.”
The flinch was reflexive and it sent her swords sliding down her lap to thump dully onto the floor. The room spun violently. She hissed a breath between her teeth, hating how even without tone in her voice, her words were almost a whine. Get your shit together, Syl. You’re back, but you’re losing what was done. You’re dying. More like returning to undeath. Between the hunger and the soul deep pain, she wasn’t sure what was real. But she was going to cling to this reality while she could.
“Another, here.” the voice seemed to come from somewhere over head. “Hmph. The Light will shine in any shadow.”
She didn’t recognize the language. Not at first. Another puzzle? N’zoth picked the best tormentors, after all. But it wasn’t demon-speech. No. It reminded her of...
Argonas? No. Avehi? Yes? No! Draenic!
The thought bubbled along haphazardly. Sudden Light burned echoes into her eyes. She’d resigned herself to this fate. Being here in Ny'alotha. She wondered if this was another painful game that they were going to play.
Right until the floor came up to cuff her across the nose. Felt it shatter under her weight. A groan escaped as she pushed herself up onto her forearms. She’d been devout once, and the phrases came to mind, but it felt so wrong. So, so wrong.
“Hey, elf.” The common was thickly accented. “Time to get moving. You’re one of those undead, right?” Male. Not the first speaker.
“Just get her on her feet.” Impatient. “No one has time to wait in this foul place. It begins to collapse. We can offer a cleanse as we exit.”
Collapse? Sylaess blinked stupidly. Collapse? She stared straight into the pristine white face with golden eyes. The mane of white hair floating about her horns made her think of some strange halo, but the expression was cold and unforgiving. Syl didn’t blame her.
There was intense pressure on her jaw. She tossed her head but couldn’t get rid of it.
“There you are. Welcome back.”
Destarion’s faux nobility drawl. She blinked a few times, trying to make heads or tails of it. Reality wasn’t what it should be anymore. It was terrifying. He had her by the jaw, holding her head still. Firm, but not cruel.
“You keep seizing. You. Need. To. Go. Back.”
He let her go, standing up from his crouch. Her chest was tight with fear at the thought of Acherus, but she couldn’t recall why. She watched him pour a short glass of... liquor. Collected herself enough to roll and press off of the floor. Rising with care. Everything was wavering like a candle flame. Found herself gripping her scabbards like they were a safety blanket.
The demon hunter simply frowned at her from across the room. He was here, but she didn’t know why. There was no love between them, and she certainly had lost her usefulness. It wasn’t caring, which was fine. That would have made it awkward. More awkward.
Damn it all, he was right.
Cold sweat slicked her forehead again. Oh no.
Caught sight of his eye-roll behind his blindfold. Fucking spare me! Drummed up the power to call it. To rip open a death gate. The pressure felt like her veins were going to explode with the force of dragging up enough magic.
It sputtered before her and went out like a limp dick. Frustration reared up in her in a strangled, close-mouthed noise. Her legs jellied and she sat on the bed hard.
“Shit.” She breathed the word out and let herself fall back on the mattress, swords clattering on her chest. No armor. Huh. Somehow that felt more naked than being without clothes. “I don’t have a plan for this.”
“Evidently.”
“I need... “ Say it. Say it you fucking tool. You could’ve let Argonas give you your stupid absolution, but no. “I need another Knight. To get to Acherus.” Or to finish the fucking slow ass process of undeath.
Not far away from where she was, leaning against the railing as he looked out onto the ocean was Nedemus. Inner conflict wore on him as he watched, one of his long nails grinding gently against the wood as he sighed.
It honestly took more effort than she was willing to account for to get herself out onto the boardwalk. One step at a time. She stumbled unsteadily out of the rented room and onto the boardwalk. The sea breeze smacked into her face wetly, less of a smell, more of an assault.
What a fucking mess.
Eyes blurry, she made it to the railing. Hooray. Holding herself upright and looking better than she felt at least. Destarion sighed and watched for a minute before slipping away in the crowd. Shook his head.
The nearness of other people was abrasive. She gripped the railing like the world had turned upside down.
“--Ned?” It startled her that she knew his name.
He blinked upon hearing his name, the worgen turning his head towards the source. Before him stood… “... Sylaess? It’s been…” He blinked once more, giving her another lookover. She looked… alive? At least as alive as they were in their states. “Are you alright?”
Thoughts tumbled over each other in a fight for freedom from her mouth. She ended up saying nothing for a long moment, trying to compute what weird luck this was. Shook her head a bit.
“No.”
A breath in slowly. Held gently. “Are you?”
He narrowed his eyes a bit in worry, pushing himself off the railing as he stepped towards her. “I’m fine, don’t worry about that… What’s wrong?” He asked her, slow in his approach.
“I...” How to explain? Made the worst decision in her miserable unlife, twice? Good try. “Need to get to a rune forge. Acherus.” Or somewhere. She steadied herself, holding her ground. It was hard enough to have her gaze hold his what with the world twisting, but it was getting easier. Small battles.
He watched her for a moment, before nodding softly, turning his head away and holding up his hand to the open area beside them, the dark energy forming a gate before him. His hand lowered, gaze turning once more towards her as he offered a hand. “What happened to you?”
“...I’m a magnificent idiot.” She smiled bleakly. With her gravelly, ruined voice it didn’t really stick. Shook her head and nearly tumbled for it. Oh dear. “Need to fix my blades.” She stared at his hand a moment before gripping it. Couldn’t help but feel the dread of returning to Acherus after all this bloody time, but it had to be something. Anything to anchor herself from this freefall.
“Thank you.” Softly spoken.
He moved in close, helping to catch her as he noticed her struggling, keeping an arm around her as he escorted her to the gate, moving slow and careful. “Aren’t we all.” He said softly, with a chuckle, before shaking his head. “It’s… No problem. I’ll help you get to the forges… Soon as I Remember where they are.”
He stepped through the gate, traveling the pair through and into the dark halls of Acherus. He glanced around, his ear flicking a bit as he tried to remember...
It didn’t go well. One minute she was grateful for his support, the next, she was a boneless sack of skin being held up through a portal. Good times, good times.
Wading back into consciousness was very much like being a tiny little rowboat out on the great ocean. Half full of water. She flinched hard, stumbling and throwing an arm up over her face, but her leg went sliding out from under her. What a mess.
It didn’t take long for Ned to grunt a bit, scooping his arms underneath her legs and hoisting her in his arms, bridal style. He walked through the halls, ignoring the glances from the other death knights as he made his way towards the forges. “You still have your blades?”
“Yeah.” She spoke mutedly, trying to figure herself out again. Sure enough, they were in their scabbards, strapped to her back. There wasn’t room for dignity anymore. Not in her condition. Ny’alotha still clung to her mind like an infestation of worms.
Blades. Right. One was salvageable. Enough to get her by. So she hoped. It had cracked at some point, near the hilt but not all the way through. Trusting the master rune forger could be of use. She shuddered, remembering the second one.
He gave a soft nod as they arrived to the forge, Ned bringing her in close as he helped her to stand - keeping his arm around her for support.
Okay, stand. Honestly. Stand. Drag up what’s left of yourself and get this done. Sylaess ended up leaning on him a fair bit. As if she hadn’t just been carried in like some waif. Ignoring that fact, she gripped his arm a moment. Took a small breath and steadied up. “I can’t thank you for this.”
#Nedemus#sylaess#sylaess chasewind#acherus#boralus#SO MANY BAD DECISIONS SYL#WOW#new record!#play stupid games win dumber prizes#messin with the wrong powers my dude
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F/M/K for Argonas. Mierne, Sylaess and Lassair.
“Hm. A perplexing one... I like Mierne, but of the three, we have no real connection. I would select her to be killed. I recall Lassair being a decent cook, and a wonderful conversationalist. I could see marrying her being a pleasant experience. Though, that leaves...”
(( @sylaess @miernethepersevering ))
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✿ Send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile! ✿
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▼ If you want to. This could be hysterical!
Alex was entirely confused as this tall night elf sat upon his lap. Her eyes as dark as night as she looked upon him. Alex looked towards her when it dawned on him, “Wait...you’re the woman from the docks. So you -have- come looking for me.” Alex gave her a grin as he’d nod his head towards her.
( @sylaess )
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Tower Ascendance - Part I
(( Story co-written with @argonas / @thefugitivemango and @sylaesschasewind / @sylaess . @avehi-the-adamant and @grakkar-gorefang for character mention ))
~*~*~
Argonas grunted as he tore the pointed edge of his tower shield from the now-lifeless Mawsworn Shackler-- nothing inside its sundered armored chest plate but ethereal smoke. A hollow suit, at least now. He strapped his shield back to his arm, before continuing towards the next stairwell. Up again. Up eternally, it seemed.
Avehi had made good on her word, and brought both him and his Soulbind Grakkar to the Maw. For Argonas, it was the second time-- third, if when he died counted. Such was the case for the only other time Grakkar had been here; the memories of it shaking him to his core. And being soulbound to him now, to Argonas’ core as well. Grakkar needed help and guidance more than Argonas did, for now.
While Avehi and Grakkar ventured off to recover the misplaced souls of the Lightbound-oppressed Orcs, Argonas entered the infamous Torghast. All evidence outside pointed to Sinafay-- and possibly Sylaess-- being captured and taken here. A possibility that haunted him after last seeing Sylaess in Bastion; with the upset in the Maw upon their entry, the Jailer’s forces were especially active. It was only a matter of time. Time Argonas had hoped to beat, but now it seemed more like a time he had fallen behind.
There was no alternative-- he had to get them out.
No two floors of this place were identical, it seemed. Similar in design and structure, but the layouts were… winding. Confusing. Almost random. It was easy to get lost, Argonas figured out early on. To remedy this, he began leaving “breadcrumbs” to help guide him back out if needed. Light-suffused sigils etched into pillars and gates that-- for lack of originality-- translated to… breadcrumb. Simple, but effective.
Of course he met resistance at every turn. Swarms of Mawsworn sentires, and their ghastly metallic beasts. A hulking armored monstrosity that thankfully he had managed to topple off a ledge. Occasional distant clankings and unholy screams that echoed through the tower suggested the monster was still falling, even now.
But as he came upon a crossroads, he found himself unsure. The stairs both led upwards, one banking left and the other to the right. Into differing chambers, it seemed. He knelt down, brow furrowed, as he etched another “breadcrumb” into the ground. Then, still kneeling… he prayed.
“Light, guide me…” he muttered softly, clearing his mind and focusing his thoughts on Sinafay.
Nothing. Nothing sprang to mind. A simple choice, but one that could either lead him closer to his beloved, or even further away. The Light urged him onward, but he couldn’t feel one way or the other. He grunted in frustration.
“Give me a sign!”
--A streak caught his eye, a soft chime faintly heard from its direction as it darted past him. He turned, shield up just in case it was unfriendly-- like everything else in this accursed tower. But as he focused, he recognized it. A wisp? Here? It zipped to and fro, before ascending the left-hand stairs. Drawn to something, perhaps. Argonas sighed. It wasn’t exactly a sign from the Light, but it seemed a sign, nonetheless. He took off after it, eyes peeled and wary for wherever it may lead him…
~*~*~
“...So then, not only did he convince her to become a Vindicator, but then actually started -dating- her. So, of course, I tried to act supportive, but I was very upset over everything… not because I was jealous… Perhaps a -little- jealous… but you understand how awkward a situation like that is, yes?”
As a spirit, Sinafay's use in the tower was limited, so she decided to give Sylaess something to focus on to keep her present. And what better subject than to catch her up on everything she had forgotten? The whisps appeared entertained as well, floating about the shaman’s spectral form as she recounted the stories from Pandaria to Draenor. Anything was better than focusing on the horrors of the tower. It certainly kept her own spirits up as they started going down yet another spiral stairway. How long had they been wandering through this place? Weeks? Months?
“So she and I got into an argument, and—“
She cut herself off as Sylaess’ ear twitched and the elf suddenly stopped cold. That was usually a sign that she sensed something and they had to be careful. The Draene took on a defensive position, eyes locked on the downward staircase.
A light illuminated the stairwell as a whisp flew up to meet them. Loud clanking could be heard approaching behind it.
Sylaess held a breath. It wasn’t a conscious thing. Her blades were in hand, black eyes sharper than obsidian as she stared down the hallway. Leather creaked softly in her palms as her grip shifted. One. It sounds like one.
But how big is this thing?
The dizzying chatter had indeed kept her from mostly slipping into those delirious states. Seizures, well, blessedly there had been only a handful more. She couldn’t recall what had triggered them. Damn, it actually sounds large.
She set her jaw and let the breath slip past her lips slowly. Carefully. Runes blared to life along her blades.
Slowly, up her armor as she charged forward. Surprisingly quiet, but nowhere near silent, the elf practically leapt down the stairs, blades ready and magic held back by a thread. It was always more effective to go in blazing than it was to reserve yourself, she found, in Torghast.
That way, if you lost, you know you gave it everything.
The Death Knight’s runic blades clashed against Argonas’ shield-- or rather, the protective barricade of Light that emanated from it, surrounding his entire form. He shoved back reflexively, tossing Sylaess from him before readying a counter-attack. Until he recognized her, of course. He stayed his hammer swing, for the moment.
“--Sylaess!” he exclaimed, in an odd mix of excitement and scolding. “Thank the Light I found you!”
Sylaess remained a little apprehensive. She lowered her sabers after they bounced off the shield of Light brightly, shoving her back a good step, the sudden redirection of force jarring up her arms. A thin frown as she stood staring at him.
Could they use the Light, now? Was it another illusion?
The wisp flitted into her face, obscuring her scrutiny. Drawing out a sigh. A cacophony of advice hailing from nowhere and everywhere in her head. “Okay--Okay. Enough. I got it. Fuck.”
She grumbled quietly--well, quietly enough.
“Argo!” Sinafay felt her heart skip a beat… or at least, whatever the spectral equivalent to that was.., at the sound of her mate’s voice.
It felt so long since she’d last heard it, or gazed at his battle worn face. She smiled brightly at him as she skipped down the stairs to meet him, a multitude of wisps following behind her. This time, she resisted the urge to leap into his arms, lest she pass through him again and go tumbling down the stairs. Instead, she stood by where Sylaess landed, weary but well, despite their time in the tower. Her tail swayed eagerly behind her.
“Ah, Sina, my beloved! It is both a joy and a pain to see you like this!” he stated, first and foremost-- in a rather rehearsed tone.
But given he had thought of nothing else than this moment of reunification, it was to be expected that he started running lines in his mind for the occasion. That didn’t make the words any less sincere, however; seeing his mate like this was an odd mix of comforting and sorrowful. The comfort of course coming from just seeing her again, and knowing she could be saved from this place. Sorrow, though, with all the memories he still carried about losing her in the first place. And living without her ever since.
“Argonas. Do you have any idea how to get out? I’m absolutely fucking sick to death of having my ass kicked.”
Syleass’ tone was soft, but the gravelly, ruined sounds of her voice were an interesting counterpart to the gentility. Still, she sounded just as exhausted as her weathered frame looked. And out of patience. If this was another illusion, so be it. The souls did not think it so, but even they could be wrong.
The tone carried a strange desperation from her that Argonas hadn’t heard or experienced since the Exodar.Though even this was different. Weary. He didn’t think Death Knights could get tired. But then… this was more of an emotional weariness, by the sound of it. He nodded quickly to her, both to answer her question and convey appreciation for sticking with Sinafay through this madness.
“Yes!” he stated, proudly. “--I mean… hopefully. I have been leaving small Lightrunes along my path here. But this tower is ever-shifting. The way out may not be the way I came. Though I think we should try, nonetheless. We must get out of here, and reconvene with Avehi and--”
“Were you able to find a vessel?”
He stopped himself short, eyes darting to Sinafay. Perhaps leaving the detail about his Orc soulbind was prudent, for now. More prudent still, leaving out the fact that the Kyrians only gave him and Grakkar one Soul Vessel. To share. Poor Sinafay would have to ride out of this place in the company of Light-only-knew how many Orc souls Grakkar managed to recover. He didn’t know the mechanics, exactly-- would they even notice each other in there? He hoped not.
Either way, a bridge they would cross when they got to it.
“--and another we brought.” he explained, vaguely. “Another Avehi agreed to ferry back out of the Maw with us. The vessel is with them. I did not want to leave them without it in case I did not escape this tower. But once we do, we will all escape the Maw!”
Thankfully for Argonas, Sinafay was only half listening to his words, once again entranced with taking in the sight of him.
“Well, hopefully there’s plenty of room in there. I think a few souls are looking to escape with us.”
Some of the wisps had already begun gravitating around the Vindicator, seeming to take comfort in the Light aura he surrounded himself in. Something a living mortal might miss, but obvious for spirits like herself to make out.
One wisps curiously remained by Sylaess. Sinafay tilted her head slightly at how odd it was. It must have had some form of connection to her. Unfortunately, Sinafay only now realized how little she knew of Sylaess outside their interactions together.
She opened her mouth to ask, only for a loud roar to ring out and startle everyone. The entire tower seemed to shake as a behemoth form began making its way down the stairs, towards the group. The wisps began to flutter about in a panic, and the sound alone caused Sinafay to tremble.
“Fuck,” she whispered as she backed away down the stairs and towards Argonas. She knew what it was, even though she didn’t exactly know how. Knowledge to all the spirits trapped in the tower perhaps, “The Tarragrue…”
Wide eyes turned to her mate, fear in her gaze, “Run… we cannot fight this one…”
~*~*~
#{Story Logs} → “The pleasance of our fairytale”#{Argonas} → “Only a few find the way”#{Sylaess} → “You’re thinking about something and it makes you forget to talk”#{Warcraft Verse} → “Either it brings tears to their eyes”
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