itanyablade
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Inherently Sarcastic
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Post by itanyablade on Jun 19, 2007 15:36:19 GMT -5
It seemed rather silly to get so sentimental over a rat, but Whiskers had been in her packs for a long time. He had escaped death so many times and now she had been the one to feed him to the Darkness. She felt so guilty. Pill ran a bony finger down his head and sighed as there was no response. She could have handled an undead rat, but this lifeless ball of fur was too much. She picked up the body and tucked it into a pile of grass and twigs. It did not take very long for it to burn.
She had set up her equipment beneath a tent. Too dangerous to try one of the houses, ghosts and other things were always flitting in and out of those. A tent was easiest to move if she heard the scarlets coming. Nothing made a sound in the plaguelands unless it was attacked or attacking. So any sound like that and she could just pick up and move. Her raptor was swift, if annoyed at staying so long in this place. Only place the annoying thing was happy was in Stranglethorn.
She should have waited to try the liquid on Whiskers, the mage knew that now, but she had been so positive that she knew what she had. She did not think that the little rat would be all dead. “Don’t ya ba wool-gatherin, lass.” Pill ground her teeth together as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Not going to talk like that. I am not!” She forced all her words out in clipped tones. She glared around, finally fixing her gaze on her bird pet, who gave an appropriately distressed meep and ran off.
“And you stay away from those maggots, stupid git.” She watched to make sure the little featherbrain did not wander off too far, before turning her attention to the terrariums. Two batches of maggots were ruined, by whatever had been in the vial. Not that either batch had been all that exciting before exposure. Certainly, nothing she had done had achieved such changes in life cycle. For one thing, there were no flies. Not a one. The liquid had stunted their maturation rate, but not their growth. Worse, in both terrariums there were now only two large maggots, circling each other endlessly. All the other maggots were dead. They had eaten each other.
Her fingers twitched as she scratched notes down. She would make a dash to Light’s Hope later to drop these in the mail for Davien to look over. Maybe she could make some suggestions. The clatter of metal and glass managed to make her smear a page and she turned to burn whatever had disturbed her.
“No! No! No!” The flightless bird scampered away, losing multicolored feathers as it ran pell-mell away from the enraged mage. The two disturbed and oversized larva attacked each other with relish. Pill scooped up the bird and cursed as she lit the broken experiment on fire.
“Those things are bad, Yeh hear?” She put the bird in both hands so she could look at it face to beak. She was rewarded with a timid “meep.” “I don’t care how tasty they look. Yeh’re not going to bloody well eat them. That’s bad stuff.” The bird meeped once more, so she put it on the ground. It bent its beak over the burnt pile of maggot guts and twisted metal and gave a sneeze.
“Going ta be a long night, I’m thinking.” She looked down at the last remaining a experiment for the day. “And longer day tomorrow too.”
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itanyablade
Guild Member
Inherently Sarcastic
Posts: 838
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Post by itanyablade on Jun 21, 2007 14:23:02 GMT -5
She watched him leave the chapel, watched as he walked among them, barely control her fury as he spoke to them. “Stop.. stop it.” She told herself and gave her body a little shake. She heard a soft meep from her back and twitched again. “Please be quiet, please.” Her hands tightened into boney fists and forced herself to breathe through her mouth. A few moments concentrating on her breathing, ragged as it was, allowed her to turn back to watching him.
He came close to her hiding place. “Leonid!” She hissed his name, but was relieved when he turned towards her. Looking at his skeletal face did not summon feelings of rage in her.
“Girl, what are you doing in the bushes, what there is of them.” He hefted his axe and looked around suspiciously. Despite the lack of threats, he did not lower the weapon. The taunt and desiccated flesh on his face could not convey much in the way of expression, but he paused his inspection of the area and took a second look at her.
“What happened to your face.” His free hand grabbed her chin and raised it up so that he could get a better look. She put a hand on his wrist to try and stop him. She hadn’t the strength, but she left a trail of fluid and gore along his arm as she tried. “What’s wrong with you, girl?” He gave her head a shake, before releasing her. “I’ll have one of the healers look at you. Call that guild leader of yours too.”
She wanted to trust him. When she had finally admitted that she could no longer trust Sylvanas, it was Leonid Barthalomew that she had sought out for advice. No, it was herself that she did not trust. “Can’t. Too many living. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” She ripped her bags off her back and thrust them at him. “I see HIM, Leonid. I hear HIM, whispering… whispering in my head. I ripped out my eyes and I still see HIM!”
He ripped the pack from her hands and threw it to the ground. “What the hell are you babbling about?” She turned away from him, clutching her arms to her side, but he grabbed an arm. “Corspilla! Look at me, girl.” She turned her ravaged face back towards him, not really wanting to know what he saw. “You see who.”
“HIM! Sitting on his throne, waiting. Just waiting for us to go back to him. Waiting, always waiting. And planning. Boy and man all wrapped up together. He doesn’t need a queen, doesn’t want one. Make us all slaves again. Killing.” She paused an let out a hissed breath. He was touching her. A quick gesture was all it took to remind him that while she might not have a weapon, she was still dangerous.
“Traitor” She hissed at him. “Think you’re safe but you’re not. HE sees you too. The day is coming soon.” Her cries had brought more attention that she liked. The rest of the foolish Dawn would rally, they would strike. She would not fight where there was no chance of victory, but the time would come. Corspilla turned and fled, sheltered by things that would have attacked her only a few days ago.
From her forgotten pack, a small flightless bird shoved his way out into the dim sunlight. He looked up at the undead that stood over him and meeped loudly. His feathers were singed and covered in a black ash, but he looked uninjured. Tied to his back was a journal. Aside from that, her pack held nothing more than the ash that covered the bird.
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Post by Threnn on Jun 26, 2007 22:24:35 GMT -5
"Promise you won't light me on fire," Pill said a week ago, before confessing not only to working with Canthos, but also to having saved a snippet of Ahka's deadly plagueblossom.
"Promise you won't yell," Pill said three days ago, after she met with Bittertongue and two of the people she'd crossed paths, blades and spells with on that job for Canthos.
"Promise you won't come any closer," Pill said now, as Davien climbed off her warhorse. The shorter woman was rambling, her words stumbling over one another as they spilled from her lips. She spoke of HIM, always HIM, always watching, and she wouldn't give him a name, not beyond HIM.
This wasn't her Pill; the Corspilla she knew was sometimes caustic, often angry, but never... never mad.
"So angry, and he doesn't want a queen," she ranted. "Only slaves. Thought I could be me, out here, but I still see HIM! Got no eyes! Still see HIM! And whispers - " her hands flailed about.
Davien went pale. The Lich King? What other "HIM" is there? "Y'... y'hear him again?"
"YES! All the time. One minute, I'm just doing stuff...normal stuff. Next minute...collecting things, motes and herbs. Can't make it all myself." Her face turned slightly away. "Maybe soon, I will. When I stop fighting..."
Davien blinked at her. ..."Got no eyes?" Did she just say...? Those weren't tears coming from beneath the leather straps the other mage used to cover her eyes. It was ichor and blood. "Oh, Pill..."
"So confused. Don't want you to be my Mira."
"I won't, sweetling..." Pill had never forgiven Yva for Mira's death. No one had, except Davien herself. She'd stayed the Eye's hand when they called for Yva's punishment; far too many of them would have tried killing the ice mage, something Yva insisted couldn't be done. "Find a way, Davien," she'd said. "Find a way to kill me."
Pill continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Birdbrain knocked over the stand with the beaker on it. He was chasin' a bug. It all spilled.. on the ground and on me. And then... I saw HIM! Big as life. And he saw me. He did."
"The stand with y'r plaguebloom?"
"No, not the plant... Was testing the thing Bricu gave me. Thought I knew what it was. Was so sure."
"His dust? Made 'ee hear the Lich King?"
"And see him... and I think dance for him too.. Sometimes it's louder than whispers."
Davien gritted her teeth. What have 'ee brought upon us, Bittertongue? The first time she'd ever seen him was at Sorrow Pass, driving a band of orcs up the slope - a force that turned the tide of the day's battle. They hadn't spoken out there on the field; if he remembered her from the fighting, he'd never said. She'd been one volunteer under Narokor's command; there was no reason she'd have stood out. Yet, whether or not he recognized her, she recognized him, and every time their paths had crossed, she'd looked upon him as a brother in arms. But now... He's meddlin' with things the same as Uthas. He can't be that great a fool. "We need to get 'ee cleansed," she said, focusing on Pill once more.
"No...just stay away from me."
"Oh, and what? Let 'ee go back t'what y'were before Sylvanas? I think not. I'm not losin' another t'madness." Davien advanced a step, pebbles skittering down the slope beneath her soft-soled boots.
"Can't stop HIM." Pill glanced about like she might flee.
She stopped moving, tensed to freeze Pill to the ground, if she had to. "Y'can. Y'r will was strong enough t'throw off the voice once. Y'can do it again."
Corspilla looked over her shoulder, towards Area 52. "Perfect place down there. No one would think of the plague at first there. Not out here. Right under the Legion's pretty nose."
"Y're not bringin' plague."
The other woman turned around to look. On a normal day, she had to crane her neck a bit to look up at Davien. She had to tilt it even more now that Davien was upslope. "I can."
"Y'won't."
"Want to." Her smile grew insouciant, baiting.
"Y'bloody well won't," Davien growled, feeling the heat bloom in her palms.
Pill must have sensed it. "Burn me? Will you do that then?" She turned back toward the city, weighing. "I thought we were friends."
Davien forced the heat away. "If it comes t'that, I will."
"Might just. Pretty pretty Davien. A nice cloak and you could slip into Stormwind for me, speak to the right people, get what i need."
"I'll do no such thing." She paused and looked at her friend. "Pill? Am I even talkin' to 'ee now?"
"Sometimes," said Pill, simply. "Don't know."
"Y''re no plaguebringer." Pill twitched at the title; Davien forged on. "Y'wouldn't do it, not by choice."
"Don't want to be, most of the time. Just scared." She sat down in a saggy lump. "But at the same time, I want it. Want it so bad... I never wanted things before." She paused, musing. "Last time, it was all mindless ravaging. Eat and rest and eat again."
"What part is it y'want?" Davien wanted to reach out and pat her. Instead, she could only sit again, as close as she dared without spooking Pill.
"Everyone all together...all united. It's almost appealing. Almost."
"Y'think it'd stay that way?" She spat to the side. "He'd turn us on one another and have us tear ourselves apart."
Pill twitched again, the corners of her smile twisting. "No, we'd be his army. You, me, others...powerful. Fight the Legion, take our revenge. Or his...HIS revenge."
"Aye," Davien's voice was dark. "His, not ours. Nothin'd ever be ours again. Think on it. Y'were a slave once. Takin' that, y'd be one again. Only this time, y'd know it."
"Darkness. Why you think I'm scared? Darkness.. why you think I am scared? But sometimes, it doesn't seem so bad." Rashona's voice came over the stones, greeting the Eye, and Pill looked faraway. "I hear kitty voice and I think she wouldl make a good soldier, and I don't want to think that. And Gharr.... Him.. I hear his voice and I want to burn him.. or turn him. Use the legion's tool against them."
"We'll find a way t'make 'ee better, Pill, I promise."
"You find out.. Find out where this comes from."
"Aye. Bittertongue has some explainin' t'do." She was already composing the letter in her head, but all thoughts of it scattered when Pill reached up to rub at her eyes. Davien had noticed the ichor earlier, but the chance to ask hadn't presented itself. "What have y'done t'y'rself?"
"Aye. Y'r face. Were y'in a fight?"
"Been fighting for days!" She sounded exasperated, as if Davien hadn't listened to a word she'd said. "Fighting him. Tried not to see, couldn't close my eyes. Tried to not see, nothing worked. Don't need eyes to see HIM." She grinned as Davien startled. "Wonder if I pulled out my brain if I would still see."
"Take...take those things off," said Davien, her throat gone dry.
"Not pretty... I never was, not even before the scourge. Now.. well." Corspilla reached behind her head and unleashes the straps from over her face. "Nothing to stop HIM."
Davien choked back a sob. "Oh...oh sweetling, no..." Propelled by pity and fear, she crawled forward; Pill recoiled at the sound of skin and silk on stone, coming closer.
"YOU STAY BACK!"
"Y're not goin' t'hurt me. Let me see." She tried on the voice she'd croon to Kyree with when the girl's imagination created monsters in her bedroom. It didn't work on the Forsaken.
Neither had heard Rashona appear behind them, one moment a splendid bird, the next a lion from the Plains of Mulgore. The druidess purred like a kitten. "Davien! I...was hoping to see you."
"Kitty..." The other woman's presence calmed Pill a bit. "You stay over there with Davien."
"Aye, stay where y'are. She's frightened." Davien sank back onto her knees as Rashona backed away slowly, positioning herself right beside Davien.
From bird to lion a moment ago, now Rashona switched from lion to tauress. "I was going to ask if you knew what was wrong, but...it seems to be getting more so, whatever it is." Her voice rumbled melodically in Davien's ear, so Pill couldn't hear.
"She was tinkerin' with somethin'," the mage muttered back. Pill had mostly lost interest, rambling to herself once more. "And got it on her.."
"Is that why she was talking so strangely? And then not talking at all? I've been getting letters...I don't like this."
"And I'm goin' t'light Bittertongue on fire." It was said more to herself than to Rashona, but she felt the approving nod. "She says she's hearin' the Lich King," she addressed the druidess once more. "And seein' him."
"Damn. I was...beginning to fear that, from the way she wrote. Real, or delusion?"
"I don't know yet. I'm hopin' for delusion."
Pill's muttering had wound down and now she was regarding the conferring women curiously.
Davien raised her voice. "Rashona, do y'have t'touch her for a healin'?"
"No. I can stay at a distance." She stood, the cool green glow of nature surrounding her. "Corspilla? Can I try?" At Pill's nod, Rashona let the magic go. Netherstorm smelled like the plains after a good hard rain while the healing worked its way into Pill.
"Tickles," she said, looking around. "Still there.. Whispering, but not talking. Maybe scared of the Earthmother. Dunno. Maybe just playing with me. Not perfect. Maybe I can talk to Davien now without plotting the corruption of the Eye." She paused a moment, slyly. "Would that make it pink eye?"
Davien and Rashona shared a relieved grin. "There's my Pill," said Davien.
"For a little, maybe." The joke was over already.
"Then tell me what y'can."
Pill settled back and talked, more herself than she'd been all night, telling them of her experiments - the maggots and Whiskers; Birdbrain knocking over the beakers; Pill getting the substance off of him but on herself. "It's not the old plague, Davien. I know that... I know it needs things from out here. This is a new plague."
"I'm more than a wee bit tired of plagues," she said. "Pill, y'need t'rest."
"Dunno...maybe nap after another healing? Maybe for a bit." They argued about where she could go to sleep. Everywhere was too dangerous - the Sepulcher was too close to Dalaran; Moonglade had too many lives, too many thoughts.
Davien tapped at her lips. "What about... Do 'ee remember where I had Jessen and Kyree at first? There's a cave in Mulgore, outside of the Bluffs."
Pill nodded after a long moment. "That will work."
Rashona cocked an ear at Davien's mention of the children, trying not to look too curious.
"I've moved them out of Mulgore," she said with a grin. "I promise."
Pill's hand dipped into a pocket of her robes, drawing out a runestone. She channeled mana through it, and as it crumbled to dust, she disappeared. "Don't be too long," her voice echoed.
"That was...disturbing," said Rashona. She pulled a sheaf of letters from her packs and handed them to Davien. The mage read silently, shadows occasionally flickering across her eyes.
"...half-mad," she muttered, and passed them back.
"I know." Rashona tucked them away. "Normally, she fights - anything, whether she needs to fight it or not. This? I don't know."
"It's... I remembered, a while back. What it was t'be Scourge. I remembered his voice in my head, but it was... It was in a dream, of sorts. He had no sway. Pill, though... Hearin' it while she's awake. While her mind's her own..."
"She's said things before that make me believe her memories are more vivid than most. But that talk of "wanting it" disturbs me almost as much as the voices. I'd asked her to talk to you, if she wouldn't speak to a priest or shaman. As you can tell, she didn't think much of the idea." They stood, watching gryphons and windriders come and go over the goblin town.
At last, Davien said softly, "Aye. She said she'd welcome death, too."
Rashona stomped a hoof in what could be fear or anger. "That is not Corspilla. Either something does have a hold on her, or she's far more beaten down than I feared."
"No, it's not. I'm afraid she'll stop fightin'. I..." Davien looked down at her hands, sadly. "I'll destroy her, if it comes t'that. But I don't want to."
The druidess frowned in thought. "Truthfully? I'm not sure I could make myself. Too much time protecting her in battle. There aren't that many people whose judgment I trust. If you told me it had to be done, I would help. But...I wouldn't be much good after."
She shook her head. "No, I'd not ask y'to. Yva, Gharr, now Pill. I'll bear that burden for all of us, Rashona."
Rashona bowed. "I thank you. But I'd rather not lose the both of you."
"Well, we'll hope it doesn't come t'that, then."
"I can at least keep a watch on her - though I can't go teleporting myself over both the worlds like the two of you can. Except to Moonglade, which I tend to avoid regardless. Too many stuffy elves."
"Ah, now," said Davien, "It's pretty there." She reached for a rune of her own. "I should go see t'her, though, speakin' of teleporting. And make sure she's sleepin' easy."
"All right. Safe travels, and let me know if there's anything I can do."
"I will." They hugged each other. Rashona spread her arms wide as she stepped back, fur turning to feather as she stepped into the air.
Davien watched her go, then whistled for Cavale. Her warhorse stomped and snorted as she swung up into his saddle. Most days, Davien let him rest in the stables while she went off on her windrider. Outland's terrain worked hell on the dead horse's hooves. But tonight she wanted speed. He carried her to the goblin town and obeyed perfectly as she sawed the reins when she drew even with the couriers' hut. He reared just far enough to look frightful, but not enough to throw her off his back.
There were several couriers free, lounging about the low-ceilinged room. Maybe it was laziness that made them avoid eye contact with her - no one wanted to venture out delivering messages with the Legion running rampant. Or maybe it was her height - the top of her head stopped just short of brushing the roof. It would take three goblins standing on one another's shoulders for one to look her level in the eye. It could have been the way she stalked across the dusty floor.
Any number of things could have made the idle couriers look away from the mage, but only one thing made Daxil "Boots" Fizzlecrank cower.
He remembered her.
Or, more appropriately, he remembered at whose side she used to travel.
"No!" he said, scrambling backwards over his chair. "No! Can't take any commissions! Busy! Important business for Undermine, yes! Dire, dire busi-OH GODS GET YER HANDS OFF ME I'LL DO ANYTHING." He kicked frantically as she took hold of his lapels and lifted him to eye-level. Her hands were hot enough to make the fabric smoke.
"Shut up and listen t'me. Y'remember the death Christof used t'bring t'y'r kind in Booty Bay and Everlook and Ratchet. I swear to 'ee, if the letter I'm about t'write doesn't reach Stormwind by sunset - in the same condition I hand it to 'ee - I'll make y'wish I'd sent 'ee t'him in Northrend, trussed up and with an apple between y'r over-large teeth. Nod if 'ee understand."
He quivered out a nod. She set him down and pulled a sheet of parchment and a quill off his desk to write in her firm, strong hand:
Bittertongue -
The Salty Sailor, Booty Bay. Three days hence.
We have business.
-Stonemantle
She folded it and pulled a lump of wax from a pile. It melted at her touch. She pressed the ring with the Eye of Noxilite to the letter and glanced up at Daxil as the wax cooled. "Why're y'gibberin' now?"
"M-muh-m-miss Stonemantle..." He cringed under her glare and pointed to a chart on the wall. "It...it... it's nuh-nearly sunset in St-st-stormwind now."
"Tell me how this is a problem," she said, "and don't make me slap the stutter out of 'ee."
He swallowed, his eyes huge. "I have to catch a bird to Shattrath. That's...it's an hour's travel at least, even on a swift one. It will be dark by the time I get to the portals."
Davien threw her head back and laughed. The goblin eeped. It eeped again when she reached into her belt pouch, but all she produced were two runes, one larger than the other. "Y'forget, sweetling. I can send 'ee t'Shattrath, easy as rippin' a hole in the Nether." She whispered her spell into the larger of the stones and made sure Daxil placed the letter in his satchel. "Now," she said, as the light of A'dal flickered into the hut, "run."
He did.
The other goblins were suddenly intent on their business when she spun around once the portal closed. She smirked and whispered to the other stone, composing herself once more as the Nether wrapped around her and pulled her to Thunder Bluff. It wouldn't do to let Pill see her like this.
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itanyablade
Guild Member
Inherently Sarcastic
Posts: 838
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Post by itanyablade on Jun 28, 2007 13:14:20 GMT -5
Sleep continued to claim her. Being torn between life and death did not mean the mind did not need to rest and hers need rest more than most. Digging out of the grave had not been this difficult, she thought foggily as she felt hands prop her body against knees. It also seemed to be accompanied by drunken singing in Taurahe.
“Quiet, sweetling. It’s all right.” She wanted to tell Davien to stay away, but the words would not come, nor would her arms respond to the demand that they swat away the cloth she felt on her face. She also wanted that singing to stop.
She heard a snort that could only come from a Tauren snout. “Shouldn’t she be on the bluff.” Though she couldn’t focus on the figure that blocked the sunlight trying to reach into the depths of the cave, Pill recognized Linedan’s hesitant voice. The reticent warrior was a bull of few words.
“She wouldn’t hear of it and I don’t want to upset her.” Pill wanted to protest the treatment, but couldn’t. Something like sleep tinged with sickness reached up to claim her and dragged her back into darkness.
But before she was swallowed she heard a drunken Ahka say “Down here is better! Better with the booze!” The Tauren’s drunken hiccup was the last sound she heard.
The dream is different this time.
Rain continued to fall against the opaque panes of glass, making their own kind of muted music. Lamplight flickered and a fire cracked in a small hearth. The young girl moaned softly in her bed and the woman sitting at her bedside patted the child’s head with a damp cloth.
“Somethin’ wrong with ma girl?” The woman turned to look at the doorway. The man in the doorway was tall and dark. The light caught on his armor, lighting it like a fairy story. He leaned against the doorway, a light smile on his face, but his eyes were on the child.
I waited all day for you
“About time ya came home. And look at ya, trailin mud and rain all through my clean house.” The woman left the bedside and moved towards the man, looking up into his eyes. “Ya girl waited for ya in the rain, Jest.” She sighed and flicked a strand of dark hair from his face. “Word came that ya men had come back yestaday.”
“Aye, so they did.” Jest placed a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “And then I had ta dance in court, Afridr. Tis no different then any otha time.” He sighed at the look in her eyes and turned his attention to his armor. “But since I be in ya house, I’ll take tha time to take ma armor off, ifin only to please ya.”
With a sigh of her own, Afridr pushed her husband back towards the main room and started helping him remove his armor. She clucked over every bruise and half-healed cut. With the armor removed and hung in its place, they settled into silence. The rain continued to beat out its rhythm as they stared at each across the small room. Wife sat primly in a chair near her sewing and he sprawled bonelessly in another chair by the fire.
And you never came
“Oi, stop lookin at ma like that, woman.” Jest’s eyes went back to their daughter’s room. “’S not like I left her standin in the weatha on purpose.”
“Don’t ya be takin the high road with me, ya bloody tosser.” Afridr’s voice rose harshly. “Ya know ya little lass dotes on ya. She’s been prayin something fierce that you’d be `ome by her birthday.”
“An so I am.” He smiled again. “An so I am, light willing there will be no signs of the orcs for a few days.”
But they won’t
“Why canna you jus let them be. Those camps…” Afridr’s disapproving tone drew away Jest’s easy smile. “Tis no wonder why they took the firs’ chance ta run. Light knows I would.”
“Don’t be startin with tha again.”
“Aye, I’ll let it rest, fa now. More importan things to discuss aside from tha mistreatment of those poor creatures.” She poured tea for them both, taking her time.
“Out with it already.” Jest took the mug she offered him, watching her as she moved back across the room. It was to be a serious discussion, then.
“Dalaran” Afridr finally looked at her husband as she retook her seat. She did not touch her tea.
Jest frowned and shook his head. “No, I’ll not be havin my lass there.”
“Jest…”
“I said no, I mean no. Ifin she reaches her majority and she still be wantin’ that fools dream, fine. But till then, my lass is no mage. I’ll have her cleaning latrines in the army first.”
“Jest...”
“No.”
“You canna keep her here forever. She’s nearly grown, not that you would know.” They both sighed deeply.
Cause you are never home.
“I have a duty, ya knew that when ya married ma.” He looked weary and tired, all of the sudden. His shoulders sagged and his eyes dropped to the wooden floorboards.
“Aye. Aye, I knew’t all.” Afridr crossed the small room and placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “But she didn hava choice, now did she? Her ma wanderin abou’ takin care of folks and her da off with his duty.”
A knock on the door stopped them both, Jest rose from his seat. His wife tugged half-heartedly at his arm. “Don ya ba opening tha door, ya hear?”
“I have a duty, Afridr.” He looked none to pleased, but he pulled his arm out of her grasp and walked across the room. The knock came again.
“Aye, ya bloody tosser. Gotta duty ta me and ya lass, though you’ve seem ta forgotten us.”
Jest opened the door, revealing a young man, soaked to the bone. His blue and gold tabard smeared with mud. “Sir, you’ve been summoned back to the Court.” Jest nodded and threw his cloak, still dripping, over his shoulders.
He turned back to his wife and lingered for a few moments. “Why do ya think I am doin this, but for ya and ma lass? I’ll ba back jus as soon as I can.”
But you never came back
The drunken singing seemed to have tapered off, but Pill knew the singer was still there. She hissed as she saw Ahka come a bit closer. The bull seemed a bit unsteady as he walked towards the mouth of the cave. Her hiss drew the attention of the other inhabitant of the cave.
“Good morning, Pill” Linedan’s rumble voice rose up from his crouched form.
“Where’s Davien?” She tried to seek out her friend, her safe friend, but the cave held only three of them, quickly reduced to two as Ahka made his way into the sunlight, presumably to water what passed for bushes.
“Getting breakfast.” Linedan rose to his hooves.
“Ready for battle, cow.” Her voice sounded ragged and harsh, even in her ears, but she couldn’t take any chances. Her dreams had been unpleasant, but not filled with visions of her puppet master, but maybe it was a ruse. Maybe he was just waiting for an opportunity.
With a heavy sigh, the Tauren picked up his shield. He had been refastening the straps on it. “Wasn’t planning on fighting, just having some breakfast.” He looked towards the bluff, probably trying to catch a glimpse of a tall woman in a floppy hat. Moving with deliberate caution, Linedan made his way farther into the cave.
“They tell you about me?” She asked as he lowered a hand to help her up from the nest of blankets and cloaks that had served for a bed… for how long? She did not know. “Tell you I was dangerous?”
Linedan snorted. “You’ve always been dangerous, Pill.” He waited for her to take his hand.
“Dunno, Lin.” She started at his hand, feeling her anxiety rise again. She wanted to take it, to feel safe with the eye, with this bull, with her friend, but she didn’t know anymore. Maybe the hold was gone. She had had no dreams, not like those visions she had, but she could not tell. Was it a trick? Maybe it was all in her head?
He’s got no name, that cow. How about plaguebringer? No, that is probably best for the other cow. Blightfriend, maybe. *chuckle*
Her hand froze, halfway to gripping Linedan’s. “No!” She scrambled to her feet and took a few steps away from him. “You stay away from me, Lin. It’s not safe.” She started looking towards the mouth of the cave. Ahka had yet to come back from whatever he was doing.
“Pill, just relax. Davien will be right back.” He held his hand open, but kept his shield close to his chest. He turned to follow her as she skittered against the wall. “Pill, Davien wanted you to wait for her.
“Can’t! not safe.” She shook her head. Linedan made a lunge to grab and Pill cast a spell. The blast of arcane power roared towards the warrior and Pill did not wait to see what happened. She sprinted towards the cave. Whether by intent or instinct, Linedan reflected the spell back at Pill. It caught her full in the back, knocking her from her feet and sending the tiny forsaken woman flying. She hit Ahka as he was coming back in.
Druid and mage tumbled for a bit. They came to a stop with Pill atop Ahka’s broad chest. She hissed at him, angrily and then took back to her feet. She pulled a runestone from a pocket and felt it crumble to dust as she pushed power through it. “You tell them. To stay away from me. Safer for everyone. Safer for you to, plaguebringer.”
Her voice whispered away as she vanished from sight, having blighted Ahka with her words.
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Jul 1, 2007 22:25:57 GMT -5
"Awesome!" Ahka yelled. That was a cool nickname! The druid pounced again and sat triumphantly on his exasperated friend's chest. As best he could, anyway. "I win!" he said smugly. There was a lot of noise coming out of the mage's mouth that he wasnt paying attention to. Corspilla freed herself enough to blink away and then began to run as though all the giants under the earth were at her heels. Ahka's maniac laughter didnt help. She wasnt exactly looking where she was going, and soon found herself one foot off of a large cliff.
"Hey! That's cheating!" Ahka yelped. He sprinted forward and caught Pill by the collar. The weight in his mouth was more than he had anticipated, and soon instead of 'tagging' his quarry he was earthbound with it. Feather and beak replaced tooth and mane in a flash, and with all his might Ahka was barely able to use his wings to glide towards the earth. Pill squirmed in his claws. "Let me off, cow!..bird..! I'm not afraid of falling!" No reply.
Ahka went "SCREEEEEEEEE!"
Pill crossed her arms across her chest, exasperated. "Get me out of here.." she grumbed to herself.
"Where to?" Ahka screeched. He'd carried things far heavier than Pill on his back before, and he knew all the shortcuts! This'd cheer her up for sure!
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Post by itanyablade on Jul 1, 2007 22:26:37 GMT -5
“Do you know what you’re doing? Do you?” Her helmet tucked under one arm, fist balled at her hip. Shajanna’s other hand carressing the leather hilt of her sword. Sheathed for the moment.
“I’m planting a shrub!” Kerbada grins over at her. Even seated he was her height.
“Well I’m standing here with a squad of armed men-“
He waves to them. “Hello!”
“Hello ‘Bada!” “How’s the forests?” “Welcome back!”
Scalemail clatters as she whirls rounds. Twenty four pairs of boots thunder together. Twenty four pairs of eyes stare straight ahead. She locks her gaze on them. A hawk searching tall grass. Finally, with nothing rustling, she eases back around to the tauren.
“Do your damn shrubs ever flourish?”
“Nope! They always die!”
“Why do you plant them then?” He just grins at her. As if the question hadn’t even registered. “I’ll give it three weeks, then my boys’ll replace the paving stone,” she glowers at the grey white block he’d heaved into the aquaduct, “and be done with it.”
He nods. “Of course! I expect it’ll be dead by then. But if it isn’t, you’ll call me.”
“I won’t.” But she would. Shajanna turns, settling her helmet onto her head. Oh, by the Light and her hope of salvation, she would, she would, she would. “Look smartly, now, you happy fools. All the way around to the thieves quarter.”
The thin green glow of the Undercity making the bronze of her armor black. He watches her until she passes out of sight under the far archway. Ah, to have seen her whole! He stands, clapping his hands to get the dirt off, smirking.
Back to business! There was a little troll alchemist that frequented the Undercity. Hopefully, Kiolla was available to visit the sites of his other shrubs. He’d stretch his legs and make for the mage’s ziggurat, then. If she was out, he’d leave word for her. She knew where his appartments were.
Ever since talking to Corspilla those weeks ago, he’d been putting his mind to the question of what sort of healing would work on the plants of Lordaeron. Kiolla had been so helpful in his examinations the dying plants. He takes the first of the ziggurat’s steps.
His hand comes up, shielding his eyes from the white light bursting at the teleport landing above. Two black ovals grow at the light’s center, becoming a Forsaken and a Tauren as the burst cools to blue. The Forsaken backs away from the prone Tauren. Corspilla’s Gutterspeak harsh and rising. Ahka swaying to his feet, reaching for Pill… just as her heel drops drown from the top step. Her arms windmill over her tangling legs. Ahka’s lunging, stabbing one hand out toward her, but she’s jerking away, twisting… tumbling down the steps.
Kerbada reaches into the living sea that bubbles up into the living. Feeding some of his energy into Ahka’s thriving form, and more into Pill’s checked and stunted one.
Bones cracking against stone, meat slaping against stone. Finally, the two roll to a stop at the foot of the steps, not a bruise on them. He waves as the sit up.
“Hey guys! I always show up just in time, huh?”
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Jul 2, 2007 16:30:44 GMT -5
“Strange place for a meeting.” Kerbada sat down next to her, without saying anything else. Pill watched Ahka “play” with a giant moth. She was certain the moth would lose in the end, but for now it almost brought a smile to Pill’s face.
“One place is as good as the next.” Pill shrugged, hunching over a little. She did not see what was so strange about meeting in the forest. It was, as she had said, no place in particular. Just a place. “Don’t know what happened to Ahka while he was wandering, but he’s different.”
“He’s not the only one. I do not need to speak to the Eye to know something is wrong with you, Corpise.” Kerbada chuckled as she looked away from him. There was something odd in that sound as it trailed off. Perhaps, she should have reacted in a different way than embarrassed.
“Not everyday you walk through Undercity and find a mage and druid tumbling down the steps in the mage quarter.” Her words were mumbled and she continued to watch the frolicking druid. She envied him.
“Not everyday I find Ahka dragging anyone around like a kitten, let along you.” The chuckle lasted even shorter than it did before. Pill turned to look at Kerbada, seeing that contemplating thoughtful look on his face. She was the riddle he was trying to solve today. “And I never expected to see you go along with it.”
She sighed again and pushed at the bottle of wine at her feet. It was untouched for now. She could already feel the effects of the alcohol she had consumed over the past three days begin to wear off. “I’ve been hearing the Lich King, seeing him flash before my eyes at random moments.” Kerbada did nothing. The druid remained sitting by her side.
Have I ever been this calm? Maybe this is just another part of the strings.
“Everyone has been trying to help. Davien getting me to sleep. Rashona and Lin trying to make sure I didn’t hurt myself.” She nodded towards the druid playfully pouncing giant moths, “Ahka trying to make me smile.”
“Grizz getting you completely drunk. Me saving you from the guards.” Kerbada chuckled at the mention of his bravery, which mostly involved him doing his usual smooth talking as she and Ahka scampered out of Undercity as soon as possible. “But?” She heard his chuckle repeated as turned to stare at him.
“What if it isn’t because of the stuff was I was experimenting with? What if it is just because I am weak?” She had explained to Kerbada, as best she could with Ahka constantly trying to drag her from place to place, what she had been working on for that human and why.
“Weak? You?” This was more than a chuckle. The tauren laughed deeply, which earned them both a whoop of laughter from Ahka.
“I am serious, Kerbada!” She hissed sharply. The whispers had returned in earnest, though she had yet to have any flashes or visions.
The annoying druid clapped his hands and chuckled a little more at her reacting. “So am I.” He nudged her playfully. “The weak ones are in the plaguelands still. If you were weak, you would never have become Forsaken.”
“That’s what Davien said.” As if he would tell that this one time she would not try to light him on fire, Kerbada threw an arm over her shoulder. “But I… I am not so sure.” Well at least her accent was meandering in anymore.
“Corpsie, You’d spit in the Earthmother’s eye if she appeared.”
“That doesn’t make me strong.” She barely managed a snarl as the fuzzy hand patted her shoulder. “Just makes me on’ry.”
Kerbada’s laugh echoed through his chest. Davien had asked her some time ago, why she went to Kerbada for advice. She wondered what her friend would say if she saw them now. Kerbada never judged. All the times she had snarled at him, burnt his hide in irritation, snapped at him, and he still tried to sneak a hug. He was steadfast, despite the strange face he presented.
“Reggie says she hears the whispers all the time.” Funny, if it had been Davien, she would have darted around, letting the mage ferret her out with questions. With Kerbada, it all just came out. “She said I was just being weak.”
“But you never heard the whispers?”
“Never. Never once in all this time, not since… Since my father killed me. Never saw flashes like that, either.” She shuddered with the memory of it. “None of this until I spilled that stuff on me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not weak.” The fuzzy feeling from the booze was gone and the voices were back, most were whispers, but there was one that was not quite a whisper. The cold cruelty of its, his, unheard words frightened her because they sometimes made such sense to her.
“What about Reggie, does she see things? Are her whispers the same?” Kerbada managed to break through the haze of voices. Just like sometimes the voices of the people she knew managed to pierce the haze that surrounded her.
“Does it matter?” The whispers said it did not. They said she should just surrender and it would be all right. Maybe, they were right. She did not know any more.
Kerbada laughed again and moved his arm from her shoulders. “Everything matters, Corpsie.”
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Oct 2, 2007 14:16:00 GMT -5
Voices, interfering with her concentration and she needed all her focus for the moment. The voices would not hush, however. Why could Micah not do just one thing right? Were both her children that badly damaged by the man she had chosen to father them? No, Micah was a good boy and he did as he was told. It was her eldest that was the problem. Why did she have to come home now? It was easier to deal with an absent and possibly dead daughter than a difficult and disobedient child at home.
Well, it did not matter now. The child would have to be dealt with. Unfortunately, that was not something she could leave to Micah. He was not ready for that, not yet. She should have taken Magda’s advice years ago and started teaching Micah in the ways of the cult.
There she went meandering again. It was just like those days when she had a little bit too much wine. With a sigh, she dropped the gem from her hands, slipping it back into her dress to hide it from prying eyes.
Corspilla hissed in agitation, looking around the room as if not recognizing it for a moment. “Damn it woman!”
“Sweetling?” Davien looked up from where she was scribbling at the table. Taking notes about her, no doubt. More observations for Kitty and the TreeCow to have for their research.
“Nothing.” She snarled at Davien and then attempted to smile. Stuffed into Davien’s room at an inn in Thunderbluff, she felt confined but safe. She chafed a bit, but accepted the necessity. Besides, the innkeeper had decent booze. Pill grabbed a skin from beside the bed and gulped some of the cheap wine down her throat. “Whoever she is, is frustrated and irritated, but she will not think about her name. I want to make her scream before she dies.” Her hands tightened into harsh claws and the bright spots that were now her eyes brightened, turning ever so slightly blue.
“There’ll be time for that later.” She could hear the amusement in Davien’s voice. Her loremistress was amused and that mollified her a little.
“Any word from that light-blinded idiot yet?” Her blood, what little there was of it, boiled at the thought of relying on Bricu Bittertongue for anything. Nothing good would come of it; just as nothing good had come of it now.
“It has only been a few hours.”
“Perhaps I should ask Malkavet if he is planning on going after the King of Stormwind, take that time to prowl the streets.” And maybe make a stop at the Catherdral to light some more fools on fire.
“Pill…” There was Davien’s sound of disapproval.
She cackled and smiled. “I guess not. I’ll wait for now. But if news doesn’t come back soon, I’ll not be so patient.” She might even tell Malkavet what had happened. What harm could it do to tell that interfering bossy ass about this strange plague and the control it could render?
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Jan 14, 2008 15:06:14 GMT -5
The next day, as though bidden by thought or desire, a strange messenger arrived at the Inn.
The commotion downstairs seemed to make plain that the Innkeeper at least did not find the new visitor all that welcome. It was the sound of her terse alto blowing up through the balcony and echoing off the rafters that first alerted the small company sheltering above to his presence.
"Yes well I don't give a fig what your slimy 'Master' demands you wretched thing. I'll not be lettin' the likes of you within a hundred strides of 'em. And I'll have the skin off the maid or lad that let slip they were here when I find out..." She was still going on in breathless fashion when Davien leaned over the railing to peer below. She recognized the loathsome courier immediately.
"Maggot," she whispered half to herself. He could not possibly have heard her at that distance, and it was unnerving when those hollow, dog-whipped eyes glanced suddenly up at her. No more miserable creature had ever received a more horribly appropriate label as he. The lower reaches of his face were hidden, perpetually bound behind the heavy cloth wrapped, and wrapped again, around everything that remained below his nose. The noises that came from behind that veil were a string of muffled gurgling hisses that inexplicably congealed into broken sentences and groveling whines. The hood of his grimed travel cloak was thrown back to reveal the tangled mess of oil-slick hair that crawled it's way down to his shoulders. In his mottled, swollen right hand he held a pair of scrolls. She could see the maroon wax stains of the seal from where she stood and knew immediately what he had been sent for.
"See! There she is," he gurgled in his best pleading tones. "The mage Stonemantle knows It, knows that Master has sent It with words for her."
The Tauren innkeeper glanced up over her shoulder to the balcony above, her shoulders were still firmly set, her entire body objecting to Maggot's very presence.
"It's alright, Pala," Davien wondered even as she said the words if perhaps it might not be better to send the wretch away unanswered. "He's little harm to us. Only watch that he doesn't take from your livestock when he leaves."
Maggot's eyes narrowed briefly in a spasm of anger, but with the Tauren's reluctant permission he sidled past her and made his way up the steps to the landing. Pill had poked her nose around the corner during the exchange and was now watching his progress with a wry smirk. He stopped just outside of arm's length from Davien. She had straightened to her full height as he approached and for a moment recalled the faded glory of her former self.
With a trembling hand he held out the envelopes, and with his gaze cast down to the floor he murmured in his most respectful tones. "For the mage Stonemantle, and the one called Corspilla. Master sends word. Tells It to give into your hands directly, or It will not eat for a month."
Corspilla had slowly crept up behind her guardian and friend, and now reached past to snatch at one of the scrolls. Davien lightly caught the other as it fell, but she did not open it. She knew the words before Pill even began to read them aloud. How pompous and condescending his voice sounded as she imagined it in her mind.
"You are summoned," Pill was reading. "Thrice besieged, thrice destroyed, twice reborn. Corspilla and Stonemantle know the way. Come when the bells of Lordaeron that was strike seven."
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Jan 14, 2008 15:08:10 GMT -5
Twitch, Twitch.
Take another drink.
“Bah!” Dwarf killing had grown boring. The mage had never come out, and she really had not wanted to go charging into the fortress. Mojo had liked the bugs, but there was little to keep her occupied.
Her hands clenched absent-mindedly as she poured the concoction she had brewed up into a glass bottle and stoppered it with wax. The liquid was a bright green, but inert. She knew there was something missing, knew where to get what made it not inert, dangerous. She knew that more needed to do with it There was more to it than just adding another ingredient.
The nagging annoying little puppet master was still angry that she had figured out that part. The drinking helped keep the puppet master from pulling the strings, but it did not keep whoever, whatever it was from being there. She shook the bottle viciously, torn between throwing it and hiding it. Instead she did neither.
She stuck her head out of her shack to find that Maggot was still there. He looked pitiful in the rain, but there he had stood for hours, waiting until she had come back to her shack for who knows how long. How did that damn bossy pretentious dead man get such loyalty? “BAH! You still here?”
“Master told it to wait for the package. It waits for the mage to finish.” Only Maggot could make subservience sound so sneering superior. She should light the little annoyance of fire. Her fingers twitched with the desire, but the sounds of all her pets distracted her. That was the problem with so much drink; it made it hard to focus.
“FINE! She shoved the bottle outside. “Take the damn thing. Not like he can do anything with it. Only I can finish it, only me! You tell him I said that.” When Maggot’s hand wrapped around the vial, she drew herself back into the shack and slammed the door. It was done, she kept her word. Not like it would help him, no sir. She was the one with the answers, and the only way he was going to get them was if he got her sober. And she didn’t think he would like that, not one bit.
Twitch, Twitch.
Take another drink.
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on May 27, 2008 15:47:02 GMT -5
“Oi” She blinked as that came out of her mouth. It was fleeting, but it passed. “Darkness, what was that?” The cat jumped off her lap and went to chase something. Pill, however, was not paying attention.
That other voice had been silent for a day now. Not the quiescence of irritation that had been the gap between them, forced by her constant drinking, but an odd stretching silence. It had been so long since she had been alone in her own head, that it was rather frightening. And then.
“Bugger it all.” She had stopped drinking hours ago, wanting to play this little ploy. Rashona would make sure booze were close by if it was needed. She had learned to value her friends even more after all this. Except Kerbada, she was still angry at the bull for having vanished again.
Tipsy, Corspilla had done all the things she did normally, fight, eat, and light obnoxious trees named Verdus on fire. Still, it had not been a good time. Hard to have a good time when you have evil whispering her head.
She titled her head to one side, listening for the voice that was elusive, distant. It had been faint, but she knew that voice. So hard to think. Maybe she should ask Raga how she remembered things. The cow was drunk often enough. Maybe Bullhoof…
Dammit all! She needed to concentrate on this voice. She KNEW this voice. This could be just the answer they were all looking for. The person that they could tie everything too. And then it was gone and her still addled mind was at a loss. She was angry; she wanted something to burn.
Davien would be angry if she burned the room, plus she had a cat and a few other pets in the inn. Where was that damn tree when she needed an outlet for this fire?
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Jul 1, 2008 12:32:08 GMT -5
She normally did not ride her raptor in Thunder Bluff, but it was faster than running. True, it was a short walk from the portal opening to the inn and the room she shared with Davien, but she could barely contain herself. Her fingers twitched with the desire to light things on fire. Lighting the object of her ire had been prevented before, but she could hardly contain her frustration this time. Month and Months of trouble and insanity and now they were getting answers. She had confirmed that Davien was at the inn, practically shouted at Lin, Kaasmi and Gharr to be at the room now. All three of them had responded, if somewhat dismissively. She had no idea if they would be there. In the end they would all know. There was going to be a reckoning.
It was all she could do to keep from viciously pulling the raptor to stop. No matter how angry she was, she would not hurt one of her animals. She would not lose another one. “Stay here, ya hear?” The raptor used its stubby arms to search her spiky hair for a tasty treat. It warbled softly as she pushed away the arms and ran through the common room for the stairs.
She could not take two of them at a time, but she could run up them. “Move! MOVE!” She lit the tail of the offending Tauren on fire, cackling as it hustled out of her way. The bull glared at her but silenced as she turned and snarled at him. She cackled again and took the last few steps at top speed, running for the end of the short hallway.
She pushed the door to the room open, ignoring the way it slammed against the way. Her fingers twitched in anxiety, now that she was faced with her goal. Pill did not doubt what she knew. She fixed her gaze on Davien, quietly sitting in a chair. The slightest indulgent smile touched Davien’s face. Noxilite’s Loremistress was used to her rushing around, though it was normally about some new alchemical concoction or a new animal befriended.
This was different. This was important. “I know who has my strings!” She shouted, picturing the face of the offending soul in her mind. Fire lit the tips of her fingers as she saw his smiling face. She would burn his beard off; she would! The Light could not protect him forever.
“Who is it, sweetling?” Davien’s voice was calm, but Pill could hear the curiosity in it.
“I saw him with the skyguard, saw him, even greeted him. I was trying to be nice… trying to be pleasant. And it just came out. Bloody wanker!” She tried to take a breath, shaking with the effort of controlling herself to get this all out. “See how he’s got me talkin? Can you hear it?” Her voice raised in the urgency.
“Pill, calm down.” Davien’s hand on her wrist and Pill looked at the taller woman’s face, forcing heself to focus. “Now, who is it?”
“It’s your friend!” She spat the words out at her friend and Lore Mistress. “It’s that tosser, Bricu!”
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itanyablade
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Post by itanyablade on Jul 2, 2008 0:41:40 GMT -5
She prowled the streets of Stormwind, looking for someone to light on fire. She had slipped away from the Malkavet’s orchestrated madness. She had managed to put off the obnoxious power-hungry magus’ curiosity over the vial of fluid she had given him. Everything had been going as he planned and as she planned. It was so easy to slip away.
Pill pulled the hood of her cloak and clung to the shadows of the darkened city streets. Alarms clanged and defenders ran past her, looking for the attackers. No one paused to molest the woman cowering in rags. She was beneath their notice.
She listened to the frantic speech of the people, looking out from the windows of their shops. She had hoped to find the paladin, hoped to wring information from him and then to burn him to ashes. Unfortunately, there was no way she could ask anyone a question. Looking at the faces of the women around her, she knew that she would never past for living. Someone would notice something odd.
Distracted from her cause, she wandered the streets aimlessly, trying to think of a plan. She listened to the hushed speech coming across the goblin stones. Surely someone would notice her missing soon or she would be discovered. Pill paused, suddenly understanding that she had courted death in her desire for revenge.
That pause was all it took. A large figure rounded a corner and walked right into her. She turned to snarl at him, purely out of instinct.
“Watch where you are going, filth!” Pill turned her head up at the sound of that voice. She recognized it. Not as she had recognized Bricu’s, but as one of the voices she had heard in the presence of one of the other puppetmasters. Her hood fell away as she looked up, and the young man opened his mouth to scream.
She had not spent so much time fighting to learn nothing. She silenced him and while he tried to force a sound through magically silenced vocal cords, she turned him into a pretty pink pig. Here was the Darkness smiling on her. Answers in a pretty little package. Corspilla cackled and danced a little jig.
The pig did not want to go with her, as she led it towards a dark alley. It was only a pig; it could not stop her. She slowed him with magic and sparked at his face. He was a man again, with singed hair and burned skin. He looked angry, but he was hers.
“You will tell me. tosser.” She snarled at him. “Tell me who you are! Bloody well tell me how this was done to me.” She waved her fingers in front of his face, dancing fire across their tips. He said nothing. His face contorted with rage and his muscles bunched up as if ready to spring. “Talk, damn you!” She focused another spell at him.
It sputtered, enveloped by a shimmering darkness she could just barely see. “Little Pawn, you’ll learn nothing from me!” The man leaped to his feet and Pill could see something in his eyes that chilled her. Her spell fizzled before it could be cast and then he ran.
“No! No! NO!” She summoned arcane power and she put her outrage and her anger into the fireball. It shot from her hands in an instant and struck the man in the back. He crumpled with barely a cry, but Pill heard commotion out on the street.
“Hah! I beat you!” She looked down at the man and frowned as blood ran from his nose and mouth. “Darkness!” His back smolder from the power of her anger and her fingers clenched and unclenched quickly with sudden anxiety. She had just killed a man, someone who knew about her strings. She kicked him with a toe but there was no breath, no sound from the corpse.
“I can still find out the truth.” She told the dead man. “I know you are Micah!” She told him.
“I heard it this way!” Pill turned her face towards the source of the noise. People were coming. Would not do to be caught here, no sir. Davien would be disappointed and that damn troll would laugh. No, she would not be caught. She pulled her hood back over her head and fled down the alley. The body would distract them, yes it would, and she could escape.
She would be back though... And she would do the same to Bricu and anyone else that got in her way. She would cut these strings even if all of Stormwind had to burn.
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Post by Threnn on Jul 2, 2008 20:53:59 GMT -5
I should give her free reign with her flames, let her take the vengeance she so well deserves. Part of her worried that Pill had done it already - the mage had disappeared from her sight for a long while last night, one minute by her side as the invaders poured down Stormwind's streets, the next simply gone. When she'd returned to the main body of the fight she'd looked a little worse for wear, but her eyes were triumphant, some of the bloodlust in them satiated.
She couldn't have found Bittertongue, though. The other mage was still spitting out phrases that dripped with his accent. Everything Davien had ever read said death broke the chains of mental domination - if there was no consciousness left to pull the strings, the puppet should be freed.
The fire burned in the middle of the room she shared with Pill. The fireplace itself was six feet away; these flames sat in the center of the circular rug, conjured two inches above the floor. If she'd put her hand on the brightly-dyed wool beneath, it would feel cool. The concentration it took to control the miniature blaze calmed her, let her examine her problems and seek answers in the flames' dance.
But she hasn't always spoken this way. There was someone else before him. The saccharine one who made Rashona's hackles rise. Who could that have been? And why would they pass control to Bittertongue? He'd given Pill something to test that had started her hearing the voices. This had all started with him. He'd proclaimed his innocence in Booty Bay, when she'd nearly thrown fire at him for the change that had come over Pill.
He'd come close to walking out of the meeting when she accused him of becoming another Uthas. It had been an idle comment, a comparison she'd made because they'd both fought against the mad paladin, not taking any kind of personal aim at him. But oh, her words had struck him closer to the heart than she'd meant them to, and whatever fragile peace they'd started with came close to shattering.
Did my words truly hurt him, though, or was he coverin' because I was on t'something and didn't know it? I should've watched more closely. And now these letters were appearing, taunts from the Plaguefather himself, not long after Pill began speaking in Bittertongue's voice. What if he'd made someone else control Pill first, to throw off suspicion? Maybe he'd known his mannerisms would come through, and had feared someone recognizing his profanity-strewn Northern. As soon as Pill had come storming in and named him her tormentor, Davien had finally realized why her friend's speech had sounded so familiar. She couldn't believe it hadn't come to her sooner, but perhaps that was simply because, in a way, Pill's accent had begun to sound like her own - only more colorful. It could have been any Northerner inside her friend's head.
But... Bittertongue. Did the original voice that had made its nest inside of Pill perhaps belong to Bittertongue's wife? Davien had only talked to the blue-eyed woman once, nearly a year and a half ago in Winterspring. They hadn't exchanged any memorable words, certainly not enough for Davien to accuse her of being the voice behind the slickly sweet Corspilla.
It's the shortest distance between all the points.
And yet.
And yet the why of it didn't make any sense. It just didn't seem like something Bittertongue would do. He was a schemer; she knew that much. The complexity it would take to pull something like this off was perfectly within his capacity. But she couldn't see what the point of it would be. It didn't seem right, and that was all she had.
"Y've been a shite judge o'character thus far, Stonemantle," she chastised herself. "He's likely precisely the rotten bastard Pill says he is, only y've just been listenin' to y'r soft bloody heart again."
"Oi!" came Pill's voice from the other side of the door. "You there, Davien? My bloody arms are full."
Davien stood and reached out to the fire hanging above the floor. Flames licked up her hands and along her wrists, settling into her skin before they faded away. She pulled the door open for her friend. Both women winced as the hinges gave out a screech.
"I keep askin' that wanker downstairs to oil that, but he's a lazy toss -- Davien, I hate this!" Pill dropped the sacks of supplies on the floor and turned to face Davien. She'd found new bindings to cover eyes, but Davien knew what ruined holes were beneath the leather straps. Pill had torn out her own eyes trying to drive the Lich King's whispers out of her mind. She'd taken to pickling herself with bourbon to keep her own thoughts dominant over the saccharine woman's. What harm would she do to rid herself of Bittertongue?
"Enough, sweetling," she said, and reached for her keen-edged blade. "Get y'r cloak and pull up the hood. We're goin' back t'Stormwind, just you and I."
Pill cackled.
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