World of Warcraft™

On an island near Howling Fjord, stood a black crumbled castle. Inside the ruined thrown room, the seat covered in snow, stood a Female Vrykul. She carried many runes and items that showed that she was a Spiritualist and a strong rune caster, she and the rest of her clan agreed to help Krystala to unlock the relic in exchange of power. She sighed, she had been waiting here for hours since Krystala sent her a message of her arrival, which was said she would arrive in around 3 hours.

She waited 5....and counting. Her name was Krishma.

She threw up her hands and was about to walk out the door until she saw it was thrown open. She blinked as she saw a small figure enter the room with a eerie purple glowing relic in her hand. Krishma smiled "Krystala, it's good to see your back in o---wait...you look different..". Krystala turned towards the woman with a gentle smile. The child looking woman looked the same...besides the fact that there were now black tiger like marks on certain spots of her face and arms "Do I? Ah, yes, well, this is the effects of the relic...nothing to be worried about, it's just from the oath.

She walked over to the thrown and swipe a hand over it. The snow suddenly was thrown aside onto the floor before Krystala sat in it. She reached over for a leaver and pulled it, causing the opening in the roof which was the cause for her snow covered thrown to close up. Krishma quickly lit the torches with ease using a fire rune before walking closer to inspect the relic. Krystala cradled it in her arms like a new born child "Amazing...isn't it....and soon...all of it's secrets will be ours...." the Priestess looked up at the large woman "Do you remember that armor I asked to be made?"

Krishma stared blankly at the girl for a moment before shaking her head "OH, that armor. Yes, it's ready, why do you ask?" she asked in a calm and relaxed tone, which was usual for her. Krystala nodded "Bring it....it's time to take things up a notch..I'm going to Sholazar Basin in a week or so...mean while...I need to put this somewhere no one will find it but you and I...and I must put wards upon it to stop it from getting stolen" She got up and walked to the door from which she came in "Have my armor ready for me when I return". Krishma watched her go with a smirk on her face "As you wish, Krystala"

-----------------------------------------------
Perfection

In the beautiful forests of Teldrassil, there was a large house near a stream. Light seeped through the window into a room where the Assassin, Perfection Lionsheart, slept. She sighed happily as she snuggled into the pillows of her bed, having happy dreams.....which was about to come to a abrupt end. The door of her room was gently thrown open, in the doorway stood a tall Kal'dorei male, the girls Shan'do, Dareth Shadowstar.

The Kal'dorei walked over and poked her in the ribs "Come one, up and at 'em!"he called. Perfection groaned "I don't wanna get up....five more minutes?". Dareth chuckled before pulling the covers off the girl and sitting on the bed before he began to tug at her long black hair "Come on, Elisa made breakfast, plus, you have been given and assignment" he said, but Perfection refused to budge "I have been given a lot of assignments...I don't care..." she said into her pillow, which made it muffled.

The Kal'dorei sighed "Allright...just to let you know though...a new relic has been discovered..who ever uses it can control every shadow in all of Azeroth. And if your a rogue...you can become the greatest Assassin ever..." he smirked in triumph as he heard the girl leap out of bed and walk passed him while doing up her hair into her usual pony tail "I'm up" She said as she walked passed. Still in her cloth shirt and pants, she sat at the table and began to shovel her food into her mouth.

Elisa, Dareth's sister, watched with amusement before looking back at her brother "I guess you told her?". Dareth walked in and sat across from the girl "Yup

((1/2))

Of course......that was all this morning.

In actual time, Perfection and Dareth already arrived at the temple where the relic -used- to be. Perfection prodded on of the dead high ranking guards with slight disgust "His internal organs feel like mush....who ever did this must have had a weapon that does internal damage..not external." she observed rather well, thanks to Dareth's training, of course. Dareth nodded before one of the 20 guards who came here at the news about the protector's being slaughtered tapped him on the shoulder.

Dareth turned and regarded the man curiously "What is it?". The guard saluted before saying "It seems the Field Marshal is still alive, but he keeps going in and out of conscience. We also sent word to those who are willing to hunt down the relic to come here...when are you going to lead the group?". Dareth chuckled and shook his head "I'm not leading the group....my student is" he nodded his head towards Perfection who looked up with a blank expression on her face as she looked at the two of them "What?"
<^>

The guard had lead them to the Field Marshal, who reached out to them as he saw them coming. Perfection knelt down and looked at the man before muttering "What happened here?". Marshal Goldmane licked his lips, his eyelids fluttering, his mouth moving but with no words coming out. This frustrated Perfection slightly, but kept the anger in before repeating her question "Marshal...What.Happened?". At last, the Marshal spoke "Beware....the Elven...Witch..."

Those words made Perfection's stomach churn.

Kal'tharon

Kal'tharon....the last of his family...the survivor...that is who he was.

A high ranking Blood Knight of Silvermoon, he sat in Orgimmar, waiting for anyone who was willing to help him recover the Relic of a Thousand Shadows for the Horde. That wasn't the only thing though, there was something else. Something.Much.More.Sinister.

Five days ago, In Silvermoon

Kal'tharon sat and listened to one of the Rogues who was sent on the scouting mission to try and steal the Relic. They had mugs of ale in there hand and a bowl plates of steaming food that was ordered as they talked about the war, and the Relic in general. Kal'tharon took a sip of his ale and placed the mug down on the counter "So, how close do you think we might be in capturing the Relic for the Horde?" he asked, looking at the rogue.

The other man sighed "Well....we -were- getting close...but they it was stolen". Kal looked baffled "Stolen?"he asked. The Rogue nodded "Yup, some strange kid came, killed the Alliance, made the Oath, took the relic and....bamn, gone. We went to check out the aftermath and found a human muttering something about...and Elven Witch?"

Kal leaned over at the mention of -Elven Witch- "Did he say a name?" he asked curiously. The Rogue looked around to check that no one was eve's dropping on their conversation before leaning over and murmuring "He said her name was Krystala Dawnshadow..."

Dawnshadow.....Kal knew it was her, his younger sister.

He swore under his breath, he knew something like this was going to show at some point, and now here he was, assembling a group to go and try to capture the relic for the Horde...and with it...possibly get revenge on the woman who killed his family. He was not going to hold back, he was not going to give up.

Not until he made that girl pay.

Shinaria

Shinaria Sunblaze, the Holy Jailor. She sat in a tavern at Booty Bay after sending out the call for anyone who had a mind set to come join her in destroying the Relic of a Thousand Shadows. In her lap, was a book that she had found containing all the information about the Relic. She had to admit, it was not and easy thing to get, and she spent a good one thousand gold coins just so she could get her hands on the book.

She threw her legs up on the table and sighed, with the news of the relic spreading through out Azeroth, she knew she had to do something to stop it from falling into the hands of anything more evil than the ones that they were already in. The name Krystala Dawnshadow was not unfamiliar to her, she remembered confronting the girl once while she was in a library looking for a certain book.

She a small talk with the woman for a at least an hour, which suprised her, but when she had turned away for a moment, the girl had quickly vanished. And now, aftering learning the girls plot, she looked to destroy the relic, and bring the girl to justice. Shinaria pulled out her pocket watch and looked at it to check the time "They should be arriving soon..." she murmured before sliping the watch back into her bag and waiting.

((2/2, BEGIN))

Shaule looked around the the port, it smelled like rotten fish, smoke and dirty Goblins. Booty Bay. When she heard that there was some one in Booty Bay also seeking to destroy the Relic, she decided she would come here. She hoped it was true and not just a scam by some Goblin trying to get a few coins.

When Shaule walked in the filthy tavern she knew at once she should've looked for the Relic herself. But there was no turning back now, if the call was legit, she did'nt know how much information the caller had, but she was sure she did'nt have the imperative knowledge refering to the Relic that Shaule had.

As she opproached the Priest, her stomach lurched when she saw the tome she was holding. She had been looking for that book for two hundred years, she wondered how the woman had found it

(( I sort of lost sight of the... actual thread in writing this, so relevance might seem... tacked on. But hell, it's an OP, so what does it matter? I had endless fun writing this, so here it is... ))

“Art; human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature,” returned the snide words of a being whose voice churned with the gravel of death, and an even darker tone that could only be managed through malevolent means of self sacrifice. The thick black-pine tree trunks reaching up at the midnight black star-dotted sky cradled the cold wind in their spindly branches. This wind licked and lingered throughout the dark forest, echoing his words in a whisper, as if the very air was aware of and coexisted with him.

“Hmph,” sounded a second voice, one much more feminine with an ingrained echo as if the voice was repeated and played over itself in a slightly lighter tone. Both tones, and several more intertwined in the single voice created a dark symphony of emotion that bled from the rotten lips of the speaker with every word, overflowing and dripping with such thick power and passion that even such a simple expression of sound coalesced into a powerful flux of majesty.

“Hmph?” repeated the voice of barbaric simplicity when played against the words of the dark majestic being above.

“Yes, hmph,” came the twisted sing-song once more, “I disagree. I have always associated art directly with beauty, as art is the pursuit of conceptualizing and/or producing and creating images, sound, forms, movements or any elements of life and unlife into a form that is pleasant, into a form that invokes and creates beauty.”

“Oh?” the playful voice from below returned, “And this isn't beautiful?”

“No, beauty is relative,” the voice spoke again, seeming to regard nothing of the inky black forest about her, and only focus on the being ahead of her. In the midst of the infinite blackness, this figure was calm and collected, and intent upon communing the true nature of art to a dirty, battered talking corpse that was shuffling through a grave. “Beauty is relative, and thus art cannot be defined as beauty cannot be ultimately defined.”

“Poppycock,” the voice returned in a humour so blatant it brought the slightest cringe upon the featureless mask of death that the feminine being wore so eternally. “In your understanding of the concept, everything is art, or nothing is art. You cannot be both nothing and everything, and in this case it is something, so that brings all sorts of things into the situation that cannot be defined, leaving you with endless nothingness, of where everything is nothing.”

“Very funny Molvanz,” the female corpse returned, drawing back her blackened hood and letting the small slivers of glow from the moon above bathe her bleach white skull with their magical nature. Her black eyes found no light, no matter how much would shine, there was just darkness and emptiness, some kind of lost hopelessness in their depths. A small nose slit with a similar darkness furthered the notion that inside her head was not indeed empty, but in addition contained absolute nothing.

“I am very funny,” he chuckled, hoisting himself out of the grave and pulling behind him his haul of bones, scavenged from the no longer needing owners well beneath the ground. As he emerged from the death tainted pit in the dirt, and juxtaposed himself next to the other figure, their differences were as exposed as obviously as their nefarious deed of grave-robbing, to the soulless trees watching from around them. They were both corpses of an entirely different nature and state.

The first, Molvanz, was cracked and dirty and with a grin on his face the likes of which you would never expect from a dead being. If age showed in death, it clearly showed on the being which stood at the edge of the grave now. His back was hunched and his robe torn at every stretch, frayed strings spindling outwards and either caught on the remnants of his body or dangling in the still air breeze of Tirisfal Glades.

The very darkness around him seemed to breathe in and out alongside him, being absorbed and expelled like air from the lungs of the living. It was part of him, and the horrors within his mind were refuge to their dark powers. This contrasted to the being next to the warlock, as the very shadows in the air shirked from the bleach-white woman, almost as if they feared her very presence and sought not to be absorbed and stored in her vast reserves of shadow energy.

((1/3))

This second being was Virella, known to most by mere rumor as The Black Rose, a title bestowed and spread by her close acquaintances and self being. Her clothes were not frayed and weak, they were unworn and delicate, just as her body was unscathed by the wears and tears of age. She was a prime specimen of stability, as it seemed her very bone, essence and being, was pure and untouched. Yet she did not appear young, her very gaze lacked any emotion but her stance and lack of care towards menial things like surroundings suggested she had the experience to endure life's little obstacles and trivialities.

“Rose?” inquired the now ever more imposing face of the male warlock, which was half rotten to the bone, the other half still dangling with what small remains of flesh the being had.

“I find your entertainment inefficient,” she spoke in a voice as monotonous as the stale air crawling from the maw of the maggot infested warlock two steps beyond her, “Your efforts would be more ideal put to the use in which they were requested.”

“Come on Rose,” the male sighed, “You're sounding like a robot each passing day, remember it is your emotions that differ you from -them-. Now, tell me you don't find this funny?” The dilapidated corpse had hoisted half of another corpse up to his body, and had manipulated its remains via necromancy to a position that could be deemed sexually inappropriate to any race with such reservations towards topics of maturity.

“Trust me Molvanz,” she played along her boney mouth, “If I still possessed the ability to find amusement from your crude sense of humour, your joke would be further ruined for I would take offense at your tactless use of the female form and blatant sexually insulting employment of corpse desecration. Now cease your futile attempts to unlock and uncover the emotionally unstable more -living- preferred state of my being,” -and the only emotion revealed thus since the beginning of their forest expedition reared its ugly head in the form of annoyance-, “I will not return to that woman, I will not embrace ignorance again, now return to the mission at hand.”

Both figures stared off for a long moment, unerring black pits of nothingness peering into the cold hard, black -but of an evil, magical blackness rather than one of emptiness- orbs of darkness. Molvanz was of course, the one to drop his gaze first, as he had not the mental willpower to stare at a being of pure nothingness for too long, as despair started to claw up the insides of his rotten torso, a torso that had not experienced such a feeling in some time.

“I will not stop Rose,” he spoke, with a seriousness that rarely ever, -and that was not an overstatement-, showed itself in the uncaring warlocks features. “I will never cease my attempts, for I will never let you lose your soul. The only thing that separates you from them is your ability to feel emotion, I will not let you become an automaton. You have the most dark and beautiful, and vibrant soul in existence, or at least you once did. I shall free it.”

Virella, or Rose as she was being named, dropped her eyes into a hard stare, unable to easily manipulate her actual facial structure however her emotions were projected with utmost clarity. She was not pleased with that comment. The other however would no longer meet her gaze, and she stared forward into the side of his skull for what seemed like the rest of the night, but was in actuality mere seconds.

“Molvanz, speak no more of the matter,” she asked, not demanded, as her tone was clearly a mix of impatience and some form of emotional wounding, she had not the strength to enforce her request.

((2/3))

“You -can- feel it, I know,” he stepped forward, his eyes tracing all over her like a merchant his or her wares, but also with some deep reverence like a scholar traces over historical runes. “Such a fair body, such a fair soul. You can still feel the blue, the red, the colours bleeding through your once corporeal veins. You still feel the hate, the sadness,” and his hand braved its way to hers and clutched it with an unholy determination, “... and the love.”

“No!” she snapped, lunging forward and gripping the chin, the face, of the other Forsaken with a skeletal hand full of unnaturally lithe fingers and staring her hellgaze through his eyes and into his soul, “I. Feel. Nothing.” Her words hooked into the air and hung there with an unavoidable presence. “I feel no love, I feel nothing. I understand nothing but the efficiency of power and the thirst for knowledge.”

“I don't believe you,” and even the trees themselves stood tentatively back as the tense scene played itself out. “I don't, and I won't. You cannot lie to me, -Virella-,” and only to those two Forsaken would the true gravity of Molvanz speaking her true name, be of meaning to. “You feel it, it's still within you. Look into my eyes and I will stare into the abyss of yours, there is still something in there, flickers of love and emotion, I can feel it, don't lie to me!”

Another stand of, and this time the victor was He. Rose, or Virella as she was now admitted to be, turned from Molvanz and stalked off into the forest. “I need the necromantic power by morning, I have located the trail of the important relic. I care not for the opposition, I will have such an artifact before it falls in the hands of any other, or any other manages to unlock the possibility of such a device.”

There was little point in saying anything further, Molvanz just stared once more up into the starry sky of Tirisfal Glades, before dropping his vision once more to the figure who even shadows parted for, and watched her slip away, further, and further away. “My heart no longer beats either,” he whispered into the night, “But I keep it, I have not and never will cast it away Virella, sometimes we must play the facade of flesh, for it is all that keeps us.”

...And despite the distance, Virella heard him... and walked on.

((3/3))

((Well, I was going on a campout...but it turned out that I missed it and no idea where my friend's have gone, weren't there at the meeting spot...so I guess I get to enjoy my weekend by myself and the good ol' forums))

The Shadow beckons...With the Light and the Sun...there is only discovery and death, vulnerability...The Shadow of the night is all that holds me...loves me...houses me...gives me life. It is the Shadow, that lets me live...

Shade was darting from shadow to shadow throughout Tirisfal, using the dark setting of the land to his advantage...even day time seemed like night in this forsaken and diseased land, making it perfect for his kind to jump about without fear of the Sun's harmful rays.

He remembered when he was like the others, being of skin and bone, able to walk about the day without much weakness...pain...fear...but now the Sun was his mortal enemy, the bane of his new life...as is the Sun to all shadows, both 'alive' and not so.

His yellow eyes beamed out from the shadows as he neared the Silverpine Forest. He, not so long ago, felt...something...and he knew it was the Shadow. But it was something unlike he had ever felt before. He had a curiosity with this and went to the Undercity library and, since he was revered among his people for his new status, he had no problems in there and was able to use some old books...especially on the topic of the Shadow.

Before, Shade was a Forsaken priest, much like any other...in life, he might have been a priest as well, he didn't know...but where the Holy Light had forsaken him, the Forgotten Shadow had embraced him...and seeing his unwavering loyalty to it, the Shadow bestowed him his reward.

His was a living shadow, the perfect example of what the Shadow Priests revere as their High Priests and clergy leaders...but Shade was no longer interested in that...He was still a loyal servant of the Shadow, but he had other goals in mind that the Shadow had graced him to complete.

Within the library, he had found an old text that looked moderately ancient, and it had told tales of a certain artifact of the Shadow itself. And one who had used the Shadow...can use it. But, there was a thing called a 'Blood Oath'...and Shade was worried about not having any flesh to give...but what of his essence? Could he separate a bit of himself to gain the power? Or could he sacrifice people to be able to claim it for himself? Only time would tell, he would think of something.

But the text never told where to find it...and he had heard the rumors that the Alliance had found a piece, and then it was stolen...bandits they say. Bah! He knew better...no common bandits could of been able to withstand this type power...no, something far darker was at work...and he was looking to collect before this other figure had them all.

To return to the Cult...I need to be a fully realized Ascendant! I am weak...a whelp...I need more power! I need to harness my full potential! And this relic will give me what I need...Surely the Shadow will grace my endeavor, and give me guidance.

He had a plan to help him out discover the location of the relic pieces. Granted, he wasn't powerful enough to jump into a shadow and teleport to another shadow on the other side of Azeroth, but he was quick if he jumped from one shadow to another...and that was what he would do. He would spend the days thinking and planning, and the nights traveling.

He would scour all of the Eastern Kingdoms...then to Kalimdor...then to Northrend...and even go to the Outlands if he had to! He was going to find this relic, and kill all others who would get into his way! Unless...he would find a use for them...

He had fair senses when it came to detecting things that had strong connections to the Shadow, no matter how rusty and new they were...he imagined he would be able to sense something as powerful as this 'Relic of a Thousand Shadows'. Once he started to see the dead trees of Silverpine and jumped into the first shadow he had taken outside of the safety of Tirisfal...he knew that his sights were straight for the top...

((Kinda assuming it is sorta night...or around twilight hours...seeming as how I don't recall seeing any specifics about the time of day and Shade is more effective at moving around during night time or close to it...hope that's cool?))

Sammuroth sighed as he watched the young druids in training, he had been asked to oversee their combat training for the day, and though he enjoyed watching new druids blossom he was not much of a teacher. Not like his Shan'do Malfurion Stormrage anyway, also his form generally made some druids look down on him, one young one made a mistake and ended up causing thorns to sprout into his body. "No no no, you need to focus losing that focus will cause things like this," he saw the condescending look the child gave him and smiled, "do not take my lack of ability to perorm the spells in this form as reason to disregard my advice." He walked over to the child, "Concentrate on the nature around you, the wind, the grass, the trees, and calm your mind then try again," the child nodded and closed his eyes when he opened them he chanted the spell and thorns sprouted out of his body, those thorns would harm any enemy that may attack him.

Sammuroth nodded and smiled, "Well done, if you find yourself having trouble calm your mind by focusing on nature remember that is where all druids draw their power." The child was excited that he had finally done it smiled at the druid, "Thank you Master Sammuroth," Sammuroth nodded again and went back to watching over the students. Not long after the lesson was interupted, a very unexpected guest, a stormcrow landed right in the middle of the students, Sammuroth recognized that particular stormcrow and smiled. "Shan'do it is good to see you," the stormcrow began to revert to his natural form of Malfurion Stormrage, the most powerful druid in history, he was barely recognizable now, he looked more animal now than Night Elf. "What brings you here Shan'do," he asked, "dire business I am afraid, my friend, I have received a message from Stormwind and it speaks of a very dangerous artifact that has recntly been discovered, The Relic of a Thousand Shadows."

The name did not sound familiar to Sammuroth, "What makes this relic so dangerous," Malfurion looked extremely worried as he spoke, "this relic allows whoever wields it to control every shadow, and shadow magic in all of Azeroth." Sammuroth's eyes opened wide, he had been alive long enough to know what kind of power the shadows held, such power in the wrong hands could level cities and destroy armies.


(1/2)

Malfurion continued, "The letter also said that the artifact has been stolen from Alliance hands, the guards left to protect it slaughtered, Varian has asked the we dispatch someone to lead a team to recover the relic for the Alliance." Sammuroth looked at his Shan'do, "And you want to send me," Malfurion smiled and laughed, "no my friend we dispatched someone else, but I do want you to go after this relic as a member of the Cenarion Circle, we cannot allow either the horde or Alliance to possess the relic and we must not allow whoever stole it to unlock it's powers." Sammuroth nodded, "So what you want me to bring the relic back here so we can protect it," Malfurion shrugged, "yes and no, return the relic to Moonglade if you can if not I want you to destroy it."

Sammuroth nodded he wouldn't turn down a request from his Shan'do, "Is there any information as to who stole it," Malfurion's face grew grave, "the only survivor repeated only two words as to who stole it, "Elven Witch," Sammuroth sighed, "Great another elf who is after nothing but power, where should I start?" Malfurion thought for a moment then replied, "I have heard there is someone in Ratchet who is trying to destroy the relic also, perhaps you should join up with this person and work together." Sammuroth nodded, "I will leave immediately Shan'do," Malfurion nodded, "thank you my friend and good luck."

That conversation had been one day ago and now Sammuroth walked through the streets of Ratchet, toward a particular tavern. Sammuroth didn't like such places, but this is where his information had led him to find the person he was looking for. Not wanting to draw attention to himself he faded into the shadows and slinked through the door after someone else opened it, he looked around the tavern and saw two particular elves sharing a table. Great, Malfurion didn't tell me the people looking to destroy the relic were female, this is going to be difficult, he slinked over to the table still stealthed and whispered, "Are you the one who is trying to destroy this Relic of a Thousand Shadows?" Sammuroth waited for her response before he would reveal himself.


(2/2)

Ku'urazai
Stormwind City.
The death knight drew her blade and gave a brief sigh, bringing her offhand into a fist of frost and allowing its energy to permeate through her. with that whe leapt up and attacked her enemy. The training dummy stood no chance against the cold saronite blade and instantly snapped in half. Its dozen or so comrades soon fell in after. The death knight then leapt towards the final dummy, a heavily armored humanoid figure complete with a steel shield.
This did almost nothing to phase her, as her forceful blow cut stright through the shield and left a mortally large rend in the dummy, to Ku'urazai's satisfaction.

Jalisa
"Quite the swordsmanship there. I'd be scared as hell to take on one of the most skilled blades on Azeroth," she joked to her friend in the training field. "Oh I wish I could claim that tutle but alas, I am far too humble and timid to be that pretentious," the death knight replied. Thr mage's expression soon diminished its cheerful tone rather quickly after that dialogue. "Oh, now to the main point, I was told to deliver you..." she began as she rummaged her pockets to pull out an envelope. "This," she finished.

It had been a relatively normal day for the mage when all of a sudden everything changed.

Morgan had been casting some regular protective spells when all off her magic just seemed to cut of for a moment. She felt pain inflicted on her, though no one was around. Morg realized she was in the midst of a magical backlash. And this one was very powerful. What ever caused it must be very powerful and very dangerous.

The backlash faded, and Morg blinked a couple times. She had to find out whatever had caused this backlash. But in her heart of hearts, Morgan knew what it was. She had been hearing rumors about a relic, the Relic of a Thousand Shadows, that the Alliance had captured. She was disgusted that they had actually took it. But she knew that the Alliance had not made it give off this backlash. Shge felt it was very dark, and the Alliance did not trust their warlocks. Shadow priests were not as didstrusted, but she knew the Alliance would not show them this relic.

Morgan decided instantly that this relic must be destroyed. Neither faction deserved it, and both would try to use it to destroy the other. The Relic of a Thousand Shadows had to be dangerous. Yes, it must be destroyed. But where would she find it?

Morg began to create a portal, which she would close once she reached the other side. One of the neutral cities would probably have some information regarding its wherabouts. She just needed the right tool for the job. And her magic and dagger would surely work where her money would not. She decided to start with Ratchet. She wasn't sure why, but she had a good feeling about that place.

(1/2)

Calvic was inside the undercity archives researching a large quantity of books. Each one were riddled with legends of ancient beasts and artifacts. His ghoul scurried around getting more books for him was litteraly losing his feet, the flesh almost falling off. Where Calvic was there was a desk with papers scattered all around him. Notes, decoders, maps, torn pages. The undercity archives were like a honey hole of legends to be discovered. His eyes grew weary of the days of study he had been conducting. Right now he was looking at a legend in uldum, said to be the most riches any person on azeroth could desire. But the catch was to find it you would have to find five pieces of a key to make a map. Then go towards a sacred shrine where a light would shine through the wall and pinpoint where it was. Sadly, he had no leads.

The forsaken leaned back in his chair and pulled out a cigar from a drawer. Taking a few puffs he exhaled and sighed. "I might be immortal, but this.....just takes a long time. Good thing i have patience.....wait....i have to if i live forever. Dam...." His ghoul came scratching its way towards him with no feet. But a piece of paper was in its hands. Calvic looked over and snatched it out of the rotting hand and studied it. "Blah blah blah....warchief commands.....expects no failure....relic of shadow....important mission...." He paused him self and reread the paragraph of the relic of shadow. "Hello.......my little precious."

It had so happened that the relic of shadow was a closed case of Calvics. Since he had never found any leads to it after three years of searching he gave up. But now he had a group to find it with. "Gravelwrecker!" He yelled at his ghoul. He had forgotten the ghouls feet were gone. "GET OVER HERE!" A few scrabbles and grunts the ghoul was beside his chair laying on the floor. He slapped his face with his hand. "Why did i have to pick you....come here." He went over and grabbed the ghouls feet and went back to his drawer with some thread. Sewing the ghouls feet back on it grunted with appreciation. "Now...the paper said to go to....Orgimar......o god....."

One day back in orgimar he had been a messenger for sylvanas about an artifact that would greatly help the horde. Supposedly the alliance didnt know about it. It enhanced the size and strength capabilities by 20x making them near indestructible in combat. However, when they went to find it, four out of fifteen men had made it back with nothing but dust in there hands. It had turned out the artifact did exists.....but it had turned to dust. The warcheif had been infuriated with calvic and came close to cleaving his head off if he didnt get out in time.

"Well.....i suppose we have to go back. Just have to stray clear of his throne room." His body shivered a little at the memory of what had happened. Walking out of the forsaken archives he headed to the bathandler. "I'll be needing my wyrven for a travel to orgimar." "Why would you want to fly on it? Couldnt you just take the zepplin." Calvic covered his face with his hand. "I wouldnt trust one of those goblin tin cans worth my third life." The bat handler shrugged a little and leaded him to where his wyrven was. Calvic mounted it and flipped a coin at the bat handler. "Thanks." He took off out of the undercity flight tunnels and headed to orgimar.

One day later

After landing in orgimar and setting his wyrven with the flightmaster he strolled over to the platforms and went down it. When he got off of it and was walking the streets of org he felt uncomfortable. Dam orcs....ive never liked them in the first place. Big green muscled imbeciles... His ghoul trekked behind him with the occasional grunt or snort. Slowly but surely he got to wyvrens tail tavern. Walking in he looked for the man that was supposed to inform them about the mission.

Morgan stepped into Ratchet. Closing the portal behind her quickly, she could already smell the scents of a port. The air was thick, and Morg was ready to leave again already. But she needed the information. She could not go hunting the Relic of a Thousand Shadows with out it. So, fdeciding mounting her horse would make her stand out, she walked around. Where would she start? The taverns she knew would be best to start with, but there were a few around. Morgan decided she'd just go to each one until she got the information.

The first one was so full she barely got her two feet in the door. The second one had only a few people inside, but no one knew anything about the relic, and her attempts were fruitless.

The third tavern she entered was much more promising. There were plenty of people inside, but it was not crowded. She looked around the room. She spotted a pair of elves. They might have some information, she thought.

Casually, the mage walked towards them and sat down beside them. Normally Morg was distant from other people, but what had to be done had to be done. She spoke quietly. "My name is Morgan le Fay. Or you can call me Morg. I'm looking for information about the Relic of a Thousand Shadows and it's wherabouts. I wish to destroy it."

Revealing what her objective was was risky, but Morg had to show them how important the information was to the mage. They would not tell her if they believed it to be casual conversation.

(2/2)

The Cantrips and Crows was an...interesting location in Dalaran, the inn and tavern were built for the residents of the Underbelly and the less than lawful characters that came to the mystical city, most residents know better than to stay at the inn, "The ale tastes like sewer water...probably because that all that's down here most days." one citizen commented "But it's the patrons you've got ta watch fer, nasty lot the whole of 'em. First they'll offer ya' a drink next thing ya know what little coin ya got is gone, and ya don't notice 'til yer home."

It was in this tavern that a blood elf sat her bright red hair fell down across her shoulders, a steaming cup of tea was placed next to a freshly prepared Nettlefish fillet, she smiled, her favorite meal was ready to eat. "Still can't handle spirits Sunshine?" the Elf turned, her fork still in her mouth, to see a blood elf male, his tall muscular frame mildly disguised by his leather armor, a wide grin was present on his face, the female matched the grin taking the fork out of her mouth "Still only carrying fifty silvers in your pockets Tamlen? I thought you got paid more than that." Tamlen's grin widened "I see your skills have improved." she continued to grin tossing a bag of coins in the air "You could say that." Tamlen's expression darkened he held out his hand "Daedhel give me my money back." He spoke firmly his grin gone. Daedhel rolled her eyes "Now whose the uptight one, you can have it back jeez." She tossed the bag to Tamlen who caught it and returned it to his pocket.

"Now." Daedhel began turning back to her cooling meal "I take it you aren't here to make jokes, and turn all angry and uptight when I try to have some fun now are you?" Tamlen moved to the chair opposite Daedhel and sat down "Correct, we've had some interest developments come up." He glanced around the empty tavern before continuing "An Ancient relic has been found in Deadwind Pass, the Relic of a Thousand Shadows, legend says..." "And this interests me how?" Daedhel interrupted, Tamlen shot her a glare "Let me finish. Legend says the person who controls it will have unimaginable power, but it will only work for a person who uses the Shadows, including us rogues. Now this relic was found by the Alliance, but no sooner did they get their hands on it than it was stolen right out from under them, according to my sources someone codenamed 'the Elven Witch' came in tore the guards to peices, from the inside out apparently and took off to some unknown location."

Daedhel tilted her head slightly "And where do I come in to this?" she asked evidently losing interest is another Alliance failure. Tamlen sighed "I'm getting to that. Now the Horde has learned of the Relics discovery and of it's removal form Alliance hands. Now they'll most likely be killing each other over this thing and this power struggle holds an opportunity." He smiled "If someone were to acquire this relic and that someone were to use it to keep it away from both factions..." Daedhel smirked "And the person who aided this someone with the information only requires a small finders fee once the relic has been acquired.” Tamlen grinned “I was thinking before.” Daedhel shrugged, reached into her satchel and pulled out a handful of gold coins “If your information in false I'll be back to take that gold, with interest.” Tamlen's grin widened “Of course, it's understandable. And there's one more thing apparently people are saying it'll be impossible to steal from this Elven Witch, especially now that she has the relic.” This statement caused Daedhel's eyes to light up, she rose from the table “You always now how to get me motivated. Alright I'll take the job, and while I'm out look for a fence, or find a potential buyer.” Tamlen raised and eyebrow “You don't plan on keeping it?” “I never said that, but I want options if this thing is too hot.” “Alright I'll do some looking for you. And Dae...May Lady Luck be on your side.” Dae grinned “Since when is she ever not?” With that she turned and left the Tavern making her way topside.

Dae stood at the flight platform at the edge of Dalaran She let out a shrill whistle and waited. A red and silver dragonhawk flew up in front of her, and hovered low to the ground it's wings flapping gently to keep it aloft “We're going to Booty Bay, it's the closest location I can get to.” She spoke as she climbed into the saddle, without waiting for her to snap the reigns the dragonhawk rose in the air took off towards Dragonblight. Dae reached into her satchel and pulled out a small scroll, unrolling it she began to chant the incantation present on the scroll. The scroll glowed for a moment and began to disintegrate into a blue powder, this powder, instead of blowing away with the wind began to circle the dragonhawk, glowing brighter and brighter, until with a flash the dragonhawk and it's rider were gone.

Ku'urazai
Relic Site.
The death knight came upon the site with a small army of Stormwind soldiers and her mage friend in toe. The massacred remains of several of the guards caused her to leap down and draw her blade, only to resheathe it upon noting no combatants were near. "Figures someone would come here to steal the relic away... Probably some horde scum..." she muttered to her caravan. She was about to resummon her etherial deathcharger when she suddenly stopped and swung around, leaping up and pointing her blade at a seemingly unimportant area in the dark pass. "Come out of the shadows coward!" she yelled, only for a figure to unthreateningly and fearlessly come forward.

Fordred
"Whoa, ease up there honey, I didn't come here to have a spar with you," said the rogue as he emerged to reveal himself. He came upon the group and looked at them. "What's with all these people? You honestly think you'll catch whatever ran off with the relic lugging around this massive army?" he inquired to Ku'urazai. He looked back down at the massacred guards and addressed Ku'urazai. "Send them home, Stormwind doesn't need to throw away hundreds of lives where only a couple will do," he said.

Shade was weary of Silverpine...ever since his resurrection, he never left Tirisfal, working his trade as a priest for the Forsaken in the Undercity, and contenting himself as such till his transformation begun. His nervousness of this place was so great, he never jumped out of the first shadow...still a few inches away from the Tirisfal border.

He was trying to plan things out of what he knew of the place, with the Worgen problems and such, before he saw two figures coming down the road. He blinked his yellow eyes as he used his new found ability to stealth, becoming completely invisible in the shadow of the tree near the road.

He eyed the two forms...undead being like him, he could tell...and they had the mark of the Banshee Queen about them...not that of the Lich King. So they were Forsaken, or at least free thinking Undead...so they weren't all that bad right from the get go, he supposed.

But, he could sense the Shadow strongly on them...and that worried him a bit. That meant they could of felt the backlash of Shadow magic that the Relic had made. And that wouldn't be good...but, he eyed their shadows...the perfect transports. As long as he stayed within the shadows, he could survive the sunlight...and moving shadows could allow him to move and be safe!

He juggled the idea of letting them see him, but he figured they would sense him soon enough...if they had felt he backlash, then they would feel him. If not, then he supposed he could introduce himself if they just right on by...showing they either didn't know he was there or didn't care.

Either way, though he didn't like to admit it...these two was more than likely his best choice of finding the Relic...and a possible easy means of sacrifice should he find the pieces, if his very essence wasn't sufficient enough to satisfy the pieces' Blood Oath. And, who knew...maybe they would have the whereabouts of the Relic pieces already known? Unlikely, but possible...

It was risky enough to out, even in twilight hours. Where Tirisfal was nearly night all the time, Silverpine was a little bit different, less clouds clogging the sun. So he was sorta stuck in the shadow he was in...maybe a voice projection could work? He had decided he much rather not wait to see if they acknowledged him or not, or if they found him worthy of attention or something to ignore...no, they were already far too important for his mission for him to give them up for a risk.

Since he didn't have vocal chords or a mouth, his words were all mental transmissions that people could perceive to hear...though it would sound hallow and void of any particular emotion, unless the emotion he felt was powerful...such as hatred, confusion, anger, or curiosity. At this point, it wasn't anything but a hallowed, echoing voice.

"Ho there, travelers...The Shadow hangs about you like thick clouds...I just couldn't help but marvel at such..."

His yellow eyes then peaked from the shadows, as well as a little from his form. But since he was made of shadows, he seemed to be naturally blended in with the shade underneath the tree. He would have to choose his words carefully, so as to not bring too much attention to his goals...least the two had the similar goal of claiming the artifact themselves.

"Tell me? Have you been in any towns, as of late? There have been many, upon many of rumors flying about, and I was hoping to meet more individuals that could narrow down these rumors to facts...but, as of recently, it has been difficult."

Silverpine Forest while aesthetically similar, was oh so very different than the Glades of Tirisfal. Both held the permeating darkness which whispered between the trees with unholy detachment from the everyday, however it stopped there. It was is if the dark land of the Forsaken was as much if not more a home to the very shadows themselves than it was to the free-spirited Undead beings there. Arguably though, the Forsaken themselves were not too dissimilar from the very shadows they existed in.

Silverpine was torn open with conflict, the land bore black scars and the very air grew with unnerved intensity as you drew further south. Shadows flickered and watched, (and in some cases followed you), the trees whispered and waited, and everything you encountered filled you with a dread and drew comfort and positivity out from like blood from a wound. It was not a pleasant place to be, not even for the two beings of immense darkness that now wandered through it.

A flicker of energy trickled between the fingers of the warlock as his eyes narrowed, but he betrayed nothing of his knowing as he walked. He could sense the figure following them, so could Virella, if they had missed a being of pure shadows they would be nothing more than mere adepts, and they considered themselves far above even masters of their chosen school.

Virella drew her skeletal fingers slowly into her robe and grasped a crystal vial full of deep red liquid, her finger was already playing along the stopper but she too did not move her gaze from a forward position to betray her position. The two Undead beings did not even share a glance yet had formed a mutual understanding of the situation and were ready to act should the situation warrant their intervention.

Whatever being was powerful enough to be one with the shadows and elect to follow them, was either sentient and intelligent, and smart enough to understand their considerable power and not attack them. Or, the being was driven by instinct and the two undead figures were little more than powerful shadow feasts, in which case the monster would be destroyed near-instantly for greed, nothing was as it seemed.

Virella flicked the cork from her vial and held the container of blood in one hand, Molvanz was drawing upon malevolent energies with both hands, they still did little more than flicker with faint signs of energy, but were ready to delve into the deep end of the mana pool if need be. Yet, just as the air of Silverpine had taken a deep breath and waited for the situation to explode, a voice slithered through the air and the two figures stopped.

The voice was hollow, which did not help to comfort their assumptions of the being, yet they turned to regard it nonetheless.

“Little Shade,” Molvanz spoke, stepping forward and narrowing his rotten eyelids, “Your groveling compliments will not delay your destruction.”

“Now who is acting soulless,” the Black Rose smirked, stepping forward alongside Molvanz and regarding the shadow with the utmost interest. “You will recognize me, whether you are a forest spirit or something darker,”she stated, drawing her hood to reveal her black and bleach white skull and the very shadows flickering in and out of her eye sockets.

“I will speak nothing to a spirit,” she continued, “Yet I feel you are much more than a simple shade, more than one who lingers throughout unimportant forests with little duty. You have an agenda shadow, and I have no inclination to aid you.”

The fingers of the warlock next to Rose blistered and bubbled and suddenly green flame traced a line up the warlocks arm and howled in obscene energy. Virella immediately pushed her hand into his chest and forced him a step backwards.

“Yet, I will not destroy you, you are as I am,” her head rotated to the side as she regarded the being once again, as if a slightly different angle would bring with it clarity. “You too have sacrificed, willingly or not, your body and essence for truer paths of power. You've just gone one step further haven't you?” she eyed him even closer, and finally smirked once more.

“You're an ascendant of the shadow aren't you?”

Ku'urazai
"For the last time, I'm not your 'honey'." she said irritably to the rogue as she sheathed her blade. She always was annoyed at how the rogue seemed to call her 'honey' or 'sweetie' or some other stupid title, though his utility in situations like these made her concede that he was necessary. "What did you find? I didn't have you scout this place out covertly to spook me," she said to Fordred. "And in a dangerous situation like this, sending away most of our protection is the last thing I want," she said.

Fordred
"I can't tell you who or what exactly but I can tell you from the internal hemorrages I found on these poor souls' bodies that they had at least partially unlocked the power of the relic, and at that point all these troops here are just cannon fodder for it. We're better off traveling in smaller groups if we're to get to the relic undetected," he said.

Shade had listened to them, and, after a moment of all of it...he, with a voice filled with great amusement...laughed. It was a sadistic laugh, though if it sounded like that due to his 'condition' or he truly was sadistic was hard to tell...nonetheless, it seemed he was greatly amused by the two.

He then sighed,"Ah...A fine example of the myth of women being more perceptive than men...poetic, isn't it? Quite frankly, I'm a bit embarrassed, no offense to the modest Fel caster."

He looked about and figured that it still wasn't safe to show himself, seeming as it wasn't night time yet. So, he would have to stick with just talking and explaining. He looked to the skeletal woman and then continued to speak.

"But, ironically, I have been referred by the name of 'Shade', and I am content with it. But, you are correct, I was once a priest to the Forgotten Shadow...giving up my body for the gift and reward of higher power. I am a Shadow Ascendant...one that lives in the shadow and night, bane to the Light and day."

He decided to demonstrate. He slowly reached his hand out of the shadow of the tree. What came out was a stick-like black hand with four fingers and a elongated that looked semi-transparent and showed no sign of flesh or bone. It looked to have claws and about as incorporeal as shadow itself.

But, once it had contact with the light of the sun, it started to steam and a hiss was formed. He forced himself to let his hand stay out a bit longer and then hurriedly brought into the safety of the tree's shade. He could feel it slowly recovering already, just being a moderate burn if anything else.

He then sighed,"At any rate...And you say you have no inclination to aid me? Well, I'll make a deal with you...I'll tell you something very interesting...but, in exchange of this information...I would like permission to use one of your shadows as safe transportation across the lands where the sun rises high...But, I can assure you, this is something worth it."

It seems that all I can do to get them to help me...is to tell them what it is that I know. Besides, I'll be needing their help for many reasons...I'll just have to tread carefully.

“Hah,” Molvanz forced out of throat despite his anger, electing to show himself as amused rather than the fire that burned within. It was never good to reveal true emotion to an enemy, and despite the Warlock barely containing it, he allowed the flames on his arm to die out and simply stared at the little shade with malice.

Virella however just stared for a long moment, weighing her desires with the reward, her needs with the payment, and ultimately decided to post a counter proposal, “I will never allow you to take refuge in my shadow,” she spoke, “You are inherently a snake, a liar and the very embodiment of deceit, you are a being of the shadows it would be foolish to trust you. I will however aid your travels in exchange for any and all information you have that I request.”

“I am The Black Rose,” she spoke, “You are likely already aware of that, keep that name in mind if you ever even consider betraying my small grant of trust.”

As she spoke, Molvanz understood where this was going and sighed, stepping back and electing to use the gathered energy he had prepared to defend himself. He drew a circle in the ground with his foot which immediately burst into green flames. He stepped out of it and clapped his hands, and the foot-high flames exploded into a mighty pillar which bathed the immediate forest in a horrible flaming glow.

Luckily, Virella stood between the warlock and the shade, and the very energy around her kept the area in darkness. The pillar only lasted a matter of seconds, before it sunk into the ground, a small black dot was left, which folded out and in of itself constantly until all that was left was a constant warp of black energy. It took a minute, but the being manifested itself into the most vague and mysterious forms. It was merely shadow, merely void, manifest into the most basic of creatures.

Molvanz tipped his head and grinned, “And thus, the Voidwalker.”

“Very nice Molvanz,” Virella spoke with emotionless sarcasm, and nodded to the little shade ascendant once more. “You may travel inside the shadows of that creature, that is my final offer and if you elect not to take it I will not harm you. We are not enemies, but I feel we seek similar goals. You may travel inside the shadows with us and speak everything you know, and we may consider returning the favor.”

The being of shadow did not contain eyes, it merely churned with endless discontent while the warlock waited beside it. Virella waited the response from Shade, as Molvanz grew further and further impatient that they were wasting time...