Twilight Patrols ((Closed/Structured RP)) 3

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Perfection & Lia

"Alright, Commander" she watched as Turle and Waraila had come to try and convince Vimmi to try and get some sleep, which Perfection had no issue's about seeing as she has been under a lot lately. She couldn't help but sigh as she walked back to the forge area, Vimmi seemed to have seen many people die, and it was starting to take their tole on her, especially with the recent deaths of another few members of the Patrol...and to be honest, that worried Perfection to the core.

She made her way back to the forge and found Lia had finished a complete suit of armor for the Bone Witch while as Low was working on a sword of sorts. When she sat down on the table next to Vimmi's armor, she sighed again. Lia looked over to the girl with a curious stare "Why so down, Flamclaw?" she asked using Perfection's nick name again. "It's the Commander, do you think she is pushing herself a bit to hard for this Patrol?". Lia placed her hammer down and walked over to the girl to place a plated hand on her shoulder "Commander Vimmi just saw three other members of the Patrol die today...and she has seen most likely seen many in the past, but that does not seem to stop her. She surprises me as a gnome, never have I seen one with such will and determination" she offered the girl a warm smile.

Perfection returned the smile and nodded "Yea...she's a trooper"

"Did you have anything to do with this?”

The two turned towards the entrance of the forge area as they heard Waraila's roar. Lia growled and went to get her scythe, but Perfection stopped her "I got this, you just keep working and I'll be back shortly" she didn't give the warrioress time to respond, for she was walking out the door before she could say anything. She should have put on her leather vest and shoulder pads, but she didn't need them, as long as she had her claws, that was all the defense she needed right now.

She walked outside to see what all the commotion was until she saw the body of a dead orc, a Shaman of the Ring. She raised her hand to stop herself from screaming in surprise and looked up to see that War, the mage, and their new worgen recruit were all staring at one person...Ithalin.

She growled and activated her fire claws before walking to stand at Waraila's side and said in a dark and sinister tone "You could you do something like this? Don't you know that the Patrol is already going through enough AS IS?!" she practically shouted at the man "It's disgusting, every where you go you always seem to do something pathetic and wrong...and quite frankly, I think a few people are sick of it....What do you have to say for yourself, Death Knight?"
Ein started at the splat sound from outside the Temple of Earth. He had been channeling excess energy into his runes: it was a very time-consuming process that required his utmost concentration. One of his six depleted runes had been nearly recharged when the noise interrupted him. It seemed like most of the people in the Patrol were going out to investigate, so he followed them. He was mildly surprised to find an orc's mutilated body: he was much more surprised to see Vrykul runes engraved on it: there were only two Death Knights that he knew of here. One was Frosthand, the other was himself: the new arrival looking over the body, however, looked much like another rogue Death Knight. As though one wasn't enough.

Ein heard the worgen warrior saying something about killing defenseless orcs and the weak, as well as challenging him to combat. For a moment, the Einherjar felt his blood runes getting hot before he realized that Malak was referring to Frosthand. Ein kept his silence as the other Death Knight claimed that the runes engraved on the limb spelled "Death to the Horde". It was an obvious mistranslation, yet would have been foolproof if no one else had been present who could read the twisted Vrykul runes used by Death Knights. Whatever his motives were, Ein would find out after this issue had been resolved. And then the rogue had to go on some teary, sobbing rant about the patrol and good or morality or... eh, what did he care?

"Sloppy." he remarked, kneeling over the corpse and looking at the runes. "Wasteful. A pointless exercise, and as poor an example of killing as I've ever seen." Ein stood up and looked at Frosthand. "You are a disgrace to all our kind. If you wish to kill someone"..."it should be face to face, in glorious combat"... Ein trailed off as he realized that yet another overlap had occurred. He shook his head a bit in a motion that would be imperceptible outside his armor and looked towards the druid: she seemed to be a nominal second-in-command. "Say the word, and I will happily obliterate this unholy blight on the world from existence." Ein drew his two-handed runeblade out as he said the words, preparing to follow through in a second.
Thanking the Shaman Lynara walked back outside. She found a secluded spot off to the side of the entrence and knelt down. It felt like a lifetime since she had last prayed to the goddess. He began her ritualistic dance in solitude. Glad that the others would not see, she doubted any of them would understand the ways of Elune.

She finally stopped; sweat forming at her brow and breathing heavily. She smiled at she returned to a kneeling position. “Moon Goddess, grant me your blessing in this accursed domain, guide my arrows and aid in my conflicts in this, the dark of Deepholm, help me bring your light to these dark corners.” She said in prayer. She then stood back to her feet and began to walk back when she started to hear commotion, it sounded like shouting. Instinctively drawling her bow she eventually reached the spot she heard the shouting from.

Nearly the entire patrol had gathered around a dead orc body. A dead orc would have been one thing, but the way it had been mutilated, that was enough to set Lynara’s stomach on edge. She notched an arrow, hardly noticing as the arrow was glowing with moonlight. Lynara set herself a decent distance from the group in case something happened, she would have time to react, react and deal with the trouble maker in one fell swoop.
Balastraz, we have a situation.

Wasn't that the point?

Shut up and drop my scythe so I don't have to use these damned daggers.

Hmm....and interesting prospect.

Booty Bay Balastraz, Booty Bay.......

Fine, damn you!
Balastraz flew overhead and dropped the Rune Scythe into the Frosthand's waiting hand. The blades were sharp as Balastraz's teeth and glowed the colour of their respective runes. However, he knew this situation would quickly grow out of control. It was a virtual five versus one, and if these people were mere grunts, he would have no problem. But these were dangerous people. This was an unfriendly place. Balastraz could take out one, maybe two before they brought him down. Ithalin would have enough problems with the two Death Knights and the warrior. Time to....analayze me situation then.

The druidess.....Waralia he though was her name......would be problematic. The ability to shapeshift would make straight combat unfavorable. But he could pry her weakness.....just as with the others. Perfection would be an easy, if not annoying opponent. Her main flaw was that her weapons were close range. His scythe could tear through the thin leather armor. The mage he would crush mentally, and if his dragon came Balastraz would handle it.

The warriors, however, would be a harder task. The warrior would be the larger issue. Headstrong, willing to fight death's blade. He knows what he is doing, or else he would not have challenged me. The other worgen, Ein, would be an issue, along with the other Death Knight.

But most of them had one basic flaw, one every person is born with.

Emotions. He would play them like a harp, spin a fancy tune. His Retribution was not over. It would never be over. "None of you will understand my reasons, but the fact you believe this orc innocent and defenseless is.....disappointing, to say the least. He admitted to the crimes I set before him, but not before I had to crush his mind when he attempted to incinerate me." He shifted his cold, blue-green gaze towards the druidess. "Tell me, little cat, if the people who burned your village to the ground were set before you, bound and gagged, would you not rip them limb from limb? Would you not make them suffer?" He laughed and continued, "I would, little druid. Because that's what the ORCS did. Every orc. Not only one. I had to go and hunt for my family. I came back to a horrid scene."

He turned his gaze to Malak and pointed the bottom blade of his scythe of towards the dead orc. "No, foolish warrior, but the orcs are. My son, dead, with greenskin blood on the blade I left him everytime I had to go and get some basic item. My daughter and wife, left just enough alive that I could hear them breathe the final breaths but that I couldn't run for a healer. All of them had limbs missing, my son's body having no limbs still attached, his head mounted on an orcish axe. My house, burned, nothing left."

He held the scythe in a ready position now, and looked at everyone gathered, "Come, attack a man for carrying out justice. Kill me, and I will return. Burn me, and Balastraz will carry out my acts. And he is much less kind then I. I kill because I seek Retribution. He kills because I will it. Attack me, and you will find yourselves in the void with me.
*Varonus's Post*

Varonus's eyes narrowed as his blade sparked with its azure blaze, "Justice? You call this," he gestures to the mangled corpse of the orc, "Justice?" he stepped forward, keeping his blade pointed at the death knight, "You are no different then the squandering infants who call themselves 'leaders' of the horde and the alliance, unable to let go of the past and instead placing the blame on those who had no part in the tragedy of your past. Losing your family is a price no one should have to pay, but it does not justify killing the sons of those who were the true perpetrators."

He looked to the others a moment before continuing, "If you wish to proclaim yourself just in your murder, then your un-life will be cut short, death knight, you underestimate the strength of the living, and its a mistake you will regret should you continue down this corrupted path."
The voice rolled through the air like thunder, ominous and, more than anything, angry.
It's owner strode over to the group around the dead Orc, fur dead black, eyes twin shards of pale ice.

Grishmak was angry, more than even the fight at the Battlescar. However, this was a cold anger, not controlling him, but being controlled. The Druid glared at the Death Knight, rage etched in his face.

"Ithalin." He said once more. "What did you do. You killed one of the Earthen Ring, right on their doorstep!" Grish glared at the man, regretting his decision to save him back in the Barrens.

"I lost my home, my family, the woman I loved, all to the Forsaken. I feel only contempt for the creatures, and would dearly love to rip each and every to pieces." He said all this in the same low, angry tone. "The only thing holding me back is the fact that there are greater things that need done. If I give into killing the creatures, I won't be able to stop." Grish continued to glare at Ith, now standing much nearer to him. "I control my rage, so I can do something greater. If you can't do the same, then you won't be part of the Patrol much longer."

"If nothing else, remember this." Grish growled "Remember that I saved your sorry life once already, but I won't be willing to do so again. Now, you will allow the Ring and Commander Vimmi to decide on your fate, or you forfeit your life. We won't be nice, not anymore. You were given a second chance." Grish began to speak both out loud, and in the Death Knight's mind, with Vi lending her power to him. The words whispered and echoed, a multitude seeming to speak all at once. "Either give up, or die. And I'll make sure you and your drake stay dead this time."

The Druid's rage seem to beat from him in waves as he glared at Ith, both his mind and Vi's pressing into the Death Knight. He wouldn't let the man just walk away from this, no matter what. Even if he died, he would do his best to take Ith with him.
Alistair wheezed very slightly as Ithalin finished speaking. It was noticeable to a point, mostly just the fact that he took a breath to express his disdain. Unfortunately there weren’t any alternatives to such a thing. He placed one arm behind his back, the other still staying by his chin to rub it thoughtfully. His thoughts collected together once more as he analyzed to situation a bit more.

Without hesitation, he suddenly moved forward. Doing a casual stroll around Ithalin in general.

“You justify murdering a lone Orc for atrocities of the past?” He began, his functioning eye staying downcast at the ground.

“You maim and disfigure somebody living for a crime. A crime you had forced them to admit to, despite them never taking part in it. Did they even know what they were admitting, I wonder.” For but a moment, he turned his face to Ithalin, continuing his encirclement. “You are… truly peculiar. Sadly so. Very sadly so. I do not know whether I wish to feel depression for your actions… or rage.”

No… there wasn’t any rage left. Not anymore.

“You cling so zealously to your past, yet not for the better. You do not do it for your humanity’s sake, you do it as a justification. A trump card to pull when you’re done with your little games. That is truly sickening, brother.” He stopped for just a moment. Pondering his next move, or perhaps just embracing his clearer thinking with open arms.

“Do you know what you are, brother? You are a child. You failed so long ago in life, and you never let it go. So you try so desperately to make it right. You’ll throw the blame on anyone else just so you don’t have to face it yourself. You’re a man… a thing, who simply won’t back down.” Again, Alistair stopped. He took a deep breath, and then used it all for one long sigh. “It’s disappointing.”

The Death Knight stopped his stroll, his arms falling to his sides at an agonizingly slow pace. He came back to the body this time, looking upon it, all of it’s disgusting features. All of the hatred inflicted on it. All of the destruction.

“You submit yourself to the beast that all think Death Knights are. Because you know you can’t be better then that nor they. You truly are a disgusting husk. Your existence… depresses me.”

One of the few emotions he could still feel to a very mild degree. It was merely the fact that he could feel it at all that was the surprising point. Surprising to him at least, but he doubted many others cared. He sighed once more, his mind scratching at him endlessly to somehow show the utter disgust at everything that was happening.

Alistair fell silent at that. His back turned to the rest of the group, but his face was still a stone figure of nothing. He’d likely just spoken more of true emotion then he had since his entire time in this new patrol.
Lynara was completely disgusted at this pathetic attempt to weasel his way out of trouble. “Foolish mongrel, do you even think before you act? Or as your brain rotten to the point where it is completely useless?” She scowled. Her arrow drawn back, aiming right between the death knight’s eyes.

She listened to Alistair’s speech before continuing. “Do you think you are the only one who holds ill will towards another? My daughter was killed during the orcs invasion of Ashenvale. Her head was cut off and her body hung from a tree like a decoration from winter vale. I only recognized her because of the bracelet that she was still wearing. A gift I had made for her… when she was a child. Do not EVER DARE THINK that you have a special privilege to behave the way you want. Like Alistair said, you are nothing more than an upset child. It is pathetic and wrong.” She said. Just talking to this empty husk that was once a human made Lynara sick.

She knew humans, she had even come to respect humans, but this one was no more human than an orc was a troll. “I do not go around arbitrarily murdering orcs. Not because of some form of honor, or some hope of justice, but because I know. No matter how many orcs I was too kill, I would never have my daughter back. So you have a choice… Death knight” She practically spat the word. “ Surrender yourself to the mercy of the Commander and the Earthen Ring, or die right here, right now.” Her voice was violently calm. The arrow notched on her bow was glowing with supernatural moonlight, eager to strike down the enemies of Elune. No matter their form.
Ein chuckled: a horrible, echoing, rasping sound straight from the darkest crypt imaginable. He had stood by while the others had spoken their piece: now it was his turn. The noise from his tortured lungs eventually turned into laughter, escaping in a hollow, flayed parody of sanity. Finally, the hideous laughter stopped, and the Einherjar took a deep breath as he prepared to talk.

"Justice? Justice?" He chuckled evilly again, briefly. "What do you know of justice? What do any of us," he gestured at Frosthand, himself, and Alistair before continuing, "know of justice? If we were brought to account for all the crimes we committed in thrall to the Lich King -and after- an eternity of torment would not suffice to even the score. And here's something else to tell you. YOUR FAMILY IS DEAD!" he suddenly shouted. "YOU... ARE... DEAD! WHOEVER YOU WERE IS GONE! So why," Ein continued in a much softer voice, "do you persist in this futile, pointless, and wasteful exercise, this pursuit of... justice?"

"Is it for peace?" he asked. "Because if so, I will grant you peace, the only kind of true peace that exists in this nightmare world: the peace of the grave." Ein brought his runeblade up, pointing straight at Frosthand. Ten of his runes began glowing; if he unleashed all of their power at once, it would be sufficient to blast any mortal opponent he had yet come across into oblivion. It would drain a full third of his runes, of course, but take no chances was a very good piece of wisdom.

"You disgust me. These actions were those of a spoiled child tormenting an insect. Wasteful... sloppy... petty. Yes, petty." The Einherjar continued, his voice growing angrier with every word. "This was a petty, meaningless action. This orc's death accomplished absolutely nothing beyond making you feel a little better about your existence -an existence that, like every former servant of the Lich King, is tormented and without meaning or purpose. Now, it is up to the commander to decide, but I will happily end your miserable, pathetic existence." Ein finished with his blade still leveled at Frosthand and his runes still glowing with unholy power.
Turle blinked slowly as he glanced across the way at Ithalin. Was he standing there the entire time? The warrior sighed and shook his head, that was a pretty big blunder not noticing the death knight earlier. Either way it worked out, the man was stupid enough to still be standing there when they had come back out to resume the investigation. It was almost puzzling to Turle why he still stood there. The Earthen Ring would soon be up in arms about one of their own being killed, not to mention Vimmi's wrath at one of her patrol members going rogue. However, he had no time to think over such things as more patrol members started to arrive on the scene one by one.

His head tilted to the side as he watched the scene play out. They came, they threatened. The only one who hadn't done much of anything was Allistair. It didn't seem like the death knight cared all to much about it, he was just here for a "thrill".

"Alright people, let's not start a shooting match here. He isn't going anywhere anytime soon, he'll answer for the crime. The Earthen Ring has authority here, not us."

He spoke loud enough for those gathered to hear while his gaze drifted from face to face making sure that they got the message. They were but guests in this temple and even if Ithalin was one of their own, he would have to answer to the real authority here. Turle sighed again and rubbed the back of his hand over his eye fighting back the exhaustion that sought to lay claim to him.

"Waraila, I trust you to not let anything -bad- happen to him. I suppose I have to go rouse Vimmi, she is the leader of this merry little band, so I suppose she's responsible for representing him."

With a nod in the druidess' direction, he turned on his heel and made his way back inside of the temple. On his way back, he decided to stop in with Lia and Lowmaine who were still busy crafting up numerous items for the patrol. They might as well be let in on the situation at hand.

"It would appear that one of our patrol members went and murdered one of the Earthen Ring shamans. No doubt this is going to cause a bit of ruckus around here. I"m not sure how they'll handle this. Anyway, I'm going to rouse Commander Spannershield. If I'm not back in five minutes, come after me. It's likely she'll be strangling me.."

He smirked at the last bit, although the reality of it happening was definitely a probability. Nodding to them, he turned and made his way back towards the patrol's resting area and where Vimmi was sleeping. Gulping, he slowly lowered himself down beside her and extended one of his hands towards her sleeping body.

Just..get it over with, Turle. She loves you, right? She won't...hurt you too bad. His hand hovered over her for what seemed like an eternity as he battled with the decision. Finally, with a sigh he let his hand fall and touch her shoulder giving just the gentlest of shakes.

"Vimmi, love..We've got ourselves a problem. That death knight has gone and done something stupid, killed an Earthen Ring shaman and dropped him outside the temple. It's going to be hell around here."

With that said, he just sat back and waited for her to rise up and either strangle him or jump straight into "Commander" mode.

Lia was improving her own armor, screwing it joints and panels back onto one of her boots before putting it back on. They shimmered orange once then no more, for she had put the same speed runes that she had put into Vimmi's armor. She was about to go see how low was doing until Turle came and spoke...

"It would appear that one of our patrol members went and murdered one of the Earthen Ring shamans. No doubt this is going to cause a bit of ruckus around here. I"m not sure how they'll handle this. Anyway, I'm going to rouse Commander Spannershield. If I'm not back in five minutes, come after me. It's likely she'll be strangling me.."

..At first, Lia was dumbstruck by what she heard, to shocked for words until reality hit her on what was going to happen when the Earthen Ring found out It would be pretty easy to guess who did it...Ithalin, that pathetic prick, I hope we get to make him pay for this she thought venomously. When she heard that Turle was going to wake the Commander, she quickly ran over to get her chain mail chest piece and her scythe before running to catch up with the gnome "I'll go with you, in case, hopefully to stop your from getting strangled.

She chuckled and the thought of the Commander strangling Turle, not because she liked to watch Turle get hurt, because it would have just been a amusing sight seeing as they were gnomes. She walked along side the male gnome until they reached the tent that Vimmi slept in. She followed after the gnome, sliding her scythe back into place before standing by the entrance and watching on as Turle attempted to wake the Commander. She bit her lip as she waited, she knew this was most likely the only rest Vimmi was going to get for a while, and that both worry and sadden her. She was happy at last when she saw the gnome Commander go into a tent to rest, but thanks to the bastard of a Death Knight, Ilthalin, that was not going to happen. She was going to have to punch his rotten face later.

Lowmaine grimaces at the news as she sticks the sword she's made into a nearby vat of water to cool it as the fellow warrior dishes the facts. Well that was just wonderful, wasn't it? The Death Knight had to go and do something heinously stupid and jeopardize their whole operation here. She had only just gotten herself in a position where she could relax, and now it was probably going to be taken away from her by (rightly) pissed off Shaman of the Earthen Ring.

This wouldn't do at all.

She takes the finished blade; still un-sharpened but wonderful looking as any scimitar (she decided to give him something real choice)...that is, until she added the second part. But she needed to get away from the heat of the forges for a moment and catch her breath...and maybe see what the hell was going on with this Dumb Knight...

She turns to Lia after Perfection had run off and says "I'm gonna keep an eye on Backstabber...weapon for the gnome is cooling and needs to be sharpened on the blade side, and the armor pieces I made are done and should be good for you to work on now....when ya get a minute obviously."

She winks at the elf and says "Shan't be a tick."


After finding the group huddled around the body of what appears to be a fallen Earthen Ring shaman, the pieces click together in the warrior's mind and her eyes narrow into slits of hard granite, immediately centering on Ithalin. What a fekking ponce! He jeopardized everything for WHAT?! Killing one seemingly defenseless greenskin?

Her first instinct is to leap over the body and bash that Death Knight's stupid, macabre face in until his skull is in pieces. Her first instinct however, does not get the better of her. Instead, she strolls over, inspects the body briefly and then venomously, and dangerously mutters, "Listen, whatever love you ain't got for the orcs wasn't worth this. I get retribution, but this goes about four steps too far into some downright unfair and frankly awful territory...ya did somethin' wrong, and yer gonna pay for doin' it, one way or another."

She thought briefly on a subject that she rarely thinks of, and is reminded of it by the absence of their orc shamaness Kreska; the concept of honor. As a person who rarely believed in it, she feels slightly ironic talking about it but...well, it had to be said. "Say what ya will about honor on the battlefield...but ain' nothin' worth doin' this ta another sentient being."

Her sword leaves its sheath and her shield is now on her arm. "But if its a fight ya be wantin', then ya'll get what's comin' to it the end for me, or the end for you."

If Waraila hadn't been in such a towering rage, the notion of even confronting a former champion of the scourge would've filled her with trepidation. As it was, her anger burned away any personal regard for her own safety.

Granted Turle was at her side, but she had noticed that the gnome had been through almost as much as Spannershield over the recent days, and was not carrying any kind of blade with which to defend himself with. That meant she would have to watch over his well-being also if this came to blows, something she wished to avoid.

The fact that Vimmi trusted the druidess to look after the patrol whilst she slept made this all the more important to solve before Spannershield awoke.

As she stared Ithalin down, other members of the patrol began arriving, through curiosity or because of her own loud roar of outrage, she didn't care. They were closing ranks against the murderer in their midst. Even the strange human, Fenris registered his disgust... something which surprised her. Maybe there was hope for this one, despite her earlier misgivings about him.

“Enough! There will be no more death here... at least on our part” Waraila roared as people began to face down Ithalin, her tail lashing from side to side as he mentioned Taurajo. This arrogant human had no idea what she had lived through during that massacre, and the one before by one of the tauren clans. She knew all to well what she would have liked to do those who had caused it... Horde and Alliance both, but her own personal feelings had been set aside.

“Ithalin, these shaman of the Earthen ring are here to prevent Azeroth from being destroyed... they are sacrificing their strength... and some.. “ she pointedly looked at the mulilated corpse “have paid that devotion to saving our world with their lives. You are not after Justice.. “ she spat the word out, her eyes showing anger barely held in check. “You are after revenge... or simply slaughter. “

The druidess paced a couple of steps closer to Ithalin, not caring about the potential danger she was in.. after all she trusted the other members of the patrol, she was still unsure of Alistair... not sure whether to be glad he was still functioning... or sad that he had not yet found peace with his ancestors. Nor was she too comfortable around the other one, Ein.. but for now they were both part of the Patrol... and had not committed anything like Ithalin had. So she would rely on them to aid her or at least bring Ithalin down if he harmed her.

“You had no right to murder one of the shamans, regardless of your personal feelings. Those we set aside here whilst we're under Spannershield's banner.. Whether or not this one was part of what happened to you in the past has no bearing here. All there is is your word.. and I have seen little to trust that word. This orc has been slain, brutally... tortured.. and his body defiled in death. That is not the actions of an honourable man. If you had a grievance against one of the shaman... then why did you not bring him to face trial.. as I believe you humans have a system of law for your kind. Or challenge him to Mak'gora in front of witnesses in the traditions of the Orcs?”

Waraila growled again “No, instead you tortured him. Anyone will confess to a crime under torture if it is brutal enough, regardless of whether they are guilty or not.. simply to stop the pain. What you did is pure murder and you will pay for that. “

She was on edge, she knew that Ithalin commanded an undead dragon, although she couldn't see it in the gloom.. nor did she take her eyes off the death knight in front of her. “Turle, I don't recommend waking the Commander for this... this criminal will face the justice of the Earthen Ring for his crimes. As you said, this is their sanctuary and we are bound by their laws and he committed this against a member of their order. We don't have the right to slay him here... it will be up to them.”

“Ein, make sure he doesn't try anything... Alistair, will you do so as well? Fenris, do not give him the satisfaction of combat. He is a criminal, and has betrayed the Patrol. Whilst it will be up to the Commander about his continued association with us, the Earthen ring will have custody of him”

She didn't bother giving orders to Perfection, after all they were all watching over him, but she wanted the other two undead to make sure that Ithalin didn't use anything that the living members of the patrol might not recognise as a potential attack.

Still she waited, tense as she eyed Ithalin, ready in case he tried anything.

The shaman's shoulders made loud, crackling noises as she rolls them, and Tychus took over her place in the chain to concentrate his will into the collapsed World Pillar...or rather, what remained of it. Every time she look at it she could almost feel the earth below her feet crying in strained agony...and every time she felt it surge in pain through her feet, she bent down and patted it affectionately like one would to a pet. “Don''ll be fixed soon.” she said with a smile.

The draenei's muscles bulged and he begins channeling the primal power through his arms, just as she had been doing mere moments before. This activity was draining for a shaman; to literally be a conduit for the elements' forces and powers was too much for a mortal body to bear after hours of doing so, and to be a literal pillar that holds up the elemental flux of the entirety of Azeroth was well...tiring, to say the least. Tychus steals a look over to Bralla and states, “We've received some new passers-through in the temple...vhy don't you greet zem? Though I saw a few congregating near the entrance...”

She sits down and begins drinking some water, petting a small shale spider that's found its way in her backpack, before gingerly removing it, planting it back on the ground and patting it once more on the head with a smile. Once her water skin's supply is exhausted, she walks by and towards the exit of the temple, patting Tychus on the shoulder and saying “Don't be pushin' yerself too hard now, Tyc'us...we're all a team here, aye?”

The draenei lets out a loud, boisterous laugh and nods before gritting his teeth to continue channeling his spell. “Aye.”


“Well, wha's all 'is then?”

Bralla looks around at the motley crew of adventurers and sighs at the harsh looks and brandished weapons going back and forth; rogues, druids, death knights (the shaman fights back an involuntary shiver), warriors and others...all a motley arrangement of races, creeds and probably origins. They seemed to be huddled around something she couldn't quite get a look at, and she can see at least two of them have weapons drawn. Out of all of them, the druid (whom she can tell is in the form of a feral cat) seems like she's the one in charge...and they all seem to be siding against one particular death knight.

She peers into his eyes for a brief moment and involuntarily shudders, thinking to herself with wonderment and slight sorrow that something like this had to happen to fellow like him, at least she assumed he was a nice fellow before he had been turned into one of the number of the Scourge. But, judging wasn't her place as a Shaman of the Earthen Ring.

She approaches the group, her axes jingling on her hips gently in their holsters, as well as the staff on her back, carved of simple wood and decorated with a few tassels and beads. She sees now that the group is surrounding a body, and in turn her heart jumps into her throat as she begins to pick out details of the body; orc male, leathers, a shaman by the looks of it...she gets closer and soon sees it is indeed a shaman of the Earthen Ring; particularly, a shaman named Gor'hok; a novice shaman sent by Garrosh Hellscream's court to assist as best as he could. Oh no...

She breaks into a run to close the distance and leans down before him, inspecting his body properly. Dead beyond a shadow of a doubt, with strange runes carved into his very skin...her face immediately looks at first the death knight that everyone else is staring at, and then the druid, “Beggin' yer pardon, but, who are ye all, and wut in Muradin's beard is goin' on 'ere? Why is...” her voice catches in her throat for a second. "Why is Gor'hok's body maimed beyond all natural recognizin'?"

The deep vibrations in the earth shook Wulf as she padded along in cat form, The elemental plane was foreign to her and she did not like it. But she had been sent here to help and the Earthen Ring had specifically asked her to aid them in their efforts.

For the most part she was a scout, ranging far and spotting the earthen as they fought the Twilight's Hammer. She was a healer and her incredible night vision was very handy in the near darkness. There was no sensation of night or day. It was hard to determine rest periods, since the sun was not out to tell them it was day...and no chance of seeing the brught face of Elune at night.

She had found a rather active encampment of cultists and she was surprised at what they were doing. The drops of blood that had flowed from the wounds of Deathwing as he was held here, were somehow alive and useable as reagents of destruction. The harsh smell of chemicals and elements was everywhere and finally the burns on her paws were too much.

The final clue she held in her claws was evidence of the Twilight's Hammer and their plans to attack the Temple. She was able to put the notes in a pouch and shift into her stormcrow form. Up into the air she raced, the need to inform the Shamans of the imminent attack was vital. The attack would come before the fifth hour, and she had wasted one hour already finding her way out of the caves below.

Flashing across the sky with her dark wings beating furiously, she passed some kind of gathering at the mouth of the Temple. She had no clue what was happening and she did not have time to stop. With a graceful spread of her wings she landed near the Shaman who was in charge. Changing into her normal elven form she bowed low to the draenei and handed the note to her.

The draenei gasped in consternation and headed over to confer with the others. "Get some rest and food, Wulfsong, we have guests, perhaps they can help us defend the Temple. Go and make friends. We will need all we can manage to gather."

Wulf looked around and noticed a gathering of people in the side niche and walked over to greet them. The tents were orderly and equipment was stacked neatly. She was impressed with their efficiency at least. She saw a gnome warrior enter a tent and walked forward with curiosity. She was reluctant to interfere and she waited to see if there were any others about.

She saw Lia and bowed in respect, "i am Wulfsong of the Earthen Ring, I have been sent to see to it you are all comfortable and if you require anything? If there are any injuries I am a healer." her words soft and musical as she gazed at Lia with confidence her golden eye glowing as bright as her blue one.

Her soft leather armor was splotched a bit from wear and one could tell she was no stranger to battle. Her form was lean and graceful, her blue hair shimmered in dark waves down her back. The dagger and short sword that hung at her waist were not for show as they too were showing signs of wear. Her boots were scuffed and sturdy but seemed to ake no noise as she moved across the stone flooring.
Oh, how Ithalin LOVED this game they played. Toss around words and swords, mix up lies and truths. He knew how this would end. He knew it from the first moment his rage had boiled over at the sight of a lone orc, who would answer for his race's crimes against The Frosthand and Lordaeron.

It would end with death.

He let the Patrol members anger wash over him, consume him. Ithalin should have been enraged by now, lashing out at the few less-armored members of the patrol. But his rage was something only the damned had seen, for he kept it chained behind the emotionless sea of his mind. He chose to adress the purple-skin first. "If that is true then, huntress, you are a fool. I ask you the same thing as the druidess here. If I placed the orc responsible before you, bound and gagged, would you not slaughter him? Make him suffer? Keep him on the verge of death but not letting him die?"

He shifted his gaze to the druidess-cat. "If the answer is no, treehugger, then when you shoot me through my cold dead heart, I will make sure I find your daughter in the Void and tell her what her mother has done to avenge her. Nothing except hide behind the veil of politics that prevents revenge for acts done." He laughed at the notion of a trial and Mok'gora. "Druidess, what right did he have to a trial, one by court or by combat? Would you even give a second thought to torturing and killing those that burned down your camp? I doubt it." He knelt down, grabbed the dead orc by what was left of his neck and lifted up his splattered body. He decided he'd make an example before he died.

He threw the body above his head and snapped his fingers. The corpse exploded, showering bits of the orc over the general area. Ithalin had expended no extra runic energy in the corpse explosion spell, and as such it had no actual damage to the explosion. He shifted his feet into a ready stance and brought the scythe up and laughed at the worgen warrior. "Come and fight me, dog, so I may send you the Void!"

Lia waited patiently for Turle to wake the Commander up. She was about to try and wake her up herself until she heard a very faint but noticeable sound of foots steps on their way to the tent. Who ever walked towards the ten obviously had some stealth like skills, but to Lia, that didn't matter, she was able to detect such person by listening carefully, that's all you needed to do really.

She reached for her scythe and quickly pulled it out. She would have twirled it into position, but that would be that she would tear the tent up in the process, so she just held it ready and waited for this stranger to come and enter. As soon as the flaps of the tent opened, she surged forward and attempt to push who ever came away from the tent so that they would not forcefully wake up the Commander.

She lowered her scythe and sighed "Sorry, miss Wulfsong, we are comfortable, yes, but we already have a small problem on our hands. If there is anything you -CAN- do, it is to please do not enter this tent again while the Commander of the Patrol rests....something terrible has happened thanks to a rogue member of our Patrol.

With that, she slid the scythe back into place and gracefully walked back into the tent, finishing any conversation that the Night Elf and her had. She had come to kneel by Turle's side and murmur "Commander, please wake up, there is a situation outside. We didn't want to disrupt your rest, but I think this needs urgent attention"

She sighed and really did hope the Commander didn't want to strangle someone.
Malak thought that Fate had finally given him a challenge, here a Death Knight sought to send him to the Void and it was the most pleasing phrase anyone could have said to him at that time. Malak stepped away from the Death Knight if only to circle him, like a wolf stalking his prey and drawing his second sword. He twirled that one into a reverse grip and held them lightly. Malak’s head was tilted slightly as he looked at Ithalin, the Death Knight held a pose that was the standard quarterstaff position as that is how you had to treat a scythe. The weapon was one of those rarities that most warriors never learned how to use or defend against but Malak was a weapons master. He had spent most of his life mastering every weapon and the scythe was one such weapon. It relied on deceptively looking like it would be used like a spear or pike while being more used like a quarterstaff.

The idea behind the scythe is that either the opponent will focus on the blade or the actually haft, and the wielder would use that to their advantage to get the blade into a position to remove a limb or completely decapitate or cut in half the enemy. Malak knew that to defeat Ithalin’s fighting style he needed to get up close and personal and that meant dealing with the plague riddled corpse that was the Death Knight. A smile touched Malak’s lips as he threw one of his swords into the air and quickly attached his helmet, completing his fearful visage. He then caught the blade and flipped it back to a forward grip and pointed it at the Death Knight. “Waraila is it? I might need you to help me remove some residual plague after I deal with this… Infestation.” Malak said, emphasizing what he thought of Ithalin.

The Worgen warrior then took a breath and in one motion had both swords in a reverse grip and he was flying across the ground at Ithalin. “I think the more appropriate term for me corpse is WOLF!!!!” Malak said with a laugh as he closed distance with the Death Knight. A mere five feet from the Death Knight the Worgen jumped into the air and shapeshifted into what he believed to be his true form and let loose an ear-splitting howl. Malak then landed behind Ithalin and sent his swords flying at two different targets on opposite planes, it would force Ithalin to either sweep the scythe down to send the swords into the dirt, up and into the air or off to either side but that was part of Malak’s plan for the Worgen Warrior already was formulating his next plan of attack. He was on the balls of his feet and was therefore moving fast, he would let not a single bit of energy go to waste and actually let Ithalin’s blocks, parries and dodges give him more momentum, building up the Worgen’s speed and choler to the point where he would be an unstoppable killing machine.
.Warailas ears were flat against her head, her teeth bared in a snarl as Ithalin continued to try to justify the murder of the shaman.

“Shamaness.. “ she spoke to the dwarven woman who had appeared nearby, another shaman by the looks of the woman “I regret to inform you that this death knight has murdered one of your colleagues. Unfortunately he also happens to be a member of our patrol, and as such he is our responsibility to subdue so then he can stand trial in front of your leaders... “ she spoke with gentle respect towards Bralla, although the fury she felt towards Ithalin wasn't so easily hidden.

“I would advise you to stay back, so then another defender of Azeroth doesn't fall at his hands.. “ she shifted her gaze abrubtly back to the deathknight and narrowed her eyes “I would choose your words with more care... I would not resort to such dishonourable deeds as torture, nor would I murder someone who was unable to fight back. If I was presented with those who had committed the atrocities at Taurajo, then at the very least I would not slaughter them dishonourably. I would challenge them to an honourable duel at the least in front of witnesses. “ her tail lashed from side to side.

“However death is not always repaid by death. Vengeance isn't always the answer... I will never see those that were responsible for Taurajo but I would also never take out my anger on those who simply share the same race”

She continued to advance towards Ithalin, intending to try taking him off guard in order to simply subdue him, but jumped backwards when the corpse nearby began to twitch. Warily she eyed Ithalin, but before she could say another word he used some sort of necromantic spell to literally destroy the corpse in front of them. Almost speechless with suppressed rage at this wanton act of desecration she hesitated, which cost her the initiative on surprising Ithalin.

“Do not kill him Fenris, he has to answer to the Shaman and Commander Spannershield. She will not be impressed that we could not control our own actions if he is slain” she cried out as the worgan ran past, shifting into his true form. Now that WAS a surprise to the druidess, she had not guessed that the human was not truly a human, but there was little time for her to woolgather. Waraila knew she had to act before this got too out of hand.

She didn't know what the others were going to do.. but she had to put a stop to this now. Using Fenris as a distraction, or at least she hoped he was occupying Ithalin, she sprinted towards the death knight although she didn't attack. Instead, she moved to try to get behind him, as she did so, Waraila shifted form.. not to that of a bear, or any other wild creature... but to her true Tauren form.

The druidess intended to try subduing Ithalin by grabbing his arms and then knocking his legs out from under him whilst he was distracted.... however as she reached towards the undead human, she knew that it was easier said than done....

She feels her grimace grow at the introduction of the Shamaness. One she knows. Figures you would be here of all places... she thinks bitterly. The two women have a bit of a shared history; as she was a somewhat frequent client of Stawson's archeological operations. That is to say, the shamaness was the representative that the Explorer's League frequently sent to Stawson to discuss finances, missions and potential operations. Overall, Low's experience of her painted her as shrewd and somewhat weak; after all, the warrior never saw her digging for artifacts, or fighting angry jungle trolls, or...

She's snapped out of her temporary reprieve as the worgen-now-turned human gives a shout and charges the death knight, turning to his true form and leaping into the air to presumably claw the death knight into pieces. She grins and shouts, “FINALLY! I was wonderin' when we were gonna skin 'em alive!” and charges after him, leaping into the air with her sword pointed down below her and ready to strike at Ithalin...


Damn! she thinks as she sees two of the warriors and the druid charging the death knight. This just wouldn't do at all; she was all for killing him for what he did, but didn't he at least deserve a fair trial first? Otherwise, killing him and exacting punishment for what he did made the rest of this “Patrol” no better than the rest. Though the shamaness did think it odd that the druid was joining in on the carnage (maybe she was trying to stop them?), she didn't have time to think and only had time to act. She hears the druid shout, “Do not kill him Fenris, he has to answer to the Shaman and Commander Spannershield.” and immediately the pieces in her head fall together. But, again, no time...

She quickly makes a prayer to the spirits of the earth below and begs for their assistance in this time of need to keep everyone away from each other and to at least give her some time to think about what has to be done.

...and the spirits of the earth answer her.

Suddenly, a totem of dwarven design and craft erupts from the earth exactly equidistant between the death knight and the two charging warriors. Before any of them can blink, their feet and legs are wrapped within roots so thick it would take a goblin blowtorch an hour to cut through one, much less all of them.

Once all of them were sufficiently bound out of arm's (and more importantly, sword and scythe) range, she makes another prayer to the elements and it is swiftly answered. A large, rock-like elemental soon pounds its way out of a nearby fissure and emerges next to her, positively dwarfing the shamaness in size. She gives the Earth Elemental a smile and whispers “Jus' look intimidatin', Rocky...”

She clears her throat, glaring at all of the patrol members, save the druid. “Now then...let's try ta be a bit more diplamatic, shall we? Seein' as how yer all guests in oor...” she jerks her thumb at her own chest. “...abode, I think it fittin' for all ye ta fallow oor rules. An' this bein' a place of sanctuary, there ain't no fightin' here. Unless...” She jerks her thumb towards the towering elemental next to her. “ feel like takin' it up wit' him.”

Detente was always the best policy!

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