Journal of the Rising Sun Fellowship (IC #2)

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
Prev 1 2 3 4 24 Next
Kel'tira Sunblaze

Light be praised that this cold is finally losing sway over my body!

I was in Tanaris yesterday, 'cleaning house' as I was asked to. I was not warned the houses I would be cleaning would be those of the silithids. The bugs make disgusting noises when their carapaces crack, or if you step on their legs, they squeal at you and hiss and chitter and ugh.

I hate bugs.

But that is besides the fact. I am back in Silvermoon, and I dealt with what needed to be dealt with. I dispatched a messenger to Viragona through the AAMS to carry a message, a request, to her.

We do have the power to stop her, I think, if we can all work together, and in addition, with the Laughing Skulls helping us, we have the numbers, as well.

(A handful of drawings are tucked between the pages, all full-body sketches of people: Viragona, Malt'ar, Nicias, Tyrael, Auxillia, and a Troll with a ghostly skull carrying a notebook.)
A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

The sun is high, and my dark armor seems to absorb the heat, and so I head into the city proper to escape the sun's rays. But it is not the city proper, I find out it is a little place called Falconwatch Square...and I see something, that draws my attention. It looks like a Sin'dorei...but it is not, they tell me it is called a "wretched"...a wretched...a wretched...a wretched...a wretched.

I look at it. I watch it. It is in pain. It aches and needs relief. It is...

"Look at you, Jon! You are becoming one of them! No, you cannot stay, LEAVE!"

Jahana? What? What had I become? Jahana...Jahana?
Scarlet was aware of the number of eyes that were on her as she ascended the staircase at the end of the room with Eliran’s hand on her back. She knew that her ears were pink with embarrassment as everyone knew what their host’s mind. The men turned to each other knowingly while several of the women glared at her. One pair, a blonde and redhead respectively, looked at her as if she had crawled out from underneath a rock. Judging by the lack of hovering men, Scarlet assumed that they were here alone and trying to catch the eye of their next sugar daddy.

Scarlet had just ensured that Eliran Falconsky was not going to be that man.

They turned left at the top of the staircase, heading down a long hall and through one door to a set of double doors that led to Eliron’s private wing. A pair of guard flanked the doors; one was human, the other an orc. It seemed strange to Scarlet that they would get along but tonight races of both Horde and Alliance had mixed and mingled without so much as a by-blow. The guards both glanced at Scarlet, before turning their impassive gaze back out to the long hallway that led here. Eliran unlocked the door and escorted her through. A guard closed the door behind them.

Behind the doors was another hallway with doors lining each side of it. The first door on the left was closed, but the two after it were open. As she passed the first open door, she could see the trappings of a bedroom there. It was masculine in appearance, dressed out in dark colors but from the lack of light, it was hard to see exactly what colors were there.

There were additional doors in hallway, all of which were closed, before it turned the corner heading towards what she thought was the front of the house. She presumed that some of the doors would be locked and those would be the ones that she was interested in. An unlocked door would not house any of the confidential information that she was seeking.

It was the second door on the left that he ushered her into, being the consummate gentleman and letting her in first before he quietly closed the door behind them. The room was richly appointed in wood and leather, Scarlet guessed that this was the library that Eliran had spoken of earlier. Another door was on the adjoining wall, presumably connecting with the hallway.

A leather chair sat in front of a fire place. It was wholly masculine in appearance and a small round table in dark wood rested near it. To the right of the chair, but still positioned to gather the warmth of the fireplace, was a chaise lounge covered in a warm gold color. This was wholly feminine in appearance and obviously put there for his female companions.

She had to wonder just how many women had lounged there.

A long wooden table rested against one wall, lined up on it was bottles of liquor a scotch glasses. Also present were another bottle of the rare wine and a set of fresh glasses and a bottle of port with a pair of cordial glasses. A tray of bread, cheese, olives, and chocolate rested near the port bottle.

“I see my man of affairs has come through for us,” Eliran said, a pleased note in his voice. “To think that he appeared at my doorstep a few years ago with little to recommend to him but a good work ethic.”

Scarlet, who had been slowly working her way around the room, looked over her shoulder at him while he poured two more glasses of wine. She had to figure out a way to slip the sleeping powder to him soon.

He gestured to the chaise, “Please, relax my dear.” He picked up the wine glasses and waited until she had arranged herself on the chaise before he handed her one. He turned and took a seat in the leather chair and set the wineglass down on the table next to it.

The two talked again for the better part of an hour before he asked, “Are you cold? Shall I have someone light a fire?”

She glanced at the fireplace. She was still chilled from the hour that she had spent outside and perhaps the distraction of getting someone fire would give her the opportunity to doctor his wine glass. She raised a hand to toy at her necklace, her fingers seeking the small latch on the back of one of the larger flowers where the sleeping agent sat. It would take a while for it work, Tirastrian said, and she wasn’t certain if ‘a while’ meant ten minutes or thirty. It was still early in the evening but she wanted to finish this job and get out.

“A fire would be nice,” she said quietly. Her gaze went to the tray of food, an idea formulating in her head.

Eliran rose from the chair and headed to the door. She rose as well, opening the small compartment on her necklace as she did and palming the small folded square that held the powder. She moved to the small table where the unattended wineglass set and maneuvered the packet where she could drop the contents in the wineglass.


Her heart stopped and she looked up. Eliran was watching her with a curious expression.

“What are you doing, my dear?”

She nodded to the tray of food. “I am a little hungry,” she said quietly, “and I was looking to see if you needed more wine.”

“How rude of me! Of course you must be famished! Please,” he gestured to the food, “eat. I will take care of the wine, in a moment, hmmm?”

He walked over to the tray and motioned for her to follow. Picking up a small piece of cheese he offered it to her lips. She smiled at him before opening her mouth for the bite. He returned her smile and pushed her hair back across her shoulder before heading back out into the hallway.

She didn’t have much time and she dumped the contents of the powder into her own glass, dipping her finger in to give it a quick stir. She took a slice of bread and another piece of cheese before heading back to the small table where his wine glass sat. She set hers down and took a moment to eat the cheese before picking up the other wineglass and moving back to the chaise.

When Eliran returned a few seconds later with someone to tend to the fire, she had not taken three steps towards to the chaise, nibbling on the bread as she went. It had been close, she realized with her heart thumping in her chest, she was not if she was cut out for this type of work. The man set the fire and left, all without giving her so much as a glance. Eliran, after he stopped for a piece of cheese and an olive, sat down in the leather chair and picked up his wine and took a sip before continuing on with the conversation.

“Did you enjoy the garden, my dear?”

“It was beautiful, particularly in the moonlight,” she tilted her wineglass and looked at the beautifully colored red liquid. “I enjoy moonlight strolls and just being outside at night. It is a whole other world.”

“You enjoy being outside at night?” he seemed surprised by this. She didn’t elaborate that as an infiltration, she and the night were well acquainted. He continued on, “I admit that it is nice to take a stroll under the stars like we did tonight. Perhaps we shall have the opportunity to do so again.”

The conversation went on and it was mostly him asking questions about her. She answered most of the questions truthfully—there was no reason not to—and found herself wondering how much longer it was going to take for him to fall asleep.

It is not help matters that Eliran took his time in drinking his wine and twenty minutes later, with the fire happily cracking away in the fireplace, he had a third of the stuff left in his glass.

He was taking his time so he could enjoy watching the woman stretched out on the chaise. The firelight caused the jewelry she wore to sparkle on her slender wrist and the column of her throat. Her dark hair shown a rich chestnut color—he remembered how soft it felt when he ran his fingers through it earlier that evening.

He watched as she set her half full wineglass on the floor and rested her head against the arm of the chaise. She was looking tired and he thought that he would let her fall asleep on the chaise before he carried her to the room that had been prepared for her to stay the night. The dark lashes fluttered against her cheek, her breathing slowed and her face relaxed.

He leaned back in his chair and watched the sleeping woman. Her body held an enticing curve as she slept. He found himself torn between taking her to what was to be her room for the night and his own. He had some time to consider it, he thought as he picked up the wineglass again. Right now, he was just going to enjoy the sight of her sleeping.

A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

The memories flooded my consciousness. Memories of my first life. I was not a hero. And I shall not look back on this time again. It was not worth all the confusion and such that I suffered learning it. I will continue this unlife, my third life alone.

I seek a new identity, a new someone. Alone. As it should be...neither a monster or a man. Just existing. Cursed.
A deep sigh comes from the writer as he sets pen to paper. The writing is fluid and beautifully witten.

Somehow, she must have lost interest, I have not seen her for several days. And I never told her 'Thank you', for in seeing her and talking with her, she ignited that creative spark within me. My blacksmithing instructor noticed the care I put in the new weapons and even in the armor I was making, and said he would be proud to send a few customers my way.

Her influence has touched me in more ways than I can count. Such are the ways of muses, they come into your life, and in a moment are gone. I was too forward, and scared her off perhaps. And it was all my foolish fault.

The fire in the hearth crackled and popped creating a staccato music that filled the library. Shadows filled the room, dancing across the walls as the warm light spilled over the furnishings, giving them a beautiful sheen.

Eliran was stretched out in the leather chair, his feet propped up on an ottoman. His wine glass sat on the table next to him, the once polished glass now dulled with fingerprints and the remains of red wine. The fire in the hearth illuminated his strong features; he was a classically handsome blood elf, his rich auburn colored hair gleamed in the dancing light.

The side door opened softly and Scarlet slipped out, her gaze pausing on the soundly sleeping man—or at least she hoped that he was soundly sleeping—and shut the door behind her. Her ruse to fall asleep had worked; he had stopped talking and relaxed in the leather chair. The alcohol and sleeping powder had done the rest.

She assumed that it was getting close to midnight and she need to work quickly. She had no idea how long Eliran would be out and didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

She tested several doors, three were locked. One door was slightly ajar and one was closed but unlocked. She pulled two small lockpicks from her dress and carefully picked the locks on the first door and scanned the room before locking the door and moving onto the next one. This one didn’t house the office either and she went to the unlocked doors.

The third room yielded a rectangular table with chairs around it, a sideboard with liquor decanters and glasses, and a desk and chair that sat near a window. Before she searched the office, she took a quick peek at the rooms with the open doors. It was more out of self-preservation than curiosity. One of these rooms could provide a hiding place for her should the guards come in to check to see if everything was alright.

One was a bath room, richly appointed and filled with little luxury items. It seemed that he liked to pamper his private guests. Another room—the one whose door was ajar—proved to be a bedroom, the light colors and furnishings indicating that it was intended to house a woman. She wondered how many women had slept there.

She put the thought of out her mind as moved into the office, shutting the door behind and went to the desk. It was clear of papers and she started in on the drawers, carefully and quietly sliding each one open and going through the contents. Anything that did not appear to contain paperwork she closed immediately. She did not want him to realize that anyone had been through his desk.

Finally, she came across some orders and using a candle she had picked up from the library, carefully read over them. Satisfied that she had committed the information to memory, she put them back, snuffed out the candle and headed for the door. Reaching for the handle, she stopped, her heart in her throat when she heard voices outside.

“He’s asleep, where did she go?”

“Check the office, I’ll check his bedroom.”

She looked around the room for a suitable hiding place and crammed herself into a dark pool by door as it opened.

The guard that entered didn’t announce himself, but moved into the long room, his eyes forward. She peered through the small opening between the door and the wall and saw that the hallway was clear—the other guard was in Eliran’s bedroom, the door at the end of the hall open. She needed to get out of the office because she wasn’t certain if she would stay hidden if the man turned around.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped around the door and into the dark hallway, pressing herself against the wall and she thought about where to go.

“Nothing here!” a voice from the bedroom called. It would only be a few seconds before he made it to the hallway, she realized as she remembered the bathroom Seizing the knob on the door, she opened it softly and stepped in before closing it as quietly as she could and leaning against it.

She closed her eyes and counted to twenty, hoping that the guards would go away, but they did not. The handle on the door moved and she knew it was about to open. She stepped back and turned to the sink just as the door flew open.

A hardbound leather book with a plain cover

I wander the streets of the city of Ogrimmar. I am directionless. Like a ship on the sea without a rudder.

I need to shake myself awake. I cannot go on like this. Perhaps Cyn had more truth in her words than I gave her credit for. I cannot continue to wallow in this confusion any longer. I must take control of this unlife.

I am the captain of my soul, if I indeed have one. And I shall flounder no more, I am the rudder, the sail, and the vessel!
“I… uh…”

Scarlet took pity on the poor guard whose face was so red that it could be seen even in the subdued light of the bathroom. Walking in on the woman who his employer had singled out for the night, even if she was just washing her hands, had to be mortifying.

“Just a moment?” she asked, looking for a towel to dry her hands.


“What in the nine hells is the matter?” the other guard came up and looked in. “How long have you been in here?” He was less embarrassed and obviously more savvy than his partner.

“Longer than I thought,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“I am not going to respond to that!” she said with as much indignation as she could muster.

“He’s asleep,” the guard continued. She had to wonder where the conversation was going.

“I was, too,” she admitted, slipping past him. “I wasn’t going to wake him—he looked exhausted.”

“I think you’d better head back to the library,” the first guard found his voice and placed a hand under her elbow. He guided her back the room and left. He could hear the double doors opening and closing and she slowly counted to twenty, her gaze on Eliran who looked as if he were beginning to stir.

The Rose had spent the better part of the last hour devising a plan that would prevent Scarlet from getting out of the house with the information. She decided that she would create a diversion, but first, she needed to work on sowing the seeds of discontent between two men who looked like they could carry the room.

Twenty minutes later, she had settled on her patsies. She moved to one and after a few minutes of conversation, walked out the gardens with him and disappeared into the shadows. Ten minutes later, he walked back into the room, looking more content that he had previously, while she straightened her appearance in the garden. He didn’t have much stamina, she decided, but stamina was not what she was after tonight and in the end, it would work to her favor.

She returned to the room and circulated for a short while, before targeting the other man. He too, did not rebuke her but happily followed her out, thinking that he was going to finish what the other man could not. He lasted longer than the first, and when they returned to the room some time later, she stayed by his side and waited for Scarlet to reappear.

Scarlet picked the wineglasses and slipped to the double doors. Knocking on the lightly, she held up the glasses to the guards who let her pass without incident, thinking that she was fetching fresh glasses. She quickly made her way down the stairs and looked over the room until spied Tirastrian. She slipped over to him, putting the two empty glasses on his tray.

“That was a long time,” Tirastrian murmured as Scarlet set the glasses on the tray. She had been gone for over two hours which was longer than Falconsky’s usual trysts.

“He didn’t want to do anything other than talk in his library,” she whispered back. “He is sleeping now, but a pair of guards is with him.” She slipped off towards the doors that would lead to the gardens and outside. From there, she could slip away and head back to the return point.

Tirastrian frowned, considering the information. One hand, he was happy that she didn’t have to compromise herself, on the other it was strange behavior from Falconsky. He had been pondering his ‘employer’s’ actions all night.

The words of his previous conversation with Falconsky came back to him and Tirastrian turned to look at Scarlet as she worked her way through the crowd, slipping past a familiar looking woman. The Rose! What was she doing here? Alarm went through him as he considered the possibilities, none of which were very good. He forgot about Falconsky’s intentions towards Scarlet and focused on the new problem.

As he watched, the Rose leaned forward and whispered something to the man she was with. The man frowned, stalked across the room, and threw a punch at someone else. The second man staggered backwards and stood still for a moment as the rest of the room waited with baited breath. With a growl, the second man charged forward into the first, the pair going down in a ball of fists. The room quickly erupted into chaos as people joined the fray, swallowing his view of Scarlet as she found herself in the middle of a fight.

A new small leather bound journal.

Two nights in a row, I think it may be a new record for us. I joke, but this time I'm spending with Mia, is precious to me. And I am enjoying the nights. Not for the obvious reason, but for the intimacy we share. We talk, we hold hands, we hold one another, and we kiss. We enjoy each other's company before we go to sleep.

I find myself loving those tender few moments I have lying beside her, and watching her sleep. The worry lines fade from her brow, and her chest rises and falls gently as she rests. I scarcely breathe, as I look upon her, for fear of awakening her. Her lips part, and I yearn to lean down and softly kiss her.

Her skin is soft and warm, as I move my free hand over her arm and shoulder. She moans gently and rolls over to snuggle next to me. I lie back and allow her to hold me and I am in paradise. Knowing she is resting, and relaxed here within my arms means the world to me. She never speaks of it but does she still have the nightmares? Here in my arms, she appears to be content, as I am.

She is beautiful, my Karamia. And I don't know how it is possible to love her more each day, as I spend time with her, but I do. It does not grow in leaps in bounds, but gradually, in a warm and wonderful way. Can she feel it, this love I have for her within my heart? She sees it in my eyes, in my touch, and in our kisses. But can she feel it? My heart gives me a resounding yes, and I ask no more questions.

I lie here, her body close to mine, and straddling my own. And I begin to rest myself. I wrap my arms around her, and she snuggles closer. I like that, even in her sleep, she wants to be as close to me as possible. I love this woman, by the gods, I love her so much.
A red journal...bound by a golden rope. A name is printed on the front in gold...Aseria Sunblade

Aseria stood in the rain on the balcony of Greymane mannor, looking at the winding road, the dark green and grey terrain, the turning seas that trashed against the cliffs. To the mage, it was a suiting place for someone like her, a place where she could think and let her emotions run wild and free. There was little of any other emotion here....only sorrow and madness.


The Pyromancer turned to see her Mistress and Witch friend, The Elven Witch, standing next to her, a black cloak thrown over her childish form, a hood thrown up to keep her head dry while Aseria's was soaked through "It is time I asked you something". Ash turned to look back out at the horizon again, her jade green eyes showing little emotion "My ears are open to you, what's this question?".

The Witch glanced from the corner of her eye to the woman "When Vira is delt with, are you going to be ready to fight the Fellowship? With out remorse, with out sorrow, with out hesitation, will you be ready to face them?". Ash took her time to answer the question, chooseing her words carefully to answer the woman "Like I said, Kel is a special case, with her our plans can go a lot more smoothly...and after those recent events, we might have the upper hand already..."

The Witched looked back out at the horizon with Ash " that a yes?". The mage smirked "No...not yes...but a definate and complete yes. I will be ready, the Fellowship will weep tears of blood by the time we are done with them....there will be no stopping me". The Witch grinned " anycase, I shall talk to you later...I must retire for a bit, I'm pretty beat after that little event we had with Kel..."

In a flash of shadow, the Witch was gone, leaving Aseria to stand on the balcony for a few more moments before turning around and heading back inside. It was there that she began to make her way to her room, a suite which was left behind by the Mannors previous owners. Entering the room, she closed the door behind her and walked over to a table where her journal was. Sitting down, she muttered a few words under her breath to make the candle glow brighter before opening her journal, dipping her quill in the red ink in a small bottle, and then holding it over an empty page, watching as a small drop of the ink fell onto it, the red being the color of blood.

*A red sploch would be in the corner of this page*

Blood....the life force of many living creatures...and the horrid reminder of the living dead...depending if they are a Death Knight or not. Me and the Witch had confronted Kel'tira in a came and surrounded her, the Witch useing her shadow magic to trap her. While I had kept her eyes on me, she snuck up behind Kel and attacked, lodging her teeth into Kels neck to draw blood.

I had to stop Kel from casting a spell in attempt to stop the Witch, a quick counter spell was easy enough. Either way, the Witch managed to complete the spell we have now put upon her. The spell is the same spell that was used on me and turned me insane. Seeing as this was Kel we are talking about, however, her decent into madness will be a lot more slower. We have not activated the spell as of yet, waiting for Vira to be delt with before we make our move, in the mean time, Kel will have to enjoy what little sanity she has left before the spell begins to devour it.

I don't have much more to right today...but I will leave with this.

I will break the Fellowship, one way or another, slowly, one by one, they will all break and cry for mercy.

I torture them, and then the Witch will be able to torture their spirits and sanity.

Their decent into Madness will come soon enough.
Kreindis Blazestride

I have returned from Hellfire! How great it is to be again in the gardens and streets of Silvermoon, my home...

I still have wounds, one that almost killed me... The healers cant erase it entirely, I believe the mark will be there for quite some time. If it wasnt for Tislina in my mind, the Fel Orc general that gave me that wound would have finished me soon after giving it.

Kreindis stops writing suddenly, and remembers the moment in his head.

The Fel Orc general sweeps his blade in a heavy strike in diagonal motion, up Kreindis' shoulder. The blade strikes his flesh, and he drops to a knee, clutching his shoulder and looking at the blood flowing down his chest. He could faintly hear the Fel Orc general saying, "You die now, whelp!" Kreindis sat there on one knee, memories quickly going through his mind. They slow down when he remembers sitting on the shore of the river outside of Sunstrider Isle with Tislina, her making him promise to stay safe, her wrapped in his arms and her head on his shoulder, and her kissing him as she left. Kreindis snapped back to reality with a renewed strength. He stood and raised his shield, blocking a blow from the Fel Orc. He then bashed it back, lowering its guard. Kreindis seized the opportunity and cut through the back of the generals neck, killing him instantly. A heavily armored Orc shaman sprints into the room as the Fel Orc falls, dead. "Kreindis, are you alright? Damnit this is a rune strike, we need to get him back to the outpost to the healers, NOW!" Two more orcs run in, these ones plated warriors. Kreindis fades as the Unholy rune strikes poison spreads throughout his body.

He begins writing again, slowly.

I only wish I could have been returning to Tislina. I got word that she has gone off somewhere, though I couldnt find out where. I hope she stays safe...

While I was in the Hall of Blood healing, Kel came and I talked with her for a short time. A strange 'pirate' named Captain Blackbelly showed up, and he was quite... odd. What confused me the most was when Kel began to leave, he cut off a sentence that I could barely catch. He said:

"So, Krrei, how be you and Ti- I mean, I gotta go too."

And he left. I know what he was trying to say, but... how would he know, anyway? Thats the first time I've ever even seen him in my life, and I dont think Tislina knows him either. Its something to think about...

I'm going to catch some more rest, now.
The sun was bright and warm on the streets of the city. The normal hustle of venders and merchants filled the air, and small children ran through the legs of those wandering the city.

I saw, heard, or felt none of it. In retrospect I was a prime candidate for any young thief, as my attentions were inward and not on my coin purse. As I walked through the Royal Exchange parkway, I stopped and saw the sign for the Silvermoon City Inn. And while it went against my better judgement, I entered and ordered myself a drink.

As I sat at a large table, I drank my milk without tasting it. She had not sought me out, and I knew not where to start. She was in my dreams - her smile and eyes ever before me. I feel as though a great weight has been put upon my shoulders, and I am floundering beneath its weight. It was the best moment of my life, for I had met the woman who could have been the muse one only dreams of. It was the worst moment of my life, for like a whisper of fog in the sun's warm and light, she was gone, vanished.

I finished my milk, and was considering another, when I heard a voice behind me order a flagon of mead. My heart jumped to my throat, and I felt the rush of blood go through me, as I turned to see her, Jahana, receiving a large mug of mead. I arose from my chair, and intercepted her as she moved towards one of the divans in the inn.

Jahana had been crying, the redness of her eyes, and nose were prime clues that she was very upset and had been for some period of time. And she was going to drown her sorrows in the golden beverage called mead. I joined her as she tried to tell me her woes. At first, my mind was ecstatic in seeing her and being with her, but my heart was troubled by her demeanor...and I listened.

I sat on the floor before her, and as she told me what had transpired over the past few days, I felt my heart go out to her. She was overcome by emotions, and began to sob. And I could not leave her doing that, I got up and put my arms around her and simply held her. She leaned on my shoulder, and let the tears fall. I whispered to her that it not her fault, and held her close.

Her face was close to mine, and I looked into those emerald eyes, and for one brief moment I was back on a park bench...then she kissed me! My lips felt hers upon mine and I didn't want it to end, so I leaned into the kiss. It was what I had been thinking of for the past few days, and the opportunity to finally do it, took a hold of me. As we pulled apart, I didn't want it to end, and I gently grabbed her and kissed her again.

Her response both surprised and delighted me...and we dined. It was to good to see her eyes dance with mischief as we exchanged friendly intimate quips while we dined. Will I forever be called the "Kissing Bandit", I wonder.

I have a plan, but it is dangerous to implement...and I may lose her forever, however it may mean her happiness, and possibly her life. I can but try.
The room had erupted into mass chaos. Scarlet supposed that under the trappings of fine clothing, ruffians were still ruffians and should the opportunity present itself, they would happily jump into any fight. In a way, the fight was good for her, she could use the mass confusion to slip out, but bad because the risk of her getting punched or thrown to the ground was high. She would just have to be careful.

Scarlet worked slowly to maneuver her way across the room. She dodged a pair of men who were wrestling each other when she bumped into someone, an older woman with blonde hair. The older woman looked like she just wanted out as well, and Scarlet certainly empathized with her. She murmured an apology and moved on towards the gardens. Someone jostled her elbow and as she turned, she was pushed to the side as two more men went at each other.

Falconsky’s guards reacted quickly to the fight. Fights were costly in terms of furniture and housewares and they knew that Falconsky would be more than angry to learn that this had happened in his home. A pair of guards—one of whom was tasked to watch over Calandre—ran up the staircase intent on notifying Falconsky and getting Calandre to her room where she would be safe until the fight was snuffed out.

They found Falconsky in the library, sleeping in the leather chair. Calandre was nowhere in sight. The guards muttered several four letter words and as one tried to wake Falconsky from what they assumed was alcohol induced slumber, the other headed back to the room.

The guard who had been assigned to watch over Calandre looked over the room from the vantage of the staircase, looking for her. Spying her across the room, he went into the fray, expertly putting down anyone who tried to engage him.

A quick survey of the room had shown that the guards were moving in, trying to break up the fight. The guard that Eliran had spoken to earlier about getting someone to set up a room for her was moving towards her, his face registering alarm. It probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t in the private quarters like she was supposed to be but rather in the middle of the fight.

Someone grabbed her roughly from behind. She spun to see a human leering down at her. She elbowed him in the ribs, getting a grunt in return, as she slipped his dagger from his belt.

“A bit rough in here, isn’t it?” the man gave her a cruel smile. “I would love to see what a woman who attracted Falconsky’s attention is capable of.”

Scarlet knew that he wasn’t talking about her martial skills, but she was going to give him a taste of them anyway. She spun around to his side moving too quickly for him to react and brought the hilt of the dagger down on the base of his skull. He fell to his knees, stunned and she stepped around his body, still intent upon getting to the door.

She checked on the guard who was closing in fast, his face registering that he had seen what had happened. The guard didn’t look too happy and he gestured to two others to take the man. Getting away from him without looking like she was fleeing would be harder than she thought. Serendipity came to her aid as three men crowded against her, cutting the guard’s line of sight and she took the opportunity to move.

The guard motioned to two more men, hoping to clear the way. To him, it appeared that the woman whom his employer had extended his home to was being swept away by the crowd. She was moving to get out of the way of the chaotic mob, but she was moving away from the staircase and towards the gardens.

‘She probably wants out of here,’ he thought, slamming his fist into a man’s jaw that tried to stop him from moving forward. ‘I don’t blame her.’

Scarlet still had other problems to deal with before she made it out of the house. The two women who had been scowling at her earlier that evening for monopolizing their host’s attention were moving towards her. She dodged the clumsy blow of one, coming up behind her. From there, tripping the woman was easy. The other tried to land a blow as well, but missed, catching and tearing the sleeve of Scarlet’s gown. The sound of ripping fabric was lost in the fray. Undeterred, the other woman tried again. This time Scarlet blocked the wild punch with her arm then used the butt of the dagger to land a hard blow at the center of the woman’s chest, sending her to her knees, gasping for air.

Someone yelled orders from the staircase and with a jolt, she realized that Falconsky was awake. She ducked down and continued to the door, hoping that the mass of people would hide her from view.

The door was in sight now and as another wave of people surged passed, she moved to it and slipped out. The guard who had been following her cursed when he lost sight in the throng of people. She had been heading to the gardens, so he would fight his way there and try to find her. He could bring in back in through the kitchen and up the back staircase.

The cool night air greeted her, sweetly scented with flowers, grass and running water. Insects buzzed softly in the background, the noise growing louder when she shut the door against the ruckus of the fight.

She slipped into a shadow just as the door opened again. In the light coming from the large windows, she could make out the guard who had been trying to reach her. She had to admire the guy for braving the mass confusion inside to come to her aid, but he was probably doing it because Falconsky expected it.

“Miss Embertide?” he called, looking around the garden at the obvious hiding spots. He didn’t see anything and didn’t peg her for being one to side. “I can take you inside away from the mob.” Not getting an answer, he took to searching the garden.

She slipped into another shadow as he began to search the garden. He was thorough, checking the ground for footprints and looking in the shadows. She kept moving, slipping from one shadow to another. She had moved behind a statue, her eyes looking for the next shadow when she heard the scrap of a boot just on the other side of the statue. With as careful as he was, if he turned around, he would probably see her.

The guard looked at the statue, realizing that the shadow was off. Perhaps she was behind it? He moved around its base, calling her name.

She wasn’t there.

He turned and moved deeper into the garden, wondering where she had actually gone. He had to wonder if she even went out here, the door had been closed when he reached it and would a woman bent on getting out of a fight stop to close the door? He was starting to think that she had just disappeared, but women just didn’t disappear…

An icy white tome covered in frost is locked in a chest. The cover is scrawled with runes to prevent access to anyone but Cynil Inestia.

After so many years wandering alone, I finally tracked him down. Jondular, my sweet love. How I longed for your touch. Even a warlock needs love. Curse the Lich King for taking us both and making us monsters!

My mind has been slow to remember it all. The sweetness of your kiss I will remember until I am laid in the ground again to never rise. How ironic we are now, lost to a form that gives immortality at such a price. No longer able to feel the emotions that give life meaning. The only thing that drives me now is this endless hunger.

To inflict pain, to reap the blood and sorrow of the ones I slay, it is the only thing on my mind for many years. I wandered lost and alone, fighting the urges and finally...I have mastered them. They are still there, but under control. But at what price? My heart is no longer beating with the heat of passion. My body knows only the cold and heartless cruelty of revenge and battle.

I saw you and you did not know me. For a moment, rage nearly overtook my senses. But the calm of the coldness of my heart kept me from giving in to it. I know somewhere deep in what remains of your heart, you will remember me. But is it any use to us now? The only thing we are good for is the killing of the enemies of the Horde.

I am told your sister lives, Jondular. The face of Jahana haunts my dreams. The rage fills me when I think of her jealousy and hatred of my love for her brother. What she saw as me using him was completely for love of him, and him for me. I always heard of the closeness of twins, I had no idea they could reject someones love of their sibling so rigidly.

My powers as a warlock are gone, though I did gain something as a necromancer. Perhaps it will prove useful in time. I can call the dead to aid me. The use of thistle is a thing of the past. I no longer need it, my body is self suifficient in its own brand of magic through the runes.

If I see that conniving elf again, she will suffer as I did. I will seek her and give her a taste of the cold that flows in my heart now. She will never escape my revenge...I will find her.
Scarlet let out the breath she was holding from behind a hedge when the guard turned away. She made her way around to the north side of the house, keeping to the shadows to avoid detection. There, as promised, was a saddled horse. The problem was that her dress wasn’t convenient to riding.

She pulled out the small dirk she had concealed and slit the dress up the side, allowing her more freedom of movement. Slipping on the back of the horse, she trotted away from the house. The full moon allowed for easy view of the road. It was both good—since this was unfamiliar terrain—and bad since it illuminated everything, herself included. When she was far enough away from the house, she slowed the horse down and let it walk the rest of the way to the safe house.

Ahead of her, she could see some commotion. A group of men on horseback were on the road and as Falconsky’s warnings of highwaymen came back, she decided that she didn’t need to see if they were friend or foe. She turned the horse into a field just as she heard one of them call out in common. They were too far away to make out the words, but as three of the mounted men turned their horses towards her, she knew that they had spotted her.

She urged the horse to a gallop and tore off across the field, not looking back as she went. She could hear horses thundering behind her and she hoped that she had enough distance on them to lose them. Detouring through a wooden area and over a small creek, she slowed the horse, listening for the sounds of pursuit.

She moved quietly for close to ten minutes, pausing every so often to listen. Somewhere a twig snapped and her horse screamed in pain as an arrow embedded itself deep into its hindquarters. Scarlet gasp as her horse suddenly reared up, throwing her off. She hit the ground hard and rolled off the embankment. She could hear the dress rip again and knew that the much abused gown would be ready for the trash when this was over. At the moment, she was more concerned about her surviving the night, rather than her dress.

Long hours of training set in and she quickly controlled the roll, using it to her advantage and came up on her feet. The only weapon she had was a dirk that was small enough to be hidden in her dress. She pulled that out and waited to see what she was going to be up against. She had one shot with it and it had to be good.

“Well now,” a voice jeered at her as two men came into view over the embankment. “What is a nice young lady like yourself doing out here alone? Don’t you know that there are robbers on this road?” He ended with a laugh.

“I think this one might be sold for some profit,” the second one studied the woman crouched at the bottom of the embankment. He tugged at his belt, “But first, we should make certain that she works the way a woman is supposed to.”

Both men laughed cruelly at this, leaving Scarlet little doubt concerning their intentions.

“Now, little lady…” the man’s words were cut off when his companion, who had been laughing, suddenly went silent and dropped to the ground. He looked down at his partner, his jaw dropping when he saw the dirk sticking out of the man’s forehead.

He turned back to the woman crouched in the grass, but she was no longer there. He felt a small tug at his belt and he turned around. His eyes went wide and he realized that this was not an ordinary noble woman. He leapt back and pulled his short sword.

“I ain’t going down so easy,” he snarled. “You’ll pay for taking Geordie to the hereafter!”

He lunged forward and she danced backwards out of his reach. Spinning on his heel, he slashed again unaware that she was luring him closer and closer to the embankment. He lunged again and this time, she side stepped and tripped him, sending him down the embankment. He did not have an opportunity to get up before he felt his own dagger at his throat. Soon, he stopped breathing.

Scarlet reached down and cleaned the dagger on one of the men’s cloaks before she turned to the horse and put it out of its misery using one of the long swords that the men had carried. That sad deed done, she dropped the sword on the ground—it was far too unwieldy for her—and turned to head back towards another road, her stomach twisted in coil at the thought of what else she could run into on this awful night.

The Rose stood in the front hall of Falconsky’s house, a frown firmly etched on her face. Her plan to remove Scarlet from the equation had failed; the fight had been meant to hinder the younger woman from getting out and allowing one of the Rose’s acquaintances to take Scarlet had failed. The younger woman had just danced around the buffoon—who obviously under estimated his quarry—and skipped off into the night.

Worse, she knew that Tirastrian had spotted her. While Scarlet wasn’t aware of who the Rose was—they had never been formally introduced—Tirastrian certainly did. It was time to rethink her plan, priorities and loyalties.

Eliran sat slouched down in one of the large leather chairs in the library. His fingers were steepled beside him and an untouched glass of scotch was at his elbow. The hour was quite late and he knew that he needed to quit brooding and go to sleep.

Calandre was nowhere to be found, but considering how the evening ended, it wasn’t much of a surprise. He did not think he had consumed so much alcohol, but apparently he had. When one considered the fight that had broken out downstairs while he was passed out in a drunken stupor it was no wonder she probably reconsidered his offer to stay with him for a few days.

Of course, when he said a few days, he knew that unless she proved to be a complete bore—and the few hours they spent together told him that she wasn’t—‘a few days’ would actually be permanent. He would buy her a new wardrobe and whatever else she needed.

When the guards finally rousted him, the fight had mostly quelled down, but he had had most of the people thrown out. He had opened his home as a courtesy and smashing furniture, breaking glassware and expensive bottles of alcohol was simply rude. A thorough check of his papers showed them all to be there and the fight wasn’t a ruse to let someone slip into his private quarters.

A slight headache gnawed at his temples—a hint that he had over imbibed. Perhaps he should have taken her to his room while he had the chance he mused while he absently rubbed his forehead. At least there he could have locked her in until everything blew over.

Agile in mind as well as body, she had been understated in her beauty in his opinion and she exuded wit and charm; she would not be a dull companion. She would look well at his side, he decided, something more alluring than the stunning but mindless simpletons that his enemies surrounded themselves with. She would be someone who would be coveted by his adversaries once they realized exactly what he had in her—that would be a problem, but he was certain that he could protect her and from what he had been told of tonight, she could protect herself. That was certainly a bonus.

In short, she was perfect addition to his empire.

The problem was locating her again.

He stretched his legs out on an ottoman and allowed his mind to roam about with the options of getting Calandre back. The thoughts transitioned to what he would do once he had her back. His gaze went to the chaise where she had reclined earlier this evening. Her necklace had glittered seductively in the firelight, refracting off the wineglass that she had held in her hand. He altered the image, thinking of just how well she would look there again in a glittering necklace… and nothing else. His reverie was broken when there was a soft knock at the door.

“What is it?” he called, not bothering to get up.

There was a soft sound as someone opened the door. “There is a woman here to see you,” one of his personal guards said in a low voice.

Eliran sat up with that news, perhaps Calandre had returned after all. “Send her in.”

There was the soft shuffle of feet and the sound of a long skirt. He did not bother to hide his disappointment when he saw a blonde woman standing there, quite a bit older than Calandre, but age had not yet dulled her beauty. She had a predatory gleam in her eye that he didn’t care for—ah yes, the woman who had been trying to get his attention earlier this evening. Had he known, he wouldn’t have let her in. He didn’t speak to her, but simply raised his eyebrows. He wanted her to tell him why she was there and get out, leaving him to more pleasant thoughts.

The Rose managed to keep the small smile on her lips when she saw the disappointment etched into Eliran’s face when he saw her. She had been hoping that she could console him in Scarlet’s absence and stay on with him since it was only a matter of time before Orgrimmar heard of this incident, but his demeanor told her otherwise. She opted for Plan B.

“I understand that you are interested in a certain young woman,” she said carefully as she held out the elegant bracelet that Scarlet had been wearing to him. She had slipped it off the distracted woman’s wrist when she was trying to get out into the gardens during the fight.

Eliran slowly reached out and took the bracelet, “Go on.”

“I can make arrangements for her return, if you like.”

Eliran didn’t look up from the bracelet as his fingers closed around the cold metal. “Name your price and bring her to me.”

Scarlet walked along the roadside, her bare feet making little sound in the grass. The dress that had probably cost more than she made in a month was now had a sleeve barely hanging on and was partially ripped up the side from her tumble down the embankment, but also torn in several other places. The sandals she had worn were ruined—the delicate straps not meant for the abuse they received while she fled the house and the encountered highwaymen—and had been thrown in a ditch some ways back.

The chilly night air nipped at her bare arms, feet and face and she crossly wondered why they had picked a dress with short sleeves. Certainly, long sleeves would have been better. Of course, they had only expected her to be outside for a short amount of time and it was unseasonably cool tonight.

She figured that she looked very much like a woman who had been assaulted, but there was no help for it. At the moment, the ruse was probably good one since the only currency she had on her was the expensive necklace and earrings. The bracelet was gone and she had to wonder when and where it slipped off and she chided herself for that lack of detail. It could have been stolen at the party when the fight broke out, but it was gone and there was nothing she was going to do about it. She had taken the necklace, the most expensive piece, off and hidden it on her person. The earrings she would use to barter for food and shelter if she could. The appearance of a disheveled woman would hopefully play on the heartstrings of an innkeeper.

She was nowhere near the inn that was designated as the safe house and return point, having been forced to take a prudent detour. She was on her way to another inn where she would be safe, but it was still some ways off. For now, the bright moon lit her way and it would be several hours before anyone would think to come looking for her. She sighed and pushed her hair from her eyes. It had been a long night and with several hours before dawn, there was still a lot of night—and miles—to go.


Join the Conversation

Return to Forum