Depth of Despair-IC-see sign ups

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Deep down in the depths...the air is warm...what there is of it. There is no sunlight fact you do not know where you are. You went to bed in your home, safe and snug. Or perhaps you were simply standing around bored and daydreaming...regardless. You awoke here. The floor is stone, what you can feel of it, grainy and hard. There is a coating of slime on nearby surfaces. The possibility of water perhaps? You listen carefully and may hear a dripping sound in the distance or merely an echo of one, cave accoustics can be misleading.

There is a faint source of light nearby, just enough for you to make out that you are in a cave, actually a small corner of an alcove in a larger cave. The place where you are is marginally protected with a few rocks. You are not harmed, in fact you seem to be well physically. Though if you had any magic in you it seems to be dormant. You are in the clothing you went to bed in, if any. You have no weapon to use and no armor. How you got here is something you may wonder, but no answers are to be found laying here in the relative darkness. As you rise to your sitting position you look over the rocks that are screening you from view of anything or anyone else in the large cavern. It would be wise to be cautious, you are not alone.

The air is damp and smells slightly moldy, as you look out over the rocks you spot the source of light. A seven foot long slab of rock rests in the center of the cavern. On the edges sit ten candles, all in varying stages of burning down. The candle light flickers as you look around. On the far wall the light catches a faint shine from water trickling down. Around the perimeter of about fifty feet circumference you see various other alcoves, some larger some smaller all hidden in shadow.

Up higher on the walls are what appears to be recesses in the rock face, again deeply shadowed. The walls are rough and appear climbable if you are careful. There is loose rock here and there ranging from fist sized to kodo sized. The ceiling is about thirty feet high, stalagmites point downwards, the points look sharp.

Off to the back of the cavern from where you sit appears to be a passageway, it is very dark, and the light does not seem to illuminate much there. As you peer cautiously around you see smaller creatures of some kind scurrying around the floor. They are gray in color, but seem to have very short legs and long tails.

The earth trembles and a deep vibration seems to come from somewhere. The smell of sulfur drifts through the cavern and also a brief scent of fresher air. You seem to have lost all sense of time. The use of magic seems to be inhibited. Though all normal body functions are working and even the undead seem to be working as intended.
She hated the city; couldn't stand the crowded conditions, the noise, the smells. Set her in the middle of the wild, with one or more of her menagerie of tamed pets at her side, and she was happy. But even she needed a home and had decided to reclaim part of Thunder Falls for herself – using the funds from her mercenary work, Zpan had bought the materials and built into a remote, hidden cavern her home. It was cozy, perfect in size for her and her pets. It was also still in progress, and after a day of long, hard labor in working on her home, she had washed and changed into the sleeping clothes her younger sister had made for her. Crawling into the bed she had constructed – a box-frame with a thick tick mattress and piled high with furs she had skinned herself – settled in to sleep with her hyena Chuckles jumping up and curling at her side.

It was the lack of the sounds of her pets sleeping that woke her more than the lack of her mattress under her. The mercenary stayed still and strained her senses to take in her surroundings. Dripping, echoing in a way that said she was still in a cave but...the smell was wrong, not her cave, not her home. Opening her eyes she found she could see due to a faint light source. It was enough for her to inspect her surroundings, from the candle-decorated slab to the scurrying rats.

Rolling into a crouch, the mercenary bared her teeth in annoyance. Someone was going to die for this, lack of weapons, explosives her pets be-damned. Her lips pulled into a feral smile that none would consider sane as she contemplated ripping out their throats with her teeth and gouging out their eyes...

The hyena-like cackle she let loose bounced from the alcove she had woke in and through the large cavern and possibly beyond...
Somewhere else in the cavern, it sounded distant, a deep rumble came. It was accompanied by a sound of something being dragged over rough ground. The loud cackle from the human sent rats scurrying for cover. One of the alcoves above suddenly sported several pairs of red eyes. The moved fast and blinked and mingled too fast to tell how many creatures were there, but they seemed content to stay up there and finally settled to watching the human.

Now that they were still, she could count five pairs of eyes, though it was still too dark to see what kind of creatures they were. A sound of chittering came from the alcove and they almost seemed to be conferring with each other.
With her low rank, her youth, and her lack of potential, the young teen was more a servant than true student learning the path of the Light. As such, she was up before dawn to help cook and clean in the Cathedral and even in the large cemetery. She didn't mind, really. Maj was being useful and had a purpose...even if some felt she should give up in her attempts to become a Priest of the Light and settle into the life of a civilian merchant or housewife.

It was well past dark when she was finally settling in for the night, removing her work-soiled Novice's habit and placing it in the laundry basket on the trunk that was located at the foot of her cot. After her quick bath, she pulled on the ankle-length nightgown she had made herself and brushed out her damp hair until it was dry. With a prayer to the Light to protect her sister and few friends, she crawled beneath the covers of her hard cot in her small small room - like the other novices, she had a room that was truly only big enough for her cot, the small trunk that contained her few clothes and belongings, and a bedside table that had a water pitcher and basin. The only light was what came through the tall, narrow slit of a window and the candle on her bedside table.

Blowing out the candle, she settled beneath her covers and closed her eyes.

...what was with that dripping sound? And why was she so cold? And the bed felt

The scent of sulfur caused the young teen to crinkle her nose. What...?

Opening her eyes, the teen blinked in confusion. The light was wrong – it wasn't the steady glow of the street light near the tall slit of a window in her room, it was more like the flickering of numerous candles...

The earth rumbled and then...there was a familiar laugh. Was that....?

“I see you!” her sister's voice bounced around, making it hard to determine where she was in the vast cavern..if she was even in this particular chamber. “I see those beady little red eyes!”

Pushing herself to her feet, she stumbled out of her alcove, her nightgown's hem billowing about her ankles and the stone floor cold and gritty beneath her feet. Her voice was soft, timid as she entered the main cavern. “...Zpan? Where are you? What's going on?”
A rat peered out from under a rock at Majustu's feet, for just a moment it glared at her bare toes. It did not take more than a few seconds for it to leap out at her feet and chomp down on a toe. It was like ambrosia to the gray rat, the taste of fresh blood! Another head popped out of a near by rock and scrambled towards the girl, squealing with delight.

As he dashed towards the girl a curious flash of shadow peeled off the edge of the shelf above Majustu. The blur of a black shape snatching the second rat before it had even got a chance to react, might startle Maj. The black shape lifted up on featherless wings and shot back up to the shelf, the squealing of the rat abrubtly silenced as it disappeared down the gullet of the black creature.

Near Zpan, the red eyes peered down at her from above, a chittering sound seemed to come from the creatures as they looked first at her then the sound of the voice of Majustu as she called out. The black creature flying out of the crevice above Majustu seemed to excite them greatly and they all ducked back into the safety of the back of their hole.

As Zpan walked out from her location, she would see various rocks laying about. Beside one of the rocks was a glowing violet colored mushroom. If she looked closely she might see the remnants of a skeleton there, several bones that were about human sized. One of those could possibly make for a club of some kind to those who wanted a weapon.
Throm throws down his hammer as he yawns" Rough day....", looking at the pile of armor and weapons he smile's, proud to be working at the garrison that housed Garrosh's main force's. But he looks out, it was twilight when he left the forge, the tired guards posted out front waved to him.

Walking out from the blacksmith he wave's the guards and checks out quickly with the captain of the garrison eager to get home to his family. Moving through the streets at a break neck pace, Throm nearly runs over goblins who got in his wway or even the occasional blood elf. Throm stared at them, he despised them almost as much as he despised the alliance.

His hatred for the alliance came from the belief they had captured his brother and taken his only family left away from him. Moving into his house he looks around,. A small child appear and throm hugs the young boy quickly whispering to him. Looking around he looks to his son "Tell your mother i am going to go straight to sleep." the boy nod's and run's toward the kitchen as Throm ascends the stairs.

Laying down he falls asleep immediately, his back hitting rock cause's him to jump to his feet. Looking around he clench's his fist's bellowing " WHAT ALLIANCE TRICKERY IS THIS!?!?!" he crouch's and looks around, his eye's quickly adjusting to the dark. As a rat come's close to him, Throm quickly move's to grab it and hurl it out of the small cave he was in.
The rats in Stormwind were not this bold, were not this aggressive. Maj shrieked in pain, shaking her foot to dislodge the creature attacking her foot when the black blur swooped by to snatch up the other one charging at her. The rat she dislodged was back on its feet and charging at her feet again and she could hear the scurrying of more rats excited by the scent of her freshly spilled blood. Above that though she could hear the sound of her sister cursing, a distinct mixture of Common, Dwarvish and Orcish.

Futilely she tried to pull on the Light to form a shield and heal her toe and found her access to her admittedly small reserve of mana....gone. The sound of more bellowing from a nearby – maybe? The acoustics in this place... - and then a rat literally flying through the air near her caused her to jump the moment the rat attacking her leapt for her feet. It missed and hit the ground...and had its skull crushed under the calloused heel of her older sister, who looked as murderous as any rampaging Orc.

Zpan had snatched up one of the skeleton's femur bones when she came across it in her rush to get to her sister's side and used it as a club to bash in the skulls of any rat that ventured to close to her and her baby sister.

“Why haven't you healed your foot?” the mercenary asked her sister, watching for more rats.

“I...I can't pull on my mana....there's something wrong!” Maj keened softly.

“On top of whatever's happened to bring us to here? Just lovely...” Zpan's lips twisted into a combination of a bitter smirk and sneer.

“...that was you yelling just now, right?”

Baring her teeth, the mercenary shook her head. “No. And it was Orcish. There's Horde here...”

Great. Blood-crazed rats and who knew how many of the Horde lurking around. And Maj couldn't pull on her mana and Zpan without armor or decent weapons!
Carinoth was sitting in his apartment in Silvermoon meditating on the shadows when suddenly his uncle kicks open the door to the room. "HEY CARINOTH WHAT YOU DOING!?" Carinoth jumped in surprise when his uncle burst into the room then slowly turned his head with a annoyed glare.
"May I ask why you had to come barging into my room again even though I have a sign put up.....again?" Carinoth said as he stood up and walked towards his Death Knight uncle.
"Because you have been in here for like a day in a half." Carinoth just shrugged. His uncle face palmed. "Go get some sleep. You haven't got any in awhile and believe it or not I actually do care about your mental health." Carinoth made a displeasing groan then yawned loudly and frowned.
"Fine, uncle. I shall go to bed." A few minutes after casual banter between the too of them Carinoth was finally ready for bed. He frowned over to his uncle one more time.
"Don't give me that. When has anything bad ever happened to a person while there sleeping?" Carinoth rolled his eyes then kicked his uncle out then plopped himself down on the bed. He layed down then placed his hat on his face and attempted to fall into blissful sleep.

After a few minutes of trying to sleep Carinoth opened his eyes suddenly. 'Why does the bed feel different?' He thought to himself. He removed his hat then sat up and looked around. What he saw was....a cave. With a long slab with candles on it. "If this is some prank or mind game uncle it isnt funny." Carinoth said to the emptiness of the cave. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance. He tried to become one with the shadows, but the shadows simply would not bend. 'Well that's annoying. No magic, no shadow's.' Carinoth shrugged at himself then went over to the slab with candles on it. "When the shadow's wont bend to you. Use the light..." He muttered to himself as he picked up the candle that was the least melted away. He then suddenly heard the soft sounds of rats. He turned around quickly with the candle in his hand and saw little rats simply scurrying around doing what rats do best- be annoying to everyone else. Carinoth face palmed himself. 'I hate rates. I really do.' He thought as he rubbed his face.
The rats were suddenly more cautious as their numbers started to dwindle. The noise from yelling was certainly encouraging them to hide better. The five pairs of red eyes had disappeared as well, whatever critters they happened to be were obviously shy.

The slab was about four feet wide and slightly oval in shape. The elf would be able to clearly see the center of the slab had numerous holes in a scattered seemingly random pattern. The surface was concave, the depression deepest at the center. This close he would see scratches and gouges as well. Instead of grey like the rest of the rock, the depression was stained a very dark brown. Several smaller insects scurried around in and out of the small holes, they appeared to be some kind of beetle.

Nothing happened as the candle was removed. The long one he chose was perhaps eight inches long and burned slowly, flickering and threatening to go out if he moved too fast.

The rat tossed out of the cave where the orc was happened to land close to the slab, the force it was thrown had snapped its neck and it lay still. Above in the ceiling several dark shapes took wing and floated gracefully in circles, watching the action below. They were shadowed and appeared to be bird shaped. Ranging in size from three feet long to ten feet long from snub nose to long gracefull tail. All together there were seven of them the three smaller ones and two medium sized ones seemed to avoid the larger two. Their eyes when they peered at the action below seemed to glow a faint green. Their wingspan was about double the length of their body, the tail an extra length.

Another rumble sounded from somewhere, the deep vibrations making the ground tremble beneath their feet. It could be natural magma movements or...something large moving. So far the critters flying and the ones hiding did not seem as aggressive as the rats. Though that did not mean they were passive.

The wall where water was draining down appeared to be a pool. There was no splashing, but a steady drip seemed to come from high up on the wall in a steady stream seeping into the pool. The pool appeared deep if anyone ventured closer, and took up a full third of the floor of the cavern. Ripples occationally disturbed the surface of the water, as if something moved below.
Miles Varen was doing his absolute best to focus on the book in front of him. A colleague had asked him to review his latest treatise -on the potential of using magic to power weapons systems, of all things- and Varen intended to have it done by the following morning. The only problem was in approaching it in a purely academic manner. He wore so many personas it was getting hard to maintain the proper appearances. Professor Miles Varen, Lord General Draker of the Blood Crows, Adam Miller of the Miller Conglomerate and many more, all of them would approach a problem differently. Miles Varen would have to act intrigued by the theory, whereas Lord General Draker would know from personal experience that the theory was flawed and the weapon would fail to produce a sufficient explosion. The trick in reviewing his colleague's work was trying to point out the flaws while giving him enough information to point him in the right direction without seeming overly condescending or suspicious. Varen stretched and yawned, then got back to focusing on the pages with bleary eyes. After several minutes, the professor gradually nodded off.

When he awoke, Varen was not particularly happy, to put it mildly. His warmly comfortable apartments had been replaced by a small, cramped stone alcove, there were some rather inconsiderate dolts raging on in Common and Orcish, and... was that a rat gnawing at his shoe?! Miles kicked the little beast away, and it landed somewhere in the shadows between his alcove and the table, squeaking indignantly. Miles vaulted out of the alcove and landed on his feet in the shadows, preparing to summon the portal that would take him back to Stormwind or Alpha Base. He channeled his not inconsiderable store of energy... or not. Bemused, Varen tried again and got exactly nothing. Starting to get more than a little concerned, he tried creating a small flame and got the exact same results as the portal attempts: a whole lot of absolutely nothing. Disgusted, he stalked back to his small alcove and sat down, voicing his thoughts out loud.

“Possibility one. I have spontaneously gone insane while reviewing Professor Archer's work. Unlikely: his writing prose isn't that thick. Possibility two. I have always been insane, I just haven't really thought about it until now.” Varen gave that one serious consideration, decided that was more likely, then decided to get back to that rather intriguing line of inquiry later. “Possibility three. This is a lucid dream.” The human punched a wall and winced in pain. “Nope. Pity. Possibility four. I have, through some unexpected and unknown means, ended up in a miserable, dank, slimy hole in the ground with some sort of magic suppression field without so much as a pocketknife or pull-tab grenade. Eh, might as well roll with that one and see where it goes.” He stood up and started rifling through the pockets of his outfit, checking to see what he had.

“Medical gauze, check. Box of sulfur friction matches, check. Pull-tab grenades... gone. Shocker. Non-regulation field knife... also gone. And that had been a present, too. Too bad. Field rations, check. More's the pity.” The man sighed at the iniquity of whoever took his grenades but left him with the field rations, which ranged from bland to unspeakably vile in taste. “Paper, pencil, string... all check. No water. Ah well, that shouldn't be too hard to find in a cave like this.”

Miles Varen bent down and picked up a chunk of rock about the size of two of his fists doubled up. That impromptu weapon in hand, he started walking briskly towards the tunnel in the back of the cavern. Varen raised his voice to carry through the enclosed area.

“Much as I'd love to stick around, I have places to be. Goodbye and have fun murdering each other!”
Throm had moved out of the cave jumping on top of a rock looking around his eye's narrow as he see's two faint moving objects in another part of the cave. Looking up his eye's narrow as he looks at the creature's flying above. Feeling around he walks trying to get a feel of where he is. " I hate cave's" he mutter's angrily to himseld.Cursing loudly he looks around.

After hearing a voice yell out “Much as I'd love to stick around, I have places to be. Goodbye and have fun murdering each other!” He roar's in response and turns and hurtle's towards where the voice originated from, simply running into and pushing boulder's out of his way. The soreness in his muscles forgotten, his want to sleep also forgotten. All he could think was to cave in this mans skull.

Seeing a man walking away he leaps toward him bellowing "DEATH TO ALL THE ENEMIES OF THE HORDE." attempting to just flat out trample the man he keeps his head down and aims for the mans knee's.
The voice of Miles seemed to encourage the rats to leave him alone, and the indignant rat who was flung away scampered off into a hole in the floor of the cave. More rats seemed to be scattering as the man strode across the floor, which was pocked and uneven at best, with only occational smooth places.

As he neared the passageway, he would notice a distinct odor of sulfur. The walls seemed to have a slight glitter to them from the candlelight in the distance. The passageway itself was pitch black. If he ventured in he might detect a shuffling noise ahead of him. The floor seemed to dip here, and there was no light to tell if there was even a floor here beyond the range of the candle light.

The closer he got to the entry of the passage the more things he might spot on the floor, if he had any light to see by. The possibility of others having been here before and maybe leaving things scattered about was certainly there.
Varen paused and looked around the cavern, namely at the flyers wheeling about up in the air and the pool of water near him and his destination. Varen kept his distance from the large pool, as he was fairly sure he could discern something lurking in its depths. As he got near the tunnel out, the professor noticed an odor of sulfur: a hot spring, perhaps? The glimmering flecks in the wall indicated a relatively high metallic composition, possibly gold, pyrite, or feldspar. As he walked in the dark, his foot nudged something solid and loose, and not at all natural feeling. Intrigued, he bent to pick it up, but was interrupted by a bellowed Horde warcry nearby.

The orc barreling towards him looked not at all happy and didn't appear to be in the mood to be reasoned with. Varen sighed. Why was it that almost every adult orc tended to be a mindless killing machine making war with everything in axe reach? It got rather annoying after a while. Varen walked back to a couple of feet away from the pool's edge just before the orc lowered his head and started charging. Miles bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times, preparing to spring away as long as he timed it just right... there.

The human dodged several feet to the side right as soon as the orc hit the point where he would not be able to turn away. A few hundred-odd pounds of orcish muscle hardly lent themselves to building the most maneuverable being in the world, especially not after he had built up the momentum for what would have been a truly devastating hit -had it connected. As Miles was fond of saying, however, close only counted with horseshoes, hand grenades, and mana bombs. Varen pivoted around to face the orc -who had hopefully landed facefirst in the large pool- and called out a taunt in perfectly fluent Orcish.

“Sloppy, that. Very sloppy. I would have expected better discipline from a fourteen-year-old recruit straight from the slums of Orgrimmar.” To add injury to insult, Varen threw his rock at the wallowing orc's head: Varen had always had a good throwing arm, which was one of the reasons that he loved horseshoes and hand grenades so much. With the time that bought him, Varen struck one of his matches on the sole of his shoe and bent down to see what other items were laying around.
The orcs headlong charge indeed had landed him in the very DEEP pool. And there were things in the water, none of them more than a foot long however. Mostly fish, eyeless white ugly things that seemed to have a lot of teeth. Which they decidedly used on anything that happened to fall into 'their' domain. Of course the splash of water of the orc landing in it was enough to send several of the closest into a feeding frenzy, ripping and tearing at the orc.

If he could swim he might be lucky enough to make it to the edge of the pool and climb out before he was totally shredded by even more of the hungry fish coming up from the depths of the pool.

The match revealed some sort of rags that were laying on the floor partially burried in the dust and gravel. If he was to look closer he might find a rod that was wrapped in the rags. It was roughly two feet long and a smooth dark grey metal, possibly obsidium. One end had a deep purple gem attached to it by means of golden wires criss crossing it and inserted into a hole through the end of the rod. It was quite secure and not about to fall off the rod. The rag looked to be a once very pricey golden colored silk. It was thick but lightweight, and appeared to be a cloak of about floor length if it were worn. The dust and grit shaken off of it made it appear a bit better than average in quality.
As Throm lands in the water he is shocked, he even more so when the rock slams into his head, barely even flinching he starts swimming towards the shore when the first fish bite's, he feels the teeth close on his leg and not even puncture his skin, followed by more gnawing from fish.

He looks down the see one swimming straight at his face, he reaches into the water and snatch's up the fish. Holding it in one hand he continue's to swim forward. Reach the shore, he notice's several bleeding bite marks on his leg, not life threatening from what he could tell. after examining the bite marks he looks to the human and points with the fish" Why did you put me here Alliance scum? I will kill all your friends here and escape!" moving towards the man his foot hits something, forgetting about the fish he slams it head into a boulder and toss's it aside.

Grabbing the rod he pulls it with his strength, staring at it, he attempts to see or feel any magical properties. Pointing it at the human in an attempt to see if there were any spells made to be cast from its tip. Grunting in common he looks at the man" I dislike you greatly, but you WILL show me the way out of the cave you dug!" in surprisingly good common.
Varen's head snapped up as the orc managed to climb out of the pool and cross the intervening distance with surprising speed for something so bulky. Before he could react, the orc managed to scoop of the rod and point it at him. Given that orcs like that didn't have an ounce of magic in them, the odds of him actually managing to operate the rod were slim to nonexistent. Before he got up, Miles grabbed a handful of the loose dust and grit on the cave floor as well as the cloak. He took a good, long look at the rod.

Probably magical. he thought. Looks like some sort of channeling aid. Possibly an amplifier or combat wand? The gold and gem look like a magical retention cage: probably to proof it against a null-zone.

"I dislike you greatly, but you WILL show me the way out of the cave you dug!" the bleeding orc roared in passable Common. The human sighed and slowly rose to his feet, giving the orc a pitying look and clasping his filled hands behind his back. After a moment of consideration, the human spoke with a very patient -condescendingly so, in fact- tone in Orcish.

“Right. I will show you the way out of the cave that I dug. With my bare hands. Because you dislike me so much, but you're still willing to let me live long enough to show you out. At which point you will no doubt snap my neck with your bare hands, because you're an orc, and orcs-” whatever Varen was going to say quickly became a moot point.

With blinding speed, the human snapped his right foot up and slammed into its target... the fork between the orc's legs. At the same moment, his right hand lashed out from behind his back, throwing a handful of detritus into the orc's beady eyes. A moment later, his left hand brought the rather threadbare cloak out, lashing it around the orc's head and tightening it so that it caught on the tusks. Miles rapidly closed the two-and-a-half foot gap, grabbed the rod with both hands, twisted it out of the orc's hands in a way that ensured no grip could hold it, flipped it, jammed the gem section of it into the orc's stomach, and channeled as much energy as he could, hoping to generate a magical lightning strike on the orc.
Despite it being her home the past few years, Stormwind still wasn't what felt like home to Sefarra. Walking about the streets in the human city still bought her odd looks occasionally from passerbys. She couldn't really blame them though. The draenei's figure and build was certainly much different than that of a human. At least her landlord didn't have prejudice against her. Provided she had the coin to pay rent for, that's all he cared. Of course, she was sure he was also a bit intimidated by the hefty rifle that she oft carried in and out of her flat. He rarely communicated to her unless it was regards to rent, which was fine with her.

Today felt a bit different though...a wierd feeling in twinged in Sefarra's gut as she passed by the landlord. He was standing outside her flat, seemingly trimming one of the bushes. He glanced up at her, a wierd look seemed to flash across his face, disappearing as quickly as it had come, and he turned he clippers back to the bush. Maybe it was the dimming light from the sunset throwing shadows, she wasn't sure. Shaking it off, the draenei climbed the front stairs, stepping up to the building.

Messing with the key for a moment, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. A big, red-haired dog pounced upon her entrance. "Red!" She spluttered, batting at the dog. "Don't worry, I'm fine!" The dog backed down, happily wagging it's tail at her. "I'm already exhausted, you know?" She said to the exhuberant beast. "here...dinner while I go to bed." She pulled some jerky from the pantry and tossed it to Red.

That done, she strode into her bedroom, Red trotting close behind half-gagging as he attempted to swallow the hunk of dried meat whole. "Chew the damn thing, you glut!" She watched as the dog finally choked it down. Fully understanding her intention to sleep, Red plopped himself at the foot of the bed. The huntress untied her leather-lined chain armor, and tossed it aside, letting it fall with a satisfying crunch by the wall where her rifle sat. All that weight gone felt good, making her feel several times lighter.

She sat down on the mattress, and pulled her shirt off, and draped it over the bed-side table. "Get up here, Red." She called to the dog, patting the bed beside her. A moment passed, the dog remained sleeping soundly at the foot of her bed. "Get up here, you mangy thing!" She laughed, moving over to where Red lay. "Red?" concern raised in her voice as the dog still didn't wake. Suddenly a swift movement caught her attention, barely spotted in the corner of her eye.

The twinge in her gut sprung back, ten-fold. "Who--?" She stood, turning to see what or who it was. 'THWACK' Her skull seemed to reverbrate as something heavy cracked against her head. The draenei collasped to her knees, falling on all fours as conciousness speedily slipped from her. "Re-" was all she could barely whisper before everything went black, leaving her body a limp bag on the floor.

A piercing headache woke her, every heartbeat seeming to send a jolt of searing pain throbbing through her temples. "Ohhhugh" Sefarra moaned, as she lay there on her back, barely coming back to conciousness. The room was dark, much darker than she remembered. "Red?" She croaked. She sat up, clutching her head and cringing as the motion intensified the migraine. After waiting a moment for the pain to subside, she placed a hand on the floor, in an effort to stand. It was cold...and hard! She glanced about, suddenly remembering the sudden event she'd just left. "Red!?" She called out louder, desperately searching around. Her bed was gone, her armor, her rifle...even Red! The reality of where she was sunk in, a sickening feeling rocketing to the bottom of her stomach. Kidnapped...and dumped in a cave?
The dim light of a lit candle stub illuminated a middle-aged man sitting at a desk. The desk was covered in disorganized piles of paper. The man was hunched over a piece of parchment, writing with a quill that he occasionally dipped in a pot of black ink. After a day of spell experimentation with arcane magic, he was recording his findings for later use. His handwriting wasn’t elegant, but it was at least neat enough to read without any extra effort. He cursed when a drop of ink landed on his writing, taking a cloth to absorb some of the damage.

After a few more minutes of writing, Aevus let out a yawn. Again, he’d lost track of time, and would pay the price for it the morning after. He stood up and stretched, his arms going up and then lowering to rub his eyes. When he was finished, he extinguished the candle and walked to his bead, collapsing on it without removing his clothes. It was only seconds before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

When he awoke, he immediately noticed the absence of his quarters in Dalaran. In fact, the area around him was entirely foreign. Was he dreaming? Doubtful, dreams didn’t feel so real. So then was this a practical joke by one of the apprentices, or something more sinister? He stopped what he was doing when the sounds of combat reached his ears. What was going on, and who was fighting? He tried to conjure a fireball in his hand to illuminate the area, but for the first time in thirty years, his magic failed him.

He tried to recast the spell, taking time to examine the process that was usually second-nature to him. Still, it failed. So he wasn’t the problem… He reached out his senses for magic, trying to identify the source of his problems, and felt the presence of some strange magical force. It was definitely possible to negate a mages powers for a short time, but such a wide-spread, long-lasting spell was unheard of. This needed investigating.

He lightly traced his fingers along the stone floor of the cavern, and met something hard. He picked up a stone that filled his palm. This would have to do. He rose to his feet and crept from the alcove in which he’d awoken; best not to disturb any potential threats in his current, vulnerable state.
Shocked by the humans quickness and speech Throm growls and move's forward but is unprepared for the mans sudden movement, keeling over he take's blow after blow. Standing upright he attempts to grab the cloak as his eyes burn from the dirt. Grabbing the cloak he rips the cloak to shred's. With bits still hanging onto his tusks he stare's at the man with a menacing look and grunt. Kneeling over he message's the man parts between his legs. " Good hit human...good hit."

Rising up to his full height as he said that. Throm pulls off the scraps on his tusk's and looks down at the man before laughing at him "Aha! you have the heart of a warrior something i rarely see in your kind!" Falling down against a rock he rub's his eye's. And scrambling back to his feet. and in common " I no like your tactics, but you good fighter. You dig cave or not? if not, lets fight together to get out of here....after this i look forward to caving your skull in with my hands." Looking at the man, his fists clenched ready to attack if he tried something funny.

Sighing he looks at the man, " I am going that way, if you with to join me you can but its not being forced." At that he turns and starts walking down the slope, that is gently sloping upwards.
The deep rumble sounded closer this time as the draenei Sefarra woke up and called for her dog. Whatever it was seemed to be attracted to the noise in the chamber. A roar echoed through the caverns as if it was distant, but coming closer. It was something either very big or with a very deep lung capacity. It was followed by a hollow grunting sound as if the beast was sniffing something.

At this point in time, Aevus had been the cautious one and the rats seemed to skitter past him. They might be a little more cautious themselves now since a few of their number had met death. If he is observant he may spot the mushrooms growing here and there. As large as a loaf of bread, and seeming to grow well in the caverns. Against the wall where he crept out from his alcove, a length of staff poked out of the ground at an angle. All he could see was the blank end of it. The rocks and dirt covered the rest, but not too deeply.

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