Day of Ashes (IC)

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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On Board~

"Got ourselves a welcome party at the dock," he shouted to everyone."I don't know if they're friendly or not."

Kialla jumped to her feet with a start as Adrian's call carried across the deck from the command console. She turned, looking out across the water towards the growing docks. The elven huntress came pelting out from the hold only a moment later. It was difficult to tell between pedestrian and the 'company' that Adrian had mentioned from this distance, but Bryah's voice confirmed it.

Suddenly getting off the boat didn't sound like such a wonderful thing. Facing off an elven war-party on the small confines of the boat...particularly while bogged by either injury or exhaustion didn't hold them in favor. While true, they had survived escaping an army, the draenei felt that this might be pushing their luck. She could only pray the Light was still holding them in favor.

Kialla turned from the railing, intent on retrieving her weapons - only to be surprised by the undeathly figure of Sydric bolting right to the front of the boat, nearly knocking her over the railing in the process He barely even seemed to notice or care.

'Damn fel-ridden elf! Why don't you throw yourself over while you-'

The vindicator's thought as she clamped a hand against the metal rail was quickly interrupted as she heard the deathknight's murmuring. Had her skin not already been naturally pale as it was, she surely would have flushed white as the snow they'd been in just three weeks earlier.

She'd known they lusted after such...cruel activities, but never had she been around a deathknight that was deprived and craving as Sydric was. She watched him as the undead elf seemed to be nearly trembling in anticipation. It was very unnerving, and she found herself glancing around for Sandara, wondering if she too was pushed to this point.

Deciding not to test either one, she pushed herself off the railing and headed down to the hold where the rest of her belongings lay. Her greaves and Zherami's shield were next to useless, but the rest of her armor were intact enough for use. She began securing the remaining plated pieces onto herself. There was a fight coming, friendly or not, one look at Sydric told her that.

Booty Bay~

The burly figure of Nathaniel Conant leaned against the wall of the tavern, his eyes fixed on the impressive looking elven war-party. Though it was small, he knew the deadly precision and agility they possessed. Still, something struck it as odd that the elves would stand so in the open. Much of his experience told him they preferred otherwise, to simply ambush their targets unaware, and usually with arrows from a distance.


The voice brought the older paladin from his trance. He turned to see one of his squadron approaching. One of the younger fighters, Belwar walked up next to the major, glancing over at the elven party. His eyes widened at the sight, having never seen an actual war-party himself.

A grin spread across Conant's face as he recognized the awed look in Belwar's eyes. "You stare as if you have never seen an elf before."

Belwar's face split into a grin, his gaze flashing briefly to Nathaniel before settling back upon the elves. "I have, yet, not in such a fashion before. What do you suppose they are doing?"

"Up yonder. My guess is they are waiting for that boat to land." The paladin replied, gesturing up at the approaching silhouette of the flying vessel.

"You don't suppose that's the the ship from the rumors, do you?" Belwar's eyes narrowed as he asked.

Conant merely shrugged. "It could be, though I'd have suspected a more subtle approach would have been used to subdue them. But -" He paused, thinking over the situation. "I'm not an elf." He said at length, looking down at the younger warrior. "Tell the others to meet up here, with their gear. It looks as though our elven friends are expecting a fight of some sort. We should be ready as well, should they be in need of our assistance."

Nodding, Belwar scurried off to inform the other four men in their own party. Conant remained where he was, arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene opening up before him. He did indeed wonder if this was the ship belonging to the assassins... it all seemed a bit strange though. If it was, why had he not been informed?
It had been days since they last saw any sign of the escaping gunship. Peinei Bloodvalor watched through a spyglass as the Pandaren scout flew back to report. Her small elite schooner was built for speed and efficency, but it could not fly.

She had been dispatched by her superiors to capture and return any of the Horde that were involved with the massacre. The had been tracked by a Pandaren on a dragon to a point up the coast north of the compound. But were lost to sight due to the speed of the gunship.

All Peinei knew was they were headed north. She guessed that Booty Bay might be their destination, due to the neutrality of the goblins there. It only made sense they would head to a neutral port. She was still confused though at Sydric's motives. She had known him and the House of Silverhawk for many years. This was not like him, he was loyal to Lor'Themar and was not as bloodthirsty as some were. She knew how hard he worked to control his urges and to take out his hunger on enemies of the Horde.

There were ten elite troops at her command. Five blood knights and three warriors, a hunter and a rogue. All loyal to the Sindorei and her House. The Pandaren scout was hired to search for the group of assassins and had spent many days combing the coast for any sign. He would not go near them, he was not a fool. But he did have a communication device he used to keep Peinei informed.

Three weeks later and she was certain now they were headed for Booty Bay. Based on the nearest land mass and the possibility of refueling. The islands they had scouted were empty, they had wasted several days searching them for any sign of the fugitives.
Marella’s first course of action upon her arrival in Booty Bay was to deposit her belongings at the inn. After hitching her horse outside of it, she walked inside and spoke with the innkeeper.

“I need to rent a room for a week,” she said bluntly.

The innkeeper, a goblin man with glittering red eyes, seemed to size her up. After a few moments, he spoke. “That’ll be a hundred and fourty gold for the seven nights,” he replied. “Plus another fifty gold if you have a mount- seventy-five if it’s mechanical.”

Marella scowled. “Like hell. It won’t take you more than twenty silvers per night for my horse. It isn’t even alive.”

The goblin didn’t seem pleased by this. “I gotta make a prophet, tuts. If I’m just breakin’ even, how’m I sposed to get money?”

“I would suggest getting you get your gold from some other fool. I’ll pay you seventy-five gold at most- eighty, including the horse.” Marella crossed her arms across her chest. Though a one-time merchant herself, she still found goblins more than tiresome. What sort of creature could try to justify the sorts of deals they tried to pull off?

“Sorry hun, I can’t go lowa’ than a hundred.” The goblin said, feigning sympathy.

Marella, while vexed at the thought of spending a hundred gold coins for one week in an inn, managed to give herself some congratulations for bringing down even that low. “A hundred it is then. I’ll leave the job of bringing up my belongings in your capable hands. You should know, though, that I’ll be gone without leaving you a copper if a single item is damaged. Keep the change,” She placed one hundred and one gold pieces on the counter, turned on her heel, and walked out into the warm, sea-side air.

She hoped that the goblin wouldn’t force her to leave by breaking one of her belongings; the prospect of traveling all the way back to the Undercity seven days ahead of schedule was daunting at best. Looking west, Marella wondered if Victor would be encountering any problems in Pandaria. With the Horde in its current state of discourse, she worried that the Alliance would try to seize all of Pandaria.

“Victor survived defecting from the Scourge,” she reasoned. “If he can survive missions in Icecrown, he can bloody well survive Pandaria.”

Turning her gaze from the open seas, Marella was surprised to see a group of night elves gathered on the docks. What in Sylvanas’ name were they up to? Apparently whatever it is was on the horizon, for that was what they seemed so intent on. Looking carefully westward again, the warlock caught sight of an airship headed straight for Booty Bay. Horde, perhaps? That would explain what the night elves were doing there. But the ship didn’t look like one of the goblins’ volatile creations. It looked more similar to the well-designed Alliance vessels. Marella began to cast, summoning her demon from the depths of the nether.

“I despise this realm.” Jax’tharak, her voidwalker minion, complained.

“I don’t give a damn,” Marella snapped. “Something may be happening soon, so I need your support. Be ready to fight, but don’t attack unless I command it.”

“I am your loyal servant, mistress.” Jax said, sounding utterly insincere.

“That isn’t very encouraging.” she retorted.

Leaving Jax to his own devices for the time being, Marella applied her demon armor, preparing for the worst.
Sydric's voice nearly crooned, "Elves...pretty little endearing with their little squeals of pain.."
Bryah looked towards the front of the ship, concern that bordered on fear gripping her. Sydric sounded as if he was about to jump overboard and race towards the elves. There had to be something that could be done. Her eyes roamed the people on the deck until they landed on Sandara. She can withstand his attacks, and it might help her deal with her own hunger. “Mother. We need you for a moment.”

Sandara looked at Bryah, surprised. Her daughter rarely used the word need in a sentence addressed to her. “What do you need Bree?”
Bryah glared at the shortening of her name. “Sydric looks like he's about to lose it. The last thing we need is for him to go into a killing spree, can you keep him occupied for a while?
The death knight grinned. “Consider it done.”

Bryah walked back down the stairs to spend some time with Sammuroth. She didn't like how the druid wasn't handling the enforced rest and wanted to help brighten his spirits a little. Sandara rested on hand on a sword and tapped Sydric on the shoulder. “Brother, we need to spar. Now.”

Not taking no for an answer, she drew her sword and placed it in front of his throat. She leaned in close to his ear. A low menacing growl crept into her voice, giving it a harsh tone. “If you attack those elves, you will make it that much harder for us to fight any rumours about us being assassins. Think about it. We humiliated General von Zinzer by surviving and then taunting him to his holographic face. He's likely to make sure we're blamed for the deaths of the leaders. Now draw your weapon and fight me.” She lowered her sword and stepped back, drawing her second sword and taking a ready stance. Her eyes watched her brother in death carefully, knowing that the hunger would strip his inhibitions and make him deadly.
The hand on his shoulder was cold and Sydric knew who it was before he turned. But that did not stop the deadly glare in his eyes. His hunger was thrumming inside of him with such pain she would surely feel it as she touched him, even through the armor he wore. "You dare to stop me? You will feel my rage then...let it fuel both of not hold back, for I fear my limits are about at an end." his voice harsh and cold.

Part of him knew she was right, part of him felt the hunger in her as well. They had become attuned to each other the last three weeks. He knew her style of fighting was much like his own. His hands were already on his axe handles and he could barely hold himself in check until she drew back. With a roar of defiance he leapt at her, axes swinging, attempting to disarm her and force her back against the railing. If she was not careful they would both end up in the bay.

The clash of steel hitting steel rang through the ship as he pounded at her with more force than he usually did. His eyes blazed with a fury that bordered on berzerker status. He was all over, slamming each axe in a calculated arc to feign and slash. Each axe sharpened and deadly, with hooks on the back to grab at weapons.

He had great respect for her skill, he had found her a very competent fighter. If they had been alive he had no doubt he would be seriously attracted to her for that alone. But at this moment in time he took her blows as if he did not feel them. The clang of steel hitting his armor dented it in places, but he moved with an animal grace that emphasized his elven nature of agility and style. His movements calculated to make her weapons glance off of him rather than penetrate.

He ignored the others, no doubt they saw him as a lost cause, fighting one of their own in a battle like they had not done before. She was good enough to keep him busy with her own skills and he actually felt a bit of the edge coming off as he rained blows on her legs and arms. He knew where she had been injured and part of him instinctively went for that spot.

They danced a clash of weapons down the side of the ship on the walkway. Sydric attempting to drive her over the rails. In his state of mind he might have followed her. The closeness of the hull of the ship gave them both trouble, weapons hitting the hull a few times and making it ring. They grew close to the hatch and he did not even glance down it, though he was aware others were down below.

The approach of a sailing schooner off to the west of them was not swift. It would take an hour or more for them to get close to see who it was. Winds were against them and they could see the gunship, but could not close fast enough. The lookout on the deck of the schooner handed the looking glass to Peinei. "I am convinced it is the gunship, M'Lady. But there appears to be a battle happening on the deck. Perhaps they will not notice our approach?"
Sammuroth was concerned about their welcoming party, and he wasn't sure if it might not be a good idea to stay away from Booty Bay. Still they would have to land at some point, they couldn't stay airborne forever, and they were very conspicuous in such a large airship. The druid wanted to get up, and go up to the deck to see what was happening, but even moving his leg caused him great pain. His desire to go up to the deck heightened when he heard the sounds of fighting, how could he just lie here while his companions were fighting for their lives. He steeled himself, and tried to put his feet under himself, but that simple motion caused him to growl in pain. "Damnit, damnit, damnit, why am I so useless to my allies when they need me most." He looked up as the door opened again, and he hid his face quickly when he saw it was Bryah, for tears had begun to form in his eyes, no need to make them think I am weaker than I already look.

Rubbing his face on his paws, ignoring the pain it caused he asked, "What is going on up there who is fighting, if we are being boarded you should not worry about this useless old cat, the others need you more."
"You dare to stop me? You will feel my rage then...let it fuel both of not hold back, for I fear my limits are about at an end."
“No Brother. I dare stop myself, and I don't plan to hold back.”

Sandara could feel the hunger oozing out of his body as if it were her own. He spoke the truth. His control was almost gone and her own control wasn't far behind it. The sparring match took on a deadly earnest. She knew that they had to get themselves under control or they could do some serious damage to those who had the misfortune of crossing their path.

Her blades met his in a clash of metal that made her ears ring, the force of his blow causing her to struggle as she strove to avoid it hitting her. Her arms bent, absorbing the energy and then reflecting it back. Sydric was an excellent fighter, one that she would be proud to best on a good day. On a day like this, he was difficult to beat. Over the past three weeks, she had gotten to know his fighting style, and could often predict what he was going to do. This time however, he was that much better, more focused, more precise with his strikes.

Even with her knowledge of him, she didn't avoid all his attacks. Some of his attacks hit her, some she even allowed to hit. If she had been living, she would have been in so much pain that she wouldn't be able to stand. Even the pain she did feel helped, as the fury, the pain she saw in his eyes lessened just a little.

But Sandara wasn't fooling herself. She knew that the relief was only temporary. The only thing that would sate the hunger in both of them would be an opportunity to mercilessly torture some poor person that was innocent of any wrong doing. Not much chance of that where they were headed, but she had a plan in her mind. First though, she had to live through the battle.

She could see the open hatch, that led down to the lower deck, out of the corner of her right eye and grinned. The pain she would cause him would be enough to ease her hunger and she almost relished the thought of what would happen. Sandara backed up towards the command area and waited until Sydric was in position with his back to the open hatch. As soon as he was, she dropped her swords and grabbed an upper support beam. She swung her legs back then thudded them into his chest with a force that would have knocked a man twice his size backwards and down the stairs, possibly even causing him to knock his head on the frame of the hatch on his way past.

Sandara swung her legs again and landed on her feet, knees bent to absorb the blow. She bent to retrieve her swords, sheathing them only after she saw that he had been knocked out. “Quick. Find something and chain him up.” She turned and walked around to the other side of the command pit to rest her hands on the outer edge of a console. The position allowed her a brief moment of respite while still being able see anyone that exited the hatch.

“Adrian. I have a request for you. A little to the north of Booty Bay is a beach that has pirates camping on it. These pirates are a constant pain in the butt for the people of Booty Bay, and I'm sure the goblins won't mind if we kill a few of them. Drop us death knights off there so that we can deal with our hunger in a way that won't cause us even more problems. We can fight our way to the beach on the other side of Booty Bay and meet the ship again there.”
"What is going on up there who is fighting, if we are being boarded you should not worry about this useless old cat, the others need you more."

Bryah shook her head and smiled. "There's no fool like an old fool Sam. We're not being boarded. Mother and Sydric are sparring, although this one is more earnest than their other matches. Sydric appears to be on the verge of totally losing control and Mother is not far behind him."

She sat on a mattress near the cat and reached out hesitantly, wanting to stroke away the tears she could see forming in his eyes, then returned her hand to her lap. "You risked your life to save mine when that dwarf was coming straight for me. That is not the action of someone that is old or useless. You only feel that way. I promise you, when we land, I'll find a healer that can mend your bones and you will feel like a completely new cat."

The Farstrider sat with Sammuroth talking for as long as he wanted her company.
A day before the Gun Ship arrived

Limara watched the water she sat beside, the clear depths kept her in a meditative state. She watched as a fish swam at a lazy pace in front of her, where it just sat, swimming around in a circle every so often. Reaching into her waist pouch, Limara pulled out a piece of bread and dropped it into the water, watching as the fish snapped it up before swimming away.

"Hey you." A calm, friendly male voice said behind her.

Limara didn't need to turn around to know who it was; Teron Blacksun was his name, and she his student. "What's up?" She asked, continuing to stare into the clear waters. "We got a job....didn't give me their name, just some mob who wants us to hunt some survivors of some accident that happened up in Kun-Lai in Pandaria."

"Killing survivors of an accident..." Limara repeated, narrowing her eyes "Well that makes no sense." Teron shrugged, turning "Apparently they weren't suppose to be any survivors...must have been some attempt of Assassination I suppose." He let out a chuckle "Guess they messed up so much they had to call in pathetic."

"Either way we still can't go into this taught me that, I'd expect you to follow your own teachings." Limara warned, standing to look at her teacher. "Yea yea..I know...let's gather what we need, then head out. Coin is good at least, so the sooner we get this done the better."

The two then walked up to a shack that they were living in at Booty Bay. Wasn't really that fancy, mostly because the two never really got time to just...sit and relax, so to speak. One job would come in, they'd get it done and have a few days to count coin and spend it before being hired for another job. While Teron packed a few provisions, something caught Limara's eye.

Gem stone, with a necklace near it. She never seen it or taken notice of it until now, but by the looks of was broken. She picked up both and turned to show them to Teron "Hey, what are these? I never noticed it until now..."

The man stopped to look a the half-elf, and then at the necklace "It was a gift from a friend of broke...was thinking of getting rid of it."


Teron fell silent for a moment, his hand paused over a pouch that contained all the gold they'd need to make the journey. Finally, he picked it up and strapped it to his belt "Yes...from her."

Limara never smiled much, but she did so then and stuck both items into her own waist pouch "I think it's nice to hold on to it....I'll even repair it." Teron looked over his shoulder to look at the girl with a raised brow "You sure you can do that?" He asked, sounding dubious. Limara nodded and threw her pack over her shoulder "I can...let's get going, shall we?"


Nishara had found a med kit and had patched up her wounds. Today she was inspecting them, cleaning them, and healing them with a bit of mistweaving. They were healing nicely, luckily there were no bullets ebbed into her flesh, making it a painless patch up considering she didn't have to remove the bullets in the first place. Once she had replaced the bandages, she leaned against the wall of the med room and let out a happy sigh. They had finally gotten away....however the death of her racial leaders still haunted her.

She had spoken with her brother before, he explained how the news had traveled to Darnassus, and was asked by a few other Talons for him to join in a meeting with a few of the Ancients regarding the future of the Kaldorei. He never went into great detail, however, so there was nothing she could exactly report to the others about, specially Sam. Even thought he was a cat, he was still pretty much classified as Kaldorei.

Nish stared at the roof for a moment, wondering what to do when an idea came to her. "I might go check up on Kialla, she how she's doing." Smiling, she pushed herself off the wall and began to walk through the ship until she found where the location of the Draenei woman was. She was in bad shape the last time she saw her, and hopped that she was okay. Thankfully, she seemed to be when she found her, however the sight of her putting her gear on made a hint of doubt cross her mind.

She knocked on the door frame, chirping happily "Knock knock, just me, Nish. What's going on?"


Blood....fresh blood...well..not so fresh anymore.

Renlis had found an empty room where he could have some privacy to himself. He had taken the same body he used as a shield and dumped it here...saving it for when he was out of the anti-magic field. When he felt his powers come to life, so did his thirst for blood, and he exploded the corpse. This same blood now swirled around his arms and the rest of his armor, where they would continue to be ready for use the next time they were in trouble.

For now, the old dead man had his pipe in his mouth, filling the room with smoke. Thankfully he'd be able to refresh his herbs at Booty Bay...or at least that's what he hopped as long as there was no interference. He heard a commotion on the upper levels of the deck and groaned. He'd been cooped up in this room for two days now, probably best the fellow got a bit of...'fresh air'.

When the Death knight opened the door, it'd look like the room was on fire given all the smoke that poured out of it. He didn't give a damn, however, and continued to walk up towards the upper deck just in time to see the two Blood elves sparring each other. It seemed one of them was at breaking point, other making a suggestion about pirates...

At least one of the damn pansies had a right of bloody mind.

Turning to the marksman, he nodded "I second that..give us a time to feed a bit. Once our thirst has been quenched, we'll meet you up in Booty Bay...." He looked into the distance, noticing the elves that waited for them "I'd also suggest getting our Kaldorei girl up here to translate or even try to talk to these Kaldorei...the last thing we wanna do is make them upset more than they probably already the mean time..."

Renlis walked towards the two elves fighting, the blood suddenly swirling around his arms more violently. He'd suddenly step between the two, blocking any other attack the Sydric might throw the girl's a strange way. The blood swirled around his gauntlet, and hardened. The next time Sydric would attack, Renlis would block it with the blood. It seemed that the blood had hardened as hard as iron. This was his power, this is why he was a Blood Death Knight...he'd take the blood of his foes and turned it into a weapon - not only to sustain himself, but to use against their own body.

"You've got some fury in those burning eyes of yours...the girl's plan for Pirates to sustain you is a logical one...let's fuel that hunger, shall we?" He'd attempt to push the man back, grinning "I'll be your sparing partner for now...I've managed to feed myself a little bit, so I'm not as COME ON! Ye bloody knife eared nut case...throw everything you have at me, I won't even use my swords for this!" He grinned and took a stance "I used to be the man that would adapt to different situations...don't think just because I'm dead don' mean it's changed!"

Adrian sat at the controls of the ship, drumming his fingers on either side of it. Lost in thought, he blankly watched Booty Bay draw closer. Everyone was moving around in a blur around him, going to observe their progress, their greeting party or any other activity. He paid no attention.

Sydric was becoming more and more irate as the minutes passed, giving caution to the rest. But soon enough he and Sandara were scuffing each other up, in an attempt to contain him. Going along the deck of the ship, she soon got the advantage on him and knocked out the man.

His eyes feeling heavy, he rubbed them again. Sandara came to the control pit. Her words to Adrian were a muffled mess of confusion. He stared at her for a few moments confused while Renlis also made his way to the controls. His words were more clear now that he was semi-alert. They wanted him to change course so they could deal with some pirates for their needs.

"Yes.. yes I can, uh. I can do that yeah." he stammered out. "Go gather your necessary equipment and I'll have you there in about twenty minutes." he faced the controls and began increasing the speed while diverting the course to go north of booty bay. He eyed the group of elves again with a prepared glare. He drew out his revolver and cracked it open, satisfied that it was loaded. He did the same with his rifle, lifting it up and dropping the magazine, it being full as well. He locked it back in and yanked back the charging handle, chambering a round and prepared for a fight.
"There's no fool like an old fool Sam. We're not being boarded. Mother and Sydric are sparring, although this one is more earnest than their other matches. Sydric appears to be on the verge of totally losing control and Mother is not far behind him."

It figured, of course it had only been a matter of time before one of the death knights started to lose it, sometimes he wondered how Dalfein went as long as he did without breaking down into an unholy frenzy. Even though th enews wasn't technically good the druid was relieved they weren't being boarded, but his relief did nothing to ease his anger, and frustration at his current predicament. He watched the girl sit down on a nearby mattress, she was close enough that there was no way for him to hide his forming tears. She reached out hesitantly whether to wipe away the tears or to put a reassuring hand on his back he didn't know, but even as she returned that hand to her lap, her gesture made him smile. How many times had Lori done the same when the "other" caused him to have nightmares, when he had come so close to losing himself, at those times he was just as down on himself as he was now.

"You risked your life to save mine when that dwarf was coming straight for me. That is not the action of someone that is old or useless. You only feel that way. I promise you, when we land, I'll find a healer that can mend your bones and you will feel like a completely new cat."

"I couldn't just sit there and watch you die, I have seen far too many young people suffer, and die in war, both the neccessary, and foolish ones. I didn't want your face burned into my mind as someone I watched die, and if, in the process I had been the one to die, I would have died content in the fact that at least I was able to save one person from the same fate." While he spoke the faces of those he had seen die had risen up in his mind, and nothing he did could stop the tears from finally flowing. He did his best to compose himself, "I am sorry, here you are trying to cheer me up, and I am not making it easy on you. You know you remind me a little of my student, she refuses to leave me when I am like this, doing whatever she can to cheer me up. Whether it be wiping away the tears, or just stroking my head, of course I would never impose upon you the need to do that."

Lori &Dalfein

After what seemed like hours to Lori, in reality it had only been about five minutes, the girl stopped crying, she looked up into the death knight's face, and even though his face was covered in blood, she felt safe with the man she called uncle. Dalfein smiled down at her, and patted her head, "Come on we need to get moving we are only a few hours away from Booty Bay." Lori nodded, and the two set off through the jungle, the remainder of their travel was uneventful, and as the sun rose, Booty Bay came into view. Lori sighed, "Finally, do you think shan'do is there," the death knight patted her shoulder, "I don't know my dear, but we will find out, and if he is we will get him to safety." This had been their plan from the beginning to find Sammuroth, and spirit him away to someplace safe, somewhere remote, where no one would look for him.

The girl looked at Dalfein, "You know he won't want to run away and hide," the man smiled, "I know, but even he can't fight the Horde, Alliance, and whoever else is looking for him alone, he will see the wisdom in our plan." Lori was still not convinced, but she never-the-less muttered, "I hope so," as she followed Dalfein into the goblin run city. This place was definitely not to her liking, it smelled horrible, and she was never really very fond of goblins to begin with. Still this was where their intel had led them, so it was worth checking out, it didn't take long for them to hear word of an airship being spotted heading straight for the city.

Lori sat on the edge of one of the plank made walkways, watching the horizon, if she squinted just right she could see a speck in the distance getting closer. She truly hope her master, and adopted father was on that speck, the sound of footsteps approaching turned her head to look up at Dalfein. The look on his face told her it was not good news, "What's wrong," the death knight simply pointed to a dock. As she turned to look her face grew pale, a fully outfitted elven war party, she turned back to Dalfein panic written all over her face. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder, "I heard from some of the dock workers that they believe the "assassins" are on the approaching airship, they are here to either kill or capture them." Lori shook her head, "They can't really believe father would do something like that," the death knight sighed, "whoever is framing the occupants of that ship are thorough. Most likely they have someone on the inside stirring up the people, and the government, I can't be sure of that though, but if the assassins took out high ranking political leaders such a tactic makes sense. After all someone had to convince those leaders that going to the peace summit was a good idea."

Lori returned her gaze to the elven war party, "What do we do," she whispered, a hand on her shoulder turned her around to see Dalfein's smiling face. "Don't worry Sam is the smartest tactician I know, he probably already suspects all of this, there is no way he would let the ship land in Booty Bay, for now we will watch, and wait to see what happens." The plan didn't sit well with the druid girl, but she also knew that Dalfein was right, she nodded her head, and returned her gaze to the horizon.
Her armor dented, scarred, and bearing holes, Kialla was finding it rather difficult to strap herself into the metal cage. She fiddled with the straps, and placement of the breastplate, but no matter how she tried, the dents kept digging into various spots on her torso. Finally annoyed to her wits end, she tossed it aside with an exasperated sigh.

"Knock knock, just me, Nish. What's going on?"

Kialla spun around as Nishara's slim figured stepped through the cubby's door frame. She recognized the monk immediately, recalling the fuzzy memory of the elf helping her to the boat on the night of their escape. Much to her embarrassment, Nishara's presence on the boat during the trip had all but slipped from her mind. But then, she'd hardly spent any time reaching out to any of her comrades during their trip. She'd only recently been invigorated enough to venture onto the deck for any length of time.

Seeing the confusion flicker across Nishara's otherwise cheerful visage, Kialla merely shook her head. She held up the enchanted mace and pointed up at the deck above them with it. The sounds of Sandara and Sydric scuffling with each-other were already resounding through the wooden structure.

'Sydric'. She lip-synced the deathknights name as she furrowed her brow at the sound of fighting. She hadn't felt the ship come to a stop yet, so it wasn't the elven band. She suspected the deathknight had lost the last of his restraint as he salivated over the greeting party that was awaiting their landing.

Whatever it was, she decided to go take a look. Nodding at the monk to follow, she started past and towards the stairway leading to the bridge. Most of the noise seemed to be coming from near the front of the ship as Sandara and Sydric's steps scuffled across the planks. Noting it, the draenei turned and ducked down a passageway leading to the forward hatch. She could see the shadows of the two combatants flickering in the light streaming from the outside.

Barely had she reached the bottom of the hatch, the shadows suddenly grew quickly in size blocking the outside light. Several thuds followed, and Kialla jumped back as the deathknight's limp body toppled down the hatchway, collapsing in an unglorified heap at her feet.

“Quick. Find something and chain him up.” Sandara's hollow voice rang out from aboard the deck.

Chains weren't exactly plentiful as the warrior dug through one of the storage rooms nearby, but there was rope. It seemed plenty strong, though was well worn. Snatching up the long length of it, she hurried back over to Sydric's unconcious form. Cautiously kneeling over him, she rolled him over onto his stomach so she could position his arms behind him. She half expected the undead knight to suddenly spring back up and try choking the life out of her.
She removed his plated gauntlets and started looping the rope several times around his wrists. Just the touch of his cold body sent shivers down her spine, and visions of his icy blue eyes glaring shot through her head.

'Light knows we should just end you here, your soul probably weeps for freedom...and redemption.' She thought to herself as she went about her work of restraining him. Several minutes went by and a few attempts before she felt comfortable the knots would hold him. When he woke, she knew his withdrawls would be strong as ever, and who know what strength he truely possessed in his necrotic powered body.

Her work done, she drug him back to the room where she'd been staying. There she at least had one of the mattresses, and though vicious as he was, he was merely a victim of his condition, not a prisioner, and didn't deserve to be left on the floor. He had, after all, nearly sacrificed his life to help them escape.
Nirus stood in the center of the dockside warehouse his men had temporarily rented from Baron Revilgaz. The captain of the company he was leading stood next to him, watching with more than a touch of trepidation as two of his men hauled a helmetless and struggling Warden into the building: from the looks on their faces, the curses and threats she had been lavishing on them were quite bloodcurdling.

"Let me go this instant! I am an officer of the Wardens, and I will not suffer this indignity lightl-" Her words were abruptly cut off when Nirus took a step forward, bringing himself within arm's reach of the Night Elf. The man beneath the cowl spoke a single word, brimming with quite power and malice.

"silence." The Warden's jaw worked several times more before she realized that no sounds were coming out. Nirus nodded slowly and began slowly walking around the prisoner. His next words were far more mundane, but still carried a menacing hiss.

"Do you have any idea what your idiocy has cost us? Had the airship landed, we might have been able to track the movements of these assassins and brought them to justice. Instead, you stood on the docks in broad daylight, scaring them off and eliminating the chance of catching them quickly. I am not in any way happy that my entire company was brought here all the way from Stormwind, only to be told that you had lost the trail." The inquisitor stopped in front of the Warden officer.

"The one bright spot in this entire debacle is that we know the assassins are using an airship of a class we haven't seen before. And at least one of your Sentinels was attentive enough that she was able to positively identify at least one of the assassins. But there can only be one price for failure." The inquisitor nodded to the soldiers holding the Warden. "Release her." As the two soldiers let go of the Warden's arms, Nirus stepped forward and gripped her by the throat, bringing his head in close to hers in a manner that the captain thought was entirely too viperlike for comfort.

"look - at - me." The Night Elf ceased struggling and her eyes widened as she stared at whatever lay under Nirus' hood. "I - see - you." The Warden began screaming, a terrified cry of pure, unadulterated fear. The Night Elf's hands, oh so slowly, began rising, trembling, to the head of their transfixed owner. Bare hands formed into talons as the Warden clutched her head in her hands and began pressing. Nirus kept his head bare inches away from hers, watching dispassionately as the Night Elf's skull began to make popping noises. And then, with a loud crunching sound, the Warden went limp and her hands fell away from the bloodied ruin of her head. Nirus released his grip on her, letting the corpse fall away.

"Bring in the others." he said coldly to the other soldiers. The two footmen, their faces ashen as they stared at the Warden's body, nodded jerkily and ran out of the warehouse. Moments later, they returned, bringing Major Conant and his squad, Lori, Dalfein, Limara, Teron, and Marella.

"These are all of the ones who were reported hanging around the docks when the airship attempted to dock." one of the escorts said. Nirus nodded and dismissed the other soldiers, who promptly fell back into the ranks assembled at the back of the warehouse.

"So this is what it has come to. Major Conant." his voice snapped. "By the authority granted to me by King Anduin, I hereby order you to place you and your squad under my command until the assassins we are pursuing are brought to justice. Prepare to move out to the camp we have set up outside of Booty Bay. The captain will give you the location. As for the rest..." Nirus' tone took on a verbal sneer.

"Mercenaries, druids, Death Knights, and a Forsaken warlock. Well, we technically have a truce right now and necessity knows no faction. I am hunting down the remaining survivors of the traitors that killed most of the leaders of Azeroth. If you wish to join me, we leave immediately. If not..." Nirus gestured with a black-gloved hand at the corpse of the Warden officer.
Absalom has sighted their ship. They are coming.

So soon? I had thought that it would take them longer.

If they were predictable, I doubt they would have survived this far.

True. Prepare for boarding. Have Lilith greet them.

Parameters of exposure?

Low. Let's try to keep the less stable aspects from revealing themselves too soon.

That will prove... taxing. We will not be anywhere approaching full strength.

Do it anyway. Designate the usual two, Marduk, Lilith, Absalom, and... Uriel.

Uriel? If I didn't know better, I would think I had misheard.

You heard me right. Are the preparations complete?

Yes. The gunship is making their final approach now.

As soon as they touch down, burn out their tracking glyph.

It shall be done.

The gunship approached the outpost and circled twice, no doubt to get a good look at the origin of the distress call. The outpost itself had five stories and was almost flush with the waves. It was a giant square with dull, silvery armor covering each side. Off to the north-facing side there were several pads sized perfectly for the gunship, each one emblazoned with a large white A. The landing pads were slightly elevated and covered the northern fourth of the outpost. Stacks of crates, machinery, and stacked metal barrels covered the "roof". At the south end a large rectangular office-like building rose two stories above the roof level, and on the east end there was a collection of large smokestacks jutting from below: there was no smoke for some reason.

Of far more interest than the outpost were the bodies strewn around. Piled next to crates, flopped over railings, sprawled in nearly any manner conceivable, bodies in grey uniforms and dark green armor were scattered about the main deck. If one looked closely, they could see brief flickers of movement out of the corner of their eye, but every time they tried focusing on it, the movement ceased. As soon as the gunship touched down on one of the pads, the silvery glyph in front of the magitech communicator flared a hot white and died, leaving behind a few charred black lines.
Standing at the console of the ship, Adrian watched the scenery quietly. He had opted to pass Booty Bay to avoid a conflict. After several moments, a smattering of static came over the communications array on the control panel. A distress sequence was being sent out and reached the gunship. Adrian tried tuning in the static and could make out most of what was said, as well as their location.

Dialing in the coordinates, he adjusted course and turned rather sharply. He set off in the direction of the post, about 30 kilometers off the course of Stranglethorn. They'd arrive soon, but they had enough time to prepare themselves. He went over to the railing overlooking the deck and leaned over, "Got a distress call from an outpost. I set us on course. Figured we could be of any aid, and the death knights could get their fix on what ever is going on." he said to everyone, "get yourselves ready, we'll be arriving shortly."

He ran down the stairs to the storage area. He picked up his plate vest and threw it over his shoulders. He didn't bother with his camouflage jacket. Just wearing his pants, tank top and vest. He got back up to the panel and picked up his rifle, cinching the sling in tightly to his chest.


Approaching the outpost, he circled around it twice. He couldn't see any movement down below. He brought the ship to a slow speed and began the descent to one of the landing pads. Setting it down gently, he let the engines run idle in case they needed to make a swift escape. Once they touched down, the communication pad at his feet flared white hot and scorched the floor. Puzzled, he put it out of his mind for the time being.

He ripped the charging handle of his rifle back and chambered a round, sprinting down the stairs and off the ship. He dove to a prone position to secure the immediate area around the ship. Seeing nothing, he rose to a knee and stood. He saw no one except for the bodies strewn about. He went down the walk way onto the main platform and stopped next to one of the bodies hanging over the railing.

Grabbing the shoulder of the corpse, he flipped it over to face him. Just a soldier. Grey uniform, green armor. But certainly dead, as well as all of his friends.

A flicker in the corner of Adrian's eye. Without a hint of hesitation, he swiveled on his heel, throwing the safety catch to the fire position and squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession. His weapon barked in fury, the two slugs passing simply by nothing. Nothing was even there. He lowered his weapon in astonishment and reengaged his safety. He rubbed his eyes, thinking it was up to his exhaustion. He stood at the bottom of the walkway, facing the main structure of the outpost.

"To find out the most information we could probably be on checking the two main structures. Maybe find some officers and see if they have journals." he said to everyone.
Limara and Teron

Limara leaned against the wall, bored, while tossing a throwing knife up and down with her hand. Teron would have been busy adjusting his glove and metal claw, making sure it looked...decent..for killing things. Finally, the half-elf sighed and slid her knife back into one of the many hidden pouches of her leather armor "How long are we suppose to wait out here again? I'm getting pretty tired of this..."

"Patience, Limara....I'm sure our employer will call us in soon. He's simply having a chat with that Kaldorei Warden we saw earlier..." Just as Teron answered, the sound of screaming reached their ears. Both looked up towards the source of the noise, and after a few moments, the screams stopped "Having a 'chat'...seems to be an understatement." Limara said, pushing off the wall as two guards came and called the group in.

Both were both surprised and not so surprised when they saw the dead body, however said nothing as they stood next to each other and looked over the man that stood before them. Obviously, he was the Warden's killer, but the two had done enough jobs to know that...when you see a dead corpse near the person who just killed them, that person had high expectations. Meaning, screwing this up was not an option.

Of course, the two could just vanish and avoid all contact in case things grew sour, but there was a lot of coin involved in this job, and Teron didn't want to pass up the opportunity.

The 'terms' - if one were to even call them that - where pretty straight forward. Join and get paid, or die a horrible death. It was something the two Assassins were used to. Limara's azure eyes glanced up at Teron, who stood silently looking at the man, or looking 'through' him "What do you think....I mean if he was able to kill a Warden.."

"Wardens were always weak. You and I could fight one easily...and just because he killed one doesn't really make any difference. We are here to work, get paid, and go home happy. That's all there is to it..." Teron glanced at the woman "So don't worry."

"Wasn't worrying." Limara replied calmly "It was just an observation."

Smiling, Teron looked back over to the man "Consider us in. Not to worry...we'll have your little 'Assassins' dead in no you prefer heads or fingers for necklaces?" Limara nudged her mentor in the ribs with her elbow "I don't think he's a troll, Teron...necklaces are not an option."

Teron shrugged "You never know.." With that, the two walked through the portal and arrived back at Booty Bay. While they waited for the rest, Limara glanced up to Teron "You know...if these guys were 'Assassins'...why on earth would they be riding a giant Air ship out of all modes of transportation? Seems like a huge target on the back of their head."

Teron patted the half-elf on the head and smiled under his mask "Because, honey, some people just aren't smart enough to be good Assassins...if they are truly that idiotic..then killing them would be more easier than a buzzing fly."


Nishara followed the Draenei, making small skips here and there as they made their way up to the bridge. It was there that when Kia opened the door, one of the Blood elf Death Knights suddenly topped out in a limp heap. At first, she thought the man was dead, but know...he was simply unconscious. While Kia when to get something to tie the Knight up, Nish kept an eye on the man until she came back in case he woke up.

Kia came back with some rope to bind the Knights hands and begin to drag the man towards the room she was staying in. Nish followed, not wanting to leave the Draenei woman alone with the Death Knight. "This worries me.." she started as Kia placed him on the mattress "..if he doesn't satisfy his hunger soon...what will happen when we meet potential allies? They would think twice when they find out that we have a blood thirsty Death Knight in our ranks..."

She frowned as she eyed Sydric, whispering to herself "Well...guess we will find out soon enough, won't we?"

-----Time Skip, WHO-HA-HA!-------

Nish & Renlis

Renlis looked out the window of the Bridge at the outpost. Bodies littered the floor of the outpost.....this was good for him at least, it meant more blood to sustain him. When his hunger to cause pain was getting to much, he'd use the blood to satisfy his hunger. This blood also was kept at standby for a potential weapon, or to feed his blood worms which he had crawling inside him along side his organs which he had no potential use of any more.

Nish simply stood in the back, inspecting her fans and making sure there was no grit or grime that she had missed when cleaning them. She wanted them to look impressive for when they meet any new potential allies. As soon as the air ship landed, the communicator that the ship had suddenly burnt out. Nish yelped and raised her fans, Renlis whirled around with his hands on his sword, but there was no danger, just the rune above the magitech communicator was just...burnt...leaving nothing left.

Sighing, Nish lowered her fans, and Renlis lowered his hands from the hilts of his blades. When they came off the air ship, Adrian suggest to find any sort of information from the two structures or officers that lead the now very dead men. Nodding, Nish grinned "I'll check out the structure over there, remember to shout if you find anything...and watch each other's backs. Any her could be some sort of trap. For all we know that Cabal was here and left some friends behind..."

Renlis nodded "Aye...knife ears there be right. Check your six, don't let your guard down..." The man could feel the glare he got from the young Kaldorei, but ignored it and began to walk over to one of the bodies on the floor. It was female, and unmoving. While they were here, Renlis could at least try to find out what happen to the soldiers, and how they died, perhaps use their bodies to extract blood for later use.

He gave the body a look over before gently flipping her on her back. What he found surprised him. There was no blood, no signs of any sort of stab wound, nothing. She was squeak clean despite the dirt that got on their cloths from laying on the ground. "This don't make any sense...." The old man said, looking over the woman another two times "Perhaps a chemical weapon?...Nah...there would be some kind of chemical burn of discoloration of the skin if that were the case...perhaps poisoned food?...I'll need a blood sample for that..."

Renlis pondered a bit longer, but before he'd even try for a blood sample, he placed his hand on the woman's stomach and closed his eyes. Given his specialty with blood, he would be able to track any sort of movement. From the veins to organs and even the heart, he listened for movement...

The room spun crazily as Syd came out of the haze of his blackout. He groaned loudly and tried to move. He was however trussed up like a dangerous prisoner. His icy blue eyes swivel around and fix on Kialla. With a low growl he struggled a bit, "Why am I tied? Do you fear me Draenei? Perhaps with good reason..." his concentration went back to the ropes around his wrist. No matter how he struggled he was caught.

"Where are we, have we landed at Booty Bay yet? The hunger in me is nearly overwhelming, I must do something...anything to take the edge off. I have never gone so long without the opportunity to sate it. Dam Arthas! I was not like this before the Scourge...I was a peace loving scholar of the arcane!" his voice full of hatred for Arthas and the unlife he has lived so far.

The ship seemed to be landing somewhere and he could hear Adrian's voice. "What is happening, draenei? If I am to sate this I need something now...please untie me, I can manage to control it briefly until I am faced with an enemy, a corpse even to create a ghoul. Dam it! At least take me to where I can get my weapons, my axes. " his voice takes on a pleading edge. His eyes blaze in pain and agony. He struggles to his feet, she neglected to tie them. His ankle is twisted at an odd angle, and he struggles to lean against the wall, lifting his twisted foot up and shaking it.

"If you would at least help so I can fix that. I am not hurting from that, if you straighten it I can mend it. Just twist it back to a semblance of normal." he hesitates a moment and grits his teeth before adding, "Please.."

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