...
I... I don't even...
I feel like I'm being unfairly treated here!
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"Oh, I do not intend to sit idle... " Sharon answered nonchalantly as he opened one of his drawers, pulling out a preserved flask of Alterac wine and a glass.
"As you may know, I have every motivation and encouragement to chase them down, beyond merely the moral value of fighting for justice against evil. They have been painting targets on my back and sending all sorts of assassins and thugs at me."
Pouring himself a glass of wine with the bottle, he placed it on the desk. Motioning for Greymoon to ask if the noble wanted to have a taste, the man quickly nodded before Frederick suddenly appeared behind him, handing the human noble a drink.
Sitting down in his office chair, still wearing his armor and heavy wizard robes, Sharon raised his glass to Marshall before taking a small sip.
"You may have heard rumors that I am a man of adventure and patron of excitement, but; each man eventually reach a point where all the excitement in their life simply becomes too much." Sharon said jokingly, before leaning back in his large leather chair.
"I think I am at that point right now."
Sharon said, before tilting his head to stare out across his room. It was still rather gloomy in the office, as Frederick had only managed to light half of the candles. The High Elf moved his free hand up to his chin, rubbing his jaw with his glove as he gazed into the air with a thoughtful look on his face.
"I... don't think this is the official cult. I think they are ex members." The High Elf pondered, turning his head back to Marshall.
"My brother left the Scourge after the Lich King's fall. I doubt he's still serving his dead king's incorporeal spirit or something like that. I know he's definitely recruiting... "
"We killed one of the cultists." Richard said, sitting with one leg over the corner of Sharon's desk.
"He was one of my men. Or, he had been. I thought him dead for a long time, until he suddenly showed up in a heretical ritual chamber beneath the city."
"Ah, yes. The place." Sharon said, suddenly remembering Marshall's original question.
"In the sewer beneath the Old District. We found a room. Ritual markers and animal bones all over. It looked more like a place of teaching rather than to build an actual army. It seemed like class was already over when we had arrived."
"Smart of your brother to use animal bones." Greymoon stated, downing his glass of wine before moving a hand up to stroke his white beard.
"People would be asking questions if bodies started disappearing from the graveyard. Nobody would suspect anything if someone bought some of the remains from a butcher shop. It's the season after all, plenty of fresh animal carcasses around this time of the year."
"As you may know, I have every motivation and encouragement to chase them down, beyond merely the moral value of fighting for justice against evil. They have been painting targets on my back and sending all sorts of assassins and thugs at me."
Pouring himself a glass of wine with the bottle, he placed it on the desk. Motioning for Greymoon to ask if the noble wanted to have a taste, the man quickly nodded before Frederick suddenly appeared behind him, handing the human noble a drink.
Sitting down in his office chair, still wearing his armor and heavy wizard robes, Sharon raised his glass to Marshall before taking a small sip.
"You may have heard rumors that I am a man of adventure and patron of excitement, but; each man eventually reach a point where all the excitement in their life simply becomes too much." Sharon said jokingly, before leaning back in his large leather chair.
"I think I am at that point right now."
Sharon said, before tilting his head to stare out across his room. It was still rather gloomy in the office, as Frederick had only managed to light half of the candles. The High Elf moved his free hand up to his chin, rubbing his jaw with his glove as he gazed into the air with a thoughtful look on his face.
"I... don't think this is the official cult. I think they are ex members." The High Elf pondered, turning his head back to Marshall.
"My brother left the Scourge after the Lich King's fall. I doubt he's still serving his dead king's incorporeal spirit or something like that. I know he's definitely recruiting... "
"We killed one of the cultists." Richard said, sitting with one leg over the corner of Sharon's desk.
"He was one of my men. Or, he had been. I thought him dead for a long time, until he suddenly showed up in a heretical ritual chamber beneath the city."
"Ah, yes. The place." Sharon said, suddenly remembering Marshall's original question.
"In the sewer beneath the Old District. We found a room. Ritual markers and animal bones all over. It looked more like a place of teaching rather than to build an actual army. It seemed like class was already over when we had arrived."
"Smart of your brother to use animal bones." Greymoon stated, downing his glass of wine before moving a hand up to stroke his white beard.
"People would be asking questions if bodies started disappearing from the graveyard. Nobody would suspect anything if someone bought some of the remains from a butcher shop. It's the season after all, plenty of fresh animal carcasses around this time of the year."
Oh, sorry. I do not mean to create any pressure, hah. Don't treat me like I'm some Judge Dredd :)
It's one thing the releases of Aliens: Colonial Marines and Duke Nukem: Forever has taught me, and that is never to judge a product based on the length of its production.
It's one thing the releases of Aliens: Colonial Marines and Duke Nukem: Forever has taught me, and that is never to judge a product based on the length of its production.
I would be careful about what you say to her, Rithy.
Remember, Liaena is after all writing an evil plot directed at your little elves, possibly in her very next post. Think of the collateral damage, something a Li-Ops often tend to include.
How much extra motivation do you want to give her? :P
"That's a very nice Night Elven warband you have there... would be a shame if something were to happen to it."
Remember, Liaena is after all writing an evil plot directed at your little elves, possibly in her very next post. Think of the collateral damage, something a Li-Ops often tend to include.
How much extra motivation do you want to give her? :P
"That's a very nice Night Elven warband you have there... would be a shame if something were to happen to it."
"I will. But first, let us return to my study. It is a long story." Sharon explained as he walked after Marshall. Though the human was old and seemingly looking very frail, the holy man marched up the stair with a zeal and determination like he was a soldier. Greymoon followed shortly behind, carrying the satchel with him across his shoulder. But the old nobleman had not managed to go far before Frederick had swooped in from the side, masterfully sweeping the satchel off Greymoon's back with a "Let me carry that", before walking side by side with the rest of the group.
Sharon guided the group through the many corridors of the mansion until they reached his own office.
Upon arriving at the white wooden door, Sharon stepped forward and retrieved a key from his robe that he used to unlock the door. Although he did not think that any assassin would be foolish enough to attempt to enter his work space with an entire Night Elven warband guarding his house, Sharon did not want the elves' relentless party to spread to his office either.
"Frederick, the arcaneum, is it,-"
"It is locked, Master Sharon. It was the first thing I did when the girls downstairs began their festivities."
Frederick answered in his usual professionally calm manner, and Sharon let out a mental sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was the Night Elves to trash around with the magical artifacts in his arcaneum. Assuming they did not react to the fact that it was a room full of magical stuff and promptly tried to set it on fire for its blasphemous, having them play around in it while intoxicated would have been disastrous nonetheless.
The arcaneum was dark and empty. The candles were unlit, and the small fireplace by the wall was cold. In the majestic window behind Sharon's desk, the snow was gently falling against the glass, while the sky outside seemed to grow darker by the minute with the coming of the night.
The room was much colder than the rest of the building, but Frederick had already set off to remedy that, picking up a small box of matches as he left the satchel by the desk to go to light the candles and fireplace.
"Let me ask you something, Marshall. What do you know of the Scourge?" Sharon asked as the three remaining men walked towards his empty desk.
"Or more specifically, the Cult of the Damned?"
"Fuck me... it feels like I've been driven over by a Dwarven Steam Tank, which then reversed, and then drove over me again. Gaaaahhh... "
Donald was slowly coming back to conscience, the assassin raising a hand up to his aching forehead to touch his sensitive skin. Every bone and muscle in his body ached, and he had a searing pain coming from his joints. With his eyes closed, he took a deep breath whole holding his hand up to his forehead.
"I seriously need to stop drinking that heavily... this is what happens everytime! Dear light, please tell me that I've not done something stupid this time!"
But as Donald slowly opened his eyes, he suddenly saw two giant, purple buttocks in front of him that took up almost his entire view. Every mental process in the assassin's head immediately grinded to a halt at the sight, before he looked up and saw a massive inebriated Night Elf tramping about as she walked past him, all the while leaning dangerously to either side and carrying a goblet full of wine in her hand.
However, the giant Night Elf's attempt to traverse the room quickly turned into a disaster when her foot accidentally hit a sleeping Night Elf, and the giant elf fell headfirst into the carpet with a loud bang, spilling her own wine all over herself.
Donald merely stared dumbfounded down at the massive elf currently lying on its belly on the floor, before he looked around himself and noticed that the entire world was huge in comparison to him. Or, was it he who had shrunk?!
The room was full of noise and voices, filled to the brim with Night Elves all around him. Donald quickly realized that one of said Night Elves was holding him, constricting him and preventing him from moving his lower body.
"Oh Donald, Donald, Donald... you've really done it this time! Light save me, Astrid is gonna be so PISSED!"
"Uh... ahem! Listen... sweetheart." Donald turned around, peering up at the Night Elf who was currently holding him, Shani.
"I am afraid I have made a grave mistake. And, I don't mean to be here... actually, I already have a girl, and she will be really angry if I don't return to her. I'm sorry if I told you anything else, I've been a real idiot, heh... eh-heh... ehhm, which way to the exit?"
Sharon guided the group through the many corridors of the mansion until they reached his own office.
Upon arriving at the white wooden door, Sharon stepped forward and retrieved a key from his robe that he used to unlock the door. Although he did not think that any assassin would be foolish enough to attempt to enter his work space with an entire Night Elven warband guarding his house, Sharon did not want the elves' relentless party to spread to his office either.
"Frederick, the arcaneum, is it,-"
"It is locked, Master Sharon. It was the first thing I did when the girls downstairs began their festivities."
Frederick answered in his usual professionally calm manner, and Sharon let out a mental sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was the Night Elves to trash around with the magical artifacts in his arcaneum. Assuming they did not react to the fact that it was a room full of magical stuff and promptly tried to set it on fire for its blasphemous, having them play around in it while intoxicated would have been disastrous nonetheless.
The arcaneum was dark and empty. The candles were unlit, and the small fireplace by the wall was cold. In the majestic window behind Sharon's desk, the snow was gently falling against the glass, while the sky outside seemed to grow darker by the minute with the coming of the night.
The room was much colder than the rest of the building, but Frederick had already set off to remedy that, picking up a small box of matches as he left the satchel by the desk to go to light the candles and fireplace.
"Let me ask you something, Marshall. What do you know of the Scourge?" Sharon asked as the three remaining men walked towards his empty desk.
"Or more specifically, the Cult of the Damned?"
"Fuck me... it feels like I've been driven over by a Dwarven Steam Tank, which then reversed, and then drove over me again. Gaaaahhh... "
Donald was slowly coming back to conscience, the assassin raising a hand up to his aching forehead to touch his sensitive skin. Every bone and muscle in his body ached, and he had a searing pain coming from his joints. With his eyes closed, he took a deep breath whole holding his hand up to his forehead.
"I seriously need to stop drinking that heavily... this is what happens everytime! Dear light, please tell me that I've not done something stupid this time!"
But as Donald slowly opened his eyes, he suddenly saw two giant, purple buttocks in front of him that took up almost his entire view. Every mental process in the assassin's head immediately grinded to a halt at the sight, before he looked up and saw a massive inebriated Night Elf tramping about as she walked past him, all the while leaning dangerously to either side and carrying a goblet full of wine in her hand.
However, the giant Night Elf's attempt to traverse the room quickly turned into a disaster when her foot accidentally hit a sleeping Night Elf, and the giant elf fell headfirst into the carpet with a loud bang, spilling her own wine all over herself.
Donald merely stared dumbfounded down at the massive elf currently lying on its belly on the floor, before he looked around himself and noticed that the entire world was huge in comparison to him. Or, was it he who had shrunk?!
The room was full of noise and voices, filled to the brim with Night Elves all around him. Donald quickly realized that one of said Night Elves was holding him, constricting him and preventing him from moving his lower body.
"Oh Donald, Donald, Donald... you've really done it this time! Light save me, Astrid is gonna be so PISSED!"
"Uh... ahem! Listen... sweetheart." Donald turned around, peering up at the Night Elf who was currently holding him, Shani.
"I am afraid I have made a grave mistake. And, I don't mean to be here... actually, I already have a girl, and she will be really angry if I don't return to her. I'm sorry if I told you anything else, I've been a real idiot, heh... eh-heh... ehhm, which way to the exit?"
As he entered through the front door, the first thing Sharon noticed was how the doors seemed brand new. No doubt it was part of the ever so efficient Frederick who had managed to get the old, broken ones replaced since they had left in the morning. The new doors looked significantly more sturdy, and Sharon noticed the delicate metallic patterns on the door might just as well serve as extra barricade as they were decorations.
"Master Daerin'Lei has been away on private errands. Discretion is the,-"
"I can handle it from here."
Sharon interrupted Frederick, and the human butler looked over to the High Elf before nodding in acknowledge. The High Elf turned to Marshall, before motioning towards the group behind him.
"We have been out chasing evils in the City. Greymoon, would you come over here?" Sharon said, motioning for Lord Greymoon to step over to him. The noble approached, holding up the satchel that he had carried from the sewer. Pulling it open, Sharon reached his arm down into it to retrieve the shaft of a dark wood, twisted staff. It was part of what had once been the black mage, Sevarian's staff. Sharon held it up so that Marshall could see it clearly.
"Taken from a dark mage we encountered in our search. We found it alongside an assortment of unholy books, scripts and relics." Sharon explained, motioning towards the satchel that Lord Greymoon was holding.
"Our problems extend far beyond simple licentious behavior, holy father." Greymoon stated, throwing a glance over the half naked Night Elves that stood in salutation to their Captain. The noble quirked his brow a little, before peering over to Sharon.
"I can see the place has not undergone much change since I last visited you, heh."
"Master Daerin'Lei has been away on private errands. Discretion is the,-"
"I can handle it from here."
Sharon interrupted Frederick, and the human butler looked over to the High Elf before nodding in acknowledge. The High Elf turned to Marshall, before motioning towards the group behind him.
"We have been out chasing evils in the City. Greymoon, would you come over here?" Sharon said, motioning for Lord Greymoon to step over to him. The noble approached, holding up the satchel that he had carried from the sewer. Pulling it open, Sharon reached his arm down into it to retrieve the shaft of a dark wood, twisted staff. It was part of what had once been the black mage, Sevarian's staff. Sharon held it up so that Marshall could see it clearly.
"Taken from a dark mage we encountered in our search. We found it alongside an assortment of unholy books, scripts and relics." Sharon explained, motioning towards the satchel that Lord Greymoon was holding.
"Our problems extend far beyond simple licentious behavior, holy father." Greymoon stated, throwing a glance over the half naked Night Elves that stood in salutation to their Captain. The noble quirked his brow a little, before peering over to Sharon.
"I can see the place has not undergone much change since I last visited you, heh."
I'm not sure where Innovative is, so until he comes back, his character can follow us on auto-mode :P
"We have what we came for." Sharon said as he stood up again, peering at Lord Greymoon who was busy lowering a satchel of pillaged goods from the small arcaneum up above on the balcony.
But as Greymoon lowered himself from the balcony, dropping down a meter or so of the remaining height, the older man approached Sharon with a concerned look on his face. The High Elf eventually noticed the expression on the noble's face, and turned to face Lord Greymoon as he walked up to him.
" ... what did you find?"
"I recognized the dead cultist." Greymoon said, with a pale look on his face. Sharon quirked his eyebrow at the revelation, peering more closely at Greymoon.
"You did? Was it a friend of yours?"
"No, he was a farmer under my protectorate. I remember him because he was one of the men-at-arms I sent with you on your journey. He was a crew of the Waverunner. He never returned, and I thought him for dead like the others."
"He was one of your men?"
Sharon looked surprised for a moment. Could this mean that some of Greymoon's own men had turned against him? Possibly driven by Sherpa's influence? It was not as much the cultist's own betrayal as the overall ramifications this could have for the rest of the Lord's men. If some of his men secretly worked for Sherpa, it could explain why the assassins had seemingly always been ahead of Greymoon's own guard.
"We will talk more of this more once we get back." Sharon concluded, his mind moving over to how they were going to get back. He doubted it would be smart to use the path through the Inn, as considering the mess they had made in the district, the city guard was probably swarming the place. And the last thing he needed was to be stuck in a long questioning by the guard.
Attempting to find their way through the sewers was a dangerous enough idea, not only because of the assassins, but because hardly anyone of the group even knew their way. Not to mention Sharon was tired, his group was injured. A portal seemed like a good idea. He didn't care if the assassins picked up and learnt where they went. They already knew that he lived in the Mage district, so it wouldn't make much of a difference.
"Vashi, I am setting up a portal to the mage district. Will you give me a hand? I have a predetermined location already set up and ready to go." Sharon explained as he turned to Vashi, motioning for the Night Elf to come and help him.
Assisted by Vashi, Sharon began to conjure on a portal spell.
Chanting in a low voice, Sharon closed his eyes and extended his silver staff. As he progressed through the spell, the air around him became still and immobile: Any wind in the room immediately died out, and a small humming sound emanated from the High Elf's staff as he focused.
In a snow filled alleyway in the mage's district, a slight blue glimmer began to appear from beneath the layer of snow covering the ground. Above it, in the space above, the air began to become uneasy and disturbed, shifting around and blowing erratically, pushing away the snow on the ground beneath it to reveal a small, blue summoning circle etched into the cobblestone road.
As he progressed into the spell, the fabric of space was suddenly warped in front of the High Elf, creating a shimmering portal to an alleyway in the mage's district. Cold winter air suddenly flowed out from the portal and into the room, alongside a handful of snowflakes that drifted through the portal and melted on the moist surface of the sewer on their feet.
It seemed to be late day from the looks of it through the portal.
The cloudy sky had turned slightly darker, and a low haze filled the streets. The snow fall had increased, and it seemed to be brewing up to a small snow storm on the surface.
Sharon picked up a pig femur from the ground, before tossing through the portal. The animal bone flew straight through the portal, landing and burying itself halfway into the snow on the other side in the alleyway for all to see.
"Come, it will only stay open for two minutes." Sharon explained, before he motioned towards the portal and stepped through it, appearing on the other side in the alleyway.
As his boot landed in the snow and he walked out of the portal, out of the humid and foul sewer and into the open, clear and cold air of day, the High Elf looked around him. The fact that no crossbow bolts had come for him was a relief. Walking forward and out of the alleyway, he looked to his right, and could see the garden of his own house a few rows away from where he currently stood.
"It's good to be home... "
But as Greymoon lowered himself from the balcony, dropping down a meter or so of the remaining height, the older man approached Sharon with a concerned look on his face. The High Elf eventually noticed the expression on the noble's face, and turned to face Lord Greymoon as he walked up to him.
" ... what did you find?"
"I recognized the dead cultist." Greymoon said, with a pale look on his face. Sharon quirked his eyebrow at the revelation, peering more closely at Greymoon.
"You did? Was it a friend of yours?"
"No, he was a farmer under my protectorate. I remember him because he was one of the men-at-arms I sent with you on your journey. He was a crew of the Waverunner. He never returned, and I thought him for dead like the others."
"He was one of your men?"
Sharon looked surprised for a moment. Could this mean that some of Greymoon's own men had turned against him? Possibly driven by Sherpa's influence? It was not as much the cultist's own betrayal as the overall ramifications this could have for the rest of the Lord's men. If some of his men secretly worked for Sherpa, it could explain why the assassins had seemingly always been ahead of Greymoon's own guard.
"We will talk more of this more once we get back." Sharon concluded, his mind moving over to how they were going to get back. He doubted it would be smart to use the path through the Inn, as considering the mess they had made in the district, the city guard was probably swarming the place. And the last thing he needed was to be stuck in a long questioning by the guard.
Attempting to find their way through the sewers was a dangerous enough idea, not only because of the assassins, but because hardly anyone of the group even knew their way. Not to mention Sharon was tired, his group was injured. A portal seemed like a good idea. He didn't care if the assassins picked up and learnt where they went. They already knew that he lived in the Mage district, so it wouldn't make much of a difference.
"Vashi, I am setting up a portal to the mage district. Will you give me a hand? I have a predetermined location already set up and ready to go." Sharon explained as he turned to Vashi, motioning for the Night Elf to come and help him.
Assisted by Vashi, Sharon began to conjure on a portal spell.
Chanting in a low voice, Sharon closed his eyes and extended his silver staff. As he progressed through the spell, the air around him became still and immobile: Any wind in the room immediately died out, and a small humming sound emanated from the High Elf's staff as he focused.
In a snow filled alleyway in the mage's district, a slight blue glimmer began to appear from beneath the layer of snow covering the ground. Above it, in the space above, the air began to become uneasy and disturbed, shifting around and blowing erratically, pushing away the snow on the ground beneath it to reveal a small, blue summoning circle etched into the cobblestone road.
As he progressed into the spell, the fabric of space was suddenly warped in front of the High Elf, creating a shimmering portal to an alleyway in the mage's district. Cold winter air suddenly flowed out from the portal and into the room, alongside a handful of snowflakes that drifted through the portal and melted on the moist surface of the sewer on their feet.
It seemed to be late day from the looks of it through the portal.
The cloudy sky had turned slightly darker, and a low haze filled the streets. The snow fall had increased, and it seemed to be brewing up to a small snow storm on the surface.
Sharon picked up a pig femur from the ground, before tossing through the portal. The animal bone flew straight through the portal, landing and burying itself halfway into the snow on the other side in the alleyway for all to see.
"Come, it will only stay open for two minutes." Sharon explained, before he motioned towards the portal and stepped through it, appearing on the other side in the alleyway.
As his boot landed in the snow and he walked out of the portal, out of the humid and foul sewer and into the open, clear and cold air of day, the High Elf looked around him. The fact that no crossbow bolts had come for him was a relief. Walking forward and out of the alleyway, he looked to his right, and could see the garden of his own house a few rows away from where he currently stood.
"It's good to be home... "
"Amazing."
Sharon gazed at Rithrynn in the doorway, looking thoroughly impressed. The High Elf was relieved to see that Rithrynn had returned, even after her sisters had abandoned her. And she didn't even have as much as a scratch!
The Night Elf never ceased to amaze him through her combat performance, or speed for that matter. Being able to hunt down an assassin in the sewer below Stormwind, especially when said assassin probably already knew every tunnel and route unlike her, was really impressive.
But as much as he was happy to see Rithrynn, his mind returned to the gnome the elves had brought back earlier.
Sharon turned around and walked over to Mitonk, who was still recovering from his abuse at the hands of the Night Elves earlier, looking both confused while simultaneously fuming over the personal insult he had suffered.
"Are you alright, gnome?" Sharon asked, the High Elf walking up next to Mitonk and knelt next to him.
Regardless of the Night Elves' story, Sharon had a hard time believing Mitonk to be one of the assassins. Not to mention that what threat could the gnome possibly represent after what he had gone through, stripped of all dignity, pride and least of all his equipment and tools?
"Your name is Mitonk, correct?" Sharon asked, unhinging his own cloak to offer it to Mitonk who at that point was half naked.
"I am Sharon Daerin'lei of the Silver Covenant. I apologize for your treatment at the hands of my... protectors. To say that they are a little paranoid would be a grave understatement on my part." Sharon explained, slightly tilting his head to the side as he looked down at Mitonk with a sympathetic expression.
"Can... can I offer you a meal? I live in the Mage district. To provide you with some food and shelter after what happened today is the least I can do."
Sharon gazed at Rithrynn in the doorway, looking thoroughly impressed. The High Elf was relieved to see that Rithrynn had returned, even after her sisters had abandoned her. And she didn't even have as much as a scratch!
The Night Elf never ceased to amaze him through her combat performance, or speed for that matter. Being able to hunt down an assassin in the sewer below Stormwind, especially when said assassin probably already knew every tunnel and route unlike her, was really impressive.
But as much as he was happy to see Rithrynn, his mind returned to the gnome the elves had brought back earlier.
Sharon turned around and walked over to Mitonk, who was still recovering from his abuse at the hands of the Night Elves earlier, looking both confused while simultaneously fuming over the personal insult he had suffered.
"Are you alright, gnome?" Sharon asked, the High Elf walking up next to Mitonk and knelt next to him.
Regardless of the Night Elves' story, Sharon had a hard time believing Mitonk to be one of the assassins. Not to mention that what threat could the gnome possibly represent after what he had gone through, stripped of all dignity, pride and least of all his equipment and tools?
"Your name is Mitonk, correct?" Sharon asked, unhinging his own cloak to offer it to Mitonk who at that point was half naked.
"I am Sharon Daerin'lei of the Silver Covenant. I apologize for your treatment at the hands of my... protectors. To say that they are a little paranoid would be a grave understatement on my part." Sharon explained, slightly tilting his head to the side as he looked down at Mitonk with a sympathetic expression.
"Can... can I offer you a meal? I live in the Mage district. To provide you with some food and shelter after what happened today is the least I can do."
How is the writer's block coming along, Innovative? Or are you waiting for Liaena to post first?
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