Everyone gathers at the Site of Lessons and talk as others arrive. Once everyone has arrived they head to the Site of Remembrance and each offer up something in remembrance of the lost. Malfias appears and informs everyone about that the Outer Gate is breached and offers to works with the Netherbane to protect against whatever might be on the other side. The Elishtars, seeing the need, rejoin into one person again. And Rephaia chases Araatris back to the Site of Lessons.Read More
It started as silence; a stillness that longed to feel movement, like a tired muscle forced to remain unmoving for too long. There was an energy behind this silence--a sense of urgency and a build-up of anticipation. The underlying tension increased with each passing moment, with each passing breath.
Though, there should have been no breaths here. There was nothing but scattered wreckage from a battle recently fought and won. Or perhaps it was lost? That depended on which side you were on, of course.Read More
Veldrinas is seated in front of a small campfire near the ruins of Forest Song. The heat of the summer evening coupled with the heat of the fire causes sweat to trickle down the side of his face, but he pays it no mind. No, instead the demon hunter is reminiscing about how close he and his friends came to annihilation at the hands of Sraath the Eclipse. The doom lord would have succeeded were it not for the sacrifice of one brave soul, Taldarion. Though Veldrinas was not personally close to the hunter, they shared a bond through affiliation with Tharion Greyseer, which would have made him a brother-in-arms, and perhaps even family.Read More
About an hour later, Vasedra stands just inside the door of the simple quarters, watching as Ary wanders the room, inspecting the organic bed with a mattress of some sort of spongy, liquid-rich membrane and the storage shelves of bone and sinew and the chair and desk arrayed against the wall.
"You'd be near enough to mine to reach me easily, here. Also, it takes a little bit of time, but the room furnishings can be rearranged to your tastes."
That very moment, a deck below and half-a-ship to the aft, Cazas cocks a saucy hip to the side, watching the brig's seamless door stretch open. The room beyond is oddly truncated with the cell closed, a six-paces-wide control strip all that's left of the 20-paces-wide space. She saunters in, tilting her head to the side and snapping her tail back and forth as she examines the draenei prisoner with sharp, calculating interest.
Her voice is light as a cloud, at odds with the malice behind her smile as she says, "How fortunate are you, lovely blue thing! Here I am with your dinner, compliments of my darling captain. It's still luke-warm."
The transport pad solidifies around them, the world of the vessel slowly resolving out of a field of light and fel-glowing green.
As dark as the Revenant's exterior is, the interior is equally bright. The walls are made of some substance the color of ivory that is inlaid with a bright silver metal at joints and high up near the ceiling, forming traceries along the surface like veins or circuitry. The room is bulbous, shy of rectangular and devoid of right angles, organic, with a high archway over the open door and two floor-to-ceiling ribs along two extremes of the space that look as much like sinew as structure.
Off to their right, a control panel sprouts from the floor, equally white and formed as if by stretching taffy and molding a flat, crescent-curved surface into its top. A conduit of clear fibers lit within by fel-green energy runs along its pedestal from floor to panel, the bundle alive with pulses, crackles and sparks all safely contained within. A colorful assortment of gems of all shapes and sizes populate the panel at its terminus, their vibrant tones a distinct contrast to the muted colors of the six-armed shivarra demoness who mans them.
Sedra sits in the lee of a rock, watching the quiet surf of the lazy night ocean slide in and out over the sand, washing away the cloven hoofprints left behind by her earlier pacing. The grooves fill with water on each surge and soften with each recession. Fill and blur. Fill and blur. Fill and blur...
It reminds her of something vague, something thrumming from her heart, and as the sound of the ocean against the rock fills her ears, her gaze grows unfocused and her head lolls back against the curve of the boulder, the false-lit blue of her eyes beneath her cowl slipping up to the star-filled sky, unseeing.
Shizukera stares at the skull in her hand, hesitant. She doesn’t know what to think or how to feel, so she lets her thoughts swirl about chaotically in her mind. It’s an oddly poetic balance: as chaotic and overcrowded as her mind is, her soul is the opposite, full of nothing but emptiness and a deafening silence.
You shouldn’t have let him go back alone.Read More
Ary, followed by Fethas Soulthorn, finds Eraelan at his camp. Fethas describes her conflicts with the Soulthorn now going wild and attacking her instead of complying to her wishes. Eraelan notices Ary's pain as they talk. He quickly gathers the items to make a new halo to filter out the whispers and echoes in young woman's mind using metal, cloth, Fethas' blood (since she was the last to host Sraath before the crystal), and a shard of J'ure. He comments to Fethas that she should seek out someone to learn better control before dismissing the demon hunter.Read More
In that area, the halls of the Soul Cleaver were as silent and still as the grave. Appropriate, since these particular ones were a grave in truth, still home to a few drying carcasses of the Atrium's former denizens: the ones that had been too weak or too injured in the crash to escape their damaged cells.
Vasedra had known their names. From her Belmun self, she had crafted together a habitat for them, for all of the collection, and ... adored them in her own way. Sentient, intelligent pets. Children, half-loved at best.
The void knight could still remember the feel of the mucus that had drenched her human hands when the vozaksian had first hatched. Disgusting. Fascinating. The corpse in the cell at her back had been the last of her kind, and Sedra's Belmun self had been the last creature in all of existence to experience one's hatching.
A memory, now. Rot and entropy. Decay, like the King in the mad shrine to Raeisley's slug.