#Argonas the Ironclad

[kidcatgeminiart]

Chibi Icon - Argonas

Realized that I still owed a Patreon reward from before my re-launch. Have a happy Argonas ( @argonas )<3

Argonas the Ironclad belongs to @thefugitivemango

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Drawn and colored on Clip Studio Paint Pro  

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[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini, player of @sinafay1 and @sinafay-the-defiant ]]

~*~

The Kyrian’s duties in Korthia were primarily as scouts. Their air superiority gave them a distinct advantage in surveying the area. But even for a wingless Kyrian adherent like Grakkar, scouting was the best way he could contribute to the joint efforts of Death’s Advance. An eye in the sky was one thing, but without getting a sense of things on the ground, it didn’t count for much.

The orc hefted his axe over his shoulder, relaxing his stride as he stepped out onto the open road. He’d trudged and crawled through the thickets, underbrush, and cliffsides of this unforgiving land enough for one day, and now returned to the Keeper’s Respite up the hill. Today’s report wasn’t much different than yesterday’s-- fighting here happened quickly and spontaneously, and ended equally so. It made it hard to predict when and where the Mawsworn would strike. But they weren’t amassing anywhere out of the usual. For now.

Grakkar stopped, eyes shooting wide as he entered the encampment. His heart skipped a beat, swelling up in his chest! It was a face he’d know anywhere-- Sinafay’s! What was she doing here? And why was her skin so much more blue than before? Her eyes, too were--

“... Oh.”

It dawned on him, heart beating back normally again… though feeling excessively heavier now, as a result. It was Sinafay. But not his Sinafay. His wall of a Soulbind by her side confirmed it, as the two spoke indistinctly across the camp. Shared a kiss… then Argonas stepped away, approaching the Kyrian forward commanders. Likely to report in. He’d been scarce lately, but Grakkar understood why. After the Battle for Ardenweald, he finally attained what he came here for in the first place. Sinafay.

And… there she was. Standing alone now, watching her mate from afar. That same hopeful, jovial expression as she looked at Argonas that her Lightbound self back home would give Grakkar when he was around. It made him miss her all the more, seeing this facsimile here and now.

Before he knew it, his legs took off without him, closing the distance between him and Sinafay. By the time he was within talking distance of her, he realized he had no idea what to say!

“Nice body.” was his knee-jerk reaction.

He could almost taste his foot as he shoved it in his mouth.

“--Uhh, I mean… I’m glad you restored it. Your body, I mean.” he tried to correct. “Because, you know… last I saw you were a soul.”

An attempt at a save. Not a good one, but an attempt!

Sinafay visibly bristled at the voice. She recognized the gruff Orcish accent easily enough. Her eyes narrowed as she snapped an ice cold glare at Grakkar. Her tail twitched, clearly demonstrating her annoyance as he fumbled his words out.

She hadn’t yet had a chance to discuss with Argonas how he’d ended up with an Orc as a Soulbind. Either way, she at least attempted not to be immediately hostile towards him, if anything because she wasn’t aware of the specifics of how the connection worked.

“Thank you…” she replied, though it appeared to take great effort on her part, “It has served me well thus far.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her hip, brows knit as she looked him over. Old… very old. No doubt a good fighter to have reached that age. She wondered how many Draenei deaths he was responsible for…

There was an awkward silence as they both just stood there eyeing each other. She wasn’t certain why Grakkar wasn’t leaving… was he attempting to befriend her because of the link with Argonas, she wondered? Sinafay looked over towards where her husband had gone, hoping to catch his gaze and indicate he should come back, but he appeared to be in a deep conversation about the mission report. She let out a heavy sigh before returning her attention to the Orc.

“You and Argonas are… Soulbinds, yes?” she figured she might as well attempt to gather information, “What exactly does that entail?”

“It’s, uh… complicated.” he sputtered out, not entirely sure how to answer that. “The Kyrian do this ritual to connect people, so they can draw on one another’s strengths. Argonas and I share a link of sorts. Memories. Emotions. Those kinds of things we can glean from one another’s pasts.”

It was honestly about all he knew about it, for having undergone a Soulbinding ritual personally. The rest of it felt… innate. Unable to be put into words, just understood through the experience. He found a lot of shamanistic rituals were like that, too.

“--Ah! You’re a shaman, right?” he brightened, smiling as he remembered that fact! “I remember Argonas mentioning that. Or… reading it from his memories. Either way, that’s impressive! Where I come from, not a lot of Draenei have the tenacity or commitment for such a sacred calling.”

He smiled a bit. Relaxing. This was going well… he thought. He hoped.

“I… am, yes,” she replied, tail flickering behind her. She wasn’t about to mention that having a new body made it so that she had to reconnect with the elements once again. It was one of the main reasons she wanted to accompany Argonas to Korthia, what better place to reconnect than on the field of battle itself?

The idea of him gleaning memories and emotions from Argonas was… disturbing, to say the least. Especially considering she and her mate had spent the past few months doing nothing but celebrating her return in very physical ways! She couldn’t help but wonder how much of that he’d picked up. Perhaps it was the reason he was so relaxed around her. Her nose scrunched up in disgust. It was uncomfortable to say the least. This Orc already seemed to know so much about her, yet she knew next to nothing about him.

For the moment, she pushed aside the memory and emotions issue to concentrate on the other things Grakkar had divulged.

“What do you mean ‘where you are from?’” She couldn’t help but ask, noting his skin color and tattoos, “You speak of Nagrand?”

"Heh, good eye. You know your clans, it seems." he nodded.

Grakkar then spread his arms and turned slightly to further show off his Warsong clan markings. He was impressed; this Sinafay seemed as interested in Orcish culture as his was!

"I'm from a different timeline than you are, though-- the one you Azerothians returned to and saved from the Legion's devastation." he clarified, straightening up once more. "After you all left, the Orcish clans and the Draenei empire lived in peace… for a time. Before the Lightbound Crusade."

A frown crossed his features, diminishing the polite and friendly smile he had tried to maintain in her presence. Even now, the sudden betrayal of the Draenei weighed heavily on his heart. He lost so many people he cared about to that zealous treachery. Including Neelah.

"But… that isn't a very pleasant story." he shook his head, shrugging the negative memories away for now. "Regardless, it's impressive to see a Draenei cultivate an affinity to the elements."

Sinafay simply blinked as a pack of new information came rolling out of the Orc’s mouth. Draenor? Draenei and Orcs living in peace?! Lightbound Crusade? She shook her head as she tried to digest it all… except none of it made any sense!

“Wait wait wait,” her arms finally uncrossed from over her chest, to bring her fingers to rub at her temples, “You are saying that the portals to Draenor are OPEN again?! Since when?! What the fuck is a Lightbound?! What crusade?!”

So many questions filled her head. She looked towards Argonas once more. He hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort!

Fuck, she needed a drink!

Grakkar's eyes widened, brow raising. His lips grew narrow, as he began to recognize the familiar signs or panic and confused anger in this Sinafay he had learned from the true one back home. He had definitely upset her.

"--Oh, uh… no, no. The portals aren't open again. They were briefly so we could escape the Lightbound Crusade." he tried to explain simply and quickly as possible. "The, uh, the Lightbound were what the Draenei in my timeline became after the Azerothians left. Their leader grew zealous and broke the peace to try and force the Light onto us. They killed anyone who resisted, so… uh…"

Only after he expounded on the terrible incident did he realize… knowing more probably wouldn't calm this Sinafay down. Just like the feeling of shame and anger he felt learning the Orcs of the Azerothian timeline had succumbed to the Fel, he suspected this particular Sinafay might not be pleased to hear her people had become oppressors.

Whoops.

"I, uh… I'll let Argonas fill you in on the rest of that. Where'd he get off to, anyway…?"

He joined Sinafay in looking for his Soulbind… but the crowd had grown. Argonas was nowhere in sight!

She took the opportunity to get up in his face. Hands grabbing his tabard and tugging his attention back to her as she growled at him. He was right, she was upset. Tail flicked erratically behind her, and despite having not fully reconnected to the elements, static electricity and sparks of lightning became evident at her growing sour mood.

“Details, Orc,” she practically barked out the command, “Now.”

His lips almost curled into a smile. Almost. Sinafay was so sexy when she was angry and aggressive… even this Azerothian variant! It took significant willpower to keep his hands at his side, rather than grabbing at and groping the Draenei like he would do back home in a situation like this. He had to remind himself this wasn’t his Sinafay.

Hopefully she didn’t notice his erection-- the damn thing clearly couldn’t tell the difference.

“The, uh… the clans were thinned, and forced to merge into one clan and unite against the Lightbound. But even that didn’t stop them, after their empire had grown so powerful. The last of us escaped through the portal to Azeroth, right after the Ogres succumbed.” he elaborated, at her insistence. “Light drove them to madness, same as an excess of any magic would. I know things worked out differently in your timeline, so this must be hard to hear, Sina. But… your people on Draenor turned into zealots.”

He brought his hand up to gently push hers off of him. His arousal abated, after recounting the awful tragedy that ended his life on Draenor. That, and Sinafay’s rage was far less sexy when he couldn’t fight back, as it turned out...

“--Look, don’t get mad at me, alright? I didn’t raise my weapon to any Draenei who weren’t trying to kill me. After the peace, anyway…” he attempted to quell her anger further. “No, during the Lightbound Crusades, I even worked with a Draenei; the real Sinafay, actually! And later after that, Sinafay and I… well… she became my mate.”

He smiled. That would’ve surely cheered her up, to learn that her true self wasn’t one of the oppressive out-of-control Lightbound that conquered his people!

“We even had a child together-- but that’s more recent, once we got here to Azeroth. Argonas thought it was his at first, and we had a big fight over it. I won, easily, but it was still a sore point in our relationship.” he continued, filling Sinafay in on the more recent details. “But we’re past it now, and are working together! One more point of proof, if you need it, that I’m most definitely a friend of the Draenei! Married one, have one as a child-- and if I can work well with Argonas, what more proof do you need?”

With a hearty laugh, Grakkar brought his hand firmly down on Sinafay’s shoulder! He was so glad they were getting along now!

Sinafay’s head spun. She remained in front of Grakkar, hands still up in front of her, balled into fists as he recounted all the details to her. Her eyes widened as he explained the path her kin on Draenor had taken. Surely, the Orcs must have provoked them somehow! But then, she’d seen for herself how the Naaru and the Light could corrupt back on Argus. It turned her stomach that such a corrupted path had been the one Yrel had taken…

She shook her head slowly, face visibly paled and brows drawn together as she tried to make sense of it. Surely, Rurik wouldn’t have stood for something like that nor would her mother or—

—The news of her Draenor counterpart took her completely by surprise. She blinked as Grakkar updated her on her alternate self. She stared at the Orc in shock and disbelief. Part of her was pleased that the other Sinafay had both fought against and survived the crusade. It seemed their will to do what was right and their survival skills were similar.

Apparently, though, that was where their similarities ended. Her counterpart was mated AND had birthed Grakkar’s child?! And why would Argonas think the child was…

Wait.

He would only think the child was his if…

Anger returned to the forefront of her mind as she realized two things. One: her alternate self had managed to cross over and was now living on Azeroth. Two: Argonas was sleeping with her again.

The hand on her shoulder was the breaking point. Baring her fangs, Sinafay grabbed Grakkar’s upper arms and moved forward as she raised her knee, swiftly connecting hard into the Orc’s testicles.

“Fuck that bitch and fuck YOU!”

She was furious! Her eyes flared as lightning sparked around her form. Shoving Grakkar aside, she stomped off into the wilds of Korthia, tail swinging aggressively behind her.

She needed air.

~*~

Grakkar wasn’t sure how long he was on the ground. His eyes fluttered open to see his Soulbind Argonas, scowling down at him. Slowly, sound returned to him. Muffled mumblings at first, but growing more clear as his senses returned to him.

“... ere is she? Where is Sinafay?” Argonas asked, demandingly.

That’s when it started rushing back to the Orc. The memories and the pain, both. He winced, feeling the intense pain in his groin all at once.

“--A-Ancestors…” he whimpered.

Argonas, too, grimaced-- their Soulbinding translating that physical pain in Grakkar into sympathetic pain for the Vindicator. He glanced down, and briefly brushed his hand overtop the Orc’s battered bundle. A flash of Light, and the pain was suppressed. For now.

“--Hnngh… Thank you…” Grakkar managed to speak, no longer straining from the intensity of the pain. “She… kicks really hard… I didn’t expect it-- we were getting along so well!”

“Clearly not as well as you think!” Argonas resumed scolding.

He pulled Grakkar up, whether he wanted to sit up or not, and crossed his arms before him.

“I will ask again; where is she? You were with her last, and clearly upset her!”

“I… I don’t know. We were talking about Shamanism, then about Draenor…” Grakkar replied, as the memories started lining up again. “Then about the Lightbound, and the real Sina… then our child, and--”

“--Wait, you told her about the other Sinafay?” Argonas interrupted, frowning. “What exactly did you say?”

“That she and I had a child together. I told her how we fought over it, when you thought it was yours, but only to indicate that we had moved past that, yeah?” the Orc replied, grunting as he slowly stood up. “I was trying to show her I’m not like most of the Orcs you and she have encountered in your timeline. That I’m a friend. I thought that’d be best, given our circumstances.”

Argonas had stopped listening after the part about the baby. His eyes widened, skin growing a paler shade of blue. He turned, staring at the ground as a million thoughts raced through his mind. None of them good.

“... She knows, then. And she is not happy about it.”

“About what?”

“About the other Sinafay. And how we--”

He gasped, turning to Grakkar. He didn’t have to say it-- their soulbind link conveyed it well enough in the moment. Argonas was not supposed to have rekindled things with the Sinafay from Draenor. Grakkar could tell immediately.

“... It’s alright, big guy. Look, you just explain to her that you thought she was gone for good, yeah? She’ll forgive you!”

“Does she seem like a forgiving person to you!?” Argonas snapped back, brow furrowed. “They hated each other! Light, I should have warned you, but I did not expect you would speak of that in your first ever encounter with her!”

“... Second, technically.” the Orc mumbled to himself. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

The silence lingered between the two of them for a moment. Both feeling the complexity and awkwardness of the situation through their soulbind. Finally, Grakkar shrugged.

“I’m gonna go.”

“I think that would be best, yes.” Argonas nodded. “Lay low for now. I will sort this out so it does not interfere with our duties to the Kyrian.”

“--No, Argonas… I’m gonna go home.”

Argonas raised his brow, as he looked at Grakkar. The Orc nodded resolutely, as he hefted his axe back over his shoulder. Aside from a pair of bruised berries, his encounter with Sinafay had left him with one thing; homesickness. As much as he wanted to help, he was starting to realize what this time apart from his mate and daughter was really costing him. He had been able to push his feelings down until now. But seeing Sinafay? Even a copy of her? Those feelings were too much to ignore.

He didn’t have to say it, though-- Argonas could feel it. And honestly, were he in the same position, he couldn’t say for sure that he’d continue to squash the feelings for the good of the mission. It was time for his Soulbind to return to Azeroth.

“... Mm. So be it.” he replied, nodding.

He stepped forward, and extended a hand. A gesture of goodwill-- the first he’d ever made towards an Orc! Grakkar smirked, taking Argonas’ hand in his and squeezing it firmly. They grinned to one another.

“Honor and glory to you, Argonas.”

“And Light’s blessings upon you and yours, Grakkar.”

Grakkar nodded one final time, before turning to depart. He paused, calling back as he approached the portal.

“--And good luck with all that!”

His chuckle echoed across the Sanctuary, before fading away with his physical form back to Oribos.

~*~

[[ @sinafay1 / @sinafay-the-defiant / @argonas / @grakkar-gorefang ]]

[kaiekasunwhisper]

Hello On the Other Side

(( Co-written with @grakkar-gorefang / @thefugitivemango / @argonas . @avehi-the-adamant​ , @brent-sunborn​ and @sinafay-the-defiant for character mention.))

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The fighting was done. Grakkar slowly felt the fatigue set in as his adrenaline began to die off. It had been a long day; at least, in his perspective. Time seemed to work differently here in the Shadowlands, with people who had been dead for only a few years saying they’d been here much, much longer. It made him wonder how much time had actually passed on Azeroth… if it were shorter than it felt, hopefully it meant his beloved mate and daughter wouldn’t miss him as much as he missed them. Which, by now, was a tremendous amount.

He shook his head, securing his axe down in the desiccated dust that comprised most of Maldraxxus’ ground. Blood and bile that caked it had turned a sickening shade of greyish blue. Something he’d have to wash off once he got back to Bastion. That couldn’t come soon enough. He’d grown tired of this place.

His Soulbind, Argonas, had joined Avehi and the rest of the Necrolord leaders inside the Seat of the Primus, a large statue of what many Maldraxxi revered as the greatest military mind the Shadowlands had ever known. Argonas was eager to meet and speak with Avehi the Adamant, a mutual friend and recent ally of the Necrolords. They had much to discuss following the fall of the House of Constructs. But Grakkar wasn’t much of a talker, and opted to wait outside. He sat down on a bench-- or large femur?-- and sighed. Lips curling to a small smile in the aftermath of a good and glorious battle!

Kai’eka watched him from her position not too far away, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. After all the trouble Grakkar had gone through to be with his stupid mate, what was he doing in the Shadowlands? Had they split up again? She felt a familiar stir of emotions as the possibility of him being single again was entertained. Not for long, however. She shook her head, remembering how disgustingly vulnerable he’d made her last time. She wasn’t interested in that sort of pointless, fleeting thing…

She picked up a small rock and tossed it at the Orc’s head, minding her undead strength. 

“Hey, Dumbass! What’s got you hanging out with dead people?”

"--Hrm?"

The Orc turned as the rock whizzed past his head; a near miss, thanks to his post-battle jittery reflexes. Seeing Kai'eka became even less reason to try and relax in this battle-scarred place. He stood, offering the Death Knight a forced smile and casual wave. Avehi wasn't lying-- there she was, eyes aglow with that telltale lichfire. It was still so vexing to think she had been a Twilight Cultist all along… it really made the Orc carry on with more caution around people. He couldn't take anyone for face value anymore. Still, Avehi had said Kai'eka was reformed in her undeath. Now an Ebon Knight, like she was. He afforded Kai'eka a cursory trust on Avehi's word alone. The Draenei was honest, to a brutal degree. And had earned his respect and favor in caring for his beloved. 

Still, an uneasy feeling welled up within him as he looked upon Kai'eka. One he just… couldn't shake.

"They know how to do an exciting battle, I heard. Had to see for myself." Grakkar replied, smirking. "You're looking good, for being dead now."

The Death Knight shrugged, pushing herself off the rock wall and walked over to sit by the Orc… at least, as close as he’d allow. She rested her large sword up next to his axe against the femur. It actually felt nice being next to him without that drive kicking in. It made it all the more easy to keep her mind clear.

“Best I’ve ever been,” she answered. An exaggeration given her recently broken rune weapon. In truth, she felt exhausted and stretched thin. Nothing he needed to know. “Should have taken this route a long time ago.”

She glanced to him, her expression ever neutral.

“Thought you were done fighting. Settling down with your wife or whatever…”

A grunt came, as the Orc's response. Familiar enough to Kai'eka to be one of affirmation. Orcs had a grunt for every occasion. 

"We have a farmstead, in Arathi." He nodded, proudly. "My daughter, Neelah, grows stronger every day. A warrior to be, no doubt."

He shifted, turning to better face his old friend. He wasn't shy in looking her over; though he hardly looked at her the way he once did. Platonic, now. For more reasons than one. Her armor was familiar enough; he had seen enough Ebon Knights with plate of similar craft. Just one sword, though? That was new. Her eyes, however, drew the bulk of his attention. He wasn't used to seeing the azure flames of undeath flickering from them. Unsettling, yet entrancing. 

"The Ancestors, however, had something else in mind for me. Close brushes with death sometimes strengthen our connections in that way." He shrugged. "They called me here, to help save them from the Maw."

She raised an eyebrow at that. Grakkar had always seemed rather removed from the spiritual way of things. She didn’t think he was lying, but how odd that they wouldn’t call upon a shaman instead. Of course, it wasn’t as though they had ever talked about such things before… and she wasn’t exactly open to such talks now, either way. 

“Well, don’t be getting yourself killed in the process,” she smirked, “Not sure how things work if you die on this side of the veil. Plus, I wouldn’t mind visiting your farm for the occasional spar once this is over.”

She brought an arm up to punch him in the shoulder, before changing the subject.

“How’s my stupid lizard?”

“Dumb as ever. The sounds he and Kronk make keep wolves off the farmstead, at least.” Grakkar chuckled, recoiling slightly from the punch. “He’s being well taken care of. I promise.”

He looked at Kai’eka again, appraisingly. He wanted to ask what she was doing here. But then again, he figured she was doing the same thing Avehi was-- trying to fix whatever broke on this side of death. He looked away, glancing down at the bone dust beneath his boots. It made for a period of somewhat-awkward silence between them… a silence that in meetings long before this one would’ve been otherwise filled. 

The thought now made him shudder.

“--You, er… you’re missing a sword, looks like.” he commented; anything to break the silence.

Her ears twitched at the statement. The memory alone of losing her blade tore her up. The physical pain had been intense, but the emotional toll it took on her was indescribable. It was like losing part of herself. More than the bond between an Ebon Knight and their rune weapon, she’d earned her swords early on in her cultist life. She’d gathered the pieces of the shattered weapon. Perhaps, one day, she’d find a blacksmith that she trusted enough to reforge it.

Outwardly, she shrugged as though they were talking about the weather.

“Avehi decided to get pissy over a misunderstanding. Broke the blade fighting her.”

She didn’t mention she’d lost the fight, of course. 

“Apparently, I have poor judgment in picking sides,” she rolled her eyes, “Moody bitch.”

“Heh, she seems like. I only met her once, but she gave me a death stare. Like… a literal death stare, like she was trying to kill me in her head.” Grakkar added, shaking his head. “Then later, after our farm was attacked, she stood vigil so Sinafay, Neelah and I could sleep peacefully.”

He shrugged, chuckling a bit at the absurdity of the two drastically different encounters he’d had with their mutual friend. He seemed to speak about her with a sense of reverence… and fear. One more than the other, it seemed. 

“We owe her a lot. She’s been a dear friend to Sina.”

He looked Kai’eka over, lips pursing a bit around his tusks. Another shrug.

“... She was the one who told me you died. And… that you were a Twilight Cultist.” he admitted. “While we, erm… between our visits, you weren’t really on Alliance business, huh?”

Kai’eka’s expression remained neutral, though her ears flickered slightly, surprised that Avehi had disclosed that information. It wasn’t something she wanted spread around, and she’d hoped the Death Knight would respect that. Her facade gave way to a frown. Who else knew? 

A question for another time. For now, she debated how to answer Grakkar’s question. She could lie, but he’d been as honest as he could be with her in all their time together. She sighed, casting her gaze to the side.

“I joined the Twilights in my early adulthood. Devoted my life to it. When I got stranded with you, I wasn’t collecting Azerite for the Alliance. It was for the Twilights. When we bumped into each other in Naz’jatar, my partner and I were working with the naga, killing and sacrificing Alliance and Horde soldiers indiscriminately, for the Masters,” she shrugged, “I never had any doubts about the cause I was fighting for. I died for it, more than once, without regret. Even when it all went to shit. Once I died for good, though… saw the Maw,” she shook her head, “All one big motherfucking lie.”

Her gaze returned to his, gauging his reaction. It felt strange, opening up to him again. It was like that first night they’d talked by the fire. This time, without the sexual tension. It was odd. She’d only ever spoken like this with Brent.

“Thankfully, for you, you’ve got a great cock. So, no. You were never in any danger.”

Grakkar’s expression was… neutral. Neutral for him. Brow furrowed, bottom lip pushed a bit forward. He was fighting a frown, it was plain to see. Slowly, he shook his head before looking at Kai’eka again.

“... I had no idea. To choose so poorly… to align yourself with a destructive power like that…”

He narrowed his eyes at Kai’eka for a tense moment. Judgingly-- no, not judging? Looking straight at him, his expression was no frown of anger, but one of sorrow. He reached his hand out, and planted it on Kai’eka’s shoulder. He sighed.

“I know what that’s like.” he admitted, nodding sympathetically. “I was blindly following my Warchief back on Draenor. When he told us that the Iron Horde would conquer worlds, I believed him. I fought for him, killing countless innocent people. Not just Draenei, but fellow Orcs too.”

Another heavy sigh, as his arm fell from Kai’eka’s shoulder, back down beside him. 

“It’s easy to get caught up in the wrong cause, sometimes. Neelah, my first mate, showed me how wrong I was in those days. Saved me from making any more terrible mistakes.” he went on. “We need people like that. Outside perspectives from those who care for us. If I had known back then, I--”

He tensed, eyes widening at the slip. Quickly he cleared his throat. 

“--That is… maybe I could have helped you see a better path. Without you having to die to see it, anyway.” he shrugged. “Though… you said it’s been working out well for you, too. So maybe not.”

He looked away, back out at the scenery-- if you could call it that-- of Maldraxxus. 

Kai’eka wasn’t entirely certain how to respond. She expected anger and criticism, and would have almost preferred it. That, at least, was familiar. She glanced to his hand as it rested on her shoulder, fighting the instinct to smack it away. Memories of how wonderful those hands had made her feel in the past… Strangely, they comforted her in a different way now.

Her features softened as he spoke of the Iron Horde. While he hadn’t spent six hundred years following the wrong cause, he at least understood the situation she’d gotten herself into. She was thankful he had someone able to pull him out before it was too late.

“It’s best you didn’t know,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I was part of a close knit group… we watched each other’s backs, and dealt with anyone who posed a threat to the cause, quickly and efficiently. One or both of us would have ended up dead. With no one to revive us for the better.”

Another shrug of the shoulders, “I know, because I did that for others. My brother… I killed his lover when I noticed the relationship started pulling him away from the Twilights. And then, eventually, I killed -him- too. Probably about a week before you broke things off with me. So… I think things worked out for the best.” She nodded, “You got the family you were fighting for, and I got a second chance to fight for a better cause. Hopefully, I’m killing for the right people this time.”

“--Wait, you killed him yourself?” Grakkar half-gasped, surprised. “I… Ancestors, I can’t begin to imagine what that must’ve been like.”

He commented… but opted not to dwell on that detail too long. He imagined it was a sensitive issue, especially considering that she died, as well. Was he around here somewhere, he wondered…?

“--Either way, you’re right. I think we both found better paths for ourselves. Somehow.” he chuckled lightly, to attempt to lighten the mood. “And I know it didn’t amount to anything, but… I enjoyed our, uh… associating, back then.”

Ugh. That felt like something Argonas would say. So tactful and proper, rather than just saying it straight up. This soulbinding had its drawbacks…

“You’re a good fuck. And an even better fighter.” he added bluntly, as he preferred. “I’m glad we met. And glad you’re still around.”

Despite her best efforts, a contented smile formed on her usually hard features. It felt good to finally open up to him. Other than Brent, she’d never felt this close to anyone before. It was both comforting and frightening at once. And she had to fight a knee jerk reaction to push him away.

“Mutual,” she replied, “I uh… I’m pretty shit at making friends, for obvious reasons. So… it’s nice, you know… when people stick around. Even when I do my best to push them away.”

She half expected Brent to step out of the shadows and poke fun at her after this, but somehow knew he wouldn’t. Something had certainly changed since she’d died. He never bothered to check up on her anymore. She tried not to dwell on it much, but it upset her much more than she wanted to admit.

She reached out to take his large hand, slipping a pointed rune etched object into it.

“That being said. If ever you’re looking for a good spar, or just someone to join you in battle, don’t hesitate to contact me. You can use this to reach out,” she nodded to the object she’d placed in his hand, a pit lord fang, “Just concentrate on the rune, speak into it, and I’ll get the message. Not entirely sure how it works. Magic’s not my specialty. Never was. Still new to the whole Ebon Blade shit. Also, you might want to warn your wife that I’ll be showing up at the farm from time to time to check up on Doofus.”

“Hah, alright. We’re used to Death Knight friends popping in from time to time, so I don’t think she’ll mind.” He nodded, pocketing the runed fang. “We’ll definitely have to spar sometime. I haven’t had a good one-on-one fight in a while, so that’ll be fun to have a friendly match. See how much stronger you are, now that you’re undead.”

With that, Grakkar’s attention was drawn upward-- the squadron of Kyrian took flight from the Seat Overlook. Which meant Argonas wouldn’t be far along behind them. It seemed their mission was finally over, here-- and not a moment too soon!

“Well, that’s my cue. My Soulbind will be along in a bit, and then we’re headed back.” he explained, as he stood up and picked up his axe. “But it was really good to see you again, Kai.”

“--Kai? Kai’eka?”

A less-familiar voice rang out from the stairs above them. The clopping and clanking of plated hooves echoed through the air as Argonas descended, eyeing the Death Knight.

“Well met! Quite a coincidence, finding you here.” he nodded, drawing close.

“--Ah, er, um… you know each other?” Grakkar asked, brow askew.

“We sparred once, I believe. In Stormwind. But do not worry, Grakkar-- not the kind of sparring you do with her, yes?”

The Orc snarled at Argonas, shoving his shoulder to turn him away-- another unfortunate side effect of the Soulbinding. He pushed and followed after Argonas quickly, waving quickly back at Kai’eka.

“--We, uh… we gotta go!” he said, hastily. “Good catching up! See you around, yeah?”

“Yes, always a pleasure, Warchief!” Argonas added, smirking.

Kai’eka’s expression went from content, to puzzled, to angry, all in the short span of Argonas showing up. She snarled at the pet name and stood up, gripping her sword. She had half a mind to throw it at the retreating pair, but thought better of it. Losing one rune blade had been enough for today.

“Motherfucker...” she grumbled to herself, before heading up the stairs to meet Avehi.

One thing was for certain, Grakkar would have questions to answer when next they met!

~*~*~

[sinafay-the-defiant]

Nearer to Death

((Story co-written with @grakkar-gorefang / @thefugitivemango . @argonas​ and @avehi-the-adamant for character mention))

~*~*~

So small, so precious… 

Grakkar was always in amazement when he held little Neelah in his arms. She’d grown quite a bit, but the orc could still hold her (mostly) in one hand. He cradled the sleeping little one close, palming the back of her head while her body rested along his forearm. She slept so peacefully… blissfully unaware of anything that had happened these past few weeks. --Well… not entirely. She got fussy around Sinafay, seeming to sense her tension. That didn’t make things any easier, Grakkar knew. A part of him was sure that it was his mate’s need for help that helped him heal as fast as he did… which still took time, of course. He’d died, after all. And he wasn’t the young, sturdy orc he was on Draenor…

Still, now that he could, he helped as much as he was able. Tending to Neelah wasn’t much of a chore for him anyway, but a reprieve from the constant attention she demanded was a boon to Sinafay. Grakkar didn’t mind. She was a gift, in every sense of the word. He never thought he’d have a child of his own; less so with a Draenei! He thought he was infertile, and knew Draenei pregnancies were a rarity. And yet here she was, a beautiful mix of her mother and him-- fortunately, a bit more of her mother-- sleeping soundly in his arms. Even coming back from the dead was only the third-luckiest event in his life. The second, meeting Sinafay. The first, Neelah. 

“... Grakkar…”

Grakkar winced, and grunted. Another nameless whisper echoed from the back of his mind. A voice he didn’t recognize, calling out his name. He heard them clearly more often his dreams, but… sometimes, throughout the waking day, he’d hear them. It wasn’t always the same voice, and they didn’t always call out his name. All of this starting after he came back from that place… from the Maw. In truth, a part of him didn’t believe Sinafay when she’d told him what her Ebon Knight friend had said. It had seemed so outlandish a claim. But seeing it for himself… it was now undeniable. Countless souls trapped in such a terrible, desolate place! He wondered… were they the voices he was hearing? According to clan shamans, near-death experiences often awoke a spiritual connection between a person and the afterlife.

And Grakkar had come as close to death as anyone could get.

For now, he pushed the concerns from his mind. He wasn’t going to let these strange voices dampen his appreciation for lasting to another sunset with his daughter. Gently, he put Neelah down in her bassinet, and swaddled her in a warm blanket. 

“Sleep in peace, my little one.” he smiled, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on her hardening forehead. “Know that I love you, now and always.”

Sinafay smiled from the doorway as she watched her mate put their daughter to bed. She’d never imagined herself as a mother, but having a child with Grakkar was by far the best thing that had ever happened to her. She hadn’t been able to cherish these moments as of late, too tired and stressed to appreciate them after Argonas’ sudden attack. She’d been far too on edge, suspicious of every odd noise and movement on the farm. 

Avehi’s arrival was a relief in more than one way. Not only did it bring her precious information on what was going on after that horrible event, but it gave her a much needed rest from her exhausting vigil. With the Ebon Knight and her drake guarding the farm, Sinafay was able to get a bath and some much needed sleep. She wasn’t certain how many hours she’d been out for, but she’d woken up on time to see the touching display between her mate and their daughter.

“You’re going to spoil her, aren’t you?” She teased, with only a light Draenei accent in her Orcish now. She kept her voice low, as to not wake the sleeping infant.

Tail swaying, she walked over and wrapped her arms around Grakkar’s torso from behind, pressing her naked chest to his back as she hugged him tightly.

“Fatherhood suits you well,” she purred.

“Only paired with your motherhood.” Grakkar replied, hands closing over his mate’s.

He exhaled a sigh; gazing down at his daughter, feeling his wife’s warm embrace… this was perfect. A paradise he never knew he wanted. A dream from which he never wanted to wake.

“... help us…”

The moment passed, spoiled by yet another voice calling from the back of his mind. The messages were usually similar. “Help up, save us…” most disconcerting. He wished he knew where they were coming from. Rather… knew for sure. He parted Sinafay’s hands from around his waist to turn in her embrace.

“Come, speak with me.” he bid her, before passing her by on his way out of the room.

Sinafay tilted her head curiously. Speaking hadn’t exactly been what she’d been looking for, but at this point, any alone time with Grakkar was a good time. It certainly beat her standing guard over the farm alone. She -did- often wonder what was on his mind since his return to the living. He didn’t enjoy speaking of what he saw, the memories disturbing, so she didn’t like to push. Perhaps he was ready to speak on it now?

She followed him out of Neelah’s room and into their own. The bed was simple, but large and sturdy, covered in pelts from the various creatures Grakkar had managed to hunt down and bring home. The Draenei sat on the bed, tail curling around her form as she took Grakkar’s hands in hers.

“What’s on your mind, My Love?”

Grakkar was silent for a moment, simply holding Sinafay’s hands as he stood before her. Thumbs traced over the backs, then along the sides of her thumbs. He stared off at her chest-- not so much ‘at’ as ‘through’, contemplatively. Slowly, he organized his thoughts, piece by piece, before his gaze met his Mate’s. A natural smile formed over his lips; a reflex, feeling the warmth of her golden globes shining into his. He couldn’t help it, even in spite of the heavy topic weighing on his mind.

“I, uh…” he began, already seeming to lose his focus in her shimmering gaze. “I… think often about our village’s shaman, back on Draenor. Otrok.”

He cleared his throat, before sitting down beside Sinafay on their bed. It creaked, as it always seemed to when they both occupied it. He’d have to reinforce it again, for the second time this season. But that could wait. One hand kept hold of hers, the other resting in his lap as he continued.

“Otrok was a pup, when the Ancestors called on him. We used to tease him for it-- the youngest shaman we ever knew.” the Orc let out a jovial huff at the memory. “His mentor and predecessor, Meshi, she’d whack us on the knuckles or zap us with lightning when we did. Defensive of little pup Otrok, that one. She’d tell us that it was nothing we should tease him for. That ‘the Ancestor’s call can come at any time. At any age.’ And we’d, of course, nod along as we took the lecture.”

Gently, he gave Sinafay’s hand a squeeze.

“... I think they call to me, now.”

“Calling -how-?” Sinafay couldn’t help but ask, tilting her head in confusion.

She didn’t understand at all how shamanism worked, had never bothered to look into it. She’d been averse to the very idea of it due to her alternate self being so immersed. Even now, the thought of Grakkar showing interest in it irked her. Leftover jealousy…

At least -she- wasn’t alive anymore.

For now, she pushed those negative feelings back. Even if her mate became interested in that path, she had nothing but support for him. Especially this late in his lifetime, she wanted whatever would be soothing to his soul. On that note, there was a more pressing question.

“What are you supposed to do when they call on you?”

"Answer."

A logical enough answer, predictable as it was. Grakkar nodded slowly, searching Sinafay's face for… anything. A reaction. A showing of how she felt about the revelation. She understood, right?

She somehow managed not to twitch...

"The Ancestors, they… they mean much to my kind. You know this, I know, but…" he sighed, brow furrowing. "It is an honor, but also a responsibility. They call with a purpose, and to ignore them is to dishonor them. Sina… I need to answer. I need to learn how. And for that, I need to seek out a shaman." 

Sinafay frowned heavily, baring her fangs in displeasure as she turned her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. There was no question. She hated the thought, no matter how supportive she was trying to be.

“We fought so hard to finally be together,” she couldn’t help but voice, “After everything that happened a few weeks ago, you cannot be serious about leaving. There must be some other way…”

She took his hand and brought it to her face, pressing her lips to his finger tips.

“How about you ask a shaman to come teach you here. Neelah needs you,” she took a moment to suckle on his index finger a bit more before adding in a sensual tone, “-I- need you.”

Grakkar’s hand moved to cup Sinafay’s face, fingertips idly massaging the back of her head as his thumb brushed along her cheek. He smiled, unable to help but chuckle at his mate’s… forwardness. It was endearing-- and she had a point. They’d worked so hard to be together. Suffered through all manner of pain and anguish. He didn’t want to leave. But he didn’t want to ignore the call, either. He exhaled a sigh.’

“I have to find one, first. One who would travel out here… and wouldn’t get upset at seeing how we live.” he explained, brow furrowing a bit. “That will be a challenge. And either way, I’d still have to leave.”

The Draenei’s frown deepened. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions. Her tail had gone from swaying to twitching, arms crossing over her chest as she worried her bottom lip. She was upset. Angry. Not with her mate, specifically, but at the situation, as a whole. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek deeper into his palm.

She hated this. But she knew better than to try and stop him. Orcs were stubborn creatures.

“Not right away. I need a bit of time, my Love. Time with you, before you go on your journey,” she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him as her eyes fluttered open once more, “And you visit weekly when you -do- go.”

“Hopefully more, if I can manage it.” he replied. “I don’t want to be too far from you and Neelah. Whatever the Ancestors have in store for me… it will include us all. I only need to leave to find out what that is, first.”

He tilted Sinafay’s head up, leveling his gaze with hers. Stern as his expression was, his eyes conveyed a deep affection for his mate, and a genuine concern for her well-being. He’d given this a lot of thought already.

“You and Neelah are everything to me. You know that, right?” he smiled, weakly. “The Ancestors must know it, too. This calling… whatever it is, it’s as much for you and her as it is for me.”

She gave a nod, meeting his gaze now, but couldn’t quite shake her anxiety over the situation. They’d barely begun to recover from Argonas’ attack, and now this… Leaning forward, she gently pressed her crest against his forehead.

“I love you, Grakkar. And I trust you.”

[avehi-the-adamant]

Second Chances

By now, the Exodar had long served as a home for the Draenei. Having used it to flee their shattered and doomed territories on Draenor, the Exodar was a familiar comfort to many. But to Avehi, it was a stifling cradle which she had outgrown. Once she called it home, yes. But even before her ill-timed fate, the Exodar was never a place she wished to spend her days. It was a trap; the Prophet chose to remain to be among his people, and the skittish people remained to cling unto the Prophet. Why here? It was just a ship, after all; a vessel meant to translocate her people to a safer world. And it had… years ago. Her people weren’t meant to live in the wreckage of the vessel that brought them here! Now, the Exodar only served as a hive for those too scared or afraid to venture out further than the Isles. It had become a breeding ground for xenophobia and closed-mindedness. And the Death Knight found it abhorrent.

Returning was never pleasant; for that reason, and others. The irritating tinge of Light energies soaked into every stone and crystal felt irradiating to her now. It had been years now, since O’ros was destroyed here by the Legion. But his presence remained, permeated into the vessel itself. It was stifling. Avehi’s lips curled to an uncomfortable snarl as she paced through the metallic corridors. She’d come here with a purpose, but every step she took made her wonder whether or not it was worth the trouble. She had almost turned back twice, now. But both times, Raetos’ face flashed across her mind’s eye. His words echoing in her thoughts.

“He is actually sorry and apologetic for what he did…”

“He knows he did wrong. He died for it. The Grand Vindicator judged that he deserved a chance to repent and make amends… “

“Repentance means he learned and aims to do better…”

‘Damn it, Raetos…’ she thought to herself, in a huff. How could someone so dumb also be so wise? It didn’t help at all that he, himself, was living proof that a zealot could reform and better themselves. He was almost worse than Argonas was, when she first met him. Argonas at least treated her with a modicum of reverence for having perished in battle. Raetos, meanwhile, had insisted she hadn’t joined with the Light because her faith wasn’t strong enough. But he’d come so far since then; now, he was dating a Void Elf and lecturing her on not judging others by their practices and beliefs. She hated that he was right about Argonas-- he at least deserved a chance at repentance. And that’s why she was here.

Avehi stepped out into the Crystal Halls; of all the sections of the Exodar, this was her favorite. Serene and calming, without the blinding Light glaring down from every corner. No, it was a relaxing place, with reflecting pools and - as the name implied - softly-glowing purple and blue crystals. It reminded her of Shadowmoon Valley, and the time she spent there with her mother. Perhaps that was why it seemed to calm her irritations. As expected, she saw a familiar broad-shouldered figure kneeling beside one of the pools. She knew few Draenei as large in stature as Argonas; one of only a few mortals whose natural strength rivaled the unholy strength granted to her by virtue of undeath. She remembered learning that in their grapple when all of his interference first began…

--No, she pushed the thought from her mind! That train of thought was a slippery slope to changing the tone of this visit from forgiving to vindictive. That wasn’t why she was here.

“Argonas.” she called out, stopping a comfortable distance from him.

He turned, tail twitching as his name was called. Argonas stood as he looked at Avehi. He’d let himself go, it seemed-- generally he was very precise about his professional and clean appearance, trimming his hair and keeping clean-shaven. But now, he bore a thick beard, and the hair behind his crest was easily twice as long as usual, tied back into a loose ponytail. He wasn’t in his armor today; another deviation from his norm. Instead, he wore a simple sleeveless shirt and cotton-woven pants. Avehi peered at the runic scars etched into his arms. She’d heard of what happened to him in Tanaan… but had never seen the scars until now. Argonas approached, expression both hopeful and contrite. He bowed his head, stopping an arm’s length from Avehi.

“Sister… you bring news? Is it time?” he asked, a glint of determination in his tone.

Honestly, it had been some time since Argonas referred to Avehi as ‘Sister’. The honorific dealt between Draenei helped instill a sense of community and equality among one another. It wasn’t fitting to call your betters-- Argonas would never call the High Vindicator ‘Brother’, for example. But the act of not calling Avehi ‘Sister’ for so long was, admittedly, scornful. Petty, even. Just another of his wrongdoings for which he had to atone. He was still wary of Avehi, but no longer for the same reasons as before. He had seen what awaited the departed in the Maw. He bore witness to the horrors those killed and cast into it had to endure. Avehi was fighting to right those wrongs. He knew that now. What had him wary was Avehi’s demeanor in Arathi, as he was brought back. He was wary of the pain he’d caused her, knew full well that were their positions reversed… he’d be vengeful. Why wouldn’t she be?

Much to Argonas’ surprise, Avehi didn’t appear hostile. Her expression still bore the beginnings of a scowl, but somehow dulled. Softened. She didn’t seem as mad… more disappointed. Somehow it was worse.

“Not yet. Not for you.” Avehi replied, plainly. “I am not here with any news. Rather… to speak.”

“Speak?” Argonas blinked, confused.

“To… check on you.”

Avehi glanced away, tail flickering. This was harder than she had anticipated. Awkward and tense. She and Argonas had never been close, despite sharing similar experiences. Both were trained by High Vindicator Khanaros, but at separate times. They lived in separate regions on Draenor, and were assigned to different posts. Their lives had taken them down different paths, even along the same major events. When the Exodar crashed on Azeroth, Argonas mourned his fallen love while Avehi ventured out to deliver vengeance upon the elves that sabotaged their ship. And yet, for all their differences, they had similarities in their paths, too. Again, trained by Khanaros, who forged them into some of the best defenders of their people. Their parents were artisans, crafting weapons, armor, and tools from metal and crystal. And now, just as dying had opened Avehi’s eyes… it had opened Argonas’ eyes, too. Considering that helped to dissipate some of the tension.

“When I died and came back… it was shocking to me, as well.” she explained, her gaze meeting his again. “One of the short-comings of such a singular path, like how you and I were brought up, is that we never learned to deal with the reality that the sole path we’re taught doesn’t account for everything. For me, being raised as undead rather than joining with the Light, like I was promised, was more painful to me than when I actually died.”

Argonas was speechless; for the best. Listening seemed much more appropriate as Avehi opened up to him. He didn’t expect her to sympathize with him… or honestly, to even try. In all the time he’d known her, she’d never reached out to find any measure of common ground between them. Then again… neither did he. The two were so caught up in their differences, they never considered the experiences they shared. And now, of all things, dying was one of them.

“I suppose what I’m saying is… I know what you’re experiencing right now. Before I died, I was like you.” she went on. “I… looked down on anyone who did not incorporate the Light into their lives. But the Light alone can’t answer all the problems we face. History has proven that, too; the Krokul and shamanism helped us to heal the land and gain allies in the elements. The Demon Hunters, too, helped us return to Argus and join with our Lightforged kin to defeat the Legion. And now… those like me who are undead will lead us into the Shadowlands to fight for the souls of our people!”

She recoiled some at her own words-- not out of any disbelief or discomfort with them. But she hadn’t intended to lay on the point so heavily. As she well knew, Argonas was experiencing a crisis of identity. All he knew was altered. And it wasn’t an easy realization to accept. But she had hoped that, in highlighting truths she had learned, that he’d manage to cope with it better.

“You see that now, yes?” she asked, in a calmer tone. “The Light is one of many paths. And all paths have their uses.”

“I… know this.” Argonas nodded, brow furrowed slightly. “I have always known this. But… until now, I have always managed to accomplish what was needed through the Light. Even surviving on Argus was the Light’s doing. It delivered me from death. What bothers me is… I have never known why. I still do not. Why would the Light spare me, if there is nothing I can do for my people?”

“Nothing? Argonas…” Avehi frowned, shaking her head. “You are a Vindicator. A protector of our people. There is much you can do for our people. Those living, and those departed.”

She reached forward, placing her cold, plated hand on Argonas’ shoulder. Her lichfire eyes pierced his now, commanding his full attention-- and he gave it entirely to her, both wary and intrigued.

“You’ve learned much you would not have, had you died on Argus, yes? What good would you be to our people dead, trapped in the Maw?” she asked. “You want to know why the Light delivered you? To help deliver more of our people from that terrible fate. People like Sinafay.”

“--Y-Yes! Yes, I must save her!”

“We must save her. We must save all of our kin, Argonas. You would not know that, nor be equipped to, if you had died on Argus.”

She jostled him, emphasizing her point before pulling her hand back. With a nod, she stepped back from Argonas. His expression had changed to one of pure conviction. He peered back at Avehi, and returned the nod.

“You… are right. This affects not just Sinafay, but all our people. And I… I cannot make a difference myself. The Light can help, but I must get there, first. And that is what you can do, yes? That is what you and the Ebon Blade are working towards?”

“Mm. The time will come soon.” Avehi replied. “And when it does… you will come with me. We will redeem our trapped kin together.”

Standing tall and proud once more, Argonas grunted his affirmation. It seemed to be precisely what he needed-- a call to arms. A purpose. And Avehi was somehow glad to see his spirit lifted and his motivation restored. And now… toward a goal they shared. He smiled at Avehi, and bowed his head.

“Thank you, Avehi. I… know I have not treated you well in the past.” he apologized, sincerely. “I appreciate you including me in this important work, nonetheless. I am in your debt.”

Avehi shook her head, and returned the smile. She could tell Argonas was earnest in his contrition. She knew well what he was enduring. The pain he faced, and the resolve he needed to find purpose after such a traumatic shattering of his reality. It was something she needed once, too. Raetos’ words echoed once more in her mind; and she echoed them here now, to Argonas.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

[argonas]

Misguided Justice - Pt. I

[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini​ / @sinafay-the-defiant​ ]]

Evening had descended by the time Argonas set hoof on the small Arathi farmstead. Quaint and simple, the Vindicator could barely believe this is where his wayward student Sinafay had settled down. No measure of justice was served from such a simple life. But then, he knew she’d abandoned such duties in favor of her abhorrent and deviant lifestyle. His fists clenched as he paced up the hill from the fields proper, towards the small cottage overlooking the land. Smoke billowing from the chimney served as a sure sign someone was home. Sinafay… Grakkar… that abomination they called a child… he expected to find all three inside. Disgusting and unnatural as it was, that wasn’t even why Argonas was here. No, Sinafay’s transgressions far exceeded that, now.

Despite Raetos’ unwillingness to do what was necessary, and his efforts to convince the Vindicator of such, Argonas knew otherwise. Anyone who abided such evils as Avehi raising the dead were just as culpable as she was! By harboring and abetting the Death Knight, Sinafay had made her choice. And the Light demanded its justice. It almost hurt to consider; he really had taken pride in training young Sinafay in the ways of the Light, helping to nurture and cultivate her talents into a beacon of strength for their people. Such a waste…

His heavy hand banged against the wooden door - so fragile, he worried it might break if he hit it too hard. Still, the firm knocks echoed through the farmstead, as the Vindicator made his presence known.

“Sinafay!” he called out. “Sinafay the Defiant!”

It didn’t take very long for the door to open, revealing a very angry looking Draenei, brows knit into a scowl. She’d done a great job at losing the baby weight, already a good way back to her Vindicator fitness level. She wore a lovely, yet simple robe, ideal for a busy mother, yet accentuated her natural curves and showed off her Light bound tattoos. 

“Argonas,” she scolded, “Do you mind maybe NOT waking the baby I just put to sleep?!”

She pushed forward to try and shove the Vindicator back, but Argonas was unmovable as always, and in his full armor of course! With a frustrated huff, she moved around him, shutting the door behind her as she began to walk down the hill, tail twitching. Best to do the yelling away from Neelah. She couldn’t imagine what her former mentor was doing here at this time of night.

“What the FUCK are you doing here?!” She growled.

Perhaps it was motherhood, the hormones raging through her. Or perhaps coupling with a filthy Orc for too long had boosted her aggression. Maybe, partly, she was upset to see him again after how he left things with her. There were many likely factors, but no matter what or why, Sinafay was being terribly bitchy. It wasn't the attractive sour attitude he cherished in his departed mate, either; she was just being erratic and grumpy. Terribly unappealing!

He followed her a ways down the hill, stern expression his only real response to her demeanor. He looked her over, a mixture of sorrow and regret overcoming him. Oh how far she'd fallen… even glistening with the Light from her Lightforging did little to make her seem redeemable after such a terrible track her life had followed. It pained him to see his former pupil like this. Such shame he felt, clearly having failed to teach her not to parlay with savage orcs, or aide depraved Death Knights. She was his greatest failure.

"... I am told you sheltered and aided Avehi. Is this true?" Argonas asked, bluntly.

Sinafay raised a brow, turning to look at him as the question was asked. She relaxed a bit, having shaken off the anger now that they were a fair distance away from the house.

“She was here a few months ago; came across the farm by happenstance. Hadn’t seen each other for a while, so we caught up. Went on her way after that.”

Sinafay crosses her arms over her chest. Why was Argonas looking for Avehi? She thought back on her conversation with the Death Knight, frowning. She finally took a moment to look the Vindicator over; those dark circles under his eyes… and something looked off in that luminous gaze of his. Something she’d missed in her earlier frustration.

“If that’s what you mean by ‘sheltered and aided’, then yeah, I guess I did. Why?”

“She has dragged you into her terrible misdeeds.” Argonas elaborated, albeit vaguely. “Avehi has been raising the dead for nefarious purposes. If you are a friend to her, she will likely come here to seek shelter again. To hide from the Light’s justice.”

His eyes narrowed, as he reached back to draw his crystalline blade.

“This, I cannot allow.”

Sinafay didn’t wait a moment longer to see where the conversation was leading. She’d seen this exact situation play out too many times, on Draenor, to those suspected of aiding the Mag’har under Yrel’s reign.

She wasn’t about to allow him to use that blade. While she’d taken on a more domestic role over the past months, she’d kept her senses sharp. Having an Orc mate who enjoyed a good spar helped quite a bit.

Her eyes flared, hands slamming into the large Vindicator’s chest with a powerful blast of Holy Light to push him back before taking on a defensive position.

“I suppose I was right to not have trusted you after all.”

It hurt to have her suspicions realized. To know that her mentor was as blinded as the people she’d left behind on her world. She felt justified, in a way, the guilt of hiding her relationship with Grakkar from him washing away.

“Leave us be, Argonas,” she warned, baring her teeth, “This is your only warning.”

The Vindicator’s hooves scraped along the ground, slowing him from skidding too far back. He grunted, frowning deeper at Sinafay. He expected resistance, of course. He’d trained her well enough not to take a death threat lying down!

“Do you think I want to do this? I thought I had taught you better! But you have fallen so far from the path I laid out for you!” he growled, plated fist tightening around the hilt of his blade. “You failed! You abandoned your post! You betrayed our kin on Draenor, breaking your vow to protect them! And for an Orc!?”

“Hmph. Consider it my highest honor.” Sinafay shot back, defiantly.

Argonas grunted. He rushed in, hoofsteps hastened by the Light itself in a furious charge. He swung his sword in a wide arc towards Sinafay. Sinafay shot forward as he charged. She didn’t have a weapon or armor, but knew agility wasn’t Argonas’ strong suit, and planned to use that to her advantage. She rolled as he swung, just passed his right leg to end up behind him, her tail wrapped around his ankle, tugging it back with her momentum as she got to her hooves. 

She didn’t turn back to look if he’d fallen forward or not as she kept running; hoping she’d bought herself a bit of time as she headed towards Grakkar’s workshop. She knew there would be a weapon or something there she could use to defend herself with. The Lightbound could hear nothing but her rapid heartbeat as adrenaline rushed through her system, making it impossible to know if he was right behind her or not.

Suddenly, a bolt of Light struck her shoulder, knocking her off balance just as she reached the workshop. She stumbled and fell into the door, crashing through it! The heavy hoofbeats of Argonas closed in, making up what distance the tripping attack bought had cost him.

“And now, you abide by such abhorrence as Avehi raising the dead! Our own people, enthralled by her necrotic powers!” he continued to charge Sinafay, shouting aggressively. “I know not what set you on such a depraved path after we parted, Sina. But it has led to this final judgment! The Light will not tolerate your abusing its blessing to supplement death and pain to its chosen people!”

He brought his blade up for an overhead swing, cutting straight down vertically!

Sinafay barely had time to cocoon herself within a barrier of Light. Argonas’ sword crashed into it, causing sparks to fly and crackle in a near blinding light show as the holy forces fought against each other. The Lightbound woman grit her teeth as the barrier cracked under the pressure of the Vindicator’s strength. She was out of practice, and her former mentor’s conviction was too strong. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but she would fight to the bitter end.

And that end grew closer as the barrier shattered. She tried to roll to the side but the blade found purchase in her side, forcing a cry out of her as blue blood oozed out of the wound. She reached out, hands grabbing the Vindicator’s wrists as her hooves kicked out at his face in a final act of defiance.

Argonas stumbled back, but not far. Swift and firm as the kick was, there was an insurmountable difference in stature between the two Vindicators. His face immediately began to swell up at the impact point of Sinafay’s hoof, but that only seemed to infuriate him more. The grinding of his plate gauntlet along the hilt of his crystalline blade rang out sharply as he shifted his grip. He took the sword in his hands, and lined up the piercing point with his former pupil’s chest.

“Through me, the Light’s justice will be served! The mistakes I made in judging the true measures of your character will at long last be corrected!”

He raised his blade, eyes narrowing as he started to bring it down to finish his grim task-- when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped tensely around his waist! From behind him, Grakkar took hold of the Vindicator and heaved him upward and over himself with a mighty roar! The Draenei was caught off-guard, and thrown over onto his back as Grakkar arched and kicked back and away from Sinafay. Argonas came crashing down on his shoulders and the back of his head, driving his chin into his chest plate as the rest of his heavy plated body rolled over the top of him! He was stunned! The wind knocked from him entirely as Grakkar threw him back!

“Get away from my mate, you honorless piece of clefthoof shit!” the Warsong shouted, snarling at Argonas.

He gave little time for the abettor to recover, rushing in to keep up the pressure. As Argonas rolled over and brought himself up to his hands and knees, Grakkar ran up and took hold of his head. Lining it up, he carried his momentum and slammed his knee into the Draenei’s crest! 

*CRACK* 

Argonas rolled over from both the pain, and the force of the impact to his face! But the assault didn’t end there. Grakkar trudged up alongside the writhing and bewildered Draenei. He knelt down scooping up a small handful of dirt to toss into the Vindicator’s face! Then, he just started punching! Once, again, three times! He bloodied his fist against the Draenei’s plated crest, pounding his face over and over with unyielding fury! 

Argonas did what he could to protect himself, but he couldn’t see his assaulter, much less block the barrage of punches! He’d dropped his sword, and couldn’t afford to reach out and feel for it nearby. That would only give the Orc more openings! Instead, he curled in, doing his best to cover his face with one arm as he swatted at Grakkar blindly with the other in hopes of deflecting or softening the next blow coming his way. One wild swipe caught hold of something - the Orc’s forearm. Success! With all his might, he ripped the Orc’s arm towards him, counter attacking with a punch of his own. He felt his plated fist connect, knocking the Orc back and away from him. Only for a moment… but the moment was all he needed.

Bringing his hooves back beneath him, Argonas stood up and quickly brushed the dirt and blood from his face. His luminous eyes set onto Grakkar, who also recuperated from their exchange of blows. For a moment, the two stared one another down.

“The Light… judges you too, Orc filth!” Argonas grunted.

“Fuck your Light!” Grakkar shot back, snarling.

With a furious shout, the Orc rushed at Argonas yet again. The Draenei took up a defensive stance, readying himself as Grakkar drew near. He knew he couldn’t match the Orc’s agility; their fight in Kun-Lai had taught him that, well enough. Instead he dug in his hooves, tail swaying limber behind him to keep his balance. As the Orc took his swing, Argonas brought his forearms up to block the incoming blow. Then the next. Teeth grit as he held firm his position, Argonas bided the Orc’s assault like a statue! He was ready for him, this time. Ready and waiting for his opening. His hands and arms felt raw, jarred and pulsing from the plate gauntlets reverberating each repeated strike. But he held his ground.

Grakkar raged on, throwing punch after punch in the hopes of landing one or two good blows, enough to throw his opponent off of the defensive. But the Vindicator was stoic! Unyielding! The old Orc already felt fatigue setting in. How long had it been since he had a good fight like this? Since settling down with Sinafay, and their young daughter Neelah, he hadn’t been in too many scrapes. His rustiness was taxing him now, exacting the toll of his inactivity. His blows began to slow, punches falling slower and softer against the same blood-smeared plate gloves the Draenei used to defend himself. His knuckles were pulp, each screaming a searing pain from crashing into the inexorable metal again and again. He rotated in a kick to mix it up, hoping to knock the Draenei over, but he might as well have kicked a boulder. One more punch. Another. Until finally the futility of it drained Grakkar entirely. He staggered back, growling.

And that was Argonas’ opening.

The blast of Light illuminated the farmstead, bright as high noon for only a split second. Argonas’ retributive burst was more than enough to knock the weary Orc over. The Vindicator charged, hoofbeats hastened by the Light’s gift to surge the mass of muscle and steel towards Grakkar. He’d barely managed to keep his balance, only for Argonas to slam into him like a rampaging elekk. The Orc felt his body tossed back, and yet he didn’t go far. Argonas gripped him tightly to keep him from sailing too far away from the impact, instead simply slamming him into the ground before him. The Orc’s pained howl was a symphony to the Vindicator. Retribution for so much pain that not only this Orc caused him personally, but all Orcs caused his people! Quickly, he followed up by stomping his hoof into the vile creature’s chest! Still surging with the Light, his plated hoof shoe seared into Grakkar’s flesh, causing him to writhe and moan in pain!

“You have caused enough trouble!” Argonas declared, pressing his hoof down harder. “And now, you will cause no more!”

Grakkar struggled, gripping the Draenei’s leg as he gave all his might to try and push back, but not only did the Draenei significantly outmatch his strength, his plated form weighed a ton! It took all the Orc’s might just to keep the hoof at bay! Even then, he felt his ribs bending and cracking, the hoof melting his skin. It became hard to breath, his cries of agony turning to harsh and hoarse gasps as Argonas pressed harder. He’d been in enough fights to know when he’d lost. And this… this was it. This was the end. 

His eyes widened at the realization, his expression of anger and rage replaced by one of fear. Despair. He had failed. He couldn’t protect his mate. His daughter. After everything he’d done, all the effort and sacrifice he’d made to protect Sinafay, to free her from bondage on Draenor… only for her to die here at the hands of another Light-crazed zealot. He strained a little harder, but nothing he could do would be enough to overpower Argonas. But he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t! He turned his head, looking over towards the workshop where Sinafay was. He couldn’t see her… and that hurt all the more, unable to lay eyes on his mate one final time. His strength began to wane.

“I’m… sorry…” Grakkar grunted, as his grip finally slipped.

*CRUNCH*

~*~

TO BE CONTINUED...

[sylaesschasewind]

Gamble

Sylaess wasn’t sure of the plan she had laid, but it was there. Breathing out slowly through slightly parted lips, she gathered herself. Right, now stop being so knee-shakingly terrified. Its Argonas. He won’t force the Light on you. Breathe, you idiot. The self-doubt was so real, though. Tangible. A solid weight in her chest. But it was time. She felt it like a storm on the horizon. A twist in her gut; this was the best chance she had at protecting him.

She shook her head, pinning the braid up on top of her head before she rapped on his door with one knuckle. Dressed down in half-plate and high soft boots, she looked almost urbane if not for the massive scar on her head and twin swords jutting over her shoulders. Anxiety settled in. The energy bubbled through her.

“Argonas.” Called quietly through the door. “You should pack your things up.”

---

There was silence for a moment on the other side of the door. Then… a clattering. Something big moving, without much coordination. A thump, the skidding of a dresser, and a deep grumbling sigh… then the door was unlatched and pulled open before the kaldorei’s eyes. Beyond the door frame, Argonas stood - hardly decent. Shirtless and pantsless, outright. And as form fitting as his undergarments were, he might as well have been devoid of those as well. He squinted, bleary-eyed out of his room at the Death Knight.

“--Sylaess? What is the meaning of this?” he asked, a gruff edge in his tone. “It is the middle of the night! You may not sleep, but I do!”

-------

The thin lips formed a small line on her face. Although mildly surprised, nudity didn’t shake her from the air of concern. The sounds of him fumbling through the room made her acutely aware of the mistaken time suddenly. “Is it? Damn.” She breathed out a slow, soft breath, recalculating. Eyes distant a moment. No; she didn’t have a good enough excuse to pull him up out of sleep like this. How foolish! Frustration at the mistake gnawed its way at her patience. It took her a moment to come up with a reply. Too occupied. “First thing in the morning, then.”

Quietly spoken, a little rough at the edges. Oh, she felt her courage slipping. An inward grimace, though her face remained neutral. She tugged her cloak about herself tightly. Thinking hard. Turned away. Rushing because she’d gotten to herself. Again. What foolishness! But she was right to be worried. There was always a right to be worried when dealing with...

She settled herself. She wouldn’t go far. Keep a watch on the place. The shadowlands had messed with her time-sense but that wasn’t unusual. Just annoying. If it happened again? Well. She’d deal with it then. He’s a Vindicator, Syl, not some helpless puppy. Steady yourself. Or did you want to buy into fear and stupidity? Exasperation. 

Sylaess settled not too far away. Patience was a guise but she held to it. Outside, the air was cool. A comfort. But she was so deep in her thoughts, she may as well have been a statue. Dew settled on her, freezing in tiny droplets against her dull cloak. 

She went over the plan meticulously.  Over and over, thinking through scenarios. Variables. It was complicated. So many chances for variation left her wholly unsure of success. In the late hour, few people were out on the street. They all gave her a wide berth.

---

Being so half asleep left Argonas sluggish, and slow to respond as Sylaess darted away, as quickly as she’d arrived. For a moment, he stood in the doorway of his small (for him) rented apartment, wondering if she was even really there! Was this some weird dream? Fingertips rubbed the sleep from his eyes, before he glanced around the darkened streets of Boralus once more for any sign she had really come to visit. 

The trailing aura was enough.

He didn’t like ‘offensive’ as a term to describe it, though undeath did have a ‘tinge’ that registered strongly on his divine senses. Obtusely, even in fleeting interactions such as theirs. It wasn’t anything he could stomach, of course. Merely heightened awareness of Sylaess over ordinary and mundane people. Regardless, he felt it now. Remnants, at least, confirming he wasn’t dreaming about her. Again. 

The Vindicator pulled on a shirt and trousers, before setting out into the crisp night air. His lungs filled, diaphragm ready to shout and call out to Sylaess. He thought better of it, exhaling it as a grumbling sigh. Best not wake others who managed to keep asleep at this late hour. Instead, he did his searching the old fashioned way, wandering about, following the aura Sylaess exuded. She couldn’t be too far… right?

-------

It wasn't difficult to find her. She chose a place in the immediate sightlines of the door, or close to it. She didn’t hide--didn’t need to. A faint frown put a line between her brows as she watched him. “Argonas, really. I made a mistake about the time. This can wait. Go back to rest.” Calling quietly, summoning up her best normalcy. Common trick, that. Too common. But it smoothed over her like a well-worn mask. Felt the calmness stick over that unruly sense of dread. Caution. Arms folded, she looked very relaxed at least. A good slant to her shoulders, one leg kicked up on the wall behind her. 

She couldn’t hold her eyes to him, though. Had to glance aside as if her eyes had slid off of him. The frown remained. It was hard to sift through everything all the time. Shards of memory were just plain distracting at this point. The doubt niggled at the back of her mind. Such foolishness, and now one very poignantly grumpy Vindicator. You have no proof, Syl, nothing. Just a bad feeling. You think you know something, and your hope is an illusion. Trust is your weakness. Her lips pinched thinner a moment as she shoved the thoughts aside. 

---

Obvious as she was, standing plain in the open, seeing Sylaess’ face once more caught Argonas off guard. The eyes… he remembered them luminous, even if it was lichfire that ignited behind them. Elune’s gift had darkened them entirely, now. He still wasn’t used to it. Hopefully, she didn’t catch the slight jump as her image registered in his sleep-deprived mind. It didn’t last long, anyway, and rolled into his indignant grumbling.

“It is too late now.” he huffed, tone scolding. “I am awake, roused from my bed. You might as well tell me what this is all about.”

It likely came off more demanding and grumpy than he intended. He valued his sleep, of course… but valued their friendship more. Mistake about the time or not, she felt compelled to come tell him something here and now. To warn him of something.

“Why must I pack? Where am I going?” he asked - this time consciously dictating his tone be more amicable. 

-------

It didn’t really surprise her, nor did it honestly hurt. She’d looked in a mirror; she’d seen what was there. Frankly, it wasn’t really that great and given the hour and setting? Probably running high on the spooky level. All the more, she felt remorse for pulling him out of rest because she got spooked. It took a bit of a comedic role in her mind.

“I want you to go back to the Exodar.” Carefully, evenly said. There was more, but it died in her throat. It was far from unfriendly, but at this hour? These circumstances? Who would bet on what direction it was going to be taken in. “Not exactly something I was prepared to wake you for. The town isn’t on fire, after all.” A rueful tone played along the quiet words. She let her dark eyes slide away from his face again.

“...and I’m going to bet you won’t go back to the Exodar unless I volunteered to go through the portal first.”

It wasn’t exactly dread, but it was pretty unsettled in her tone.

---

“Hmph.” he harumphed. “Pray tell, why do you wish for me to return there?”

The Draenei crossed his arms across his broad chest - expectantly, and also because it was a little bit chilly - as he stared his Kaldorei friend down. His tail swayed quietly behind him, in even back-and-forth motions. Again, a grumpy gristle lined his words, inadvertently. Argonas considered himself a patient Vindicator. But antics such as this tested the extent of that patience. He had no time for games.

-------

She didn’t wither from his gaze but it came close. A soft breath of an exhale through her nose. She closed those black eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Because I’m far more spooked than I should be. I’m quite sure things are going down faster than I thought, and I’m watched. You’re in danger, and that’s my fault.” A pause. An ear flicked just barely. She rewrapped her arms about herself tightly. “I feel you have a better stand in the Exodar than you do here.” She loathed how the desperate tinge came in, even though her tone was even and careful. Perfectly laid out. But the words, the choice of words... Ah, damn. Syl lifted her chin a scant inch, settling on it. “As I said, Vindicator. It could’ve waited until morning, aside from my severe lapse in time-telling.”

---

Argonas considered Sylaess a moment; her words, her demeanor, her body language… He couldn’t deny feeling flattery in her concern for him, of all people in this city. And yet it upset him all the more. Offended him, to a degree. He wasn’t so helpless. A growl caught his next exhale, and rode it out beneath a sigh. His shoulders sagged slightly, as he shook his head.

“So too, then, do you.” he replied. “If you feel I am not safe here, you cannot be any better off.”

He expected she knew what he was getting at. Light, she notioned to it a sentence or two prior in the exchange. He had no intentions of leaving. Not without her.

“I will pack my things when you pack yours.” came his firm, succinct nod.

-------

She twisted a little where she stood, arms tightening just a fraction for a moment. And settled. “I’ve sent my things to Stormwind, where they will remain in storage. I’ve the luxury of not needing... much.” Oh, so calm of voice. Now buy into it, you dolt of a woman. 

“I made my offer. I’m not sure how I’ll react to walking into the Exodar, so bear with me. But I stand by what I said.” His eyes. Surely, his eyes can’t see so far. It was a flacid plea, weak and pathetic. She knew it, and let it fade. It was relieving that Argonas seemed to buy a little of the urgency. Even if it was out of some strange form piety. Pity? Too righteous for the steps she was taking--it would cripple him. 

Absently, she rubbed her arms as if warding off a chill. “There is no sharp distinction between the real and unreal...” A murmur left her lips, hardly audible. She was almost unaware of it. Blinked when she realised what she’d said.

---

He hated this. Hated seeing his friend twist and writhe at nothingness. Her fears were justified, of course. But Argonas found it all… needless. He knew the path. He knew what would set Sylaess right. He’d offered it to her, freely. But it wasn’t something to be forced. Least of all, on one like her. It wasn’t often that freedom of choice, autonomy, frustrated the Vindicator so much. But this did. And he could hold his tongue no longer.

“How long do you intend to endure this, my friend?” he asked, with a weary sigh. “How long will you skirt the edge of your sanity? Surely losing yourself to darkness scares you more than losing yourself to the Light, yes? When you have someone here who would see your best path taken - even walk that path with you!”

A huff, as his brow furrowed. Frustration with the situation mutated into frustration with himself. But it pained him so, to be standing beside Sylaess, ready to help… and have her opt to suffer alone. He shook his head, simply.

“You are no fool. You recognize what is happening. Addled as your mind is, you know the difference between Light and Shadow. The Light is not anything such dark power could replicate.” he came off in a lecturing tone, per usual. “You know this, Sylaess. And yet you are still lost in your own mind?”

-------

It was like stepping on a dry twig in the woods. The snap was clear in her head. “--Don’t you think I’ve looked at that angle? Don’t you believe I would if it was feasible? The risks a--” She caught herself in the middle of the sharp words, mouth open. Snapped it shut hastily. The frost-laden cloak got tugged about her shoulders again, sending a myriad of little frozen droplets to the ground around her feet. “This is my fault, and I will walk this line as long as I must. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to see this.” 

Syl couldn’t look him in the eye. She stared at his feet. “But we need to move.” Shame for the outburst washed over her, souring the fear at least. I don’t want you to see this. A soft sigh, and she went to tug at the braid, but it wasn’t there. It was pinned up on her head. Fidgeting again. Damn. 

---

“--No, I should not have to see this.” Argonas repeated, brow furrowing. “But I have chosen to. I choose to stand with you in all this, Sylaess. And now you must choose.”

A large, calloused hand gripped Sylaess’ shoulder, as the Draenei shook her - for emphasis? So she’d look him in the eye? Both? He stared her down, whether she saw it or not.

“There are risks on both sides. I know it to be so. For one as you, the Light can be as inhospitable as the shadows.” he nodded once in understanding. “But there is a distinct advantage to turning to the Light - me. I stand with you! I will not see undue harm come to you.”

His other hand came up, both his arms now pulling her in for a tight embrace. Brusque, but he seemed unapologetic about it. The gesture spoke loud enough on its own.

“Your choice is simple, Sylaess. Light or shadow?”

-------

She was rigid when he shook her shoulder. Those black eyes both utterly sharp and present and yet, they stared through him at the same time. Oddly hollow pits in her bone-white features. “It isn’t so simple Ar--”

Damn near bit her own tongue when he drew her into the hug. Not what she expected. It blew her line of thought right out of the water. For a fleeting moment, she was stuck between a laugh and tears, but neither manifested thankfully. Caught awkwardly in his arms like a squashed moth. But it was... nice. Comforting, almost fatherly in a way. Tempting.

The elf gave it a few moments before trying to step back. The void-touch must feel awful for him; the presence of Light seemed to skitter along her skin. She had to admit the surprise she felt was genuine. Staring at the Vindicator. That he could send such an immediate sense of heart-warming yet unjustified care at her kind of felt like the nicest slap in the face yet. Not that she could take him up on such a thing. How he could care so much for her was beyond her at this point. Holding to a fragment of the past? Perhaps. But her gut told her that he was just too good. He wasn’t stupid. Just willing to risk a lot.

“Argonas, I trust you.” The words were just a breath. They both knew she wouldn’t be standing in front of him otherwise. “But you don’t--I--” She struggled with the words and stiffened up again. It all almost came burbling up and out like some strange poison. Steeled herself. 

“I am between Light and Shadow. Always. These ...problems. The manifestation. Been here since I took my first unholy steps. Acherus is a joke. We weren’t meant to last more than a few years, we were temporary soldiers. Most of us are susceptible to things like this. Luck.” Her face twisted, a grimace. “If you believe in luck.” 

An uneasy breath left her. It wasn’t the pain that so held her in terror, it was the hint of knowledge of  what lay beyond. Beyond death.

“Let’s... take it one step at a time. Exodar.”

---

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Not entirely. To walk the line between Light and Shadow… and willingly, too? She said it as if she had no choice, but Argonas knew better. --At least… he thought he did… perhaps she was right. Were the undead really meant to last this long? To exist as they were? They were unnatural, either way, but he never stopped to consider what that all meant. And even considering it… he still wasn’t sure. For the first time in a long time, Argonas began to realize it; Sylaess was paradoxical. Something he may never understand.

But he wouldn’t stop trying.

“... One step at a time.” he repeated with a nod as he finally released her. “I will gather my belongings, and be ready by sunrise.”

-------

She nodded, the bleakness of it sticking to her like a cobweb. Saw the doubt in his face. Was she right to do this? To force him to see this side of undeath? It wasn’t anything groundbreaking or new, but that was her perspective. Her reality. Not his. It left her feeling queasy, soiled. Like she needed to wipe her hands on her shirt. Knowing she had considered sacrificing Argonas like a lamb, one night. It was all so wrong.

They are coming for you.

Of course she didn’t do either, just nodded dumbly. Shoving the whispers to the back of her mind. His presence rooted her, somehow. “I’ll... Be here. Or near here.” The worry gnawed at her, but that feeling of eyes? Worse. All things considered, she’d had her warnings. Now it was time to tie up the loose ends. Surely, she wanted in her heart to return to the good graces, the Light or her own people, but the logic of it? No. The logic was sound. Undeath riddled every little detail of her being. As much as she could want to attain some level of redemption, it wasn’t going to happen. Her soul was tied sharply into the black powers that had so rudely ripped her from any semblance of rest.

Knew it as surely as the blades on her back. 

He wasn’t going to stand in danger because of her presence if she could help it. No; it would be best to keep him far. Safe. A strange sort of beacon in her graceless dark voyage. Syl had done enough damage to warrant the guilt she bore. There was no innocence in her, despite how Argonas wished to treat her. This was done by choice, mostly.

All that you know will fade. There was truth in it, but perhaps it was preying on her amnesia. It scared her less and less, the fact that she already couldn’t remember anything significant. Maybe it was a mercy she couldn’t name any of the souls she saw in the shadowlands. The prize, though, she could hold to for a little.

---

[miernethepersevering]

Zealotry

(( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas​ / @avehi-the-adamant​ following the story ‘Justified’. Tagging @nedemus​ and @sinafay1​ /  @codegemini​ for character mention ))

~*~*~

Argonas’ angered pacing stopped at a nearby fountain. Mierne wasn’t far behind him, having followed him from the cemetery. She made no effort to conceal her presence, though her hoof steps could barely be heard compared to his. Sparks of Light crackle across the Vindicator’s armor as he seethed. She paid them no mind as she moved to his side. There was silence as she pondered what to say. Surely, there were none that felt proper to soothe her friend's anger. Instead, she simply rested a hand on his plated arm.

...Not for long, however. He pulled away immediately with a scowl,

“ I need not your pity, nor your consolation, Mierne." he snapped.

“I offer neither. Merely a listening ear.”

“Hmph! What more is there to say? The Light's justice has failed today!”

“It did not work out the way you wished, but that does not mean it failed.”

“He is letting her GO, Mierne! He is letting Avehi continue defiling the dead, with no consequences!”

She merely shook her head, ever patient, “He is investigating."

"—What more is there to investigate?! She admitted to it!" He was shouting now as more enraged Light crackled off his body. Truly, an intimidating sight.

Though Mierne refused to allow it to affect her so. “If there is really something wrong with the afterlife, would you not want to know? If Sinafay is suffering—“

“—Enough! Sinafay is -not- suffering!

“But what if she -is-, Argonas?!” she persisted, “Would you not want to save her from that fate?!”

The Vindicator shook his head, sweeping his arm in front of him in a large negative gesture, "She died a most noble death! The Light would not allow her to enter into this 'Maw', or whatever! She is one with the Light, now!" he stated, firmly. "Avehi is lying!"

"And if you're wrong?"

"The Light would not fail Sinafay like that. It delivered me from death. It would not see her suffer in the same stroke! You trust Avehi far too much.”

“Perhaps. But you are blinded by your hatred for her. If she is lying, Khanaros will find out, and then your justice can be delivered. You must exercise patience!”

Argonas shook his head, and turned back towards the fountain, "Khanaros... hmph. He has changed.He used to carry such a definitive sense of justice. A decisive and sure demeanor. Seeing him back there, I felt I was watching a completely different person than my old mentor!”

Mierne frowned, "He hasn't changed at all. I have known him since before you were born. Khanaros has always been level headed and just! You say this because he did not make a decision you agreed with! This is a complicated issue and it must be treated as such.”

Argonas 's tail twitched. Her words seemed to strike something in him. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing at the Shaman. "No... instead, he made a decision -you- agree with. You have long been an advocate for Avehi, have you not?”

“Which is why I wasn't the one passing judgment. I was there to see that Avehi was given the proper chance to explain herself. That was my only request to Khanaros.”

“Truly? Is that -all- you were there for? You hold more sway over the High Vindicator than anyone else! Even if you did not ask directly, he knows well how close you and Avehi are. What she -means- to you! You have interfered with proper justice, Mierne! Intentionally or not... the High Vindicator must have been soft on Avehi because of -you-!” He huffed, "It is the only explanation!"

“Don't be ridiculous! Khanaros had no intentions to even speak to Avehi until Nedemus brought up the issue with the afterlife!”

“I know well he played his part in these... manipulations, as well. But this hearing would not have even happened if it were not for you and your relationship with him!”

“If you think that Khanaros put his feelings for me ahead of his duties as High Vindicator,  then you are a fool!”

“Hah! -I- am a fool? I believe if you seriously think Avehi's made-up story about the afterlife being ‘broken’ is true, then it is YOU who are the fool, here!”

“I know Avehi well enough to know that she is -not- a liar. If you had any ounce of sense left in you, you would see that.”

“You knew her in life, perhaps! Undeath changes people! Twists and perverts them into monsters! I have seen it! And now that Avehi has shown herself to be one, your bias towards her clouds your judgment. And the High Vindicator's judgment by virtue of your relationship with him!"

“Certain things have changed, yes. But she is still the Avehi I knew on Draenor. Her drive to do what is right and her honesty have persevered even in death!”

“Bah! Something else entirely drives her, now. She has proven that by raising and defiling so many with her necrotic magics! Her fabricated lies about the afterlife and the Maw are just her way of justifying her abhorrent actions! And they have worked perfectly on you and Khanaros!”

Mierne let out an exasperated sigh, clearly frustrated at the Vindicator’s refusal to listen to reason.

"No... no, this is not justice,” he huffed, “This is not the Light's will! If Khanaros will not see to righteous vindication for Zaalesh and the others... I will."

Mierne stepped forward, immediately grabbing his arm again, "You will leave Avehi be until the High Vindicator finishes his investigation!"

Argonas looked down at the Shaman’s hand, before tugging his arm away once more. He scowled.

"I take no orders from -you-, Mierne! You cannot manipulate me like you do Khanaros! I will be watching Avehi closely. If she sets even half a hoof out of line, defiles any more fallen, or even breathes my wife's name again... I will do what I should have done in Northrend, and end her miserable existence! The High Vindicator has until such time to finish his so-called ‘investigation’. Otherwise, he will not need to!”

Mierne 's tail flickered in clear agitation, "Argonas, this is my final warning. Do -not- allow yourself to be led by your grief and anger."

"What else do I have?!” He snarled, “I have lost -everything- now, Mierne! My wife, my child, and now my mentor! Grief and anger are all I have left!"

“No, it is not! You cannot allow yourself to be lost to this! You are -more- than this!”

He shook his head stubbornly once more, turning from both Mierne and the fountain.

"All I am is an instrument for the Light's justice. And I -will- see justice met! Mark my words, Mierne... Avehi will atone for what she has done."

“What you are doing is -not- justice! It is zealotry!”

“No, it is vindication. And I am a Vindicator.”

As Argonas began to depart in a huff, Mierne took a step forward, but resigned to saying anything more, allowing him to leave. She had no parting words for him, only a frustrated sigh.

~*~*~

[grakkar-gorefang]

The Challenge

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini​. Follows her story here. ))

Step by step, large-yet-nimble footsteps ascended the stairway. Grakkar traveled light, and quick, making his way towards the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. He’d only heard of it, but everyone told him it was a beautiful and serene place. A place for relaxation. For lovers to connect on a deeper level. A place he had intended to bring Sinafay… All this only upset him more, when he found out where she was. She’d come here - not alone, but with Argonas. The father of the child she carried… and the one who stole her away from him.

Tracking them wasn’t easy, admittedly - especially across continents. But the orc had sniffed out more elusive prey than a pair of Draenei Vindicators many times before. It saddened him to leave Kronk behind on such and adventure; he wanted to take him, too, to the wondrous Pandaria of which he’d heard so many times. But the big lug would only slow him down, and time was of the essence. Leaving him in Aelissah’s care, as he had many times before, made sense. She didn’t have a connection with the beast, but he trusted her to take good care of him in his absence. 

The stairs led to a path. The path led to a river. And the river led into a tunnel. It seemed to be the only way to get to Kun-Lai from here. And from Kun-Lai, he could get to the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. To Sinafay.

The orc followed the river as it ran deeper into the cavern. His eyes twinkled in the low light - he had no issues seeing, even in darkness. Navigating the cavern would be a breeze--

He ducked down behind a rock, hearing steps from up ahead. Slowly and silently, he pulled the axe from his back. Breathing controlled and quiet, yet his heart raced. He wouldn’t say aloud, but a fear came over him - he knew not exactly what dangers lurked in Pandaria. And in dark places like this, the most dangerous of creatures tended to dwell… Fear, yes. Fear and excitement. He peered around the rock subtly, to try and catch a glimpse of what approached…

Hoofsteps echoed through the tunnel. Sinafay’s elven guide had left her at the entrance with a few confusing directions, before using some form of arcane teleportation device. It seemed the rogue had other business to attend to...

Unfortunately, Sinafay didn’t have the best sense of direction. As far as she could tell, the path hadn’t split yet. Her glowing golden gaze looked around the cave warily as she made her way along the path. She didn’t know the area; didn’t know what dangers lurked. 

She’d left the Vale with only the clothes on her back; a lovely white maternity shirt and purple gold trimmed pants. She’d left her armor and weapon behind. It would have made Argonas question where she was going, and she couldn’t have him following her to Grakkar. Despite this, she didn’t show fear, determined to talk her Orc lover out of this crazy mak’gora idea.

“--Sina!”

Grakkar gasped, rising from behind his cover immediately. He’d recognize that divine form anywhere! … even if it was a little more bloated than last he laid eyes on it. Nonetheless, her shimmering Light-rune tattoos along her arms, and those matching illuminated eyes… the silhouette of her horns and hair… and as she grew close enough, he recognized her divine face! Oh, it had been too long! He was surprised he didn’t recognize her by the cadence of her steps, to be honest - but pregnancy altered her gait as well.

“Sina! I was coming to find you!” he declared, as he approached

Conveniently leaving out the other reason he’d come this far.

Sinafay’s reaction was anything but planned. She’d been set on getting straight to the subject, but the sight of him changed all that. The old Orc hadn’t changed at all. Grey mohawk hair tied back, leathered tattooed and scarred skin, muscular frame showed off by what little armor he wore beneath that tabard…

She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him tightly, choking back a sob.

“Grakkar!” Happy tears ran down her cheeks as she embraced him, “Light! I… I missed you so much!”

The subject of the mak’gora could wait. She’d intercepted him from getting to Argonas and that was all that mattered for the moment. Her anger and sadness melted away in his arms.

She pulled back only to gaze lovingly into his eyes, bringing a gentle hand to rest against his cheek.

“How are you?”

“Hmph! Foolish!” he grumbled in response, lips curled downwards at the corners. “So foolish to run from this. From you!”

Grakkar pulled Sinafay in for another intimate hug. He had wasted so much time thanks to his brash overreaction. Moments he’d never get back. It was all he could do to take them as he could, in interactions like this. He buried his face in her neck, humming contently at being back in her arms once more. Her scent filled him with bliss. He took his fill of it before releasing the second embrace, and looking upon her once again - that regret and sorrow still evident in his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love. I was… angry. Upset!” he explained. “You had it right; I told you I would never leave you… and I don’t intend to ever again. I…”

He brought a hand up to cup the Vindicator’s face, only now managing to smile as his eyes got lost in hers.

“I love you so much.”

“Oh, Grakkar! I love you too!”

She sealed the words with a kiss, rekindling that fire they’d shared over their many years together. Her heart soared, so happy to hear the words he spoke. She could see the regret in his eyes. His words were sincere. How many times had she dreamed of him returning to her like this, admitting to the mistake he made in his upset and shocked state. 

A swift kick from the baby in her belly served as a proper reminder at what she was dealing with. Argonas would most certainly come looking for her once he’d realized she’d run off. She had to get Grakkar away from here. She reluctantly broke the kiss, taking Grakkar’s hand in hers and attempting to lead him back the way they came.

“Come, My Love. Let us leave this place.”

Grakkar didn’t budge, despite being tugged at. His smiling face turned to a frown once more - this time, steely and determined.

“... No.” he grunted. “Not yet.”

His eyes turned forward in the tunnel, towards Kun-Lai. Finding Sinafay here was fortunate. But he knew she didn’t come alone. He knew Argonas was around here somewhere, too. Exhaling a growl of a sigh, he looked to Sinafay once more. 

“I came here for another reason, Sina.” he stated, plainly. “To challenge the father of that child you carry. To challenge Argonas to mak’gora.”

Sinafay’s hands immediately reached for his arm, grabbing and holding on tightly.

“You don’t need to do that,” she frowned, now that the subject could no longer be avoided, “You have nothing to prove. To me. To anyone! I am your mate, now and forever. This baby will not change that. A mak’gora won’t solve anything!”

“--Of course it will!” he grunted back. “A fight to the death is the only way!”

He wasn’t surprised; as much as Sinafay had done for the orcish people, there were aspects of the culture he felt she didn’t fully understand. The mak’gora was one of them. The Draenei had nothing with which it could compare… no duels of honor, no fighting to the death. Some called such practices barbaric, but they failed to realize the significance of the time-honored ceremony. Once again, his hand reached up to cup Sinafay’s face. His eyes met hers, stern and finite.

“You didn’t want this child with him, right? You trusted him to be honorable… and he broke that trust with his carelessness! He has to answer for that.” he declared. “You don’t love him, right? If you don’t love him… you shouldn’t be opposed to me killing him, so we can be together - free entirely from his influence.”

Grakkar searched Sinafay’s face, lips pressed thin.

“The challenge is due.”

Sinafay huffed, bringing a hand up to slap him across the face. 

“Like Fel it is!” She cried, “I do not love him, but he is one of the VERY few friends that I have on this world!”

Hands balled into fists as her anger swelled. In truth, she understood well the significance of the mak’gora in Orcish culture. But she couldn’t understand why it was required in this situation. Argonas didn’t even love her! It was an unnecessary bloodshed!

“This child was my mistake! Not his! I go with you willingly, but you leave him be!”

The slap earned a snarl from Grakkar. He took hold of Sinafay’s arms, holding tight to keep her from lashing out at him again. Clearly, she was upset. He expected that she might be, given the circumstances - but that didn’t make the slap any more surprising in the moment! 

“Listen to me! I know he’s your friend; clearly! But what makes you think he won’t come after you? After the child? Especially if you keep him as a friend?” he pressed, frowning deeply. “There’s only one way to be sure he--”

“UNHAND HER!”

A deep, commanding voice echoed through the tunnel. The heavy hoofsteps of another Draenei coming down from Kun-Lai resonated in steady marching cadence. It was an imposing figure; Grakkar knew Argonas was a Vindicator, like Sinafay… but he didn’t quite expect him to be so large. He released Sinafay, and interposed between the two of them.

“You must be Argonas.” he snarled, speaking in Draenic. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Argonas narrowed his gaze - who was this Orc? How did he know his name? He looked to Sinafay, as if for an explanation; confused further as she hadn’t turned to flee from the assailant, or bash him over the head when he turned his back to her. 

“... What is this?” he growled. “Sina?”

She opened her mouth to say something… anything! But nothing came to mind. Her eyes were wide, panic evident as she looked from Argonas to Grakkar and back. She hadn’t expected Argonas to discover her disappearance so soon!

While Grakkar was fully aware of Argonas and Sinafay’s relationship, it wasn’t the case the other way around. Sinafay had told Argonas nothing of her Orc lover, out of fear of losing his friendship.

“Argo! You have to leave, now! Please!” was all she could utter. 

Her eyes pleaded to him, an obvious fear behind her golden gaze. She reached forward, grabbing hold of the Orc’s arm tightly, her desperate tone still evident as she switched to Orcish.

“Grakkar! Don’t!”

Something wasn’t right. Argonas didn’t know what it was… but this Orc was clearly exerting some kind of sway over Sinafay. A mind control spell? Then why would she oppose him? Blackmail, perhaps? What could he possibly have that would influence her so? His brow furrowed all the deeper at the wave of questions pouring through his mind.

Grakkar, inversely, felt no confusion at all. Only determination. He shrugged Sinafay off, seemingly deaf to her pleas for him to back off, and stepped forward. The initial intimidation began to wane, as his adrenaline increased. A true challenge! A towering Draenei to oppose, to fight and kill - all for Sinafay! This was the stuff of Orcish legends!

“Vindicator Argonas!” he called him out. “I challenge you to mak’gora! A duel to the death! Muster what honor you have to meet this challenge, or flee with your tail between your legs like a cowardly, sniveling pup!”

Argonas scoffed! He knew of the Orcish tradition of mak’gora. An uncivilized and brutish practice, from all he’d heard about it. He didn’t know why this Orc was challenging him to such a thing. He was definitely not an Orc! He glanced once more to Sinafay, hoping for any manner of clarification… but all he could read was that odd panic in her expression. She shook her head, wanted him to run… to defer to this Orc for whatever reason. Grakkar didn’t look like much to Argonas. Strong, sure. But aged. Then again, few Orcs reached such a stage of life without good reason. 

Did she really think this Orc was a threat to him?

He shook his head - that didn’t matter. Clearly she was in duress of some kind. Whatever it was this Orc was lording over her, he couldn’t abide it a moment longer! 

“Hmph! You chose your opponent poorly this day, you filthy Orc!” he shouted back. “Come forth and be judged by the Light!”

Sinafay closed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped; defeated. She could see she couldn’t stop this now. Without another word from anyone - not counting battle cries and aggressive shouts - Grakkar and Argonas charged at one another! 

Argonas’ hoofsteps echoed loudly and sharply as they struck the stone beneath them, each leaving behind a crescent of burning Light in their wake. The Light itself propelled him forth towards his foe! Grakkar didn’t slow a bit - his steps much softer than Argonas’, but no less nimble! He dipped his shoulder low to take the Vindicator down on impact! Instead, the Draenei turned at the last second to meet the Orc’s collision. The two slammed together, both grunting. Grakkar was much more solid than Argonas had expected… but not by much! He reached out to grab the Orc’s shoulder, reeling back his fist to deliver a punch!

CRACK!

The blow landed unexpectedly, square to Grakkar’s face. He stumbled back… as far as he could still being held by the shoulder. Argonas didn’t relent, either - immediately he reeled his arm back to throw another punch. Grakkar snapped back to quickly enough to bring his own arms up across one another to meet the would-be blow before his face took any more punishment. It was like being smashed in the face with a rock - nothing he was in any hurry to feel again! As he blocked the second punch, his hands turned quickly to grip the Vindicator’s arm. He tugged it firmly, bringing his knee up to slam into Argonas’ gut as a retaliation! He would’ve landed it too, if Draenei didn’t have tails! He cursed under his breath - he should’ve expected it, given all his time ‘familiarizing’ himself with Sinafay’s Draenic anatomy… Argonas’ tail swung in between Grakkar’s knee and his abdomen, slowing and buffering the blow to little more than a nudge. The Draenei scoffed, ripping his arm from Grakkar’s grip and dropping an elbow to smash the Orc a second time. 

“--Oof!” Grakkar yelped, staggering back again.

The stagger went further than planned, as Argonas not only released his grip, but shoved the Orc away from him. He snarled.

“Pathetic!” he boasted! “You seem to know me, Orc! Not well enough to realize you are grossly outmatched! Too bad, for you!”

Grakkar stabilized, keeping upright despite the beating he’d taken. He wiped the blood from his lips and nose using his forearm, furious gaze keeping affixed to Argonas. He growled, baring his teeth like a rabid wolf.

“I know you well enough, alright.” he spit a glob of blood from his mouth. “A warrior, dedicated to protecting his people. Admirable… admirable enough to catch the interest and affections of my beloved Sinafay.”

“Grakkar! ENOUGH!” Sinafay screamed from the sidelines, hands balled into fists.

Argonas’ prideful grin vanished in an instant - did he say ‘beloved’? His luminous eyes shot wide, in more confusion… and horror. He looked to Sinafay again, praying silently this was some manner of joke, or that perhaps he’d misheard. This encounter grew more and more strange by the second.

“And yet you reward her friendship with betrayal!” Grakkar continued, snarling. “She sought comfort with you. And you repaid her with an unwanted burden! Your baby!”

He pointed back - vaguely - at where Sinafay stood, emphasizing his point as he berated Argonas. He was getting worked up further - adrenaline pumping through his veins quickly and aggressively. The taste of blood in his mouth fueled it further… and calling Argonas out on taking more than he was offered drove it to a raging peak. He let loose a roar that shook the cavern, before charging for Argonas once more!

Argonas scoffed - he readied himself once more for the impact of Grakkar slamming into him as before. At least, what minor impact it was. Stronger than expected, certainly. But Argonas was unmoved before… and expected he’d be unmoved again. But such pride comes before the fall; As Argonas braced himself for the collision, Grakkar threw his shoulder back, and his legs forward. He shifted into a slide, iron-trimmed boots clashing into Argonas’ forward shin and knee joint with a sickening sound! Argonas toppled forward, still poised to resist ahead on impact. He howled in pain; there was no way that cracking sound wasn’t his bone breaking from the force of the blow!

Grakkar kept set on the Vindicator, rolling over and hopping up nimbly while Argonas writhed. He leapt up, and dropped in on his prey, driving an elbow into the Draenei’s back. He straddled his target, gripping his head to slam his face into the stone ground. Once. Twice. Three times, each leaving Argonas’ face more bloodied than the last. Argonas reached back to try and take hold of the Orc and throw him off - to no avail. He took a fourth and fifth face slam as Grakkar continued his assault!

Sinafay began to pace as she watched the fight intensely. She wanted to interfere, wanted to stop this senseless battle. But the two warriors were locked in, and she knew she wouldn’t be forgiven if she were to interfere. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. Despite being the one they were fighting over, she’d never felt more invisible!

Finally, Argonas brought his arms beneath him, and thrusted upwards. He half-spun mid-air to bring himself over Grakkar, who held tightly to the Draenei - a poor choice. Grakkar was stunned, sandwiched between Argonas’ muscular back and the cold unforgiving ground. He held firm, throwing an arm around the Vindicator’s front. His forearm tucked up against Argonas’ throat. He tugged hard, gripping his wrist with his free hand to pull even harder in an attempt to choke out his opponent! 

Argonas’ luminous eyes began to roll back, light within them dimming as the Orc strained beneath him. He could feel the oxygen deprivation causing his mind to slow. Vision blurred, heart rate skyrocketing. He tugged at the Orc’s arm to try and pry it free from his neck, to no avail. His tail writhed, legs flailing - the latter was met with excruciating pain as he made the break in his joint worse with every kick. That sharp pain was so stark and sobering, it kept him from going out completely, at least. Much to Grakkar’s dismay. He should’ve passed out by now! It wasn’t easy to strain keeping the stranglehold while resisting being crushed beneath the flailing Draenei. Ancestors, he was dense! If he didn’t know any better, Grakkar would think he was made of stone!

“STOP!”

This looked like the end! Sinafay took a few running steps in-- but then stopped as Argonas threw his head forward - then back - slamming the back of his head into Grakkar’s face! The Orc’s grip loosened, as Argonas flung himself over and off of him. The Vindicator gasped, drawing in air after what felt like hours. Grakkar held his face, stemming the blood which now poured out of his nose. He sat up quickly to keep from drowning in his own nosebleed. It resulted in a brief pause in the fighting, while the two recuperated. But the pause didn’t last long. 

Grakkar rose to go after Argonas once more - opening by throwing a handful of loose rocks in the Vindicator’s eyes! Blinded for the moment, Argonas could do little to resist as Grakkar gripped his crest and slammed his knee into the Draenei’s face. A second landed as well, before Argonas reached forth to take hold of the Orc’s leg to intercept the third attempt. Still unable to see, however, it was all he could to do throw the Orc off of him. Grakkar stumbled back, but kept his footing. Argonas took the moment to stand - as well as he could, leg damaged as it was. He wrapped his tail tightly about his knee joint to keep pressure on the fracture, enabling him to stand for the moment. He glared at Grakkar… runic scars on his body illuminating.

“--Hmph!” Grakkar scoffed! “Further proof of your lack of honor! You call on your Light powers to help you win this mak’gora? Pathetic!”

“I could not care less for your barbaric customs, Orc!” Argonas shot back - the runes on his body fading nonetheless. “But I need not waste the Naaru’s gift in defeating you!”

The Orc let out another roar, before rushing at Argonas again. He threw a punch as soon as he came close enough, slamming his fist into the Draenei’s chest. Argonas retaliated with a hook of his own, smashing into Grakkar’s side. They traded blows, one after the other in an impromptu boxing match. It was a series of body blows, with an occasional swing at the face. Most of them were dodged or blocked, once the two combatants began to read one another’s moves better. Finally, Argonas clipped Grakkar’s jaw, sending him staggering back once more. The Draenei pressed, diving into the Orc to tackle him to the ground… and pin him.

The Orc continued swinging, throwing closed fists into Argonas’ sides to try and pummel the Draenei off from atop him. He hit a few against the Draenei’s injured leg, making Argonas howl in agony every time. But enough was enough. The Vindicator would end this now. One hand gripped the Orc’s throat tightly, the other clutching the side of Grakkar’s head. He slammed Grakkar’s head back, snarling.

“Go meet your ancestors, Orc filth! And tell them who sent you!”

Argonas’ hands clenched tighter - crushing Grakkar’s throat closed, as a thumb gouged into his eye. Grakkar couldn’t even scream with his windpipe closed off, despite the agonizing pain shooting through his body! He clawed at Argonas, fingernails scraping lightly - harmlessly - along Argonas’ arms and sides. Heels shuffled against the cold ground as he kicked helplessly. 

“--S-S-Sina…” he managed to wheeze, with what should’ve been his final breath.

“NO!”

A blinding flash of Light shot out and struck Argonas in the shoulder, knocking him clear off of Grakkar. Sinafay ran in as Grakkar coughed, wheezing as he drew air back into his lungs. She placed herself between the two, wrapping her arms protectively around the Orc. Light still danced around her form, further stimulated by her tempestuous emotions. 

“He saved my life,” she finally explained, “He rescued me from Draenor!”

She turned her head to look at Argonas, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

“The fight is over… you’ve won,” she managed, “But I won’t let you kill him.”

Argonas stared in awe - shocked, and further confounded by everything that had happened. He had won… he thought. The fight should’ve ended with the satisfying crunch of another Orc’s skull in his hands… and instead it ended with Sinafay - his friend, his confidant - cradling the filthy creature like a child!

His mind raced, questions upon questions flooding his thoughts - too many to speak at once. So many, the pain in his leg was forgotten for the moment. Just as well; he made no effort to stand. Instead, he simply stared. Hurt, confused, angry. The pieces slowly began to fall into place, once by one, as this bizarre and frustrating exchange played out again in his mind’s eye. “He saved my life…” “my beloved Sinafay…” It was too terrible to believe, yet nothing spoke contrary to it.

“N-No…” Grakkar wheezed, finally catching his breath. 

His eye was bruised, swollen shut. His neck, too, had already started to swell. Coughing was hoarse and violent, but he managed to sit up. His arm wrapped around Sinafay, holding her for support. He shook his head, frowning deeply.

“He… has to finish it.” he whispered. “The mak’gora… does not end until one of us is dead.”

“To the Nether with your backwards customs!” Argonas shouted, seething in anger - it was easier to lash out at the Orc than Sinafay for now, it seemed. “Be grateful she stopped me when she did, lest I would have uglied you up beyond what even another Orc would recognize!”

He spit derisively, a globule of blue blood. Disgusted. Disgusted with this Orc, this situation… and Sinafay, too. He wore it on his face, visible well enough even beneath the bruising and discoloration. With a strained grunt, he brought his legs back underneath him, hurriedly standing. A groan as pressure set on his busted leg. Wrapping his tail around the joint as before staved off some of it, bracing it to operate semi-functionally. But even that hurt less than this devastating revelation.

“Tell me I am mistaken, Sinafay.” he huffed, allotting a final chance - a hope - he was reading this all entirely wrong. “Tell me this is not your lover. Your Orcish lover!”

She was silent for a moment. Only the words were missing, really; the way she looked at Grakkar, the way her hand cupped the side of his bruised and bloodied face, the way her tail curved in around him. There was nothing platonic about it.

Sinafay had feared this moment. Dreaded it, even. She looked at Argonas, his disgust conveying exactly the reaction she’d expected. In a way, she felt justified, knowing he would have never understood, even if she had told him from the beginning. But in another, she was disappointed and hurt. Part of her had hoped… foolishly, that he’d be able to accept the fact that things happened differently in her timeline.

“We’ve been mates for years on Draenor,” she admitted, “And we still are.”

Despite Argonas’ obvious disgust and anger at her, she spoke the words clearly, unapologetic. He’d already figured it out. There was nothing left to hide. She met his gaze steadily.

“I love him.”

It wasn’t nearly as shocking for him to hear as Argonas expected. Then again, he knew it was true. He had expected those words to pour forth from her mouth, now that he’d come to learn it all for himself. He glanced between her and the Orc - the disgusting creature that had somehow earned her love - with a gnarled, furrowed brow. 

“... So be it.”

There was little else to say. Little else to do. Carefully he turned, and began to pace away. He winced audibly with every step of his broken leg, clearly favoring it as he left the two behind him. He didn’t bother looking back.

Grakkar coughed again, violent and coarse, as he clutched Sinafay. He, too, frowned, as he peered at Argonas through his remaining good eye. He shook his head.

“Th-The… mak’gora…” he wheezed.

It was far too late for that, now. He collapsed back in resignation, turning his eye to Sinafay.

“I’m… sorry.”

“Idiot.”

Sinafay sighed, turning her full attention to Grakkar now that Argonas has left. There had been no point in calling to him. She brought a hand through his hair, the Light energy that surrounded her dying down considerably as she calmed down.

“It is what it is,” she said, “But you get to let me heal you for that one.”

Despite his hatred towards the Light, he was in terrible shape. She kept one arm around him as the other began to glow. She started over his throat, to ease the worst of the damage Argonas’ hand had caused, then helped the swelling around his eye. 

“I know I should not have interrupted,” she admitted as she began scanning his body for further damage, “But I refuse to live in a world that you are not part of. You are not allowed to die. Not like this.”

Grakkar’s frown softened. Due in part to the swelling reducing as the Light Sinafay channeled through him soothed his bruises. But also at her words; he knew the sentiment well. He’d felt it before, when he was first whisked away to Azeroth, leaving her behind. Living here meant nothing without her at his side. His hand reached up atop hers, despite how it glowed with the Light. He didn’t care. That didn’t matter now. Only she did.

“You broke tradition to save me before.” he smiled, lightly. “I can break it now, to stay with you.”

“I do not need tradition. All I need is you.”

She rested her crest gently against his forehead, closing her eyes as her hand hovered over his rib cage. There were a number of broken ribs due to the crushing treatment he’d received. Her Light mending couldn’t heal him completely, but it served well to accelerate the progress and dull the worst of the pain. Overall, she expected Grakkar would recover well enough. Her channeling finally ceased, and she allowed herself to relax. 

Sinafay was sad about Argonas. She had never meant for him to be hurt, and she feared losing his friendship completely over this. Telling him earlier would have been preferable, but with the faction war only now coming to an end, exposing her relationship with Grakkar was a risk she hadn’t been able to take. 

She looked over her shoulder, where the Vindicator had limped off, wishing she’d had a chance to mend his wounds as well. The baby stirred in her belly, a reminder that she still carried his child. She’d have to go check on him later, once he’d had a bit of time to process and brood. Hopefully, he’d be receptive, despite all this.

For now, though, Sinafay turned her full attention to Grakkar.

“The Vale is beautiful. I cannot think of a better place for you to recover. Once you are well, we will begin looking for a place to live together, yes?”

Despite the dramatic and upsetting altercation, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of excitement. After all the years of waiting and suffering, they could finally openly be together.

She tilted her head and pressed her lips to his.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he whispered, smiling. “And I love you too.”

It wasn’t the start he’d envisioned for their vacation to Pandaria together… but he definitely needed some rest and relaxation now.

[kidcatgeminiart]

June Prompt - Argonas and Sinafay

Flower: Rose

The red rose is symbolic for passion, true love, romance, and desire. It represents true respect and appreciation toward one another.

~*~*~

My #1 OTP. A pairing I never expected to be a thing, considering how completely different they were. A shaky friendship made strong through the trials and tribulations of Warlords of Draenor. A traditional Vindicator and rebellious Elementalist come together, appreciating one another's differences, leaning on each other for strength, and completing each other in every way. Argonas ( @argonas ) and Sinafay ( @codegemini )'s is a love that even death itself couldn't separate!

~*~*~

Drawn, inked and colored with CSP and Wacom Cintiq tablet <3

Argonas belongs to @thefugitivemango . You can check out and support his awesome writing here.

~*~*~

Like what I do? Support me on:

Ko-fi | Patreon | Twitter

[thefugitivemango]

Tower Ascendance - Pt IV

[[ Co-written with @sylaess​ / @sylaesschasewind​ & @kidcatgemini  /@codegemini​ ]]

|| PART I || PART II || PART III ||

~*~

Sinafay was quick to act. Even without weapons, she rushed at the winged figure, but was immediately knocked back by one of its powerful wings. She hit the wall and landed next to a crushed animated armor… well, not animated any longer, most likely cut down by Argonas on his way in. Her hand reached out and took hold of the depleted armor’s weapon, a large axe. 

Convenient.

She grinned. 

The Vindicator took hold of the Mawsworn’s foot as it was pressed to his bare chest. He strained, resisting being stomped further into the ground. Thankfully, he was sturdier than the fallen Kyrian had anticipated. In a quick, fluid motion, he twisted the foot! 

*CRRKKK*

The Mawsworn let out an echoed squeal of pain, rivaled in volume only by the sickening cracking and snapping of its ankle bones and tendons! Immediately, it flapped its wings to get airborne once more, and take the weight of its now-broken foot!

Argonas scrambled to his hooves shortly after, and reclaimed his shield and mace. The Light coursed through him, shining brightly in the otherwise dim place. A show of force… and also a distraction, he hoped.

“Strike fast when you can, then fall back!” he instructed his companions. “I will keep its focus!”

With that, he hurled a Light-borne hammer upward at the tainted Ascendant-- exploding on the impact and knocking the winged abettor back slightly further as sparks of Light showered about it. He definitely had its attention now!

Sylaess had to squint at the shower of Light. Her twin blades were in her hands instinctively. Feet were already moving. For one reason or another, this felt far more comfortable to her than the dread and wonder. Maybe it was a familiar action or the affirmation of danger. Or literally just her swords in her hands and no need to keep puzzling out this wretched tower. The Mawsworn cursed in her shriek of surprise and agony, those wings sweeping in almost defensively as she hurled herself backwards. Or was hurled on the hammer express. Hard to say. The elf caught a glance of that shadow magic forming around the Darksworn’s hands. Heard the quiet words start forming. Ah, shit. “Argonas, ‘ware!”

It was a lot like twisting her skin tightly across her skull, agitating that permanent migraine she’d been nursing this whole time into a dull roar. One leap--felt her lips peel back over her teeth in a rictus snarl as she cast her own spell. Runes barely glimmered. But it went off. The death grip. Yanking her attention with tainted arcane. Felt like being lit up by a search beacon. Syl did not like it. ‘You should know my name is Corrus. I will not permit you to leave.’

The unwanted thought was as intrusive as a finger in the eye. Syl’s swords crashed into the Mawsworn’s spear harmlessly--but she’d interrupted the cast at least. Landed on her feet and danced aside before she could be taken by a swing from that very unfriendly looking spear. “--I don’t give a shit who you are. Get out of my way.”

Sinafay grunted, her spiritual form and time spent in the Maw causing her to tremble under the voice in her head. A pause was all it granted the Mawsworn as she shook it off and charged it from behind.

Unfortunately the shaman lacked the physical strength she had in life. Her blow landed, but was easily deflected by the assailant’s armor. He paid her no mind, his concentration set on the bigger threat, the large Light wielding Draenei in front of him. She huffed, frustrated, taking a few steps back, before charging again.

This time, she jumped up and swung down at one of the Mawsworn’s powerful wings. Success! It cut through part way before getting stuck, lodged in the wound.

Grounded and limping, Corrus found herself at a sudden disadvantage. The opening Sinafay provided was all Argonas needed to reinforce the notion-- a low sweep of his hammer took the remaining good leg out from under the Mawsworn, causing her to topple helplessly. Unable to stand, unable to get aloft… the disgraced Kyrian was in trouble! 

Argonas’ attack didn’t end there, either; as Corrus fell, the Draenei raised his shield up over her before bringing it down on its edge. Once, twice, battering Corrus with a series of painful impacts. She failed in any attempt to block, only able to free herself from beneath the Vindicator’s beratement with a sudden flap of her remaining good wing. Enough wind kicked up to cause Argonas to stumble back a step as the shield caught the gust over his head. She kicked away from him, and shrieked.

“You miserable mortals! I may have underestimated your tenacity, but no amount of fight will free you from your fate! Your souls will never escape the torment of this tower!”

The Mawsworn rose-- not by her wings, but by something else. She hovered a meter or so off the ground, a sickening energy permeating the air around her. Then, a dark haze-like shield surrounded Corrus as she began uttering another incantation! 

Her blades were up--but the sweep of the shield, the words... Sylaess grit her teeth. Found herself backing up from the sight, fighting off a wave of nauseating memories. A sort of bitten off shout was trapped between her clenched jaws, low and continuous. She simply held her swords.

Sinafay swung again with the axe, but the weapon only bounced uselessly on Corrus’ shield. A chill went down her spine as the energy in the room darkened. She looked towards Argo and Syl.

“Take cover! Now!”

She ran towards Syl, motioning for Argo to do the same.

“Shield!”

As she said the words, the room’s ceiling seemed to open up and dark energy enhanced spears began to rain down.

The Draenei raised his physical shield up overhead, cradling the Death Knight and the soul of his beloved close-- as close as he could for a soul, anyway. The dark spears were met with a brilliant Light that emanated from the Vindicator. An incandescent shield expanded over the trio, shielding them from the hail of blackened death! 

“NO!” Corrus shrieked in frustration! “Why won’t you fools just submit!”

Her power expended, she fell back to the ground, collapsing to a kneel. Her foot was still mangled. Her wing torn. She glared from beneath her darkened helmet at Sylaess, Argonas, and the soul she sought to keep imprisoned here. 

She was no match.

“This isn’t over!” she left them with her vague threat, before a familiar darkness overcame her-- not empowering her, but translocating her to elsewhere in the tower.

The fight was finished.

“Is everyone alright?” Argonas asked, glancing between Sylaess and Sinafay.

The elf blinked, peering after Corrus a long moment while she escaped from the closeness of others. The cacophony of spirits was getting louder and harder to block out. She shook her head, jostling herself back into thought. “Leave while we have a breath to do so.” Her swords rested in her hands as an afterthought. No; this would be the best chance she had, after all. ‘You can’t. You have to leave here, find him.’

Flat black eyes stared almost through the wisp, listening to the calm voice. The gentleness. A tone of caring, of love. Heartbreak. Familiarity. That empty calm seemed to mute the world around her in the moment like a thick blanket. She knew what to do. “I’ve got one last thing to do here. It isn’t ethical. So take your chance to leave--they come few and far between after all.”

‘Don’t do this to me. These are other souls!’

It didn’t matter what either of them did from here on out, she took a few steps back into the chamber. Settled her shoulders and shut the world out. Relatively. The spirits were chattering agitatedly. Took a slow breath in, and focused. Just like the Ebon ritualists had shown her. Breathe in. Empty mind. 

Would it even work?

Don’t worry about that. Just try.

‘Syl, no.’

Her breath tumbled out slowly, deliberately. Words chasing the end of it. “You don’t get that choice. They’re beyond saving.”

A steady trickle of power thrumming up through her swords. The pale icy gleam of runes, pre-written spells, coming to a guttering life in a deliberate pattern.

Sinafay’s moon-eyed look had been back on Argonas. Seeing him in action in all his Light filled glory was a sight she would never tire of. She grinned, elated. Finally, they would be out of the tower and out of the Maw! All her years of suffering were about to come to an end!

But, again, the air in the room changed, and she glanced over to Sylaess, worry and confusion set on her features.

“Syl? What are you doing?”

“Sylaess!” Argonas called out as well, brow furrowed.

He didn’t like this one bit. He knew the Death Knight was a variable from the start, but… to turn back and rush further into the tower so close to escape? He couldn’t believe it! What was she thinking!? Had she completely lost her mind?

Well… maybe, now that he thought about it. She wasn’t exactly holding it together before they arrived here, as he recalled.

Still, he had prepared for this possibility. Nothing would stop him from getting Sinafay out of this accursed place-- not even Sylaess. He decided several corridors back that if it came to saving Sinafay or saving Sylaess, he wouldn’t hesitate. And it seemed that moment was upon them now.

“... Damn it!” he cursed, before turning back towards the exit. “Quickly, Sina. We may not have much time!”

Sinafay shook her head, concerned gaze meeting his, fists clenched at her side. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her friend in this terrible place.

“No!” she answered, stubborn as ever, “We cannot just leave her here!”

“We have no choice!” Argonas scowled back. “She can take care of herself. But we must get you out of here!”

“I will not leave her!” came her reply, stomping a hoof down in frustration before turning to make her way towards her friend.

“Sinafay, get the fuck out of here while you have a chance.” Calm and still. Right. She looked at her swords again, keeping herself mostly turned from the pair. “I don’t intend to linger. Just go, I’ll catch up. I need to help him first.” 

The air around her was sharp with cold. Frost was growing off of her armor surprisingly fast. Had to focus. Draw whatever else she could to pull enough power, enough spirits nearby for this. It would be much easier if Sinafay wasn’t near.

“Fuck that! I am NOT leaving!”

“Yes you are.”

Suddenly, Sinafay was halted by something; a bar? A pole? A spear. Argonas knew he couldn’t touch her, himself. To a mortal like him, a soul was intangible. But the Mawsworn had weapons that both souls and mortals were affected by. Both could touch. In her haste, Corrus left behind her spear. It would have to do.

He made quick work of it, bending and folding the spear like a pretzel, wrapping it around Sinafay at her arms and chest. It worked! He could take hold of her now, by the darkened metal rod wrapped tightly around her.

“Forgive me, but I am not about to let you stay in this place!”

“NO!” She let out a frustrated shout, “Argo, let me go!”

He brought Sinafay up over his shoulder, handling her by the metal which bound her, and turned to depart-- but not without casting one more glance back at Sylaess. He didn’t like whatever it was she was doing. The aura felt malicious. As malicious as anything they had encountered in the tower already. Whatever she was doing, he knew it was best if he didn’t see it…

“Be quick, Sylaess.” were the only instructions he muttered. “Do not die… again…”

The elf didn’t so much as flinch at him. She sat on the floor with a sigh and put the hilt of her sword in her mouth and bit down. Hard. The runes were dizzy bright now, the spirits were losing it.

Resigned to the tumble of events.

‘You can’t do this!’ ‘I made the choice a few minutes ago, catch up. If I don’t, you’re gone. You’ll be gone the moment I walk out those doors if this doesn’t go on.’

She shut her eyes against the wisp’s insistent fluttering. The muscles of her jaw contort, knotting. As if words were trying to spill out but were stopped by her claim on the hilt. A snarl formed in her throat, breath hissing out of her nose and mouth. A splintering sound--

There was a long moment of silence. An absence of the crowd of fragmented spirits. She sagged, spitting out what was probably fragments of a tooth, or metal. Didn’t care to check. But Solieyu was there in a truer form. Standing. Staring in disbelief and dismay.

One more sharp breath drawn in, and she spits the pommel out. Wiping her chin with the back of a hand.

[codegemini]

Profile

FC: Lauren Cohan

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Warcraft Verse

BASIC

Name: Sinafay

Nickname: Sina

DoB: Unknown

Age: +1,100 years

Gender: Cis Female

Race: Draenei

Profession: Elementalist and Jewelcrafter

Talents: Agility based fighter; axes, maces and hand to hand combat. Element enhanced fighter and mender.

Languages: Draenei, Orcish, Common

PHYSICAL

Hair Color: Blonde

Style: Shoulder length, left loose though occasionally tied back or braided.

Eyes: White

Body Type: Athletic

Height: 7’0”

Body Modification: None

PSYCHOLOGICAL

Romantic Orientation: Hetero romantic

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Married to Argonas the Ironclad

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Disposition: Friendly, Flirty, Impulsive

Psychological Disorders: PTSD, Alcoholic, Hypersexual

Personality: Rebellious, stubborn and passionate, Sinafay will always fight for what she believes is right, regardless of the law. While mostly quiet and withdrawn, she's quick to succumb to anger and aggression in stressful situations. She’s empathic towards the elements and is always working to try and understand and help them better. She holds a particular hatred towards Orcs.

Current Situation: Recovering in Ardenweald after her rebirth.

-----------------------------------------

Sigma Verse

BASIC

Code Name: Gemini

Name: Unknown

Nickname: Gemi

DoB: May 20th

Age: 32

Gender: Cis Female

Race: Enhanced Human

Education: Degree in computer programming and computer science

Profession: Vigilante, mercenary

Talents: Hacking, reprogramming and Infiltration

Languages: Multilingual

PHYSICAL

Hair Color: Brown and blonde 

Style: Shoulder length, left loose though occasionally tied back or braided.

Eyes: Gold

Complexion: Healthy peach coloured skin. Usually wearing makeup.

Body Type: Athletic

Height: 5‘8”

Body Modification: Ear and navel piercings. Cybernetic implants that allow interfacing with various computer systems.

PSYCHOLOGICAL

Romantic Orientation: Panromantic

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Disposition: Friendly, Flirty, Impulsive

Psychological Disorders: PTSD, Alcoholic, Hypersexual

[sinafay-the-defiant]

Misguided Justice - Pt. II

 (( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant / @grakkar-gorefang​ ))

Part 1

“NO!”

As the scream echoed out, a heavy, light charged hand axe struck the Vindicator in the chest, exploding on contact. The force knocked him back, cracking his armor. A second one followed in succession, the force of the second blow shattering the armor and lodging into the flesh beneath it.

Sinafay stood at the doorway of the workshop, eyes alight with righteous fury. An aura of Light surrounded her form, power crackling and arcing in tune with her volatile emotions. Bright, light-born wings sprouted from her back as she took hold of a third weapon, a battle axe, before charging in. Argonas barely had time to bring up a shield of Light to block the blow, but the force still caused him to move back. He’d expended a lot of energy taking out Grakkar, and hadn’t expected his former student to recover so quickly.

“I never should have  trusted you!” She raged as she swung again and again, unrelenting! “You’re no better than Yrel and her army of blinded zealots! You failed as a teacher! Failed as a mentor! Failed as a friend!”

Angry tears stung her eyes and she choked back a sob. Argonas had gone and taken away one of the most precious things in her life… and she’d kill him before allowing him to touch a hair on her daughter’s head.

“Fuck you! You should have let us be!”

Gripping the battle axe with one hand, she swung again, only to bring her other hand up to fire a light blast into his face, blinding him temporarily as she jumped up and landed a vicious headbutt into his nose. Once again, her tail wrapped around his leg. She tugged as she spun around, his disorientation causing him to fall flat onto his back. 

“Justice be served!”

She brought the battle axe up with both hands, bright Light radiating off of her and the weapon, ready to bring in down onto the Vindicator in a brutally deadly blow.

But Argonas was not as easily killed! He swung his tail out to trip Sinafay, as she had done to him mere seconds prior, enough to disrupt the would-be coup de grace. Following up with a swift kick, he managed to knock her back and away from him! 

“You know nothing of justice!” he cried out.

He rose quickly, intent on retaliating immediately, but even the Vindicator had his limits. The axes she’d thrown had cut him deeply, his blue blood now gushing from his chest beneath the plate. His nose, too, dribbled with blood from the headbutt.  Bringing his hand up to the deep wound, he called upon the Light to stunt the bleeding. He stabilized… but not well. He felt his strength waning, his vision blurring as his head felt light. 

This couldn’t be it! This couldn’t be all the Light had spared him for! Justice would be done! It had to be! He narrowed his eyes, blurred vision notwithstanding, and began to trudge towards Sinafay once again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to claim victory over his former student… but he had to try.

“I… am the Light’s justice!” he declared, between labored breaths. “The Light’s VENGEANCE!”

Sinafay chuckled darkly as she got back up and picked up the battleaxe, standing tall as she gripped the handle with both hands.

“Take your vengeance to the Maw.”

She didn’t pause this time, charging up the battleaxe and meeting him in his advance. A couple of swings was all it took, one to knock him off his guard, and the other into the barely stabilized wound in his chest, the searing Light tearing deep into the tissue as it made its way through his chest and out his back.

The Light faded from his form. He stared at Sinafay, a mixture of shock and anger on his final expression. It hurt more than he thought it would, dying by her hand. One he’d cared about once. One he helped to cultivate into a warrior. One who betrayed her people… betrayed him! This was not a just death. This couldn’t be the end of the path the Light had for him. He collapsed to his knees, body growing cold as blood oozed out from both wounds.

“... I… only did… what I thought...  was…”

With that, Argonas fell onto his back, the clamoring of his plated armor serving as his death knell. Sinafay didn’t move, standing and staring until she saw the Light fade from his eyes completely.

She panted as the adrenaline died down. Only then did she finally drop the battle axe and allowed tears to flow freely down her face. Her shoulders shook as she choked out a sob. She’d taken no pleasure in executing Argonas. It didn’t take away her anger, her rage or her sadness. It didn’t bring back Grakkar ; bring her husband and Neelah’s father back. She brought a hand up over her mouth to cover up more sobs, turning her blurry gaze to her mate’s lifeless body.

She made her way over and let herself fall to her knees next to him, ignoring the blood as she leaned over the body, cupping his cold face in her hands. He’d died fighting with honor; the way any Warsong Orc would have wanted. But she knew… oh she knew… he hadn’t gone to join his ancestors. 

Grakkar was in the Maw.

“Light, please…”, she begged in a trembling voice, “Give me the strength...”

She was exhausted, but she had to try. He’d done the impossible for her; had found his way through space and time on a crazy suicide mission, to rescue her from the torturous prison she’d been sentenced to on Draenor. Their love had prevailed back then, and it had only grown stronger since then. 

Sinafay closed her eyes and calmed herself with some deep breathing. She brought her hands over the gaping hole in his chest. Everything she had left, she poured into him, her love, her passion, her hope, her faith… she channeled it all through the Light. For a second time, golden wings sprouted from her back as she poured healing energy into her mate’s fallen body. The sound of cracking bones could be heard as his rib cage snapped back into place and tissue repaired itself… the worst of it anyway...

“Grakkar,” she whispered, urging the Light to call his soul back, “Please… hear me... and come back home.”

The Orc’s body shook, the Light energies jarring his corpse until… it wasn’t so lifeless! Grakkar’s eyes shot open as he suddenly inhaled a long, labored gasp. Then a hoarse cough! His body tensed and writhed under the latent pain from his death. His chest slowly began rising and falling again, though felt sore and tight. Unsurprisingly, considering. His hands came up from his sides to grip at it, finding instead another hand already in place. He looked up, eyes finding difficulty adjusting to the brilliant Light before him.

“... The… ancestors…?”

Sinafay’s golden eyes were wide in surprise. Her face was streaked in blood and tears…. And more tears joined them as she realized she’d succeeded! The Light surrounding her diminished as the task was completed. Exhaustion set in, but she forced herself to stay awake.

“Grakkar…” she managed, voice strained and weak, “My Love… Thank the Light!”

She leaned in over his body again, this time bringing her arms around him in a gentle embrace. Fresh sobs took her over, this time in relief. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so afraid! Even the torture the Draenei had inflicted upon her didn’t compare to the sorrow of losing Grakkar so suddenly; of Neelah losing her father before being old enough to form any coherent memory of him. But once more, through the powers of the Light, their love overcame the worst of obstacles. She was so grateful!

“S-Sina! I… Wait, what…?” Grakkar wheezed, still seeming rather incoherent.

“--Sina!”

Another voice rang out. A familiar one. A pair of heavy hoof beats drew closer, armor plating clanking as they drew near. Avehi surveyed the scene with a heavy scowl. She’d done her best to come as soon as she’d received Raetos’ warning, but it had been slow going in convincing the Grand Vindicator. She looked over Sinafay and Grakkar first. Then, her lichfire eyes were drawn to the freshly-slain corpse. 

Accompanying her came an aged Lightforged, adorned in brilliant armor. He carried himself with a nameless-yet-pronounced dignity, exuding a commanding presence. He, too, looked over the scene with a furrowed brow, before kneeling down beside Sinafay and Grakkar. His brow raised, pausing a moment as he examined the freshly revived Orc in the Draenei’s arms. Curious, indeed.

It took Sinafay a moment to register the new arrivals, refusing to look up from her huddled position over Grakkar. Her body still trembled from the emotional distress of the event, and the exhaustion the resurrection had taken on her body. Even her wounds had re-opened, though thankfully weren’t fatal. Still, hearing Grakkar speak, hearing his heartbeat, feeling the warmth return to his body… It brought her much needed comfort.

She didn’t move until she felt a gentle yet heavy hand on her shoulder. Only then did she lift her head and brought her tired gaze to… a ghost?

“... What happened here, Sister?” he asked, voice grizzled, yet soothing.

“Khan-Khanaros? But… how…”

It took a moment to register, she had never even thought to discover what had happened to the Khanaros in this time stream. The High Vindicator in her timeline had met a mysterious death early on in Yrel’s rule, back on Draenor. She had never gotten the chance to meet him, but had been inspired by his words back then, before the end. His presence here brought relief. A familiar face she recognized as good.

“--Hmph! Isn’t it obvious, Khanaros?” Avehi scoffed-- nearly snarling. “He actually did it. Argonas had gone completely zealous! Just like I said he would! Light-blind fool…”

She grunted, approaching Argonas’ lifeless corpse. Staring in disdain, she pressed her hoof up against his plated pauldron, and ground it in as an offensive gesture. She couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction she got from seeing him dead.

“He got what he fucking deserved for it, too.”

Sinafay heard Avehi’s words, but didn’t have the strength to turn and look at her friend. How she wished they’d arrived only a few moments earlier...

“He… came to execute us…” she answered in a half drawl, “Killed Grakkar… but I… the Light… it returned him… to me.”

Khanaros nodded slowly, looking from Sinafay to Grakkar, and back. He felt a tinge of awkwardness-- yet another Vindicator he didn’t seem to recall. He’d trained so many, he wasn’t sure when this one rolled through. But he didn’t dwell on it, instead nodding with reassurance to her.

“The Light is a powerful force of redemption. It seems it was not yet this Orc’s time. Through you, it saw this poor creature’s return--”

“--That’s her mate, Khanaros.” Avehi piped up, still staring at Argonas’ corpse.

The High Vindicator blinked as Sinafay frowned at him. He was somewhat stunned by the revelation. Few things surprised him anymore, but…

“... I see. Well, Grakkar, you said? The Light redeemed him through you, Sister. You must have a strong connection to it.” he went on, before looking to Grakkar. “And… to him, as well.”

Grakkar seemed even more lost now, since the arrival of the two Draenei. He recognized Avehi, at least. But this older one was… somewhat unsettling. He grunted, trying to sit up.

“Who is this, Sina?” he asked, voice gradually returning to normal.

“That can wait.” Avehi interjected again, sternly. “We need to get them appropriate care. And determine what we’re going to do with this piece of shit.”

Her gauntlets tensed, crackling with icy blue lichflame. A dread energy filled the air, emanating a nearly-visible weight of darkness around the Death Knight and the corpse. She grit her teeth, as she held her hand out over Argonas’ body.

“I think death’s too good for him, personally. He could use an undead’s perspective.”

“--Avehi, no.” Khanaros replied, sternly. 

He rose from Sinafay’s side, and paced over to the Death Knight. The exhausted Vindicator returned her attention to her mate, clearly caring about nothing else at that particular moment.

Avehi huffed, lowering her hand and stepping back from Argonas as the High Vindicator approached. She’d figured he wouldn’t go for that…

“Hmph. Fine. Suffering in the Maw works just as well. When we save the others… perhaps we’ll save him last, yes?”

Khanaros approached Argonas’ body, and looked it over appraisingly. He noted the wound-- easily identified with the axe still lodged in it. With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, and leaned his head back to face the sky. Slowly, he exhaled once more, pensively. 

“... No. He cannot atone, with his soul imprisoned.” he said, looking down to his fallen student. “It is not yet his time, either.”

Kneeling down, Khanaros pulled the axe from Argonas’ chest, quickly covering the wound with his plated hand. The Light wrapped around his form as he channeled its potent power into the fallen Vindicator’s body. As with Sinafay, when she’d revived her mate, brilliant wings born of Light emerged forth from the High Vindicator’s back. Slowly, Argonas’ wounds began to close, as the connection between his body and soul slowly pulled back together. 

Avehi took a step back, the concentration of Light energy more than a little uncomfortable for her. She grimaced, backing away beside Sinafay and Grakkar. Her eyes kept focused on Khanaros as he worked, however. She felt a bitter disgruntlement set in; a far better treatment than Argonas had earned, in her opinion!

~*~

TO BE CONTINUED...

[avehi-the-adamant]

Justified

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini / @miernethepersevering, and @prancingmad / @nedemus. Ravanhi belongs to cursedkat! Follow her on twitter!))

~*~

The High Vindicator felt largely out of place. His glistening armor, imbued with the Light’s radiant power, stood out all the more so in the conservative and reverent Stormwind Cemetery. He recalled visiting this place once before, laying to rest an old friend from the Northrend campaign. He felt a sense of shame wash over him, realizing he hadn’t visited since; had he really been so busy? Too busy? Even when he was in Stormwind for business… he realized now he’d never come by. His golden glance turned towards the humble grave plot of Marshal Damien Townsend, who gave his life to put an end to the Lich King’s reign. His brow furrowed, resolutely - he would visit him today, after all this.

All this, of course, being hearing out Avehi the Adamant, who had been raising the dead around Azeroth for - based on second-hand accounts - she felt was a just and noble reason. The Draenei’s skin crawled at the very notion. A good reason to raise the dead? He couldn’t fathom one! A part of him had already decided her fate, and wanted to see Avehi locked away for what she’d done. Raising people who deserved rest, like Zaalesh and others. Khanaros’ blood boiled at the thought of such defilement. But the other part knew that justice couldn’t be served without hearing the whole story. Bits and pieces heard from others weren’t sufficient in such a case as this. He wanted to hear Avehi explain herself in person, before making his mind up fully.

“I… appreciate you coming with me, Mierne.” he turned, addressing his partner. “I know you’re here mostly to see that Avehi’s heard out fully and fairly… but I like to think you’re here for me, too.”

He smirked, reaching over to give the shaman’s hand a playful squeeze.

“I am here for you both, of course!”

Mierne leaned into Khanaros’ side with a light chuckle. She’d remained oddly silent, caught up in her own thoughts. She looked up at her partner, her gaze showing the sincerity of her words. It was true, her presence here was to assure Avehi would be fairly heard. While she didn’t know the full story behind the Ebon Knight’s actions, she was most certain they’d been done for good reason. Avehi was youthful and brash, but her heart was always in the right place. 

Khanaros, on the other hand, didn’t have the opportunity to remain neutral on the subject. She understood his difficult position in the matter, and the great responsibility of doing what was best for his people weighing on his shoulders.

“No matter what happens, I appreciate you doing this for her… for me. I realize this isn’t normal procedure, and that you are going out of your way…”

Her arm moved around his torso in a comforting embrace.

“Avehi is many things. She has been through so much. But through it all, she has always been an upfront and honest Draenei.”

"Mm. I appreciate honesty, and being up-front, of course," Khanaros grunted, "but there will be more to it than simply whether or not she tells the truth. If what she hopes to achieve is not commensurate with the Light…"

He cut the thought short, golden gaze cast upward as he beheld a trio of inbound winged creatures. Two were boney, skeletal creatures brimming with necrotic energies. It wasn't hard to guess who commanded those unholy beasts… The third was far more recognizable even at a distance; Argonas and his nether drake, glistening in the night sky. The three of them descended without delay, each landing in succession a short distance from Mierne and Khanaros. The High Vindicator nodded once.

"... I suppose we will learn, one way or the other." he grunted again, before stepping forward to meet the three.

Avehi dismounted Shinigosa promptly, before sending the frostwyrm back up to the sky. The ground was no place for such a creature; already enduring a burial beneath it, Shinigosa was quite keen on flying, and enjoying the freedom she felt in doing so. And Avehi was not one to deny her draconian partner such enjoyment. Her eyes settled on Khanaros, a beacon of Light in the quiet and dimly lit cemetery. One of two, now, as Argonas set hoof on the cobbles with little regard for the clamor each step caused. He had taxed Avehi's patience throughout their journey. Quite a bit beforehand, too. So much so, she couldn't be bothered to spare him a glance.

Instead, her eyes turned to Mierne. A smile graced her lips for what felt like the first time in a long time. Nedemus wasn't lying; he really had reached out to her in this matter. She turned to offer the Worgen an appreciative nod, before she approached her dear old friend. 

"Mierne… I'm sorry you're somehow caught up in this." she dipped her head. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to see you here."

Mierne’s reply came in the form of a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around the Death Knight, giving her that motherly comfort she no doubt needed.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’m just happy to see that you’re safe.”

She leaned in to whisper in her ear so that the two Light suffused beings wouldn’t hear.

“I know Vindicators can be exhausting to work with, but give them a bit of patience today, hm? I am here to assure you are heard.”

Placing a soft kiss on her friend’s cheek, she offered an encouraging smile, before stepping back and finally nodding a greeting to Argonas and Nedemus.

“Thank you both for assuring her safety here.”

Nedemus stepped off of Obelisk, as the skeletal gryphon dispersed, burying itself down into the ground away from the cemetery. The worgen made sure to keep ahead of Argonas, already tired of the ridiculous views that spewed from his mouth, as he took his place beside Avehi, nodding to Mierne. “Of course. Though, I think all parties involved-” He glanced towards the brash young Draenei once more. “- myself and Avehi included, should agree no weapons drawn in this place.”

He said, letting out a small snort as he crossed his arms, nostrils flaring a bit in frustration, but masking his actual intent…

“Out of the question!” Argonas interjected. “Should the need arise, I will not hesitate to draw my sword against the likes of you. I think it better that you agree not to give a reason for me to do so!”

“Calm yourself, Vindicator.” Khanaros stepped forward, eyes on the younger male. “Remember to temper your frustrations, yes? Control your emotions, do not allow them to control you.”

He offered a warm, settling smile to his former trainee, placing a hand on his plated shoulder in a welcoming manner. He nodded once, then looked to Nedemus - sparing the worgen such familiar gestures as putting hands on him, but acknowledging him positively nonetheless.

“Argonas, Nedemus, I echo Mierne’s sentiment; thank you both for seeing Avehi here safely.” he dipped his head in appreciation. “That you are able to set aside your differences for a common goal speak well of both of you, and your reverence for seeing justice done.”

Argonas exhaled a sigh, following his mentor’s counsel in calming himself. He could feel the tension manifest in knots along his neck and shoulders - a burden he’d carried far longer than just this mission. The High Vindicator always could read him well. Humbled, he nodded in response, casting a more amicable glance towards Nedemus… then to Avehi. His brow still furrowed, but the expression was much softer than usual. He was trying.

Nedemus glanced towards Avehi, upon realizing that indeed, this ragtag group of Draenei and Dog were alone in the cemetery. His gaze switched back to Argonas, watching him as they spoke.

“And you, Avehi,” Khanaros turned from Argonas and Nedemus back to Avehi and Mierne, “I appreciate you agreeing to meet here - from what I’m told, a more comfortable, neutral setting given the circumstance?”

Avehi, too, had calmed significantly in the presence of an old friend. Mierne was a comfort to her on even the worst of days. It was fortunate, too - without her trusted friend there to quell her bristly, defensive demeanor, Avehi couldn’t imagine this exchange going well at all. She dipped her head politely, amicably, to the High Vindicator as he acknowledged her.

“Mm, it was an appealing enough invitation. In that… the alternatives were unacceptable.” she put as politely as her irritation would allow. “But nonetheless, I’m here. Let’s get this over with, shall we? What do you wish to know?”

“Everything.” came Khanaros’ vague, but direct response. “What has driven you to do what you’re doing? Why would you raise so many people like Vindicator Zaalesh from death?”

Avehi sighed, tail flickering again. For a second time, she found herself justifying her actions to entities she very nearly reviled. People whose judgment was skewed, albeit in different ways. She leveled her gaze at Khanaros, as if appraising him. The Ebon Blade, at least, had some familiarity with the afterlife. But how could he possibly understand? Would he see this all the same as Argonas did; that Draenei, and other adherents of the Light, should be immune to the machinations of the afterlife? Her eyes narrowed for a brief second, in frustration and disgust. Her words would fall on deaf ears here. Just as the Light blinds, it also deafens. All of this would be a waste of time! She opened her mouth to speak… but hesitated, glancing once more to Mierne. 

Mierne was different from these Light-revering Draenei that summoned and brought her here. Different from most other Draenei. She was patient, open minded, and most importantly willing to give the benefit of the doubt in matters she didn’t understand. Above all that… she was here. She made an effort to see that Avehi would be heard out thoroughly and fairly. An effort Avehi couldn’t waste… if Mierne was trying, Avehi could try too. The Death Knight cleared her throat, and began to explain.

“There is a veil between this existence and the existence beyond death. We Death Knights walk both worlds, and therefore can pass through the veil in ways the living cannot. It is… not unlike how the Auchenai would commune with the departed.” she kept her composure calm, and spoke slowly and succinctly. “When a living soul dies, it journeys to an afterlife commensurate with their worth. Noble souls ascend to planes of righteousness and honor. For Draenei, this is joining with the Light. For elves, returning to nature. It differs for different peoples.”

Khanaros nodded slowly, taking in the information. On some level he knew all this; he thought back to his youth, all those millenia ago on Argus. Back then, the Eredar’s concept of the afterlife didn’t include joining with the Light. It was much more… ambiguous. Nonetheless, all this seemed proper and plausible. He motioned for Avehi to continue.

“Less-than noble souls… those of malicious and terrible beings, regardless of the peoples… those souls are dragged down into a place we call the Maw. Their eternal existences there is one of torment and suffering.” Avehi elaborated. “It is a realm of pain the likes of which no mortal can fathom. As a creature whose existence is wrought with pain and torment… trust me when I say the Maw is as terrible as it could ever get. The Legion, the Old Gods… none of it compare to the Maw.”

“I see… Justice permeates beyond this veil, and those deserving of it are punished for transgressions, yes?” Khanaros affirmed - so far, this all made sense to him. “But what does this have to do with your actions here on Azeroth?”

Avehi shook her head, brow furrowing.

“A few months ago, when I was traversing through this veil… I sensed something. A disturbance of some kind. I didn’t know exactly what. A surge of power… and yet an absence of it? It didn’t make sense.” she grunted in latent frustration at the memory. “I took it upon myself to investigate, worried it was some plot of the Ebon Blade’s, happening beyond the notice of the war-torn factions of the Horde and Alliance. But I came to learn even they didn’t know, and shared in my desire to discover what was happening.”

“And… what is happening?” Khanaros pressed.

“Justice… is not being served.” Avehi stated. “For reasons we still don’t know, all souls - even noble souls - are being pulled into the Maw to suffer eternally.”

“What? How is that possible?” came the High Vindicator’s skeptical questioning.

“I said we still don’t know!” Avehi snapped, reflexively. 

She cleared her throat, recollecting herself before continuing. Nedemus stepped to her side, bringing up his hand and placing it on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her as best he could in this situation. The Draenei nodded in appreciation to Nedemus, before straightening. She leveled her gaze to the High Vindicator once more, and continued. 

“That is… it’s hard to be certain. Even to the undead, the majority of processes and machinations of the afterlife are largely shrouded in mystery. We don’t know much at all… but we certainly know more than most living.” she corrected, as politely as she could muster. “This even came as something of a surprise to Exarch Ravanhi of the Auchenai. She and her ilk have sensed this disturbance as well, but lack the capacity to scry beyond the veil that they once had. The capacity the Ebon Blade yet holds, at least somewhat.”

“Ravanhi.” Khanaros repeated the name under his breath.

He was familiar with the Exarch; a fellow Argus-born Draenei, one of few still around. Khanaros recalled Ravanhi as a gentle soul and a curious mind. Her days on Argus were spent as a humble priestess contemplating the nature of existence itself. That passion and wisdom served her well as a High Priestess of the Auchenai on Draenor, and again in more recent days serving as a diplomat to the Kaldorei people. He’d always found her to be polite and thoughtful… yet tormented in a way. Lonely and reclusive, Khanaros got the sense the suffering of their people resonated much deeper with her over the nigh-countless years. But knowing her, she’d never let such despair claim her. Not while there remained others in need. 

He grunted, nodding slowly as he refocused his attention to the Death Knight before him. It was both curious and comforting that Avehi had sought out the Auchenai concerning such a severe-sounding matter. If nothing else, it spoke positively of her intentions; were she raising the dead for some nefarious purpose, interactions with the Auchenai would be the last thing she’d want. And if someone as spiritually-attuned as Ravanhi also felt the strange disturbance Avehi spoke of… that surely lent credence to her story.

“You know this Exarch, sir?” 

Argonas piped up, if only to break up the silence that permeated the cemetery during the contemplative moment. He furrowed his brow, luminous eyes glancing between his honored mentor and traitorous sister. They settled on the latter, scrutinously; this was the first he was hearing of any Auchenai contact! Was she making it up…?

“I know of her, yes.” Khanaros nodded to Argonas, before exhaling a sigh. “So… if I am assuming correctly, Avehi, you’re raising these people as a means to prevent them from being trapped in the Maw?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Avehi affirmed with a single nod. “Until such time as I can discern a better way, raising them is the only means to keep them from being lost forever.”

“And… you are certain that existence in the Maw is a worse fate than an existence of undeath?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How can you be sure of this?”

“I’ve seen it.” she scowled. “Through great concentration and effort, I was able to… project myself, for lack of a better term, to the Maw. I was looking for someone specific… and found someone else instead.”

“Looking for who?”

Avehi glanced to Argonas, and stifled a grunt.

“Sinafay. A Vindicator from alternate Draenor, and a friend of mine.” she explained. “I thought I sensed her, which would’ve meant she had died. I went to the Maw to find her, and maybe ask where she died so I could…”

Avehi shook her head, letting the thought finish itself. No one present had any illusions as to what she was doing now, anyway. She’d been honest enough about it. Argonas’ brow furrowed deeper still as he peered at Avehi. That she would even consider raising Sinafay - Orc-lover or not - was atrocious!

“And… you found someone else instead?” Khanaros asked, keeping the exchange on track.

“I did, yes.” Avehi stated, eyes still affixed, unblinking, at the younger Vindicator. “Sinafay. But from this timeline. Argonas’ wife.”

“LIES!”

Argonas had heard enough! Too much to remain passive anymore! He stepped forward towards Avehi, fists clenched!

“How dare you implicate my wife in your deceit? How dare you even speak her name with your defiler’s mouth!?”

“Argonas,” Mierne was quick to get between the Vindicator and Avehi.

Nedemus retracted, stepping back. He had begun to intercept Argonas’ movements, but stopped as he noticed Mierne step in. His foot slid back to position, his gaze glancing towards Avehi as he waited to see if the shaman could handle the zealous fool.

Her hands came up to his chest in an effort to stop his advance. Even though they were no longer intimate, she hoped their friendship was enough for her words to calm him. Her eyes held nothing but concern for the younger Vindicator. If anyone knew how difficult Sinafay’s passing had been for him, it was her. He’d spent a whole year on her island, in isolation, mourning her loss. She’d seen the devastation in his dealings with the alternate version of her. 

“I understand your anger, but you must keep a clear head, yes? There is still much that needs to be learned before any judgment can be made” she kept her voice soft and soothing. 

“Hmph! There is still much truth to be learned! None of these blatant lies serve to see justice met!” Argonas continued protesting. “This is an obvious attempt at manipulation! She seeks to  establish some personal credibility to her twisted and outlandish tale!”

He stayed by Mierne’s hand, but showed no signs of calming or backing down. His piercing gaze still affixed accusingly to Avehi. The Death Knight returned his scowl defiantly, tail flickering in agitation as he went on his rant. Her eyes narrowed.

“It’s true, Argonas. Your wife is in the Maw.” she reiterated. “And the longer you try and hold me up, the longer she’ll suffer there!”

“SHUT UP!”

With his aggressive outburst, Argonas brusquely pushed past Mierne. Amber Light arced across his plated body, brought on by his unbridled rage. He brought a hand up to reach back behind him for his sheathed blade as he stomped towards Avehi!

Nedemus growled out, placing himself between Argonas and the Draenei, though his own blade stayed holstered on his back. “Stand down, Argonas.”

“Step aside, you accursed dog corpse! Or you shall be the first--”

“--Vindicator Argonas.”

He stopped in his tracks. The Light sparking off of the Vindicator subsided, Argonas almost wincing at Khanaros’ command. The High Vindicator didn’t raise his voice much louder than usual, but his tone struck with authority. Command. Disappointment. Slowly, Argonas’ hand lowered from the hilt of his crystalline sword, as he turned his gaze; an angered and vindictive glare at Nedemus, to a remissive and chastised leer as it settled on his old mentor.

“You brought Avehi here to be heard, correct?” Khanaros continued his reprimanding. “I will be the judge of the merit and intent of her words. Not you. Is that understood?”

“... As you say, High Vindicator.” Argonas replied, tone laced with begrudgement. 

He scowled once more at Nedemus, then again at Avehi, before stepping back - an apologetic glance to Mierne as he passed her by again.

The shaman brought a comforting hand up to the Vindicator’s arm as he moved by her. There was no disappointment to be seen in her features as she looked up at him, only concern. His reaction towards Avehi’s words, while non-conductive to what they were trying to achieve, was understandable.

“I know this is difficult, but we must keep a clear head. I know Avehi well, and I do feel her words are worth investigating, at the very least. If she is right, and the unspeakable has befallen your wife, then there are other ways to verify that claim, I’m certain.”

She glanced to Khanaros.

“I do not have a connection with the afterlife… but another shaman… or perhaps a priest? I’m certain they have a connection with the dead. If you do not trust the words of Death Knights, then perhaps calling on a worthy soul that has recently passed could communicate what they see.”

Khanaros exhaled a sigh, as he looked Avehi over. Pensive, thoughtful… still not entirely convinced. He knew this would be a difficult thing to hear out and pass suitable judgment on, but more so than he had anticipated. There was a lot of new information to consider, to process, and to weigh against the greater good of not just his people, but all people in general. Slowly, he shook his head.

“A difficult claim to verify, seeing as none of us possess the capacity to venture into this place ourselves.” he lamented, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there any way you can prove that you saw Argonas’ wife? Or… any of this, for that matter?”

Avehi huffed. There wasn’t an easy way to do that, unfortunately. Khanaros was right about that. For a moment, she considered his point of view; would she be skeptical if their positions were reversed? No… no she wouldn’t. She would trust Khanaros, and take his word as truth at face value. A courtesy he apparently wasn’t willing to extend to her. Her nose crinkled, nostrils flaring in frustration. This was a waste of time.

“Allow me to kill and raise Argonas. He can see her for himself. Then come back and tell you all about it.” she snapped, glowering. “If you won’t take my word for it, perhaps you’ll take his!”

“Mind yourself, Avehi. Take this seriously, as I have been. Your indignation is no more helpful than Argonas’ aggression!” Khanaros snapped back, with a scowl of his own. “Given what you’ve been doing, it’s not unfair to ask for some manner of verification of your claim.”

He shook his head, and cleared his throat. 

“I will ask again - if you know of a way your claim can be proven to us, I would hear it.”

Avehi scoffed, eyes trailing to Argonas. She stared at him for a moment, before speaking again.

“I spoke with her. She is lost, and scared. She thought you died as well. And she worried she somehow deserved to be there, and that you separated from her and joined with the Light.” she explained, managing her tone. “I told her you yet lived. And she gave me a message for you. She told me to tell you - in her words, mind you - to ‘stop being a dumbass’. And she said to have some alcohol ready for her when you bring her home.”

Argonas’ scowl remained, brow only knitting further with every word. His hands tensed to fists, lip curling to bare his teeth. He grunted.

“... High Vindicator, you give this thing far too much leeway.” he growled. “I will not stand here while you permit Avehi to besmirch my deceased wife in such a manner!”

“Then… you are dismissed.”

Argonas snapped his gaze to the High Vindicator, in shock!

“--What?”

“You are dismissed, Argonas.” he repeated, firmly. “Your presence is no longer required.”

“B-But… what about her? What is your judgment?”

Khanaros glanced to Argonas briefly, before sighing and looking to Avehi once more. 

“Either she’s fabricated an elaborate lie to buy herself time… or she’s expressing to us a terrible truth.” he stated. “I am choosing to believe the latter, in this case.”

Avehi, too, looked surprised. She hadn’t expected Khanaros to believe her. To trust her. With all she’d seen so far, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t already made up his mind. In affirmation, she nodded to the High Vindicator.

“I… thank you.” she uttered, hesitantly.

“This is outrageous!” Argonas shouted, in anger! “She has been raising the dead! She came here and slandered my dead wife! And you believe her blatant lies?”

“You find error in my judgment, Vindicator Argonas?” Khanaros asked, tone threatening.

He didn’t even glance at Argonas' way. Instead he approached Avehi, arms still crossed before him. His gaze was penetrating, and severe.

“She knows if she is lying, there will be no second chance. If I must send someone for her a second time, it will not be to invite her to be heard.” he replied to Argonas… and cautioned the Death Knight. “I will be following up with the Auchenai to verify these things. Perhaps even the Ebon Blade, if they’ll speak to me. But one way or another, I will find out the truth.”

He dipped his head to Avehi, stern expression softening just so.

“And I hope when I do, I will owe you both an apology and appreciation for bringing this to my attention.”

“Hm! Then I will expect both once you’ve looked into this yourself, High Vindicator.” Avehi smirked, bowing her head in return.

Behind them, Argonas was seething. His face contorted into a hideous scowl, as he clenched his fists so hard as to cause his gauntlets to begin buckling! His face flushed blue, vessels bulging beneath his skin. With an agitated grunt, he turned and stomped off - he had been dismissed, after all… 

Mierne breathed a sigh of relief as Khanaros gave his verdict. She looked over to him as Argonas stomped off, giving him a smile and a nod of approval. 

“I will allow you to finish your business, then. See you tonight,” she informed her lover, before following after the younger Vindicator.

Nedemus nodded softly towards Khanaros. “Thank you for allowing her the chance to speak, Khanaros… Argonas seemed to make it appear that she had no choice in the matter, that you were unreasonable. Doesn’t seem like he was representing you well.”

Khanaros nodded to Mierne as she departed, before looking to Nedemus. He exhaled a heavy sigh, and shook his head.

“Argonas has always been… direct. Presumptuous.” he shrugged. “Despite what you may have seen of him here tonight, he means well. Perhaps not for you specifically, but for the world as a whole.”

“Hmph. If that were true, he wouldn’t work so hard to interfere.” Avehi commented, with a light scoff. “This issue grows worse by the day, and there’s still no clear way forward.”

“Mm, there’s still no clear problem, to many of us. I would not have known any wiser if you had not told me of it.” Khanaros explained. “For Argonas… his reluctance to believe all this shouldn’t surprise you. If not because it is adverse to all he knows, because accepting it means accepting the painful truth that his wife is suffering… and that he’s helpless to stop it.”

The High Vindicator shook his head, as he stepped back from the pair of Death Knights. He regarded them both, appraisingly. 

“We will be in touch. Not only as I follow up on what you’ve revealed here tonight, but I also expect if anything more develops… you’ll let me know, correct?”

Avehi nodded once more, before dipping her head respectfully. 

“We will, Khanaros. It is… a relief… to have your support in all this.”

“Mm. It isn’t support just yet. Not until I learn more of it. But for now… I’ll do what I can to see to it that your investigations aren’t hindered.” he replied, brow furrowed. “I make no guarantees; going around raising the dead certainly doesn’t sit well with a vast majority of people. So being, I trust you’re at least keeping that to a minimum?”

“As much as I can.” Avehi nodded once more. “This existence isn’t any I would wish on anyone. But compared to the Maw…”

She trailed off, shaking her head. Khanaros nodded, understanding nonetheless. He turned from the two, and began to walk the cobbled path - deeper into the cemetery, rather than out of it. 

“Mm. Light guide you, Avehi. Nedemus.” he bid them as he departed. 

“I entrust you to do what is right.”

~*~

[argonas]

LFRP: Argonas the Ironclad

Art by: @kidcatgemini​

The Basics ––––

Age: 1,067

Birthday: November 5th

Race: Draenei

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Marital Status: Widowed

Server: Wyrmrest Accord - US

Physical Appearance ––––

Hair: Light Brown

Eyes: Luminous

Height: 2.41m

Build: Muscular

Distinguishing Marks: Scarring on face, rune scars etched into upper arms and back.

Common Accessories: Crystal sword, always in plated armor.

FC: Terry Crews

Personal ––––

Profession: Vindicator

Affiliations: The Aldor, the Silver Hand, the Alliance

Hobbies: Working out / Training

Languages: Draenic, Eredun, Common, Orcish, some Darnassian

Residence: The Exodar

Birthplace: The Genedar

Religion: Devout adherent of the Holy Light

Fears: Becoming Undead, Krokul, or otherwise losing his connection to the Light.

Relationships –––-

Spouse: Sinafay (Deceased)

Children: None

Parents: Raaskus & Kri’ore (deceased)

Siblings: None Known 

Other Relatives: None known (Open to potential PC Relatives)

Pets: None

Art by: @sylaessart​

Traits –––-

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––––

Smoking Habit: No

Drugs: No

Alcohol: When sad

Art by: @dinnasaw​

RP Hooks ––––

From Draenor? Argonas lived in Talador, near the Jorune mine where he worked. He trained as a Vindicator in Shattrath, and even helped defend the city from the Highmaul Ogres! 

Argonas is a warrior of the Light, and has fought for justice in every major campaign on both Draenor and since his arrival on Azeroth (excluding the War of Thorns).

Argonas is undeniably something of a zealot. Like-minded individuals may find his strong stance on the superiority of the Light a boon; others might find it irritating-- or even hostile!

Argonas will soon find reason to venture into the Shadowlands. But he can’t do it alone! He’ll need help to accomplish his ultimate goal in the realm beyond the veil of death...

Open to ideas, as well!

OOC Information:

I’ve been RPing in World of Warcraft since The Burning Crusade, and off-and-on in other media before that.

PvE fan! I love running M+ and getting into whatever raids I can. Work schedule doesn’t allow for a steady raid team, though. All the same, hit me up if you need a tank Alliance-side, or DPS either faction!

Looking for long-term story arcs / relationships (friends, romance, family, whatever!) I love writing stories!

Cross-Faction is fine with me! Enjoy RPing in game as much as writing in forums/GoogleDocs/Discord!

Contact Information  ––––

Reach out to me here on tumblr if interested, or send Argonas in-game mail! If you’re just looking for a taste, feel free to drop a starter ask in the ol’ inbox, too! Follow backs come from @thefugitivemango​

[miernethepersevering]

Awakening

((Story takes place shortly before the events of The Eternal Palace raid. Co-written with Khanaros’ player, @thefugitivemango​ . @avehi-the-adamant​ / @argonas​ for character mention ))

~*~*~

Mierne’s head was flooded with nightmares. Her mind was finally free, but still reeling from being under zoatroid control. She remained unconscious for weeks after being returned to the Exodar; the combination of Shamanism and soothing Light treatments kept her spirit intact and guided her gently to the waking world. 

She couldn’t recall how she’d ended up becoming a prisoner of the naga, nor much of anything soon before that. There was no way of telling where her memories ended and where the mind scrambling began. The shadow tendrils on her mind ran deep, and would take months to heal. 

The Shaman stirred in her sleep, rolling over to her side and reaching a hand out. She found another there to take hold of and squeeze. Her features relaxed. The hand felt familiar, and she opened her eyes to look upon a sight she didn’t expect. A Lightforged Draenei sat at her bedside. He was unfamiliar at first glance, but, as her sleepy eyes came into focus, theface became one she knew. The Lightforging has changed the Vindicator’s appearance; he looked younger, his eyes were gold and his beard was longer, but there was no mistaking her oldest and closest friend.

“Kh-Khana...ros?” She starred, clearly confused.

The Lightforged’s eyes shot open in an instant. He sat up, seeming to have begun to doze off in the chair at Mierne’s bedside. His hand squeezed, a smile gracing his lips for what felt like the first time in weeks.

“--Mierne, thank the Light!” Khanaros exclaimed. “Easy, now. You have been sleeping for a while.”

His other hand reached for a large vessel, almost resembling a vase. He brought it gently to Mierne, bidding her to take it for herself.

“Drink this.” he implored her, tone neither demanding nor pressing. “It will soothe your throat, and rehydrate you.”

The liquid within the vessel was water… and something else. A dissolved powder, perhaps? It had a fruity smell to it, appealing in its own right despite the odd coloration. There was no hesitation on Mierne’s behalf. Her movements were slow, but she reached for the concoction, lifting her head just enough to bring it to her lips and drink it in little sips. It was surprisingly sweet, but not so much as to be sickening. Her eyes closed briefly as she felt its rejuvenating effects. She had to force herself not to gulp it all down too fast. The Shaman hadn’t realized just how thirsty she was until that moment.

She paced herself, keeping silent as she slowly but surely took in all of the vessel’s contents. She couldn’t help but side eye Khanaros as she did, however; the change in him was drastic. How long had she been sleeping? When had he Lightforged?! It suited him, certainly, but what a sudden change!

She cleared her throat, finally finding her voice again to ask one of the many questions running through her head.

“What… what happened?”

“Naga took you.” he replied, plainly and honestly. “Just before the seas opened up, and swallowed the Alliance and Horde fleets. Vindicator Argonas and Vindicator Avehi were sent down, and rescued you.”

Khanaros reached to take the vessel from Mierne when she had finished it, instead replacing it with a nutrient loaf - a small brown bread-like substance, unwrapped and ready for Mierne to eat at her own pace. It smelled… bland. Far less appealing than the liquid, but every bit as fortifying. 

“You are safe now… recovering well, physically,” he reported, smile clearly forced. “But… there can be no telling yet the extent of the psychological damage done to you. The Naga used some void creature known as a zoatroid to wrack your mind and alter your thoughts and behaviors. They… enslaved you, Mierne.”

The words almost seemed to hurt him as he spoke them, a hand reaching out to rest atop Mierne’s leg. Worry crossed his wrinkled face; worry and fear. He was eternally grateful Mierne was safe… but he knew this was only the beginning of her recovery.

Mierne nibbled on the bread given to her as she listened intently to Khanaros’ words. She frowned as she came to realize that not everything she’d dreamed about had been fabrication. She swallowed down a bite.

“I… vaguely remember some of it…” she admitted, “I thought it was a nightmare.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. The thought of things she’d might have done under zoatroid control made her lose her appetite. She put the rest of the loaf down on the side table, before bringing a hand to her head. Trying to recollect things gave her a migraine. 

“Let us… let us speak of other things,” she requested, her eyes meeting his golden gaze once more, “I wasn’t aware that you had Lightforged. When did this happen?”

“--Hm? Ah… it was after our discussion at the Darkshore,” he replied, tone hiding well his concerns now - for her sake, he felt it best. “You don’t recall? It is fine if you do not… after all you have endured, it is easily excusable.”

Khanaros smiled, and gave Mierne’s leg another supportive, comforting squeeze. There was no question this was difficult for him. To see his beloved Mierne so scattered? To hear that she didn’t remember things? But for a hard as it was for him, he couldn’t begin to comprehend how hard it must’ve been for her. He did his best to keep that in mind.

“What do you recall? From before Nazjatar?” he asked. “We can start there, and I will do my best to fill in the rest. And separate truth from fiction. Alright?”

“Honestly? I am uncertain. I remember coming to visit you, as usual, after the Legion was defeated. I remember Argonas moving to the isle… Avehi coming to visit me… I -do- remember being in Darkshore, but as for why…”

She shook her head, “Naga and murloc populations increased on the isle… Are we at War again? Or was that a nightmare? And Teldrassil burning?”

She shrugged, but then could help but chuckle, “Fairly certain you and I getting engaged did not actually happen.” She laughed, “I mean… can you imagine?! That would be crazy!”

“Sadly, the war-related memories are all true. We--”

It struck him like a blade, as the words crossed Mierne’s lips. The laugh didn’t help, either. He suspected a while back she wasn’t fully on board with the engagement, but those concerns were softened when they made plans further to move in together. But… that, too, was probably not something she was interested in. Something else ‘crazy’, like getting engaged. His shoulders sank, though his smile remained - forced, of course.

“Heh, quite crazy!” he nodded along. “We haven’t made such plans, no.”

The lie tasted bitter in Khanaros’ mouth, however. Would it be better to tell her the truth? No, it was better for her to get her bearings, and recall her life as she wished it to be. Normal for Mierne didn’t include forecasting their nuptials, it seemed.

Mierne was visibly relieved. It wasn’t that she didn’t  have feelings towards her dearest and oldest friend. But marriage? Their lives were much too incompatible for things to go any further than their usual casual intimate encounters.

“--The war, though… it rages. Teldrassil did, in fact, burn by the Warchief’s order.” he frowned, now that the topic changed appropriately to do so. “This is why we went to Darkshore.”

It began to make sense to Mierne; why she had been in Darkshore. The enemy had been too close for comfort. She had to do what she could to protect the Exodar and the Isles!

“That explains the Lightforging, then,” she brought a hand up, fingers brushing his beard as she admired his changed features. “You look good. Really good,” she couldn’t help but smile, “This path suits you.”

The affections, of course, made Khanaros happy. But undertones behind it did little to stave off the great sense of loss he was feeling. This was more than just a setback in her memory… it was a setback in their relationship, as well. It hurt him deeply, in a way he couldn’t express.

He couldn’t let that show, of course. Instead, he plastered on a smiling expression, and nodded. 

“I’m pleased you still think so. We discussed it, before I underwent the trials. I worried you would not find me nearly as pleasing to the eye, so grossly incandescent.”

He let out a chuckle - a convincing one, considering. 

“But… yes, with the war continuing on as it has been, I felt Lightforging would be an appropriate means of coming out of retirement.”

“Indeed!” She chuckled, finally removing her hand to reach for the food she hadn’t yet finished. 

She was already looking stronger; her eyes more luminous and colour returning to her cheeks. Markings were left along the side of her face where the zoatroid had clung and been ripped off. The wounds would most likely leave scars, but, for now, Mierne seemed oblivious to them. Just as well. It was doubtful she would care. The hermit had never been one to fuss over her appearance. 

“And here I am keeping you from your duties… I hope I didn’t take too much of your time off the field.”

"Not at all. I am mostly a strategist these days, helping direct forces rather than fight on the front, directly." 

He shook his head, giving Mierne's leg one final squeeze before pulling his hand back. He stood.

"I would not burden you with details." He left it at that, planting a light kiss on her scarred cheek. "For now, rest. Recover. I will come by again later to see how you are feeling, yes?"

It grew too much for him - not just seeing her like this, but learning how much of her memory she had lost. Khanaros worried deeply for Mierne, of course. But he also worried about what this manner of regression could mean for their relationship. Suddenly, they weren’t engaged anymore. Suddenly, they weren’t living together anymore!

“Recover well, Mierne.” was all he could muster to say.