#Cebina Ruavin

[kidcatgeminiart]

Portrait - Cebina Before/After

Some of my characters have undergone some changes over the past few expansions. My Ren'dorei priest, Cebina Ruavin, being one of them. Being as vain a character as she is, the physical change to her appearance was quite an adjustment, but she's learned to embrace her now more powerful void-touched form.

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Drawn with CSP  

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[cebinaruavin]

Cebina Ruavin

Race: Ren’dorei 

Age: 120 years

Sexuality: Heterosexual / Aromantic

Profession: High End Escort and Relic Hunter

Addictions: Void and money

Marital Status: Single

Cunning, self serving and patient, Cebina is only interested in power and money. Using her body as a means to get close to people, she will lie, use, and kill, without hesitation or regret, in order to get what she wants.

Current Situation: Enjoying mingling with the Venthyr in the high courts of Revendreth, finding leverage where she can while acquiring whatever items of interest she can find.

FC:  Margot Robbie

[cebinaruavin]

“Oh BeyBey,” Cebina mused, turning to admire her reflection in the bathroom mirror, “I’ll be hands off, I promise. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Really, I’ve seen much bigger,“ she looked over and eyed him over playfully, “And much smaller. You’re looking pretty average, so don’t you worry, Sweetie.”

🚿 Cebina walks in on Bey

“What in the--”

A stern scowl crossed Bey’ron’s face, as he brought his washcloth down to his waist to conceal himself! Thankfully, copious volumes of steam helped better obscure him from these uninvited prying eyes!

“Did you forget to give a the key back when I kicked you out, Little Bird? No, knowing you, you kept it intentionally!” he scoffed. “A little privacy, if you please! This is my home! Not one of your brothels!”

Thanks for the prompt, @syrielle! Naughty naughty, @cebinaruavin! 

[lordbeyron]

Fly Free, Little Bird

Three Months Ago…

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The fireplace roared for a brief, incendiary moment at the snap of Bey’ron’s fingers, before it settled into a playful, stable dance. The Magister grinned, setting aside his walking staff as he settled into his comfortable chaise lounge - a glass of wine in hand. In lieu of his typical Magistry attire, he was adorned in a set of silky satin pajamas, complete with fuzzy slippers and a loose-fitting bathrobe. He settled in further, letting himself sink into the excessively soft divan, as he conjured a small portal to retrieve an old, time-weathered tome from beyond. A sip of his wine passed his lips, earning a hum of contentment, before he set his glass aside, and began to read where he’d left off. It didn’t get more comfortable than this for Lord Everblaze.

The past week had been… surprising for him to say the least. His impromptu date with Knight-Lord Dawnblade - essentially a dare, a bluff she’d called him out on - went far better than he ever could have anticipated. It had earned him a proverbial foot in the door of the prestigious and kingdom-revered Phoenix Guard; useful allies to have, to say the least. Sure, she had demands and conditions… chief among them, contributing to their causes and assisting them on missions. Like the book in his hands, Bey’ron’s field experience wasn’t what it used to be. In fact, the last time he’d thrown any manner of offensive spell in the name of Quel’Thalas was during the Sunreaver Onslaught, and their delving into the Throne of Thunder. While that’s not to say he hadn’t thrown an offensive spell since then for his own interests… he’d certainly need to brush up again, if he was to hold his own during such high-caliber sorties to which the Phoenix Guard was accustomed. His hand reached down to his leg, a grimace ghosting across his face as it did - a grim reminder of how rusty he’d become in combat. That would have to change.

His ear flickered, eyes narrowing as he glanced to the doorway. Something… was amiss. He sensed the presence of an energy; familiar, and yet much darker and more pronounced than usual. He closed his book, and sent it back into the portal from whence it came, as he bid his staff to return to his hand.

“... Little Bird?” he called out, eyes peering into the dark corridor. “Back with a morsel of information or two, I trust?”

The shadows in the hallway shifted, and the familiar silhouette of the Priestess formed. She was difficult to see in the obscurity, and was in her shadow form on top of that, making it impossible to discern fine details. The voice, however, was definitely Cebina’s.

“Oh, MUCH more than a morsel, Sweetie,” she grinned, “There was a unexpected turn of events in my research. Not a bad one, mind you. I’ve tapped into a power source beyond any other.”

She stepped into the room, and the shadows seemed to stretch, clinging to her form. Blue eyes watched.

“You can feel it, can’t you?”

Bey’ron’s eyes widened, flaring with both surprise and excitement as they fell upon Cebina, and her newfound form. He recognized her, and yet it took him a moment to register the changes. The eyes, the hair, the skin tone… not to mention the immense gravity of power that so clearly coursed through her, now.

Dark energy.

Of course, Bey’ron was familiar with that school of power. Shadows, the Void… potent and volatile on levels equal to - if not much moreso - than his own. His was a theoretical knowledge of such power, gleaned from books and papers on the subject. Cebina was well-versed in the practical applications when Bey’ron first met her. Part of his decision to work with her stemmed from that caliber of understanding she possessed. The understanding he lacked. He’d developed a sense for her power; something of a magical signature. Like a pungent power perfume, a subtle scent unique to her and her alone. And now, it was as if she’d doused herself in the entire bottle.

“My, my…” he said, tone conveying how impressed he was. “Indeed I can, Little Bird.”

He rose from his seat with the assistance of his staff, and walked around to look her over. His was different from usual looks men would give her - studious, inquisitive, rather than lustful or indulgent. He grinned.

“How did this happen?” he asked, plainly and curiously. “This is no small leap in potential, my dear. It’s… incredible. What did you do?”

Cebina’s ears perked up fully on her head, pleased to have impressed the Magister. Compliments from him meant more from him somehow, most likely because they’re relationship was strictly work related. Bey’ron never used her for carnal pleasure, which had been strange to her at first. He wasn’t driven by lust, like most men she had worked with in the past. She couldn’t use her body to manipulate him… not from lack of trying of course; flirting was second nature to her… But it impressed her. And she knew that when he spoke, he wasn’t just saying empty words to try and get her out of her clothes.

She dispelled her shadow form to allow him to inspect the changes more closely.

“I followed a lead in my research and made contact with a group working alongside another Magister. Umbric… I’m sure you’ve heard. The project had… unexpected results, though I can’t really complain. The power that flows through me now, Bey-Bey, I’ve never felt this good before!”

Her eyes flared, proud of what she’d accomplished. She brought a hand up to brush her long purple hair over her shoulder as she made her way over to one of the chairs. She let out a happy sigh as she sat down.

“Mmm, good to be back though! —Oh! I’m going to have to lay low for a bit because of this. This transformation is a wee bit frowned upon. You understand. Right, Sweetie?”She waved a hand dismissively, “It’ll blow over soon, I’m sure.”

“--Magister… Umbric.”

Bey’ron repeated the name, tone coating the words in his disdain. He knew him all too well - and clearly wasn’t a fan. Word of his research into the Void spread through the Magistry quickly. ‘Volatile and dangerous’ were the words most commonly associated with his work. And despite warnings from the Council to discontinue his obsession with the Void… he didn’t. Now, not only to the Magistry, but to all of Quel’Thalas as a whole, Magister Umbric and his followers were branded as traitors.

And one such traitor now settled into one of his chairs.

Bey’ron smiled at Cebina, letting out a light chuckle before taking a swig of his wine. He set his glass aside on an end table, as he walked around the chair she’d sat in. He regarded her, looking her over with an appraising eye. She certainly had been of great use to him. She was influential, informative, and sharp - keen on finding out people’s useful secrets. But what use could she be now? Even associating with one of Umbric’s followers meant career suicide among the Magistry now. She seemed to be under the impression she could bounce back from something like this. That she and others like her would be welcome in Silvermoon after a while. But he knew better. Especially following the incident with Alleria Windrunner at the Sunwell, there was no room for the Void in Quel’Thalas anymore. He sighed as he thought this over, still looking Cebina over curiously.

A pity.

“Mmhm… I understand, Little Bird.” he said, nodding. “Though… I feel you may not, fully, yourself.”

He flicked his hand, waving his Arcane will to illuminate the room further - sconces caught ablaze, burning brightly. The fireplace, too, flared up. Like the end of a play, the room was illuminated… signaling time to leave.

“Your services are no longer required, Little Bird.” he said, bluntly. “I’m afraid it’s time for you to go.”

Cebina raised an eyebrow as the room was illuminated. Bey’ron always did have a flare for the dramatic. His words, however, were met by a long silence. She continued to sit in the chair, gaze set on some unknown point ahead of her as she contemplated what he said. Finally, she shook her head, bringing a hand up in front of her mouth as she let out a chuckle.

“Oh, Sweetie!” She said, getting up from the chair and strolling over to pour herself a glass of wine, “That’s cute.”

She swirled the liquid in her glass, before bringing it to her lips to take a sip. The expression on her face was amused as she turned to face him. Apparently, she thought he was kidding; either that or she was in disbelief of what he just said.

“Don’t be dumb, Bey-Bey. You’re a Fel user. You know how it is. Just let me hide out here for a bit. No one even knows I’m associated with you in the first place. At least until this either all blows over or I figure out where to go.”

“I’ve already figured out where you should go.” Bey’ron replied. “Anywhere but Quel’Thalas. You don’t understand it, do you? Magister Umbric and his followers - you - are branded as traitors. The Void magic to which your bodies give host is detrimental to the Sunwell. You’re dangerous. Volatile.”

He stepped up to Cebina, and tugged the glass of wine from her hand. He set it aside, eyeing her down with the sternest of expressions. It was clear; he wasn’t kidding around.

“If your magic wasn’t so damning, the politics of it all certainly are. I can’t risk associating with one of Umbric’s apostles; it’ll tarnish my good name.” he sighed, and shook his head. “You know how that is, I’m certain.”

“Ugh. Don’t be so dramatic. I am not vola—“ she frowned as he snatched the wine glass out of her hand.

She sighed, bringing a hand up to rest on her hip, giving the Magister the most unimpressed of looks. It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at the words ‘my good name’. She knew Bey’ron wasn’t an innocent man. She wasn’t stupid, and she’d lived at his estate and provided enough intel for him to know as much. However, he was smart as well, and there was nothing she could prove. Even if she could, as he said, she was branded a traitor.

Foolish. Still… she knew that look. There would be no changing his mind.

“The Void is no more volatile than the Fel you utilize. If used and controlled properly, it’s a powerful tool at our disposal.”

She huffed, marching passed him to leave the room and make her way towards the stairs.

“But fine! Have it your way! Just give me a few days for me to get my things collected.”

“Mm, you’re not wrong, Little Bird.” Bey’ron admitted, as he stepped out of her way. “It could be a powerful tool. And if the poisonous stigma of you and your so-called ‘ren’dorei’ ever clears up, you will most certainly be welcomed back.”

He flicked his wrist once more, causing the heavy drapes that divided the room from the hall to close in front of Cebina - he wasn’t done talking just yet.

“Your request, though; take what you can carry. Once you depart my estate, you won’t be coming back.” he said, rather coldly. “And I want you to depart tonight.”

His glass of wine floated over into his hand, before he took a drink - eyeing Cebina with raised brow.

“You may send for things you can’t carry later. A token of our friendship, hm?”

“Tonight?!” Cebina whined as she spun around to face him, “Come on, Bey-Bey, I just got back!”

What an unfair request! It gave the Priestess no more than a few hours to sort through the items she’d managed to amass and decide what to bring and what to leave behind. As for what she could carry, Cebina clearly wasn’t built for any form of weight lifting. Of course she always got other people… men in particular… to carry her things around for her. She knew there wasn’t much she’d be able to take on her own.

She opened her mouth to argue further, but then promptly shut it. There was nothing she could use against the Magister in her position, no leverage or blackmail of any kind. Anything she’d try to bring up would be no more than her word against his. And arguing further would only worsen her situation.

He was allowing someone to go collect her belongings at a later time, at least. He seemed sincere… the shadows around them flickered as she contemplated her situation. She was clearly frustrated. Though it was hard to tell if she was more frustrated at him or herself; herself for placing herself in this vulnerable position.

“...I have your word on that?” She finally conceded. She really didn’t feel like facing the guards…

Bey'ron grinned behind his glass. It was a phrase he rather enjoyed hearing, because it usually came at the close of a favorable negotiation. His word, of course, carried no small weight in Silvermoon. The key to that was to know limitations, and never make promises you're not sure you can keep - or don't intend to.

He looked Cebina over once more, facade faltering to betray a hint of lust; an act, of course. But he knew she fed off of the attention. A desiring glance her way was a subtle token to keep her on the line; it made her feel wanted, which wasn't untrue in this case. Bey’ron felt it was a shame to send her away - he could actually tolerate Cebina’s company better than most. Dare say… he even liked her to a degree. And if the time ever came when ren’dorei were accepted back, however improbable, he didn't want to lose that connection. And if a lusty look and promise to let someone come clear her clutter from his manor was all it took to make this an amicable parting of ways, he could live with that.

“Of course, my Little Bird.” he said, sincerely. “Have I ever broken your faith in me?”

He waved his hand, drawing Cebina’s glass from the counter by unseen force and floated it over to her.

“A parting drink, to seal the promise, hm?”

A favorable negotiation, indeed.

Cebina raised an eyebrow. His words alone were enough, however the lustful gaze he gave her felt more than out of place. She was no fool. Bey’ron had shown no interest of the sort during all their interactions together. She’d caught his gaze on her before, but it had always been an appraising sort of lookover. In fact, she’d put the moves on him a number of times in the early weeks of working together, and was turned down every time. The Magister was one of the few men she’d encountered that appeared completely immune to her charm. It was part of what made him so interesting.

The fact that he was looking at her like that now was completely out of place. She easily read through his tactic of trying to appease her for kicking her out. He wanted to keep on good terms.

She accepted the glass from him, her soft fingers closing around the bowl. The Priestess considered calling him out on the fake act as she swirled the wine in her glass, head tilting slightly as she observed him. Instead, she decided to act on his bluff, wanting to see if he had the guts to carry through on where a gaze like that would lead him.

“Why, Bey-Bey…” she said sensually, strolling up to him, hips swaying, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at me that way before.”

She took a sip of the wine before closing the distance between them and pressing her body to his, “You like the physical changes that much?”

Immediately, Bey’ron put a hand out. He pressed it against Cebina’s shoulder, to keep her - literally - at arm’s length.

“--Mind yourself, Little Bird.” he said, a warning ring in his tone. “You’re liable to get burned, this close to the flame.”

He stepped away from her, once more concealing his smirk behind his glass. She’d called him on his glance; he expected she might. She always was far too clever. It was one of the things he liked about her, a reason he found in keeping her around. And if she was clever enough to call him out on it, he knew she was clever enough to figure out why he’d bother such tactics at all. ‘So be it’ he thought to himself.

“Besides, it’s hard to admire a piece like you so close up.” he added, sarcasm less-than subtle. “Nonetheless, a toast to you; wherever you go, may you continue your good work. Such talents would be a terrible thing to waste.”

He raised his glass, holding it out to hers for a ‘clink’ - his eyes gazing steadily into hers.

Cebina grinned as he kept her off him, politely declining her advances in his typical manner. She’d expected as much, and it confirmed her suspicions. They were on the same page, which was good.

She raised her glass to meet his, her blue orbs holding his gaze.

“May politics allow us to work together again someday,” she added, “Until then, mind the shadows.”

She tipped her head back, drinking down the whole thing before handing the empty glass back to him.

“Goodbye, Sweetie.”

“Shorel’aran.” Bey’ron replied, after taking a swig of his drink. “And fortune favor you.”

Another waft of his hand, and the thick drapes parted once more. He took Cebina’s glass, and set it aside, as he turned from her to return to his lounge. Once more, the firelight dimmed in the fireplace. The sconces flickered out one by one, as Bey’ron settled in with his book once more; another chapter coming to its close.

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((A scene co-written with @kidcatgemini between Bey’ron and her sexy Ren’dorei seductress, @omgcebina. Also @inathia and @phoenixguard for mentions ))

[renwyck]

"closet"

5. Just sitting there

‘Fool me once,’ the watcher thought to himself as the lovely blonde elf followed him into the closet. Renwyck clasped his hands together, resting them atop his lap.

“So,” he finally spoke after about two minutes. No more elaboration. Just the single word.

“So,” the woman replied. She paused a moment before adding, “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Nope,” Renwyck replied, still unable to get the thought of Gentil’s damnably soft lips out of his mind.

The following five minutes were spent in an awkward silence.

( omgcebina )

[kidcatgeminiart]

Continuing some sketch art of my OCs. Working down my character list. Keeping it simple and quick. Here’s another one of my Alliance RP characters, Cebina Ruavin ( @cebinaruavin ), Void Elf Priestess.

Drawn and colored with Rebelle 3, Photoshop CS6 and Wacom Cintiq tablet.

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Ko-fi | DeviantArt | 

[cebinaruavin]

Truce

((Story co-written with @thefugitivemango / @lordbeyron. @pariker / @inathia​ / @phoenixguard​ for mention.))

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Cebina waited in the foyer as Bey’ron finished his bath. She took her time to stroll around the room, picking out her favorite wine and helping herself to a glass. She sat herself down comfortably in one of the large lounge chairs, sitting back and crossing her legs. 

She’d always enjoyed her time spent in the manor, as short as that time was. Bey’ron had good taste in lavish decor, always ready to entertain guests. She sometimes wondered if he expected Lor’themar himself to show up at his doorstep. Even the room he’d given her to stay in had been one of the fanciest she’d ever had. A shame that didn’t last. They’d worked well together, the two of them, before her switch to the void and exile.

Water under the bridge now, as it were. The war between Alliance and Horde was over now. While Cebina’s presence still wasn’t welcomed in Quel’Thalas, travelling there was no longer as big of a risk; as long as she suppressed her Void powers and kept out of sight, of course.

She swirled the wine in her glass and sniffed the bouquet before taking a sip. Yes. She’d certainly missed this.

Her presence wasn’t lost on Bey’ron; nothing happened in his manor that he didn’t know about. Eyes everywhere… but he figured Cebina knew that as well. He cut his bath short as he sensed her presence once more in his house. While he didn’t feel in danger of anything she might do, his trust in her certainly took a dive following her last big revelation. He dried and dressed himself casually, paced calmly as he always did, before stepping into the room.

“Pour one for me too, hmm?” he instructed, nonchalantly.

Cebina smiled from her spot on the chair moving her hair over her shoulder to show off more of her chest. A natural reaction for her, even though she knew it had no effect on Bey’ron. She pointed towards the counter, where a second full glass of wine sat waiting for him.

“Way ahead of you, Sweetie,” she hummed, “How have you been, Bey Bey?”

“Mm… considering my home’s been invaded,” he narrowed his eyes at Cebina, “not terrible.”

He scooped his glass from the counter, swirling it gently as he approached the Ren’dorei intruder, uncertain at what brought her here. To gloat more, perhaps? He didn’t think she would have come here to kill him… but then the void did alter one’s mind, didn’t it? How far had her dark studies taken her…?

“Why are you here, Cebina?” he asked, bluntly, tone indicative he wasn’t interested in going through the usual foreplay. “Haven’t you caused me enough of a headache already?”

Cebina raised a brow as he skipped over the pleasantries. That wasn’t like him at all! Had the Knight Lord’s absence affected him that much? Had he actually cared about her? 

“Oh, Bey Bey, you know me. I only specialize in making people feel -good-. You won’t find any trouble coming from me. Unless... that’s what you’re looking for.”

She tipped her head back, taking a long sip of the wine from her glass.

“But, if you insist on getting straight to business, so be it. As you know, the war between Alliance and Horde has come to an end. While I’m aware my people are still shunned for our superiority, at least my presence here is no longer considered an act of war. With the armistice signed between the Alliance and Horde, I was hoping you and I could work out something similar. Past mishaps now water under the bridge, as it were, hmm?”

She took another sip, allowing Bey’ron some time to digest the information.

Bey’ron rolled his eyes. It felt good not to have to try and hide the expression, as he normally had to do in the Council chambers when some pompous nobleman spouted similar nonsense. “Superiority,” indeed. He scoffed, accenting the eye rolling to better convey how unimpressed he was by Cebina’s notion.

“You want back in, is that it? Tired of the humans already?” he smirked, throwing a light jab of his own. “If your kind are so superior, surely you wouldn’t feel a need to reestablish any manner of connections here. Armistice or not.”

He knew well why she’d returned now, of all times. The Armistice might have been a part of it, but Bey’ron had long suspected that Cebina had ties to the Twilight’s Hammer cult. A cult without any more Gods to cling to, as of late. No, he knew Cebina was only here playing nice because she’d lost a large chunk of support. A loss she hoped to make up for here.

“You’re after the arrangement I offered when I first dismissed you and your ‘superiority’, Cebina. And instead of keeping things pleasant between us, you opted instead to lash out.” he scolded her, still swirling his glass of wine. “What changed? Why are you suddenly so interested in rekindling our friendship, hmm?”

Cebina giggled, waving a hand in a dismissal of his words.

“Sweetie, please! Did you go soft while I was away? We were never friends, and you know it. Work partners, yes. Allies, yes. But don’t go pretending it was anything more than that.”

Her void filled gaze met his as she leaned forward in her chair.

“You know as well as I do that knowledge is power. And even the more superior of us need allies, especially in times of peace. Don’t you agree?”

His ear flickered; she was right. They were never really friends… so why did he phrase it in such a manner? Had loneliness tugged him off course of his goals? Had losing Ina’thia made him soft? His frown turned to a scowl at Cebina. Seeing her again had brought out many reminders of the past… including his dedication to his ambitions.

“Hmph. You’re splitting hairs. ‘Friendship’, as a generalized term of working well one with another. As in… not sabotaging one another’s projects.” Bey’ron snapped, fel flames in his eyes burning a little more intensely. “You’re reaching out for a hand you bit, Cebina. And you bit it hard. I had plans for the Phoenix Guard, and you crippled it. Killed it! Did you think I’d be so quick to forgive your childish maneuvers? Perhaps I have been too soft, letting a treacherous Old God underling like you breathe another breath of my Eversong air!”

He tossed his undrunk glass aside, letting it shatter in the corner. Portals began to open up all around the two elves, pouring chittering laughter and aggressive growls into the chamber from whatever dark dimensions lay beyond them. Demonic eyes peered in from the room, all fixated on Cebina. But nothing emerged… yet.

“Give me one good reason, Little Bird, why I should take you back.”

Cebina remained unfazed at Bey’ron’s show of force, her eyes glimmering with pride as they continued to burn into his. Her smile widened. 

“Because,” she stated simply, “You need someone to keep you on your toes.” She got up from the chair, letting her form fitting skirt brush the floor as she paced slowly.

“You’ve gone soft, Bey Bey. What I did was nothing compared to what your dear Knight Lord put you through, I’m sure. You let your guard down with her, didn’t you? Made yourself vulnerable. Now look at you, sulking in your manner and trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind. Look at who you’ve surrounded yourself with. All soft.”

She stopped pacing a few feet in front of him, knowing well not to get too close to the Magister.

“Face it, Sweetie. You need me a lot more than I need you right now. You know it. And that is why you’re throwing this little temper tantrum, isn’t it?”

Bey’ron’s scowl turned to a smirk. He chuckled at Cebina, folding his arms behind his back as he did. The portals held position, though the snarling from within softened… yet the chittering laughter grew a bit more as if to join their master.

“Oh, I need you, is that it? That’s why you came here, then? You sensed how much I needed you? So you snuck in, seeking to restore our amicable arrangement? How kind of you, Little Bird.” he laughed on, tone clearly mocking. “You may be right; I’ve relaxed quite a bit, following your little stunt, and Ina’thia’s departure. You’ve done well in reminding me of that, tonight. But frankly… I can think of no other use I’d have for you. You think too highly of yourself if you presume you’re the only one who can, as you put it, ‘keep me on my toes’, hmm?”

A worthy attempt, he had to admit. But his wit hadn’t dulled quite that much since last they spoke. Cebina wouldn’t have come here just to rekindle a relationship unless she had something specific to gain in doing so. She’d caught him in an emotional state-- which was to say, she caught him actually feeling emotions. But that alone wasn’t her purpose in coming to him now. It seemed they ended up dancing around the heart of the matter, after all.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” he straightened, brow askew. “Why are you here, Cebina?”

“Hmm, much better,” Cebina grinned, “There’s the Bey-Bey I know! Don’t worry, I have no intentions of returning to Silvermoon or messing with whatever you’ve got going on with your little friends.”

She sauntered back to her chair, taking a sip and getting comfortable once more, pulling the skirt of her robes up to expose her thighs as she crossed her legs.

“I need a contact to keep me up to date on the going ons of Horde politics, as it were. In return, I’ll be certain to forward any information I come across from the  Alliance side. I’ve gotten quite close with some of the higher up politicians in Stormwind. In short, you have your goals and I have mine. As long as those goals don’t go against each other, there’s no reason we can’t go back to being respectful associates.”

“Mm, that depends entirely on what your goals actually are, doesn’t it?”

The Magister returned to the counter, and retrieved another glass since his last one broke. He didn’t bother glancing over to where he’d thrown it; it was already cleaned up anyway, the work of some Imp while no one was looking. He filled his new glass with wine, before turning back to his guest.

“It also depends on what manner of information you can provide. I’ve already arranged a few eyes and ears among your Alliance’s political players, and they’ve done well in feeding me useful little tidbits.” he explained as he, too, finally took a seat in a chair adjacent to Cebina’s. “I suppose you think you could do better, though? Provide me with more exclusive information?”

He grinned at the Ren’dorei.

“Let’s hear a sampling, hmm?”

“Oh, darling… you have NO idea.”

Cebina moved her hand, opening it palm up as a small void tear opened up just above it, depositing a scroll into her hand. She’d worked with Bey’ron long enough to know he wouldn’t take her at her word. He was MUCH smarter than that; one of the things she rather liked about him. Of course he would demand proof that she could procure information more valuable than his own men could gather. 

She held the parchment out for him to levitate over.

“I’ll let you read for yourself. Human men are simple creatures, and SO predictable, especially when it comes down to interacting with exotic women,” she grinned, tilting her head up proudly, not a hint of shame of how she used her body, “I think you’ll enjoy these little tidbits, especially certain secret outings the King has been making.”

The Magister couldn’t hide the intrigue on his face, as he read the scroll over. It was a mixed bag, certainly, with some bits of information much more useful and actionable than others. For now, anyway; Bey’ron learned long ago that sometimes the most innocuous details can bridge gaps in some of the darkest secrets. These outings of the Alliance’s Boy-King that Cebina alluded to, for example… they meant nothing for the moment. Just a piece of a puzzle Bey’ron could use later, when he found where it fit.

But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“... Hmph. I suppose these have some merit.” he commented; such words meager approval from some, but high praise when coming from his lips. “If I did, perhaps, have use for information you’re willing to bring, what exactly would you wish in return? Bearing in mind, I am not as prone to betraying my kingdom as--”

He paused, gaze tracing over Cebina in silent judgment. A less-than subtle jab. He allowed the parchment to roll up once more, curling by virtue of having been rolled up before. He held it upright as a small portal opened above it-- and a tiny pair of imp hands reached down to snatch it away absconding with the paper to Sun-only-knows where.

“... Others.” he concluded his thought, smirking.

“Of course, of course,” she waved a hand, not seeming the least bit insulted by what Bey’ron insinuated.

Cebina had always joined causes out of convenience. She’d joined a number of houses and organizations during their rise, only to move on to another as she sensed they were about to fall. Her entire life had been about taking what she needed to further her own goals. Now wasn’t any different. She knew it. Bey’ron knew it. There was no point in pretending she ever cared for Quel’Thalas.

“Ever the loyalist, I remember. I would never ask you to betray your kingdom, Bey-Bey. I have no interest in playing with Sin’dorei affairs. However, a man of your elite stature certainly has spies dispatched throughout the other factions of the Horde, hmm? All I’m asking in return is that you share that intelligence with me.”

Bey’ron contemplated for a moment, eyeing Cebina over scrutinously. He was torn; at what point did benefiting the Void Elf become endangering the High Kingdom? It was easy to work with her before, when their goals coincided often. But he couldn’t imagine an instance where they would, now. The value of even small details cut both ways. What could he tell her that wouldn’t potentially come back detrimentally to Quel’Thalas? The secrets she was willing to share were, indeed, valuable to him. But at such a cost…?

No, the payoff was far greater than just a few meaningless details shared between the two. A truce was at stake-- a partnership with Cebina made her an ally once more, rather than the spiteful enemy she’d proven to be otherwise. It was a dangerous gambit, indeed. But he knew it was more beneficial to bring her to heel with a few tasty morsels of information than to let her run wild and lash out. 

“Mm. So be it.” he nodded, with a smirk. “We’ve worked well together in the past. If you’re ready to do so again, it would be in poor form for me to deny you the pleasure.”

He raised his glass to Cebina; a toast to seal the deal, and rekindle their partnership. It felt like the right move; after all, you keep your friends close.

And your enemies closer.

~*~*~

[cebinaruavin]

Survivors

((Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @brent-sunborn . @pariker​ / @nepenthea and @kaiekasunwhisper​ for character mention.))

~*~*~

Shortly after the events of Ny’alotha...

Crash!

The shadows sloppily deposited Brent into his tent in what remained of the Coterie’s camp. The lack of grace wasn’t from wounds or exhaustion… his power was waning. He’d felt it immediately as N’Zoth was destroyed. Ripples had surged through the shadows, wracking everyone linked in any way to the Old God at the moment of his demise; and they hadn’t been the same ever since. Like a wheel spinning off its axis, Ren’dorei could feel the shadows losing stability, falling out of the balanced alignment they once boasted. He brought himself to his feet, and set back the items knocked over by his rough landing; a jeweled vase and golden scarab statuette, both of which he’d uncovered with Nepen’thea in their archaeological days. This tent had been one they shared… and he couldn’t bring himself to change anything about it.

His ear flickered, eyes narrowing as he glanced to the tent’s entrance. He wasn’t alone, it seemed. He drew a dagger - the metal feeling heavier in his hand somehow - as he silently stepped towards the tent flaps. He couldn’t feel anything as clearly through the shadows anymore, unable to tell if it was a friend or enemy he heard in one of the adjacent tents. 

He knew it wasn’t Kai’eka, at the very least. For one, it was much too quiet a noise to be her. For another… he’d watched her die in Ny’alotha. Even without the runes connecting them, the pain he’d felt shoot through his body was paralytic. Intense. Sorrowful. Thinking of it now caused his heart to well up in his throat. He swallowed it down, refocusing on the imminent danger. Was someone ransacking the Coterie camp? Or…

“... Ceb?” he called out in a whisper, hoping it was her.

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sharp senses, Sweetie,” the familiar melodious voice spoke up.

The shape of Cebina’s silhouette formed among the swirling shadows of the rift, before stepping out to meet Brent. She looked healthy and well. Clearly, she hadn’t been anywhere near the fighting in Ny’alotha… or perhaps she had and was just that good. It was hard to say which. It was rare to find the priestess on the front lines of any battle. Like Brent, she preferred to operate through deceit and choosing the perfect moment to strike. 

She could feel Brent drained through the shadow link they shared. They felt significantly weaker since she’d last seen him. It was understandable, given the events that had just transpired. Her own powers had weakened from N’Zoth’s destruction, but only slightly. The Priestess knew better than to draw all of her powers from a single source, and she’d been prepared for the eventual fall of the Old Gods. 

“You look terrible,” she said, walking past him and into the tent.

She sat on the bed, her robes opening up at her thighs as she crossed her legs. Her hand patted the spot next to her.

“Just the two of us left, then?” She asked, head tilting, “Haven’t been able to sense much of anything without the runes.”

The Ghostblade slipped his dagger away, as he exhaled a sigh of relief into his mask. He’d had enough fighting… and enough losing friends… for one day. He tugged his mask down, as he took Cebina’s invitation to sit down beside her on the bed.

“Kai’s dead.” he said, bluntly - though his tone conveyed well his sorrow at that fact.

He looked around the room, shoulders slumped and ears drooping. He’d known this was a possibility - a part of him had even hoped for it. But that didn’t take the sting out of this defeat. He’d failed Nepen’thea. And now, he’d failed Kai’eka. The loss took its toll on Brent, whether he cared for it or not.

“What’ll you do now?” he asked Cebina, eyes finally flickering over to her. “There’s nothing left worth rebuilding. The Twilights are done. You have a plan from here on out?”

Cebina remained quiet and attentive until that moment, keeping her hands respectively to herself. She’d noted that Brent hadn’t sought her out since Nepen’thia’s demise, so she left any physical initiative completely up to him. As expected, the ex-Blackened Blade didn’t take loss very well.

She leaned back a bit, as he asked the question, eyes staring at some unknown point as she thought it over. 

“Well, I still have my little business in Stormwind. That’s going well, so I’ll keep working at that for now. Might make the occasional visit to Silvermoon to play around with an old friend. Nothing much to do now except wait for the next opportunity, hmm?”

She wasn’t speaking of the cult, of course. The Old Gods had been a transitory thing for her. N’Zoth’s army had been good while it lasted, but their fall was inevitable. Even without them, there was still power and knowledge to be found.

“What about you?” she asked, turning her attention back to Brent.

“I…”

He trailed off, going silent. He stared for a moment at nothing, before looking back to Cebina. His gaze was telling; lost, uncertain… scared. 

“... I don’t know.”

His ear flickered. He’d expected it to feel all the worse to say aloud, but somehow he felt… liberated? A weight lifted from him. He didn’t know what to do now, for the first time in years. It was something he’d dreaded for a while, but now it felt… freeing. He didn’t know what to do because nothing was required of him, now. No one had any demands of him. No cosmic force held him in any expectations. 

He laughed. Suddenly, surprising even to him.

“I don’t know!” he repeated, smiling.

He shrugged, continuing to chuckle lightly as he looked at Cebina. Ears perked, shoulders back… completely different than just moments before. The possibilities were endless for him! By the nature of how he worked, he wasn’t tied at all to the Twilight Cult. No implications that would cause him any trouble with the law. None he was aware about, anyway. He’d be honestly surprised if anyone could tie him to the Old Gods. Especially now. 

“I can do… whatever I want, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Cebina chimed in happily.

She shot him a smile as he finally understood. Brent had been a cultist for years, she’d seen it in his mind when he’d shared how important Nepen’thea had been to him. He’d loved her dearly… to the point where he’d put himself in a prison; two prisons. He was a slave to the cult all the while imprisoned by his love for Thea. Cebina hadn’t bothered to bring it up, knowing he would have never seen it her way; rose tinted glasses.

“Freedom,” she continued, “It’s a powerful feeling, isn’t it? Not having anyone to answer to. No one to hold you back from discovering who you were meant to be.”

“Yeah. It’s… it’s daunting, but…” he nodded. “I’m… excited about it. Is that weird?”

He chuckled again, as he thought more about it. What did he want to do? What should he choose as the next chapter of his life? He had some ideas… but none stood out among the others too strongly. But he liked it! It was a new sensation, such an uncertainty! It fed into his newly-discovered agency to decide for himself! For once, there was no wrong answer!

“I… I want to get back into archaeology.” he declared - of that, he was certain. “But first, I think I want to… interact with people. Somehow.”

He nodded again, firmly. This work had isolated him from all but a few people. And now, with the majority of those people gone from his life, he felt he’d need more. It’d been so long since he made a new connection. That Kal’dorei Death Knight was… possibly one. Before, Cebina was the only other. His eyes flickered to her, as he reached out his hand to take hold of hers. 

“I… want to interact with you more, too,” he told her, firmly, “This shouldn’t be the end of our friendship… right?”

Cebina giggled, laying back on the bed as she looked up at Brent.

“Of course not, silly! There’s no reason for the two of us to stop hanging out because of the cult’s fall. Our friendship goes beyond the will of some Old God, hm?”

Her shadows brushed gently against his, not in an attempt to entice him, but more for him to feel she was telling the truth. There was nothing to hide on the subject. Unless Brent specifically put himself in her way or attempted to hinder her work, there was no reason to terminate the relationship they’d cultivated up until now.

“You won’t be dragging me to any of those digs, though. The desert is TERRIBLE on my hair,” she smirked, “I’m much more comfortable in the city, getting spoiled while I gather up dirt and blackmail on all of  these foolish nobles.”

Brent smiled at that, and nodded. He felt Cebina’s sincerity, even without the shadowy affirmation. It was nice to be around her again; the latter parts of the Old One’s plans had kept him busy. Too busy to visit her casually. He’d see her in passing and give her a nod on occasion, but otherwise... At least, that’s what he told himself. The real reason was much more complicated. Nepen’thea’s death took more than just his professional drive. And while his libido had briefly sparked back with Kai’eka… her demise snuffed it back out. For… the most part.

But Cebina had an unmistakable allure. He felt it even now, just sitting beside her. In part, that’s why he kept himself too busy to seek her out, knowing she’d happily indulge him in a little release. Of course, he knew she got more than just sexual satisfaction out of their encounters, too. The allure, he suspected, was an accessory to her abilities. The bright lantern to draw in her prey… She was good at what she did, of that there was no doubt.

“The city suits you well.” he nodded. “I… won’t stray far at first. So if you need anything I can help you with, you need only ask.”

He brushed her back with his shadows-- or what remained of them, at least. While his sincerity was conveyed just as hers was, he couldn’t hide how broken, weak, and unfocused his shadows had become. He’d invested far too much in N’Zoth… and now he was paying the price.

Cebina took note of his weakened shadows. She would never show it, but she was glad for it. While their shadow connection had its uses, the priestess hated the idea that anyone was able to track her or read her. She kept her mind especially guarded, and having to tiptoe around the rogue as to not give away some of her true feelings and intentions was especially annoying. It had been one of the main reasons she’d kept her distance after Nepen’thea’s death. Had his shadows sought hers at all, any slight slip up would bring her whole ruse coming down. The idea of being able the sever that link once and for all was enticing; having her mind completely back to herself, free of visitors. Brent wouldn’t suspect a thing, assuming the link was lost due to N’Zoth’s fall.

“Well,” she said, sitting up to scoot over a bit closer to him, “You know I’m never opposed to pretty jewelry and trinkets.”

She brought a hand to rest on his lap. Giving him a playful smile.

“You have good taste. If you find anything you’d think I’d like, I’d be more than happy to take it off your hands.”

“Of course, happy to.” Brent nodded, placing his hand over top of Cebina’s. “And I hope you don’t mind if I drop in on occasion to visit. For healing, perhaps? And… maybe other reasons?”

This bout of familiarity was something the rogue needed, now. With so much up in the air, finding things he knew well helped keep him grounded. Feelings. People. Cebina. His hand clenched gently about hers in a light squeeze, as he leaned into the Priestess. She wouldn’t need to read any shadows to guess what he was thinking and feeling, now.

Cebina smiled, ears perking up at Brent’s suggestion. She leaned in with him, bringing her hand over to cup his cheek as their lips met. She pressed in, tongue dancing with his as her shadows swirled in delight. 

“Mmm… it’s been too long, Sweetie. I hope you’re ready for the ride,” she moaned against his lips.

[cebinaruavin]

(( Cebina meet’s @luminashdawnwing ‘s Lithendras. The two are getting along exceptionally well XD Already plotting together! ))

[cebinaruavin]

talk about your muse’s most prized possession(s).

Cebina has formed an emotional attachment to the Sin’dorei clothes and jewelry that Brent was able to procure for her after she was forced to flee Silvermoon. Needless to say, for someone as vain as her, the physical change the Void instilled on her was a difficult one to accept. Being able to wear things from her Sin’dorei days have helped a great deal with the transition.

[cebinaruavin]

Sinister Shadows

((Story co-written with @thefugitivemango / Alteris . Story elements discussed with/approved by @nepenthea / @pariker . @brent-sunborn and @kaiekasunwhisper tagged for character mention))

~*~*~

Ears flickered and eyes darted around. Alteris had no desire to be here, of all places. He’d heard stories of Nazjatar, of course - he expected every elf had. And even before his family had inducted him into the shadowy cult of Twilight, it sounded very much like a place he wanted to avoid at all costs. Seeing it now, that opinion hadn’t changed.

But he had a purpose here and now. In the ruins of Zin-Ashari, the Coterie had made camp. Expecting the glory of N’Zoth to wash over them here, at the moment of his expected release… they waited. She waited. Nepen’thea meditated, communing with the darkness, the shadowy power that flowed through her. Empowered her. Even now, she was in a trance state, completely attuned to the Void. Alteris watched her from the shadows of her lavish room. Watching her, and the door… warily. If she woke, she’d have questions. And if Kai’eka or that angry little stalker she partnered with came back, they’d have questions, too.

Questions he’d rather avoid.

“Find it yet?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Thought y’knew where it was.”

“Never said that, Sweetie,” Cebina’s melodious voice replied.

It was true. The priestess has promised to keep an eye out for the item Alteris had requested, and to collect it if found. However; she hadn’t been invited to Thea’s room often since then; the Speaker was drawn to her Void meditation more and more the closer N’Zoth came to being free. Just as well. The commotion at the Eternal Palace gave the two interlopers the perfect opportunity to search her room freely.

And so, while Alteris watched her back, Cebina rummaged through chests, drawers and wardrobes. She wasn’t about to risk actively using her powers, though. That would leave a trail that could be traced back to her.

Time passed and Cebina huffed. Her search had yielded no results. She looked over to a large pile of pillows where Thea’s famous hookah was kept.

“You also never mentioned what it would look like,” she added as she got up and went over to look under and around the pillows.

“I dunnae know what it looks like! I told yeh that!” he whisper-shouted back, brow furrowing. “It’s gotta be here, though. She wouldn’t leave it behind.”

He slipped back from watching Nepen’thea, delving deeper into the room to help Cebina search. It was a huge disadvantage, not knowing what, exactly, it looked like. But a powerful item like that, literally his leash, wasn’t something he could see the Speaker leaving outside her reach. It had to be there, somewhere!

“Check boxes and shit.” he whispered again. “Th’ thing in me’s some kinda sphere… maybe th’ controller is, too.”

“Boxes are too obvious,” Cebina tapped her finger on her lips as she thought, “Hmm, a sphere…”

Her ears perked up as she made her way back to the vanity and began sifting through the jewelry.

“Come here and see if any of these feel familiar to you.”

Alteris shrugged - it was worth a shot. Slowly, he hovered his hand over the jewelry as Cebina splayed it out atop the vanity. His lip curled down, in disgust; lavish necklaces and bracelets, earrings to match… gaudy things, some of them. Others so ornate and complex, he could hear the whispers of unearned superiority in their low jinglings when Cebina set them out. Alteris was never big into the lavish life anyway. But this seemed especially excessive. Sickeningly so. 

Nothing felt familiar.

He huffed, grumbling lowly in… Dwarvish?... as he continued the futile search. Nothing reacted, nothing felt any different or out of the ordinary. None of the jewelry could be the controller. Nothing in the room felt like the controller. If she hid it, she hid it well. And he didn’t have time to overturn every drawer or case in the room to find it. His eyes narrowed, shooting back to the Speaker in stasis. She’d forced his hand, this time. Bringing him back into enslavement, flaunting her power so needlessly… for what? She didn’t seem to want him for anything other than just to say she had him. A pet. He wouldn’t get free of her as long as she had that control. Otherwise…

“... We’ve gotta improvise.” he mumbled lowly, eyes narrowed.

Cebina sighed at Alteris’ lack of patience as she went about returning the different pieces of jewelry in their rightful positions in the ornate box. There was a reason she mostly worked alone... 

“Not much to improvise on, Sweetie. Thea’s not dumb. She hides her things well. There’s probably an Arcane cloak over it. Makes it invisible and is preventing Void users from detecting it.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at Nepen’thea’s cleverness, “She’s good. Best just to put everything back where we found it and come back when the next opportunity presents itself. I’ll look into acquiring something that can help us detect Arcane enchantments for next time.”

It sounded like a solid plan. And if Alteris was of a mind to hear it, he might’ve agreed. But his mind was made up - if he couldn’t find the controller, he’d simply have to make sure she could never use it. And there was only one sure-fire way to make sure of that!

“Won’t be a next time, Sweetie.” Alteris returned, somewhat mockingly.

He reached back, quickly drawing his swords from their scabbards. Without hesitation, he reeled back, and thrusted them at Nepen’thea! ...But it wasn’t so simple to kill a Speaker. Least of all, one as cunning as her! The void energies surrounding her reacted, forming a dense barrier that caught Alteris’ blades as he thrust them towards the Speaker. He snarled, pressing against the void barrier with all his might! Within it, Nepen’thea seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on; her serene expression remained, as her meditations continued. 

Somehow, it pissed Alteris off all the more.

“What are you…?!” Cebina quickly spun as she heard the clash of energies.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Alteris wasn’t the patient type. He’d demonstrated that once already by getting killed in Silvermoon not long after his resurrection from the Void. She wanted to be angry, but really, Alteris was just acting like the dumbass he was. It was her own fault for agreeing to come with him on this search in the first place. 

The damage was done. Nepen’thia had been attacked. Despite her appearing oblivious to it, no doubt had a way of detecting who had made the attack. She could attempt to stop Alteris, and risk going down with him when shit hit the fan. Or, she could help him in murdering a prone Speaker and gain more control and freedom over her own situation. Between her and Alteris, they could no doubt get the job done.

She didn’t need to move from where she was, extending her hands as the shadows weaved around to encompass her entire body. Her powers were much stronger here, so close to N’Zoth’s embrace. The shadows extended from her fingertips, shooting across the room to move over the barrier.

“Get ready,” she told Alteris, “I’ll have the shield down in under a minute.”

It was all she said before setting her mind to the task at hand, pouring all of her concentration in nullifying the barrier. The Speaker’s shield was strong, but her mind being elsewhere made it less strong than it could be. Cebina, being empowered and in full concentration, was much stronger in this situation. The Void energies sparked and flared.

Pleasantly surprised Cebina didn’t try and stop him, Alteris grinned. He held, pressing against the void shield as long as it took for the Priestess to undo it. It shattered in an instant, the powers both of them exacted against it proving sufficient enough in overcoming the barrier! 

“Now!”

The burst, however, caused a blowback - a steady galewind force of power blasting back anything not tied down! Nepen’thea’s personal protection was layered, it seemed. The shield was only the beginning! Curtains billowed, clothing racks and dressers toppled over, the room itself fell into an upheaval… But Alteris remained, planting his feet as he resisted the blast. He couldn’t fail now, they’d come too far for that by now!

“Nnnyyaaaaagh!” he cried out, swords inching closer against the torrent of energy repelling him!

He began to gain ground, razor-sharp tips of his dark swords closing in on the Speaker. Tantalizingly close - mere millimeters! He lunged with all his might to close the gap. It worked; the blades found purchase in Nepen’thea’s chest, barely piercing her skin!

Her eyes shot open, affixed on Alteris. She smirked.

Then, she was gone.

The repellant force ceased, the room falling eerily still. Alteris collapsed, dazed and dumbfounded by what had just happened. The death rune, perhaps? No… it hadn’t triggered. Both he and Cebina would’ve felt it. He quickly looked at his arm, where the rune was - intact, as it had been. She vanished for another reason altogether. Cebina as well had braced herself for the pain that came with the rune being set off… but it never came. Thea was gone… but not dead. 

“--What happened?!” he demanded, eyes narrowing at Cebina… as if she knew any more than he did.

“Pookie?”

The horror separated itself from the shadows as it was called, taking its rightful place at the Priestess’ side and awaiting its orders.

“Find Thea. Kill her.”

The shadow monstrosity made its way around the room. If Thea teleported somewhere, the Void creature would easily sense her trail and track her down. It lingered around where the Speaker’s body had been, seeming to sniff the air around, but there was no trail to be found. Cebina herself kept her shadows on high alert. Not attempting to subdue her powers anymore as she tried to detect a Void tear or portal of any kind.

“I… don’t know,” she finally admitted, “She’s not dead, but she didn’t teleport or blink away, either.”

She suddenly gasped as she realized. Thea had been in deep meditation… she’d been working harder and longer for months enhancing her connections to the Void. Attacking her in such a out of body experience could only do one thing...

“She’s become one with the Void,” she concluded, wide eyes looking at Alteris, “We destroyed her body, but her spirit is lost in the Void. That’s why our runes didn’t go off.”

“.... Y’sure?”

Alteris continued looking around, warily. Joining with the Void wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He much preferred the assurance of a corpse. He’d joined with the Void himself, before… and clearly that didn’t turn out to be a permanent arrangement. His ear twitched as he looked Cebina over, lips curling to a smirk. Nepen’thea was the one to pulled him from the Void; no one else among the Coterie could. Cebina, perhaps, but… she wouldn’t. Not after going through the trouble to help him kill her. That was, more or less, what they did.

“She’s good as dead, if that’s true, lass.” he chuckled. “Think we did it.”

The room was already a mess, but Alteris set immediately to trashing the place further; yanking down drapery, scattering clothes… then dousing every soft fabric thing in alcohol by pouring it out. It wasn’t hard to figure out his next move.

Cebina simply watched him, silently. Pookie had returned to her side, emitting some strange mix of a growl and a purr as the Priestess gently scratched the top of its head. This wasn’t at all how she’d imagined the scenario playing out. A less obvious murder scene would have been preferred, but there would be none of that with Alteris.

Obviously, he wasn’t the type to think ahead very far.

“So what’s the plan, Sweetie? Where do we go from here?” 

She was curious as to what was going through his head.

“... We?”

Alteris raised his brow, as he emptied out the last of the alcohol onto the lavish bed in the corner. He shrugged at Cebina, passing her by as he headed for the door.

“She’s fuckin’ dead, now. I’m free, lass. I’m gone.” he explained. “Th’plan now is t’burn this shithole down, and ne’er look back.”

He was polite enough, at least, to wave Cebina out of Nepen’thea’s encampment before lighting the match and tossing it into the volatile room. But he was clearly eager to - fingers twisting and spinning the match stick around, in anticipation.

“You oughta do th’ same.”

Cebina frowned, waving aberration back to the shadows as she followed Alteris out the door. She wasn’t about to stop him from burning down evidence, after all. 

“We had a deal, Alteris,” she reminded him, hands finding their places on her hips, “I help you gain your freedom, you help get me off the chopping block. Brent is going to be furious, and,  unlike with you, your big kodo of a sister won’t hesitate to cut me down. If you won’t take me with you, at least make it look like I tried to fight you off.”

Alteris scoffed! He let out a light chuckle, as he tossed the match in through the doorway - the room ignited quickly. 

“Can’t help if y’still want in good with these people, aye? Brent’ll be huntin’ me down. An’ Kai’s gonna be fuckin’ pissed, family ties aside.” He shrugged. “Y’want off th’ choppin’ block? Do what I suggest; disappear.”

Swiftly, he tucked his matchbook and cigarette case back into his pocket, and turned to leave. 

“Deal’s done. Nice knowin’ yeh.”

Cebina did nothing to stop Alteris from walking away, though she did look awfully put out; arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She let out a sigh as the shadows around her body slipped away.

“Thanks for burning the evidence, at least, Sweetie.”

While part of her was frustrated at Alteris’ unwillingness to hold up his end of the deal, the situation could have been much worse. All evidence of Cebina being part of this whole event was currently up in flames. All she had to do was make up a story about being away investigating a disturbance, returning only to see Alteris fleeing the scene. Brent would automatically blame him anyway. 

She turned to face the burning building, arms remaining crossed over her chest, hip sticking out. Then, she smiled as she enjoyed watching The Speaker’s home burn just a little longer. Finally, she brought a hand to touch the ring on her finger, activating the communication rune beneath it.

“Brent! Kai!” She made certain her voice sounded alarmed and out of breath, “It’s an emergency!”

[cebinaruavin]

28 - When left to their own devices, how would they spend a free day?

When not entertaining clients, Cebina can usually be found shopping for high end clothing and jewelry or taking a leisurely stroll in the public gardens.

[cebinaruavin]

Honesty Hour: Is there anyone you would willingly give your life to protect?

Cebina raised an eyebrow at the question, before giving an amused chuckle.

“Oh please, Sweetie! Do you really believe me to be that pathetically sentimental towards anyone?” She gave her head a shake, “No, Darling. I can’t think of anyone I’d permanently give my life for. I’ve got to look out for number one.”

[cebinaruavin]

Y: 2. what inspired you to create them?

Cebina was originally created as a blank D&D character. It was a bit of a twist from our usual character creation introduction. All characters began as regular humans. We’d give the DM our character names and he would give us the backstory. Each character had unique traumas from a specific event, and the campaign began with these characters escaping their situation together. At this point, we got to decide and act out how our characters interacted with the world around them and each other after what they’d experienced. While most of the group went with the positive character development route, I decided to go with the opposite. Cebina used her past trauma to grow stronger and smarter, but in a dark, sinister and self serving way. It was my first time RPing an evil character, and it was extremely challenging, given she’s the opposite of everything I am OOCly. It’s STILL a challenge. But it’s a challenge I really enjoy.

[cebinaruavin]

J: 2. who makes them happy?

Cebina makes herself happy. She doesn’t rely on anyone else to do that for her.

[cebinaruavin]

Aftermath

((Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @brent-sunborn ))

~*~*~

March 30th ~ Silithus

‘She’s close… I can feel it…’

Brent stalked through the shadows cast by the monolithic remnant structures of the Qiraji Empire. He couldn’t help but wonder how marvelous and grand the structures looked in their prime; perhaps someday, they would be restored. But that day seemed to slip further away with every setback the Coterie, and Twilight’s Hammer as a whole, faced. Most recently, the death of Michiel Voidstrider weighed heavily on his mind. He was poised to unite the fractured cultists from around Azeroth, until his untimely demise at the hands of the Phoenix Guard. Now, scattered once more, the Twilight’s Hammer struggled in finding the organization they so desperately needed.

He moved quietly through the ruins, drawn to a familiar presence. The shadows guided him, through their shared connection, to Cebina. Like the other cultists who gathered in Silithus under Michiel’s camp, Brent had expected she’d run off - or worse… been killed. Either way, he feared he would never see her again. But that fear dissipated as he felt the faint connection they’d formed draw him back to Silithus. She was alive, he knew she was! Now, all he had to do was find her. She’d told him of her path to the Void, gaining strength and power from it on levels he’d never thought possible without dire side effects. And it became clear to him that if the Coterie was to survive, they needed that strength; hers, and their own. Not only that… he had developed a fondness for Cebina. He delved deeper into the ruins, feeling her presence stronger and stronger with every step. She was close…

~*~*~

Cebina had learned how to survive on her own. She had been able to do it in a cave in Northrend and it was even easier to do in the ruins of the Qiraji Empire. There were many places to hide behind traps and walls. She’d managed to ensnare the mind of an orc to gather supplies for her; rations and such. His body was left to feed the silithids once he’d outlived his usefulness. While the Phoenix Guard had killed Michiel, disrupted the ritual and destroyed the obelisks, the Twilight camp had not been razed, allowing her and other survivors to gather what was left before they scattered.

However, Michiel has been the glue holding the camp together. Cebina had considered fighting alongside him against the Guard, but she wasn’t stupid. She was skilled in killing, but her style was picking people off from the shadows, not facing a skilled military group head on. The best she could do was help Michiel hide and cover his trail, but he wanted none of that.

Stupid human…

Still, she’d managed to make herself a comfortable little nest while she considered her different contacts and where to go next.

Her ear twitched as she sensed something familiar in the shadows. She cursed to herself as she recognized Brent’s presence. If she could sense him, then he could sense her. How foolish of her! She hadn’t considered what repercussions that one evening would have. Looking back, it -had- been their shadows that had pushed them together more than anything else…

Cebina left what remained of her precious belongings and made her way through the cover of the ruins. Her shadows enveloped her, even though she knew it would lead him to her faster. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the Pathfinder. He had initially presented himself as a fellow cultist, answering Michiel’s call. The next time she saw him, he was revealed to be part of the Phoenix Guard, but his loyalties rested with the Twilight… or so she thought. Now, as he stalked her through the ruins, she wondered what side he was really on.

“What are you looking for this time, Sweetie?” She asked from the shadows. He was close enough now, she knew he could hear her, “A friend or an enemy?”

Brent’s ear twitched, hearing the melodious sound of a familiar voice.The shadows conveyed the distrust; he hadn’t considered it before, but it made sense now considering his affiliation with the very people who killed Michiel. Her words all but confirmed it. Carefully, he looked around for a moment, reaching out through the shadows to gain an awareness of his surroundings. He knew Cebina was close… it was other entities he worried about. But as far as he could tell, he wasn’t followed. He stepped out of the shadows, into a clearing - daggers sheathed.

“Still used to me coming to you with a black eye and broken nose, yeah?” he replied, eyes scanning the landscape cautiously. “Either way… came looking for my friend.”

Cebina watched his movements carefully as he stepped into the clearing, and used her shadows to scan the area. She wanted to be certain he was alone, despite his words. Her ears twitched, but after a moment she seemed satisfied, not sensing anyone else in the area. They were alone.

“I suppose, it’s a sign you didn’t fight against us,” she finally answered.

The Priestess moved into the clearing, the shadows surrounding her clearing away. She looked good, considering her predicament. There were no signs of struggle or injury. She wore a nice red and golden robe, her hair was combed and the emerald adorned necklace sparkled in the desert sunlight. She had no visible weapon. Of course, her strongest weapon was always a part of her. She kept her eyes on his, only taking them away to give him a quick look over, keeping her distance.

She stood tall and proud, despite her predicament.

“Where were you?” She demanded.

Brent’s ears wilted, as his shoulders shrunk. He sighed, eyes flicking over Cebina. Thankfully, she appeared unharmed.

“... I didn’t find out until it was too late, or I would’ve tried to stop it.” he said. “And, for the moment… my cover’s intact with them. But we’ll be changing that soon - we’re striking back.”

He approached Cebina slowly, keeping his hands in plain sight as he did. As precarious as the situation was, he didn’t want to make any wrong moves that would drive her away; after all, he didn’t just come find her to see if she was alright.

“... Come with us.” he offered, as he tugged his mask from his face. “Scattering is what they want us to do; we have to stay united. The Coterie could use you to get revenge for Voidstrider. And I’m quite certain you could use us, as well.”

It was difficult to tell if she believed his words or not. Cebina’s expression remained guarded in a frown as he spoke. Internally, she debated. She’d made a few miscalculations in the recent months that landed her in her current predicament. She absolutely did not want to make another.

Brent knew how powerful she was. What if he was hunting her? Was he sent to lure her into a trap? Or was he trying to get close to her again so that he could backstab her? She was a traitor to Quel’Thalas. Certainly, bringing her in would earn him a pretty penny. She narrowed her eyes as he approached, not moving back, but not letting her guard down either.

Then again, it would have been easier for him to take her out while the Guard had moved in on Michiel… back when he had her trust. Fel! He could have tried to kill her the very evening they had fucked!

Her ear twitched as she considered her options. His mentioning The Coterie piqued her curiosity.

“And where exactly do you plan on taking me?” She asked, “I can’t exactly stroll in to Quel’Thalas, much less Sun’s Reach.”

Brent sensed her hesitance; not undeserved. He knew that if their positions were reversed, he’d have the same concerns. He continued to hold his hands in plain view, stopping short of her. It was a precarious situation, indeed - telling her more could prove his sincerity. But if he failed to bring her with him, that would put The Coterie at risk. They both had a lot to lose… but a lot more to gain.

“We have a base hidden in the Ghostlands.” he revealed, after a moment of brief hesitation. “Our Speaker has a run-down estate there; right under Quel’Thalas’ nose.”

Slowly, he lowered his hands, and took another step towards Cebina. He reached out to her, through their shadow link, hoping to convey his sincerity, and let her know he was telling the truth. He calmed his mind, trying to set aside his own distrust so not to make her feel more vulnerable.

“Well, doesn’t that sound convenient…” She answered, sounding more than a little suspicious, “I suppose I only have your word to go by as proof of your sincerity?”

Cebina brought a hand up to rest on her hip, her eyes never leaving Brent’s as he approached her. She showed no sign of looking to flee, allowing him to walk right up to her, even touch her. Her shadows brushed his, reading them and the intentions she could gleam off of them. They confirmed his sincerity, which quelled some of her anxieties. A person could easily lie, but Cebina knew the shadows well enough… she could read them to glean and decipher truth and lies. She didn’t hide was she was doing. If he was being honest with her he wouldn’t resist as she pulled at his mind.

“Let me learn more about The Coterie, Sweetie. Then, and only then, will I decided to accept your request or not.”

Brent had felt such mental probings before… they didn’t go well. A Pathfinder was worth little if he couldn’t keep his secrets. Over time he’d learned to shield his mind from such infiltrations, protecting his thoughts from outsiders. Cebina would feel his mind closed off, defended… at first. He sighed, before nodding slowly.

“... Very well. For you… I’m an open book.”

He closed his eyes, as his shadows reached out to hers once more. They connected, opening his thoughts to her freely. He thought about The Coterie; how he’d come to join them with Thea through Kai’eka all those years ago in Gadgetzan. He thought of his time with the Blackened Blades, carrying out the will of the Masters by taking down targets of value from the shadows. He thought of his gift - the Black Veil, bestowed upon him through his connection to C’Thun. He thought of Blackrock Mountain. He thought of Jedoga Shadowseeker, and the call of Yogg-Saron… He thought of the Cataclysm. He thought of his attempt on the former Warchief… and subsequently, the end of the Blackened Blades. He thought of the Heart of Y’shaarj in Pandaria, and his work in picking up pieces of Garrosh’s failed attempt to embrace it.

All of it, everything he’d ever done with and for the Twilight’s Hammer, laid open to Cebina, free to read and observe as she pleased. He hid nothing from her; his dedication to the cause was unfaltering. He wanted her to see that. To know he could be trusted. His eyes opened, and peered back into Cebina’s, feeling her shadows wash over his thoughts and memories.

Cebina had expected resistance, so her eyes widened in surprise as Brent’s memories came flooding into her through their linked shadows. Her ears moved and twitched as she scanned through. The Priestess was well versed in mentalisme, sorting through what she needed, ignoring the rest, staying alert for any purposefully hidden compartments, traps or other tricks.

Once she confirmed his sincerity and loyalty to the Old Gods, she looked through what The Coterie entailed; What they were about, how they functioned, what their goals were.

Satisfied, she gently severed the connection, finally allowing herself to relax, her hands reached out to rest on his belt, her shadows beginning to give in and caress his like they had back at her tent. She leaned in to press her lips to his cheek. In that moment, her guard dropped. Brent would feel it through the shadows; a large wave of relief. He had her full trust.

“Won’t be a problem, I hope, me living with your girlfriend…” she gave him a wicked grin, accepting his request.

He was relieved, feeling the aura of trust between them again. Brent knew Cebina would be a powerful ally, providing The Coterie with greater knowledge of the Void, as well as another faithful servant to their ancient Masters. As she drew near, he brought a hand to her shoulder, allowing his shadows to play at hers as before. He leaned in to the cheek kiss, smiling at not only the sign of acceptance, but the affection that came with it. He let her in close.

That all changed immediately as she mentioned Thea.

The hand on her shoulder stiffened, pushing her off at arm’s length from him. He looked her dead in the eyes, expression severe; even his shadows seemed to push hers back with a certain firmness.

“Nepen’thea Dusksinger is the Speaker of The Coterie, Cebina.” he stated, simply. “We’ve grown close over the years, long before either of us heard and heeded the call of the Old Ones. You’ve felt my devotion to the cause, yeah? Well, my devotion to Thea is stronger than that. Tenfold.”

The shadows around him began pressing hers further back, conveying the strong emotions his stern face wasn’t in that moment. His gaze grew intense; despite the void in her eyes, he seemed to stare through it all into her very core. They flared green… burning.

“Our relationship and trust are unparalleled. We both take up others’ company, in something of an open arrangement. But regardless of where we turn for such pleasures and delights, we’re committed to each other wholly and fully.” he explained further. “She may even proposition you, if she feels so inclined. There’s no jealousy between us in such things; she knows no one means near as much to me as she does, and vice-versa.”

His hand dropped from Cebina’s shoulder, allowing her to step closer if she wished; but his aura turned a tinge more hostile, no longer concerned or caring about scaring her away. Such was the severity of his emotions and feelings for Thea.

“You’d absolutely be welcomed in her home. Any servant to the Old Gods as faithful as you are is family, there.” he informed her. “But make no mistake - and feel free to read my mind on this if you doubt me - if you do anything to slight, hurt, or otherwise exhibit ill intent towards Thea…I will kill you.”

Again, he did little to block out his feelings or thoughts, allowing Cebina to feel the truth behind his words. He stared her down, as his shadows connected to hers - aggressively at first, before slowly subsiding.

“We understand each other now, yeah?”

The more severe Brent got while talking about Thea, the wider Cebina grinned. That fierce, protective side he was showing towards their Speaker was insanely attractive.

“I’d expect nothing less from a Blackened Blade,” she said, “And you have nothing to worry about. You’ll find I’m extremely loyal to my friends and my cause.”

She remained where she was, accepting the distance he had put between them, though her shadows continued to play at his.

“I have to say, I’m not into women, however, I’m not opposed to it if it earns me favour and pretty trinkets.”

She gave him a wink, before moving closer to him, clearing her throat.

“Listen, Sweetie…” she said, finally taking on a serious tone, “I don’t ever do this with anyone, but… You put my mind at ease. Let me do the same for you.”

She reached out her hands and placed them on his temples, locking her gaze with his as she opened up her mind and connected to him through the shadows once more. Instead of peering into his mind, he was allowed to peer into hers. There were no tricks and no barriers, allowing him to see and feel her sincerity and unwavering loyalty to him and Nepen’thea. The connection confirmed what he already knew of her. An assassin and informant using her body and intelligence as a means to accomplish her goals. She didn’t have much history with the Twilight Hammer, however, there was no mistaking her loyalty to the Old Gods.

Unfortunately, allowing him to see that also gave him a glimpse into her life before freedom. Her body had been owned by many, forced to serve one master after another before finding favour with the Old Gods in that cave in Northrend and fighting her way to freedom. There was no shame to be felt; Cebina had been hardened a long time ago, and used that life to grow stronger and become who she was now.

After giving him sufficient time to search her, the connection faded. One hand remained at his temple, the other fell to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re my friend now, Sweetie. No way around it.”

The connection was strong - very strong. Brent wasn’t prepared for such a fast and heavy influx of memories and feelings, none of which being his own. As it subsided, he continued to gaze into Cebina’s eyes, allowing the information to process in his mind before moving or speaking again. She’d endured so much; been used, and abused by so many… and found the strength in the Old Gods to give her control of her own destiny.  He stood, staring into her eyes for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say. His mind settled on one thing - a rare display of emotion. He brought his hands up around her back, and pulled her in flush against him in an embrace. He sighed, sorrowfully.

“... The Coterie takes care of its own.” he said, voice slightly faltering. “No one will hurt you like that again.”

As quickly as he pulled her in for the hug, he released her and stepped back - face once again stern and unreadable, no evidence of the sorrow plastered across it mere seconds ago during their embrace. He nodded once, before extending a hand.

“Friends, then.” he affirmed. “We know plenty about each other now - no going back from it.”

The embrace caught her by surprise, but she didn’t try to push him away. Her ears lowered at his words. It felt awkward… it was the first time she had opened up her mind to allow someone to see into it. She was a very guarded person when it came to her mind, especially of her memories. She suddenly felt very vulnerable… But after being allowed into confirm Brent’s sincerity, it was something she could live with. Her ears had returned to their rightful place before he released her.

“Agreed,” she nodded to his words, “And, Sweetie… About what you saw? I’m alright. I’m no damsel that needs saving.”

“--No, I…” Brent cleared his throat, and shook his head. “I… I know that. I was just…”

He grew flustered, struggling to form a coherent sentence. There wasn’t much he could do to dispel it, after the hug, and the words he said following it. He felt foolish, coddling her as if she were some helpless thing - especially despite seeing very clearly she wasn’t. She’d saved herself. Carved out her own fate, free of the bonds of others. How belittling and insulting he must’ve seemed, embracing her like some scared child! His ears pinned back, as he cast his gaze towards the sand. Slowly he turned from her, shoulders slumped.

“... You’re right.” he muttered. “I’m… sorry.”

Cebina shifted awkwardly as Brent turned away and apologized. There was a reason she didn’t let anyone into her head and this was it. She didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. She didn’t want pity. She wasn’t ashamed of what happened to her, she was proud to have survived it, to have freed herself from it, to have made herself stronger because of it.

“Sweetie…” she sighed, closing the distance between them and linking her arm with is, “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re fine. Now take me to meet the lovely Thea! I can think of some fun ways for the three of us to get acquainted…”

Brent cleared his throat, as he straightened up once more. He turned to Cebina, arm linked with hers, and smiled - weakly, but intently. He nodded once.

“It’ll be a bit of a trip.” he warned her. “All the way back to Quel’Thalas. But on the bright side… it’ll be easier to sneak you those finer things you like. Thea likes them, too - you two will get along well, I think.”

His weak smile strengthened, turning to a full fledged grin, as he led Cebina off towards the entrance of the Ruins.

(( @pariker / for @nepenthea character mention ))