#Kidcatgemini

[trellia]

A little something I drew for my bff @kidcatgemini ! We created these two characters 25 years ago. TIME FLIES. They changed a lot with time. They were Beast Wars OC's when they began. Now they are SciFi girlfriends ;) Gemini belongs to @kidcatgemini: a very skilled hacker, she helps Fiona fight against the corporation that created her. Fiona belongs to me. She's a cyborg, one of the first who survived the experimentation. Born from the lab, she knows very little of the world outside and relies on Gemini to teach her how to navigate this new world. If you're wondering why her hair is blue, it's because they're fibre optics.

[dahlyah-grimshatter]

[[ A couple Patron Reward Chibis I got of Dahlyah from the wonderful and talented @kidcatgeminiart! She’s so good at capturing Dahlyah’s expressions!

 The first is angry Dahlyah! It’s not hard to upset a hot-blooded Dark Iron like her, but it’s certainly not advised! Rather, better to make her happy and excited, as seen in the second picture! 

A huge thanks to @kidcatgemini for these chibis! Check out her artwork on her Patreon! And while you’re there, become a patron to get amazing chibis like these of your very own! <3 ]]

[avehi-the-adamant]

The Chosen Champion

[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini​ / @kaiekasunwhisper​. ]]

Acclimating to Maldraxxian life was easy. Scary easy. It wasn’t a scene Avehi ever thought she’d feel so accustomed to, but here she was; working with the Necrolords to unite Maldraxxus again for the good of the Shadowlands. A realm like this, dedicated to protecting all other realms beyond the veil, couldn’t do so divided. Avehi had worked hard to that end, making great progress with the House of Rituals during an ongoing entanglement with Revendreth. She’d leave for that realm soon enough, but not until this mysterious Champion of the House of the Chosen Melosh had told her about was dealt with. 

She scowled at the thought; who from Azeroth would support the enemies of unity, rather than fight against them? It infuriated her that someone from her world - another Death Knight, no less - would voluntarily be so detrimental to the already-daunting task that lay before them. But that’d be set straight soon enough.

Epitaph made for the Theatre of Pain with haste; they served Avehi well on Azeroth, and just as well here beyond the veil. Such were the benefits of a spectral steed, she supposed. The familiarity was a boon in this strange and unsettling land. Which… wasn’t all too unsettling, as she looked around. Gruesome and savage, but… familiar, somehow. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt she belonged here.

Was this where her soul would’ve ended up, if her death were permanent?

Finding the answer to that question would have to come at a later time. Epitaph came to a stop at the entrance to the Theatre-- the cheering and clattering of bone and steel filling the air around her. She dismounted, sending her steed to vanish once more into nothingness, before stepping inside.

~*~

Blood gushed out into the Champion’s face as a hooked blade tore through her opponent’s neck, slicing open the artery. She kept her momentum going, spinning around completely as the challenger grasped at the fatal wound, pathetically trying to stop the bleed. Not that they’d have time to bleed to death. Both of the Champions blades came in horizontally now. The first hit cut through the midsection, while the second cleaved the upper half of the body clean off with a sickening crack! 

Kai’eka grinned. She couldn’t have wished for a better time in the afterlife than this! Winning her benefactors the anima they needed time and time again to help mend the Shadowlands? Oh, how she loved when violence was the answer to everything.

She harnessed her blade, before slamming a plated boot into the dead body’s neck, coating it in ice. The warrior then reached down, grabbed the head by the hair and, with unholy strength, broke the head off and held it up into the air in victory. 

The crowd went wild!

“KAI! KAI! KAI!”

The Draenei’s brow raised as she wove through the crowd. It couldn’t be… could it? As the chanting grew more and more feverish and excited, Avehi hastened to get a better look. She began to push, knocking patrons aside or pulling them back to give way as she slipped between them. She was… stunned… when she finally laid eyes on the champion in the center of the ring. Yep-- it was Kai’eka alright. She wasn’t entirely sure if she should be amazed, disappointed, or proud of the fellow Death Knight she’d raised. Regardless, she wasn’t surprised.

“The Indomitable Champion of the House of Chosen claims another hapless victim!” 

Announced the Grandmaster, feeding the crowd’s frenzied excitement. 

“Is there none who can stop this master of disaster? This whirl of blades? Who dares to challenge Kai’eka the Butcher?”

‘Tch…’ For a moment, Avehi forgot this was why she’d come. The traitorous House of the Chosen had recruited Kai’eka, it seemed. Surely she simply didn’t know the true intention of her newfound allies. Kai’eka had to be set straight. But in an environment like this, she was unapproachable in all but one manner. Avehi contemplated simply waiting until the day’s fighting was over. And yet her body continued to move as it had been, cutting through the crowd to get to the stairs.

“I do!” she declared, unabashed.

The crowd’s eye turned from Kai’eka to the challenger as she descended the bloodied and fractured stairs leading into the heart of the amphitheatre. Free from the tightly-packed mess of spectators, Avehi was free to draw her hammer as she focused her gaze on Kai’eka. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, the memory of the first time she’d faced this unusually muscular elf crossing her mind. Kai’eka had only grown stronger since then, in undeath. 

This would be fun.

The warrior tossed the head aside and turned to face the new challenger. She was surprised to see Avehi, though the only indication of such was a raised eyebrow. A grin tugged at the corner of her lips, though. 

Avehi had been the one to kill her, and raise her. Kai’eka knew how strong the Draenei was, and wouldn’t underestimate her again. The thought of facing her again in battle was an exciting one. A test to see how far she’d come in her training as an Ebon Knight.

Kicking the top half of the fresh corpse aside, she made her way to the centre of the ring to meet her opponent.

“Didn’t know you were in Maldraxxus too. Surprised the Chosen haven’t recruited you as well,” she spoke simply, honestly. 

Though, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she never really spent much time outside the Theatre. 

"Kai'eka." Avehi nodded, stopping short of the elf in the center of the arena. "Is this the start of a trend? Or have you always been so careless to whom you pledge your allegiances?"

She slung her hammer up over her shoulder, loosely counter-weighing the glowing crystalline head by draping her forearm over the hilt. Her lichfire eyes flared, the neurotic energy welling up within her. As it always did before a fight. There wasn't a choice here; even if she could talk Kai'eka back from her error in judgement, the Maldraxxi were here to see a fight! The notion immediately reinforced as the Grandmaster's booming voice filled the stadium once again.

"How exciting! These two tiny titans know one another from distant mortal planes! Reunited here, in the crucible of destruction and glory! I couldn't have arranged a better matchup, myself!"

The chanting reached a fevered pitch, as the various denizens shouted and roar with excitement! Clearly Kai'eka had impressed them greatly; what would another like her be like as her opponent? 

The warrior raised an eyebrow. Avehi’s words piqued her interest.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The question was asked, but it was time to fight. The crowd would most likely get upset if all they did was talk. A blade in each hand, Kai’eka shifted her stance, and charged at the Draenei.

“I win fights, they get anima to help protect the Shadowlands,” she informed Avehi as she swung her blades at the Draenei’s knees, “It’s not complicated.”

Avehi leapt back, playing it safe for now as the two conversed. Shrugging her hammer from her shoulder, she took a ready stance and frowned.

"You're under the misconception that the House of the Chosen are protecting the Shadowlands!" she replied, as Rokaa's crystalline head began to swirl with neurotic energy. "Margrave Krexus is dead. And Vyraz killed him!"

Before letting Kai'eka reply, Avehi thrust her hammer forward, sending a death coil at her! It moved quickly, aimed squarely for the center of the elf's chest!

Kai’eka didn’t try to dodge the blast, but instead brought her large sword up to intercept it. The runes on the weapon glowed as it absorbed the necrotic energy, before the warrior swung it and deployed it back towards Avehi, her other blade following up with a horizontal strike for the Draenei’s midsection. 

“What the fuck’s a Margrave?!”

Seriously? Avehi was less shocked as her death coil was returned-- able to lean out of its trajectory without much trouble. But Kai’eka couldn’t be so… clueless, could she? She was starting to think Kai’eka joined the Twilight Cult by accident! The House of the Chosen were at least former allies. But is that as far into it as she read? No question as to who led the House? Sloppy and foolish. Something she’d expect of Raetos, certainly-- but not Kai’eka!

Momentarily baffled by the show of overall situational unawareness, the elf’s follow-up strike landed! For being so poorly informed, she still fought well; Therein was the problem, after all! Her strength needed to be properly implemented, not wasted here working for the enemy! 

Avehi hissed, powering through the sudden pain as the runeblade sliced into her armor to retaliate immediately. She thrust the head of her hammer out to bash Kai’eka’s face!

“Fool! I’m telling you that you’re on the wrong side! Again!”

“Since wh—“

Kai’eka barely managed to lean back on time to avoid a broken nose.

“Son of a bitch…”

She continued with the momentum, jumping up to kick Avehi in the jaw as she performed a backflip and landed on her feet. Immediately, she took on a defensive position.

“Since when?!” She growled, “That Baroness chick, Draka, she led me to them herself. I’ve been doing all the fighting for them here ever since! Where the fuck have you been?!”

Avehi snarled, bringing her gauntlet to her mouth. She eyed a bit of blood her fingers had connected from her lips; courtesy of Kai’eka’s parting kick. Her grip about her hammer tensed.

“If you had peeked your head out of this arena every once in a while, you would’ve seen what I’m talking about!” she scolded the elf! “The other Baron, Vyraz, killed the Chosen’s leader in a power grab! He’s in league with the Jailer, you idiot!”

She rushed at Kai’eka, before jumping up into the air. She spun, bringing her hammer up from behind her-- at the same time, reaching out for Kai’eka with a deathgrip. But rather than rip the elf towards her, the shadows coiled around the elf’s boot to pull and trip her down into a vulnerable position for the blow to land! 

“Why would—“

Kai braced herself for the grip, but not for where it was aimed. She cursed as her foot was yanked and she lost her balance, but her quick reflexes saved her from the blow as she rolled to her right.

“Fuck! Why would I leave the arena?!” 

She growled, literally throwing one of her large blades at Avehi as she continued the rolling momentum and got to a crouching position. 

“All I need to do here is rest, train and fight! I’m perfect for this! You should see all the anima I’ve won!”

It was the last thing she expected Kai’eka to do; mostly, because it was foolish! While the blow landed as intended-- cutting into Avehi’s shoulder-- throwing one’s weapon was a desperation tactic. Ill advised for anyone, especially a Death Knight. As the Draenei staggered back from the force of the blow, she picked up the tossed blade and stared Kai’eka down. Her hand tensed around the hilt of the broadsword as its tip dug into the ground at her feet. The other tightened around the grip of her hammer. It seemed there were two lessons she’d have to teach her, today.

“Are you truly so short-sighted? I’m not arguing that you’re earning anima here.” she snarled. “But you’re doing it for the enemy!”

She brought her hammer up, and swung down hard onto the blade. It cracked… then shattered from the impact in front of the Draenei!

Kai’eka’s eyes grew wide as she realized her mistake, too late. In life, throwing her swords had worked exceptionally well as a surprise attack. She’d forgotten, however, how important a rune blade was to a Death Knight.

She took a few steps, hand outreached as the weapon shattered. The effects were felt immediately. She cried out, falling to her knees as pain coursed through her system. The pain was followed by what she could only describe as ‘void’. Part of her had been torn away as her runeblade was destroyed. Her hand tightened on the hilt of her remaining weapon as her body trembled under the shock of what had just happened. 

“F-fucking bitch…” she growled, but was otherwise too weak to continue.

The crowd went silent.

Avehi cast the hilt of the blade down, freeing her hand to grip her shoulder. Violet blood oozed from her arm, the perforation in her armor cutting clean and deep. It wasn’t all her blood anymore, but still retained its bluish hue just the same. Slowly, her hemomancy set to mending the gash as she stepped towards Kai’eka.

The silence was deafening in a place like this. Thankfully it didn’t last long, replaced soon with hushed murmurs and whispers from confused and anxious fans. Avehi didn’t want to do that to Kai’eka. She knew the pain of a shattered blade all too well-- it was a pain she’d inflicted upon herself once, in misguided desperation. Both then and now were lessons, at least. She stood over Kai’eka frowning in disappointment.

“I know you’re smarter than this, Kai. And if you weren’t before… you are now.” she berated the elf. “You’re here to help-- not to be another problem I have to deal with. You want to fight in the arena? Fine. You want to earn anima? Great. Just have the cognizance to know who you’re really fighting for. Understand?”

With that, she pulled her hand from her wound, and extended it out for Kai’eka in an offer to help her back up.

Kai’eka glared up as Avehi spoke, teeth clenched as she struggled against the aftershocks of losing her blade. Thankfully, she had two, and she didn’t even want to think about how horrible it would have been if that had been her only one. 

To say she was angry and frustrated would be an understatement. Not necessarily towards Avehi, but towards herself. She’d made a horrible mistake in dedicating her entire life to the Twilight Cult, and she’d just found out she’d been doing the same since her arrival in the Shadowlands. Twice now, she’d fought for what she thought was the right cause, only for Avehi to keep coming in to correct her. 

She hated it. Hated being wrong. Hated that she couldn’t trust herself to know the good guys from the bad. 

Of course… admitting all of that out loud wasn’t about to happen. Having been beaten in battle was bad enough.

Her  hand reached out to grab Avehi’s. The woman who had raised her seemed to have a full picture of things.

“Fine,” she growled, the closest she would get to admitting she was wrong, “Then point me in the direction of whoever’s ass I need to kick.”

Once she tugged Kai’eka up out of the dirt, she placed her hand over her arm once more to sustain the healing. She nodded, relaxing a bit, and offering the elf a more amicable expression. Not quite a smile, but… hints of one.

“Still plenty of asses to kick here in the arena. But make it clear you’re not fighting for the Chosen anymore.” she replied, motioning to the crowd-- still murmuring and whispering in confusion. “Your anima winnings should go to support restoring order to the Shadowlands. You fight for the unity of Maldraxxus. You fight for the Undying Army!”

“The Undying Army,” Kai’eka repeated the name before giving a firm nod, “Well, sign me the fuck up.”

[darkestfable]

Pink: Which of your characters would become your best friend?

Probably Raven, if I’m being honest. We both like wine, tea, and books. And he’s not demanding for people’s time, which is great.

[kavtari]

✮ Have you managed to stay away from drama?

Recently, yes. I admit, back in 2011 I was a part of much drama, and I was part of the cause for some drama. It was not my best, but I’ve grown since then. I do miss IC drama - Kav just doesn’t have it happening.

[phyghyver]

Purple: Which of your characters would become your sworn enemy?

Frankly, I'd say Tristan. He's so bad.

@kidcatgemini

[sasorikigai]

kidcatgemini replied to your post: A bilingual moment: I know a word in my native...

I feel that. In both languages x_X

[brent-sunborn]

Twilight Finale

(( Co-written with @kidcatgemini​, who plays @kaiekasunwhisper​. @nepenthea​ for mention, may she rest in peace.))

SEVERAL YEARS AGO...

“Here they come…”

‘They?’ Brent wondered - he was told they’d only be hunting one lone orc. He shivered, not from fear or anticipation, but from the sheer cold of Dragonblight. He and the other Blackened Blades had chilled to the bone in this dragonbone quarry for hours waiting to ambush the would-be new Earthwarder. Apparently, he had enlisted some help.

It didn’t matter. The Blood Elf smirked beneath his mask, as he took his position. He and his shadowed brethren were more than ready to deal with it. The Hour of Twilight was close, he could feel it! And no washed-up Orc could stop it now. No matter how many friends he brought!

Or… so he thought. One by one, he saw his fellow Blackened Blades dispatched by the Soul-bearer’s entourage. They were frighteningly skilled! Brent watched from the shadows until the group neared. Others dove in, but Brent was patient. He brandished his blades, watching, waiting for his opening… There! He lept from the shadows to strike the greenskin down while his allies were distracted by the other Blades, when--

*THWACK!*

He felt his chest nearly collapse. The air vacated his lungs instantly, as the brutish Orc slammed him with his sturdy hammer. He flew back like a ragdoll, skidding along in the snow. Everything went dark after that… for a moment. 

He woke shortly after, feeling like he’d be stepped on by a kodo! Looking around, his fellow Blades were dead. He crawled up the hill, following the various tracks left by his target. But he was too late. As he crested the hill, he saw Asira Dawnslayer, dead in the snow like the rest of them. He collapsed once more, feeling the anguish of defeat stronger and more crushing now than the hammer blow he’d taken. The Orc and his allies made for Wyrmrest Temple now… and Brent was too weak to pursue them any further.

The Blackened Blades had failed.

~*~

The portal closed expediently behind him, sealing Brent off in the safety of Ny’alotha. He cursed under his breath, as he sheathed his daggers. The fighting had escalated quickly in Uldum; Ramkahen and the Wastewanders gained serious momentum in pushing back against N’Zoth’s forces. Brent was, admittedly, impressed with their efforts. The seemingly ragtag group of unlikely allies had organized their counter-offensive well in recent days. He’d heard the Pandaren and their Mogu allies mounted a similarly successful offensive in the Vale as well. The combination of the two didn’t bode well.

Ny’alotha was an odd place, the rogue found. Wide open, perpetually dark, and writhing with monstrous creatures. He frowned beneath his mask - the whole world would look like this too, if N’Zoth got his way… A sigh escaped him as he sheathed his blades. A sigh of relief, perhaps? He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted this anymore. Maybe the forces of Azeroth rallying together like this was for the best…

His ear flickered, as another portal opened nearby. This one linked Ny’alotha to Pandaria, by the look of it. More retreating Twilight forces began pouring through, regrouping after another defeat against Azeroth’s forces. He waited, breath baited, heart sinking every second he didn’t see Kai’eka. Finally, he exhaled a sigh of relief, as she stepped out of the portal, a blade in each hand, both covered in blood. Her natural state.

Her armor beheld scratches and minor dents from battle, but she appeared in good health. Her expression was naturally neutral, but knowing her as long as he had, Brent caught the subtle ear twitch that gave away her annoyance. She frowned as she saw her partner there with the Uldum forces. She was happy to see that Brent was well, but the fact that he was here alongside her wasn’t a good sign.

“Fuck... you too?” She asked, walking over to stand by the Blackened Blade, suddenly feeling the weight of what was happening, “Last stand, then.”

The rogue nodded, wiping his brow with the back of his glove - still running a little warm from the desert heat. His mask hid his deep concern; if Kai’eka was pushed back, of all people… there wasn’t much more the Twilight forces could throw out to stop Azeroth’s advance. 

The scattered remnants quickly rallied into loose formations. The dark platforms shifted and turned, altering configuration for something big. Brent’s ears flattened, realizing what was happening. 

The Pandaria portal wasn’t the last one that would be opened today.

“Take positions! Patrol the area!” came the deep, unsettling voices of the Twilight commanders. “Azerothians are pushing in!”

Brent grunted. This was the last place he wanted to be right now. Locked away in the twisted shadows of an Old God, with the so-called “heroes” of Azeroth banging on the door? He wasn’t a soldier. Not one for large-scale assaults like this. Behemoth Faceless and Twilight Darkcasters formed ranks beneath the burning, ominous skies of the Black Empire. Unfathomable jellyfish-creatures drifted overhead. Spiky tentacles and eye stalks sprouted forth from Il’gynoth’s nest. This was it; this was all they had left to defend Ny’alotha?

It wouldn’t be enough.

“--Kai.” he called, head and shoulders hung wearily. “It’s… it’s over.”

A heavy sigh, as his eyes met hers. They said it all - defeat evident in them already. He shook his head.

“You and I have seen this time and time again. Ahn'qiraj, Northrend, the so-called ‘Hour of Twilight’...” he grumbled, throwing unenthused air-quotes. “We know how this is gonna end.”

Kai’eka met his gaze as the Twilights scattered into their formations. She knew what he was thinking before he even spoke the words. She felt the same dread wash over her, recognizing the moment for what it was. They’d witnessed the defeat of their Masters time and time again. Before, they’d managed to escape and regroup. This time, they wouldn’t get the chance. The only escape was death. Without a rune, there would be no coming back. 

For Kai’eka, though, death wasn’t something to be feared. It was even welcomed, to a point. After a lifetime of devotion to her Masters, and her most recent sacrifice in their name, what better way to end her long life than with one final and ultimate sacrifice? What kind of life was left for her after this final defeat? She and Brent had nothing to return to. Lips pressed into a thin line as she heard the distant sounds of battle as the Azerothian forces pushed through. 

“If this is the end, we go down fighting!” she declared!

His heart sank - a strange, jarring feeling in that moment. Of course she’d say that; Kai’eka was so committed to the Old Gods, and had been for literal decades! Her devotion was unfaltering! His, meanwhile, was anything but. Shaking her blades free of the blood that coated them, Kai’eka went to take her proper position in the defensive formation. Guilt washed over him as he watched her stride off proudly to meet her end. She’d already given so much to this damned cult…

The shadows swirled about Brent, as he teleported quickly behind Kai’eka. He grabbed her shoulder, tugging it to bring her around.

Then threw his arms around her in a tight hug.

Kai’eka’s eyes widened in surprise. It took her a moment to register what was happening. It was strange. Despite their close friendship, outward expressions of friendship between them didn’t happen… other than that one night together. Their relationship was usually expressed through short sentences and long comfortable silences. 

But again… this wasn’t a normal moment…

There was a loud clatter as her swords fell to the ground and her arms returned the embrace. She kept the hug surprisingly gentle, knowing first hand how fragile her partner could be. Her chin rested on his shoulder in the moment, letting out a sigh.

“Hey… Thanks for keeping me sane over the years.”

“Least I could do, for you keeping us all safe.”

The hug lasted more than a moment. A part of Brent didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want to lose the only other person he truly cared about so soon after losing Nepen’thea. Definitely not losing them both to the same idiotic cult. But there wasn’t nearly enough time to convince Kai’eka to shrug off the shadows and abandon the Twilight forces with him. Besides, it wouldn’t be right. He knew Kai’eka was a fierce warrior… dying in such violent combat for something she believed in was the best death she could ever ask for. He envied people with that sort of conviction.

When he finally broke the embrace, he looked up at Kai’eka as he stepped back. He tried to keep up a stalwart facade, but it was nearly impossible to do. His eyes misted, bottoms of them both pooling as he nodded to her.

This would be the last time he saw her. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet… but what choice did he have? Almost in defiance - and yet true to his normal style - he elected not to say anything else at all. A wordless nod said everything for him. He turned from Kai’eka, and tugged his blades free from their sheaths as he walked over to his position.

Even though he, himself, wasn’t ready to die for this cause, he wasn’t going to deny the invaders their chance to die for theirs.

Kai’eka remained where she was for a moment, her turn to watch him go. She’d seen Brent emotional before, but not like this. The fear and sadness he expressed hadn’t been something she’d expected. Was he afraid of death? It was hard to imagine so after all their dangerous missions. One would assume he’d be happy to join with Nepen’thea.

But there was no time to dwell on that. Her ear twitched, noting the sudden silence. N’Zoth must have pulled the intruders into a vision. It would only hold them back for so long. The Horde and Alliance both had spent enough time getting through the various ones they’d set up around Azeroth thanks to that meddling dragon…

Picking up her swords, she turned to leave. Whatever Brent’s disposition on these final moments were, she could only hope he’d make peace with it before the end.

[kidcatgeminiart]

Dahlyah Grimshatter

Completed commission piece for @thefugitivemango of his lovely Dark Iron Dwarf lady, Dahlyah! Always a pleasure drawing your characters! <3

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

~*~*~

Like what you see?

Buy me a  Ko-fi to help me through art school! You can also find me on DeviantArt  and catch my art streams on Picarto!

[heamatic-a]

Mun Views

Answered here!

@kidcatgemini​

[gattius-starfrost]

Revelations

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini. Thanks to @crazyladyhorse​ for lending her aloof rogue, Akosua. Follows Shadows Keep You ))

Worry crept into Gattius’ mind after only a few days. Syrielle wasn't the sort to up and leave without warning. Even if she had urgent business in the city, or back in Dalaran, she was always good about letting Gattius know about it. And now, in her later stages of pregnancy, she definitely shouldn't have been teleporting off to Light-knows-where without telling her husband! One day without seeing her happened occasionally. Two was less common, but since her studies picked up lately, plausible. Three days… Something was wrong. It was very uncharacteristic for her - after all, someone had to feed her cats.

Gattius paced the library, worriedly. Reaching out to her via the signet yielded no reply. Had she taken it off? Was she in some place it didn't work, or was distorted? Maybe she passed out, tired from studying so hard. Maybe she had just become so enthralled in her studies that she took off her signet to better focus. It certainly seemed like something Bey'ron would make her do…

Bey'ron… Gattius scowled at even the thought of that slimy sleazy Magister. Syrielle had spent a lot of time with him recently, studying and learning theory of Pyromancy from him in her efforts to become an Archmage. Late nights in the library… lessons that left her exhausted and spent… he didn't want to believe Syrielle might have fallen into her old Dalaran ways again. But studying magic as seriously as she had back then could have rekindled that promiscuous desire in her again. But… she wouldn't, now. Even if she had such feelings, Gattius knew she'd just come home to find the release she needed. But Bey'ron… Gattius had yet to meet him, but he knew he must have be been alluring on some level. His charm had worked once before, on Ina’thia… was it possible he turned that charm on Syrielle? 

An attractive young pupil… a charismatic teacher…

--No! He shook his head furiously. Syrielle wouldn't do that! Gattius knew she'd changed for good, leaving behind that sort of lifestyle. She knew how much it hurt. A hurt she'd never inflict on Gattius. His ears wilted shamefully for even entertaining the thought!

But that still left his worries unanswered - where was she? Nothing made sense about it. Had he upset her somehow? Was she avoiding him on purpose? He started to think of ways he might’ve upset her recently. He hadn’t made any off-handed remarks at her. He tried to make sure she felt loved and wanted, even given how much time he'd been spending with the Commander lately, or off training by himself. What could've possibly upset her so much that she'd avoid him? Nothing came to mind.

If not intentionally…

Gattius smoked a cigarette, as he gazed out to the sea. He was thoughtful. Troubled… Akosua sighed as she slipped from the shadows beside him.

"Why does he smell so horrible? Hell, kodos are less stinky than that damned noble," she mused, approaching him before offering a respectful incline of her head - if only briefly.

"--There you are!" Gattius turned fully to Akosua, eyes wide and ears perked. “What've you learned? What else can you tell me?”

Akosua slowly shook her head and turned to face him, in return.

"Aye, sorry for vanishing for a bit. I figured it best to try and gather more information. As for what's been learned, I can inform you that the snake is plotting something and I'd be extra careful of him. Do whatever you can to keep Syrielle -away- from him."

“He's targeting Syrie? Why? Why would he target her?” Gattius frowned… answers to his own question flooding his mind. "For killing his bride, I'll bet. Or to get back at me!"

“...Think about it.” Akosua replied, pinning her ears a little. “What do you have that he doesn't?”

Gattius took a long, thoughtful pause. He exhaled a smoke-filled breath, contemplatively.

“He... you mentioned he still wants an heir. And that he knows about my... How does he know? Is he watching us?”

“Long story but it sure as hell wasn't from me.” she shrugged. “Look, just do what you can to keep his filthy hands off of her, alright?”

“I am.” Gattius nodded, firmly. “I'm tightening security around here. Stronger doors, shutters on the windows, and I'm having Syrie keep someone with her at all times. She's with the Commander, for now.”

“I just pray that's enough. If not I can't make promises on the fate of the snake.” Akosua sighed.

“You keep... saying that.” he frowned, eyeing the shadowblade over, appraisingly. "Are you planning to kill him?"

“He's playing a dangerous game here and I suspect he knows it. And for whatever reason if he doesn't know it then he's a bloody fool.” Akosua replied, cooly.

The Blood Knight grunted, and shook his head. He didn’t want it to go that far.

“Let me be clear - I despise the man. But I don't want you to kill him. You understand?”

“Tch, we're running out of options here.” Akosua protested. “What do you want to do then? Let him possibly risk trying something else down the road? You think he's really going to stop?”

He furrowed his brow, but said nothing as he puffed away thoughtfully at his cigarette.

“Gattius, he is a fool and a snake. And even if you cut off a snake's head it can still bite for a while after.”

“Ako, I'm NOT going to order an assassination on him! On anyone!” Gattius repeated, firmly. “He's a disgruntled old man, not an enemy of the Kingdom! Justice will be met, but I'm not going to preemptively have him killed just for plotting against me.”

Akosua pursed her lips and stiffled a low growl before slowly exhaling a calming breath, although barely.

"...He may not be an enemy to the Kingdom but he sure as hell is one to you and your family."

“Perhaps. But he hasn't done anything yet.” he sighed. “I appreciate you warning me, and I'll take every precaution I can.”

“Look, if you want me to continue spying and reporting back to you, I'll do that. However, I doubt the old man is going to ever stop trying to pull some sort of shit.” she warned. “What reason would he have to stop?”

“I would've thought he learned his lesson last time he tried to pull a stunt on me.” Gattius huffed. “But…You might be right."

Frustratedly, he shook his head - hands clenched, as he drew a deeper breath through his cigarette.

“All the same, don't kill him.” he sighed, hanging his head, ears wilting. “I... I can't have him killed. I just can't, Ako! I'm not that guy. As much as I despise him... As much torment as he's caused me, both growing up and now… He's still a Sin'dorei."

“A fool who is foolhardy never learns.” Akosua nearly began to curse under her breath but narrowly caught herself before sighing again. "Alright, fine. I won't end him. However, a snake may shed their skin but that still doesn't change what they are."

“I know. If he actually does anything... I have no problem meting out justice, myself.” Gattius replied, nodding firmly once more - the spark in his eyes affirming the truth in his words. “It's a tough spot. I don't want him to do anything - least of all to Syrielle, or my son. But until he does try something…”

Gattius’ eyes went wide, as his memory flooded back to him. How could he have forgotten the warning he'd received from Akosua? His father… Tharinel… of course! She’d warned him he might try something… but he was reluctant to act. And now… it had cost him!

It was a huge accusation, especially with no proof, other than the word of a shadowblade… but Gattius knew he'd taken her! He didn't know how, but he knew it! And he'd prove it, too - he grabbed his short sword from beside his nightstand, threw his cloak over his shoulders, and rushed out the door. He'd get to the bottom of this - right to the source!

It was time to make good on his promise of meting out justice.

[catscratching]

kidcatgemini reblogged your post: samiesan: angry-shaman: samiesan: samiesan: ...

I tried with my Frost Mage and was killed in two hits.RIP me

Yeah I was doing the healing one and so much damage dear merciful LORD.

Also tried Upper Kara +10 tonight and have to thank my guildies for being fantastic, chill, wonderful people because I was ready to break down and cry.

(One of them started dictating a nasty letter to his first college girlfriend in Discord while we wiped and man. I am lucky in the people around me, because that made me laugh like nothing else would have.)

[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.”

~*~

[darkestfable]

🍏- Is there something you refuse to eat no matter what?

Organ meat, or anything that will taste too ‘meaty’. Plus, the texture is usually too....strange for me. I’m super sensitive to tastes and textures, which unfortunately means I don’t get to try some interesting foods.

[thefugitivemango]

Variant Attachments

[[ 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 ]]

[kavtari]

☯ : Do you prefer to wing it or to plot things out first when it comes to longer threads?

When doing RP in Discord I really like having a general plan but not the details. Like “yeah they will meet up here and they could do these things in this general order or with this goal in mind” then the rest of it is pretty organic. For scenes in game I’m much more about walk-up winging it.