#before sin'dorei AND ren'dorei transformation

[celesterunewhisper]

Day 11 - Watch

Tik. Tik. Tik. The slow sounds of an unseen grandfather clock audibly marked the choking silence that engulfed the elaborate living room. On any other day, the room might have felt comforting, perhaps even welcoming; however, the tension that wove itself with that damn ticking almost made sitting in the room unbearable. In the center of the den, two large couches—red and gold in hue, as was the rest of the decor—were set facing each other with an elegant coffee table between them. Next to the couches, an oversized chair sat to meet the entire room, sitting there like a throne; the fireplace flickering behind the high-back chair only served to cast a menacing shadow over any who sat in it. Compared to the rest of the furniture, it was clear the chair was moved deliberately into the room for whatever purpose the mysterious gathering served. The rest of the decorations of artwork and statues were purely there to display the wealth of the Crimsonburn family. Sitting in the throne chair, a middle-aged Quel'dorei man gazed out at the crowd of three with his beady, contemplating blue eyes. His complexion was lined with not only age but experience in the thralls of stressful politics. He wore elaborate robes of red and maroon and had his white-blond hair slicked back for the occasion. Lord Norath Crimsonburn glanced to the two men on the couch to his left. The elder of the two—looking not too much older than Norath—had long straight black hair, partially braided to keep his bangs from his face sporting robes of violet and slate-gray. A younger man sported the same hues in attire and hair; however, he had his short and slicked back similar to the Lord of the house. “You have met my wife, Lady Larae Crimsonburn, Lord Velvetlight?” Norath then glanced to the woman on the opposite couch who was meek in appearance with short, curly red hair and gorgeous robes of crimson. He smirked when her matching blue eyes locked with his, only for her to look to the table with discomfort seconds later. It thrilled him to see her so obediently in her place. The raven-haired gentleman raised a dark brow at the Lord of the house. “Indeed. A fetching catch. However, it is your daughter, my son, and I wish to meet.”

“Her tardiness is unorthodox, I assure you. Perhaps, she is nervous about being among such distinguished companies.” Norath replied, his voice icy and uncomfortably calm. Lord Velvetlight simply sighed before reaching forward towards the coffee table. An array of refreshments rested upon the wooden surface, including snacks, tea, coffee, and wine. The guest Lord helped himself to a glass of the latter. A superb Dalarn red; year 450K.C, much before the wondrous city made its floating charge to Northrend. An expensive taste with the delicate bite of a lingering arcanic crisp. Not enough to quell Lord Velvetlight's patience, unfortunately. As if the swelling distaste was the perfect queue, a young elven woman was politely escorted into the room by a servant of the manor. Her short hair matched both the curliness of her mother's and the pale blonde hues of her father's, and just like her parents, the Crimsonburn colours painted her corsetted, victorian gown. The servant didn't stay long and left the young woman to linger awkwardly at the door; her blue eyes glanced to her father's with an apologetic expression. Norath smiled, yet no humour or kindness touched his eyes. “My daughter; Lady Celeste Crimsonburn. What a pleasure for you to have finally indulged us with your presence.” Celeste winced, immediately curtseying before Norath, with her head low, “My apologies, father,” she spoke carefully, turning her attention to the two guests in their home. “I thank you for your patience, my Lords.” Her politeness was useless at this point; she had already disappointed Norath to irreparable levels that night. But, she still had a role in maintaining, lest she made it worse for herself. “Take a seat, Celeste,” Norath instructed cooly. “You remember Lord Velvetlight, don't you?” Truthfully, Celeste did not. However, she forced herself to dig through her memories in an effort not to embarrass herself further. She took a shot in the dark. “You...were a guest speaker at Sunstrider University. You taught a lecture for my Introduction to Political Theory class.” As she spoke, attempting to sound confident in her answer, she sat beside her silent mother. “Ah, so you do remember. Excellent.” Lord Velvetlight looked pleased. “I also met you in your adolescent years, but I do not expect you to remember something eighty years ago.” There was a momentary pause as the Lord took a sip of his wine. “I would like to introduce to you my son, Lord Zan Velvetlight. A proud Magister of Quel'thalas and Scryer under the ranks of Astalor Bloodsworn's trusted Arcanists.” Zan stood to his feet to bow towards Celeste, “A pleasure, my Lady.” Instinctively, Celeste held her hand towards the expecting man, to which he took and placed a gentlemanly kiss upon it. She was used to such gestures with her family's position in the noble hierarchy; however, she could never bring herself to enjoy that flavour of attention. It took everything in her power not to grimace as Zan retook his seat. “The pleasure is mine, Lord Zan.” “Celeste, why don't you elaborate for Lord Velvetlight more about your education,” Norath commented in a thinly veiled order. “Yes, indeed,” Lord Velvetlight began, “I am very interested in hearing more about the daughter Lord Crimsonburn has been raving about.” Celeste rose a brow at the strangeness of the conversation, and she couldn't help but glance at her mother for answers. However, when Larae met her daughter's gaze, her bright eyes glazed over with sadness. For some reason, the woman could not bring herself to speak out of turn and left her daughter to the thralls of confusion. “Right,” Celeste breathed, now looking to Lord Velvetlight—vividly aware of her father's icy gaze boring down on her while she spoke. “I have been studying the economics of the country primarily. Provincial stabilization, governance, representation through the monarchy, and the delicate balance of power and influence.” She took a deep breath, “I hope to follow in my father's footsteps of becoming a member of King Sunstrider's advocates.” This, of course, was an utter lie. “Ah, such high expectations. So much in common with my son.” Lord Velvetlight hummed with satisfaction. Zan spoke to provide context to his father's statement. “I hope to enlist within the Kirin Tor eventually. Put more experience under my belt to either rise further with the Magisters of Quel'thalas or, perhaps, a cozy seat on the council of the Magus Senate.” Arrogance coated his tongue as he spoke a matter of factly. Celeste forced an interested smile to her face and spoke with perfunctory attentiveness. “How do you not burn yourself out from such strenuous tasks?” Zan's ego predictably inflated as he smirked with bottomless pride towards Celeste. “Because I am superior. Other low-lives let opportunities pass them by, while intellectual men must rise to guide this wayward Kingdom. I intend to learn all I can to do so.” Celeste felt her blood run cold as her smile faltered. “Ah—your...father is right about...sharing high ambitions, then. I suppose.” Another lie. She wanted nothing more than to leave both the conversation and company. Norath spoke up once more, “It is as I said, Lord Velvetlight. It would be a flawless arrangement that will benefit both sides of the political spectrum. We must act upon the traditions of the monarchy's system before the ambitious Prince threatens to change the whole thing. What with that Theron whispering in his ear.” “Father, what are you talking about—” Celeste began. “You will speak when you are spoken to.” Norath snapped. Then turning back to Lord Velvetlight, he continued as if the outburst never happened. “What say you?” “Zan?” Lord Velvetlight glanced to his son, asking a vague question Celeste still did not understand the context of. The younger lord gave Celeste a once-over before smirking. “I find it both an excellent strategy and a rather lovely match. I agree to Lord Crimsonburn's proposition if you are inclined to act upon it, father.” Lord Velvetlight smiled. “Then our deal has been settled. The ceremony will be scheduled for the end of the month as planned.” “Perfect.” Norath grinned. “I have already arranged for their housing, as well. A gift for the new family, hm?” Lord Velvetlight chuckled, “So generous, my Lord.” Zan bowed his head, “I generously accept, Lord Crimsonburn.” Norath stood to his feet, and the other two lords followed suit. “A rather short meeting, but I understand you and your son are rather busy this evening.” “It has been a pleasure, Lord Crimsonburn. Till the ceremony, then.” And soon, Celeste was alone in the den with her father. Her mother couldn't bear to be in the room any longer, and she still didn't understand why. Norath gestured his hand silently towards Celeste, allowing her to speak freely. “What was that all about, father?” “We plan on uniting our causes together, Lord Velvetlight and I. The details are none of your concern, but we came up with an ideal way to permanently seal our partnership. A bargaining chip, if you must.” Norath responded as if Celeste's question was foolish. “What was the bargaining chip?” she asked hesitantly. “You, my dear,” Norath said. “You are.” The silence was almost deafening if it wasn't for that rhythmic ticking. “I beg your pardon?” Her voice was almost inaudible. Norath sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ignorant girl. You are to wed Lord Zan. What did you think I meant when I said 'ceremony'?” His blue eyes narrowed at his daughter. Celeste's jaw nearly dropped to the floor; however, she closed it quickly before her father sneered. “Wait,” she breathed, “I just met him. I don't even know him!” “Frankly, my dear, I couldn't care less if you loved him or hated him. This is out of your control.” “You can't make me marry a stranger!” she shouted, standing to her feet. Norath was swifter than Celeste anticipated, and as he stood to his feet as well, the back of his ringed hand made contact with his daughter's cheek with an audible slap. Her face jerked to the side from the force, and her hands immediately went to cup the welt with a shaking whimper. “I can.” Norath towered over his trembling daughter. “Just watch.”

@daily-writing-challenge​ @howlingowl-wra​

[sekhisadventures]

( Artist's rendition of Samantha and Annulus by xHyperwolfx )

Samantha Montebank, Ren'dorei Voidblade

Important Stories:

On a Pale Horse, He Rode: Dragged along to a party by their father, Sam is present in Tranquillen when the Scourge comes to Quel'thalas to claim the Sunwell for their own dark purposes.

Welcome to the Dark Side: When attempting to rob Magister Umbric, Sam comes into contact with a strange crystal and becomes bonded to a being known only as Annulus.

The Void Sees Many Things: With Annulus' help, Sam gets something she has wanted in secret for a very long time.

Race: Void Elf

Class: Rogue, Subtlety

Eye color: Glowing white

Birthplace: Silvermoon City

Residence: Stormwind City, Old Town District, Avalon House

Personal Rune: "Blade in the Shadows"

Abilities:

Larceny: Samantha was a skilled thief even before becoming one of the ren'dorei. She had a talent for minor theft honed as a young elf in Silvermoon City which only grew once she fled during the Scourge's invasion of Quel'thalas. She ran with Hulfdan Blackbeard's gang in Ironforge for years before the sin'dorei formally joined the Horde and she was forced to flee to Kalimdor lest she get arrested as a potential spy. Since then she has only honed her abilities. For some examples of her acquisitions, click here.

Bonded to Annulus: In the early days of the Blood War Samantha became bound to a being of the Void, a bodiless entity known only as Annulus, which transformed her into one of the ren'dorei. Samantha was born with a rare affliction that made her totally unable to use magic of any sort, seen by some sin'dorei as a curse even. Whenever she utilizes her void elf abilities, its actually Annulus using her powers. Annulus is able to allow Samantha to do a sort of short-ranged teleport, guard herself with a layer of Void over her body, and degrade or dispel some enchantments.

Me and My Shadow: After being bonded to Annulus for several years, the void creature has enough of an anchor to Azeroth to manifest a temporary body to assist Samantha. She appears as a shadowy copy of Sam herself and can only remain active for a few moments, long enough to land an attack, but she can generate several bodies if needed in quick succession. These attacks are pure shadow, striking entirely with the power of the void. While they can be blocked with mundane armor, an actual injury to flesh will pour Annulus' voidborn energies into the victim... with all sorts of effects.

Minor Precognition: One of Annulus' most potent abilities is a minor form of precognition. She can see a short distance into the future (a few minutes at most) at any given time and is able to focus her powers to study the threads of fate... though the further into the future she looks the less certain it becomes (and it takes longer to see further.)

Leatherworking: Samantha learned early on in her career in thievery that self-sufficiency is a virtue and too many stops to the leather goods shop for armor repairs tended to raise eyebrows among more law-abiding citizens. She prefers to craft her own equipment these days, and even assists her other leather-wearing allies like Jaie and Shalandrae since her time in the Shadowlands.

History

Sam's story is a rough one to say the least.

Born Sam'ael Wintersky, the child of a powerful and influential Magister in Silvermoon City, they were expected to succeed their father… until their condition came to light.

Among the quel'dorei there is a rare affliction, the condition effecting the elf in question from the moment they're born, where they are unable to use magic at ALL. They are still connected to the Sunwell, they enjoy the benefits of extended life that all of the High Elves have… but they cannot perform any magic whatsoever. Even the most basic household cantrips such as animating a broom are beyond them… and Sam had this condition.

Their father, Danaforth Wintersky, found this unacceptable. A Wintersky without any magical ability whatsoever was a horrible embarrassment for his house, and so came the attempts to… fix… his child.

Quel'dorei mages, apothicaries, churgeons, and the like came to the Wintersky estate in secret (to save their father embarrassment,) then eventually the same from Dalaran as well. Their attempts at treatement ranged from ineffective to invasive, to humiliating, to downright excruicating… and all of them with a zero percent success rate. Sam remained as magical as a brick.

This infuriated the magister, who saw their child as a disgrace. They would either ignore them or abuse them (depending on their mood) which caused Sam to distrust them and hide things from them. They never spoke to their father about anything important to them at all, seeing them as a cruel and hateful man even while the rest of Silvermoon saw them as a hero.

Because of this, Sam also began to act out. It started out small enough, swiping candy and other trinkets… but soon escalated to pickpocketing, shoplifting, and more. They were the child of a powerful magister, they could simply BUY what they wanted, but they needed an outlet for their anger and they found that while they were bereft of magical talents they had fast hands and a cunning mind.

They even managed to steal a real prize, a sapphire pendant and heirloom of House Wintersky, from their equally abusive sister… before it happened. While attending a dinner party in Tranqillien, the Scourge invaded Quel'thalas.

Sam survived by hiding, then fled past the army to the south. Their parents were slain however. Danaforth was stabbed to death by Arthas himself while trying to hold back the Scourge with his magic, their mother torn apart by ghouls when the army reached the city walls (though Sam never learned her fate.)

After fleeing to the south to Dun Morogh they wound up falling in with Hulfdan Blackbeard and his gang of thieves in Ironforge Mountain until shortly after the Dark Portal reopened and the word went out that the elves, now known as the sin'dorei or Blood Elves, had defected to the Horde.

Sam was forced to flee again, this time to Kalimdor… where they remained until the early days of the Blood War almost a decade later. While attempting to rob Stormwind Castle in a bout of overconfidence, they came into contact with the core of a being of the Void known only as Annulus, which changed their life forever…

Trivia

Samantha Montebank is actually based on another character originally from my other work, Supernatural Adventures. The fae prince Samuel Montebank. This character was actually the creation of my real life wife and that story is a collaborative work between the two of us.

Samantha is cannonically transgender (transfem) and was able to transition despite not being able to use magic thanks to the fleshshaping powers of Annulus. As I said in the chapter where she does this, anyone who takes issue with this can kiss the most rotten part of Mola'raum's ass.

Though it hasn't come up in the story yet, Samantha is bisexual as well. Before transitioning she played it straight, but she was so deep in the closet at the time that she'd practically left Azeroth for Narnia.

[thedawnshatters]

Basics of Basics

Larynora Sel'anthis was formerly the young matron of her family before her exile. It was a loveless arranged marriage for political purposes and benefits, but she did enjoy raising a son and teaching him magic before his apprenticeship. When the Sunwell was extinguished that Larynora and other future Ren'dorei started to examine the void as a solution to their problem. Which eventually led to their collective transformation and exile. Larynora now seeks to further her magical and intellectual studies - preferably outside of Telogrus Rift.

((OOC: I'll admit I'm not the best when it comes to elven RP. I know nothing about Kaldorei lore and my Sin'dorei knowledge I learned some alongside a friend when I was still playing Horde. The "son" mentioned in the basic backstory is a nod to my old Blood Elf mage before I faction swapped.))

[duraxxor]

Prelude of Myotis - Finale

Entry 207 - Several weeks had passed since the intriguing rebirth of Oscar, a geist who was like any other until he came into contact with the compound known as Sanguinite. The Sanguinite appears to violently altar one's state based off of what it is they may desire with the cost of their own former will. This is something I wish to avoid considering that I already struggle to hold a grasp upon who I am to start. But the results themselves are rather lovely in all honesty. I feel as though Oscar has become one of my Eyes. He shows a great increase in both strength and intelligence. Yet, his loyalty tethers him to both my own plans and with the assistance of his unholy master, Dathuro Deathcleave. The Sorceress' theory proved to be true on the nature a geist shares with their master. As if I doubted her from the start. The repaired muscle and tissue seems to be quite flexible, perhaps even malleable. Proper test were administered and every result has surpassed all my expectations. But I cannot rest here, not when there is so much more to be done.      

Entry 213 - One of my fellow cohorts I worked alongside within a former organization has willingly taken it upon herself to be my second test. She is a unique specimen not only because she is a living organism, but because this experiment will be a fusion rather than a escalation. Miah Ambershade has decided that Subject Talyn and her cannot exist without one another, which is something even I knew from the start. Oh well, it was worth a shot. Once again, two beings went into the chamber containing the Sanguinite. Unlike the Oscar, who had collapsed onto the floor before his reanimation, both Miah and Talyn held through despite the agonizing symphony they created. Their bodies gave off this illuminating light that appeared to scorch one's sockets with crimson fire. But I even I knew it was from the Light's doing as this was something quite abominable. Even through the practically, air-thin walls, I could feel the aroma of boiling blood tickle my nostrils. Their bodies twisting, perhaps writhing into what appeared to be a miasma. A Miasma? Perhaps that is what I will call her should she live through this experience. 

Entry 214 - Miah and Talyn have successfully fused into what appears to be a feminine being. While there are not any type of issues in both skeletal structure, scorched flesh was evident and quite possibly a given. Subject 2 or Miasma gave me a quick demonstration of her speed and strength. She sprinted down a mile-long network within less than six minutes. When she came across a sealed vault, rather than trying to turn the circular, locking mechanism, she decided to use brute force and ripped the entire vault door from it's hinges. That massive seal was about one thousand pounds. Power came with a price as her muscle structure reestablished itself and hunger began to settle within her abyss. Luckily for her, I gave her the four options: A Sin'dorei, a Ren'dorei, a Kal'dorei, and a Human. She devoured both Sin'dorei and Kal'dorei without so much as a second thought, leaving only a few scraps so the reality could settle within the minds of the latter. She then displayed a sense of pride by tearing the Ren'dorei's bonds and dragging her off to her quarters, leaving the human to rot in his own urine. I know not what she did within her chambers but I cannot help but at least enjoy the amount of thought she placed into her choices. Sadistic and Cruel. My guess is the void elf maiden would likely be a main course for her to take in slowly because of the latent magics. After all, the Sanguinite itself does contain contents of shadow magic within. Let's just hope it doesn't counter balance and turn into some sort of void fiasco. Overall, I'd say another success. 

Entry 217 - I am a man of my word. Benjamin Lewinters would have a means to physical function again. As many know, the former magi's body had began to succumb to decay and his ability to even walk was become quite difficult to maintain. I appreciate his patience with me, as always. And not a moment to soon when I realized that his mind was beginning to deteriorate. Despite what I felt could be a risk, Lewinters volunteered to be the next step in my plans. Willingly taking on the role of Subject 3, a wheelchair was provided so that no risk would be taken against any other individual who remained pure or had already been touched by Sanguinite. For nearly seven minutes, Benjamin stared into the crimson jewel with both fascination and thought. I could see the dim energies of his eyes speaking to both myself and the crystalline substance. " How far have I fallen? " I knew he would always have his doubts but not because I was untrustworthy, but rather because of the reckless history the two of us share. But despite this, the wheels began turning and as I was distracted by a distant memory of the days of the living, he placed his hand upon the substance. Once again, the shimmering light of scarlet heat began to engulf his form, but not in the same manner as the first two. No, this light was calm and gentle with his transformation. Perhaps the Sanguinite's responses were based upon the bidder's emotion? Oscar was a being forged of instability. Miah was a living being seeking a purpose while Talyn sought the power to destroy, but both sought to thrive and survive. But Benjamin's motivations were self-preservation. 

Entry 218 - Something changed in Benjamin's evolution. Rather than having a dramatic spike in regeneration, his bonds of flesh were burned away, all the way to the bone. And as I watched in surprise, I truly thought that something had gone wrong. I quickly activated the mechanism to veil the jewel from sight and tore the double doors wide open with a strong sense of urgency. I had thought that the Sanguinite had robbed him of everything, tearing his flesh and blood all the way to the marrow of his bones. But the energies that coursed through this skeleton proved that death wasn't the affliction. In fact, the bones were carefully placed in a perfected fashion. I called to him and the eyes sockets began to blaze with crimson energies whilst Lewinters as a whole levitated before me. A fume of similarly-colored substance responded with a chilling voice. " Lord Daevara. You mustn't worry so much for me. I have been given exactly what I want. Why rebuild that which burdens me when I can shed my flesh and live as that which I once feared? " A lich. Benjamin Lewinters had chosen to become a Lich of both his and my own design. Once the two of us had time to process this change, Lewinters displayed the ability to create an shrouded illusion of himself much like the portal keeper he normally would portray. He only requested that he be given time to think and research what documents I had. I do hope that this newly awakened lich doesn't have any intent to overthrow me as most would suspect. Perhaps he will be tested by the best Herself. 

Entry 224 - Subjects 1 through 3 appear to be operating at a decent pace. Not signs of any sort of betrayal or even a hint of madness. Oscar trained with his geist brothers and sisters and in the process learned that he could enhance them with his own latent energies. This ability was as enticing as it was threatening due to the nature of the corruption itself. Let us hope that he does not turn into some sort of fiend that seeks to spread his own virus. Miasma remains unchanged other than her strengths enhancing over time. Lewinters had fashioned his own garb for when he wasn't wasting his mana or energies on projecting the illusions of a mortal shell. Yet, Dathuro Deathcleave refuses to partake in any of this. He speaks as if he would rather continue perfecting his works of art within the Blood Forge. Perhaps he isn't as power hungry as Subject 2 or 3? I know Deathcleave, he clings to the old ways of wanting to die in the field of battle. A death that he was robbed of. And I will honor his choice so as long as he continues to craft such beautiful designs for me. And who knows, a time for battle may come sooner than we suspect? 

Entry 225  -  Another has been added to the collection under the same negotiations as Subject 4. However, due to her existence as of being an undead construct, Subject 4 is the remnants of an artificial creation from another tasked with the harvesting of various souls. Wires, threads, and 'electrical' currents, I shall call her Tesla. one could wonder just what exactly drove her to her submissive servitude. Nonetheless, the results have been particularly promising as she follows every order without question. She's the perfect servant and I would see to what exactly her limitations are and will be. A unique development has occurred that she has bound herself to me in such attachments that one cannot help but feel that there is something deep within her that no even she is aware of. I shall monitor her carefully. 

Entry 229 - The time has finally come. After carefully measuring and tampering with the Sanguinite's properties, I believe we have finally done it. To any who read this should I not recover from this experiment, I ask that you do not replicate this compound. For if this plan doesn't work correctly, death may not be the worst thing to happen to this thrice-damned corpse. Not very many are aware of the segregated substance I have added to it. A single strand of purified-hair of Hir'eek. If you are not familiar with troll lore, that is the Bat Loa who was worshipped by trolls as the Midnight Sky. A single strand of hair can contain many latent energies known as mojo. Of course, this substance had to be tested for impurities due to the loa's corruption through G'huun. Something I would rather not repeat. Either way, if anyone aside from myself is reading this without my permission, I have either died or gone completely mad. 

It was the eve of the new year, and Mr. Myotis had finally finished all of the necessary preparations. Miasma had successfully kidnapped and obtained the lord's former wife after a long period of time. To his dismay, Telondra Daevara was nothing more than a broken husk of what she once was, filled in by the void energies that the Ren'dorei clung to. And while it made the monster sick to his stomach upon how pathetic is truly was, there was a humanity in him that reared it's ancient skull. An old compassion for his first wife that was not long for this world. How he had wished that she had come sooner than later. How she did not bare the insidious mark that plagued his family bloodline. Why couldn't things be different? Why did the path always seem to tread down the means of cutting individuals down to put them out of their own misery?

Despite all of this, the Faceless could not dwell on such trivialities. No, he had to lead this prospering organization with strengthened resolve. He wasn't alone anymore and had to accept such things. Two servants directly bound to him that he had dubbed Miasma and Tesla. Miasma had bore him the fruits loyalty and lessons that he himself had to relearn through concrete thought. Meanwhile, Tesla provided him as a servant who would do his bidding without question as to what or who it benefitted most. To him, Duraxxor Daevara was a god amongst monsters. The two creations contrasted quite differently in identity that he could not help the bemusement that swelled within him as he tread down the halls of his secret hideaway. He had told Miasma (Miah) that he was heading to his coffin for a dark meditation. But one could not rest after what had transpired in the past several days. So many wonderous possibilities that were weaved within the mind. And yet, the same word still hung in the ceiling of his cranium much like the avian nightwing. 

Evolution. 

Stripped of his armor, Duraxxor stepped through the doorway that seethed with the energies of the malevolent void. A shroud covered the entire torso as he left nothing more than pant leg upon his body. Crimson eyes peered around the incoming room as technologies of a vast variety beeped and hummed with the electrical machinations of a engineer's work. A laboratory that carried the various scent of putrid chemical beakers that stung mortal nostrils with disgust. Chemical equations and schematics veiled the paint job of the walls as critical thinking was clearly applied in this specific area. But who could have done such a thing?

" Ah, Mr. Daevara. I wasn't expect you to be back so soon after our little... meeting. " A violet-haired elf peered through his safety goggles without a single care in he world. Gloved fingers adjusted a nearby microscope as he examined a dark red substance beneath the sample. " You've come just in time, I was just examining the Hir'eek sample you had delivered to me. " The violet tresses trailed down his spine with a hint of red behind the dominate sheen, hinting that the Ren'dorei was original a crimson-haired fox. A lab coat stained with various colors delicately hung over the back of his spinning chair. Thoughtful humming continued as his void-tainted orbs bore witness to cellular acceptance. Duraxxor spared no pleasantries as he cared little for idle chit-chat when progress was in the making. " And, what have you found? Is it compatible? Or am I wasting my time? " The white-haired devil stood there as his own stare looked to the microscope, as if he could feel each cell within the sample writhe like a worm in an aquatic puddle. 

The void elf pulled his visions from the studies so that he could look upon the monster he was quite familiar with. " Not even a playful retort? I trust that your evening hasn't been the most pleasant of memories, aye? Well, luckily for you, you have Dr. Solexstras Sunflare as your physician this evening. " A balled fist was brought to contain the clearing of his throat from extending any further. " It took some time but yes, the compound infused with the samples you provided has shown to prove that you and the DNA are able to adapt and meld together. " Crimson beads stared into the doctor's with narrowed vision, hinting at some form of paranoia that sought to see that he possessed little to no doubt in his own mind. " And will they consume a vessel? Because the last thing I want is to no longer possess a will of my own because something went wrong, Doctor... " The ragged tone of his voice only added to the amount of anger he would possess if something were to go wrong. 

Dr. Sunflare's features seemed to hesitate from the piercing gaze that Daevara was notorious for drilling into the souls of those that were weakened over time. " The drawback is that if you take everything in at once, it very well could inevitably mutate your own cellular code. While yes, you are a creature of the undead, mutation and even some form of decay isn't an impossibility. Any type of flesh matter can be manipulated, that is why necromancy has become a practice derived from the Shadowlands itself. "  Hopping down from his chair, light feet strolled onward towards a certain machine that contained a set of opening doors within. The idle beeping as he began to punch in a numerical code slowly brought the entryway to click, causing said doors to open and reveal four crystalline shards that hummed with crimson concentration. Each one was large enough to fit within the palm an average sized hand perfectly. " Through the process of cryomancy and hemomancy, you have provided me with enough specimens to filter out and readjust the chemical compound without removing the threads of energy that lay dormant within. Luckily for you, I possess a collection of soul shards to empower the rituals necessary for such a thing. Now then, my advise is to take one of these every three days so that your body can adjust to the changes slowly. " 

Impatience began to settle within Dura's features while the wrinkles of caution began to dominate his expression. " I understand what you are saying. Last thing I want to do is overload myself and fall into pieces. I have quite the group that would be most unpleased if I was to... fuck myself over. " A faint laugh was given as he removed the shroud that wrapped around his shirtless form. Stone-colored skin marked by the testaments of his own personal trials reflected the various lights within the room. Darkened veins pulsed with the magics and essence that he had drained to insure his self-preservation. 

The Doctor had never seen him without some form of armor veiled over his body and could not help but approach more thoroughly on the matter. " You've been busy, I see. When you said that you devoured more than just blood, I'll admit I couldn't take you seriously... but now I see that you harbor... power. " The last word was uttered in a feather-soft tone. Nervousness enveloped the normally well-poised doctor as he understand that any sort of trouble that would merit to a true threat to his grand design. Hands fidgeted as he proceeded to pull a hidden drawer underneath the protective display. The energies sizzled and static streaked towards the thick glass in response to the nearby familiar that possessed similar magics within him. The Doctor rose up and presented him with a metallic box, offering it to the Myotis with care. " Tread lightly, Mr. Daevara, crush the stone when you are ready and do try not to exhaust yourself. Return to me when the seventy-two hours is up. " He bowed his head as Daevara took the box. " There is a chamber you may use before you leave. " A swift gesture towards the doorway with only one way out. 

Slowly, Duraxxor took the offered box and with a nod, he traveled to the nearby chamber, shutting the door behind him. However, just because the door was the only entryway did not mean that the Doctor could not monitor him from the outside. A camera's image was brought up on an interface. A blank room created for nothing more than containment of raw energies and instabilities. Dura would've been lying if he didn't possess some sort of nervousness about his mind. All he could think about was how much a change like this may affect him. So many people to consider in the moment. " Miah... Malice... Ryssa... Teremath... Caine... Luminarra... Malakortana... " Their names were uttered within his mind as well as the images of the memories that were forged in this twelve month period that was about to come to an end. A single hand was placed upon the top of the box as he hesitantly grasped upon the clasps, snapping each with delicate care. 

A batling suddenly flapped it's way into the room from a ventilation shaft, landing carefully upon the Doctor's shoulder with a chittering. Violet eyes looked towards the avian creature with care as he provided a single finger to brush across the messenger that bore a note between his little toes. " I know, you are nervous for daddy, aren't you? He's going to be just fine... " The soothing voice of the void-tainted played across the batlings ears as his vision stared into the bright screen with a wince. 

" If all truly accept me for the choices that I make, then let this New Year but the year that I, Duraxxor Daevara, will have his vengeance and the world will know of the name... Myotis! " The words were shouted, like a dark incantation to a spell that would be cast, enveloping his resolve as he tore open the lid to reveal the catalyst that would begin his journey anew. The various wounds seeped with blackened, vaporous tendrils of his own essence sought to place their grasp upon the prized jewel within. A crimson ruby that seethed with the same radioactivity as it's siblings of creation. Duraxxor's left hand grasped as his own goals and motivations strengthened his will. " Give me the power... of evolution! " One final shout was made as he clutched the sparking substance. A scarlet mist began to expel from within as a brilliance of the same hue hummed with vibration. The faint sound of shrieking was heard as the energies placed in it's creation was released, sending electrical pulses directly into the man's arm as he clutched desperately to keep his grip upon it. The gritting of fanged teeth noted the struggle as it brought him to his knees. Now he understood exactly why the doctor had warned him with caution to only take so much at a time. The size disguised the potency within. Both hands now clutched it towards the Myotis' hearth now as he the solidified source slowly and painfully seeped into his flesh. 

The black smog of energies violently spewed from his form as he felt his own flesh begin to change and adapt to the substance he was taking in. This wasn't just raw energy that one could suckle on. No, this was the essence of a powerful being that identified as a patron deity to some. Despite the amount, Hir'eek's chittering voice could be heard within his ears as one by one, deceased cells felt something latch upon them, birthing a hybridized state of unlife. The crystal had been completely absorbed into his being but the changes continued. The sharpened talons landed onto the ground as he stood on all fours. A violent spasm in each and every muscle as he felt the manipulation of his skeletal structure begin to change within his spine. A series of pops and cracks as shoulder blades began to extended past the flesh. A instant rip and tear unveiled a pair of large, skeletal wings that began were covered in a bright, crimson essence. Such a painful sight forced a bellow of pain from within the now shining creature that could feel other changes taking place. An opening of his eyes brought about a thought to renew the shifting resolve. " Not yet... I mustn't... give... in! " This shout brought about the reconquering of his physical shell so that no other bodily changes would take place. The wings had been enough to suffice as he did not want to lose himself in the moment. Talons dug along the metals as the pulsing energies began to dim, placed within the inner recesses of his own reserves for later. 

And so, Duraxxor arose. A new set of wings lay upon his shoulders as their flesh began to regenerate with the threads of lifeblood to fuel such a drastic change that took place. The winged harbinger of Myotis panted unendingly from the amount of toll that such a thing took upon his body. The raw magics had left a blemish upon his chest that still steam with the searing of flesh in the shape of a jagged 'M'. Slowly but sure, he made his way towards the doorway, limping in the process. 

Before he even had a chance to touch the knob, the Doctor immediately had himself full covered and prepared for the potential energies that may leak out and seek to corrupt another. Both hands, despite his lack of physical strength attempted to hold him up so that he did not fall. " Mr. Daevara... How are you feeling? " The hazard suited figure questioned whether or not he was alright, wondering if he was even there anymore.

A fang-filled grin slowly blossomed on the dark individuals features. The winged cloak that had finally finished it's work soon retracted back into his flesh as a means to provide secrecy. A crimson stare was afforded as he looked towards the doctor before gesturing his sight to his winged messenger that bore a message for him to take into his palm. " That was... one hell of a show... what have you got there for me... little one? " Careful to not bring harm to his bat child, he took the note carefully and opened it up to read it's contents. The eyes of the creature scanned each and every line before the smiling expression began disappear. A rumbling growl was the only indication that he was most unpleased about the choices made in the way this note was written to him. " If you will excuse me, Doctor. I have business that needs my attention... " Stabilizing his body now, he would hobble his way towards the door with the batling a fluttering beside him. 

The doctor quickly began to retort to his dismissal. " Not even a thank you. The least you could do is give it five extra minutes before you go rushing off! " Despite his protests, the Doctor knew it was useless when it came to Daevara's own stubbornness. In fact, the Myotis was already out the door with a resolve that would reach new levels. " Why do I even bother... Shadows protect you, Mister Myotis. " 

[ mentions big or small: @sanguinesorceress @miah-ambershade @blacksorrow-wra @ryssa-ravensdawn @swiper-lussy @igniting-the-dawn @hollow-shadow-puppet ]

[ also tagging for guild relevancy: @onyxwra @kira-seastar @gravekeeper-anna and @the-golden-flash-blog​ ]

[devsash]

Through the Darkness - Part 3

Mariner's Row, Boralus

"No!" Mehe shouted. The whispers roared in his ears as he slashed at the tendril before whirling back to stab at one of the men reaching for him.

The shadows... take their shadows.

He grimaced at the voices. They were so loud here, with all the Void magic saturating the air. Ducking under a sword sweeping towards his head, he swiped his dagger at a hand grasping his thigh before looking up frantically for his mate.

Both Anas and the tidesage were nowhere to be seen. A faint purple shimmer was all that remained where they stood.

A wordless bellow of rage tore from Mehe's lips. The whispers eagerly clamoured closer in the back of his mind.

Take their shadows. Make them pay!

He flung a hand out at the closest guard. The Void's raw chaotic power crashed through him like a tidal wave.

The human froze, his face paling. He fell to his knees, panting harshly as his shadow stretched towards Mehe. The other guards paused uncertainly, watching as the man's shadow ripped free and he collapsed with a final shuddering breath.

The darkness slammed into Mehe, flooding him with euphoric power. Void energy seeped from his skin, coalescing into bladelike projections that unfurled from his back. They spread wide like wings of the purest, blackest night, so disorientingly dark, it was as if reality itself had been cut away. His tendrils uncoiled from his arms to writhe joyously at the magic coursing through his veins. He had never felt this strong, this alive.

Yes. The voices were exultant. They will fear you now!

Mehe straightened, the daggers in his hands shifting into a sword. He had never managed anything more than the smaller blades without help before, but this strange power within him made it effortless. His eyes narrowed at the remaining guards. They were mere insects compared to what he wielded.

Take their shadows as well, the whispers urged. Become what you were destined to be!

A predatory smile curved his lips. He darted towards the terrified group of humans faster than the eye could follow. He was one with the Void, he was unstoppable.

Their shadows on the pavement promised so much more power. He reached out, clamping his Void-darkened hand over them. The humans froze at once, caught in his grasp like helpless beetles. One of them made a muffled sound of fear from between tightly shut lips.

Mehe ignored it. He started draw the shadows into himself... only to hesitate.

This... this was not right.

His mind struggled to think through the ecstacy permeating his entire being.

The Void... If he followed the whispers... If he lost himself to them, it would break his mind and change him. He would never again be the man that Anas fell in love with.

Anas...

Growling in the back of his throat, he fought the whispered enticing promises. Instead, he drew strength from the thought of his mate and concentrated, forcing the energy within him to flow to the tip of his taloned finger. Raising his hand, he whipped the talon downwards in a swift vertical motion, tearing through the very fabric of existence.

The energy flowed out of him into a growing Void portal, leaving him drained but sober. His skin returned to its usual pale tone, the black bladelike projections vanishing.

Freed from his grip, the nearest guard gaped at the rift in shock. Mehe backhanded him hard before kicking him through the rip. He pirouetted out of the way of another guard charging at him. She went right into the portal after the first.

Their shadows! You could crush them all!

"No! Anas!" Mehe yelled over the voices in his head, trying to down them out.

A guard tackled him to the ground, followed quickly by another, piling on top of him.

He struggled to slip free but their weight bearing down upon him made it impossible.

Another guard approached him as he fought to get out from under the bodies. Her gaze was ice as she raised her sword over her head.

A dagger flew out of the portal, embedding itself in her throat. The human's eyes went wide, the sword falling from her fingers.

The other guards atop Mehe glanced up as a figure leaped out from the portal. Red hair flashed as more daggers flew from its hands. Within moments, all the guards were either dead or dying.

Mehe shoved his way out from under the guards and sat up, panting.

His saviour was standing with his back towards him. The man’s feet were apart, a dagger gleaming in each hand as his head turned form side to side, scanning the path for more hidden assailants. Those pointed ears... it was a Quel'dorei or a Sin'dorei man. His red hair was flecked with grey strands, which meant he had to be a few centuries older than Mehe at least.

"Ama noral'zaram," the man murmured in Thalassian, his daggers disappearing up his sleeves. Saved by the blade.

"Indeed." Mehe climbed to his feet, grimacing at the aches and pains from the fight. "Thank you, malanore. I--" The rest of his words died on his tongue as the man turned to face him.

He was Sin'dorei, one with golden eyes that shone with the power of the Sunwell. But for the grey in his hair, his face and everything else about him was the spitting image of Mehe before his transformation.

"Who... who are you?" Mehe whispered, stunned.

The Sin'dorei eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you?" he demanded before glancing around. "This is Boralus, isn't it? Why have you summoned me here?"

Mehe shook his head. "I didn't summon you. I just opened a--" He glanced at the portal, which was already closing up as the threads of reality reasserted themselves.

The Sin'dorei who looked exactly like himself watched the portal disappear through narrowed eyes. "So that was an accident? No matter, I had to come anyway. Especially when there's a name I've not heard in a very long time." He looked around before his golden gaze settled back on Mehe. "Tell me, Ren'dorei. Did someone call out for... Anas?"