#plus the Inquisitor and the Agent already have plenty experience with voices and shit in their heads

[captainmortuem]

Debating whether or not writing a little crossover fic putting my SWTOR OCs in Baldur's Gate would be a good idea. It could be fun taking two (semi) competent figures and throwing them in a fantasy setting where they would know nothing about nothing.

[the-house-of-the-nine]

The Void Forge: The Beginning Part 4

In a fresh memory we begin. . .

“I remember when I was learning to bend the void around me.  I remember the feeling I had inhaling the vapor that collected after a successful explosion; and feeling so invigorated, so mesmerized, so unstoppable.  At peace with myself for once, calming my mind, and showing the potential of my abilities.  There was something so enticing about being able to control particles. . . matter, space. . .create something from nothing simply by bending your mind.”  The words of the Inquisitor were being spoke across the memory of the newest apprentice to order.  Someone who had been no only successfully integrated but was being taught by the collective minds of the himself, the Speaker, and Confessor all together. 

“I am afraid, were you. . . is this normal?. . .”  Rayne said nervously in response to his demonstration.

“We all experience this differently, what is certain is that your fear will consume you, render you useless, cripple you even, unless you control it and adapt. . .it is a good reminder though, it means you realize the potential here, and you’ll have respect toward the dangers you soon will face.” he replied trailing into silence.

Silence that regained the moment before them. . .

Emptiness followed and a calmness struck the Alterac Mountain range after the dust had settled.  After the voices of terrified men had ceased, after the act of murder had subsided.  Multiple pairs of eyes watched in horror at the sight that befell them, this was not out of the ordinary for Lazarius or the order; but something such as this could not hardly be passed over without acknowledgement.

Verzatea Duskflame, Sennaris Dal’Talah and Rayne Floralis, all stood on the cliff edge peering down on the Inquisitor below them; having just witnessed him wipe out the ambush party of dark iron dwarfs with the magic they’d all contributed.  It was this act of cruelty and malice that would have caused so many others to go fleeing.  Or perhaps leave out of pure disgust.  Others may have seen these actions to be heinous and horrible; aiming to find a way to have this lunatic put in the stockade, tired and hung.  Most people would have done this, and probably should have.  But it seemed these actions only caused a mild blip on the radar of the council members.  All save for one.  One who was still quite new at all of this.  The gentle girl being only weeks, if only days into her training with them.  And already called into duty to serve in a master coup.

“He killed them. . .” Rayne stuttered softly with wide eyes.  Her mouth almost gaping open having witnessed the scene first hand. “H-he j-just killed them all. . .without even so much as a warning.”

Verzatea said nothing, the enchanting figure of her lithe frame simply being dusted off with a nonchalant feathering of her gloved fingertips along the edges of her gown.  She was not at all phased by this, nor did it seem terribly unfitting for her to quite literally brush it off.

“M-miss Duskflame. . .I knew we were-” Rayne began but would be silenced as the curt tone of the Confessor charged through.

“We were here to do one thing Miss Floralis.  The Inquisitor made his plan quite clear to us when we arrived here, and it is not your place; nor be it mine, to question his decisions lest they prove to damage our order.”  Verzatea exclaimed as she peered toward the young woman with a pair of burning viridian eyes. “We were charged with providing the means to complete this plan. . .that is why we are here.”

“B-but I . . .” Rayne had started once more, only to feel a soft hand press against her shoulder blade.

“It is our mission to ensure that the will of our masters, our Inquisitor and the order thrive.  We are the heart that allows the blood to flow to all extremities, we do as we are asked.”  Sennaris had been there to comfort the girl, offering her a gentle smile. “Do not think of these men as they were.  Think only of them as they are. . . A threat to our survival and it has been neutralized.”

Verzatea would casually motion toward the Serpents Apprentice with a delicate, yet almost limp wristed point.  Her actions more fluid like, as she was quite the soft spoken; and rather graceful type.  Her motions then allowed her to saunter toward the edge.  Her burning orbs trained on the man below, her Inquisitor.  Noting his survival, and apparent success made her rather pleased.  A half cracked smile. She had made it perfectly clear that her mind, body and soul were his to command, yet secretly; deep down inside she knew she enjoyed this type of torment as much as he did.

In the valley below, Lazarius remained standing quite still.  Long thin strands of black hair would cascade across his broken smile.  Small beads of sweat running down his brow causing the tendrils to stick against the flesh like small vines growing on a cliff side.  His eyelids were shut, allowing the warmth of the sun above to just gently cause the slightest bit of heat to burn across his pale skin.  Yet, it would quickly be cut down by the cold breeze, it was still refreshing.  All around him the trace of the ambush and whatever else had come to pass, was all but gone.  Even the damage caused by the sphere of gravitational energy would have cleaned up after itself, leaving not a trace they’d been here.  Save for the small stain on the ground that would soon be covered over by the snow once it fell later that evening.

Jet black eyes slowly cracked the seal on his closed eyelids like an obsidian sun slowly rising over the horizon.  Beaded, snake like orbs taking in the sunlight without needed to be adjusted.  His peering gaze settling on the silence and calm around him.  It was only broken by the instantaneous cloud of white smoke that appeared from the nearby outcrop in the cliff face.  The vapor which soon blanketed the little area he stood would belong to the gilnean steward who was returning with their quarry. Kross still had Brox in an arm bar with a blade to his neck.  When they’d come out into the open, he was released and shoved forward.

It was about this time that the tribunal of women had descended from the heights above like angels falling from the heavens.  They would gracefully touch down thanks in large part to the levitation spell provided by the gentle serpents apprentice.  Despite her dark ways, the clever girl still held quite a fancy toward more conventional and practical magics.  Lazarius noted their return with a nod, before the group of five had quickly surrounded the dwarf.  Silence was the mantra they took.  None were speaking, as if a building tension was about to break.

“Why tha fuck did yah have tah twist mah shoulder so ‘ard Kross, yah sodden cunt. . .” Brox wasted absolutely no time as he cut through the heavy air with his knife of a tongue. “Tha’s mah drinkin’ arm. . .”

The old admiral only scoffed at the comment, sheathing his blade and peering down at the dark iron. “It was no holiday for me that is certain, Mister Sulfin. . . it will take weeks to remove the stench of piss and cheap beer from my suit.”

“An’ sausage. . . ah’ve been eatin’ quite a lot o’ tha. . .”  roared the filthy dwarf with a curdling laugh and knee slapping squawk.

“Wait. . . we weren’t trying to kill him, I thought he was double crossing us?” The confused student; Rayne quickly broke the dialog as she pointed to the short man. “We’re here to kill him and his men, why is he alive?”

“O’course yah did lass! Tha’s why they call meh Brox tha amazin’. . .” Brox jabbered with a portly waddle turn in her direction. “Ah’m a natural born therapi. . .no, ah. . .thespi, no. . . lesbia. . .Oh yah know whatevah yah call them stage folk!”

“Nobody calls you that. . .” snapped the serpent with a dry tone, as he continued to elaborate to his newest apostle.  “Despite our disgruntled little double agent here being as charming as a stale loaf of bread, he is in fact correct. . .” Lazarius exclaimed as he would begin to clarify. “There were three fronts to this small excursion, first and foremost was to recruit the dim witted and ever deceiving master of kodo bull shit here on our side. . .”

“An’ don’cha be forgettin’ andsome. . . oh an’ fearless. . .an’ cunnin’. . .an’”

“Yes yes, there are plenty of words to describe you, Brox. . .we needed to bring connections back into Stormwind by drawing out a few hooligans who belong to Dargon Blackiron.” continued the Inquisitor.

“Dargon Blackiron, the man from that Blackguard captive’s story you told us about in the library?” Rayne asked, seeming to begin connecting the dots.

“The very same.  With him being in hiding and his squad of goons rampaging around the city doing his bidding we needed a way to draw him out.” Verzatea had continued as Lazarius watched on. “By contacting Brox we knew it would easily give him access to his network.  And with the help of The Speaker; Lady Shadowweave, we were able to learn of nearly all the details necessary to make this complete.

“So all of this to lure him?” Rayne said softly once more.

“All of this to do two things.  Eliminate Brox’s competition in the market for artifacts that we will be shipping through the Explorers Guild.  And draw out the man who currently knows exactly where I am going to find the Mogu artifacts that I need.” Lazarius responded rather quickly.

“Speakin’ of. . . fifty percent still sounds like ah reasonable offer if yah ask meh.” said the dwarf as he chuckled.

“I believe the initial offer of thirty five, with the elimination of nearly all of your competition is more than enough compensation for you to continue living off of what was it; beer and sausage?” Exclaimed the very calm Inquisitor, it seemed apparent that his earlier riling was just for show.

The dwarf scoffed as his pudgy arms curled up against his chest while he turned to exit the circle that surrounded him.  He was clearly not going to win the battle against the dark inquisitor and rather than try and extort him for more; he’d begin wandering.  Fact of the matter was, the deal he’d been given was actually a ten percent increase plus his competitors were all but gone; not too bad.

“Master are you alright?”  Sennaris; the prime apprentice of Lazarius would seem to be acting out of the ordinary with such a comment.  But this was her nature; she lived to serve.  Her life was not only owed to his kindness for the years spent with him, but truly the woman cared to his well being.  She had learned to defend herself for starters, and control the void as he did.  She was indebted to his teachings.  But her concern was genuine; and after such an ordeal warranted to assure he was safe.

The Inquisitor would nod his head to ensure her that he was just fine.  Despite the event that had just transpired.  His hand slowly reached upward and tucked in against the curve of her jawline.  He would give her a caress and complete his gesture with a gentle stroke of his thumb against her cheek bone.  The smile; all be it odd to see him in such high spirits, was enough of an answer.  He was pleased with the outcome.

“So now what. . . Inquisitor?” Rayne boldly stated, interrupting the silence.

“We wait of course. . .” he replied, moving himself toward a large boulder in the pass that would be used as a seat to allow him to rest for the time being.

“Wait. . . for what, it is not your method to wait for anything Inquisitor.” Verzatea said with some margin of accuracy.  Lazarius was terribly impatient.

“Phase three. . . “ he’d respond, letting his back ease against the stone face of the mountain side. “All in due time, remember what you said. . . patience.”

Sennaris gently moved her position from where they were, to a point closer to the dark master who was resting.  She was not simply there in order to move closer to him, but in fact to do something remarkable.  Her body knelt down with knees pressing down into the tundra of the pass.  It was a combined mixture of hard permafrost and rocky soil.  It would serve well.  Her fingers would straighten as she pressed both middle and index out straight; and began to scribe into the earth with them.  Not exactly using her fingers, but the tips to burn a voided magical entry into the ground. 

The line she drew would ultimately hover for a brief moment.  Her hands reaching out and gripping the ends to begin extending it, pulling it every which way as she forged a scene before the watchful eye of the Inquisitor.  Rayne could not help be feel a sense of urgency here to watch, after all; this woman had spent nearly two full years under his tutelage, she was prided as his prime.  Sennaris managed a flat blanket of outstretched energies enveloping the cold stones below with a voided shadow.  Her hands then swept across the surface, fingers pulling and prodding against the buoyant material.  Rayne watched carefully with a burning interest as the woman started forging something interesting.  There on the earth was an exact replica of the coastline, a birds eye view of the landscape, the waterways, even the small hamlet of Southshore than was overrun by the Forsaken. 

“What is this?” she asked the woman, gazing up with a burning curiosity.

Sennaris replied in a rather soft tone, her own vibrant green hues flashing with a purple mist. “Our eyes.  This is how we shall see our path.”

“Are those. . . boats on fire, bodies. . .How are you. . . where is this?” Rayne said with a bit of whimsical interest.

Brox scoffed and let out a snort as he heard the two women prattling on. “Yah know real eyes work just tha’ same.”  The dwarf pursed his lips together and made a sharp whistle.  Thus indicating to the party behind him that something was a foot, but also perhaps to signify whatever was happening of their presence.

Sure enough, only moments later two figures came marching up the pathway.  One was mysterious, with leathery skin; clear due to his lack of armor, with two protruding bull horns that would force their way up from his browline and arch backward, this and other features that would no doubt mark him as a creature once belonging to the Illidari.  Yet it was interesting that now he was using his glaives for a different purpose.  The man was trailing behind another person though, one that stood out a bit more than the other. 

It was Pyravari, she was carrying her sword in one hand as it rested over the top of her shoulder, dripping trails of red along the path only to be cleaned up by the cold chill that followed behind her.  The ice would seem to be all she needed, her tracks, her trails of blood. . . clearly in command of it as they vanished.  It was this ebony haired nightmare that caused the black boiling blood of the Inquisitor to awaken from his slumber.   She was holding a large clear flask shaped bottle in the other hand, and as she walked; blood splattered, and clearly either invigorated or exhausted, she threw back mouthfuls of the brown liquor. 

The dark lord leaning forward to meet her as she grew closer.  His ebony eyes narrowed from the heavy sunlight overcasting a hue around them from all the nearby snow.  She was a mess.  Blood across her armor and face, blade marks that were fresh, a bullet wound, and whatever the hell that was; maybe someones spleen?  She and her blind associate would trudge through the snow marching right up to the Inquisitor and holding moments later.

“Well?”  he said, looking up at them while resting his elbows against his knees.  His open hand then swept across the scene to display the image Sennaris had created for them.  The scene which she would notice.  Boats burning, bodies laying across the shore.

“Dear brother. . .surely you do not doubt the Harbinger?” exclaimed the echoing frozen voice of his twin. The airways would be blasted by the sound of a cawing raven, as it swept overheard and landed on a nearby cliff edge just over the steward and dwarf below.

Lazarius turned and nodded at Sennaris, who in turn would begin destroying the vision she’d created.  Instructing Rayne in a silent explanation of how and why, to help aid the girl understand what she was doing.

“I would never doubt your ability to cause havoc, sweet sister.” Lazarius said with a cunning narrowed glance. “Though a bit excessive. . .weren’t you?”

“Never, those who were eviscerated gave me dirty looks, they were first.”  She exclaimed. “The ones that were beheaded were for good measure. The rest soon fell into line as I cut a swath through them.”

“I was talking about the pikes and disembowelment.” replied the dark lord as he grew very silent with a narrowed gaze.

“Eh. . . that was me. . .”  answered the lizard scaled male in a scratchy voice, his glaives returned to their clips on his back while his palms pressed firmly against his hips.

Pyravari responded by outing the man, pointing directly at him with an outstretched finger.

“Get this fuckin’ bird away from me eyes!” Brox yelled cutting the tension.

“Peck them out, maybe then he’ll stop trying to undress me in his mind.” hissed Verzatea who was still nearby.

“Ya thin’ tha’s gonna stop meh!” cried the dwarf as Guntram continued to squawk overhead, the fat stubby arms would never reach the fluttering bird.

The trio continued to yell at one another, the Confessor, the blighter and the bird, while Kross remained silent nearby. 

Lazarius had been silent for the moment, just watching the demon shift his weight.  Clearly he was not ashamed of his actions, proud if anything, and he waited there in his cocky stance behind the Harbinger.

“Well done. . .” he finally answered, giving the man a nod.

“Fuck. . . “ said the demon, giving a sigh of relief. “Wait what, Really? . . here I thought you might be pissed.  You look pissed, actually it may just be how you look. . .”

Though not amused; Lazarius gave a small snort as he hissed another response. “It was a good touch, dwarven ships and traders. . . impaled and beheaded near the town of Southshore on Horde pikes. . . it looks like a battle to reclaim the hamlet. . . very well thought out, keeps our trail clean.”

“Oh yah well, that was all Vari here, boss. . .” chimed the blind assailent with a laugh, giving her a sharp slap on the back from behind her. “All her idea, totally her idea from the get go. . .we landed on the shore and she said exactly that. . .nearly word for word. . .”

“No she didn’t. . . “ Lazarius responded in a dead pan, straight faced, and almost comedic fashion as he stood and stretched his back. “It was a good touch regardless.”

The demon mouthed a simple. “I tried. . .” to the lich fire woman, smirking and rolling his shoulder.

“That will be all. . . Koltun. . .”  she said, trying to at least present herself as a “professional”, it was hard with him around.  But once the demon would move to perch on a boulder, she would be free to speak to her brother in private. “Did you have any problems here?”

Lazarius shook his head with a confident stance.  He would peer between his associates and smile, making a motion toward his twin. “Nothing prohibited us. . . Brox is free to continue moving our shipments without hassle, the competition is dead, we’ve successfully annihilated any and all involvement of Blackiron, and his fleet for transporting his mercenaries is burning into the ocean as we speak. . . “

“A success then on all fronts.”  Pyravari exclaimed with a puffing of her chest and straightening of her spine.

“Indeed, everything is falling into place for the final push.  Asphodel will have information on what Dargon will be doing in Stormwind when the announcement of his fleet and men being wiped out reaches him, this will prompt our next stage. . . Kross will intercept and return him to the Manor for interrogation. . . and when all of our pieces have been set before us. . .we will push into Grim Batol and locate the hidden Mogu artifacts. . .” Lazarius concluded as he nodded to his sister.

“And then?” she poised, giving him a look for guidance.

He would not respond though, it was a returned glance of confidence.  A stern look toward her, as if saying not to worry, he would guide them. 

And so, the Nine stood in that mountain pass.  Enjoying the success of their ventures and the time they’d been given; for now, to enjoy their company.  Clearly they were building toward something.  Soon the trials of the mountain would test them.  Soon the next phase of their plan would begin.  Soon. . .

To be continued. . .

@lyvraynefloralis, @profound-amateur, @pyravari, @corrupted-priestess