#so she came to call wrathion incompetent while relying on his help

[warwaged-archive]

@terraforged // WRATHION.

It had not been time enough since her last visit. Far from it, truly, matter of days that it was (and days amounted to naught to one who had seen millennia pass). Too brief, too few, too short, the blink of an eye truly, and Nalice finds herself all the more irritable due to it; or so she tells herself, that irascibility is all matter of her feelings, all her own and not caused by external forces, persistent in their pestering as they had grown to be after realizing she did not intend to heed them at all. 

Her disembodied companions were not content that she would have them shut out, and for that in the least she was content, tiniest bit of annoyance she could cause them in return. 

Journals had been filled as instructed, if minimalist in manner she had done so, and more scarce as days had past, as they had since she first sought him out. What was strictly important --- how the voices affected her --- had been noted with as much detail as to how as she felt comfortable in sharing, which meant not much detail at all beyond intensity with which she heard them and if they were few or many. They were in her head, after all; what they prodded at was no less than her every thought, and sooner she would be driven insane than to give Wrathion more domain over her than he already acquired.

Not true, not at all. You go to him even now, returning to your master like a dog on a leash. Protesting doesn’t change the truth of it; he has all the power and you none, and we could give it to you, if only you would let us help.

Scoffs at apparently nothing while descending to very same lair she had barged in last time. Do you think to fool me with sweetened words? I’m no foolish mortal to bend so easily. Situation may not have grown as dire as it had been when she finally gave in and sought out the Black Prince, but Nalice knew better than to wait for it to happen (’twas not far, truly, the blabbering already seeking to pull her towards multiple directions until she begun ripping herself apart).  She had refused to come until they begun to interfere with her basic living, ruining her focus and ability to be capable hunter. In turn, hunger only made her more desperate and their interference easier, vicious cycle she would see broken now.

Hesitates before changing into mortal guise she had worn each time she had dealt with Wrathion; the true mortals gives her pause. His Blacktalons (so many of them around, safeguarding their employer; out of sight they may be, but she could smell them easily enough) might make for an easy enough meal, close as they were. Mortals are far from being a favorite, but she’s learned to not be picky throughout everything she had to survive through.

This, she knew, was not as much thought as it was suggestion, and she shifts to human appearance at once. A worthy attempt, at least; but mortals barely made it as food, and those with armor and weapons and perhaps even carrying poison would be a stupid choice to pursue.

Most of all when she still needed Wrathion’s aid, loathe it as she did.

“But you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Talks to her incorporeal companions in manner that surely makes Wrathion’s pets think her insane; perhaps she is, Nalice thinks, difficult as it was lately to tell apart where her mind ended and Void influence begun. If losing her mind, she still has enough of it to know acting against him now would be playing into their hands, for destroying her and weakening his forces would be desirable enough outcome to them (and then and there, she found her unwillingness to follow anyone’s whims but her own rivaled only her drive to survive no matter what).

How glad she’d be to sink teeth in them and tear them apart limb from limb, how tragic it could not be done to enemies that were made of no physical matter. To get rid of them in manner that is somewhat effective, then. Strides are quick but purposeful also, leading her directly to the other dragon with apparent nonchalance that belies just how attentive Nalice is to surroundings deemed hostile. 

Lashes out even as she approaches him, regardless of how his aid had been saving grace in truth and she may not be there at all were it not for Wrathion intervening when asked to do so. Lack of progress irritated her, nevertheless; in spite of adapting his recipe accordingly to information she provided, Nalice had yet to be able to resist the voices for truly lengthy amount of time. “I must say when I came to you for help, my expectations were low and yet I expected it to be more effective than this has been so far.”