Written by | Posted September 8, 2015 – 9:51 pm Descent and Ascent

It didn’t take long to get from Thunder Bluff to the Echo Isles – Ankona took advantage of a wyvern so she could think and plan before getting to her destination. She had information to confirm with the spirits – was Gromnor dead? Was he really in the northern part of the Eastern Kingdoms, somewhere […]

Old Enemies: Bail
comment Comments Off on Old Enemies: Bail Written by on August 8, 2013 – 5:16 pm

Another post brought to you by Lorelli, of Exit Reality Studios. (You should pay her to do art for you. Her art is awesome!)

Previous posts in this series include Coming forth by Day, The Magical Rogue, Demonology 101, Intellect Reason and the Self, and Trailing off (Part1 and Part 2).

Aely looked across the table at the rogue she’d come to trust so well over the last few years. She didn’t know if Lore had introduced her to Arrens, or the other way around, but regardless, they had a common thread in the missing man, and the latest reports were less than promising.

“Hinote said he almost certainly went ta Outland. An’ Outland is unstable as fuck.”

Lorelli nodded. “There were a whole bunch of places that de Roux said he could have gone though, right? Even Lordaeron?”

“Yeh, but… Hinote has a soulstone she charged up in his summoning circle ay th’ University. She tracked his … resonance? Fel magic is far beyond me… anyroad – she tracked it to th’ Portal in th’ Blasted Lands, but couldna get a read further than that. I … dinna want ta believe he’d try sommat in Outland though. Th’ farther out he goes, th’ more likely this is ta end in ruins.”

“Have you ruled out the demonic summoning areas of Kalimdor?”

“Th’ gryphon rider here says a man wi’ his description flew out south. I’ve na gotten a tail oan anyone at th’ docks sayin’ anyone sailed out, though I suppose he could ha’ hired a portal. In short, I’ve no idea. There’s some powerful areas there though – Demon Fall Canyon comes ta mind. Dinna ken if any ay it is as powerful as th’ altars out in Blasted Lands, but…” Aely shrugged helplessly. “I canna figure any ay this out.”

Lorelli placed a hand on Aely’s shoulder but remained silent. She didn’t want to offer what may end up being hollow words of false hope, as much as she willed that not to be the case. She and Aely were both much more realistic than that.

Finally she said, “I’ve got a list here of supplies purchased by a man matching Arrens’ description around the right time frame. Sadly it’s all a bit mundane and doesn’t really point in any one direction. Except that he had no idea how long he’d be gone. I still can’t believe he’d leave without any sort of…” She trailed off, looking to Aely with the fear she may have said the wrong thing.

“None ay this makes sense. He’s too careful fir this kind ay thing usually. An’ too preoccupied wi’ school. Whate’er wis in tha’ book, it wis strong eno’ ta tempt him out ay teachin’ summer classes. An’ if he thought it would be a quick errand, maybe he dinna think oan leavin’ a note. Or maybe he tried an’ it got lost – ye ken how th’ mail is up in Kun Lai. Likely I’ll get a letter at Christmas. I’ve been stayin’ at th’ Monastery there, an’…” Aely sighed. “An’ tha’ dinna much matter now anyroad. It’s all unlike him, but I’m tryin’ ta keep in good faith about it until I’ve truly reason ta think otherwise.”

“Right. As well you should. I’m free for a few days, how about I head over to Kalimdor and take a look around? With any luck we can then rule out it or Outland.” She raked a hand through her hair, then paused, a thought occurring to her. “I may even be able to enlist some help.”

“May be a bit ay fool’s errand, but it’d make me feel better ta ken fir sure we wir lookin’ ta Outland fir our answers. Ye prob’ly ken th’ big fel centers as well as any, but Sarcanna mentioned Felwood an’ Demon Fall Canyon, though there’s other demonic spots in Ashenvale too.” Aely paused. “Jus’… dinna be too long, an’ dinna worry about it if ye dinna find anythin’. It’s a long shot at this point.”

The rogue nodded again and then was gone as if she had never been there.


Her plan when she left Aely was to meet with Prayce the next day, explain what was going on and ask if he wanted to come with her. Who better to take on a warlock hunt, than a warlock; but the lead was too good and she couldn’t wait. She left Prayce a note instead, apologizing that she wouldn’t be able to make it to the Pig and Whistle that evening and went to talk to a boat captain.

“Yeah, I think I recall someone fittin’ that description. Sailed out with us ‘bout six weeks back. Didn’t say much ‘bout where he was headed though.”

Lorelli frowned, “And you dropped him in Rut’theran?”

The captain nodded, “That I did, lass. Sorry I can’t help you much beyond that.”

Yeah, I’d like to see how sorry you’d be if I wasn’t paying you. She bit her tongue and handed the captain his promised ‘fee’. After, she want to hire a portal to Darnassus.


Darnassus would always remain one of the last places she ever wanted to be. Even just passing through made her tense, watching every shadow and corner as she navigated the streets and trails. There was just too much bad blood and too many unwanted memories. If there had been a faster way to reach Rut’theran, the rogue would have gladly taken it, as there was not, here she was.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” A voice asked in Darnassian.

Lorelli paused and turned to face the young man sitting on the steps of the shop she had been passing. He held a bottle in one hand and had his white hair pulled back in a ponytail. One of his ears was a few inches shorter than the other.

“Probably just look like someone you know. Sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry…” She said, starting to turn away.

He set the bottle down with a thud and got up. “No, I’m pretty sure I know you.” He made some sort of hand gesture and three other kaldorei men appeared from inside and around the sides of the shop. “Ashond mentioned Teal had been back in town a few months ago. Said she cleared out most of the Lowborne. We’re out of jobs now, you know that?”

Lorelli kept her face neutral and held back a sigh. “Look boys, under normal circumstances, I’d love to hang around and play Show the Lads How I Earned My Reputation but like I said, I’m in a hurry. Why don’t you try actually working in that shop instead of holding the steps down if you’re short on cash?”

A knife landed in the dirt at her feet. There was a blurring of the lines at the edges of her vision and a slithering at the back of her mind. She clamped it down and fixed the first man with a stare.

“Ashond would love to talk to you.” He said.

“M’sure he would but for the last time, I’m in a hurry .” On the last word the flash packet hit the ground. It lit the area for a moment before the smoke spilled out obscuring the lines of the buildings and the shapes of the men. Lorelli turned on her heel and sprinted away before the light had fully faded. She knew they’d recover from the effects quicker than most, but she had enough of a head start she should be able to lose them.

She headed for the raised promenade in the middle of the city and dashed from pillar to pillar. Once she reached the bridge she swung down underneath and flattened herself up against the support, knee deep in water. The rogue held her breath and waited. Eventually she heard their boot falls over head.

“Lost her.”

“How the fuck could you lose her? She was right there!” There was pause and then, “Alright. You two go that way, I’ll go this way. Call Ashond, tell him Teal’s in town and we need people looking for her now. ”

Lorelli waited a bit longer before slowly moving from her hiding spot and chancing a look over the bridge. Seeing no sign of them she turned and jogged for the portal out of town. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been spotted heading for Rut’theran, but she made it quick just to be safe.

The gryphon master also confirmed a man similar in appearance to Arrens had paid for a ride to Felwood roughly five or six weeks prior. Lorelli thanked him and purchased a ride following the same route.


Felwood was about the time she really started to wish she’d gotten in touch with Prayce before leaving. The whole area felt electric, made her hair stand on end and her skin crawl. Regardless of what he had said about demons becoming like family, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay with them. Felwood kind of felt like Outland’s skinny little brother.

The gryphon master in Talonbranch Glade, however, was a dead end. She had no recollection of anyone like Arrens at all. She suggested that perhaps instead of Talonbranch, the Professor had landed in Whisperwind Grove or the Emerald Sanctuary. Neither of them yielded any further clues either. It was getting close to midday now, getting warmer and she couldn’t help but stifle a yawn. The rogue was used to running on little to no sleep when needed, was just the heat and the light were slowing her down. She pulled up her hood but left the mask off and went to speak with the Sanctuary flight master once more.

He was a large dark furred tauren named Gorrim. “You know, you might try Wildheart Point.” He recommended. “They’re a small camp but they see travelers occasionally, too.” His Darnassian was oddly accented but he made his point just fine.

“Can you get me there?” She asked.

Gorrim nodded and pointed out one of the gryphons towards the end of his line.


The flight to Wildheart Point was a short one and the flight master there was a kaldorei named Chyella. Chyella told Lorelli she thought she recalled someone that looked like Arrens about a month or so ago but she couldn’t say for absolutely certain. He’d purchased a gryphon ride to Desolace and so that’s where she went.

Moira Steelwing at Thargad’s Camp also recalled someone matching the description Lorelli gave and said that he had departed heading east. A quick consultation of her map and the rogue figured the most likely destination for a warlock would be Mannoroc Coven.

A few hours later, empty handed and smarting from a demon encounter she trudged back into Thargad’s Camp. Moira looked at her in askance but Lorelli offered no reply. She was tired, sore, hungry, and just barely staving off a headache. The thing worrying her most, however, was going back to Aely empty handed. Her friend had said not to worry if she didn’t find anything but that made no difference, she worried anyway.

It was time to take a moment and restock. A drink would certainly help with that and the best drinks, in her opinion were in Gadgetzan.


It was early evening by the time she arrived in Tanaris. The sun was still high overhead and the light made her head swim slightly. Lorelli pulled her hood lower over her eyes trying to cut down more of the light. She had entertained a brief notion that she might make it back to Stormwind in time to join in some drinks at the Pig but there was no way that was going to happen now.

She slipped into the inn, thankful for a break from the brightness of the desert sun but it didn’t offer much in the way of relief from the heat. She grabbed a chair and ordered a drink. A few drinks later she stopped the innkeeper as he passed. On a whim, she inquired about Arrens.

“I’m wondering if you recall seeing a man in the last few weeks?” She proceeded to describe him in as much detail as possible, hesitantly adding the fact that he may have had a demon trailing after him.

“Aint seen no one like that round here, lady. Might try heading north ta Desolace. Warlocks love that place.” The innkeeper replied, replacing her drink.

She handed him her empty glass with a nod, “Thanks.”

There was a goblin at one of the other tables watching her. Lorelli pretended not to notice until he spoke up.

“Your boyfriend up and left ya, huh, sweetheart?”

She took a sip from her drink, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. “He’s a dear friend’s husband. Not that it matters. Point is, he’s missing and we’d really like to find him.”

“Not sure what anyone’d want to marry a demonfucker for.”

She narrowed her eyes even further at him having recently discovered a great distaste for the term.

He leaned forward across the table. “You don’t look like you like demons. Betcha’ like goblins though.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, which caused his ears to also wiggle a tad hilariously.

Lorelli shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “Not particularly.”

“Aw come on, once ya go green ya never go back.” He made smoochy motions with his lips accompanied by an awkward sucking noise.

Lorelli resisted the urge to throw her glass at his head. “S’what they said ‘bout orcs too.”

The goblin scowled. “What? Pretty nigh elf lady too good for us, eh? Ya’ll think yer better than us. S’my money too good for you too?”

“I’d advise you watch your tongue, sir. You’re headed into very treacherous ground.” She’d gone very still, not even her eyes betrayed that she was tracking his every move.

“I ain’t scared of you. Just cuz you’re tall and pretty. Tall folk can’ keep threatening us and putting us down cuz we’re short.”

“Has nothing to do with your stature and everything to do with your approach.” She replied, her voice deadly calm.

“So what? I just didn’t offer you enough?”

“That is now the second time you have implied that I am a whore. I am tired and therefore will allow it to pass. Do not try me again.”

“I got plenty of gold, Money is no object.”

Lorelli set her glass down with a clunk against the table. She rose from her chair and sauntered over to him, slow and steady. He tracked her with his eyes, traced the curves she presented.

“I knew that’s all it was. Ladies like yourself love them some gol…” He was cut off as her fist connected with his nose, a sickening crunch echoing through the inn. She turned, leaving him on the floor clutching his nose to find five more goblins had stood up and were eyeing her.

“Well, so much for my rest. ‘fraid I left my dance card on my table, first come first serve.” She was outnumbered, it was true. At that point she didn’t care, she was annoyed at the goblin’s implications, baseless as they may be and frustrated with the lack of evidence in her search. The black haze slithering at the edges of her vision had nothing to do with it, at least she pretended they didn’t. She left her knives where they were, however, she wanted a good fight, not a slaughter.

The small mob–pun intended–advanced and everything erupted. By the time they were done, the damage was five busted tables, eight busted chairs, two spilled drinks, three shattered glasses and five unconscious goblins. Not to mention the small garrison of Steemwheedle bruisers that had now arrived. Lorelli winced, one of them had gotten a pretty clear shot to the back of her head and she wouldn’t be surprised to find a cracked rib or two. Also it was getting a little hazy and that made her nervous. So when the bruisers insisted she put her hands up, she did so.


At least the wall of the cell was cool. She felt like she’d been sitting in a steam pool and neglected to get out long after she should have. Her head was pounding and the haze hadn’t lifted. She wanted to sleep but she needed to figure a way out of here. They had taken her daggers, all of her back up knives and her gloves. The last of which being the most problematic as her lock picks were in the right one. Fucking goblins were far too thorough. However, for some reason, they hadn’t taken her buzzbox. Thank… something… for small favors.

She switched it on, with a quick glance at her guards and their positions. It was early in the Eastern Kingdoms, if anyone was awake it’d be a miracle, so ahw just left a message that would show up for anyone with her frequency to retrieve.

My apologies Riders. Ran into some trouble, won’t be back in town until later today. Don’t need bail, may need a healer, certainly need a few hours of sleep. That should at least let folk know she’d be stuck away and not to expect her. Maybe a nap and then she would get back on this escape problem.

When she woke a bit later she had message waiting. It was Prayce saying he’d be waiting for her when she got back to offer any assistance he could. She smiled in spite of the situation, fired off a reply and set about inspecting the cell. She was prodding at the lock when one of the bruisers came over and started shouting at her but he was yelling in goblin and she was only catching one word in five. Really it only served to make her headache worse.

Lorelli put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I wasn’t doin’ anything. Just wanted to ask for some water.” She followed that up with the goblin word for water which was extremely similar to the goblin word for gold which was also very similar to the goblin word for life. She really hoped she’d gotten the accent right or this could get pretty awkward. The goblin sneered at her and pointed to the bench at the back of the cell.

“Right, right. I’m goin’.” She dropped back on the seat, waited until he moved away and dropped another message to the buzzbox’s storage, much as she hated to do so. This was that whole playing well with others thing she was supposed to be working on, right? Relying on folk, asking for help? At least she hoped so.

May need bail after all. My goblin isn’t that great. S’either bail or I’m finally being offered a drink…

Almost immediately she received two replies, very similar in nature but extremely different in tone.

Tarquin: Oh for fuck’s sake. Where are you?

Prayce: Where are you?

So the cavalry was coming after all. This should be interesting. She felt bad, She shouldn’t even be in this situation and should certainly be able to get herself out. Headache wasn’t helping, she couldn’t focus. She called the guard over and tried her request for a drink once more. He laughed but seemed to nod and moved off.

She turned her attention back to her box. Gadgetzan . But I think we’re good here? Seems we’ve finally broken the language barrier. Did you know goblins have at least ten words for gold?

Again, an almost instant reply. Was Prayce sitting on his box waiting for messages? She was slightly flattered. I’m headed your way. Knowing goblins, they’ll most likely try to double the bail money.

Or triple. She thought. No, really, it was fine. She could handle it. She started to send another message stating just that. It’s alright, that won’t be necessa…. Her guard returned carrying a mug. She smiled in relief, started to get up and was forced into an immediate ducking maneuver as he pulled back and chucked the mug at her head. It hit the wall with a clang splashing it’s contents across her and the cell.

“You green-skinned little bastard!” She spat, lunging for the bars and trying to get at him through them. He danced just out of reach and laughed at her. The black haze was creeping back and she imagined twisting his head off using his giant sail like ears as handles. She forced herself to pause, take a breath and calm down. At least the water had been cold and served to cool her off somewhat. She trudged back to the bench and sat to finish her message.

Okay. Right. I’ll just sit tight. And as an afterthought she added. Thanks. And meant it.


Lorelli didn’t recall falling asleep and couldn’t have said what time of day it was. There was a commotion from somewhere out front, a raised voice trying to make themselves understood. A moment more of strained listening and she recognized Prayce’s voice trying to negotiate bail with whichever bruiser was on duty. She closed her eyes and silently thanked Elune and the Light and whichever other gods may have given a shit. She was up and leaning against the bars when her rescuer and his goblin escort finally made their way down the back hallway.

She couldn’t help but grin when she saw him.

“Are you alright to travel?” Prayce asked, eyeing her and then eyeing the goblin as if imagining what he would do if her answer was anything less than satisfactory. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.

“I’m fine, what are you planning?”

He reached an arm between the bars. “Not to pay the bail, that’s for certain. Grab on to me.”

“I fail to see what good this will do…” As she took hold of his arm she felt a very strong yanking sensation. There was a flash of green and then everything was suddenly far too bright and the sun was beating down on her again. She almost wanted to be back in the cell. Almost.

“Wasn’t sure the portal would take two but I had to risk it. I know you’re in no condition to travel…”

“I’m fine.” She insisted as he paused between breaths.

“…But if we don’t find ourselves scarce we’ll have much bigger problems to deal with.” Prayce started trying to pull her along behind him, but she let go and stopped.

“I can be real scarce, real easy. Get out of here and wait for me outside of town. I’ll just be a moment.” She turned and started sneaking back around to the front of the building. “And thank you.” She shot over her shoulder.

“You’re going back in?”

“My gear’s in there.” And she slid into the shadows before he could protest.


“Alright.” Lorelli said, tugging her gloves back on and checking every blade was safely back where it belonged. She never felt more comfortable then when all her gear was in its proper place.

Prayce jumped and whirled to face her, “Where did…”

“Told you, I can be real scarce, real easy. S’kind of what I do. Now let’s get out of this arid hell hole. I need to make a stop in Ashenvale and I could really use your help.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough to…”

“I said I’m fine. I’ve had enough injuries I can usually tell what bad is. This aint bad.”

What she didn’t tell him was that there was now only a small pile of goblin corpses to man the jail cells in Gadgetzan.


As they flew toward Ashenvale Lorelli filled Prayce in on the situation with Arrens. It took the better part of the trip but finally as they landed she finished. “I’m not much good with magic and fel energy and all that. S’where you come in. Not to mention pleasant company is always a plus.”

Prayce nodded, a fel hound now standing sentry by his feet. “I will do my best. This area is loaded with fel magic but if there is a trail, we will find it.” He turned to the dog-like demon, patting it on it’s scaled head and speaking to it in demonic.

Lorelli turned away, pulling her hood up and checking to make sure her daggers were loose enough for a quick draw. She turned back around and found herself staring straight into a pair of eyes attached to a large pile of fur, claws and a whole lot of teeth wearing Prayce’s clothes. For a brief moment she felt a bit of concern over what she’d gotten herself into with him but she forced a laugh. “Hairball.”

When he spoke his voice was deeper with a hint of ferocity behind it. “Let us find your man.”

They traveled in silence to avoid alerting the roaming demons to their presence. Lorelli trailed slightly behind, watching his back and sticking to the shadows. He seemed extremely focused and she knew better than to interrupt. The canyon was covered in summoning circles, old and new. What had once been part of the lush Ashenvale forest now a dead wasteland of green fire, ash and demons.

The fel hound Prayce called Khii was bounding from circle to circle, sniffing, far too dog like for Lore’s comfort. It’s tendrils flayed too and fro before it was off to the next circle and then the next before coming back around to one of the first ones again, like it couldn’t make up its mind. It paid no heed to the other demons, and if it got too far ahead while Lorelli and Prayce hung back out of sight, they didn’t seem to troubled by Khii either.

“There has been activity here recently, but there’s no way to tell by whom.” Prayce was kneeling by one of the circles tracing the patterns with a claw, seeming almost distant. Lorelli nodded, though he was paying her little attention. She had pretty much resigned herself to make sure he didn’t get jumped by a demon and pretending like she had any clue what was going on here.

“That’s comforting.” She muttered.

Prayce moved around the circle and inhaled the still crackling flames of green fire dancing there. It was hard to watch and added to her growing unease.

“Yes, fresh homage paid here.” He said.

“Homage? Dare I ask what exactly that entails? I mean, I get the tribute part, it’s what you pay tribute with that I may or may not be interested in.”

Prayce got to his feet and looked around as he replied. “You would not care to know, my dear. Usually involves sacrifice of some sort or another.”

“Right. Cute.”

He continued walking, “The contracts with the fel come in many forms. Depends on the bargain mostly. A crafty warlock will set the contract but many fall victim to the demons’ wit.”

They had reached a large area where many summoning circles were laid out in a pattern even Lorelli – not being versed in fel magic and summons – couldn’t miss. Prayce pointed from one circle to the next.

“Clearly there has been a rather large summoning here.” He said.

“How large is large?”

He was kneeling next to another circle. Once again a claw reached out to follow the lines of the runes inscribed there. “Large enough to be troubling.”

“But we can’t tell exactly what was summoned or how it ended? Like, say the demon ate the summoner and flew away. Or something.”

Prayce beckoned Khii over and spoke to the fel hound in demonic again. At least she assumed before and now that is what it must be. Sounded similar to Arrens’ demonic and the translations of the book Kost, Sarcanna and Hinote had given. There was a strangled yelp and the fel hound collapsed to the ground, lit on fire and burned to a pile of green tinged ash in seconds.

The rogue blinked behind her mask. It was the only betrayal of emotion given but also hidden. She wondered what exactly had just happened and if the fel hound was somehow miraculously okay. Perhaps she had been hanging around Prayce too long if she was concerned for the well being of a demon dog. She tried to read the warlock’s face for any answers. All she was greeted with was a view of what seemed to be yet more teeth and eyes that had gone completely inky black.

Finally he answered her but his voice was not the same. “It was large, yet not large enough, I think.”

“How could it not be large enough?” In her mind, any demon summoning at all was too large.

“You are familiar with gnomish devices?”

“A fair number of them, yes.” She had built a fair few herself.

“At times, they use too harsh a load on the device. Then all of it falters.”

She nodded, “Right. You blow a circuit, or the motor, or something. Okay, engineering metaphors, I can work with that.”

Prayce smiled at her but around all the teeth it was mostly just extremely feral and even more unsettling. “Exactly. I believe the ‘motor’ gave out here and they moved on. I can’t get a scent though. The overload of magic smudges them all.” He waved a great clawed hand, “I would say if your headmaster was here, he left. Demons tend to make trophies of failed masters.”

A vision of a head on a spike and strewn entrails entered her head unbidden. She was very glad she didn’t have to take that explanation back to Aely. “Yeah. that I have heard before and it’s not comforting. Arrens was no half-assed warlock, but he had a habit of getting in over his head.” She paused, “Is.” She corrected herself but it didn’t feel right. “Hells, I don’t know…”

Prayce had turned away and when he faced her again, he was all human.

“That’s going to take a little getting used.” She commented.

“I apologize. Some of what I do it quite unsettling, I know.”

Lorelli shrugged thinking back on the goblins and not feeling the least bit guilty about it. “I’m hardly one to judge, really. Some of what I do is probably unsettling too. I was referring more to the wolf.”

He offered her a smile. “I find that form more fitting for work.”

Lorelli spread her hands with a slight tilt of her head. “Makes sense. Anything stupid enough to mess with that much teeth and claws deserved to be ripped to shreds.”

“Just think of it as donning one’s armor.”

“Right.” The rogue heaved a heavy sigh, “Well, I think we’ve done all we can here. I need to report back to Aely and then sleep for a number of hours.”

He nodded and wordlessly pulled her to him. She stood there a moment, leaning on him, ‘leaning’ on the strength of another soul and grateful for his presence. They had agreed that their situation would remain fluid and that labels were not important. It was another aspect of the game and she could tell Prayce played as well as she did. Though she would never admit it to herself, part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to win.

Her eyes scanned the area one last time, willing some evidence to appear that she could take back to one of her dearest friends and present with any sort of certainty. Aely had said ‘don’t worry if you don’t find anything’ but it wasn’t enough. Not for Lorelli and not for Aely, who deserved to know.

Old Enemies: Trailing Off (Part 2)
comment Comments Off on Old Enemies: Trailing Off (Part 2) Written by on August 6, 2013 – 11:47 am

More from Shaila and Hinote!

Previous posts in this series include Coming forth by Day, The Magical Rogue, Demonology 101, Intellect Reason and the Self, and Trailing off (Part1)

The next stop, somewhat predictably, turned out to be another altar; though not as large and oppressive an altar as the one they’d just fled. A single statue, hooded like the ones at the Altar of Storms, loomed over the scene. It was chained at the arms to a pair of broken obelisks that stood to either side of the elevated, inscribed slab of rock in the middle. Ritual markings covered the altar’s flat surface, and where there were no markings there were bloodstains, or unlit candles, or piles of skulls, or any combination thereof. A few braziers burned at the base of the altar, and a few more near the broken pillars next to it, casting a dull, eerie purple glow over their surroundings.

Hinote looked oddly wistful as she surveyed the scene. “Been a long time since I came here…” Her eyes went up to the towering statue, where a pair of orange pinpoints of light peered back at her underneath its hooded visage.

Shaila was looking at the altar itself, a more uncomfortable look on her face. “Were you a part of the forces that fought Kazzak?”

“Once or twice, before he reactivated the portal and ran.” She lowered her gaze to the altar. “More than that…an old warlock used to live here, and a lot of people came to him to learn the ritual to summon a doomguard.” Her tone grew a bit more musing as she continued on. “It was…sort of an archaic spell, and it’s been improved on since then, but for a while he was the only one on Azeroth who knew it. Or at least…the only one who was willing to teach it.”

Shaila glanced over to Hinote, unsure what to think of the musings. On the one hand they seemed to be…fond memories? On the other hand they were memories of someone learning how to summon a dangerous demon. So she said nothing, merely looking back to the altar and nodding subtly.

“How about our warlock? Anything on him here?”

Hinote looked at the soulstone again. It was glowing once more, though it was difficult to tell in the light cast by the nearby braziers. Still, she seemed to find whatever answers she was looking for in it. “Looks like he tried here too. It’s…clearer here than it was at the Altar of Storms.” She shook her head. “Didn’t work.”

“I guess we should keep following the trail then,” Shaila said, looking back to where they had come from. “Although there’s really only one other place he could have gone here. Think he was trying to avoid it?”

“Maybe.” Hinote thought about it for a moment. Aely had told her that Arrens was unusually careful, as warlocks went, and valued control above all else. If that was true – and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t – it would have made sense for him to try a site on Azeroth first. Outland was unstable before it was anything else, and not a place for the cautious-minded to attempt whatever high-level incantation Arrens had been seeking. “From what I heard about him, I think he would’ve tried for the path of least resistance. Someplace that would work with minimal risk involved.”

Shaila went back to Hinote’s dreadsteed, waiting for her to get on before doing so herself. “Can’t think of a place with less resistance to a summoning than a place already steeped in the Nether itself. Though ‘minimal risk’ is not a word I would associate with Outland.”

“Which is probably why he tried here first,” Hinote concluded.

Shaila nodded in agreement, and the two of them started off once more to their final destination. They rode past the Tainted Forest, that cursed patch of wooded land grown by a worgen druid who had bitten off more than he could chew. Hinote was used to dealing with this sort of thing already, and Shaila had grown reaccustomed to it in the course of their investigations in the Blasted Land. So the two paid little heed to the feeling of wrongness the forest emanated as they passed, the feeling of hatred, the feeling that it wanted no one to trespass within its borders and that there would be dire consequences for any who did. Familiar shapes stirred just beneath the trees as the two rode further away from the forest, and dull glowing eyes stared after them from beneath the thick, writhing vine and thorn bodies of the denizens within.

They finally came over the last rise at the hills that ringed the Dark Portal’s crater, avoiding the crags cutting through the ground glowing with a molten fel light. Shaila was careful not to breathe any of the fumes coming from the crags, and wondered as she did if Hinote had to worry over the same at all.

They rode down to the camp in front of the portal, glad at least to be among people that were neither cultists nor spirits nor demons. It was an odd mixture of troops, especially these days with how turbulent relations had been between the Horde and the Alliance. Orcs and dwarves and tauren and draenei mingled in the camp. The atmosphere currently seemed to be somewhat more relaxed than it had been, maybe due to the odd alliance that a portion of the Horde and Alliance had recently formed in Durotar, a relief to those who watched the Dark Portal after fighting had broken out between Stonemaul and Nethergarde Keep in the previous year.

They spared hardly a glance for the dreadsteed bearing the two women into the camp, the two members of the Rose being at least known in passing to them. Shaila hopped off the fel horse and looked up to Hinote inquisitively.

“Were we right?” She asked.

Hinote glanced at the portal, then the soulstone, then the path up to the looming, magical archways that towered over the camp. “I think so. The signal’s fainter here, which means he probably didn’t cast anything, but he was definitely here.”

Shaila walked up the ramp to the portal, until she was standing just before the eerie window into what lay beyond. She watched it for a few moments, the subtle movements of the portal itself always somewhat mesmerizing to her, before she shook her head and looked back to Hinote. “Can you tell if he went through?”

“It seems obvious to me,” Hinote replied offhandedly. “He certainly didn’t come back home.” She peered into the soulstone again, which had gone back to its dull, lightless purple color. “At the very least, he went to the portal. I’d assume he went through it after that.”

“Then I’d say we’ve cut out an entire world to search, at least,” Shaila said, smiling slightly to Hinote. “Will the signal persist through to the other side?”

“Let’s hope so.” The warlock pocketed the gem again, returning the look and smiling herself. “Otherwise we’re going to be stuck asking.”

Shaila nodded, and stepped through the portal without a moment’s hesitation. She felt the odd sense of displacement and disorientation; that strange feeling of, just for a moment, not really being anywhere. She was then standing in a broken, more corrupted version of the Blasted Lands with nothing above her but stars and other worlds and a long, wispy and beautiful strand of magic that was the Twisting Nether itself. They’d arrived to the other side, in Hellfire Peninsula.

Hinote looked at the sky – or rather, the lack thereof – for a moment. “Seems like it’s been a while…” She retrieved the soulstone from her pocket again, idly turning it in her hand as she continued nether-gazing. “Lot of places he could’ve gone here.”

“Are you getting any direction in particular?” Shaila looked at her hopefully.

The warlock hesitated for a moment, then held up the gem and looked into it. It had begun flickering wildly, alternating with varying frequency between the bright glow it had emanated previously and its usual inert state. She remained silent for a few seconds, peering at the soulstone with a mix of confusion and concern that didn’t stay hidden for very long. “I’m getting…all of them,” she said finally. Hinote stared more intently at the soulstone, but to no avail. “Something’s interfering with it. I didn’t expect it to be this bad out here, but…”

Shaila’s shoulders slumped, and she looked out helplessly to the landscape – and lack thereof – before them. She was silent for a few moments, trying to think of some way to keep up the trail. But magic was not her expertise, even if there had been a way.

“Well…I think we’ve cut down the list of possible places he could go by a fair amount,” she said. “We aren’t the only ones looking. We should go back and tell Aelflaed what we’ve found, so she can have everyone focus their efforts on Outland.”

“Yeah…” Hinote’s gaze lingered on the gem in her hand a bit longer, disappointment creeping into her expression just slightly. “I think I could get something if we were at someplace he performed another ritual, but…there’s no way I can track him from here.”

“We’ll find him. And Hino?” Shaila looked over at her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done really well, in all this. I’m really proud of you. And I’m sure Aely is really thankful already for everything that you’ve done.”

Hinote didn’t respond immediately. With a heavy sigh, she slowly pocketed the soulstone again. “Yeah…let’s just hope this doesn’t end the way it’s probably going to.”

Shaila let out a brief sigh, squeezing Hino’s shoulder once before letting go. “I hope your pessimism isn’t justified. Come on. We’ve got a worried wife to update.” She turned, and stepped back through the portal.

Hinote’s eyes drifted back into space as Shaila left. “It’s…not pessimism,” she said to herself. With another exasperated sigh, she turned to the portal and stepped towards it. “It’s pattern recognition.”

Old Enemies: Trailing Off (Part 1)
comment 1 Written by on August 6, 2013 – 8:45 am

This post is brought to you by Shaila and Hinote, both of the Order of the Rose.

Previous posts in this series include Coming forth by Day, The Magical Rogue, Demonology 101, and Intellect Reason and the Self.

The red mountains that made up the perimeter of the Blasted Lands came into view as Shaila flew her proto-drake, Sharyz, to the demon infested plains. The winds were rough and warm here as always, a sign of the instability of the lands connected to the Dark Portal. This time it filled Shaila with confidence. Lands such as these were prime spots for Arrens to have carried out whatever he intended, and with Stormwind’s gryphon master having said he went south, this had to be the only place he could have headed.

She flew over the walls of Nethergarde Keep after letting the guards on the walls get a good look at her. Tensions at the fortress were always high, with demons and the Horde both in close proximity. Had she flown right down, she likely would have been filled with arrows for her presumptiveness. But fly down she finally did, landing safely on the tall wooden flight platform. It hadn’t really been built for proto-drakes, and shook slightly as Sharyz flopped down onto it. Shaila winced, and gave the flight master an apologetic look as she climbed off and led Sharyz down to get him settled.

She looked around for Hinote as she did, wondering if the warlock had already arrived.

She didn’t have to wonder long. “You’re late,” came a neutral voice from nearby, on the path leading away from the flight master’s platform. Hinote stood there, arms folded, looking only mildly impatient. In other words, a grade or two more pleasant than she usually looked.

Shaila smiled at Hinote, cheered by the apparent mildness of her impatience.”Sorry. Sharyz got hungry, I had to let him eat a deer on the way.” She finished getting the creature settled, and walked over to join the warlock.

Hinote reached into her pocket for a moment and withdrew a small, dark purple gem, holding it up for Shaila to see. “This should tell us if Arrens has been through here. Hopefully.” She looked at it herself for a moment, apparently skeptical. “It’s hard to say for sure with so many other residual magical signatures in the area, but the summoning circle Aely took me to had a fairly distinct signal.”

“Well he took a gryphon here, we know that,” Shaila said, folding her arms as she looked around. “Which means that unless he flew down to Surwich, he came through here first. Are you picking anything up yet?”

She stared at the gem for a moment longer. Nothing about it changed, which apparently meant something, because she stopped soon after. “It’s a little faint here, but there’s something. Might get stronger if we get closer to the portal, or the Tainted Scar. It works best in places he performed magic, and if he came here for a warlock ritual, he probably went to one of those two areas.”

“Well, let’s follow the signature,” Shaila said. “Could you summon your uh…” She hesitated, looking unsure. “…horse? Thing?”

Hinote looked at Shaila for a few seconds, slightly incredulous. “Dreadsteed?”

“Yeahhh,” Shaila said, nodding. “That thing.”

The warlock made a gesture with her free hand, and a patch of flames erupted from the ground next to her, growing in size over the course of a few moments until it reached about as high as Hinote herself. It dissipated just as abruptly as it came, leaving behind an indignant-looking horse – if you could call a thing with burning hooves, horns, and spikes a horse – that regarded its mistress with a mix of curiosity and disdain. Hinote, however, didn’t seem to mind its attitude, and promptly climbed up on its back.

Shaila approached the Dreadsteed after that, and tentatively patted its rump before pulling herself up and behind Hinote. She held onto the warlock, and leaned forward slightly.

“Alright, Hino. Take us away!”

Hinote urged the dreadsteed forward and it took off along the road, leaving behind a trail of slightly singed cobblestones and bewildered Nethergarde Keep inhabitants as they rode out the gate.

“So we didn’t get shot in the back as we left,” Shaila said. “That’s a good start.”

“They’re not exactly strangers to warlocks down here,” Hinote replied. “Things like this make most of them a little uncomfortable, but they’re used to it.” She looked at the soulstone again as they rode along. It still looked largely the same, which seemed to disappoint her slightly. “Nothing good yet.”

“So how do you read that, anyway?” Shaila asked, trying to peer over Hinote’s shoulder (largely unsuccessfully). “Follow whichever direction seems to make it glow more, or what?”

“Something like that. There’s more to it, but at the very least it’ll tell us if he’s been through here, assuming there’s nothing interfering with it. The trail’s just…not all that strong here.”

“Hm…alright,” Shaila said, nodding. She left Hinote to reading the soulstone after that, and the warlock could occasionally feel the small woman shift around slightly behind her as Shaila surveyed the passing landscape.

For the most part, Hinote kept to reading it in silence. As they neared the branch in the road leading south, though, something caught her attention, and she slowly urged the dreadsteed to a stop. “There’s something…” She trailed off for a moment, looking first at the soulstone, which was now glowing faintly, then at the surrounding area. Her eyes finally settled on a steep plateau just west of the road. “There, I think.”

“Isn’t that the Rise of the Defiler?” Shaila asked. “Makes sense…”

“Yeah,” Hinote affirmed. “Don’t think it’s seen any visitors in a while, but it can’t hurt to check. If nothing else, the signal should be clear.”


Climbing the rise would have been out of the question; the sides of the plateau were far too steep all around, and the top too high up. Fortunately, whoever had last used it – or perhaps whoever had originally used it – left teleportation runes for easy travel up and down the rise. The peak was as grim and dreary as anything else about the Blasted Lands: a char-black ritual circle of some sort was etched into the top of the rise, ringed by the skeletal remains of what were most likely its last victims. The sky seemed to darken just slightly as Hinote and Shaila arrived on the scene.

Shaila shifted uncomfortably, glancing around after arriving to the top. “I expected what this’d be like, but it doesn’t make it any better. Let’s finish up here before…something invisible pushes us off the edge or something.” She looked over to Hinote. “Any spellwork here?”

Hinote looked at the soulstone once again, which was now emitting a bright purple light. “I think so. He was definitely here, but…” She studied the gem intently for a moment. “It doesn’t look like he stayed long.” Her eyes turned to the faded ritual circle inscribed on the rise. “Might have been a good place for whatever he was hoping to do if he’d come here years ago, but the residual magic from whatever ritual took place here is…faded.”

“So this isn’t the place then,” Shaila concluded, looking over to her.

Hinote shook her head. “No. He stopped by, but whatever he was after, he couldn’t get it done here.” She pocketed the soulstone again.

Shaila exhaled a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good,” Shaila said. “Because for a moment I was kind of scared he’d summoned himself away. Somehow. Does that happen?” She looked to Hinote, curious.

“Summoning yourself away is called teleporting, Shaila.” Hinote cracked a slight smile as she turned towards Shaila. “So no, it doesn’t really happen. Though I suppose it’s possible something else summoned him…but I don’t think it happened here, if it happened at all.”

“Right,” Shaila said. “Then let’s get out of here and go to the next extremely unsettling location we’re bound to be led to.”

“Yeah…” The warlock’s eyes drifted westward, where the enormous, ominous statues of an Altar of Storms could be seen in between the crags of the mountain. “Hope you’re ready for a few more, because this place is full of them.”


Hinote’s intuition proved accurate, the Altar of Storms being precisely the next place they were led. Caution was appropriate, as the Altar over the years had been occupied on and off by the local cultists and ogres, drawn to the magical and demonic potential the power of the old corrupted runestones of Caer Darrow held. The three ominous hooded statues stood vigil as always around the perimeter of the Altar, the altar itself scarred with old scorch marks from the lightning that tended to manifest during rituals that would take place there, hence the name.

The altar was also stained with dried blood, mostly in the center. There were however the odd bloodstain in the outer perimeter of the Altar, likely marking the few times that the cultists had been disrupted during a ritual. Violently. No one who had ever possessed the Altar seemed to have seen fit to clean the thing, perhaps believing that even old blood lent some power to the arcane device.

The two women felt the energy of the Altar as they stepped onto it. It was as if they were stepping through a physical barrier of some kind, an oppressive and uncomfortably hot feeling that they had to will themselves to proceed through. Occasionally they thought they could hear voices, moaning and panicked whispers that faded in and out. To the layman it would have seemed imagined, but the two seasoned adventurers knew that they were real. They were hearing the Altar’s past victims. And there were many.

“Please tell me he didn’t use this thing,” Shaila said, looking over to Hinote with her arms wrapped around herself.

Hinote was either unfazed by their surroundings or else doing a very good job of hiding it. She looked at the soulstone, which was glowing brightly again. “Maybe…” She stepped onto the altar proper, looking around at the massive, cowled statues before settling on the space in the middle. “There’s a bit more interference here, but I think I might be able to…” Her eyes turned to the soulstone again, as if willing it to divulge something new. “I think…he tried here. It’s hard to say. Either way, it didn’t work.”

Shaila glanced up to one of the hooded statues, narrowing her eyes at its faceless gaze. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about this place.”

“The most we can do right now is keep people away from it. It’s going to take a lot more than just the two of us to clean this place up…and a lot of time.”

“Mmn,” Shaila responded, unsatisfied. “Let’s keep on the trail, then.”

As the two of them began to leave, they both suddenly felt as if a number of strong hands were gripping their shoulders, holding them back from leaving the Altar. Shaila gritted her teeth and struggled against the invisible hands as the pressure in the air around them seemed to increase. “Hinote!” She yelled, as the spirits holding them back seemed to gain a surge of strength and pulled Shaila through the air, slamming her against one of the statues and holding her there.

Hinote struggled vainly for a moment, watching as Shaila was lifted away like a feather on the wind. An indignant anger sparked in her eyes as she turned up to the statue where her friend was being held. “I don’t…have time for this.” A pair of pale green orbs shot out of her sleeves and began to orbit around her person, emitting a momentary flash of light as they emerged. The verdant spheres’ presence seemed to strengthen her, and with a powerful sweep of her arms she wrenched herself free of the oppressive spirits’ grasp.

Shaila meanwhile huffed, frustrated, and planted her hands and feet against the surface of the statue behind her. She set her jaw and glared at the air in front of her indignantly, before gathering her will and pushing herself away from the statue, tearing free from the spirits’ grip and falling through the air to land on her feet in a sprint, bolting over towards Hinote and the exit. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Hinote took off at a run as Shaila approached, careful to stay a little behind her in case something else happened.

They broke through the invisible barrier surrounding the altar with some effort, invisible fingertips brushing against their hair as the spirits attempted to grab hold once more, only to be foiled completely by the same barrier that seemed so insubstantial to the living women. There was the rumbling of a storm as the two of them continued to follow Arrens’ trail on to the next location.

Old Enemies: Intellect, Reason, and The Self
comment 1 Written by on August 2, 2013 – 5:48 pm

This post is brought to you by Hinote. For my readers who are not part of Feathermoon, Hinote is a member of the Order of the Rose, and to say that she and the Wildfire Riders have bad blood is a bit of an understatement (Tarquin once threw her into a volcano. She got better. Yes really). However, this does not extend to our out of game interactions, and… well. You’ll see.

Previous posts in this series include Coming forth by Day, The Magical Rogue, and Demonology 101.

It had been some time since Hinote had made a commitment to stop asking too many questions about how she ended up doing some of the things she inevitably ended up doing. Fate, she’d noticed years ago, was not without a sense of humor, and often an ironic one at that. But there were some things she couldn’t help but dwell on in spite of it. Her current situation was a perfect example of both; there were few things she wanted more than to just not be a part of this, but here she was, coming to the aid of…sworn enemies was perhaps too strong a term – in the grand scheme of things, the Riders were more like an irritation she couldn’t seem to get rid of – but nevertheless people she couldn’t trust and, in all likelihood, didn’t trust her either. And it wasn’t as if it was by coercion or happenstance. Just the opposite, she’d volunteered. And, as a result, she’d spent an inordinate amount of time since then wondering just why she was even bothering.

She stood now in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, alone save for the translucent reflection that stood just before her. It was an antique piece, dating back to the days of the Highborne who originally produced it, and, like most Highborne designs, it was lavishly decorated, with gold filigree around the frame and an old kaldorei inscription along the top that Hinote had never bothered to have translated. Ordinarily she wasn’t prone to such vanity, but the soul mirror was one of the first projects she’d brought home after she’d started digging around old ruins in her spare time, and there was some practical use in a mirror that projected a three-dimensional reflection of whoever stood before it. And what good would it do to just let it sit unused?

So before it she stood, absently combing her hair in the company of her own simulacrum while her mind wandered to current events.

Just stay silent and walk away. You don’t owe them anything. That was her first impulse. Spite was always her first impulse with them. But she’d forfeited the opportunity to follow that impulse when she walked in the door of the Pig and Whistle that night instead of just setting fire to it. It was irksome, but if Pandaria had taught her anything, it was that the cycle was hers to break and nobody else’s. So, for better or for worse, the warlock had elected to be helpful instead. There was no going back on that now.

Hinote shifted her head to the side a bit to get a better angle, then resumed combing. It’s not about debts, she thought to herself. The teeth of the comb snagged on a small knot of hair, and she winced slightly as she pulled it free. The momentary discomfort it afforded her was somewhat indicative of her instinctual response to the whole situation, but both soon subsided. She knew she was right: it wasn’t about debts. It wasn’t about gaining anyone’s favor. That was a game she tried to avoid playing as best she could. It wasn’t even because Shaila had been watching at the time.

She paused for a moment to look over her reflection’s straight, auburn hair. Satisfied, she set the comb down on the dresser adjacent the mirror. The warlock stood there for a bit longer, staring at her own image as if in search of something. Why was any of this even up for questioning? She had her answers; hell, she’d given them to Tarquin when he asked. More importantly, though, she knew they were right. To some, that sort of conviction was irrelevant, but as things currently stood, the knowledge that she was doing the right thing was likely all that was going to carry her through the whole mess.

At least this time it wasn’t her mess.

A knock at the bedroom door got her attention, followed by a girl’s voice. “Mooooom, are we going or what?”

Hinote remained fixated on her reflection for just a second longer, then looked to the door, the beginnings of a smile forming on her lips. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She turned back to the mirror, staring into her own green eyes for another few moments. Finally, she stepped away and towards the door, her reflection disappearing without so much as a sound. Sarah was there to greet her as she opened the door, and she couldn’t help but smile in earnest at the sight of her.

She was worried that Arrens might have gone rogue; that was part of it. She also didn’t trust either of the other warlocks that had been present that night; that was part of it too. More than either of those reasons, though, was the fact that even though she knew almost nothing of Aely or her husband, Hinote understood the predicament she was in, understood the feeling that came with having loved ones just disappear, without notice or warning or explanation. She’d been that person before, and it had occurred to her that night that what she was seeing unfold wasn’t unlike what she’d done to Sarah, to her family, to the Roses, to everyone, a number of times before, whether by choice or by circumstance.

She’d called it sympathy when she told Tarquin, but the truth was it was guilt as well; the somber realization that she had put people through exactly what Arrens was now putting his wife through.

Descent and Ascent

September 8, 2015 – 9:51 pm

It didn’t take long to get from Thunder Bluff to the Echo Isles – Ankona took advantage of a wyvern so she could think and plan before getting to her destination. She had information to confirm with the spirits – …

The Stink Eye, Part II: You remind me of the babe

August 4, 2015 – 12:22 pm

An old story, reposted here as I’m shaking the mothballs off Ankona and needed an easy way to show people a little bit about the (batshit) things she gets up to. Enjoy, and don’t be too creeped out!

It really …

Very First Impressions

November 14, 2014 – 7:32 am

So I haven’t finished the intro quests yet (the server queues from the reduced server capacity due to the DDOS attacks meant I only got about an hour to play yesterday), but I’m finding that Draenor is pretty cool so …

A Girl and her Dog

November 13, 2014 – 12:30 pm

The morning of the all hands summon to the Blasted Lands, Aely went for a walk. The late fall air was clear and cool, and leaves crunched under their feet in the less-traveled parts of the streets. She and Roger …

Counting down to Warlords

November 11, 2014 – 3:09 pm

What a long strange trip it’s been. I’ll be the first to admit that, at the beginning, I wasn’t sure Pandaria was going to be for me. I’ve made clear my dislike of daily quests, and that seemed to be …


October 24, 2014 – 12:01 pm

Squire Benjamin William Sullivan stood in the middle of Light’s Hope Chapel in his underpants.

Actually, it was white linen pants and a shift, but the effect was approximately the same. The little chapel was warm, on the edge of …

Introducing the Newest Anna

June 29, 2014 – 4:39 pm

So I’m not really in a position where I should be creating alts. This, of course, does nothing to deter me from making alts when the inspiration strikes. I’ve been really enjoying my Alliance hunter, and she’s my raiding main …


November 19, 2013 – 4:46 pm

Bad things are happening in Stormwind – and beyond.

The Hand of Lothar, they call themselves.

Yva Darrows was their first target.

Tirith and Aely were their second and third.

They have since… expanded their reach and escalated their methods …

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