The Mind(s) of Madness

[Archivist~Bel]

The Mind(s) of Madness

Author: Jezipali, Stumm, Xanaphia, Kelmorn

Link: forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-scarletcrusade&t=121116&p=1&tmp=1#post121116



JEZIPALI:

The cave was cold at night. The troll shivered, her body’s response to try and stay warm, to keep her circulation going, but she never felt the cold. She had wounds on her arms and legs from fleeing across the lands, tripping and falling from her fear and rush to get as far away from... everything... as fast as possible.

The wounds had bled for several days. Jezi did nothing to stop the blood except watch it ooze down her skin, noting the contrast of the deep red against her pale blue skin. But she never felt the pain.

Wild creatures had caught scent of her blood, scavengers thinking that some easy prey had been felled, traipsed to her cave with hungry, slavering maws. Their stomachs rejoiced when the saw the shivering, apparently helpless troll, unaware of the complexities that humanoid eyes could show.


Anger was perhaps the only emotion Jezi had left to feed on. Cold, bitter anger that froze her mind; forcing it to rewatch the battle of Caer Darrow over and over again. From her eyes, this anger shown, as she glared at the beasts that came to her hideaway.

These bold creatures, with their snarling lips, did nothing to assuage her. Her lips and skin were chapped with the cold, but her hands and soul burned with a fire hotter than the lava of Blackrock Mountain.

For the first time since she had begun her training as a mage, blisters formed on her hands. The heat was too much. It burned too long, too real, too hot. The creatures that assaulted her yelped in pain as their fur blazed with the magical fire. Some tried to run away, others tried to fight. Regardless of their path, she killed them all. Some she burned to ashes, some she left as mutated, hairless, charred bodies, to warn away other predators that might think her helpless.

She spent most of her days staring at the blisters on her hands. There was a muted twinge of sorrow as a tiny voice in a very small, repressed part of her mind spoke forth the thought:

“You’re losing your gift...”

She shook her head violently, viciously twisting her neck from side to side, her entire body rocking with her in response.

“No. This is my gift. I’m stronger now. My magic is stronger. I’m not losing anything... not losing,” she mumbled to herself.

And then it came to her. The startling thought that she had come upon on the isle of Caer Darrow, was now back with a force.

“This!” she said staring at her charred and blistered palms, “This is what they were after! They knew... they knew about my power. They knew what was hiding within me. They wanted it. Wanted it for themselves. They can’t have it. It’s mine. My power.”

She breathed heavily, holding one hand within the other and clutching them to her chest.

“They’ll come for it you know. Come for you. You can’t let them take you again. They’ll try and convince you again. Try and make you think that they still care. Don’t let them fool you. You’re smarter than that. Smarter than them.”

She nodded her head vigorously, “Yes. They’ll come. But they can’t have it. I’ll use it against them. I’ll use this thing that they crave, this power. Perhaps when their skin chars to ash they’ll realize... Yes... yesssss,” she hissed under her breath.

“Can’t sleep anymore. No time to sleep. They’re coming for you. You’ve rested enough. Must stay awake, stay alert for when they come. Always watching. Always waiting. They’re coming for you.”

And with that, the shivering troll mage sat with her back firmly pressed against the back wall of the cave, her emotionless eyes staring out into the dark night, and then into the day, and then into the night once more.

They hadn’t come yet. But they would. She knew that they would.



~~~



STUMM:

So, with no further ado, panic-induced quick writing ftw! ))

Clouds drifted listlessy over the Azsharan landscape, the rocky cliffs bearing witness to a roiling sea. Creatures calm and feral both went about their business, meandering along their usual paths, feeding in the usual spots, engaging in the usual activity. And yet, there was something unusual in the idyllic landscape.

There was a cave. Scorched, ashen bodies lay strewn about it almost idly, the grass from the cave mouth outwards withered away and dead from intense blasts of heat. The rock seemed to be slowly oozing downward, frozen in motion, as if a particularly explosive blast caught the stone and began to melt it. The drips hung over the cave mouth like teeth, the darkness inside beckoning the unwary to enter the maw. And from the darkness there was a piercing glare, from two bright red points of light. Eyes.

Stumm regarded this grim image from an outcropping of grass a solid three hundred feet away, knowing the power needed to alter the landscape so. He folded up his Red Admiral's spyglass, the crimson and gold tube etched with a single silver K, a memento from a past long gone by. The grey beast sighed, and adjusted his belt with his usual frown. The marks of fatigue that seemed a part of his usual mannerisms had returned: the Tauren reeked of sweat and blood.

That search wasn't so long.
You're sure that's her in there?
You see the pattern of those blasts. The heat they made. You've fought beside her long enough to recognize it.
Sometimes, I just hate your logic.
My logic is your logic. We're the same bloody person.
What did I just say?

Setting his jaw in grim determination, Stumm tucked the folded spyglass into some back pocket, pulling the Bane from where he left it lodged in a rock. He had grown fond of sticking the weapon through things most metal couldn't begin to scratch. A touch of arrogance.

So, once more you go headlong into danger. Look at that cave. I don't think the woman is in the sanest state of mind.
Animals frighten her, right? Everything frightens that woman. Maybe she's just scared.
Scared enough to torture the animals before killing them? Burning away the legs and leaving them to slowly twitch away their life? Look, that one's still moving. That could be you in about twenty minutes.
That's a risk I'm willing to take.
Don't tell me you CARE.
Alright then, I won't tell you.

Taking a moment to place an oath to the Elements, requesting that they kindly not allow him to be incinerated by arcane conjurations of their power, Stumm began tiredly clomping towards the cave mouth.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

She heard the whimpering of her latest kill. Well… not so much kill… since it was still alive. Scavengers kept coming to feed about the bodies she roasted at the mouth of her cave, and scavengers kept burning and dying, just like all those before them. She had gotten more creative in her killings, leaving them to feel the pain before the finally suffered their way toward death, letting them suffer, as she had. Completely alone, scared, confused, with their bodies and minds aching in pain.

Torture, some would call it. Life is what she deemed it.

She heard something else approaching now. Too soon to be another carrion feeder. The steps were too measured, too patient. Not an animal at all then.

They've come… you knew they would. They're here now. Are you ready? Yes… yes of course we are. We've been ready for this since…

How long had it been now? She had lost track of the days…

A shadow fell across the mouth of her cave, a very large, familiar shadow that had once evoked thoughts of friendship and feelings of happiness.

Now there was only that cold, burning hatred. He used her, as they all had. It was his fault this had happened. His fault and all the others.

Where were the others? Not far behind she was sure… Probably watching him from below as he approached her hideaway.

Well… then he will be our example to them. Show them the power that they crave, show them what they have been after for so long. When that grey beast lies crying on the ground, then they'll see… They'll know… and they'll leave. Forever. Then everything will be quiet and good. Everything will be right.

Shhh… here now. He comes.

A bright light illuminated the back of the cave as the troll stood to face the enemy that had once been a dear friend. Her hands were glowing orange, and she could feel fresh blisters bursting forth puss on her hands. The whole cave was now alight from the fire that flared at her fingertips, and as soon as the massive beast of a Tauren rounded the final bend to the front of her cave, she let loose her creation with a maniacal cackle of pure, seething hatred.



~~~



STUMM:

OK. You thought she wasn't beyond saving. Now she's hurling fireballs at you.
A minor setback.
But I LIKE my flesh.
You've had worse. What'd we do the last time...?

Unslinging the Treant's Bane , Stumm met the fireball unflinchingly in an upwards sweep, the flame splitting off to either side as the ancient metal tore through it. Another fireball was met with another stroke, the Tauren slowly walking forward, carving his way through the deadly missiles with almost an almost casual attitude.

"Dammit woman, cut this out!" he growled, hoping to appeal to the Troll with sense. No such luck. With one last slash, the grey titan slammed the Treant's Bane through the wall, reaching for Jezipali's outstretched hands. One last fireball found its way to his right shoulder, spinning him around and igniting his side. One grab, one tug, and the crazed Troll was hanging from Stumm's left hand, her wrists pinned by his mighty fist as she snarled and spat curses. Her feet kicked at empty air.

"Found you."



~~~



JEZIPALI:

A primitive screech tore itself from the mage’s throat, her legs kicking wildly, swaying her entire body that was held tight by the grasp of the monstrous Tauren. Her mind was screaming at her, bringing back the blinding pain that she had long since forgotten during her hiatus.

Everything rushed back to her at once, and she felt the screaming pain of the blisters on her hands, the heart-wrenching sorrow of watching her love stab his sword clean through her best friend, the horror of seeing Stumm defend the fallen warrior, her body’s aching need to eat which she had neglected since she had run away, the bitter cold that enveloped her in her thin dress and hood.

And as quickly as it had come, it left once again. She stopped thrashing, stopped kicking, and went completely limp, hanging defenselessly in the air by her wrists. She stared at the ground in front of her, watching the cold stone as if she expected it to move at any second.

“Stumm...” came the soft, monotone voice. “You can’t have it you know... you may have found me... but you can’t have it.”

She lifted her head slowly toward the Tauren that held her so effortlessly, “I knew you would come.” Her voice changed into an angry hiss, “I knew...”

Jezi’s gaze went once more to the cold stone floor where she had slept many nights, shivering but never quite feeling the chill of the night. “Let me go,” she said quietly, though a part of her mind knew that her request was in vain.

You almost had him too. If you had hit him once more... maybe twice... his body would be littered among those carrion dogs outside. Soon... soon he won’t be paying attention... soon he’ll think himself safe... and then... then we can be rid of him for what he did to us.

“Yesss...” she hissed under her breath. A wicked smirk spread across her face marring her once serenely happy features.

She was good at being patient. She knew it wouldn’t take long for the Tauren to put his guard down... and as soon as he did, the winds to whom he had so often called to would be blowing his ashes away. She would be rid of him, and she would be alone once more.



~~~



STUMM:

Stumm stared deadpan at the Mage hanging from his fist. He wasn't stupid. He had messed with this type before. She was just going to wait until he turned his back, until he let his guard down, and then bam. He would be dead.

Of course, the decided question here is how the hell the delicate and bubbly troll named Jezipali had become this cold, emotionless backstabber that he has holding a few feet off the cave floor.

What does it matter? You're going to die one day anyways. Might as well be at the hand of a friend.
I'm not going to die.
That's what they all say.
Forgive my lack of originality.

Stumm gently lowered the Troll to the floor, his side still smouldering. Green energies wafted over the wound, the flesh mending and burns melting away as the Elements restored what should be. The energies flowed down the Tauren's arm and across the Troll's, mending the old wounds she still carried. The blisters still coated her hands, a grim reminder of her new mentality.

Stumm stepped back, the Bane across the cave, his hands empty, his guard lowered. "Go on, then. Kill me. If you think this is what you are, then strike."

For all of the man's hate, for all of his bluster, for all of his rage... nothing tinged his face at that moment but sorrow and regret.

And, of course, he pretended that the small, shimmering Grounding Totem that had appeared behind his thick obscuring leg was not there at all.

You're crazy, and yet devious. You continue to impress me.
I'm you and you're me, dumbass. So you're just impressing yourself.
How very... egotistical.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

As soon as her feet hit the ground, Jezi scrambled on hands and knees away from the Tauren, crouched protectively against the back wall of her cave. Her eyes darted around frantically, like those of a wild animal. She was cornered, but she didn’t care. He called for her to strike, called for her to kill him.

And why shouldn’t she? He deserved every ounce of pain that she could inflict upon him.

But she looked down at her hands, that had been blistered moments before. Small scars could still be seen from old wounds, but the skin was soft and whole again. Why had he done this? Why did he care if she was well or ailing? She didn’t care... she couldn’t feel the pain anyway... there was no need to heal when nothing hurt...

Her eyes traveled back to the Tauren, eyeing him suspiciously as he called for her to attack.

Don’t let him fool you. You’re smarter than that. Smarter than him. Something’s wrong, he’s trying to trick you again.

She shook her head violently, hands coming up to cover her ears.

I don’t care! she screamed in her mind, trying to quiet the voice that kept whispering to her ceaselessly. She glared at Stumm, raising slowly to her feet, her hands glowing orange once more. The smell of burning flesh became strong as she released her fireball, her own small hands left charred and swollen from the heat.

But Stumm simply stood there, and did nothing. As if her shot hadn’t wounded him at all. She screeched at him in anger, and scrambled back to her corner. She stared down at her hands, feeling the blood throbbing in them and knowing that they should hurt. Her palms were already starting to blister again. The intensity of the heat was simply too much for mortal flesh to bear.

Yet, why didn’t it hurt the Tauren? Why hadn’t it burned him as it had burned her? It had hurt him once... why not again? What was going on? Why wasn’t he screaming with flesh burning, writhing on the floor in agony?

Her small hands clenched into fists and released, and she repeated the motion several times over, with no real purpose.

Without turning her gaze from her charred flesh she hissed at Stumm as he stood, blocking her exit from the cave, “Leave me."

She muttered under her breath, almost incoherent ramblings, "Don't know why it didn't... why... should... Didn't... burn. Why?"

I toooold yooou came the sing-song reply. He tricked you again, like he always does. Why do you let him do that? You know you're smarter than him. Stop letting him get the upperhand. You have such power at your fingertips and yet you sit huddled in the corner like a frightened child. Stupid, impatient girl. Learn to wait. He wanted you to attack him. He was ready for you. Wait. Wait for him to let his guard down. Then strike. Not when he calls. You're not under his command. You don't have to listen to him.

She nodded her head slightly as she listened to the voice in her mind. Yes... she would wait. She had acted too rashly. She had done just as he wanted her to do, just as he bid her. She wouldn't do it again. She would wait, she would be patient. Then everything would come together once more.



~~~

[Archivist~Bel]

STUMM:

Well, that was lucky.
I'll have you know I was prepared for every outcome.
And if she had, in fact, shot more than one blast?
... I'd wing it.
A most confident answer.
Quiet, you.

Stumm blinked slowly, sighed, seemed to sag as if a great weight had just settled on his shoulders. He turned to leave the cave, resting an arm on the wall as he leaned over to pick up the Bane.

Halfway through the motion, his teeth clenched, his head sweeping back up to glare at the rock wall in rage as if it was the one responsible for all of this. His mailed fist slammed once, twice, thrice into the stone, stone chips and dust showering in the air. A dull growl built to a roar, pent-up rage being released as he pummelled the rock. Great slamming noises filled the cave as if a knell of doom, the Tauren's fist smashing down again and again.

The dust settled, the chips settled to the floor. The wall was gouged, broken. A slab of rock broke off and tumbled to the floor, where it split in two again. Stumm heaved in madness, his hand dripping blood onto the bare stone where it faintly steamed from the ambient heat. The stone was hot from the recent fireballs.

The grey giant didn't say a word as he shot a look of pure venom at the muttering Troll, grabbing the Bane and clomping down the cave tunnel.

That was unexpected.
Wouldn't you be pissed, too?
I thought I was you and you were me. And we were him.
Sometimes, this body of ours does completely unexpected things.

Striding back into the blazing sunlight, Stumm held his hand up before him. Blood flowed down his forearm, the mailed rings smashed and ground into his flesh. It was a ruined hand. A Broken Fist.

Already mumbling to himself nd picking metal from the meat of his hand, Stumm sat at the mouth of the cave to await his charge.

Why do we go through such trouble?
Damned if I know. Inflated sense of duty?
Guilt?
Responsibility?
Or maybe we're just nuts.



~~~



STUMM:

Metal thunked to earth.

Again, and again.

Blood fell in the dust.

Drop after drop.

Stumm sat upon a fallen log outside the grim haunt that was this cave, almost lazily picking metal from his hand. The flesh was torn, ripped, sc#@!&d. His fist would gain a new swath of scars. But before the healing could begin, the foreign material had to be removed.

Why do you bother?

Stumm straightened, his task forgotten as he shifted to internal dialogue. Red leaves lightly drifted from the trees like reminders of the blood the Tauren had shed.

I bother... because it is my duty.
Assigned by whom?
You can give duty to yourself.
Tripe. You're doing this for an entirely different reason.
And what would that be?
You CARE.
I am FIXING what is WRONG.
What's wrong isn't your fault.
Now THAT'S tripe. This is my fault.
Might I bring up the whole Grubb fiasco, that most likely lies at the root of this? Why did you care then?
... Someone had to keep the bloody woman safe.
Why did the task fall to you?
Duty.
Are you unforgiven, too?
What?
Recall the last time you followed a ladytype about. Although, that time you were getting something in return.
You will NOT speak of her like that!
How chivalrous.
THAT was my fault too.
No it wasn't. You did your best. Get up, move on.
Never.
So you're determined to redeem yourself in your own eyes.
I have to live with myself. Nobody else does.
She does, now. Stubborn bastard.
Just until it's over.
And then what? You forget all your glory and slip into the mists of history? The children will sit around the fire, telling tales of Old Mr. Stumm, the man too selfless to every do anything for himself. That's what your after, isn't it? Being remembered fondly after you die?
I live for the here, for the now, fixing what is wrong.
Again, how noble. You're a bloody saint.

Stumm growled, setting back to his task. The inner dialogue forgotten, the metal fell to earth.

Again and again.

Blood fell in the dust.

Drop after drop.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Jezi crawled slowly forward to the mouth of the cave, only an inch or so at a time so that the shaman sitting outside would not notice her movements. She had no real curiosity for what he was doing; she simply wanted to keep an eye on him in case he tried… anything.

She had watched his inane attack on the cave wall with a grim smile; watched him hurt himself, and walk away with hands dripping of blood and mangled flesh. It brought something akin to glee to her heart, but only for a moment before that too was snuffed out and she went back to feeling nothing once more.

He's up to something. What's he doing out there? Just sitting… like that? He's plotting something. Something to hurt us again. You know he is. You can see it in his face as he sits there picking at his flesh.

A small muted feeling of pity suddenly flashed into her mind, What's he thinking I wonder? Thinking about me? About what he's done? Perhaps how to fix this…

NO! the voice screamed, and Jezi jumped back as if stung. He doesn't CARE about you! If he cared he wouldn't have hurt you in the first place. Don't be so damn naïve! Open your eyes girl. Look at what he's done to you. Don't you remember anything?

And then through her mind came her first meeting of Grubb. He had saved her life three times in one day. She had thought him such a valiant beast, and had grown very fond of him very quickly. She saw then random meetings with Stumm, and she could see now the shifty-eyed looks that gave away his charade. She saw when she confronted him with it, how he seemed appalled that she should ever doubt him. But she knew it was true. She could read it so plainly in his face now. But she could also see pain there, a sorrow for… for what?

For being found out girl…he wanted to keep it a secret so that you would keep trusting him with your dark secrets. He wanted nothing more from you than to use you. You can see it now can't you?

Jezi nodded her head and crouched against the wall, keeping her eyes on the grey Tauren outside her hideaway. Her eyes hardened, the momentary lapse of anger was now gone, and returning ten fold as she glared at him, her breath coming in gasps.

She could feel her anger consuming her, burning within her, and her hands started to glow once more. The fire burned brightly, so hot that it scorched parts of her robe and created more blisters on her already aching hands.

Yet she never let the spell fly. She simply kept it there, burning her flesh and clothes, glaring with an unfaltering anger at the beast that would not let her be. There was a small part of her mind that screamed for her to stop, for her to take mercy on herself, but Jezi could not hear it. She was lost to the only emotion she had left, feeding off of her bitter, seething hatred because she simply had nothing else left.



~~~



STUMM:

The smell of cooking meat and burning cloth drifted over to the Tauren, floating on the breeze and hanging in the air like a foreboding mist. The last chain link fell to ground, Stumm regarding his crimson hand with an appraising look. There was the glint of bone, here and there, and he shrugged. The sight of his own insides had long since ceased to frighten him.

Thick green light crept up from the earth at his feet, wending and contorting around his body until it reached his fist. It circled and swathed the appendage like a swarm of bees orbits a nest, dying away to reveal a completely healed stretch of grey skin crossed with a thousand tiny scars.

Nodding a faint approval to nobody but himself, the Tauren stood up, straightened. The stench of roasting flesh was thicker in the air now, and the titan sighed as he threw an arm towards the Troll he wasn't even regarding. A shock of green light reflected off white trunks, and the smell snapped out of the air.

She's been holding that blast a damn long time. Maybe she's aiming to finish the job.
And if she is?
... You get the !&$% out of there?
What do I care if I die?
I thought just now you were rambling on about saving lives and setting things right and whatever else.
If I don't do it, someone else will.
So why not let someone else do it?
Because they'd !&$% it up.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

She felt the healing wave wash over her body, felt the near melted flesh of her hands become whole once more. Almost immediately the blaze around her tiny blue hands stopped, though she continued to glare at the Tauren.

“Why do you keep doing that?” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t need you at all! And yet you’re still here, sitting here, waiting for something that’s never going to happen! When I got away from you… from you and the others the pain stopped. Everything stopped. It was quiet and good and peaceful and then you came BACK!” She screeched out the last word, her hands clenching and unclenching as she spoke.

“This is your fault anyway! Yours and Xana’s and Kelmorn’s! I can see now, you know. I know why you all did this.” She continued her psychotic hand motions, and they were occasionally accompanied by a spark of flame that engulfed her fist before vanishing. “I know why you’re here. I know what you think you can do. But you CAN’T! I know what you are now. I can see what you are. I can see everything…” her voice quieted to a whisper before fading out completely.

Shhhh, the voice in her mind said. No reason to screech at him so. He won’t stop trying to convince you that he’s still your friend. You know that. Save your strength, you’re going to need it if you want to be free of him. He won’t go down easily. You know that. He’s got all of those shamanistic tricks up his sleeves. He’ll do everything he can to stop you.

Except for physically harm me, she replied mentally. He’ll try and stop me, but he won’t hurt me… because if he hurts me he’s going to risk losing that thing he’s chased after for so long. He wouldn’t do that. So I have a lot more leeway than I thought…

She nodded her head slowly, her hand motions finally ceasing as she simply sat gripping the sides of her slightly charred dress.

There you see? That’s the clever girl I know. We’ll find a way to make him pay for what he did… we’ll find a way to make them all pay.



~~~



STUMM:

Stumm watched the display from the corner of his eye, still seemingly engrossed in studying his renewed fist. As she screamed and fumed, as fire snapped around her, a smile grew across the Tauren's face.

It was about the time that she sat there, clutching at herself and whispering to an unknown voice, that the titan began to laugh. Deep, booming guffaws, that seemed to shake the boughs of the trees themselves and send leaves falling to the ground.

You do know you're as nuts as she is.
I thought you were clever enough to have picked up on that by now.
I have a flair for stating the obvious.

Stumm turned to greet the psychotic Troll with a beaming grin, his arms spread wide to the sun.

"You have no idea what you see," the grey Titan spoke with veiled threat masking his seemingly overjoyed posture. "You're lost in your own self-borne darkness."

Snapping his fingers, a bolt of clean elemental flame popping off them with a crack, Stumm moved into a deep swaying bow.

"And despite whatever the hell you say, I'm here to be the beacon back. Whether you want me or not."

This is going to get you killed one day. Probably within the week.
What? The smartass attitude? The showing off? The complete and total lack of a feeling of self-preservation?
Well, I'd say all three and more, but the smartass attitude is showing through the most right now.
Touche.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

She watched him like a predator stalking a wounded animal. Her eyes were narrow slits beneath her hood, questioning the strange behavior of the shaman who stood before her.

Why in the –world- was he laughing at her? Was he mad? Yes... yes that must be it. He was crazy. Absolutely crazy. She nodded her head in agreement with herself, trying to focus her mind on what the Tauren was saying.

Beacon? What was he on about now? Nothing he said made sense... everything was garbled in her mind, and she couldn’t quite figure out what he was talking about. She shook her head violently, in an attempt to clear her mind, though it didn’t help very much at all.

“You’re speaking nonsense...” she mumbled, her scarred hands moving up to clutch the sides of her head. A throbbing sensation had began at her temples, the rhythm of her blood drowning out the other sounds of the world. “I don’t need you here. I don’t... I don’t need anyone.”

Though in her own mind Jezi believed what she said wholeheartedly, it was obvious to anyone who looked upon her that she was lying. Her skin was pale, her face was gaunt, her skin was stretched as if too tight over her bones. Her ribs could be plainly seen through her dress, and perhaps the most obvious features of her newfound mania were her poor deformed hands.

“I don’t need others... don’t need anyone... Others just hurt. They cause... pain. Bad... don’t need them. No, we don’t need them. We’re fine... just fine...” she spoke softly aloud, though she wasn’t aware of it. “They always hurt us... always. Better alone, we don’t hurt us. No... just them. So much pain...” Her voice trailed off as she began to rock slightly, clutching at herself with her burned and blistered hands.



~~~

[Archivist~Bel]

STUMM:

The Troll woman who was once shocked, frightened and appalled at seeing a Druid shift forms from man to Bear curled into herself, clutching and mumbling in delirium.

Stumm sighed, seeming to collapse with the conclusion of his charade. She was beyond interaction, now, gone deep into the recesses of her own mind to wrest with whatever demons she found there. Dead to the world, for now.

Stumm smirked a little. He knew the feeling.

Hands glowing with green energy, jumping from Tauren to Troll, Stumm knelt to pick up the little creature in his arms. Flesh was renewed once more as the green light winked out.

Stumm sighed, carrying the woman with all the discomfort of a bachelor forced to hold a baby at a party. "You're going to have to stop that whole self-burning thing," he noted to nobody in particular.

The grey titan whistled sharply, the sound sending birds flying from the trees as an increasingly loud rumble knelled off the rocks of Azshara.

Stumm looked down at his self-given charge, the Troll muttering to herself and twitching in her daze. She wouldn't survive much longer alone out here. She had to get back to Orgrimmar.

With one final crash, a tree exploded to the side as a titanic force intentionally smashed it apart. A blur of steel and grey flesh whooshed to a stop as a mighty armoured Kodo, with glaring eyes and piercing horn, stood in the disturbed clearing.

"Let's roll out, Ironhide," Stumm spoke forcefully, the hint of an order in his voice. "I want to bloody go to ORGRIMMAR this time, not where your fancy'd carry me, and I advise you not push me on the matter."

The Kodo snorted forcefully and rustled his armour plates, eager to be on the move.

Well, you're bringing the crazy woman into the heart of civilization. Good idea?
I think I know a place. Somewhere quiet, in the Drag. At least she'll be warm there, maybe we can convince her to eat.
Or force her.
I thought you were against me on this.
If I'm not going to get my way, might as well help you do yours properly.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Part of her consciousness understood what was going on as Stumm transported her as quickly as he could back to Orgrimmar, though the majority of herself was completely lost, mumbling senselessly to herself and completely ignoring the bumping journey upon the back of the armored Kodo.

If she had been normal, if her mind had never snapped, this would have been a highlight in her life. She had always adored kodos, and had longed for the Tauren to allow her to ride one of their fantastically powerful beasts. But thoughts and hopes for the future were now lost on her. She saw nothing but the darkness that shadowed her own mind, and felt nothing but the dull, throbbing pain that muted out the world. Her hands flared with her supercharged fire, flashing and dying, leaving black marks on her palms.

She thrashed wildly at one point during their travels, nearly throwing herself from Ironhide’s back, but luckily Stumm kept his grip on the ailing troll woman. Her mind buckled from the stress of all that she had been put through, and her body was failing because of what she had done to herself. Her eyes stared out from her cowl, dead and emotionless, as if she weren’t truly seeing anything that passed by.

It wasn’t until they reached the West entrance to the city that her eyes began to see once more. She blinked heavily, staring dumbfounded as they passed by the houses and vendors. She shrieked her discontent at the harsh rays of the sun, pulling her cowl further over her face and curling up into a ball.

Then it was dark once more. A cool, welcoming darkness. Much like her cavern in Azshara. She peeked out cautiously, then suddenly realized exactly where she sat. She struggled and tried to scramble away, but Stumm’s grip held her firm atop the kodo. Had she been at her full strength, it might have been possible for her to get away from him, but her body and mind were weak, and it wasn’t long before she exhausted herself of her struggles, and fell fast asleep in the powerful Tauren’s arms.



~~~



STUMM:

Stumm sighed (again), laying the Troll in a free hammock as he could hear his Kodo snorting in the street. The mage was sleeping with eerie silence, not a mumble or hint of a breath passing her lips. Only by observing a very faint heave of her gaunt chest could one ascertain that she was even alive.

Looking about the shabby dwelling, Stumm frowned. The small room, built upon the many other buildings crowding the streets of the Drag, was barely large enough to accomodate the wide-shouldered Tauren. But it wasn't a cave in chilly Azshara, and so it would serve.

Why do you bother?
Must you keep asking that?
Must you keep avoiding the question?
I'm not avoiding the question.
See, you just did it again.
Shut up.
And again-
Shut up.

Sighing again, as was his idiom, Stumm grabbed a discarded, itchy woolen blanket off the floor and threw it over the woman with a sort of disgusted grunt.

I never thought I'd catch myself being a babysitter to a crazy woman who can't take care of herself.
You do know that blanket's filthy.
I never said I'd be good at it.

Muttering curses to himself under his breath, Stumm shut the room's door behind him as he went off in search of edible, and affordable, foodstuffs.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Complete and total peace settled over the troll’s features as she gave in to her exhaustion. Her mind was blank once more, blissfully empty of the scenes that had been haunting her for so long. No pain, no thoughts, no words could reach her where she was. Unfortunately, her blissful emptiness was not to last.

She awoke, unsure of how long she had slept, thoroughly confused at where she was. A flimsy hammock held her and a dirty blanket was dra-ped hap hazardously over her body. It was quiet here, and there was a warm fire glowing from a nearby brazier. Admittedly this was much more pleasant than the frigid cave she had grown used to, but the sounds of people walking by, conversing, laughing, and just... –being- was all but too much for the woman to handle.

Forgetting where she was nearly instantaneously, she thrashed about, throwing the blanket off of herself, and trying to scramble as far away from the door as she could manage.

Unfortunately her violent movements threw her unceremonious from the hammock, causing her to land in a heap on the floor. She hissed in anger, at nothing in particular, and scurried away to the darkest corner she could find. Jezi clutched at herself wondering how and why she was here, and more importantly why was she not still in her cave?

Everything came back to her in a rush – Stumm finding her, her attack on him, folding into her own mind, the glaring sunlight, the comforting darkness, flailing in frantic distress, and then the blissful quiet.

So it had been Stumm that brought her here. Well... then where was he now? Did he simply deposit her off in town and flee, leaving her to her own designs?

No... even in her delerium she couldn’t believe that. He would be back, and he would try to convince her once more that he still cared. She knew that he didn’t. She knew what he was after. But he would be back, because he was stubborn and completely moronic.

Glancing around herself, she crawled slowly to the door on her hands and knees. Perhaps he didn’t leave very long ago... perhaps she could sneak away from him and get somewhere quiet and secluded...

Jezi opened the door so that it was barely open enough for her to see out into the Drag. Stumm was luckily nowhere in sight. That meant she could have time to get away from. Perfect... but where could she hide? She needed to be somewhere dark and quiet... far away from the masses of people that frequented the city.

Shadows. The Cleft of Shadows.

There was a place in there... what was it called? She had gone there once, long ago when she was much weaker than this.

Ragefire Chasm. She could hide there. It was quiet and dark. No one would ever think to look for her there. They would probably think she had escaped to some far off place, they would never guess that she would stay right under their noses, hiding almost in plain view.

It was perfect.



~~~



KELMORN:

Snow churned up under the shrill wind, it’s whistling carrying the faint sound of weapons clattering, a cry, and a curse, then the shatter of weapons once more.

Snow kicked up a bit as a dodge was made, sending a body hitting into a snow bank, Kelmorn threw his body out of the bank to dodge a massive hammer as it pounded against the snow. Kelmorn stood slowly and evenly, clutching the worn blades of Dal’Rend, his faintly glowing eyes seemed to drag in this horrible weather, but his foe came on. Down came the massive hammer again, a side step, brought him clear, but the hammer twisted his way once more, duck, jab, parry, roll, the dance was steady and unrelenting.

Churning his massive dead mussels the corpse brought his weapon to bear against Kelmorn, he could feel the scourge in him, almost call out to it, but Kelmorn was no longer fair game it seemed. He felt the vibration from a quick stab from Kelmorn, it didn’t matter he would heal those soon enough.

Kelmorn felt the ground leave his feet as the weapon hit him full on, sending him flying through the air, he hit the ground.

“Aww shi-“ Kelmorn’s mind managed to make out before the weapon came down.



~~~



STUMM:

... Why do you bother?
Let's not start this again.
But I do so love hearing the excuses.

Stumm clomped down the dark alleyways of the Drag, what little light from overhead being blotted out by the smoky haze that filled the covered gorge. Refuse and rodentia clustered in the corners as the Tauren negotiated the narrow maze of haphazardly built buildings that had piled and grown on each other like mushrooms on a fallen log.

Clutched under his arm was a small bundle, containing what edibles he could find for the small amount of cash he could spare. At least, Stumm hoped they were edible.

Pushing open the door to the abandoned hovel he had located, a quick glance across the space revealed that his charge was, in fact, no longer present.

A titanic, rumbling roar filled the city of Orgrimmar. Occupants and shopkeepers both briefly considered the possibility that a dragon of immense size and girth had descended on the capital in a rage, before going about their business with a shrug and fatalist attitude.

Exploding from the tight alleyways with eyes that seemed to blaze with fire, Stumm grabbed up the nearest thing he could find roaming the wide Drag street. Slamming the thing against the wooden side of one of the nearby buildings, he screamed something into its face that may have been Orcish, may have been Taurahe, or may have been instructions for how to make peach cobbler in Daemonic.

The Orgrimmar Grunt's eyes darted around in confusion before he uttered the first thing that came to mind.

"Uhm... For the Warchief?"

With another bellowing roar, Stumm slammed the Orc against the wall again, splintering the timber and creating a crater in the surface. Letting the groaning heap drop to the stones below, Stumm turned away and began pacing, his whole body shivering with rage as he growled, grunted and babbled to himself.

I did it again. I !&$%ing did it again.
The only thing more regular than your incompetence is your random outbursts of unfocused rage.
Don't you see? I did it again. I swore to keep the woman out of harm. Safe. Alive. And I bungled it again.
... Bungled. I love that word. Bungled. Say it with me.
I hate you.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Jezi scurried down the streets of the city, slinking as far away from everyone she came across as possible. She managed to make it to the Cleft of Shadows without any event, her eyes darting quickly around, trying to remember the way into the Chasm.

A gruff sound came from behind her, someone clearing their throat. She spun around quickly, her dagger somehow finding its way into her hand. The unsuspecting orc took several steps back, holding his hands up before him to show that he had meant no offense. Jezi hissed at him, an angry feral sound, before swiftly turning back around and running down the ramp deeper into the Cleft.

Where was it? She knew it was here somewhere… This place wasn't that big! Why couldn’t' she find it?

Just then she heard a monstrous roar that shook the cavern of the Cleft of Shadows. Well, she thought with a grim smile, it appears that Stumm has found that we're missing.

No time to dally girl. Get moving before he finds you again. Stop and think a moment… Where is this damn place? You've been there before… very long ago.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the second crashing roar that echoed through the cavern. Her eyelids fluttered open and she turned about, dashing down into a secluded section of the Cleft. Before her stood the gaping maw of Ragefire Chasm. How scared she had been when she first saw this place, but now it was to be her hiding place. Her new escape from everything she hated, since her cavern in Azshara had been so abruptly taken from her.

Without so much as a glance behind her, she darted into the cavern, the dark, smoky air hiding her almost immediately from view.



~~~



STUMM:

Stumm exhaled slowly, putting down the twin halves of the oaken sign he had just broken in twain. The Drag suffused with dim light around him, the shadows seeming to mock his failures.

Rational. Rational. Let the emotion flow away. Stay calm.
Easy for you to say.
I'm you, wiseass. Remember?

Stumm calmly turned to an Orc watching him destroy parts of Orgrimmar's slums and politely intoned: "Excuse me, did you see a... bat$!@% insane Troll woman running around here?"

The Orc grinned at him. "Tha's no' a question I 'ear often, but I know wha' yer lookin' fer. I saw yer Troll lady, an' I saw her 'eadin' deeper into the Cleft o' Shadders."

Stumm grimaced. "She's not my Troll, thanks. I'm just looking after her."

With nary another word, Stumm set out at a sprint for the mentioned cavern.

Like a little boy who lost his pet.
Cute.
Isn't it just?

Smoke, curling lazily to the ceiling. Heat, billowing and suffocating.Foreboding rock.

"Ragefire Chasm..."

Why didn't he think of it before? Stumm leapt down from the causeway above onto the threshold of the cave with a thunderous crash, peering into the blackened depths.

So now you know where she is. You gonna go charging in yet?
... No.
No?
I know where she is. I've been in those caves, plumbed the depths. There are no other exits. Just gotta pay someone who lives here off, keep an eye on the cave mouth.. she'll do well enough for herself in there. Might as well leave the woman an impression of independence.
Aren't you clever.
Not really. If I was, we wouldn't be in this mess.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

The quiet had finally returned to her once more. Her mind was empty of thought as she sat amongst the charred bodies of troggs that had tried to stop her from taking over their home. She had burned them without so much as a thought, and she sat now, curled up against the wall of the large cavern, her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes glassy.

The warmth of the cave helped lull her into unconsciousness, and she was completely oblivious to the dead bodies that lay scattered about her as she finally allowed herself to rest.

Everything was peaceful again. Her poor mind and body were exhausted from her effort, and slowly her eyes fluttered closed. She slept sitting up, her head leaning against the wall at her side. In her mind there was only darkness. No dreams haunted her sleep; no thoughts crept in as her mind allowed itself a brief respite from its normal flurried pace.

Quiet, warm, and more peaceful than she had been in days, Jezi slept soundly cuddled up against the hard stone wall of the cave. Her mind and body were dead to the world, drifting listlessly through the empty darkness that filled her thoughts.



~~~

[Archivist~Bel]

XANAPHIA:

Xanaphia Nailo wasn’t in the best of moods. She’d been thinking for a long time in Caer Darrow, alone in the Magistrate’s hall. And her conclusion was that this whole debacle could have been avoided. If only she’d thought. Hiding out above the Scholomance? Yeah, that was a great idea. Now dozens of her friends were dead. All the workers that they’d hired to help repair the keep. The warlock hired to reinforce the wards. Reah had run away – clearly she didn’t trust her Big Sister anymore. Valerin had followed, and now they were both lost… presumably through the Dark Portal.

And poor Jezipali. The battle there at the keep had cracked her mind. Not that she was all that stable to begin with. It was understandable – seeing the man you love murdering your best friend? Not really something you can just walk away from. And since Xanaphia was the best friend in question… she couldn’t help but feel more than a little responsible. Besides, Jezipali was probably the only thing Xana could fix, now. She couldn’t bring back the dead she’d failed. She couldn’t follow Reah and Valerin through the Portal – Fel knows, she’d tried. But she just might be able to help save the troll.

She knew Stumm had gone after Jezipali, riding off into the northlands of Kalimdor. He hadn’t asked her for help – he never did, the stubborn bull – but she had ways and means of tracking his movements. She knew he’d found her the moment he brought her back into Orgrimmar. This was a difficult situation, now. Xanaphia trusted Stumm, with her life; they’d fought side by side countless times, against impossible odds. She would have been happy to work with him to save Jezipali’s mind… but for one thing.

Stumm still worked for Kelmorn. Kelmorn’s own insanity – which had never really been explained to Xanaphia – started this whole mess. Kelmorn was evil, regardless of which ‘persona’ was in control. So while Stumm was trustworthy… Kelmorn wasn’t, at all. And what Stumm knew, she had to assume Kelmorn knew.

This wouldn’t do. At all. Xanaphia waited, biding her time, staying out of Stumm’s sight – it wouldn’t do to let him know she was snooping around. He knew her too well, would know she was planning something. She saw Stumm deposit Jezipali in the run-down shack in the Drag. Saw him return later with supplies. Saw Jezipali’s escape into Ragefire Chasm, complete with Stumm’s ensuing rage. And, disappointingly, she saw Stumm hand a few coins, a few threats to an orc living near the entryway.

He’d paid off an informant. Probably the most prudent move he could make here; The magical energies holding a sentry totem together didn’t last nearly long enough, and the informant should at least be able to keep his mouth shut.

This wasn’t good for Xanaphia, though. This informant would definitely take note of her entering the Chasm. Even disguised, she couldn’t take the risk that he’d report back to Stumm. And any undead woman who looked like she was elven when she still drew breath would set off some very particular alarm bells inside the tauren’s head. But she had to get Jezi away from them, somewhere that Kelmorn wouldn’t find her.

She sat on a high perch in the cleft, watching the orc go about his business undetected. He seemed to live a fairly ordinary life, sharpening blades for one of the merchants of Orgrimmar. A simple, undemanding job, paying well enough for him to live. Stumm’s coin would have been a year’s wages to him. A boon from above, a blessing from someone he could never hope to emulate.

But he was in Xanaphia’s way. He should have understood the risks of the position he got himself into when he took Stumm’s money. He should have known you don’t get anything for free, not in this world. And, sadly, it fell to Xanaphia to educate him.

She couldn’t run the risk of him seeing her entering the cleft. She couldn’t run the risk of paying him off, only to find he’d double-crossed her and tattled to the more imposing tauren. She couldn’t run the risk of entering while he slept – by then, he likely would have gotten someone else to watch the cavern during his breaks.

It had to be done now.

Xanaphia stood up, mostly concealed by the rocky outcroppings of her perch above the entrance to the Chasm. She nocked a jagged-headed arrow to her Gorewood Bow, and sighted down its shaft. She drew the string back, as far as she could, feeling it press against the bony claws of her hand….

And she released.

The power of the magical bow pinned the hapless orc to one of the support struts of his humble dwelling, the feathers of the arrow filling his right eye socket. He’d died instantly. Not painlessly – death was never painless – but at least it was fast. Xanaphia dropped down from her rocky nook, already clad in red and black plate mail.

When looking for an insane fire mage, it was best to pack your Dark Iron.



~~~



STUMM:

Plunk.

So this is how you're going to spend your time, now?

Plunk.

Well, I'm.. kinda confused.

Plunk.

Explain.

Plunk.

One, there's nothing to do. Two, there's nobody to kill. Three, nobody's trying to kill me.
So your life has become... ordinary?
No, never ordinary. Just... boring. It's a waiting game, now.
And to think, we were always so busy.

Plunk.

Stumm sat on the cliffs of Durotar, reclining against an orange outcropping of rock. A pile of pebbles sat at his side, the Tauren lazily flicking them into the water below with faint plunks.

Well, let's review. You found her.
True.
You got her to relative safety.
True.
She hasn't killed you.
Yet.
Semantics. You haven't killed her.
And won't.
Why must you cling to this infernal notion of chivalry? If she becomes a risk, eliminate it.
I can't.
Why not?
Because she's crazy.
And?
Killing anything that poses a remote risk is what she would do.
... And?
I don't want to be crazy.
Look. You're sitting on the edge of a cliff, flicking rocks into the sea, talking to yourself. That's fairly crazy.
Not nearly as crazy as-
I wasn't aware craziness was so easy to measure.
Okay, you've made your point. It's still not going to change anything.
And aga-
Because as I've said before, anyone in this life who has ever cared for me has died for it. I'm not going to let it happen again.
But what if it's your "protection" that results in this startling mortality rate?
That's something I'm not willing to consider.
You're always so bloody difficult.

Stumm rose from his perch, the edge yawning mere inches to his front.

I'll just go check on her once. Then I'll find some other scheme to get wrapped up in. Give her some time.
You know that's a lie.
Shut the !&$% up.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Her dreamless sleep was abruptly cut short by the sound of clattering metal upon the stone floor of the cavern. She awoke instantly, her eyes darting about, trying to find what had made such a racket. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins and her heart raced, but her mind was still slightly deadened. Her body’s reactions were such a completely foreign thing to her now that she simply ignored them.

It was then that her eyes caught sight of the mass of red and black mail, pulling itself up off the grounds. She scurried backwards into a corner and watched with glaring eyes as the face of the form finally came into her view.

Xanaphia.

She was alive? Of course she was… her spirit would never give up that easy. She was damn near the most stubborn person that Jezi had ever met… save of course for Stumm. For a moment her heart soared in elation at seeing her friend alive, but it was quickly snuffed out by thoughts of anger at being awoken so soon.

Her mind was still so tired…

She spoke, her throat dry, her voice coming out in a harsh croak, “Xana… what…” she coughed. Perhaps sleeping in a cavern full of lava, fire and soot wasn’t the best idea after all. She cleared her throat forcefully before she tried to continue. “What are you doing here? How did you find me? Does –he- know where I am? You told him didn’t you? You did… I can see it in your eyes! Why? Why did you tell him! I just want to be alone and you ruined everything! Everything…”

Of course she had told Stumm. This had been all -their- fault anyway. They were the ones that had pushed her so far. They were the ones fighting amongst each other for something they could never have.

She glared angrily at the undead woman who stood before her, and the maddened troll climbed slowly to her feet. “You should’ve just let me be…”

Without so much as a word a fireball flew from Jezi’s hands, smashing with a force against the chest plate of the warrior. Xana staggered for a moment, but appeared no worse for wear after the magical fire had diminished. Luckily for Xana, the troll had no knowledge of the powers of Dark Iron or the magical armor it could make, and Jezi simply sent fireball after fireball into the plate, leaving only scorch marks behind without ever doing any real damage.

Her mind exhausted Jezi fell to the ground in a heap, breathing heavily. Her hands were covered in new blisters, charred nearly beyond recognition. She mumbled to herself, and though tears fell from her eyes her face gave no signs of sorrow. Mind and body were completely separate now, and her body wept for the torture it was being put through, while the mind simply went about its crazed rush of thoughts, oblivious to any needs or pains.



~~~



XANAPHIA:

Faint tendrils of steam rose off Xanaphia’s armour, which otherwise seemed to be totally undamaged by the troll’s fiery assault. She stood over the shuddering, weeping body of her friend, taking in her gaunt appearance, her torn robes, her poor, blistered hands.

Xanaphia removed her helmet, placing it on a nearby rock, and shook her green hair out of her eyes. The glow from her yellow gaze seemed to soften somewhat as she sat with a creak of armour near the mage. Then, uncaring of the danger that came from having an insane mage inches away, she lifted the poor troll into her arms, cradling her gently.

Jezipali had once been the happiest person Xana’d known, her cheery obliviousness to the world around her able to lift the normally dour undead out of her reverie. This fragile, scarred thing was such a huge contrast to what she’d once been. As she held her friend, weathering the storm of tears, she knew she’d done the right thing. Smoothing Jezipali’s spiked mane with one gauntleted hand, she picked up her discarded helm with the other, clipping it to her pack.

Then, still cradling her broken friend, filled with a desperate need to fix her, any way she could… Xanaphia activated her hearthstone. Ragefire Chasm was now empty, save for a small patch of melted stone.

She’d bring her friend back. She had to.



~~~



STUMM:

The fury had come, and gone. It seemed by this point that there was no more rage to scream out, no more wrath to make clear, no more anger to burn in the pit of one's heart like a roiling ball of fire.

Nothing could go right anymore.

Stumm lay back on the snow-covered ground, his feet kicked up on a protruding rock. Far away in the mists below the frozen cliff, waters roared and churned against the cliffs of Winterspring. The cliffs stood firm, tall against the wrath of the sea.

Stumm snickered to himself as the thought came to mind.

The grey Tauren's scarred chest rose and fell in the starlight, his gear laying beside him on the cliff's edge. There was a pool of lukewarm water around the blade of the Treant's Bane, the fiery enchantment on the ancient weapon melting the snow around it.

One blazing light, that damaged everything it touched.

Stumm sighed deeply, his breath frosting before his eyes. The cold gave him comfort. The cold bit, stung, whirled. It was a caress to a man who felt none, an encouraging touch from an invisible hand. The cold was an ally, something to keep the body on edge and the mind sharp. The whole sitting on a cliffside, though. That was just theatrics.

There the grey beast lay, arms folded behind him, feet resting on a bit of stone sticking out over an endless drop into darkness, and there the grey beast thought.

You're in one of your moods again.
One of my moods?
All self-reflective. It's really quite comforting. Lets me know that you're still alive in there.
You were in doubt?
Well, you know. Pretty much all that anyone sees of you is bitterness and anger.
That's pretty much all there is.
Oh, poor boy. Gonna cry?
These taunts might make more sense if they weren't coming from me.
Yeah, really. I'm confused too.

Snow began to fall, to drift on the wind as if a flickering sheet flapping to a nigh-undetectible blowing. Stumm shut his eyes as the first flakes landed upon his snout, entirely content with letting the snow bury him and the world forgetting he ever existed.

I notice you're not quite as pissed as you would normally be.
Oh, you know. I don't really see a point.
Do go on.
You saw the arrow in our little informant's head.
.. The same type of arrow a hundred hundred people of the Horde use every day?
Yes.
You're baffling me.
Those are the arrows that our friend Xanaphia uses.
Brilliant deduction. Why, of course only one specific person could have used that arrow that hundreds own!
We picked that watcher because he was quiet and amiable. The kind of man with no enemies. The kind of blissfully naive individual that Xanaphia would kill, were she forced to.
So this dead woman swooped in, killed your informant, and swiped your responsibility. I thought that's the kind of thing you'd get pissed at.
It would be. But.. there's no point anymore.
Do go on.
Gallivanting across the world in search of those two would do me no good. If my help is needed for this, Xana will get a hold of me.
And what will you do in the meantime?

Stumm rolled onto a side, the snow that wasn't sticking to his warm hair piling around him. Digging amongst his piled belongings, the Tauren retrieved a single crimson and gold cylinder. Pulling it apart, Stumm held in his hands a richly gilded red spyglass, with etched silver K, that began to acquire a light dusting of white.

I've got some visits to make up here.



~~~



XANAPHIA:

A glow of green filled the bottom of the zeppelin tower in the Grom’Gol outpost, disappearing momentarily afterwards. In its wake, Xanaphia sat on the floor, still holding her friend. Jezipali still seemed dead to the world, her shock at seeing Xana alive throwing her back into semi-catatonia. But it was something that she’d had to do. It was far too dangerous for the troll back in Orgrimmar. Xanaphia knew the perfect place… but Jezi wasn’t in any fit state to travel there now.

Summoning her skeletal steed, Xanaphia helped Jezipali get on its back. She was about as responsive as a mannequin, staring blankly off into the distance, tears still trickling down her cheeks. It hurt to look at her, to see the difference between this and the bright and bubbly source of life she used to be. She’d never be the same again, of course. Xana knew that. But she didn’t have to be… the way she was now. Xanaphia mounted up herself, holding Jezi steady between her plate mail covered arms. After checking to make sure the troll was safe in her perch, she rode off into the jungle.

A few of the camp’s denizens would have seen the odd pair. That was something that couldn’t be avoided; but there had been enough innocent blood spilled today. Stumm would find out that Xanaphia had taken his ward soon enough, but hopefully by then it would be far too late for him to do anything about it. Still, Jezi needed some time to adapt to the fact that her friend was still… moving, if not alive in the traditional sense. Which meant they needed a place nearby to hide that wasn’t easy to find.

Xanaphia grinned broadly, the wind whipping her hair back as she rode through the jungle. She had just the place.

It was time to pay a visit to an old mentor.

Galvan the Ancient.



~~~



XANAPHIA:

She reached the small camp deep in the jungles of Stranglethorn later that day, cresting a small rise to find her old mentor’s hidden camp. The ancient, grim dwarf Galvan didn’t look up at the undead high elven warrior as she reined in her skeletal steed. He continued to hammer and heat his beloved mithril even as she walked past him with the catatonic troll into his small house.

Emerging moments later, she walked up behind the ancient mastersmith, watching him work with an unfamiliar look of content on her face. He didn’t turn to her, still seemingly focusing his whole essence towards the shaping of the precious metal, but said;

“I ‘ope yeh didnae pu’ er in me bed. ‘s impossible tae ge’ th’ smell ‘o troll ou’ ‘o bedsheets.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind, Galvan. It’s not as if you ever sleep in it anymore.”

Walking around the anvil, Xanaphia sat down on an overturned mining cart, a relic of Galvan’s from who knew how long ago. She peered over at him, still bent over the forges in his permanent stoop, from under the wide brim of her black leather hat.

“Looks like truesilver gauntlets.”

Galvan snorted. “Aye, lass. I’ve made more ‘o these than you ‘ave years, an’ I’ll be makin’ em long after you’re dust. Yeh didnae come ‘ere fer idle chatter.”

“No, I didn’t.” Xanaphia’s face was unreadable in the shadows of her hat’s brim. Only the glowing yellow orbs she used as eyes could be seen in the darkness. “We’re just stopping off here for a moment.”

Shaping the lobstered backplate of the right gauntlet, the ancient dwarf replied. “An’ yer bein’ followed. Like always.”

Xanaphia nodded, silently, eyes still burning under the hat.

“Well, while thi’ shoul’ be me business, since yer usin’ me home, me tent, an’ likely me forge an’ me food, I’m nae gonnae ask yeh wha’ yer runnin’ from this time. I’m nae gonnae ask yeh where yeh’re goin’, neither. Ge’ yer pet troll in there some res’, girl.” Xanaphia could see a faint smile tugging at the edges of the dour dwarf’s beard. “I’d bet yeh’ve go’ a long way tae go, yet.”

Xanaphia remained hunched slightly forward on the overturned cart, and spoke quietly. “Yes. But she needs to want to go with me. This might be a while.”

Galvan finally looked away from his work, just for a moment. The concern in his slate-grey eyes was clear to the undead warrior, even if it wasn’t shown at all in his stony features. “Yeh take th’ time yeh need. Th’ Mithril Order takes care ‘o its own. Ain’t nobody gonnae find yeh here that shouldnae. No’ even th’ lady ‘erself.”

Xanaphia smiled, ever so faintly, revealing a white glow of sharp, even teeth in the shadows of her face. “You’ll get your shipment once this is done. Four hundred mithril bars, just like old times.”

Galvan nodded. “Aye. There’s a price fer everything. Yeh ne’er forget, lass. Tha’s wha’ I like abou’ yeh. Yeh ne’er forget.” With that, he turned back to his gauntlets.

Xanaphia simply sat, content to watch her old master at work, and not worrying about what was to come, for once. There’d be time enough once Jezipali woke up for that. Standing up, knees popping, she walked over to her saddlebags. She’d wager any amount of mithril that Galvan would appreciate some of the things she’d picked up in the world outside his hidden camp. She grinned to herself. The precepts of constructing Dark Rune armour were fairly simple, once you wrapped your head around the proper utilization of the Scholomance’s magical rune-constructs. But Galvan would enjoy the new knowledge.

There’s a price for everything… the old lie was repeated often by Galvan, while she was studying with him. Always, though, he would wink at her afterwards, and smile.
“There’s a price fer everythin’, Xana lass, bu’ friendship’s still priceless.”



~~~

[Archivist~Bel]

STUMM:

Dammit, man, how could you be so stupid?!

Another snowbank exploded in a shower of brilliant white as Ironhide plowed through it at blazing speed, the Tauren atop it clinging to the kodo's back as the beast tore down the Winterspring roadway.

You left that blasted dead woman alone with the crazy fire magi. Didn't you think?!
What are you yelling about now?
My own stupidity, arrogance, and sloth.
Oh. Carry on, then.
I thought Xana would be as safe as I was with the damn crazy woman-

A patrol of Winterfall Runners noticed an unnaturally rythmic, heavy stomping filling the area. Looking amongst one another confusedly, the foremost held a paw into the air and lowered an ear to the ground to investigate.

No sooner had the head touched cobblestone than one of Ironhide's armoured hooves had crushed it, sending a splash of crimson into the snow. The rest of the furbolgs were scattered by the roaring of the beast and the tossing of its head which swept them off the road.

-But I neglected to THINK about how vulnerable most people are to FIRE.
Dark Iron. She'll be fine.
If she leaves herself with the Dark Iron, she opens up vulnerabilities to conventional attack. If she returns to her regular suit of dress, she becomes vulnerable to arcane manifestations of flame.
Big words.
Point is, I didn't stop to think. I just remained confident someone else would handle the situation. Thanks to my IDIOCY, another person might already be dead.
How many is that, now? Let's begin the tally.

Paying no heed to the sarcastic, cynical and downright assholish voice in his head, Stumm ducked low to Ironhide's back as the beast charged into the furbolg tunnel connecting Winterspring, Felwood, and Moonglade.

He had no idea where Xanaphia or Jezipali were. But he was back on the hunt.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Jezi saw the jungles fly by around her, until once again she was surrounded by the delicious darkness. She curled up, content to be left alone once more. The place she was in smelled funny, though her mind paid no attention to it. Her body shifted subconsciously in discomfort, but soon enough she drifted off into an empty sleep.

Hours later? Days? She didn’t know, and couldn’t tell the difference. She woke, staring about herself with wide, empty eyes, suddenly realizing she had absolutely no idea where she was, but she could smell the jungle all around her. Her mind drifted, lost from reality and she sat up, looking around in confusion.

“Momma?” she said softly, the familiar smells bringing her back to an old place in her mind. She saw herself as a child now, perhaps only five years old. She watched herself from outside her body, the tiny troll girl walking out of the ramshackle hut that she had called home. Her mother was weeding her garden, the ever practical parent that she was. She was always busy with something, it was simply her way. “Momma?” she called again, causing the middle-aged troll woman to pause for a moment in her gardening.

“Whatcha need honey? Momma’s busy right now,” came the curt reply. Her hands worked furiously through the soil, not even looking up from her work to glance at her daughter.

“Nothing Momma,” she said aloud. “Always nothing...”

The scene faded from her mind, and she paid no attention to the tears falling from her eyes. Her body ached with sorrow, but her mind was still dead. She paused now in complete silence, realizing it was foolish to think that her mother was still alive, or still waiting for her somewhere.

She could hear voices outside. Xana and... someone else. A man. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but she knew it was about her. She knew it was nothing good. They were plotting something... always plotting...

She glared furiously about the shack, trying to think of something... of some way that she could get away or hide. Or... just anything.

But there was only one exit to this small, rundown building so she would just have to make her stand here then. Boxes and random crates lined the walls and she dragged them toward the center of the tent. One was too heavy for her frail body to drag and so she dumped out the contents of books into the middle of the room, kicking them out of her way as she pulled the box. She then went to the cot and stripped off the linens, turning it over with an unceremonious CRASH.

She had created a small horseshoe of crates and boxes, topped off by the cot that was now resting on its side. She d#@!&d the linens over herself and her small fort, waiting quietly for Xana or the man who was with her to come bursting in. She shifted her weight, accidentally sitting on one of the many books she had kicked. She glanced around her fort and gathered up as many books as she could see, piling them neatly next to her as she waited.

The makeshift door creaked open as Xana peeked out from behind it. “Jezi? Are you alright? I heard som-“

Xana ducked back behind the door as a book came flying at her face. A loud BANG was heard as it smacked into the door and then thumped to the floor.

Xanaphia muttered a curse to herself in Thalassian. Jezi clearly didn't want to talk, but she didn't have much choice. Tensing, she opened the door fully and stepped inside, waiting for another hail of objects, but prepared to take the blows.

Another book came shortly after she had stepped inside, smacking against her breast plate. The weight of the book hurt her more than the force that it was thrown with. Obviously Jezi was very weak, and in fact Xana was starting to wonder how the frail troll woman was even managing to pick up the books, let alone throw them.

“Jezi, honey, I ju-“ Xana threw her hands in front of her face to block another book. She put her arms back down... a second too soon and she caught a book directly in her face. She winced, but said nothing, continuing her steady plod forward. Book after book assaulted her as she neared the frantic troll, when suddenly they stopped coming all together.

Guess she finally ran out Xana thought to herself. She reached down to peel the sheet away from the top of the fort that Jezi had made for herself. Only to be greeted with another book to her face.

Jezi leapt to her feet, book still clutched in her hands as she smacked Xana again before dashing out the front door. A small Dwarf sat working metal out in front of the shack and without so much as a glance he said, “Now don’ ya be takin’ my book. I’ll be needin’ tha’.”

The troll shrieked at him and screamed something in Trollish, before throwing the book at the back of his head. It hit him with a thunk, but he simply nodded and said, “Aye, thank ya lass” and went about his work.

Xana tore out of the shack a moment later, just to see Jezi disappear into the jungle. She whistled sharply and her skeletal mount trotted over to her as she leapt into the saddle. Xanaphia raced after the crazed troll, spurring her mount into a gallop.

Running on foot through the jungles, tripping frequently, her body weak and her mind weaker, Jezi was quickly overtaken by her undead friend. One moment she was running, and the next she was sitting astride the skeletal horse, both her hands pinned behind her back.

She thrashed and screamed, trying to loose Xana’s grip from her wrists, but she was simply too weak. Her shoulders slumped and she gave in to her captor. For now at least. Until she could safely get away to be alone once more.

Why was everyone so intent on dragging her around? First Stumm and now Xana? But... where was Stumm? Wasn’t he an accomplice in all of this? Weren’t he and Xana in this together? To break her will and make her use her powers for their bidding? Perhaps... perhaps they had a plan. She hated Stumm, he knew that now. Perhaps they were using Xana... because they thought that she was still a friend. But no... she knew better than that. Xana was the enemy.

Everyone was the enemy.



~~~



STUMM:

Smoke rumbled from deep vents in the earth, lava hissing and spewing across scorched soil. The Burning Steppes was covered by a low haze of soot, a searing heat rising from the ground.

The faint sound of clanging steel rang out from a tall Orcish tower. The Blackrocks were doing battle.

The axes met in side swipes, clashing together and scr-aping against one another until they peaked over the two combatants. Stumm, the grey Tauren with sweat streaming down his face and fur, locked eyes with the faceless orange helmet of a Blackrock Slayer. The two growled incomprehensible curses at each other.

With a swish and another clang, both fighters broke the lock and spun, swinging up from below in another clash. Again the two snarled and spat. The Blackrock moved first, breaking the lock and dodging Stumm's upward stroke as he brought one down himself from a different angle.

Clang!

Stumm stood at one knee, the haft of the Treant's Bane held above him as it blocked the simpler axe of his foe. Both men heaved their shortness of breath, staring at each other in fury.

... Wait...
What?
Whatever made you think that either of those two would be up here, of all places?
I didn't, really. I just always wanted to do this.
I hate you.

Sighing in apathy, Stumm hoisted upwards with a shrug and pushed away the Blackrock's axe like a toy. Another strike began from the side, until a single hoof stomped down.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The cry rang out over the Burning Steppes, rebounding around Blackrock Mountain in booming knells. The axe fell to the floor as the Blackrock knelt to his destroyed foot, the flesh, bone and metal all smashed into a single thin paste. Tears streamed from behind the helmet as the Orc looked up at his opponent.

One three-fingered hand smacked onto the Orc's shoulder. The other locked around his belt.

With a short hopskip and a heave, the Orc's troubles were all over, although from the sound of his screaming you wouldn't have guessed it. One crunching thump later, there had been reached an ultimate solution.

How 'bout -I- decide where we go next?
You're the boss, boss.
I still hate you. Wasting my time...

The hunt went on.



~~~



XANAPHIA:

Xanaphia sighed as the latest stream of cursing in trollish emerged from the hut. She’d hoped that the jungles would soothe Jezipali somewhat, hoped that she would be able to talk some sense into her. Even just talking to her would be a miracle at this point, she now realized. Jezi was very far gone. She’d retreated somewhere inside herself, and any attempts made by Xana to draw her back out were met with a considerable amount of resistance.

She rubbed her broken nose ruefully, and glanced over to Galvan, who had moved on to crafting a pair of greaves. The old dwarf had been stoic – of course, he was Galvan, after all – but she could tell her visit was becoming a little too long for his liking. She didn’t have too many other choices left.

Sighing to herself, she stood up. She had clad herself again in her bulky Dark Iron Plate; all that remained was to once again don her heavy helm, and do what was needed.

“We’ll be off now, Galvan.”

The ancient smith grunted a monosyllabic response, as Xanaphia reached down to the door’s latch with one gauntleted hand. The inside of the shack was pleasingly dark, and surprisingly cool; mostly empty save for the pile of furniture that the mad troll had once again thrown together in the corner. Every so often, a babble of trollish emanated from the pile; the only evidence that Jezi was actually under all that junk.

Bracing herself for impact, whether it be a book, a fireball, or a scrawny fist, Xanaphia lifted the overturned table comprising the roof of the ‘fort’, taking a moment to wonder exactly how Jezipali had managed to get it up here. When she wasn’t immediately engulfed in flames, Xana cracked one of her eyes open. Jezipali was gently snoring at the bottom of the pile, covered in at least three tatty blankets, curled up into a ball. She looked so at peace with herself and the world. It was hard to believe that this poor, tattered girl was the one spewing out those foul curses just moments ago, or that she had almost completely immolated Xanaphia back in Ragefire Chasm.

Xana hated to wake her. She needed the rest. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be a little more lucid in the morning. It looked like the storm had passed, for now. Quietly replacing the table-roof, Xana turned and left the shack.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Sleep was her only escape. Too weak to physically fight her way, too tired to conjure her spells, she was essentially at the will of her captors. Thoughts screamed in her head constantly when she was awake, making it hard to understand who or what was talking to her. Everything was so convoluted and noisy and angry...

But sleep... sleep was empty. It was dark and peaceful, and so completely enveloping. No angry thoughts, no violence; just peace.

Jezi huddled under the tattered blankets, shivering despite the temperatures of the jungle. She twitched slightly as the roof of her fort thunked back down into place, but slept on undisturbed completely absorbed in the deafening silence of her mind. She would awaken soon... and the terror and screaming and pain would begin all over again. Her body ached from lack of food and water. Her skin was beginning to hang loosely from her bones, and her face was gaunt and pale.

For now she let the darkness soothe her... but when she awoke it would all begin again until her exhaustion won her over into unconsciousness once more.



~~~



STUMM:

The Blasted Lands were a place of fury.

Battlescars covered the landscape. What the place one was? There were few left who could tell you what the place looked like before the Dark Portal opened and nether energies began to warp the land into what it had become.

Abandoned arms and armoured littered the field where they lay. Twisted beasts stalked the landscape, mutated and confounded abberations of what once had walked there. Scorched chunks of the first Dark Portal structure dug in the land as if pebbles scattered on a beach, weathered testaments to the beginning of all of modern troubles.

The skies were purple, the land was orange, lightning flashed to strike the earth even when there were no clouds. The Blasted Lands were a bizarre land, an unnatural land, a place that should not be.

Right now, Stumm could empathize.

He sat, elbow on knee and head on palm, upon the gutted wreck of an ancient Horde catapult. Lightning shrieked down not three feet away. He didn't flinch.

.. So?
So what?
I thought you were on your big crusade. Your hunt, your chase.
I am... but.
But?
Why bother? It's clear I'm not trusted.
... Where's your rage? The fury? The burning desire to do what's right?
I think...

Stumm straightened out, cracking his spine with an audible snap. A tired, listless hand reached for the Bane which lay propped against the burnt-out wooden hulk.

... I think the rage is gone.
You're $!@%ting me.
I.. I'm not angry anymore. I just feel remorse. Regret. And I'm tired. I felt as if I've just been sleeping these past years, you know? Sleeping, but never really resting.
You've cracked. And I thought it would be in fire and cackling.
I'll find them. I'll find them... but I'll have to play it by ear.

Stumm rose from his seat, his hands glowing with pure white light. The light spread along his limbs and torso, until finally in one flash the Tauren was gone, and in his place was an ephemereal wolf.

"The hunt..." he sighed. "The hunt goes on."

And like a shot, the ghostly animal disappeared into the dark recesses of the Blasted Lands.



~~~

[Archivist~Bel]

JEZIPALI:

Her eyes fluttered open to the darkness of the shack, though for several moments she could not recall where exactly she was. She opened her mouth, lips cracked and dry, and tried to call out for someone to help her... but no sound came. She was simply to parched to do anything.

Where was she? Why was she alone? Where were her friends? Where was Xana? And Stumm? And Kelmorn? She sat up, her head throbbing as she did so, and she pressed her palms to her temples. Jezi let out an airy cough as she tried to breathe, and unconsciously conjured herself some water. It wasn't until she took the first sip that she realized how extraordinarily thirsty she was. She drank three full bottles before she forced herself to stop, knowing that if she drank too much it would be all the worse for her later.

It was then, when she had just put down that third bottle, that everything came rushing back to her, as if she had been hit by a speeding kodo. She sat, mouth open in shock as she watched the battle of Caer Darrow again... and her hopeless confusion set in once more. A moment later the voices came... the screaming, sorrowful voices... She clutched at the sides of her head, gripping onto her hair and letting out a small, piteous whimper.

"Jezi?" came a soft call. She knew the voice immediately to be Xana's, but was unsure whether she should answer back. Who's side was Xanaphia on? Why had she taken her so far from the safety of Ragefire Chasm? Questions whirled around, making the voices scream all the louder, though she was unable to hear anything that they were saying.

The door to the shack creaked open and Xanaphia stepped cautiously in. She squinted against the darkness, finally able to make out the silhouette of the frail troll woman that she was trying desperately to save. "Jezi honey?"

Silence.

Another whimper.

"Jezi... are you alright...?" the warrior took another step forward.

This time a soft response came, "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore..."

Xanaphia moved over and knelt down beside her friend, "Come with me, I'm going to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere that you can sort all of this out."

"But... but..." Jezi murmured, still clutching at her hair. "What about you? I don't want you there. I don't... I can't trust you... can't trust anyone..."

"I won't stay. I promise. But you need to figure this out on your own. You just need time." Xana reached out slowly and put a gauntleted hand on the troll's shoulder.

Jezi flinched away violently, twitching and muttering to herself.

"Will you follow me?" Xanaphia asked softly, rising to her feet once more. "I know you don't trust me, but just remember - I never tried to hurt you before and I have no reason to now. I want you to get better."

"...But we're stronger now... better better better... what is better? Aren't we fine the way we are... Yes... but... but alone. We could be alone. That's what we wanted... that's all we -ever- wanted..." The insane ramblings continued under her breath until she suddenly stopped and looked up at the undead woman. "You won't tell -him- will you? You can't tell him..."

"I won't" Xana promised. "I'm still not entirely sure of his side in all of this, but I won't tell him where you are. Or anyone else for that matter."

Silence.

Jezi's shadow nodded, and she pulled herself slowly to her feet. "Now... let's go now..."



~~~



They rode in silence through Duskwood, neither willing to break the tenuous peace that existed between them for this moment. The slight, gaunt troll sat behind the heavily armoured undead warrior, thin arms wrapped about her waist for security's sake. Xanaphia glanced down at Jezipali's clasped hands, and continued to worry. She'd successfully gotten the poor girl away from outside influences, and she seemed to be a little more lucid now, but she still wasn't entirely sure that their destination was the best place for Jezipali's recovery. It was still the best of a lot of bad choices, though.

Jezi wouldn't get better if there were people around. Her betrayal by her love had left deep scars... the one she'd trusted the most had turned out to be the worst person possible to trust. She needed to be alone, to recover, somewhere where nobody could find her and interfere. She needed time to heal.

The undead steed raced up the rocky slope into Deadwind Pass. A shrieking wind echoed through the canyon, causing both of the women to involuntarily shiver. Xana set her jaw, and raced onwards. Suddenly, the great tower of Kharazhan came into view between the peaks, looming over the abandoned town at the foot of the chasm like some gloomy Titan of old. Will-o-wisps and tortured spirits flickered through the ruined buildings, as Xanaphia reined in her mount on the cliffs above.

"From here on, we go on foot."

Jezipali nodded.

"The place I'm taking you to... it's safe. It's secure. But the path leading to it is dangerous." Xanaphia smiled slightly, grimly. "That's an advantage. Nobody comes out here, there's almost no chance someone will come across you accidentally."

"Let's... just go, can we?" Jezipali looked to the side, unwilling to make eye contact with Xana.

She still doesn't trust me. Xanaphia sighed.

Cold wind buffeted the two as they made their way down the sheer mountain path. Xanaphia led the way; the troll didn't trust her enough to let her walk behind, where an effortless nudge could send Jezipali plummeting down to the sharp rocks below. As they made their way along the sheer ledges, Xana described their destination. A forgotten crypt, with a sealed entrance. Only one way in or out. Impossible to access without knowing the secret. And so hidden and remote that it could very well be the best place in all of Azeroth for someone to go to think.

Finally, they reached the crypt, recessed into one of the huge peaks. The arcanite portcullis blocked their entrance, but Xana didn't seem fazed. She turned to her friend.

"Welcome to your sanctuary, Jezi. Welcome to the Deadwind Crypts."



~~~



STUMM:

Hooves rang against stone steps in a slow, rythmic thudding.

Haven't you checked here before?
I'll check again.
How remarkably devoted of you.
I know what to call her now. I know why I'm trying so hard to look for her.
And just what is that?
Little sister.
... Aww. How sentimental. Excuse me while I grab a tissue.
Shut your trap. It's true.
Except for the fact you're not in any way related.
Screw you. I'll think the way I want.

Rounding the corner of the Scourge ziggurat's stairwell, Stumm surveyed the room before him with smouldering eyes. It had been a long time since the clash on Caer Darrow. His intricately worked and ancient runed kilt brushed just above his scarred hooves, leading up to the tabard of the Frostwolf he wore across his broad torso. His gauntlets and spaulders seemed forged of a bizarre black metal shaped like stone that contained tiny rivulets of lava, always flowing but never going anywhere. A runed helm lay wrapped about his head, twin forks shaped like lightning bolts going down past his cheeks with a single spike sticking up and back in the same style. The Shaman's eyes burned white with elemental power, an external indicator of how far he had come. What skin of his that was exposed was riddled with more scars seemingly than ever, and the Tauren pulled a whirring gadget off his back as the Undead noticed his presence.

I don't think she's here. She'd be dead.
I have to make sure.
Again?
I haven't found her yet. I've searched the known world for my little sister. I'm not going to stop until I find her.
Don't you wish our bigger brothers cared for us this much?
Can't say I do. They were @$%!@%&s.

The unknown machine swung into a fighting position as Stumm surveyed what forces he had disturbed. A teeming mass of walking corpses, clad in rags to platemail to elven leather. Weapons were profusion, from massive claymores to simple torn Undead claws.

The machine Stumm held was an odd one. It was about as half as tall as he was, a cyndrilical length at the bottom that hummed and glowed fitting into a longer piece that led to a rotating gear and housing. A few buttons adorned the outside of the housing, and the mostly-exposed gear, edges sharp, rotated slowly as Stumm lowered it into fighting position. A key matched the rotation of the gear on one side; grasping hold of the key firmly, Stumm pushed it into the housing with a click. Ratcheting the key forward with a series of noticeable clacks, the gear started spinning faster and faster until it was a whizzing blur. Along the side of the bottom cylinder, the words "Finkle's Lava Dredger Model # TK421" could be seen, although "Finkle's" was scratched out and the name "Stumm" was crudely etched above it.

Stumm grinned, his eyes still blazing.

The undead horde charged forward, the first skeletal soldier in line swinging his claymore down in a fierce overhead stroke. Ducking and tilting ever so slightly, letting the weapon pass over his shoulders harmlessly, Stumm brought the Dredger into the abdomen of the creature, the undead flesh and skin fairly exploding upon coming into contact with the spinning gear. The skeleton fell forward in two mangled halves as Stumm started beating back the undead mob with massive tearing strokes, bone and gristle and viscera flying in the air as inhuman undead wails were drowned out by the Tauren's bellowing laughter.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Crypts? The Cypts? What? This didn’t make any sense... Crypts were places that people went to die. She didn’t want to die. She wasn’t dead, was she? Perhaps Xanaphia had brought her all this way just to kill her. To end it all. End the screaming. End the pain. Mercy killing. The collective screaming of voices in her mind seemed to cry out with joy at the thought, but some part of her would not accept it. Could not. Lay down and die? Never...

“Never, never, never, never...” she mumbled aloud.

Xana glanced at her with an eyebrow raised, “Never what Jezi?”

The troll twitched slightly, and began to wring her burned hands together. “Why here? Why... why did you bring us here? Crypts are for death. We’re not dead. Not yet. We don’t want you to kill us. Don’t want to die... not yet... not yet not yet not yet...”

Wincing at the implication, Xana had to restrain herself from physically comforting the fragile mage. “You’re here to get better. Not to die.” She gestured for Jezi to follow her. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

They went from chamber to chamber, Jezi’s eyes going wide in wonder and awe at the sights laid out before her. She could feel the magic pulse of this place, and it began to beat in time with her heart. Her breath quickened and she looked about in excitement marking things in her mind that she would come back and investigate later.

“This place... what is this place?” she murmured.

A faint smile came to Xana’s lips as she answered, “Nobody really knows what the crypts are for. -Very- few people even know that they exist, and those that do tend to be rather careful about coming here. Kharazan's curse has hung over Deadwind and Duskwood for a long time, now.” She turned to Jezi and grinned, “I suppose it'll be one of the things you can research, while you're here."

Nodding her head in agreement, “Yes... yes yes yes... Need supplies first. Equipment. Things. Need things.” She snapped her fingers. “Dire Maul. The Elves there. They have knowledge. Books. Things I can borrow. Things I can use.” Jezi’s mind was a natural analytical machine, able to careful plan and sort out details in mere seconds what could take others hours. This processing was so naturally to her that even the screaming in her mind could not stop it.

“Well,” Xanaphia said after a few moments, “I suppose I’ll leave you now. You’ll be safe here.” She smiled at Jezi again before activating her hearthstone. She could already see an improvement to the troll. Her logical thinking was taking back over. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Recovery would take a long time, she knew that... but Xanaphia had nothing but patience.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

The Elves in the secluded library of Dire Maul said glanced suspiciously at the troll, her face hidden by a large, purple cowl. She asked hurriedly for book and equipment for experiments. The books they were glad to hand over... simply to be rid of her faster, but they were unsure what kind of equipment she could want... and even if they knew, they doubted that they had it. This was a library after all, they had books, not alchemical supplies.

She began rambling to herself about the apothecaries of Undercity, and they gently urged her to check there... simply to leave them in peace. Her hands began to glow with arcane power, and within seconds she was gone, though her insane ramblings stayed with them for days afterwards.

The apothecaries directed her to the equipment with idle threats if she brought back anything broken, but she paid no attention. She gathered up her things and left as quickly as she had come, fading back into the shadowy crevices of Deadwind Pass, hiding deep with in the mysterious crypts.

She set up a small laboratory in one of the upper chambers. Jezipali sat cross-legged on the floor, putting everything exactly where she wanted it. As she worked, she subconsciously conjured food and water for herself, eating and drinking idly as her mind whirred continually on.

After everything was set, she went about gathering samples from the other chambers. Bits of cloth, chunks of stone, vials of water, pieces of bone... anything that she could find... anything that might give her some clue to this place... and to the powers that pulsed with in it.

The voices were quiet now... the screaming was dulled down to a soft, distant noise. She began to hum to herself as she worked. A tuneless song that changed with her fancies, and helped drown out the voices even more. She set her samples down carefully before she curled up to sleep... it was the first time she had actively gone to bed since the battle at Caer Darrow... all of the other times had been brought on by her sheer exhaustion... but now she CHOSE to sleep.

And she slept in the deafening silence that hung over the crypts, her mind and body both at rest for the first time since her flight from Caer Darrow.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

She continued like this, living in a daze, eating when she had to, drinking when she felt the need, but mainly she concentrated on her experiments. Days went by, fading into weeks, fading into months. She compiled all of the data in her mind. She felt no need to write it down, she had nothing else to remember right now. Her research consumed her, the power of the place enthralled her, and she began to subtly tap into the arcane magic that pulsed the crypts into a pseudo-life.

The blisters on her hands were still noticeable, but were fading now that she had no reason to fight. Everything was getting better. Her mind was functioning without the constant screech of voices, and her body was beginning to fill back out to a normal, healthy size. Her skin was very pale, however, from spending so many weeks away from the sun, but aside from that Jezipali seemed perfectly healthy.

Things probably would have progressed this way until Jezi pulled herself slowly out of her own madness, save for one thing: A stubborn Troll hunter, who had to prove everyone wrong.



~~~

[Archivist~Bel]

REIZA:

Reiza, formerly of the Venomwood tribe of Stranglethorn Vale, had managed to form one friendship in all of her time living amongst the Horde, and perhaps not so oddly, she befriended another outsider, a loner, like herself; the stubborn Tauren shaman, Stumm. They conversed together, something that neither of them did with anyone else, they shared their stories, they shared their pain, and amidst Stumm’s stories and regrets he always drifted back to one thing – his responsibility to find the lost troll mage Jezipali.

This evening, they sat together, watching the sun set over the hills of the southern Barrens, and yet again the conversation drifted back to Jezi. Reiza sighed, knowing that he’d continue on this line of thought for a long time, and she also knew that he was no closer to finding the mage than he had been months ago. He had gone hap hazardously across the world, searching randomly, not thinking.

“Look heah,” she said, “I’ma go find dis trollie gihl fah joo. I’m a bettah trackah den joo ah anyway.” She stood up, wiping the dust from her clothes and looked down at the shaman in ghost-wolf form.

“You won’t find her,” came the soft reply. “If I couldn’t find her... there’s no way that you could. I know her better than you... and I couldn’t find her anywhere...”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, unconsciously. She hated people telling her what she could, and couldn’t do. “I proobe joo wrong. Joo see. I’m leabin’ now ta staht lookin’ fah heh. I’ll write joo a lettah when I find anyting.”

With that, her hearthstone flashed and she was back high atop the rises of Thunder Bluff. She thought over the things she knew about Jezi, which wasn’t very much, and thought about who she could ask for more information about the renegade mage. Might as well start with the other mages, she thought.

She went to every major city, asking the trainers there if they had seen the woman she was looking for. Most of them knew Jezi, and oddly enough, many of them seemed afraid when she mentioned the name. She managed to gather names, people that Jezi knew, that she was seen with. Stumm, Kelmorn, and Xanaphia were the three most common, and the last name stood out clearly in her mind.

She had met the undead warrior outside of Dire Maul, though she really hadn’t formed any thoughts about the woman yet. But now that she knew that Xanaphia had a connection to Jezi? Why wasn’t this undead woman worrying as much as Stumm? Reiza’s naturally suspicious mind began to wonder why, exactly, Xana was so at ease. The hunter was positive that Xana knew something, but she also knew better than to ask. Xanaphia would never trust her with that kind of information.

So she went about asking questions of Xanaphia. She was known, fairly widely, and so were her travels. Many people had no qualms about telling her that they thought Xana was insane. She was told several times over about the undead woman’s quest to restore Caer Darrow... which had failed miserably. Reiza knew the story well, and knew that it had been at that point that Jezipali had gone into hiding.

The hardest part about this search, was that the trail was long since cold. Jezipali hadn’t been seen for months, and her escape had been so secretive that even on a fresh scent it would have been difficult to pick up. So, Reiza carried on, doing the only thing she could. She gathered information about Xanaphia and Jezipali, little of which coincided. Xanaphia was known to be a part of the Tabula Rasa, Jezipali of the Broken Fist (which she also found out was led by the ever-elusive Kelmorn). Those of the Tabula Rasa spoke fondly of Xanaphia. She was a good woman, with a strong head and a stronger heart. Some spoke with reserve, other spoke freely, but she was sure that soon one of them would tell Xanaphia that someone had been asking around about her. It didn’t matter, though, by the time the warrior heard, Reiza would be long gone.

She managed to find out that Xanaphia had disappeared for a time, right around when Jezipali had vanished as well. No one knew where Xana had gone... but Reiza was damn sure that where ever it was, she had gone there with Jezi.

Frustrated and hungry, Reiza finally sat down to eat as she went back over the places that Stumm had told her he had searched, and it seemed that there were scant few places left to check. Stranglethorn Vale stood out at the top of her list, mainly because of the fact that she knew Jezi came from the jungles, though she was unsure why Xana would go there.

Full from her meal, slightly tired and needing rest, she continued on. She had to, if only to prove Stumm wrong. She had to fill in the answer to one important question before she allowed herself to rest for the night.

Why would Xanaphia cart the crazed mage off to Stranglethorn?

Her answers so far – to bring Jezi some place familiar that would feel safe, to get her away from society, or as a stop over to some place else.

It wasn’t until she found out Xanaphia’s profession that she learned her first clue. The warrior, it seemed, was a very able blacksmith. Reiza traveled to every smithing trainer she could find in the cities and small towns, and finally found the reason that Xanaphia would travel to Stranglethorn.

The reclusive blacksmith, Galvan. So-called Galvan the Ancient. Very few smiths even seemed to know of this elusive man, but she found out from a tired old orc in the back of Orgrimmar, that he always spoke highly of Xanaphia... which the orc seemed slightly bitter about. Reiza didn’t care for the politics of it all. She had her destination, that was the important thing. She packed up her magenta raptor, Julie, with supplies, then went to rest. Tomorrow would be a long day... her first day back in the jungles since she had fled Booty Bay so many years ago, searching for a blacksmith that would be nearly impossible to find, only to continue on and search for a powerful Troll mage on the brink of sanity...

...And all of it was just to prove Stumm wrong...



~~~



REIZA:

As the zeppelin pulled slowly up to the tower at Grom’gol, Reiza hauled herself up from the floor. The rides had always made her nauseous, but she found if she sat down, somewhere near the front, it helped calm her... at least to the point of keeping her breakfast in her stomach.

At the bottom of the tower she paused long enough to whistle for Revenge, her ember worg, and Julie. She mounted quickly and trotted over to the blacksmith, her silver and gold trimmed armor shining in the morning sun. Reiza nodded a hello to the orcs, and pulled Julie to a hault.

“I’m lookin’ fah Galban de Ancient. Any ob joo know wheah I might be findin’ him?” she gauged their expressions to her question, and when they both shook their heads, she knew immediately that at least one of them was lying. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at the Orc. “Joo. Come wit me. I needa be talkin’ wit joo.”

He glanced over at his companion, who simply shrugged and went back to work. The Orc followed after Reiza as she trotted out of the camp, just out of ear shot, and sight of the Grom’gol guards. She jumped off her raptor, and made a subtle sign to Revenge, who acted quickly at her signal.

She walked over to the Orc, folding her arms across her chest, “Whatcha name?”

The Orc, glancing around nervously, answered in a strong, deep voice, in spite of his reservations, “Krakk.”

“Now den... Krakk...” she turned her back on him, pacing slightly up the road before turning back to him. “I know dat joo be lyin’ ta me when joo said dat joo don’ know wheah Galban is.”

The same flicker of recognition passed through his eyes, which he quickly tried to mask in shock and disbelief. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Troll. I don’t know of any Galban.”

“No, no, no,” she said with huff, “Gal-ban- wit a –bee-.” She cursed her speech impediment under her breath and decided to try another tactic. “Do you speak Trollish? You live in the jungle, you must have picked up a bit at least.”

After a moment, he nodded, “I speak a little.”

“I need to find Galvan the Ancient. And I’m going to tell you now that it’s a matter of life and death... at the moment YOUR life or death, but more importantly, the life of the woman I’m looking for. If you’re worried about Galvan blaming you when I find him, don’t. I’m going to find him regardless, but I’d rather not waste anymore time than I already have. Do you understand?” She spoke slowly, to make sure that he picked up everything she said and waited for his nod.

He responded to her in Orcish, “Galvan doesn’t like me much as it is... just keep my name out of things...” She nodded to him, and he continued, lowering his voice slightly, “His camp is to the North... in the deepest jungles.”

Reiza nodded, as if that were the only directions she needed. “Dat gibs me a place ta staht.” She motioned to Revenge to come to her, and he trotted obediently to her side.

“Uhh... I really wasn’t much help. I could draw you a map or something if that would help?” he offered quickly, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. She was leaving, she wouldn’t be a threat to him for much longer.

“Dunno how ta read de maps. I know dese jungles. I be able ta find him.” With a final nod, she spurred Julie into a quick, bouncing run and took of through the jungles, heading vaguely North. Revenge kept up easily, being well trained and in excellent physical shape.

After riding for five hours, she paused to rest, giving Julie and Revenge some water, and eating a small meal herself. It was in this moment of respite that she heard the telltale CLANG of a blacksmith’s hammer not far from where she sat. She perked up when she heard it, and grinned. No point in rushing off in the middle of lunch, she thought, if the old man is going to run away, it’ll take him awhile to haul that anvil with him.



~~~



REIZA:

Reiza held Julie’s reins in her hand and walked slowly toward the rhythmic CLANGS that rang out through the otherwise quiet jungle. Moments later, her eyes fell upon an aged Dwarf, who continued on with his smithing. A slight shift in his posture. He knew that she was there. A small smirk came to her face and she continued forward, leaving Julie and Revenge at the edge of the camp.

She walked over to the Dwarf and sat down close by, waiting for him to finish his task at hand. He paused for a moment, speaking broken Trollish, with a heavy accent, “Dun. Flakes.” He lifted up a small pile of black metal from the ground at his feet, and she nodded to him, moving to a safer spot.

He continued on, hammering ceaselessly on the helm that he was crafting. She watched with interest, his skill was obvious, though she knew nothing of his profession, and there were few chances that one could find to watch a master such as Galvan.

Finally finished, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow, he turned to the troll with a questioning look on his face. She spoke to him in Orcish, as she wasn’t sure how well he would understand her in Trollish.

“I’m lookin’ fah a trollie lady. Prolly a lil’ crazy in de head. She’s a friend ob one ob joor students, Xanaphia,” she paused, watching his reaction, but he gave none, or so slight of one that she couldn’t catch it.

“Aye... She brought that ‘un here near on... wha’? Three month ago?” he replied, and caught her nod. “A-yep. Went north a’ here. Dunno where to. T’weren’t my place ta ask.”

North of here? Surely Xana wouldn’t lead the troll out into more of the jungle... No, she probably left this place all together then. But what was north of here? Duskwood, the human territory... Swamp of Sorrows wasn’t far... but...

Deadwind Pass. She had heard Stumm mention it as one of the places he hadn’t checked as of yet. Looking up at Galvan, who was gathering materials to start work on another piece of armor, she asked, “Wut can joo tell me about Deadwin’ Pass?”



~~~



REIZA:

The sun was setting over the trees as Reiza made her way into Duskwood. She preferred to steer clear of human lands when at all possible, but right now it was unavoidable. She stayed off of the roads, darting through the trees astride her magenta raptor, any passersby simply saw a flash of pink through the trees, before she disappeared into the darkness.

She skirted carefully around the town of Darkshire without rousing any undue suspicions and cut carefully toward the path that would lead her toward Deadwind.

Galvan didn’t have much information for her, but what he did have to say peaked her interest even more. A place where one of the most powerful mages once lived... Yes, a place like that would definitely attract someone like Jezipali, but why would Xana bring her there? Wasn’t it dangerous?

Reiza shook her head. She couldn’t presume to understand the friendship between the two women. She didn’t understand much about people in general, let alone their interactions. She studied them, like she studied animals. Learned their signals and their hidden meanings... but nothing deeper than that. Except maybe with Stumm... but that was a different story all together.

She stood at the edge of a cliff, looking at the river below her and the sharp crags that lined either side. She wasn’t sure if Revenge could make it, and she was damn sure that Julie couldn’t. She took some supplies from the raptor, and slapped her flank, causing her to run off toward the Swamp of Sorrows. She would be safe at Stonard until Reiza had found Jezipali.

“Come on Rebenge... we’be got a long come ahead ob us,” she said as she began to climb carefully down the mountain. The dog leapt bravely forward, and ended up reaching the ground long before his master, but Reiza made it safely as well. She started walking down the river, when she saw the entrance to the crypts. If the troll were here, that’s where she would be. Galvan had given her that much of a hint. The crypts were still a place of phenomenal power... the perfect place for a mage like Jezi.

Revenge, as if feeling uneasy, pressed close to his master’s leg, a low growl in his throat as they walked into the dark, seemingly empty building. Revenge’s nails made a soft clicking noise on the stone floor, but Reiza walked as silently as a shadow. She was a predator by name, the wolf, and she was closing in on her prey.

[Archivist~Addie]

Addition to: Minds of Madness


REIZA:

Reiza was very familiar with death. She had watched members of her tribe die everyday that she lived in the jungles. But even that was not enough to prepare her for the macabre horrors that were held in the Deadwind Crypts. A chill ran up her spine, but she steeled herself, refusing even to shiver, lest she make more noise than necessary.

She walked silently down the different corridors, pausing every few seconds to listen. She could hear movement, she just couldn’t figure out where...

At first she had just thought the noise was rats... but she hadn’t seen anything alive in here. No roaches, no rats, no snakes... just death. Her mind flashed back to the depths of the water that she had recently swam though, and she felt her stomach heave. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, calming her nerves and listening again for the small noises that echoed through the crypts.

She reoriented on the noise and began to walk down another corridor. She could see a flickering up ahead... some kind of fire. The first sign of life that she had seen since she entered this place.

Jezipali, her mind whispered.

She motioned for Revenge to stay, then crept forward in silence to peer around the corner and into the depths of the room. Sitting in front of several vials, with a small fire burning on the floor, was Jezipali. She was dressed in a purple robe, near black from scorches and the filth of the tombs. Her face was almost entirely covered by a purple cowl, and she stared intently at the vial in her hand.

Better do this fast, she thought, and motioned for Revenge to come to her. In a silent command she told him to pin their target... but not to attack, and before she could even level her crossbow, the worg was off into the room, a fierce growl coming from his throat as he leapt at the mage.

Jezi turned in time to see the slavering, tooth filled mouth, as the huge paws of the worg landed and held her firmly on the ground. Almost immediately her hands began to glow, and burn. The smell of cooking flesh quickly filled the room as she chanted the spell for her fireball.

“If you harm one hair on that dog, I’ll put an arrow through your heart before you can even breath” Reiza said in Trollish. Her crossbow was pointed directly at Jezi’s head, arrow in place and finger on the trigger.

Jezi stopped speaking, though her hands still burned brightly, and were beginning to singe the sides of her dress once more. Revenge whimpered and looked to his master, the heat making more than a little uncomfortable.

“Stop the fire,” Reiza said, as she moved further across the room. “If you don’t, I’m going to smash every single one of these vials. This is what you’ve been working on isn’t it? Spending all your time down here, studying these things?” She walked in a large semi-circle, keeping her crossbow trained on Jezipali, as she approached the equipment scattered about the room. She nudged one of the vials with her toe, nearly tipping it over, watching Jezi’s face contort in pain.

But the fire on her hands finally died.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other then. I’m still not sure I can trust you, but I’m going to call my dog off now. Be assured that if you try anything... and I do mean anything he will rip your throat out for dinner. Are we clear?” Reiza stood in the deafening silence, waiting for the mage to answer her.

Finally the strained response came, “Who are you? I don’t know you. Why are you here? What do you want from me? Leave me. Just leave me in peace. I need... work... need to get back to work... interrupting... just leave.”

“My name is Reiza, though I suppose if you’d like, you can call me The Wolf,” she paced back toward the entrance of the room, and watched Jezi’s face relax as her precious equipment was left alone. “The reasons that I’m here are slightly more complicated than that, I’m afraid.” She leaned against the wall, lowering her crossbow slightly. “And honestly, I don’t think I should tell you, because I’m not sure how you would react. Suffice it to say that I’m here for someone who needs to see you, and that I’m going to bring you to them.”

Jezi shook her head violently, and Revenge growled at her sudden movement. Reiza smirked, “Careful now, you might upset Revenge. Calm, careful movements, Jezi.”

The mage immediately stopped moving and stared at Reiza with deadened eyes, her voice was flat and monotone, matching her expressionless face, “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay. I have work. I need to finish. Must learn. Can’t you feel it? The power... amazing... Must stay...”

“Want and need are two different things. I know someone who needs to see you. You want to stay. Besides, I didn’t spend all this time tracking you down, just to leave you in this dank pit. The choice, however, is up to you,” Reiza replied. “You can either come with me or I can bring you with me by force. Choose. Now.”

Jezipali shrieked in frustration, causing Revenge to bark and snap at her viciously. The mage glared at the dog, but quieted, keeping perfectly still.

Reiza sighed and walked over to them, slipping her crossbow away and pulled out several strands of rope. “Forcefully it is. Just remember, I didn’t want to do this.” She waved Revenge off of Jezi, and stood the mage to her feet. Reiza quickly tied the woman’s hands together, but left her feet free. She then pulled out a small silk handkerchief with a single red embroidered R in one corner. “I’m really sorry about this, but I’m going to have to gag you. I don’t quite trust you not to try and burn through these ropes.”

All the while Jezi stood, staring at her equipment that lined the floor. The gag was pushed forcefully into her mouth and she ground her teeth against it in frustration. A burning hatred went through her as she felt the hunter pat her gently on the shoulder.

“I’m going to let you walk out of here, but if you try anything... and I do mean anything, I won’t hesitate to knock you into unconsciousness.” Reiza gave Jezi a gentle nudge in the back, pushing her toward the door of the room. “Let’s move then. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”



~~~



REIZA:

For the most part, Jezi seemed resigned to her fate. Reiza had gone through her things quickly, stealing away all the runes or magical items she could find. She wasn’t entirely sure what they did... but she knew that magical people often needed runes for specific spells, and she wasn’t going to allow Jezi to use any of those if she could help it.

They arrived at Stonard as night was falling over the swamp. Julie, the dutiful raptor that she was, trotted swiftly up to Reiza, prawrrling happily. Giving her mount a firm pat on the neck, she began to dig through her bags until she found three things that she rarely used: a quill, parchment, and a bottle of ink.

Her writing was scrawled and barely legible, but her note read as follows:



Stumm

I fownd Jezzy. Meet in wyntirspring. 2 days.

~Reiza



She stuffed the letter unceremoniously into an envelope and shoved it into the mailbox. She wasn’t sure that it would take them two days to get there... they would probably arrive much sooner than that, but she needed to allow some time... in case Jezi decided to stop acting quite so docile...

Reiza managed to bargain with the flight master in Stonard to let her ride tandem with Jezi. After all, the two Trolls together probably didn’t even weigh HALF of a full grown Tauren. The hunter gripped the thick fur of the wyvern with one hand, and kept the other tightly wrapped around Jezi. The last thing she needed was for the mage to fall off in the middle of the damn flight. Jezi had stayed alive this long... and if she died now through some fault that could be placed on Reiza...

The hunter cringed. She had to keep Jezi safe. At all costs.



~~~



STUMM:

The darkness' hold over Thunder Bluff was uncontested.

It was the depths of the bottom of the morning, a time usually reserved for illicit deeds, sleep, barking dogs, and quiet precipitation. The Tauren city slept, not a single guard patrolling the streets, the place almost... dead.

Except, of course, for one stubborn Shaman.

Stumm, the first part of his name equivalent to that of the character trait that best described him,stood tirelessly at the mailbox sifting through mail. Not that there was a lot to sift through. He was just going slowly.

Stifling a yawn by clenching his own mouth shut, Stumm picked the last letter for him out of the receptacle, frowning slightly at the care taken to it's enwrapping. Breaking the seal with a thick finger, a single pass of his eyes was all it took.

Said eyes widened to about twice their usual size.

... How the...?
Well, it IS what she does.
I KNOW, but still...!
Does it really matter?
... You're right. To Winterspring it is. But first...

Flipping the note over, Stumm swept his hand across the back of the parchment, a simple message of his own burned into the paper.

----

Xana:

Check the other side. Be there.

----

Stuffing the letter back in the box, the scorched-in recipient's name faintly smouldering, the Tauren bolted away from the mailbox and was in an instant pounding towards the great Lifts on four ghostly legs.

... What are you planning?
Something that might help.
You're crazy.
Whatever. You don't like food, right? We may not see any for awhile.



~~~



XANAPHIA:

Yawning, Xanaphia shambled over to the mailbox outside the Kargath Outpost, missing the comfort of her pile of furs at the back of the ramshackle orcish building. Placing one hand on the splintery wood of the box, she squinted up at the glaring sunshine.

Must be midafternoon already. Fel, I'm tired of this.

She pulled an assortment of packages out of the box, sifting through them until she found the ones addressed to her and tossing the rest back in, haphazardly. Slitting the envelope open with one talon, she stretched as she tried to get her eyes to focus on the crude scrawl of orcish on the piece of paper within.

Upon doing so, she immediately wished she hadn't gotten up today.

A moment later, she was astride a wyvern, winging her way south to Grom'gol, a string of Thelassian curse words trailing along behind her. Stumm had, once again, messed everything up. Who the fel was this troll, anyway? She had a vague memory of a scarred hunter tagging along with the shaman, at one point, but the memory was blurred. So many were, these days.

It didn't matter much, though. If this "Reiza" had hurt Jezipali, she was going to die. One way or another.



~~~



REIZA:

They did indeed arrive in Winterspring early. Reiza had stopped briefly in the town of Everlook to purchase some clothes for Jezi that would be warmer and more comfortable in this climate. She had untied the mage’s hands and removed the gag, as it seemed that Jezi had given up. She hadn’t fought with Reiza this entire way... just sat, with dead eyes, staring out at the world, though never quite seeing it.

The huntress had left a note with the wind master, along with a brief description of the man that he was supposed to give it to. Then she had walked off into the snow with the captive mage, and her faithful worg. She made a small camp beneath a copse of trees, building a fire, and sitting completely still. Jezi sat next to her, knees clutched to her chest, her scarred hands gripping tightly to the white, fur-lined robes that she was clad in.

He should be arriving soon, Reiza thought, digging her heels down into the snow.

Just then a snowdrift nearby exploded, creating a shower of snow that disappeared onto the rest of the stark landscape. When the snow finally fell, there sat the familiar face of the shaman she had been waiting for, astride his gigantic kodo. Her brow furrowed for a moment as she noticed something else in tow.

A smaller kodo... completely white, clad in shining silver armor. She raised an eyebrow at Stumm, but said nothing. Reiza climbed to her feet, pulling Jezipali up with her.

For the first time since they had left the crypts, life sprang back into Jezi’s eyes. A bitter, seething hatred was almost palpable in the air. Reiza spoke softly to the mage in Trollish, “This is who needs you Jezi. He’s the reason that I had to come for you.”

Jezi glared at Stumm, her hands flashing with fire, then dying once more. “No,” she replied softly in Orcish. “He doesn’t need. He hurts. Only hurts. Wants... power. Can’t.... can’t have it.”

Reiza shrugged at the Tauren. She had found the mage, everything that happened after this point was out of her hands. She spoke up, louder this time, and in Orcish, “I found heh, jes’ lahke I said. Nah sure wut joo wanna do wit heh now d’oh. She don’ seem ta lahke joo bery much.”

She whistled to Revenge, who trotted to her side faithfully. “I be leavin’ now den. Joo take it from heah.” With that, she walked off into the lightly falling snow. She hated the cold, and she’d been here too long already. She needed to leave and go somewhere warm.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

Jezi fumbled through her pockets, only to remember that these were not her normal clothes... and that the stupid hunter woman had taken her teleportation runes anyway. She was trapped... she was in the wide open, snow fields of Winterspring... but she was trapped, just like before. Her hands flared with fire again, causing new blisters to form on her already-scarred hands.

She stared at the fire that consumed her fists, suddenly remembering a small device that she always carried with her. The flame died once more, and she stared at the small contraption on her wrist. It was scorched, but appeared no worse off than before... Gnomish engineering at it’s finest.

Jezipali looked up, leveling her gaze with Stumm’s.

He smiled at her. Smiled. “Jezi...” he said softly, moving Ironhide forward at a slow walk.

She noticed the spare kodo that he was carting around, and assumed immediately that it was for her. A bribe, she thought, to get me to use my powers for him... but I won’t... no no no...

She didn’t say a word as she activated the transporter on her wrist. She simply touched a button and listened to the faint whirring noise as the long-unused gears began to spin once more. A white column of light shot up around her.

And then all was black.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

She awoke to the glaring sun of the Tanaris desert, being prodded awake by the goblin who ran the teleportation machine.

“Hey!” he called, prodding her again. “You okay?”

Jezi crawled to her knees, and attempted to stand, but her head was pounding with a vicious force, so she simply sat down on the ground, with a groan.

“Heh... sorry about that,” the goblin said. “We’ve been having all sorts of issues with this thing lately. Shorting out like crazy. Sending off random sparks. Kind of annoying... but that’s what you get when you work with Gnomes, huh?” He let out a mad, cackling laugh, then turned back to the dials and gears.

“Owww...” she moaned softly. “My head hurts...”

“Yeah... that’ll happen,” the goblin said, not turning away from his work. “You come out better off than most people though. I’ve seen folks come through here and just start acting completely different... so different that their friends don’t even recognize them. We joke around and call it ‘Evil Twin’ syndrome. Sometimes they get over it. Sometimes they don’t. Then we’ve had folks turn into troggs and...”

Jezi tuned out his voice. It was annoying and grating, and wearing on her already pained head. Friends?

...Where were her friends?

A random string of images flashed through her mind.

A cave in Azshara.

Ragefire Chasm.

Stranglethorn Vale... books? Something about books...

A dark place... a powerful place...

Then the snow.

Stumm was there. He was there in the snow, waiting for her. With...

There was something she wasn’t quite remembering...

Suddenly her eyes went wide, and her blistered hand flew to her mouth. “KODO!” she screamed, scrambling to her feet in spite of her aching head. She fumbled through her pockets looking for her runes. She always had runes on her... never left the city without them!

...But she... didn’t have any.

She ran quickly out of town, skidding to a halt before the flight master. “IneedtogotoOrgrimmarnowplease!” she said in a hurried rush, bouncing with excitement.

The already long flight from Tanaris to Orgrimmar seemed to take years now that Jezi knew what was waiting for her. When she finally landed, she quickly demanded a flight to Everlook, as fast as possible.

Finally after what seemed like ages, the white, snow covered fields of Winterspring stretched out below her. She urged the wyvern faster, but the beast just grunted at her and kept on at it’s same pace.

“Go faster you stupid thing!”



~~~



XANAPHIA:

"You STUPID bastard! What the Fel were you thinking?" Xanaphia leapt from the wyvern's back just as it landed, and stalked towards the mounted tauren shaman, arms flicking out in all directions as she harangued him.

"She was almost BETTER. Then you get involved with some bloody exiled troll - who was probably exiled for a GOOD REASON - and you send her off after the poor girl? She's got TRAUMA. Trauma caused by YOUR BOSS. You're the LAST person she needs to see right now. With the possible exception of that thrice-cursed forsaken bastard you work for. Honestly, do you EVER think?"

Finally reaching Stumm, she slammed a gauntleted fist into the side of his head, knocking him from his mount. As he fell to the ground in a clatter of mail, she glared down at him, golden eyes incandescent with rage.

"We have to go find her. Get to work.”

Stumm simply raised his thick arm, pointing at something behind Xanaphia. The warrior turned around, her mouth dropping open wide as she saw Jezipali running, and falling through the snow drifts.



~~~



JEZIPALI:

When she landed, she took off through the snow, stumbling in the deep drifts and falling several times. She saw smoke rising in the distance, the remnants of a fire that she vaguely recalled, and tried to pick up her pace, which only made her fall more.

Then she saw it.

That dazzling white kodo, covered in silver armor that glittered in the sun. She ran full speed, to the great beast, catching it in a tackling-hug.

The tiny kodo, perhaps half the size of a normal kodo, looked at the strange Troll with an odd sort of bemusement, and flopped over on his side with a loud, “Ohnff.”

Jezi, in the meantime, was raving to Stumm about how wonderful the beast was. “Oh he’s beautiful. And he’s so sweet! He’s the best mount ever, but he’s so tiiiny. But that’s probably better because I don’t think I could control a big kodo anyway so the little one will be better for me as it is!”

She continued on, for perhaps five minutes, bubbling forth a million more reasons why her kodo was the best kodo, as well as naming the beast. Bubbles, was what she decided the call the giant lizard, because Bubbles, as it turned out, was the best name ever for a kodo, as decreed by Jezi.

Finally, she took notice of Stumm and Xanaphia, and the odd looks that they were giving her. “...What?” she said, glancing between the two.

“Jezi... are you alright, honey?” Xana asked, taking a cautious step forward.

“Of course I am! I feel just fine. I’m not really sure what happened though. All I know is that I woke up in Tanaris and there was a goblin there and he was poking me to wake up and... Ummm... And I have a headache. Then I came back here! Because I remembered that Stumm had a tiny kodo with him, and he knows that I’ve always wanted one, and I knew that he just had to have gotten it for me and...” Jezi paused in mid-ramble and looked over at Stumm, “You did get this for me... right?”

Stumm grinned and nodded, “Of course I did.”

Jezi squeaked with glee, releasing her new kodo from its hug, and dashed over to hug the huge Tauren.

He patted the top of her head gently, before wrapping his large arms around her tiny body. “Welcome back, little sister... welcome back.”

~Fin~