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Katrynne

Consequences

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((This is a closed storyline. If you would like to participate, please contact Skylah-RH (A), Mackinzie-RH (A), or Filora-TN (H). Thank you!))

For months, Katrynne Simms had prowled the jungles of Tanaan in search of monsters associated with the ones responsible for the damage done to Skylah Mackinzie. But the jungle was large, and finding anyone there was a challenge. The worgen stalker had only managed to kill seven of the loathsome creatures. She may have unknowingly seen more of them, but if she was not certain they were Grim, she left them alone rather than risk a mistaken attack on an innocent.

Katrynne knew that specifically hunting for these monsters was frowned upon by General Larmont and the Councilors. It was certainly not within the policy of the Twilight Empire to participate in such a bloodthirsty hunt with no goals of diplomacy. She was willing to risk punishment though, if killing members of The Grim helped to make the Mackinzie sisters feel safer.

On the southern beaches of Tanaan, as Katrynne took part in her daily hunt, she caught the scent of a blood elf woman nearby. She prowled through the shadows and undergrowth for a closer look. When she found her target, she saw it was a blonde elf, though her figure was not as slender as most of her kind. She wore armor and carried a sword and shield. Most importantly, the elf woman wore a black and red tabard with the symbol of The Grim. Katrynne sniffed the air carefully, but only the other creatures nearby were the crabs and gulls.

The elf woman, Filora, stood at the base of a small cliff, atop which sat a nest with a sparkling, bejeweled egg. She frowned up at it, trying to figure out how to reach it. At a soft sound from nearby, her sharp elf ears twitched, but when she glanced around, she didn’t see anything out of place. Dismissing it, she started trying to clamber up the rocks.

“Ugh…it’s not even that shiny,” Filora mumbled to herself. Then she slipped and tumbled down the rocks.

From her crouched position in the tall grass, Katrynne pounced on her prone prey. Filora grunted and flailed ineffectively, pinned down. “Get off of me!” she yelped.

Katrynne only snarled in response. Her ears flattened against her head as she lowered her gaping maw toward the elf’s throat. Then she paused, drawing back with a calculating look in her gaze. However, Filora didn’t stop to ponder her good fortune. She seized the opportunity to unleash a stunning hammer of Light. While Katrynne staggered back from the blow, Filora wriggled out from under the worgen.

Filora reached for her hearthstone. Had Katrynne had been briefed on possible Grim targets, she would have known that Filora had done this before—shielded herself and teleported away before she could be finished off. But this time, the elf seemed to think taunting her foe was more important in the few seconds her attacker was stunned. “You don’t get to gank The Grim!” she told the worgen.

Katrynne shook her head, struggling to clear it, then she leapt at Filora, growling. Filora made an “Ack” sound as Katrynne knocked the hearthstone out of her hand. Still, Filora managed to activate her shield, giving herself a few seconds of invulnerability to deflect the clawed hand that was reaching for her neck. The elf ducked and charged, knocking the worgen to the ground. Katrynne rolled with the blow and reached again for the elf, only to be blocked by the shield.

“You can’t hide in there forever,” the worgen growled.

Filora scrambled after her hearthstone as her shield faded. “You’re going to regret this!” she snapped. “You better leave me alone if—”

Katrynne threw herself at Filora’s back, and the elf woman was flattened with an oof. She kicked at the ground, yelping in anger. With a knee on her prey’s back to hold her in place, Katrynne tore a strip of cloth from her cloak and used it to tie Filora’s hands behind her back.

“What are you doing?” Filora demanded as she squirmed.

“Shut up,” Katrynne growled as she tightened the knots. She tore free another strip of cloth and tied it around the elf’s head, over her mouth, as a gag. Filora made muffled, indignant sounds as she was effectively trussed up without even a chance to draw her sword and shield.

The worgen stood, pulling her prisoner up with her. She took away the sword and shield, and ran her hands over Filora’s armor, looking for any additional weapons or communicators, but found nothing. Katrynne picked up the hearthstone and threw it at the water beyond the beach. In an attempt to free herself, Filora flopped over, but Katrynne grabbed her arm and yanked her back up.

“Mmmpphrrrmmph!” the elf protested.

The worgen stared at Filora a moment, then nodded to herself, satisfied. She lifted an arm, summoning an enchanted jeweled panther, dragging the elf towards it. Filora was tossed onto the panther’s back like a piece of luggage, albeit one that kicked a lot, and fastened in place with straps attached to the saddle.

Katrynne mounted the panther as well, and signaled the cat to take flight. The canopy of the jungle sped beneath them as they flew away from the beach. Eventually, they descended and dismounted outside some tunnels.

Filora was dragged through the tunnels and then flung against a wall. A collar, chained to the wall, was clamped around her neck. She looked around, trying to figure out what this place was.

The worgen stood before her. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Need anything before I go?”

Filora stared at her, given the lack of ability to do anything else. “Mmph,” she responded.

Katrynne pulled the gag out of Filora’s mouth. “What was that?”

“Die.”

Katrynne simply nodded, putting the gag back in place. “Soon enough. Have a lovely night.”

Filora seemed to say a few more choice words to the worgen, though all that could be heard was more muffled mumbles.

“I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.” Katrynne turned and walked away. She brought her own communicator close to her mouth and spoke softly as she left the tunnel. She would spend the night guarding the entrance from a hidden position.

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There stands a small platform between three statues in the back of a deep cave in Talador. Filora is in the middle, her ankles chained to said platform. The statues hold the taut chains to her neck and arms respectively. A blindfold covers her eyes.

Filora raises her head when the two approach and scowls in displeasure. "Who's there?"

Mackinzie stopped just shy of the chained elf. Her face was swathed with a thin mask but her emerald eyes held rising contempt and unbridled hatred. "It's her," she spoke evenly.

Rorrek had drifted from Brianna's side as he entered further within the small cavern, coming to halt a ways off. He peered over his pauldron to the entrance once more, the man having been watchful and cautious before entry as well.

Filora tilts her head at the voice, trying to identify it. She is for the moment silent as she warily waits for more information.

Rorrek affixed his gaze toward Filora as Brianna spoke. He remains silent while observing the bonds of the captive.

Mackinzie removed her cloak and subsequently the hood and mask as well, and tossed it aside. She tilted her head, watching the woman with open hostility. After a moment, she begins rummaging in her medicine bag without further words.

[Filora]: Common... so you're Alliance. Probably human, if I'm any guesser.

Rorrek began to walk around the chained area, taking note of how the elf had been trussed thus far. His sabatons thud softly against the tightly packed soil of the cavern, echoing lightly as he circled.

Mackinzie withdrew a small vial and a syringe before placing the bag aside. She glanced towards Rorrek and finally spoke. "Remove her gauntlet, would you? I need a bit of exposed arm."

Rorrek merely nodded and stepped forward. His own plated hands see the desired gauntlet removed, the motion swift and none too gentle. He as well moves any cloth beneath which might obstruct Brianna's intent.

[Mackinzie]: Aye, and keep her still.

[Filora]: What are you doing?

Rorrek extended his gauntlets once more, roughly taking hold of the chained and exposed arm. His steel clad grip is as a vice with which to halt much struggle as it may occur. He nods toward Brianna afterward.

Mackinzie adeptly tied off a quick tourniquet of sorts before seeing the syringe dipped into the liquid and drawn within. She then jabbed the needle roughly in the elfs arm and released the heated liquid. "Thank you," she said to Rorrek.

[Filora]: The fuck?

Mackinzie completely ignored Filora as she removed the make-shift tourniquet and placed the items aside. At her hip, she unsheathed her dagger and took it in hand. She nodded towards the elf's palm as she looked to Rorrek.

Rorrek, once Brianna were finished, released the chained arm and awaited further instruction. He glanced to the prisoner with eyes which were distant and cold, holding nothing but quiet disdain.

Rorrek thereafter cuffed Filora's wrist with one hand as the other pried open their now unarmored palm. He holds such steady and readied for the following step.

[Filora]: What are you doing?

Filora demands, more angrily now.

Mackinzie chuckled lightly and grinned to herself, as if harboring a secret. The tip of the dagger was pressed harshly into the flesh of Filora's palm as she began to slice a rune symbol. She did so with meticulous care to the pattern but none for the pain caused.

Filora yelps in pain and tries to struggle, not that she's any match for Rorrek's strength. "Ow! Ow ow! Stop it! What are you doing!"

Mackinzie placed her palm over Filora's now bloody one, after she finished etching the rune. A few spell words were spoken as shadow arced from her palm to sear and seal the rune, which now glowed a dark purple. Still, she ignored the woman's questions.

Rorrek discourages the struggling by tightening his grip, specifically the one about her wrist, to the point where bruise may arise afterward.

Filora grits her teeth in pain, feeling the strange magic wash over her. "What do you WANT?"

Mackinzie stepped back and eyed the woman. Runes glowed at each of her palms, throat, and forehead -- each seared and sealed, each glowing purple. She nodded at Rorrek. "You can release the bitch now." Utter contempt burned in her emerald eyes as she watched her.

[Filora]: Fuck, what the fuck, you bitch...

Rorrek slowly released the captive from his indomitable grip. He then folded his gauntlets behind his back and stepped from the slightly raised platform to stand beside Brianna. He then, at last, spoke while appraising the prisoner. "Most thorough."

Filora 's head tilts again at the other voices. She frowns, still unable to place either of them.

Mackinzie finally addressed Filora for the first time, her voice dripping with malice. "Do you remember Skylah?" she asked without preamble.

[Filora]: Who?

Filora says, not skipping a beat.

Mackinzie did not seem disconcerted, nor did her expression change. She merely looked to Rorrek.

Rorrek glanced to Brianna and nodded. He stepped forward once more, quite calmly, while his gauntlet wrapped around the hilt of his sword. He then suddenly jabbed outward with the pommel, striking Filora's lip harshly before sheathing the weapon fully again.

[Mackinzie]: Perhaps such jogs your memory?

Filora's head jerks back with the impact, her lip split. She draws a sharp breath, then licks her lip. "That doesn't, but come to think of it, your smell does. Don't you humans ever bathe?"

Mackinzie ignored the question as she tilted her head and narrowed her gaze at the woman. There seemed to be a singular intent in her gaze as she continued, an odd tone to her voice. "Have you any remorse for what you did to her, elf?"

[Filora]: Is that why I'm here? To apologize? Did you not notice the tabard?

Mackinzie nodded her head once, to herself, as if satisfied that she were making the right decision. "We'll be seeing you again soon," she simply said, before turning to walk out.

Filora calls out in return as she walks away, "Can't say I'm not glad I don't have to look at your ugly face!"

Rorrek remained upon the platform for a moment longer, watching the contours of the bound captive for a time. There is no sympathy, and he looks upon her as would an impassive butcher before cattle. It is only as he departs that a flash of disgust is seen.

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(( It should be noted that the actions here do not represent the vision or views of Twilight Empire and those involved are acting of their own accord without consent. ))

************WARNING: Graphic Violence and Gore**************

The coastline curved along the foot of towering mountains, their slopes cascading upon a narrow beach which was soon engulfed by the sea. The swallowed shore then turned inward to resemble a hook cast at the end of a line. Eventually the waters receded to reveal a winding path which lead upwards to the mouth of a lonely cavern. An abandoned canvas partially sheltered the pile of scant belongings across from a moored rowboat. Perhaps this had once been a refuge from harm or a clandestine retreat seldom traveled, but now it was decrepit. The oars had not budged from their rowlocks for some time and the bow were tilted into the rocks. Much of Talador was as this scene since the march of the Iron Horde. Most had yet to reclaim the lives they had lost and left behind while seeking sanctuary from the tide of battle, even after so long. Whoever once tended to this secluded place had not returned. It was well hidden and far from any walked path or grove. It suited their purposes well enough and the Huntress had since seen her quarry kept in this solemn place.

Predatory eyes watched the pair approach from down the path, their gaze hidden in the shade afforded by the cave entrance. She had caught their scent before ever seeing them. The first was a full and feminine figure who walked with a purposeful sway which told of one consumed with thought. Supple and rich cloth accentuated her movement while mimicking the appearance of more stout wear. Her face was shrouded by a thin veil, but this did little to conceal the seeming aura which subtly emanated from them with every step. The curse bestowed the Huntress with senses beyond those of men. Her bestial instincts knotted her insides as she watched the woman approach, the hairs upon her nape standing on end. A feeling of unease seeped into her veins as the aura about the nearing visitor began to muster into an unseen shroud. Her concentration was almost wholly consumed, to the point where the second of the pair was nearly forgotten. A pace behind and to the side of the intimidating woman walked an armored man, his demeanor stern and wary. He was garbed in royal blue that was girded in brilliant gold. A short sword jutted from his waist and an immense shield hung upon his back. The Knight was always as this, for as long as the Huntress had known of him. He often seemed to meld into the background as a statue himself.

The lupine guard stepped from the shadows and intercepted the two as they breached the threshold of the cavern opening. "Magistra," she spoke respectfully to the darkly clad woman. Only a brief nod was exchanged between her and the woman's stalwart escort. She noted that his silent ire and caution had done little to abate since last they met. The Magistra at first did not respond to her and instead looked within the dim cavern behind the leather swathed Worgen. It was a dreary place, the stone and soil moist from brine which breached the slopes when come was storm. Moss clung especially about the inner crevasses to at least add some color to the darkened cave. All seemed empty until the trio of looming statues and the figure chained betwixt them. The carvings were Draenic in appearance, worn by time as the detail of their faces and once immaculately sculpted robes now stood dull. Their hands were folded in prayer and they looked to one another eternally. From their stone grasps extended chains clasping to and pulling at the neck and either limb of their prisoner. She was not petite as most Sin'dorei were known to be. Instead, her portions mirrored those of a humans more closely. Her legs were chained to the low platform she knelt upon. Perhaps this place had once been an alcove of serenity? Or, maybe a grave to commemorate anchorites long since deceased? Would these silent watchers have approved of becoming a captive audience for this? It did not matter.

The Magistra wordlessly moved to the wall nearest the entrance and began to trace invisible symbols into the stone. The lair had already been warded against sound before, but she was determined to ensure none escaped for what she expected to come. "Katrynne, the time has come," she spoke without peering over her shoulder.

Katrynne, the Huntress, grew wide eyed. She took several paces past the two and looked outward, as if seeking another. There was no one else to be seen. When this became apparent she turned and her gravelly voice became perturbed. She moved deeper into the cave to impede the other two from entering further. "Where is the Chancellor? Where is Skylah?" Katrynne balked uncertainly.

"She will not be here. My sister is doing well and I cannot disturb her from the comfort she has finally found. She is not ready to return, and I will not take her from that haven for this," replied the woman calmly.

Katrynne bristled. "You can't kill her tonight, Brianna. Not without the Chancellor... this was to be for her. I understand that she needs distance, but we can hold the monster until she returns."

It was then that the third among them stepped toward her, in all his armored regalia. His expression was stern and brooked no desire for debate on the issue. Katrynne's clawed hands clenched and her hackles rose defensively. She knew what he was going to say. This was a risk she had placed before them, and the longer they waited the more of a liability it became. Nonetheless, she was undeterred.

"Sir Therrien... This is Skylah's kill. If you're still worried about her being found, then I will stay here every moment myself and make sure that doesn't happen."

He was unmoved. She knew he would see to the deed himself if it came to it -- that is, unless she could stop him.

"Skylah will see everything that is done here today. She will feel it as I will," Brianna interrupted before the two could begin a heated quarrel. The Magistra was composed and regal in manner as she stepped from the warded opening. "You have my word, Katrynne. Now, stand aside and remove their blindfold. I want them to see." There was a strange gleam inside her emerald eyes, the mark of darker magic.

For a moment Katrynne, even while imposing as she was, hesitated. She contemplated what Brianna promised and how she would go about it, remaining in their way as she gave the idea thought. A priestess of her caliber could perform many feats, and the sharing of memories was easily among them. Eventually the assassin begrudgingly stepped aside and did as she was bidden. "If that doesn't work, there are others to capture for her," she muttered under her breath. She quickly stalked to the captive and roughly tore the blindfold from them.

Filora reeled from the sudden light. She had been deprived of sight for days, and even the dim cavern threatened to overwhelm her as she adjusted. She stirred in the chains that bound her, forcing her arms upward at all times. "Finally able to show your faces, cowards?" She sneered at her Worgen captor. But, Katrynne's back was already turned as she stepped away in frustration. She folded her arms and leaned herself against the curved wall nearby.

Brianna and Rorrek had since followed deeper into the cavern, the latter coming to stand at the wall across from Katrynne. He watched carefully as a sentinel from his position over the captive and two women. It was Brianna who stood closest to the prisoner, though there was still a sizable distance between them.

Filora's eyes were greedy to absorb everything about her surroundings. Within moments she had memorized the cavern and the faces of her holders. Their ominous words had echoed down into the cave, and she had listened carefully to it all. "So, the time has come, has it?" This particular face in front of her seemed familiar. Had she seen it before? No, but she had seen its likeness. It was then that it came together. "Ah, I see... That same pretty hair. You must be the harlot's sister, yes?" she probed. "That explains why you'd think this was a good idea. Stupid." Her face was calm and with a hint of smugness, perhaps seeking a rise from the woman that stood before her.

There was no answer as Brianna merely watched them. The shadowy sigils carved into Filora's flesh days before prevented resistance to her cursory probing, and the few sweeps she had done of the Sin'dorei's thoughts came to mind. As a woman of a noble house, Brianna was well versed in pointed words. The insults to her sister and herself had caused many rebuttals to flash in her thoughts. She ignored them all in favor of silence. There was no point. She knew that this creature did not feel fear. It was not from bravery that Filora was fearless, but instead an absence of the emotion. Brianna briefly thought on what else this thing did not feel. It did not matter. She knew what Filora would be feeling soon enough.

"Do you have any last words?" Brianna asked impassively.

Filora mulled this over for a time before glancing away. She smiled and shook her head from side to side. "Please, save the empty threats. You're from that pathetic guild that calls itself an Empire. You wouldn't dare." It was then that Filora had a thought. She looked down toward the stones to hide her smirk.

"Is there someone you want your remains sent to?" Brianna inquired. It was a hollow gesture and it would not be honored. But, there was a chance that such a question could betray the name of their kin or allies.

Filora ignored the question. "No, no...you wouldn't dare. Or... maybe you would? Maybe you feel you have to?" A cunning streak took root in her mind as she spoke in a purposefully timid voice. "I... know what that is like. For what I did to your sister. I had to since it was the only way to survive... in the Grim." She knew this ploy would most likely not work as it had before. But, she could not resist. Her posture in her chains went more limp as if to garner pity.

"I do not have to," Brianna said. "I want to."

There was no pity.

The unseen aura which surrounded Brianna gathered again, causing Katrynne's clawed hands to quietly clench around her folded arms. The priestess closed her eyes and focused on her decided method. It would not take long. When her eyes opened they were clouded with a dark amethyst shade.

Filora was defenseless. The runes etched into her skin thwarted any attempt to muster the Light to her side. Nonetheless, she did not feel the need. There was no foreboding in her stomach or chill up her spine. She believed herself to hold a measure of control over the situation, despite her circumstances. She had made to sneer at whatever her captor was preparing, but her attention was stolen as something gripped her limbs. Tendrils, of the same amethyst as Brianna's eyes, sprouted from the statues and ground surrounding her. They tied themselves like vices about her wrists and ankles. From the mouth of the statue behind her emerged another tendril which slithered down to grasp her neck in addition to the chain.

"Get these filthy things off of me!" Filora demanded, her voice full of outrage. Her protest was interrupted again as the tendrils began to lift her until her chains and limbs were tight. Soon she was completely suspended in the air.

Brianna's clothes and auburn locks rippled with power, as if a gust of wind had swirled around her. "This will hurt," she quietly stated. The tendrils began to pull.

Filora's thoughts raced as she attempted to thrash the tendrils loose. Eventually she stopped and looked down at Brianna with a realization. A malicious grin appeared on her strained face, and with an effort she laughed. It was a strangled sound due to the grip on her throat, but it still echoed softly in the warded cave. "So... now we are the same," she gloated while she could still breath. "You're just as... evil as... you think we are." The choked laughter returned before she continued speaking.

Brianna did not hear them. Just as before, it did not matter. She would not waste her words and she did not banter with the dead. She did not hear their voice struggle more and more between breathing and talking. She did not hear the strain of their limbs as the tendrils began to pull harder. She did not hear the involuntary shouts that came when the slow popping began. Instead, she heard the voice of her sister. Brianna heard Skylah crying and pouring out all she had endured. The torment she had suffered, the depravity she had withstood, and how despair had come to dominate her thoughts. Brianna knew Filora's sins, and for them she would see her torn apart. The Shadow hungered and it would not be denied.

Filora's joints cried out with unsettling sounds as they were dislocated one by one. The tearing of muscle and gnashing of bone filled the cavern with their hideous noises. The screams and gasping filled the voids in between as Filora's body shuddered and fought in an instinctive panic. "No... better than... us," Filora spat out, though it was difficult to understand in the wheeze it emerged with. All throughout the slow drawing she choked likewise insults. The Light would not answer her, and so this was all she had to use. The ugliness of vengeance.

It was then that Rorrek answered the gloating while watching their gradual demise. "Such is where oft falter the righteous. Should unable one be to lure vermin of their hovels...then prepared must one be instead to delve thither and see their likes purged amongst den and darkness," he proclaimed. He spoke as if reciting oath. The solemn man was unmoved by the gruesome nature of the execution. He continued to watch as if he were simply another impassive statue that held Filora bound.

Such was not so opposite of the Knight. Katrynne had fidgeted and watched with ever widening eyes. She could hear the breaking of Filora's body in a way the others could not. The sight and sounds of a creature in its death throes called to her cursed instincts. But, this conflicted greatly now with her conscience. She watched in horror, to be noted by the Knight across from them. The Huntress looked at Brianna in a new and disturbed light until she eventually had to tear her sight away. “Be done with it!" she exclaimed. She would from this day onward remember Filora's words and find herself agreeing.

"Feed...me...to...the...wh--"

Filora did not finish her final words. Her skin was flushed and visibly elongated into a grotesque appearance. Her body would not last. Still, she was completely unafraid. In her last moments there was no fear, only a deepening denial. Filora could not comprehend herself dying. There was always a way out. And then... it was done. There was a sudden and violent squelching before the end. A horrible and visceral ripping was heard as Filora's limbs were torn asunder and free from her torso. Her head was the last to be wretched from her body. The violence of the act saw the statues and tendrils coated in blood and other bodily fluids. So great was the pressure from this eruption that much was vaulted toward Brianna, but nothing would touch her. A shield of Light had instantly encircled Brianna. This halted the rain of gore entirely, and she watched Filora's still suspended pieces through the curtain of red. Only a growing crescent of crimson remained about her feet when the barrier fell.

It was over.

 

-Written in collaboration with Rorrek, and in editing with Filora and Katrynne-

Edited by Mackinzie
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