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About Aneerys

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  1. It’s just a finger. I keep telling myself that. I keep telling others that, and they look at me like they’re not sure how to react to my calmness about the whole thing. It could have been so much worse. And the doctor fixed it up as best he could. My date from the auction a while back. He was not at all what I expected. He was nice. “Booze money,” the finger stealer said, and “Be glad it’s just the finger I got paid for.” That was after he made me tell him which of my hands I use more. He cut the finger off the other hand. He wasn’t unnecessarily cruel, and he didn’t seem to take exceptional pleasure in the task. He was huge, and spikey, and so strong. It could have been so, so much worse. But people don’t consider what could have happened, only what did. But it’s only a finger. For now, at least. What did happen, what I did lose, doesn’t frighten me. But what’s next? A hand? My head? Just watching my back all the time, waiting for a next strike? Every time I remember the grip of death’s tendrils around my waist, yanking me into that alley. Every time I envision those frosty blue eyes before me. Every time I catch my breath, remembering that huge plate gauntlet around my neck. Every time the stump of my pinky finger throbs, or an itch settles on a digit that is no longer there, I wonder. Who paid him? At first, I thought of Skylah. She knows who I am, or thinks she does. Would she have paid someone to mutilate my hand as payback for what was done to hers? Then I found out that the Cardman received my finger as a gift. It was even wrapped up in pretty paper. He didn’t seem to have a clue who sent it. But I did. I knew it wasn’t Skylah. She would not have sent it to the Cardman. At least, I don’t think she would. She didn’t seem the type to send grisly presents like that. I know of one who does send such gifts though, and if my suspicions are correction, this won’t be the end of it. But I can’t tell anyone, not without revealing my own identity. So I balance the risk of my safety against the new life I've begun to build for myself. It is not an easy choice, especially without any way of being certain of who's behind the attack. Aside from the sisters, who I never see any more, and Lilly, who I avoid, nobody else has shown any sign of knowing who I really am. Until last night. I tried to play dumb, but he wouldn’t have it. He said we would talk later, somewhere quiet. I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to that meeting, or dreading it. In any case, although he could certainly make things difficult for me if he chose to, I am confident he can't hurt me, not without straining a long-standing trust with someone else.
  2. Things are going good for me in Dalaran. Very good. I’m still staying at Daerek’s apartment. He’s rarely here, and when he is here, he sleeps on the couch. He also keeps a tailor on retainer for me, for whenever I want new clothes, and he usually leaves some grocery money for me. I don’t know why he’s been so nice to me. He must want something. Eventually, he’ll ask to be paid back in some way. But for now, my life in Dalaran is comfortable and easy. Hopefully he survived his date. Nobody has recognized me. Well, other than the sisters and Lilly. But I’ve managed to avoid them lately. There are a few other people I thought might recognize me--the cardman, the demon elf, the halfling--but they haven’t. It’s been over a year now. I guess they’ve forgotten. Or maybe I look different enough. I went on a date. It’s just from the date auction, but it was nice. We had a picnic in Stormwind, overlooking the harbor. I was worried, but he was a perfect gentleman. He didn’t even ask any uncomfortable questions like where I’m from, or do I have a family, or anything, even when he noticed I was nervous when the guard yelled at us. It was a very nice evening. I even joined a guild. A peaceful guild, so I won’t have to fight. It’s so different here. You don’t have to be a fighter or act all tough here to fit in. People are nicer than I remember too. Nobody has been mean or threatening to me. Some days, I don’t even think about before. I think I can finally make a life of my own.
  3. They want something from me. The Sisters. Especially Skylah. She showed me her arm, her fake hand that replaced the one we cut off. She knows….something. She knows the Professor was involved. What does she want? I’m afraid to find out. She gave me a gold coin and told me to use it to get in touch with her. I won’t. She asked me if I was friend or foe. I told her I am not her enemy. I didn’t tell her I was once. There were lots of people at the Winter Veil party. The card man was there. I don’t think he recognized me. He always seems happy. And mysterious with his magic cards and strange accent. He was talking to a dwarf, who was talking about other people. I recognized some of the names the dwarf said, but I pretended not to. Those people are from before. Those people are people I must never see again. Natherren was there, which is probably the only reason I didn’t bolt from the party when Skylah started talking to me. He’s nice. He’s always quiet, but I don’t think he would let anyone hurt me. When the sisters left, he moved his hand away from his side. I think he was ready to stop them if they tried to hurt me. He lets them question me, but I think he wouldn’t let them hurt me. Not while he’s there. I met another man there. He said I should get a job at the Legerdemain Lounge as a waitress. He’s also in the Empire. Someone told me his name is Gabriel, but he said that was his name when he was alive. Now he’s dead, and he goes by Skaern. Nath told him he still has the dead thing going on, and his armor and weapons didn’t help with that. I didn’t notice. I think he’s nice. There was a strange lady there at the end. She couldn’t talk unless she held someone’s hand, and then she could only talk right into their mind, or anyone’s mind they were touching. She said she is lonely. I told her being lonely isn’t that bad. I am lonely, but I know there are worse things to be. I felt sorry for her, but I also thought she was scary. I don’t want to see the Sisters again. They don’t like me. I have to be careful. Mr. Skaern seems nice, but he’s in the Empire too. Maybe he’s only pretending to be nice to trick me for them. I can’t trust anyone. I will always be lonely, like the lady who can only talk to someone's mind. It's safer that way.
  4. Stormwind has been quiet, and the guards were starting to notice me. They hadn’t caught me doing anything, but they watched me more than I liked. The crowds have thinned. There are fewer other people to catch their attention. For a while now, I’ve been hearing people talk about the floating city of Dalaran, so I went there. I didn’t know what to expect, but it isn’t bad. There’s an alchemy shop where I can work on potions. There’s a coffee shop with tasty pastries sitting right out on a display on the counter where anybody can take them. They’re so good! Sweet and flakey and soft. The first time I took a pastry from the stand, a man sitting nearby saw me. He looked at me like he expected me to say something, but I didn't. He didn’t say anything either. He put some money on the counter and went back to talking with his companion. Another time I took a pastry, a lady saw me. She cornered me in a chair and questioned me. She offered to pay for the baked good and buy me another one if I agreed to let her wash my hair. How strange! Why would a well-dressed lady want to wash my dirty hair? I didn’t trust her, especially since she was obviously a warlock, but I was hungry. So she washed my hair and gave me a bed to sleep in for the night. I haven’t seen her since. I often wonder at people’s kindness. It’s not at all as I remember. Back in Stormwind, there was that nervous young man who stuttered. He gave me enough coin to stay at the Recluse for a few nights once. He must be rich. Maybe I should try to find him again. Maybe I'll see him someday as I explore these new lands in search of herbs for my potions. There is a feast planned for Pilgrim’s Bounty for anyone to attend. My mouth waters each time I imagine what kind of foods might be laid out there.
  5. How do you live again, after being dead for so long? My whole life--and unlife, what part of it was mine--I always knew what I was supposed to do. I knew my place and purpose. Now...I don’t. I just wander around, like I'm still a ghost, just trying to make it through the day so I can try to also make it through the next day. And the next. And the next. Until…..what? I die again? From hunger? The cold? Demons? Some crazy murderer? Her? What is the point of it all? The Westfall ladies were nice. They gave me a bath and a soft bed to sleep in and a new dress. And food. As much as I wanted to eat. They said I could stay there as long as I wanted. But I only stayed a few days. I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anywhere. I felt drawn back to the Mage Quarter. He must go there someday. The Blue Recluse is where I met some of his men. With the black and white swirly tabard. But none of these men were his men from the other place. I never saw these few before, but if his men go there, he would go there eventually. Then I could hide and watch him and hear his voice again. But I don’t think I’d let him see me. I wouldn't want to see the disappointment on his face. He said not a living person. Donnabelle wasn’t dead. Not really. But I took her anyway. It was my only choice. I don’t know if he would understand why I had to do it. Or why I have to lie and steal. What if he hates me? It’s hard now. Before, things didn’t matter so much. Food. Warmth. Shelter. Protection from people. Now I need all those things. And sometimes people don’t give them willingly. On my way back to Stormwind, in my nice new dress, I stopped at a leatherworker’s shop in Goldshire. I pretended I had every intention of paying when I had her fit me for a new set of leathers. She said to come back in seven days, and I could pay for it when I picked it up. On the night after the seventh day, I picked the lock on the door of her shop. I found my order waiting for me in the back room. I’ve never had anything that fit me so well. I have to be careful though. The last time I was in the Mage Quarter, I saw the priestess at a Hallow’s End party. She has her hand back. She looked at me funny, like she knows who I am. Maybe not. Maybe. She noticed me. She looks good now. Much better than the last time I saw her. She's pretty. Her hair is red, like mine, but not like mine. Hers looks soft and clean. I bet it smells nice too. The elf said my chi could make Donnabelle’s body look like me. Only a few people saw me as me, when they knew who I was. Who she was. But if the wrong people find out who I am…. if she finds out…. I won’t be safe. I would get dead for real. Or worse.
  6. Over the following weeks, Anee met quite a few people who could see and hear her—some priests, shaman, warlocks. There were many people, it seemed, who could contact ghosts in Azeroth. None, however, were both willing and able to help her get a body of her own. Then she met Kyal’la, a night elf woman, who spoke of something called Chi, which she said was a “life force kinda.” Kyal’la also asked her the usual questions: What’s your name, where are you from, what happened to you, and Anee gave her the usual answers, mentioning the Professor that was helping her to find a body. “Well, if you’d like, I can help find you a body to help look for him,” Kyal’la offered. “Or to at least help you out of this bar. You see, I work with healing people all the time, but sometimes…people cannot be healed of the mind, so their body wastes. I can transfer your Chi into them, giving you the body, and letting them…live on in a sense through you.” “OI,” a nearby dwarf objected when he overheard them. “YOU STOP THA’ THOUGHT RIGH’ THAR MISSY. Ye canna jus’ go aroun’ stealin’ people’s bodies!” “It’s…what?” Kyal’la said. “It’s not stealing! It’s like an organ transplant!” “With a person’s soul lass?!” the dwarf questioned. “Not soul!” Kyal’la argued. “Chi, there’s a difference.” “Oh!” the dwarf said. “Is there, lass? Do tell.” “A person’s Chi is like…a whole of their soul and mind combined with a natural energy. In a sense, it is what makes a person whole. These people’s bodies are wasting away in a vegetative state, so their Chi wanes, as do their souls and bodies.” Anee stared at the floor, wringing her ghostly hands together as she listened to two strangers argue about her possible fate. The dwarf looked at her. “See, lass,” he said to her. “Thar’s a problem with that. Judgin’ by yer whole thing ‘ere, ya died an’ lost yer body already.” Anee shook her head and whispered in her echoing voice. “But I didn’t die.” She had to explain that she was split and pulled out from the other one. They asked about the “other one” but Anee wouldn’t say anything about her. If her other half found out that she still existed, she probably wouldn’t be existing for much longer. The dwarf still objected to Anee moving into someone else’s body, but Kyal’la held out her hand to the little ghost in an invitation that Anee accepted after a moment’s hesitation. Kyal’la led Anee out of the tavern and to a medicinal ward near the Cathedral. The dwarf followed them. Inside the healers’ building, a few people wandered about. Many bore severe head trauma as evidenced by their bandaged or scarred heads. The dwarf paused near an unconscious patient to mumble prayers and calls to the elements. Kyal’la went to one particular patient, a young human woman who lay with her eyes closed, deathly still upon the bed. Her husband, a young dwarf man, sat beside her. His name was Larion, Kyal’la informed them, and the woman’s name was Donnabelle. Through the introductions, Anee learned that Thalstan was the name of the grumpy dwarf who followed them from the Blue Recluse. Donnabelle had been attacked more than two years ago with shadow magic that had wiped her mind clean. Anee looked at Larion. He looked sad as he rubbed his wife’s arm. He also looked weary. Anee wondered if he was still here out of genuine hope or only dedication to Donnabelle. She knew the answer to that, when, after Kyal’la’s sensitively phrased inquiry and following discussion, Larion told them that Donnabelle would have wanted to help someone else as her final act. Kyal’la ushered Anee and Thalstan out of the room with her to give Larion some privacy as he said goodbye to his wife. Thalstan stormed out, resuming his argument that this was wrong, that Anee should find her own body and lay her claim to it. She made no attempt to explain to him why that wouldn’t be possible. Kyal’la managed to calm him down, and he agreed he would not interfere with what was about to happen. “Thank you,” Anee breathed in relief. Thalstan pointed his finger at her sternly. “Dunnae thank me, lass. Thank the bloody man an’ wife ‘oo’s letting yer possessive shite ‘appen. An’ iffin’ I ‘ear about you abusin’ tha’ body or committin’ any crimes, aye’ll hunt ye down an’ end yer bloody life.” Anee blinked at him nervously just as Larion summoned them back to the room. They returned to Donnabelle’s bedside, and Kyal’la began the ritual. She patted Anee’s arm and took hold of Donnabelle’s, breathing deeply as she began concentrating. Bubble-like orbs of natural chi were summoned around them, and the spirit of Anee was soon aglow with energy. She was siphoned into purest energy as what resided in Donnabelle was drawn into it carefully, as though drawing blood. Kyal’la took another deep breath as the two energies intermingled, and soon Anee was slowly absorbed by Donnabelle’s body. The room glowed with emerald energy as the two energies were suffused completely together. Anee gasped suddenly, and tried to sit up. She winced as she found her new body slow and stiff after two years of bedrest. Still, she welcomed feeling anything physical. It had been over a year since she had control of a body of her own. Kyal’la was at her side to help her, spreading the healing mists over the patient, invigorating her muscles after their entropy. The elf woman asked Anee some basic questions to make sure her mind was there—her name, her location, her favorite color. Then she helped her to stand and walk to the door. Larion had watched them quietly through the whole thing, but now he spoke. “I’d makka las’ request, lass,” he began. “I’d….like to feel me wife’s arms one las’ time.” Anee froze. In her experience, a man’s touch was never pleasant. But this man had graciously given her a second chance at a real life, and, so far, he had asked for nothing in return. Except a hug. She nervously looked at Kyal’la, who nodded in encouragement while Larion moved forward with his arms open. Anee stood where she was, looking down at the floor and resisting the urge to run. When the man embraced her, she gingerly lifted her arms to his sides. Larion took a ragged breath as he gulped down his emotion, then, after a few moments of connection, he removed himself from her. “Thank ya, lass,” he said. “Now, live. Live fer ‘er sake.”
  7. Anee
  8. Something had happened. At some point, they must have come to Stormwind. Somehow, she got out and they got separated. She remembered they went to Scholomance together before that. He had hoped to find a book there that contained some spell that would allow her to have a body of her own. She didn’t remember much from that point on until she found herself wandering the Mage Quarter. But she wasn’t concerned with that. She didn’t even realize the trauma of being separated and freed from a physical body had caused a bit of amnesia about that particular event. She was more concerned with the people that were nearby. People were dangerous, unreliable, and untrustworthy. They were cruel and wicked and abusive in various and creative ways. She had learned that throughout her whole life. Those who weren’t mean were victims of the ones who were. There was an exception to this, she knew. The man with the black and silver hair. He was always nice, to her at least, though she had seen him be cruel with someone who had deserved it. He protected her, made her feel safe again, and promised to help her find a body of her own. She should find him. So she wandered the streets and grassy areas of the Mage Quarter, unwilling yet to go too far away in case he was nearby. She avoided people, though she soon realized that they couldn’t see her. In fact, one person walked right through her as if she weren’t even there. She looked down at herself, and then held a hand up near her face. She could see through it. I’m still a ghost, she thought. She couldn’t fly or walk through walls or anything like that. It seemed she was blocked by inanimate, solid objects, but people and any type of moving objects would pass right through her. Nobody could touch her, which meant nobody could hurt her. She also could not hold, move, or otherwise manipulate objects that weren’t already on her own person, like her serving dress, or the tankard she carried on her belt. It wasn’t long after realizing that nobody could see or hear her that she made her home in the Blue Recluse. The tavern atmosphere seemed familiar to her, and with nobody able to see her, she could roam the floors, and dance, and come and go as she pleased, observing the patrons for entertainment. One night, ghostly Anee was roaming around the Blue Recluse like she normally did, confident that the patrons and staff couldn’t see or hear her. She hummed to herself and danced and walked up and down the staircases. Three men and a woman were sitting at one of the tables. Anee recognized the Draenei man as the Cardman. He was doing a reading for one of the other men at the table who seemed to have lost all memory of his past. The other man, who was missing a hand, made comments about the cards and the reading. The woman, a Draenei, observed quietly. Anee stood on the upper level against the railing, watching them with their card reading. She liked listening to Cardman. He always sounded cheerful with his strange accent and his habit of laughing too loudly. Suddenly, the one-handed man looked right at her. He looked at his companions uneasily, then he rose and ascended the stairs. Anee bolted down the other staircase and hovered near the entrance. The Draenei woman rose from the table and joined the human upstairs. Anee couldn’t hear what the two said upstairs, but then a giant spider came skittering toward her, its abdomen quivering with anticipation. With a squeak, Anee darted out the door into the grassy area just past the mage tower. The spider followed her, followed in turn by the Draenei woman and the one-handed man. Then she lost them and paused under a tree near some bushes where, for a few minutes, she was alone to watch fearfully for the spider. “You,” the man said, looking right at her. Still, she looked behind her, hoping he was talking to someone else. If people could see her now, she was no longer safe. There was nobody in the bushes behind her. The man’s expression did not look friendly, and he had a commanding tone in his voice, but no weapons were drawn. “Are you alright? You ran from the pub in a fight it seemed,” he questioned her, his voice seething with suspicion. “You can see me?” Anee whispered. She cringed, her arms wrapping around herself, looking from the man to the approaching woman and her spider. The arachnid clicked its front pair of legs together, wiggling its abdomen playfully. Anee backed up a few steps, but was soon stopped by the bushes behind her. “Of course we can. Why wouldn’t we?” the man said. “Because,” Anee started in a whisper that carried a soft echo. “Because I’m not…real…” “Yeah ya are,” the woman said. “People can’t be unreal…?” “I’m only a little bit….” Anee said, holding up a partially transparent hand. The spider took a step closer, and Anee gasped. “Please don’t let it eat me.” “He’s not gonna,” the woman responded. “He only eats real things.” As if to prove her words, the spider attacked a squirrel that wandered by too closely. Anee blinked, then wrung her hands together. “Gril, send that beast somewhere less terrifying,” the one-handed man said to the woman. He stepped closer to Anee, and lowered himself to her height. His voice was lighter this time when he spoke. “What’s your name miss?” “Anee,” she answered after a hesitation. “Tell me, Anee, where did you used to live?” She frowned, thinking about that question. She couldn’t exactly tell him that she lived in someone’s mind. He already seemed suspicious of her, and if he thought she was crazy, he might lock her up. “A nice place,” she finally answered. It wasn’t a complete lie. “With a big bed and a balcony overlooking a party area. There was a big library there too, with a secret passage that led to a lake.” He and Gil, along with the spider, escorted Anee to the Keep, but when they arrived, the man soon realized that wasn’t her home. Guards ushered them away, looking right at Anee. They could see her too. “You have a surname, Miss Anee?” the man asked her. She realized she still didn’t know his name. It didn’t seem important. “Umm…I don’t know,” she answered. She hadn’t yet thought up a new last name, and she wasn’t going to go back to using Breen. That would make it too easy for anyone to find her. “Do you remember how you died?” the man asked. He seemed to be getting frustrated that he couldn’t figure her out, couldn’t help her. “I remember sick once,” she said, frowning. It wasn’t quite a simple question as it seemed. She had originally died from the plague, but then she became a ghost when the warlock sucked out most of her soul. “And I remember a warlock. But the warlock didn’t get all of me, so I had to hide from the spiders.” That got the man talking about Duskwood and a mass murderer who lived up there a few years ago. Then he asked her to describe the spiders, and she did, though she doubted he ever saw them. They were the guardians of the Spider Gate. As the hour grew late, the Draenei woman and her spider left, much to the relief of the little ghost. The man seemed interested in finding out who Anee was, where she was from, how she died. But Anee’s concern was finding a body for herself. The man seemed doubtful about the possibility though. He said he would try to find a way to help her, but she could tell he didn't have much hope for her. The man left her then with her staring at the ground and gnawing gently on her bottom lip.
  9. In his now half-empty lab, Marrus sat in his old wooden chair behind his desk, trying to focus on his menial academic task such as grading research papers and writing the outlines for his next lecture. The tasks were not difficult, but at this point in his life, even the most trivial of errands became a monumental challenge. He'd lost who he thought was the love of his life. Sidney, now ex-wife, left him after being released from prison. He had tried as much as he could, but he finally gave in and submitted his research to SI:7 in exchange for the release of his wife. When she found out that he'd given SI:7 their research, it broke her. She could not live with the fact that her and her now ex-husband's research was going to be used for more martial purposes and, in line with her principles, left Marrus due to his betrayal, despite the fact that he did so to free her and save his family. Within his mind, the waitress stirred. She was sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair. She set her brush down and turned around as if looking for him, sensing his mood, as she often did. "Professor? Are you all right?" "I'll live, I'm sure,” he said with a heavy sigh. He'd been staring down at the same word for about five minutes, lost in the memories of his former love. She was quiet for a while, feeling as though she should try to cheer him up, but uncertain as to how. Then she asked quietly, "Can I help with anything?" "I...I'm sorry, Anee. All these gloomy thoughts aren't helping your development, I'm sure,” he said out loud with a sad sigh. "I guess someone to chat with would be nice... but I won't hold you to it. Nobody wants to talk to a guy that just got dumped anyhow" he sighs again. She folded her hands in her lap, and tried to smile encouragingly. "I don't mind. You're the only person I have to talk to." " mind if I join you in there?” he asked with a sad smile. He knew he'd neglected her the last few months and felt horrible about it, but knew she was doing alright as she'd been creating new memories and experiences that were beginning to take up increasingly larger parts of his soul. He did not mind however. He also knew that this would lead to her rehabilitation and eventually to her freedom... but how? Another question looming over his already fatigued mind. "I don't mind at all," she answered, eager for the company, and, at the same time, still timid at the thought of being around someone else. She rose from her chair and walked over to the balcony door as she spoke. "I like talking to you. You're always nice to me, even when you're sad." "Thanks, Anee... I'm glad you're here to keep me company as well. It's taking every fiber of my being not to go crawling back to her and beg for forgiveness..." he said as he materialized on the foot of the bed, sitting with his face in his hands. "So... what've you been up to these last two months eh?" he asked, tossing his problems aside to focus his mind on something else for a change. She leaned her back against the doorframe with her hands clasped in front of her. She gave a little shrug at his question. "Just...relaxing, going for walks, riding my horse." An orange cat walked near her, brushing up against her legs. She picked him up. "And playing with Pumpkin." Marrus couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as she mentioned Pumpkin. The little kitten was symbolic to him, a symbol of hope for Aneerys' future. "Well... that's good. I was truly worried my bad mood would ruin yours" he smiled apologetically at the girl. "I think we need to start talking about a way to get you your own body, Anee. It's not that I mind you being here, growing, healing, and keeping me company, but I don't like the idea of you being isolated in here either... so... any ideas?" he sat now leaning back on the bed, his leg crossed over the other in a relaxed manner. She pushed off the doorframe and came to sit on the bed beside him. A worried look claimed her expression at the thought of getting her own body. She was excited by the idea of being alive again with a mind all her own. And at the same time, she was terrified of being on her own. She folded her hands in her lap and stared down at them, and shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, we can't steal one from someone else, right?" "No, Anee... I couldn't steal a body... I mean... I guess I could, but it'd have to be somebody who REALLYYYY deserves it, or maybe even someone who volunteers their body", his words came out unsure. "What are your thoughts on the subject?” he asked, turning to her with a raised eyebrow. Anee continued to look down at her hands, catching her lower lip between her teeth. She wasn’t surprised by his answer. She knew he wasn't the type of person to steal a body from someone else, even for her. A worried frown settled on her lips. Pumpkin jumped up on the bed, and she pulled him into her lap, using the distraction to delay answering Marrus while she tried, unsuccessfully, to come up with a solution. "Maybe I'm not meant to be free," she finally answered quietly, still looking down at the cat as she petted him. “I mean, maybe there’s no way for me to get a body.” "There is no easy way, this is certain, but you'd be surprised what old magics lay forgotten in the old decrepit libraries of Lordaeron. I found a clue to such a spell, a spell long forgotten. A spell that may allow you to experience the REAL world once again, but I will need your help... what do you say? Take a little risk with me?” he turned to her, raising his eyebrow once again. "Come with me to old Scholomance to find this old tome that may give us the first piece of this puzzle we both want to solve?" he continued, hoping her skills as a thief along with his skills with the arcane could help him get through the challenge. “The old wizard school? I don’t know anything about magic or spells. I won’t be much help,” she answered. She trusted him though, and she glanced up at him, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before looking back down at Pumpkin. “But I’ll go wherever you go. I kinda have to,” she added with a little smile. He chuckled then nodded at her comment. "True, but hopefully you'll be moving around on your own volition if we succeed in finding this spell", he smiled. "Now, let's prepare for this journey...” he says simply, dematerializing within his mind to focus back into the real world. As he opened his eyes, his sight began to focus on the papers on his desk, notes and such that pertained to his research on the spell that would bring them one step closer to liberating her soul from his.
  10. One day, a few weeks after Marrus had rescued the shard of the soul that remained of the waitress, she sat with him on the bank of a river that was part of the setting he had conjured for her within his own mind. "There are some good things out there, aren't there?” she asked. “But there's lots of bad things too.” “Lots.... and yes,” Marrus answered. “But I want to be sure you mostly experience the good ones.” “It's nice here too though,” she said mildly. “Eventually you're going to grow,” he said with a long sigh, “and as much as I like your company, you'll eventually start to take over my soul.” "What if you can't find a body for me?" “You'll be safe and sound here until we do,” he said with a smile. “Don't worry... I won't let you get hurt, or disappear.” She nodded slowly. “What do you want to do when you're out?” he asked her. “I...don't know...,” she said. “I only know how to be a waitress.” Of course, she knew how to steal too, but she didn’t think he’d approve of that so she didn’t mention it. “Live in the city? Become a waitress?” he asked. “Where would I stay?” “Hmmmm,” he murmured as he thought. “You could stay in my cabin until you can get on your own two feet.” Again, she simply nodded. “Alrighty then... so just one problem... a body,” Marrus said. “I think I'd want to do this through a Shaman or Druid... I don't think the church would much approve of this.” “And they use nature magic. The Light…,” she said, and then trailed off. “But I wouldn't be Forsaken anymore, would I...?” “Nope,” he assured her. “Warm skin and all.” “How will you find a body? That doesn't already have someone in it, I mean?” “I think there may be an alternative,” he said, “which is why I want to consult a nature magician. The arcane is cold. Calculated. Unforgiving. Nature... well, let's just say I've seen some amazing things.” “What do you have in mind?” “I'm hoping there's a way to get your true body back. That would be best.” “And kick out the Shadowblade?” she asked pensively. “No. Well... I don't know. It has nothing to do with her,” he said. “And I want you to choose a different name. I certainly don't want the Shadowblade to ever find you.” The waitress nodded. “When you say my name, I think of her. I don't want that name anymore. And...I sure don't want her to find me.” Marrus played with a small flower in his hand. “Until we can find a shaman we can trust, I want you to keep experiencing things in here. Grow. Become whole again. You have a very beautiful soul. I want you to be happy. And eventually find a good man... and live out a full life.” The waitress blinked slowly at him. "A man..." “You don't like boys?” he asked, chuckling. She shook her head. “They're mean and cruel.” “Am I?” he asked. “Well, no...” “There are more like me, little one,” he assured her. “A good man. That won't be complete without a good woman. And he’ll treat you like a queen. That’s what I want for you someday.” The waitress nodded just to be polite, and turned to watch the wild ponies nearby. A cold breeze blew across the meadow and Marrus sighed. She guessed he must be thinking about his own wife, who was locked in prison. “How much longer will she be locked up? “Right now, five more years... I've been trying to appeal,” he answered, looking down with a frown. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I still get to see her every day. But I just miss her.” The waitress nodded. “Will the appeals work?” “They haven’t yet,” he said with a frown. “Well...maybe they will.” “Do you want to stay here, little waitress?” he asked. “I need to head out.” She nodded. “I think I'll go for a ride.” “Remember, I won't let anything hurt you here. So have lots of fun.” “Okay.” “Goodnight, little one,” he said as he helped her back up on her pony. “Goodnight, Professor.”
  11. Three months ago.... A battle took place inside the Shadowblade’s mind. Her captor, Professor Marrus Luminus, had invaded with the aid of potions and magic to save the ghostly waitress that resided there, but she had been badly injured by the Shadowblade’s knife during the battle. The mage had mentally overpowered the rogue and took control of the environment, changing the setting to Stormwind where Alliance guards battled Syreena’s conjured Grim warriors. The mage himself was currently nowhere to be seen. The Shadowblade stalked to the waitress, who was lying still on the ground. A small dagger materialized in her hand. She yanked the non-responsive girl’s head back by the hair with her other hand and placed the blade to the waitress’s throat. "Do you think she's still alive, Marrus?" the Shadowblade asked, her tone laced with deadly intent. Suddenly, the entire scene disappeared--the soldiers, the Grim, Stormwind. All gone. All that remained was pure white. "If you hurt her, I'll erase all you hold dear, Sy!” the mage’s voice threatened. “Your memories of the Grim, the fact that you ever were one. Shit, I’ll make you hate them. You'll be the greatest slayer of Grim ever known!" Marrus materialized before her, now fully dressed in his battle garb. Other than his voice, there was no sound, no nothing. Just complete silence and the blankness of their surroundings. The Shadowblade slowly looked up at him from under her brow as a small grin twisted her lips. Aegis means shield, he had told her during the first days of her capture. He cared about the waitress; it was his job to protect helpless little things like her. She laughed softy. She may not be able to win this battle, but neither would he. Shadows swirled around her, a second dagger forming in her other hand, replacing the handful of the waitress’s hair. The unconscious, ghostly girl slid forward along the blade at her neck as she fell to the ground. A red pool collected underneath her still form on the white surface. The rogue held the blades in front of herself in a combat stance, watching Marrus with a challenging look. "You can save her, or you can destroy me. At the rate she’s fading, you won’t have time to do both,” the Shadowblade announced. “Tick-tock, tick-tock." The mage rushed to the little waitress and took her into his arms, looking up at Shadowblade with searing hatred. "You've bought yourself some time, but rest assured... there's nothing stopping me from destroying you now,” Marrus said before glowing golden light consumed him and the waitress. He took the ghostly girl into his mind and disconnected from the Shadowblade’s world. Present Day… For months now, what remained of the waitress had been kept safe within the refuge of Marrus’ own mind and soul. She was once Syreena Breen, and then she was part of the killer known as Syreena Shadowblade. What was once her name now only brought to mind memories of the one who betrayed her and then tried to kill her when she was weak. Now, she was simply the waitress. The first few days after the rescue were rough for both her and Marrus. The waitress was terrified at finding herself in someone other than the Shadowblade, and her panic also affected the Professor’s emotions, making him fearful and jumpy for a short time as well. Eventually, she calmed down, and though he still felt her emotions, he learned to separate them from his own. Occasionally, she peered out at the world as he saw it. In this way, she became familiar with some of the Eternal Aegis members, knew where they were working and fighting to help people in need, and picked up tidbits of news now and then. Most often, she remained completely tucked away in the private world of the Professor’s mind. It was safer there, and prettier, and quieter. Sometimes he would materialize himself in his own mind and visit her. Once he took her to a lake that they walked on top of, and then took her to a luxurious bedroom that was to be her own. He gave her an orange cat and a wild pony that befriended her and let her ride anytime she wanted through the lush landscape of Marrus’ mind. Usually, she was alone, with only Pumpkin, her cat. Artemis, the talking owl, lived there too, but she rarely saw him, which was fine with her; he made her nervous. When she wasn’t riding her pony, she spent most of her time in her room, trying on the dresses and jewelry that filled the closet, or standing on the balcony looking at the stars, or eating as much of whatever food she wanted. She didn’t mind being alone. That simply meant there was nobody to hurt her, or threaten her, or even boss her around. Much of the time, she simply lay in her soft bed, experiencing the feeling of peace and security, and learning how to not be afraid. Sometimes she forgot that this world wasn’t real, or that she would someday have to leave it. She had become mostly comfortable around Marrus and looked forward to his visits, though his possible motives for saving and taking care of her still puzzled her. He was the only person she’d ever met who’d gone to any effort for her sake, and she knew she wasn’t worth the risks he’d taken to save her. The thought of living in the real world, or being near anyone else, simply terrified her. She understood why she would have to leave here eventually, but she also knew firsthand that the world was full of cruel people who liked to hurt others in the vilest of ways. For now and the foreseeable future, she was quite content to stay hidden away from the ugly real world and remain within the confines of the Professor's imaginative mind. Unfortunately, she couldn't stay here forever.....

About us

The Twisting Nether Gazette is a role play forum for characters on the RP-PVP servers Twisting Nether and Ravenholdt.  We have been active since November of 2005, a few months after the Twisting Nether server originally went live.  Our purpose is to provide a safe and inclusive environment where role players can meet and interact with each other, and, of course, post their amazing role play stories, art, bios, and journals.

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