Xaraphyne

Eclipse - Penumbra

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[[ Meant to post this under Tassha... but it switched log-ins on me for some reason, and I can't delete this. Ah well. ]]

Nighttime in the Barrens. The dry plains were awash in azure, the lukewarmth of winter's day replaced by chill breezes that whispered secretively through the grasses. An occasional birdcry echoed, untraceable, as a small creature would be heard briefly scurrying to shelter. The river lapped at its banks, a restless sound.

Bright blue eyes were wide open, gazing upward through the hole at the center of the small hut at the small circle of night sky overhead. Only a few stars sparkled in that cutout, still giving lie to the suggestion of a circle of pure shadow.

She wasn't sure why she was still awake, or had awakened; she wasn't sure which it was, either. Sometimes Thoraggar came home late, but he had not yet returned since this day's morning. The hut was still empty, cold, even where she lay under her blankets.

Alone... as always. She didn't feel as alone when Thoraggar was around, but she always was. Her solitude was like a shroud.

Without really deciding to, she found herself rising and walking outside until her bare feet stopped just short of the river waters. The cold wind tugged at her loose blonde hair and her sleeping gown, insistent and demanding despite its gentle touch. She shivered, but not from the cold, looking down at the water. It wasn't very deep, but in the night the water looked black and forbidding. The dim glow of Orgrimmar seemed farther away than it should have.

What was she looking for?

Did it matter when no one was looking for her?

She started to turn, to simply return to her bed and sleep away such thoughts, when the howl of a lone wolf tore through the air. Tassha Rain Skybreeze, formerly self-named Tassha Wolfrunner, froze.

There were no wolves in the Barrens.

There was no telling from which direction it came, but she spun anyway, searching the hills and ravines frantically for any skulking shadows. There, across the river -- no, was it just her imagination? Wait, what was that in the hills above the hut? She clutched at her skirts, wishing now she'd never given up her Ranger leathers and that she still had the ability to run away at high speed. Though if she ran... she would surely be chased.

The shadows were not her imagination. They came closer, prowling, stalking, utterly silent. Multiplying. Only their eyes glowed golden in the sea of black that was their fur. They cut her off, the river at her back, more waiting on the opposite side. Tassha tried to think of any of the small spells she had learned since beginning to study the Light, but her mind could grasp nothing. Nothing at all, not the smallest prayer or curse.

She gasped as a wolf lunged, but it was only a feint, testing, mocking, before it slunk back to the pack. She raised her hands defensively but her mind remained terribly blank. That was when she realized she was not wearing her gloves. Had she removed them in her sleep? Why? Without meaning to, she turned them around to look at them.

On one she had once been marked; the mark of the Eclipse, of Accalia's hunters. She had thought it a blessing; the others who had been marked thought of it as a curse. Hers had been the most powerful of them all, but after Sinaku had been defeated, the mark had faded to nothing but a tattoo-like reminder of her grievous past mistakes.

But now it was glowing again. Hotly, golden-red. "No!" she cried, covering it with her other hand uselessly.

Spurred, several of the wolves lunged. One of them hit her dead center of her chest, its formidible weight knocking her to the ground. She raised an arm to ward off its snapping jaws as another got a mouthful of her skirt. Fangs closed directly on her marked hand, sinking in and tearing. Tassha cried out at the fiery pain exploding in her hand, struggling futilely against the weight holding her down as the wolf crunched harder and harder. Another wolf howled in triumph.

She awoke in her own bed, drenched in sweat and frozen to the core, as she finally managed to kick off her blankets and sit up, clutching her hand. In the dimness of the hut, the mark glowed through her fingers, an awakened promise of what was to come. The girl stared at it in horror.

The link to Accalia had been broken... How could this be happening? Tassha was free of all that now... Even when the Eclipse came, Accalia wouldn't be strong enough to break out of Her prison... would She?

"No," she whispered, helplessly.

_____________________________________________

Tassha_sig.png

Tassha Rain Skybreeze

Former Ranger of the Dark Sun; Priestess in Training

"Forgive many things in others; nothing in yourself. "

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((Shall this be the piecing to the Lunar Festival? If so, maybe people can post what they've experienced already in dreams and prepare the get-together in finding the reasons why.))

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Great! I'll have to finish up with the personal experiences. It should be adding closer since the Lunar Festival comes around soon. I don't know the date to it just yet. I'll probably get some posting done after I get home. :D ))

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((Shall this be open to others that might get involved with Lunar Festival when it comes around? There might be others interested in seeing the story unfold and close in the end.))

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[[ Of course, I should have put a note in the original post, this is meant to be the re-introduction to the Eclipse plot. It begins again... Mwa ha ha! So yes, anyone and everyone who is or who becomes involved with the Eclipse, please post your stories, summaries, responses etc. here! ]]

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The light of the moon was unnecessary, a hindrance actually; the inky black of the pitch of the deadest night would have been more suitable. High within the hills, the pack of wolves circled one another and paced, growling among themselves in a sign of their impatience, of their fury, their hunger... there would be blood, a feast... tonight.

Crouched and poised at the cliff's edge, a humanoid shaped beast with fur as sleek and dark as the wolves around him, kept a silent vigil with eyes that watch the valley below him. Orgrimmar's light burned off in the horizon a dozen or so miles out, faint and distant. Though, despite the city that loomed out there in the black, the creature's attention was focused down upon a small hut and the slender figure that wandered out to plant careful footprints towards the river's edge.

Raising up upon powerful, muscled legs, the worgen stood high and pointed his claws towards the elven girl below. A dozen other eyes came to bare upon him and follow his gesture, striding up to stand beside their master. One reared back and loosed a feral howl, joined in tune by several of the others to form a resounding symphony that echoed through the lowlands.

Slowly the pack descended, each paw set before the other in a slow stalking approach whose noise was drowned by the wind blowing towards their back. Anticipation grew high, for as the wind hid their approach, it carried the scent of their intended prey right to them. It wasn't long at all before they closed the distance, weaving in and out of the reeds and bush as a snarl captured the elven woman's attention. One of the wolves sprung forth and snapped at her ankles, driving fear deep into the cornered girl's heart like a hammer upon a nail.

The golden eyes of the worgen's pack would greet the gown wearing elf, each spreading away from the other as they quickly formed a trap to cut off any retreat, pinning the river to her back. In her startled surprise, she had risen her hands up as if to protect herself; it was then, with the flashing of Accalia's mark, that the worgen knew for certain. She wore the mark of the Hunter.

Amid the feral growling of the pack and their exposed fangs that glistened beneath the moonlight, the worgen looked down upon its own hand, turning it over, inspecting, scrutinizing. There, inscribed upon the flesh of its palm was a mark as well, Accalia's mark of the Prey. Rearing back and bellowing a defiant roar, the worgen signaled to the beasts to strike. One by one they lunged, quickly toppling the girl to the ground with their assault. Fangs tore through cloth and flesh, shredding away as if she were nothing more than a child's paper doll. They snapped upon her hands and feet, gouged her legs and arms and bit through Accalia's mark as if such blasphemy meant nothing. The worgen approached and looked the damage over, his shimmering-blue eyes a sharp and vivid contrast to the beasts around him. Satisfied with the grim work, he craned his head back and howled into the night, celebrating victory before reaching his lethal claws towards the stricken elf, thoughts of the killing blow a pleasure to his mind.

=======================

With a sharp gasp, Elek awoke from his bed and sat up, sweat dripping down from his brow as his naked chest heaved from the vivid shock and detail of the dream. The Blood Knight wiped his face with his hands, drawing away the moisture to be tossed aside with a flick of his wrist. Eyes, a faint blue even still, looked up to his window and at the moon so high above.

He would sigh, shaking his head and rubbing his brow in recollection to the growing frequency of his dreams and the sleep he had been losing because of them. It was then, as he drew his hands away from his face, that he noticed the edges of Accalia's mark give a faint luminescence... after being dark since Sin's defeat.

A nearby stirring was what eventually broke his transfixation, the Knight closing his eyes to draw a heavy breath while hands fell to his sides. Elek turned to look beside him, his sleeping lover resting on her side, lost in her own blissful innocence. He smiled upon seeing her there, shilloetted by the moonlight that filtered in through the window. She was always so beautiful when she slept, the way she smiled, even the way the curves of her body moved when she breathed. Reaching with his unmarked hand, he trailed his fingertips along her shoulder and arm, grazing with a touch as delicate as the brushing stroke of a falling feather. Leaning over, he set a kiss upon her cheek and slipped out from beneath the covers to rise out of bed.

Donning his robe, he left his room to search for a drink to calm his wired nerves, hoping to find a quick return to sleep.

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((This is taken from a good amount of time ago))

Naheal slowly made his way through the Searing Gorge. Little to no life seemed present in such a barren place as he scouted around, his mind wandering to what brought him to such an inhospitible place...

***

"Blood Knight! Please!"

He turned to face a panicked Sin'dorei. "I'm no Blood Knight, but I'll do what I can. What is it?"

"My expedition out into the Searing Gorge was ambushed, and one of my men was taken hostage. Please, I beg you... Find him and bring him back to us!"

Naheal quickly turned and mounted his warhorse. "Which way?"

***

He grumbled slightly as he came upon a small camp of dark dwarves. He swore, "And, here I was hoping to avoid confrontation." He slowly drew his blade, unslung his shield, and prepared for battle.

"Anar'alah belore!" He yelled as he charged into the center of the camp, grabbing the attention of several of the guards near the camp. He unleashed a blast of light energy all around him, concecrating the ground and causing his enemies to burn as they fought against him on it. He summoned more holy energy to protect him as the fight ensued, blasts of holy energy directing back at any guard that attacked him.

He fought fiercely, parrying or blocking most of the attacks that came at him, his armor stopping the majority of the strikes that he didn't. With a total of five guards on him, he had to fight concervitavely, attempting to save his strength and finish each guard off individually or allow the concecrated ground, the blasts from his shield, or the crackling holy aura around him wear each of them down.

After a long and grueling fight, he eventually downed each of the guards. His energy nearly gone from that fight, his legs gave out from underneath him and he dropped to the ground, his eyes wide open, though he was unconcious.

((I'll continue on later))

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The smell of blood was unmistakable. Not only was the scent strong, but it permeated nearly all of Anthek's hunting grounds in Feralas. He had managed to keep most other predators out of the area he had claimed for himself, but some large pack had become brave and ventured into it, slaughtering just about every animal they came across, all the way to the edge of the ruined city in the north. Perhaps the ogres kept them away, but the trail of gore turned away when it got close. He kept on it, a gray blur of a lion following whatever trace he could find of the intruders.

It was not hard to follow. The corpses they left behind were not even eaten, just torn apart, but still viciously enough that it could not have been any humanoid race to have done so in such a short time that he had been tracking them. He could tell they were not cut by any blade. The latest one he found had been an elk, a strong one at that, white of fur and taller than he was as a tauren. Anthek recognized it as one he had been hunting down before, always eluding him. The fact that the trespassers had killed it infuriated him, and he spurned on along the trail of blood they left behind. They would learn that not all who hunt by moonlight are wolves.

The flash of black fur and the snarl only warned him just in time to jump back from the incoming pounce. He leaned under the wolf, catching it's throat as he dodged beneath it. His fangs dug down deep into it's flesh, and the taste of hot blood filled his mouth. The wolf weakly clawed at him, but it's life had already been drained from it, with Anthek finishing it off with a crunch of bone. He let the body slump down free from his mouth.

"Only one..." he thought out loud. "There must be more." The wolf he had just killed had been alone, but it was fierce and unafraid of the much larger and more powerful form that Anthek held, so much so as to attack first. It had to have been desperate, or more were close. Perhaps both, if they were to enter his territory.

And he was right. Again, the snarling warned him of their approach, but, this time, in full force. They had surrounded him while he had dispatched their brother, at least eight of them. His gold eyes flicked a warning to all of them should they attack. They may have been fierce, but he was twice the size of all of them, and had a much greater intelligence besides. He heard a bark from over his shoulder, and three of them moved in on him. He leapt forward, and his claw caught one right across the side of it's head, raking it's fur and taking at least one eye. It rolled across the forest floor, and wouldn't be getting up again. Another strived to bite at his neck, but he caught it's leg in his jaws and wrenched it down, shattering the bones in it and leaving the wolf snapping at him, but effectively pinned. The last came at Anthek from behind, and managed to snap onto his hindquarters. He kicked it off, while he pressed down on the throat of the one he had pinned with his paw and snapped it's neck. The strike had left him bleeding, although, far from injured enough to restrict his movement.

He spun onto the last one, but it ducked back from his claws, and bit onto his paw. He bat it away with the back of his paw, and charged headfirst inot it, bowling it over. With it's underside exposed, his claws tore into it's abdomen, causing it's innards to spill out. His paw was injured, however, but he roared out in challenge to the rest of the wolf pack. Anthek thought they would back off and leave after having lost four of their own, but the rest never backed away, and moved in around the still bleeding dead. If they all attacked at once, he wouldn't be able to defend himself from them all. From the way they moved, it was just what they were doing.

________________________________

Anthek inhaled sharply as he awoke, but tried to keep settled as he remembered his mate was resting atop him. Raina had her cheek against his chest, and only sighed at his sudden movement. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to forget the dream and drift off back to a content sleep.

His rest was abruptly jarred away with a flash of pain in his forehead, traced along the lines of the rune that was drawn upon it. He clenched his eyes shut until the pain subsided, but was startled by the sight he found when he opened them. A ghostly pale form of a lioness stood at his feet. Anthek thought it another dream, but was wary by the feel of Raina against him. He had only blinked and the spectre disappeared. Resting his head back, he could only think of one thing from the dream he had just had.

Not all who hunt by moonlight are wolves...

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Abnormal lethal talons digging into vurnerable, lush soils of a vast scenery of green and serene wildlife..

A large canopy rises overhead, filled with that of emerald beauty. The skies are obscured..

The flashing torrents of storms rise overhead with the strengths of a thousand Gods in their voice of word. The skies begin to cry, the flooding rainwaters pelting at the soils with unnatural haste..

Gruff pants emit from a gaping maw, saliva puddling from gums that protrude rows of shark-like canines unable to be held within a humanoid..

Tufted ears pin back in an alert aggression, a threatening rumble vibrating against the hollow nape of a beast with bristling fur as majestic as the snow-capped mountains, a rigged pristine mane of the darkest of nights enhancing the horrifying nightmare creature..

Within the mistifying fog of midnight, feral, bloodlusting irises of moonlit yellow peer forth with a demonic glare of petrifying, narrowed slits, gleaming towards its prey.

Grasses crushed, a large, wolf-like foot imprints the soils, digging yet again into the muddied earth with its claws, rippling waters washing away at what appears to be recent bloodshed..

A lupine tail whips about feverishly with a beastial roar spiraling from the very heart of this unnamed..-thing.-..

A starvation like no other tempts it to move forward towards its targets. Overhead shines the White Lady, the pure moon in the spot untouched by the ocean of storm clouds, a looming shadow encasing her with periling doom..

The flash of lightning reveals the bodily structure of this abnormal creation to no one within eyesight. Well-toned muscles accompany smaller, though still broad shoulders, structuring bone-crushing claws at the lengths of six inches. The beast stands not like its distant cousins. Standing just over an estimated seven foot five, its posture imitates that of mankind. Its horrendous features provide itself with protection and useful for shedding blood..

Sparkles of fireworks crackle within the distance. Humble cheers and delightful humanoids dance and play during this eventful night. The women dressed finely in their festival dresses, the men nearing the tops in fashion with their suits. Foaming mugs clap with one another in the air, a toast of sorts. The elders shine high. Joyful laughs and loving smiles accompany the unwary festive attendants..

All of them oblivious to their nearing deaths, as a lone howl fills the ozone with its frequency of ear-splitting potency..

The prowl no longer exists, as a crying shriek tears through the land..

============

Videlle juts from her reverie with a heart-choking gasp. The organ's unstable pounding rises, ringing in her ear with its pulses. This had to be a vision of some sorts. Her eyes dialate, pupils narrowing within their angry maelstroms. Ebon brows arch in astonishment, her wild hair falling about her with the slightest bit of change. Her arms fold against each other in a rare shiver, her porcelain skin crawling with non-existant bugs.

Giggles and amused laughter soars overhead, though nothing is seen when she lifts her chin to gaze to the early noon skies of the calm Terokkar Forest. A fond nip of her newfound companion, a cobalt netherdrake of love and friendship, nudges her to stand and rise to its back once more.

Nothing there. It's just a dream...just a dream...

But the pain she felt next was not. Her hand sears with spontaneous flames, as if she were playing with an inferno, grasping at the flickering essence of fire itself. She nearly yelps in astonishment of the sudden outburst, ripping away at the gauntlet covering it. To her thought, she knew what this meant...and the vision linked with it..

And there it was, the Mark of Prey, thought to have dissipated..flaring with its bloody nature, grown more powerful than it had before in its dormant sleep..

The time is nearing again, the Lunar Festival of once a year remains the key..

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In the still confines of Moonglade the form of a large shu'halo sat silently at the side of the lake, his bright rosen-amber eyes gazing down at his own reflection in the waterside... Though his eyes were still filled with the fervor and liveness he had always known, they had lost the sheen of battlelust and rage. Now in the calm waters of the pool, Rannoch gazed down at the renewed wild animalistic aspects that had replaced his rough wartorn features.

A sudden howl shattered his train of thought, as the water about the pool rippled. Rannoch's gaze lifted immediately to find the form of a massive wolven figure bounding through the woods of the glade, it's powerful body rearing up once more to sunder the stillness of the grove. Rannoch rose to his hooves and began to shift his features into a swift feline form as he dashed toward the beast, but as he finished his shape shifting the beast was no more. Vanished among the trees, not even pawprints or a scent remained.

Blinking his feline eyes and sniffing around curiously, Rannoch scowled as a thought long forgotten now dawned on him..

"The Lunar Festival... Accalia..."

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In his solitude, Sinaku continued to dwell alone and in silence. Lounging languidly in his chair, the only face he would see was that of his vigilant owlhawk... Now and then it would appear with some hint of what events were taking place in Silvermoon City, but it always seemed to catch very little of Sinaku's attention.

As the sun began to set, and Sinaku began to doze off into slumber once more... a very faint howling began to call out to him. Almost inaudible at first.. it quickly grew to a deafening degree until at last Sinaku was upon the ground, clutching his ears and screaming.

"Beast!! Leave me be!! I am no longer one of your pawns!!"

Thrashing about, the maddened elf threw himself into the furniture around him. Splintering chairs and throwing over tables, he continued to cry out with the unyielding howlings of the worgen and wolves in his head.

Unable to take it any more, Sinaku began slamming his head against the wall to end the cries that rang through his mind until at last the wall turned bright crimson... and his sight went black. However, even as he lay unconscious, the savage hiss of a she-wolf beckoned to him...

"Return to me, harbinger...!"

When Sinaku regained consciousness, he staggered to his feet still horribly disoriented. Reaching down to the eyepatch he had dropped while in his maddened state, he began to place it back on but paused with horror. Something wasn't right. He looked around the room, pitch black from the dead of midnight... Half his vision was darkened to the lack of light, but part of it seemed bright and able to pick up details of the room in strange hues. The sight in his left eye had returned..!

Scrambling to the now cracked mirror upon the ruined room, he gazed at his reflection... shimmering from his once removed eye was a bright wolven eye.

"Accalia..!" he hissed to himself, quickly throwing on his eyepatch once more and reaching for his bow. Securing his quiver and bow to his back, Sinaku immediately set out into the woods... His destination would be the Emerald Grove of the druids...

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Waves crashed against the beach near him. It was a place from his youth, a sanctuary, as he called it. The one place he would go to find peace in times of need.

So much was lost. Will we ever fully recover?

"My love... Naheal..."

Naheal's head jerked up. That voice... not Jazziks... no, something more... He narrowed his eyes. Psyche? No, you're dead...

"Why won't you come back to me? Come to my side again..."

He slowly stood and started to follow the voice, but was stopped by a small child. The child resembled something he was long ago, yet there was a certain... disposition that was wrong with him. "Hello."

"Who are you?" Naheal demanded of the child.

The child smirked, a twisted smirk which Naheal recognized. Zael'dran... "Why don't you go after her?" He tried to follow the voice, but found his legs wouldn't obey. The child laughed. "What? Can't move?"

The child turned to walk away but stopped. "No. You can stay here with us."

With little to no warning, there was quite a few small children around him. He recognized most as the companions he fought beside against Sinaku when he was possesed, even Sinaku himself was there. All children.

Naheal slowly approached one, Risticus, who seemed frightened of him. "I'm not going to hurt you, young one. It's alright." Risticus slowly reached out a hand, but was pulled back by Zael'dran. He shook his head.

"No no... you're not welcome here. You're alone in this world. Remember that. You turned your back on those who trusted you to help people you didn't even know. You destroyed the lives of hundreds, slaughtered villages, even killed a friend and a lover. No. You stay away from these children, murderer."

Naheal stumbled back. He's right... He lowered his eyes and thought for a moment. "No. I'm not that man anymore. You were the one who did all those things, not-"

Zael'dran interrupted him, "But, without you, I could never have done any of those things. Your 'sacrifice' opened up the door to allow those you love to suffer and die. First, Psyche. Then, Vasago." He walked over and stroked Jazziks' cheek. "Who do you think will be next? No, fool. You can't be allowed to live. The time for your punishment has come."

Naheal's neck and wrist began to burn, the same scars which were given to him by the alpha wolf. Accalia... "You won't kill me yet. I still have work to do." He stood and drew his blade as a black wolf, one red eye, one amber, charged at him.

***

Naheal took in a sharp breath and sat up quickly. He was in a bed, the air stale. "Where..?"

A female Blood Knight soothed him. "It's all right, brother. I watched your fight, and watched you fall. You still have potential for someone who claims to not be a Blood Knight. Rest... you need to recover."

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Come back to me, dearest little thing. You deserve far more than you have gained..you deserve this power..strength like no other. You sought to relieve me from you, to turn me away. But you have not, I have only lain dormant. Yes, the others are just like you..lying dormant to wait for this approach. I have been dying for this moment..and soon you will be dying to just see me, too.."

A hissing laughter riddles through her mind. Her overwhelmed brain unable to comprehend this voice. She has not heard it before. The pieces can add together. Videlle just had to think! Think..that's what she can try to do..but will she be able to overcome the one speaking to her now? A foul taste rises to her tongue and the back of her throat. A taste that screams apprehension all over again. Her disdain, mixed with the misery of the returning mark. Bloody crimson swells within darkness that consumes everything in matter. Nothing exists in that black hole upon her frail, yet delicate hand.

Visions return, assaulting Videlle's mind, hands grasping at her head as she can once again hear the hollowing of her brethren. Brethren she felt she did not know of. The howls call once again in their fond tempt at bringing her back. They want nothing more than to have her by their side in their reign of chaos. Chaos unfortold by the plain naked day and night. No, this would be different. When the eclipse arrives, she will..

No! I will not become another of those wretched, tormented souls! They have no heart in this. Their only comfort is slaughter to keep them alive. They know nothing when death appeals to them. Those worgens are by far just pawns of your distorted games. Mortals..that's what they were. Mortals that did not have a chance to survive in your game of life and death."

Skull-shattering wails disrupt her mind, the struggle of even fighting back with such force an amazement even to herself. Her eyes dialate in the shock that burns within her. The rekindled fire of the worgen curse brings her yet again into an invisible embrace, the hands holding her by the waist before touching her by the cheek, toying with her reactions. Her legs fall limp, bones crumbling to powder.

You will come back to us. Enjoy your calm while it's brief. The hunt will again begin, and the chase will folow soon after. The slaughter to fulfill the offering to Accalia. You must help us! It is the only way..

Silence becomes a torrent of mind flow, and the mistress collapses where she once stood right outside the portal stop near the Undercity. Her eyes fall blank, and she allows herself to fall into a least comfortable sleep.

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((Dyiana))

The mark had become mostly forgotten. A small reminder of a more tormented time that was now, thankfully, in the past. The fear and craze of finding those 'infected' and detaining them, and the murders that followed was gone as well, and for that... she was glad.

But it was also a reminder of her uselessness and inability to have kept harm from others, and making things worse by being one who could have spread it further than it all ready had gone. Her exile from Silvermoon, the welcomeness in other cities, her moments of succumbing to it and causing further harm...

And in it all, her guardian had said goodbye to venture into the Emerald Dream and said he would contact her if he had returned. She worried about it, but also wondered if he had ventured out and just simply... not told her. The old Tauren shaman would know, but she hadn't seen him either.

Shattrath was now her primary home, spending much of her time performing tasks and requests on behest of the refugees that made up much of the Lower City. Even despite the vagrancy and high population of thieves, she enjoyed her time here and soothing calm the entirety of this city had, thanks to A'dal.

But not even A'dal could keep the past from coming back to haunt those affected by it.

It started as an unusual pain in her hand, which she at first assumed was strain due to having to venture out to deal with the Arrakoa. Healing did nothing to quell it, and somehow... seemed to make it worse. She ventured into a far corner of the World's End Tavern before taking off the wrappings she kept on her hands and forearms, blue eyes going wide at the sight of the mark which had been reduced to only faded 'tattoo', but was now deep, dark, and pulsing with a glowing energy. She whimpered silently as the pain grew worse and was spreading up into the rest of her body, watching in confusion and fear as the borders around it split open and started to bleed profusely.

Hastily she rebound the wrappings, trying to stop the bleeding and hide it from the eyes of anyone else in the tavern, but distraught as she saw a couple of droplets had hit the floor. The pain grew worse, encompassing her entire right side, and making her movements more akin to a drunken stumble, adding more to the affect that it was all starting to make her lightheaded.

"...Miss?" The red-headed Sin'dorei barmaid blinked, looking over at Dy and at first assuming she had another drunk to deal with, but didn't remember serving her any alcohol. "Miss, are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine..." Dy leaned back against the wall, forcing herself to stand up straight, looking up and giving a strained smile to try and look like she had recovered. "Just a little tired... is all..."

The barmaid didn't believe it, but given her normal dealings at anytime of the day, wasn't interested in pursuing it. "Feel free to use a bed if you need to. I will add it onto your tab for later, then." She was about to wander off when she noticed the blood on the floor, blinking again in surprise, and then noticing the bloodied wraps that Dy hadn't fully hidden from her. A thought came to her mind on what exactly it meant, and she looked more annoyed than startled as she pulled out a rag from a pocket and bent over to wipe it up.

Dy noticed the barmaid's motions and, uncharacteristic of a priest, dove forward and pushed her out of the way. "No! Don't touch it!" She heard the angered yelling of the barmaid as well as commotion of people venturing over to see what was going on, but she kept her eyes downcasted as she used her wraps to wipe every trace of the blood off the floor, then hid them away again as she knelt there... a feeling of shame washing over her as well as the familiar 'blackness' as the pain spread throughout the rest of her body.

You are just prey.

She heard the barmaid yelling at her, probably to leave, but Dy just slumped forward as consciousness left her.

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Jazziks wandered still alone her brother was missing, only a pool of blood left on the floor. Something was not right, she was left afraid and alone again. She walked through the snow near the hot springs Azzura perched firmly on her shoulder. Jazz came near the hot spring and paused searching around the frozen winter scenery Azzura cried and flew up high to perch on a branch near by as steam shot from the springs.

The Ranger girl smirked at the bird and fell into the snow to land in a soft bed of white, she sighed and looked up to the sky, to the clouds. And then it happend. They swirled and flew the clouds came closer it seemed, her eyes narrowed and blinked but by that short time everything whited out. She stood and whistled for Azzura, nothing...not a feather. The void of white seemed to last endlessly until it seemed to crash and she fell down with a hard thud. Darkness now, darkness until she began to open her eyes. There was grass, she was laying in grass. Jazziks sat up and palmed her face rubbing her eyes looking around her. "I'm not in Winterspring anymore..." She stood and whistled ..nothing came. She looked over everything, "Eversong" she darted to head for the Ghostlands but there was none, Eversong seemed healed ...the way it use to be.

Jazziks smiled slightly and head back to Silvermoon, coming closer however it was not Silvermoon the way it is, it was....what it was, use to be. The girls eyes lite up as she stared in wonder and then to herself, she was younger. Back in time for some strange reason yet happy to be. Then she heard them, voices...Sinaku, her mother, her father, her...cousin. She looked to the lady cloaked in blue. They were all there in front of the city waving at her, they see me! She thought I am here, they see me as she bolted towards them eyes filled with tears "Mom, DAD! SYL..."....she ran faster and harder, she ran but didn't seem to make it any closer. They where still so far away, she ignored this and kept running and running until she fell from exhaustion crying and frustrating and mainly confused the Ranger girl in her young form laid crying like she often did.

"I can't reach you, I can't...I ..I've been trying...your going to die, all of you. Lets all leave together right now. They are coming!" She screamed crying out trying to reach them in some way. Her tears seemed endless until more then her eyes were soaked she found herself washed up on a shore covered in water and sand. She finally sobbed to a whisper "...I love you, all...".

"I must have died...in Winterspring, froze to death by now...this is all that there is now, torture." She thought coughing up water and sitting up still sobbing. "This is a twisted, twister nether I've gotten myself into now". She sobbed into her hands until she could hear singing and laughter of children, "Jazziks, come play". The voice called...it was Sinaku, Sinaku as a boy. "Play with us Jazzy". She looked up to see him a small boy and her friends all holding hands and some strange being she'd never seen before.

"GO AWAY demons, I do NOT deserve this..I am GOOD, I am a GOOD person!" She coward from the children and huddled. The children all laughed "silly, we just want to play, YES play!" They all broke out saying all accept the strange night elf looking one. Sinaku jumped closer, Jazziks flinched. Sinaku held out his hand, Jazziks recoiled. Yet did not. She blinked and stared in horror as a spirit like girl of herself took Sinaku's hand and join the creepy childrens circle. "Hey no! no! NO! I do NOT want to go with them I don't want to play anymore"! She tried reaching for herself be phased past it like it were a ghost. Defeated she laid their crying as the children skipped away "You'll...play, all of you". Their voices disappeared into laughter and the darkness came and then the light.

Barely breathing and partly covered in snow Jazziks opened her eyes to wiped the snowflakes from her face. She sat up quickly with a gasp looking over herself, there were frozen tears on her face. The falcon perched still on the tree looking curiously and worried at her. "A ..dream, a...nightmare, ...it ...was...or did I lose myself to something now."

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Stable bubbles sloshed through a gargantuan sized tube, and within it held the nurturing necessities of life, save for the needings for food, to contain the naked..corpse? of a Sin'dorei woman. Around it lies technical advancements hidden beyond Gnomish technology and from mankind of its time, perhaps forever more in solitude. Electrical currents follow many experimentations, each one seperated from the other..

Plated floors, stained with old age and times where failed specimens ended up in a bloodbath of its own slaughter, reflect with a dim light..

Figures, hidden from eye-view, public or secretively, pace with caution to and fro within this, or, -their- sanctuary, exotic robes of distinct designs following their very footsteps, dangling heavily over their beings, wearing only the distinct colors of starch white and ebon..

Around this spacious, scientific means of a building holds numerous cages. Cages that hold within them species and organisms not known to the outer world. Infact, they are not these kind of species at all. Instead, they are creations from fused beasts. Some even humanoids. However...

That is not what the eye sees. What the eye beholds is writhing, liquid boiling manifestations not known to mankind. Mutations that hold a flesh-peeling and acidic boiling of the blood. Their very skin bubbles abnormally, creating painful textures of hissing steam. Ichor floods from their nostrils, through the sockets that should have been given eyes, but were not.

A variety of items were churned into a mixture of such experimentations. Plucked and ravaged feathers lie painted against the floors, as well as scattered scales. Tar and other liquids lie in cylinder tubes on a table, each one labeled specifically for use. Petals decorate a box and the area around it, while blood lies in different tubes, taken from different things. Humanoids and beasts alike..and yet, they are combined into one thing. The purpose is unknown why they exist. Many are classified as failures, and still today they writhe in an endless pain.

All is silent, until the unnamed woman awakens within the biggest tube. The tension rises, and questionable expressions hidden underneath the heavy cloaks rise closer to this secretive experimentation. Her movements are sluggish, and her eyes are without emotion. Soulessly emerald irises holding whitened pupils trace the room, taking in its texture, distinguishing its shape, those that existed and still exist within it, but that's when her low, unnerving moans slipped through quivering lips, like a newborn taking their first breath outside of its mother's womb. Her frail, yet beautiful pallid figure lies completed within that tube, connected to something that resembles an IV. Many of them are wrapped carefully against her hand, just below her bosom and against her back. Her hair of pristine ebon flows just above her, swerving like the wiggling tentacles of a jellyfish, before embracing her bodice yet again.

The dream quickly turns into a nightmare, just as the conqueror becomes the conquered. These flashing images soar above the peaks of insanity. There he was, the unnamed figure, most likely the head of these foreign individuals, beginning to unravel his hidden identity..

But wait! What now? The image no longer continues. Instead, more grotesque images appear and disappear. A shower of sparks spray forth from the mutilated interior of a connection wiring within a computer gizmo from a mix of Gnomish technology and engineering. The sanctuary for alchemists and the needers of solitude becomes a demolished heap of nothingness, buried under thousands and thousands of years worth of the encrusted earth of Azeroth.

These beings no longer wandered the halls and corridors. Instead, only their experimentations and their failures still remained. Their hideous features were not just their only painful sight. Their very cries for death roared through the darkness of the non-existant laboratory, echoing to no one. Echoing to themselves. They cannot rest in peace. Time and time again they attempt self-infliction. Time and again they failed. They require an essence of emotion that they never were given. They were mere specimens and nothing more. The interior of the laboratory rumbles with friction of their pitiful fury. The stench of their staining blood corrodes through the floors, burning complete, smoldering holes through steel..

Still, one thing lies there, unable to take shape, pulsing with an evil like no other. Something worse than the demonics, something worse than possession. Its heart pounded rapidly outside of its decaying body, tendrils of bodily fluids glazing it with a leathery texture. Blood of its natural blue tint floods its encased prisonkeep, searing through the floors in clotted globs. The sickening stench, if one were to approach it, could most likely kill them with suffocation, and again it approaches closer to eyeview, a gaping mouth turned upside down, beastial eyes gleaming forth with pristine, black pools of an abyssal nothingness...

Giggles. Where were they coming from? Horrendously amused laughs echoes through her mind. Her frightful eyes scan everything around her, yet she finds herself alone with her own.."brethren." That's when she found herself face to face with children. Children that were not of this world, not what they are supposed to be. Apparitions..spectral, young things. There were eight. They reminded her of...of the fellowship against Sinaku, but there he was, with his sister, standing with Risticus and the others she could take into account for. This wasn't right. They were mere children!

That's when, out of the corner of her dialated eyes, she found hands taking hold of her own. They were no longer children. Infact, their entire shapes were something she couldn't quite distinguish with the naked eye. Something became different about them. Her blood ran beyond hypothermia as she heard the words she did not wish to hear in her head:

(Won't you come home? You belong here. Belong here with us. Come back. Don't wake, Mother. We don't want you to leave.)

"N-no..no.."

(Stop resisting. You aren't going to be getting anywhere.)

"..But..why...why do you do this?"

(Silence! You will again come to me when the time comes. Your blood as well as those cursed with the Mark of Prey will be needed for the offering. You will be one of the keys to letting me in. Enjoy your miserable life while you can, for these words will be one of the last things you will hear.)

Springing up at the speed of a stray bullet, a loud, suffocated gasp escapes her lips. Numbness is her only companion as she once again curls against the old, durtied stone floors of the Undercity. The dream struck her as rotten as decay. Arms leaning against the cold floors, she attempts to rise, only to find she can succeed as far as her upper torso. Her fears and paralysis of the deep sleep has left her legs weakened to the point she must drag them.

Her porcelain skin shines with beauty in the ever-lasting night, yet her eyes flare with a feral, uglied yellow. An illness lingers within her chest, her throat drying out what moisture was kept with it. Exotic locks of ebon nature cascades freely over her, only to have her appear as sickly as she felt. She lies there silently, unable to cry for help, much less feel anything, save the burning sensation that has returned on her hand, and the bile that continues to build up within her throat, ready to be released but seemingly stuck..

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She awoke in her own bed, drenched in sweat and frozen to the core, as she finally managed to kick off her blankets and sit up, clutching her hand. In the dimness of the hut, the mark glowed through her fingers, an awakened promise of what was to come. The girl stared at it in horror.

The link to Accalia had been broken... How could this be happening? Tassha was free of all that now... Even when the Eclipse came, Accalia wouldn't be strong enough to break out of Her prison... would She?

"No," she whispered, helplessly.

_____________________________________________

Tassha_sig.png

Tassha Rain Skybreeze

Former Ranger of the Dark Sun; Priestess in Training

"Forgive many things in others; nothing in yourself. "

A soft "aroo?" emenated from the foot of the elf's bed. A ghostly image of a white wolf, sitting on its haunches surrounded by the blankets, its head tilted inquizitavely to one side. Standing, it slowly paces the tent, look very comfortable, almost as if it belonged there, searching.

It's eyes settled on Thoraggar's set of yellow goggles, left hanging from the center pole when he left for Leoren's trial, a promise of his return. A quick jump knocked them off the nail on the center post, a few nips and a head shake managed to settle them around them around the apparition's neck.

One watching careful might have seen it nod at the frightened elf before sitting defiantly at the hut's entrance, staring out into the greater darkness as if daring it to intrud any further to the home.

A gruff, though disembodied voice whispered on the breeze working its way through the tent echoed her previous thoughts "There are no wolves in the Barrens."

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It was a lengthy day within the Booty Bay. Videlle recovered from the paralysis, but only to be thrown into a meeting with former allies that have come to merge under their cause in the Cartel. Refugees of the sort, they saught the Cartel's help to end the civil war between the seperate forces of the Templum. It was a long day, and the eve was coming right along. It was only when they seperated for the eve that the Cartel was unwillingly engaged in a three hour long battle against those of the Honor of Elune and the Butchers Brotherhood. Wether a small victory was won or not, there were losses and damage within the Goblin city. All that was known to Videlle was that they drove away the Honor of Elune towards the end, or so it seemed. That is when one of her newest members resumed a small conversation they had a few nights before, and that is when Rilthan began to question Videlle's conditions. Surely it must have been another illness, but it soon came to be that it was not.

He wanted to know, and he wasn't going to let it slide away this time. Videlle, however, ran, and continued to flee from his sight. The flee turned into a searching chase, though, for she could sense another pulsing, so great was it that it felt like a still-living heart being held in her own hand. The crimson heat swelled, burning a deeper, bloody red within the center of the seething darkness that was slowly building back over time. Having just been renewed, it was in a weakened state, but it remained drawn towards its counterparts. Dyiana was closest, just down the coastway alongside Elrioch among their settlement of Bloodsails.

Dagger against dagger, Videlle had slain atleast two to three Bloodsail henchmen. Beads of sweat dribbled from her forehead, her frigid beauty's features lit up from the White Lady's gracing light. Her eyes were darkening by the minute with the foul taint of anxiety. Dyiana..

Footsteps came charging after the trail of blood dripping and staining the purity of the white sands among the Wild Shore, located directly south from Booty Bay. Elrioch confronted Videlle, facing her with disbelief, even speaking disbelief that she had just slain a few of his men within a matter of minutes, perhaps even seconds at that. Dyiana anticipated a battle, but she realized that Videlle was not listening to Elrioch at all, let alone acknowledging his presence was questionable. The blade slipped through the Emissary's hand, almost cutting to the fingertips among the palm, while it punctured the sandy soils they stood upon. Videlle's intentions were not here to fight, she was here to attempt in proving her visions wrong.

Hesitantly she did call towards Dyiana,"Let me see your hand."

Dyiana refused at first, recoiling at the demanding request. Elrioch had already returned back to the camp, singing obnoxiously loud with many a jolly tune, allthewhile watching and making sure the peons were doing their work.

Videlle again called forth,"Let me see your hand! Please, I'm not here to hurt you, I must see if it is true."

Reluctantly, Dyiana heard her request forwardly, and untied the bandages upon her searing hand. Indeed that feint marking was imprinted upon her own palm, like a deadly poison ready to spread at any moment. Videlle almost forgot to breathe when she saw to it, and then her mind began to race with the thoughts that conjured the inevitable. They were going to be branded together again, those cursed with the Mark of Prey. Those cursed with the mark of the hunter will soon be doing the same. They were merely pawns of Accalia's little game. She wanted them to fight and cause bloodshed. She wanted their blood as well as those slain to be offered to her, to bring her from the Realm of the Twilight, where neither darkness nor light resides.

Videlle reached her unmarked hand forward, as her boots crushed the grainy soils beneath her, only to collapse the second after. That's when Rilthan jumped from the shadows, bewildered and moreover horrified. Bheephom, the wounded felbeast that always followed its mistress, whined and snarled with a berserk anger. The anguishing moment became intense. Dyiana and Rilthan almost came to a feud when the priestess ordered the Roguish one not to touch the mark. It would only bring him to his unwilling death, and it was not needed. Rilthan chose not to heed her words, only to be halted by a fangless nip from Bheephom. It tugged on his hand with a weak force, whimpering with a sound that almost made it seem like a helpless, lost pup.

Dyiana momentarily held a hand on the fallen warlock, the burning heat eminating from her unnaturally high, almost surpassing a legitimate feverish temperature. There wasn't much she could do except for soothe the mistress with what healing spells that could be surpressed and passed on through the weakened woman. Stepping away, she learned she couldn't leave to the Booty Bay; rather she suggested Rilthan take her back, seeing as he wore the emblem of the Cartel crew. Affiliations among the Goblins and the Bloodsail stood in the way of them going together.

((will continue the sum up after a while. I have a plan to offer to Elek and Dyiana oocly. This might involve the hunters, but for now I have thought of something for those cursed with the Mark of Prey. Hopefully we can get more people to join in on this rp since it will take place in the Lunar Festival. :D ))

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Kirai stepped from the boat and onto the docks of Ratchet, sighing softly. Things were definitely wearing here down. She was beginning to suspect something was wrong with the few Blood Knights that have gone missing and her lack of recollection of what she had done the prior night. She had decidedly removed herself from the loop for the most part, wanting to get away until she could better understand certain events. She had spent time in Stranglethorn Vale searching for Zan'gaji again, even though she knew that he work in the jungle had been over for some time... She so wanted to talk with him again...

With another heavy sigh, she strode down the docks cautiously. As usual, there was a small cluster of Alliance members at the port this evening. Being in enemy territory made them edgy normally and she didn't want to make any sudden movements to warrant an attack. She turned away from the group that consisted of a Kal'dorei, and two human men, muttering by the bank and walked toward the flight master, hearing the muttering stop as she passed by. She kept her cool and walking pace, the corners of her mouth tightening a bit. Soon she arrived right in front of the stunted little goblin who rented out the creatures of flight. He stared up at her suspiciously at her attire... but she couldn't really blame him- she was completely dressed in black, the hood of her cape cloaking her face in shadows.

She cleared her throat and lowered her hood so that he might see her face and spoke in a light and polite voice that might have surprised him.

"I'd like to buy a ride to Tanaris... please..."

The goblin stretched out his hand for payment and she dropped a small bag of coins into it. She glanced around while he counted out her payment with a greedy glint in his eyes, watching the group of alliance men out of the corner of her eye. She noticed, with relaxed nerves, that they seemed to be talking amongst themselves again. She felt something nudge her arm and she turned to see the wyvern that had been fetched for her. She smiled at the beast and patted its head gingerly before climbing atop its back, thanking the goblin before fastening her over-sized green goggles over her eyes. With a swat on the beast's bottom form the goblin, she was off, soaring through the night sky and southbound toward the desert.

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She hadn't been airborne for very long at all. As they soared over Northwatch Hold, she gazed down at it with a small smile before looking up, noticing a strange light up ahead. Flinching through her goggles, she stared at it... it was getting closer... and it was heading straight for her. She pulled a panicked face and tried to yank at the wyvern's hair to try and make it turn, but it would not budge from its trained course. She grunted frantically, trying to make the stupid beats turn or shift to the side... ANYTHING... but to no avail. She looked up again a split second before colliding with, she gasped in realization, what looked to be a ghostly figure of a little girl.

She leaned back, trying to avoid it herself, but at the last moment the transparent being collided with her and disappeared, taking Kirai with it. The wyvern flew on, not noticing a thing.

With a gasp, Kirai's eyes snapped open. She slowly sat up in what she realized was a warm, comfertable bed. She glanced around, her eyes flinching in what she thought might be sunlight pouring in from windows and door frames. Confused, she called out for her confidant, the little green mana whelpling who was always with her no matter what,

"Elliot?"

There was no answer.

"Elliot?"

Still no answer. Her eyes adjusted to the light and she took in her alarmingly familiar surroundings. She was back home... back in the bed that she had slept in as a child when her mother still lived and her days were happy... But why would she be here? This couldn't be real...

Slipping her feet over the side of the bed, she found that she was in the night gown she used to wear when she slept at home... And with a pang she remembered that it was what she wore the night her mother was slaughtered along with much of Silvermoon City... or did that ever really happen? She couldn't be too sure anymore... As her bare feet gingerly touched the floor she saw a figure appear in the door frame. With the sunlight shining behind it, the figure was shadowed and undistiguishable. As Kirai squinted, trying to see the person's face, she began to recognize this person's shape and form... She had it figured out before she ever heard its warm voice speak to her in that same loving tone that she had heard so long ago...

"Kirai..."

She swallowed a hard lump in her throat before stammering slightly,

"M...Mama...?"

The figure extended its arms, beckoning her into its embrace. She lurched forward a few steps before hesitating. Something didn't feel right.

"No... wait... you're dead. You can't be my mother." She glared suspiciously at the figure, clenching her fists as if preparing to attack this imposter. The figure then stepped forward away from the door until Kirai was able to see its face...

...And there she was. Still stunning. Still beautiful. Her fiery red hair was still tied back, freeing her face from any shadow so that anyone ever present could see her proud and bright smile... a smile that now and forever held such wisdom and power that Kirai had never been able to hold. Kirai felt her heart flutter in her chest and she stood still, staring at her mother for a long time. Ages seemed to pass in the little time they stood, staring at eachother.

"But..." Her mouth had gone dry, "You're... you're dead..."

"Oh Kirai..." Her mothers low and soothing voice seemed to warm every edge of her heart. "Have you been having nightmares again? Come here, love."

Kirai's lower lip quivered as her eyes began to glitter with tears. There was an aching feeling in her heart, as if an emptiness was beginning to swell and fill with what she had been missing. She dove forward into her mother's arms, tears now streaming from her face.

"Mama!" She cried out, feeling her mother's arms embrace her with a gentle strength that only a mother could possess. She wept in her mothers arms for a good long while, smiling, telling her how much she had missed her. How much she had longed to be held by her for so long. How much she had needed her by her side to guide her. To love her. Oh, how much she had missed her. She wiped her eyes with her arm and looked up with a smile at her mother's face- only to yelp in shock, barreling backwards with what she saw.

What used to be her mother's face... was gone. The creature still had every other aspect of her mother's body... but the face was empty... void of eyes nose and mouth. Kirai shuddered in rage and fear, clutching at her sides for her daggers, but found nothing. She snapped her head back up to face the face-less faker with a low growl.

"What are you...? WHO are you...?! Why have you brought me here?! Why were you pretending to be my mother, you sick... sonuva..."

The creature's poise seemed to crumble, it's hands stretching out to her beseechingly as if hurt by her words.

Kirai bared her hands in a claw-like fashion, slipping into a fighting stance,

"Don't you touch me!" She hissed, "Tell me why you brought me here!"

The figure crumpled pathetically and a wailing sound could be heard, echoing through the room. The creature was crying... though there was no mouth to emit the noise, it was being echoing around the two of them. Kirai twitched, unnerved by this change, and fought to keep her nerve and the glare upon her face.

"I j-just wanted you to be happy here with me..." The faceless figure wept. Kirai's expression remained unchanged, feeling a cold-ness in her heart that she hadn't felt before. It struck her as low as to play such a trick on her... she wouldn't forgive this faceless freak.

"Tell me how to get out of here." She stated in a low voice. The creature continued to weep pitifully. Growling, she stated her order once more with a snap. The creature then stopped wailing and stood fully, it's presence eerie.

It spoke in an unnerving voice of instructions. It told her to attend the Lunar Festival... The Festival... this would be where the final showdown against Accalia would be.

With a low growl and a glare as the world around her turned black, she hissed back in a flat voice at the faceless figure, watching it disappear.

"You bet I'll be there."

Another quick flash of light was emitted in the Barrens night sky, and Kirai was now free falling towards a mountain below, still unconscious... and a good thing too. It would have been terrifying for little Kirai to witness the earth fastly approaching her... to collide with such painful force that it may have shook the entire world... to feel her head smack against the rocky earth of the mountain she struck... to feel nearly every bone in her body break as she now laid in a crumpled, still heap... No, it was lucky that she hadn't been awake... but now she laid there, helpless and slowly dying without any hope of aid...

Soon she found her heavy eyelids lifting with effort, she heard voices around her, recognizing the both of them... but not able to pin names to them. It wouldn't be until later when she had realized what had happened. Her bones had now been set and healed for the most part by Naheal, and it was another fellow Cartel member who had found her first. Zoreal had taken her shortly after they returned to the port and wisked her away to Brill where he had given her slight relief to the concussion she had acquired from her little free-fall before leaving her with his questionable imp to watch over her.

She would be out for the most of the next couple days, only up and about when supported by others... Otherwise she slept, both haunted and comforted by dreams of her mother.

((Yay! I think that pretty much makes me caught up with what's happened to Kirai with the eclipse event so far! ^.^))

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The young priestess woke, finding herself laid out on a bed still inside the World's End Tavern in a cold sweat, shivering slightly despite the warmth of the air of Shattrath, knowing that her dreams had been terrible at best but unable to remember them. It was late, but the Tavern was still alive with activity, and through bleary eyes she saw the red-headed barmaid still working her shift by tending to the other beds just a few feet away.

Dy sat up, immediately regretting doing so as her head pounded in pain, and she realized the pain in her hand and across her body, while lessed, was still there. She looked to her right hand to check on the wrappings, slightly relieved that it seemed no one had touched them the entire time she had been out.

"Oh, you're awake." The barmaid looked over at Dy, still obviously annoyed, but keeping a civil tone. "Use of the bed will be 20 silver, unless you plan on staying longer."

A shake of her head, Dy downcasting her eyes to the floor, even as she stood up and dug through her pack for the requested money. "Ah... no. Thank you. I'm sorry about earlier, Miss..."

Nothing more than a nod from the barmaid, who resumed her duties and ignored Dy even as she offered her the money. With a sigh the priestess gave up on trying to apologize, figuring it best just to leave the other woman alone, and left the tavern after handing the money over to the barkeep. The city was dark, but hardly relaxing or quiet... and she was sure no one she knew was here. Peace and quiet would do her good, she knew... but the lingering forgotten nightmares still haunted her, and she longed not to be alone.

---

"Eh? What ye be doin' here lass? I'm a bit busy."

The Admiral eyed Dyiana with a curious gaze as he wandered over through the working and patrolling groups of his Bloodsail comrades. They muttered and glowered at her, but seeing that their Admiral didn't object to her presence, they kept to the business.

"Ah..." Dy blinked, wondering if she had come at a bad time and should leave, "No reason... I like coming down here, sometimes. It's quiet, usually." She smiled, knowing he wouldn't buy that, but it was partially the truth. There were many places on Azeroth she liked to retreat to, and this was one of them... whenever his comrades weren't too great in number.

"Aye, well mind yerself, lass. I got a shipment comin'." Elrioch smirked. He had nothing to fear of her running of and tattling on him to the Goblins, even if they did allow her passage into their city and on their ships. She was harmless to him, and tolerated by the Goblins only due to her never having caused them any trouble.

Dy nodded, keeping her distance from the working crew, enjoying the minor comfort of having some friendly company in the Admiral. Not much time passed or much was said before the calm was broken by the screams of a couple of crew, immediately getting Elrioch on edge and motioning for her to stay put while he went to investigate. Dyiana obediently stayed put for a minute or two, but worry and curiousity got the better of her as she made her way over to the edge of the cliff where Elrioch had gone...

The familiar figure of the female warlock startled the priestess, and filled her with a feeling of dread. The pain in her hand, as if on cue, flared up again, and became worse as Videlle seemingly sensed the mark and requested to see it. Dy shook her head in refusal at first, but gave in again and obediently showed it, keeping her eyes downcast as Elrioch lost interest with confronting Videlle and left the two, and Videlle's rogue guildmate, alone. The air grew tense, Videlle reached out as if drawn to the mark, and immediately collapsed. Dy attempted to help but was halted by the mistrusting rogue, as well as the now anxious and protective felhunter guardian.

She left the rogue to tend to Videlle, instructing him to take her back to the safety of the Cartel town, while she lingered among the Bloodsails, though not for much longer. More interruptions came in the form of a young and arrogant blood knight trainee who had taken up arms against the Bloodsail crew, then left to fetch his guild officer when Elrioch 'persuaded' him to leave. Dy kept quiet, speaking rarely and only when spoken to, no longer feeling the comfort she had come seeking, but considering it foolish that she had hoped to find it at all. She left the beach, traveling northwards to the settlement of Grom'Gol, though now finding it unappealing to spend more time in the jungles of Stranglethorn.

...Perhaps Silvermoon would be more welcoming.

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--Within Booty Bay--

It was a painful process, bringing the paralyzed woman back to Booty Bay. The evening rains were sinking into the Vale, the harbor city seemingly to loosen up with visitors and the inhabitants for the late evening. Instead of taking her to the Salty Sailor Tavern, he avoided too much interruption by heading towards another resting area, placing her upon a single bed offered by the goblin who seemed to admire Videlle's presence rather well when she wandered the wooden board planks. When Rilthan set her down as carefully as ever, he began to scan over her, acknowledging the beauty before him. He didn't know what to feel at that moment, the disdain from her sudden recoil those few nights ago, or to be breath-taken by the near perfection in front of his own two emerald eyes?

His heart almost jumped when he felt the potent pulse, an evil so strong that it lured him closer, grasping onto him so strongly it felt as if he'd rip in two from its enclosing void. Videlle's porcelain beauty shined, as if she were an elegant statue. Her skin, soft as touching cream, radiated with a vampiric nature. Her black locks embraced her like a lion's mane, her strangely sloped ears pinning back and drooping with untold emotion. Her frigid, full and bloody lips, kept a steady crease. The fragrance of rosary filtered the musty, rainy ozone. She was like venom to his eyes with such an illness, but he had to touch that hand, he had to clutch it, he felt compelled to hold it to unlock its mysteries, even if he did not want it, he..

And then he woke amongst a world where neither darkness nor light was allowed, yet he could feel his soul still linked to Azeroth. He could still feel the warming embrace of midnight, yet he could not see it. He could still smell the fragrance of nature, yet he could not feel it with his own touch. He could still taste life, yet he didn't feel as if he belonged. His bleached, spikey hair fell out of place with naturally tanned features. He was no longer beside Videlle. He was alone. Alone with a world that must not have life, sent back in time, but then his lengthy ears perked just as feline or a canine's would, when the sound of mugs clapped together within the distance, wonderful and lively voices singing to the skies. A lone light flashed down with the showering of festive fireworks, like the praise from birth of life from the very gods that created such lovely worlds. He soon begins to walk, his footsteps levitating from the very lush soils, leaving it untouched, as if they were sacred grounds..

The light is so pure..it feels as if he were standing right before one of the mighty dragon Aspects. Something about this place seems much like a sanctuary. However..the back of his hairs tingled and rose, as if they were attracted to static. That's when his heart plunged from the high rising spirits. The earthen soils rumbled as if it were an earthquake, the rising mist from the pounding rains giving way to blurred figures blazing by with the velocity of a speeding bullet, their presence so potent it felt as if the very soils would crumble and the world of Azeroth with it. He instinctively began to follow them, unsure of what they were, or why they were here in this beloved place, but he needed to figure out, to relieve his curiosity. That's when he spun around, coming face-to-face with a beast that stood around seven foot five as an estimate.

Its majestic white fur flailed like a rigid coat, bristled with aggression. Its features were more slender than a brute's, so he assumed it to be a female beast. Feral, amber eyes peered forth, beaming straight into his soul. Tufted ears pinned back, a blood-covered snout still bleeding with fresh wounds. Assorted accessories such as shells and pearls jingled and shrouded its entire figure with a mystical elegance, shredded cloth flowing from its waistline to the large, furry hind feet that lacerates the soils with its imprint. Claws punctured the grasses, ravaging them from their life. A wild mane covers its bosom, and cascades down its back with a brutal beauty with its pristine darkness. A tail flails among the rippling rainwaters, causing a shift in fallen leaves to collide with the torn petals of crushed floral. Its slender arms were built with toughened muscles to portray its lesser toned figure. Rilthan eyed it with an absolution that no words could explain what this apparition is. He wanted to feel its touch, he wanted to come closer, to befriend it, but he also knew its hostility. Something seemed very familiar about it, however..the hair, the elegant shape, the extraordinary accessories, and finally, a locket wrapped around the scruff of its neck. Razor inciscors protruded from the gaping maw of the creature, its hunger obvious. A rumbling vibrated from the very depths of its hollow nape, a snort of air released from its snout as it peers about cautiously. Claws at least seven to eight inches protruded from its furried hand, its fingers almost imitating a humanoid's. Its beastial nature was unnatural, and yet its beauty shined stronger.

He felt his heart beginning to sink, the foul taste of fear settling upon his tongue. He felt drained of existance. He wanted this to end, yet he had to find out what this was all about. What this mystery was beginning to unfold..

That's when his eyes, without a second thought, found themselves gazing to the creature's companions. He realized that she wasn't alone..

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