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Everything posted by Eleven

  1. "Oy wonder which lucky sucker gets t' keep me company fiiirst," Eleven sang as crew members moved to capture it. "But let's not be too hasty. I'll be speaking with the Admiral, remember? I don't answer t' you." It cackled and taunted the draenei as he walked away.
  2. Eleven twisted its head, wide eyes fixing on Rhysta. It briefly jumped back into reality, its expression relaxed. It pushed its jaw forward, sounding out words in a surprisingly calm but condescending manner. "Rose is dead. I am Eleven now." It rolled its head once before eyeing Cyllos and raising its nose at him. "I said parlay."
  3. The girl flailed at Cyllos in an attempt to escape, sputtering the same nonsense and calling for her master. Its neck was lined with very small holes, likely from constant prodding of needles, and there was a rune crudely etched into the back of its neck. If this were the Captain, it wasn't acting like her.
  4. Eleven flipped up its head and hissed at Cyllos. The dark circles under its eyes described a person that hadn't slept in two weeks. The smell of undeath surrounded the minion, but the lack of magic in its eyes and the way they stared right into Cyllos' showed the life in them. The dark and grime, fierce expression, and baring teeth made this person nearly unrecognizable for a second, but with a hard look Cyllos would know this person... ...the young Gilnean woman with the love of dogs.
  5. Eleven tried to slap away Cyllos, snarling out some gibberish before he was able to take hold of its saronite helm and remove it. Long, dark, maroon-tinted, matted hair fell in front of its dirty face. Despite the armor and looks, one could tell this person was alive. It hid its face and looked away, shaking violently. "Fff-friends no fff-hope no kshhh-kill! Master!"
  6. Eleven, trapped in the whirlwind, dropped its weapon and spun a few times, trying to gather its footing. As the winds blew out, it shook outs its dizzy head and raised its arms. "Parlay."
  7. Eleven only needed one look at Longdang's elemental before it decided to find cover in the chaos. As it stepped back, clutching its chest, ready to throw another smoke bomb, it felt the energy drawing away. Its lesser undead comrades began to fall one-by-one around it. It turned to see its master drawing in the power. The next few events happened in a slow-motion to Eleven, one which it could not control, until that moment of calm where the elemental held the dreadship in its grip. Without regard for the shaman or his elemental, Eleven dropped its long blade and moved to the edge of the ship
  8. Eleven rolled across the deck from the force of the knock-back, finally stopping and groaning a few yards away. It turned its head and stared at Longdang through the smoke as it cleared. The poison was working. While not enough to kill the meaty pandaren, it seemed to be enough to keep him down for a final blow. Eleven was determined, slowly pushing itself to its knees then up to its feet. It hunched over and staggered forward, still clutching its chest. Its free hand felt around its legs before reaching over pulling the larger blade from its back. It didn't reply, only basked.
  9. Eleven circled around. It knew that the shaman could too easily recover from any minor wound it dealt. The situation called for a different approach. The dagger that gleamed through the smoke was coated in a poison - one that would enter his system even if Longdang could close his wounds. Eleven leapt towards him and thrust its dagger in hopes it would sink into his flesh. It took a risk; the poison wouldn't set in before he could counter.
  10. Eleven raised its arms to block its face from Longdang's lightning, but it didn't help against the shock. The armor on its arms was scorched on impact, then the creature froze in place. Ripples of electricity coursed through its body, the effect multiplied by the metal in Eleven's mail armor. It tensed up to the point of losing the ability to move for the second. The lightning left as quickly as it came. Once free to move again, Eleven was sluggish. It held a hand to its chest and growled at Longdang. Its other hand threw down a smoke bomb as it attempted to Shadowstep behind the shaman, but
  11. Eleven rose from behind one of the massive harpoons on the upper deck as lightning shattered undead around it. It leaned over the contraption then threw its weight back, yanking the lever. The large chained hunk of saronite launched through the air and pierced another hole into the hull of the ship across the way. A whistle later, groups of undead were cranking the chains back. Eleven climbed atop the harpoon until they were taught, eyeing the cause of the lighting. The Redblades would feel the ship aching and moving again. The gap between the two was closing - close enough to soon board. If
  12. Eleven stood, arms crossed, near the harpoon that dragged in the enemy ship. Upon seeing the red sails punch through the thick fog, it knelt behind the rail at the edge of the dreadship among the others. It examined the ship from between the bars it grasped. There was no surprise the Redblades decided to come even despite its warning. Eleven contemplated each person on the other ship. They have all turned against you. It clawed the bars when its eye caught the former captain. She was here, but the Admiral? Then, there was the elf in the lifeboat. Eleven leaned closer and squinted. None of th
  13. The mail armored minion was hovering over one of the other workers near the cannons. It raised its head as it heard the command and turned around to glare through its helm at the man swinging from the mast. With little hesitation in a show of agility, Eleven took hold of a nearby ratline and climbed its way up. Its feet hooked onto the intertwining ropes as it crawled along the net with ease. It grew excited - a spider that had captured something in its web. When it was finally in reach of the captive, it playfully pushed him with its gloved hand, causing the man to swing and spin. The chains
  14. Redblade Admiral Tuuroto, In a recent affront against my lord, two of your captains have attempted an invasion of his privacy. As such, they have been punished. My master is not one to hide, so if you still wish to instigate, his ship will be waiting off the northern coast of Icecrown. Eleven
  15. A pop and hiss was heard coming from the top of the stairs inside. Guards waved and coughed as they tried to see through the smoke bomb. Eleven was attempting to stall them long enough for Altherion to summon his gate. It did its best to not be seen and payed little mind to the worgen so close to its master. It knew by the red staining his fur that he shouldn't and wouldn't give reason to stick around either.
  16. Eleven bowed its head as its master scolded. It underestimated the mage, but promised to not let it happen again. As the worgen entered, Eleven picked up its second dagger ready to attack. It glared from behind Altherion, not liking this bloody weirdo questioning him and hoping to teach a lesson. But upon receiving orders, it stuck both daggers into the chest of the goblin and stealthed.
  17. Eleven growled at Lixxel's disappointing reaction. The hand that pulled her hair gave another hard yank before letting go and digging into her shoulder. It tightened its grip on one of the daggers, dropping the other to the floor. "Yes, Lord." It pulled the goblin towards it while thrusting its dagger out. There was a little force resistance as it entered her flesh, but the minion leaned forward and sunk the blade into the her stomach. Eleven slowly rose from its squatting position, blade unyielding, to rip the wound upward. It finally grabbed its dagger with both hands and slashed upward bef
  18. Eleven pushed forward, sprinting toward Lixxel. It stepped onto the balcony and stood over the little goblin that knelt before it, taking in the feeling of dominance for once. Squatting down, It tried to yank Lixxel's hair back to tilt her head up to look eye to eye. The goblin's face and neck still bled from the cuts. Eleven's other arm rested on its knee, playing with the daggers. It wondered how she and Altherion seemed to know each other. In the next moment, it prepared for Lixxel to attempt another escape or attack, though begging would be nice too.
  19. Eleven raised its arms to shield its face from the winter. Its armor was made to help protect against the cold, but even then the bite of winds seeped into the openings and chilled its bones. The minion was trained to not show fear, even against its master. It continued its search through its arms, ignoring the death of the commoner. A thump came from outside and it made eye contact with the now visible goblin. "Found you." It stepped toward her, then began to run, but the winter hindered its range of motion with each step. Eleven switched both daggers to one hand and made it within a few fee
  20. From the goblin's sudden disappearance, Eleven's arms swung around itself as it stumbled forward. Angered, it jumped up and reached for a second dagger with its left hand. Normal mages couldn't possibly teleport very far that quickly, especially under pressure. Altherion's minion spun in a circle to search the room, refusing to look at its master. He would be unimpressed, it thought, if it chose to balk at him rather than continuing the order. The situation would escalate undesirably if Lixxel were to warn the guards, so time was of the essence. "Little goblin," it sang, "don't run."
  21. Eleven knelt behind the goblin. It pinched her nose and held its bloody left hand tight to her mouth to stop her from breathing, thus keeping her from making noise. It tilted her head back, pressing it against its helm. Close enough to feel its breath, Lixxel could probably hear it repeating the whispers that ran through its head. Hope is an illusion. Eleven ran the dagger across her cheek then pricked her neck, drawing more blood onto the blade. Make it slow, the master says. It began to gently pull the sharp metal around the goblin's face and neck, cutting up her features.
  22. Before the goblin could scream, Eleven appeared from the shadows and cupped a hand over her mouth, holding its blood-dripping dagger to her throat as well. "What's a lone goblin doing in an Alliance town?" It swung them both around and looked down the stairs. Nobody else seemed to follow at this moment. It tried to pull them back around a corner.
  23. A figure wearing blue black mail and a helm covering its face sat atop the chimney. It seemed to have been waiting on something or someone. It held a rifle at the ready. It tilted its head as Jitters arrived, pointing the gun and leaning over to look through the scope at him. It relaxed, whispering. "Jitters."
  24. There were a few commands there, but the latter seemed urgent. Eleven bowed to its master and vanished. Sailors?
  25. Altherion's minion looked back to the sleeping guests. They lied helpless, likely having passed out only hours ago from a long night. It squatted, one gloved hand holding the bars of the banister, the other reaching for a dagger sheathed against its right calf. It approached the man it first saw. He was lying face down on top of the blankets. One leg hung off the side. Eleven stood over him with the dagger in hand. It leaned over the bed and in a swift motion, reached under and sliced through his throat. The sheets stained red, but the dagger dug deep and fast enough that the man was unable t