Divided Loyalties Part 3

As the clouds broke beneath me I could just make out my destination in the distance. Ravenholdt Manor's roof top reflected the evening sunlight. My griffin's wings beat in a laborious rhythm against the prevailing winds. The oppressive weight of the gemstones I was to deliver to Wrathion seemed as much a physical burden to my mount as they were a mental agony to me.  Seldom had I so anticipated the completion of a contracted as I did this one. With a stumbling lurch the poor beast landed in the well guarded courtyard. Once my identity was confirmed by one of the guards, I swiftly removed the heavy saddlebags. With a pat and a word of praise for a job well done I turned on my heel and I headed into the manor.

Wrathion and Fahrad seemed not to have moved much since my last visit.  Positioned at either end of a large table covered with maps and dispatches they were consumed with their quest to discover every last member of the Black Dragonflight. My rude deposit of the saddle bags into the middle of their contemplation gained me their rapid attention.

"Ah! Do you see how they shimmer?" Wrathion asked after dumping some of the shadowy gemstones out into his hand. "Many fine gems sparkle in the light, but only these seem to sparkle with darkness." The look on the boy's face didn't seemed more thoughtful than entranced. "I'll preform an enchantment on these while your on your next mission." So Kaitou had been correct in his assessment, Wrathion was going to do something to those gemstones or at least turn them to his purpose. "Are you ready? The gems you collected will be able to augment the power of the weapons I gave you, but I require another ingredient. It will come from your next target."

A snort from Fahrad drew both of our attention. "We've located her here, in the caverns beneath Karazhan." Pointing at the top most map in the middle of the table Fahrad continued. "Fearful for her life, she is researching arcane secrets buried beneath the foundation."

Wrathion then took up the narrative. "Her name is 'Nalice'." I gave a start of  recognition and then Wrathion confirmed my suspicions. "And until recently she stood at Wyrmrest Temple as a representative of the Black Dragonflight." But just before the Cataclysm she had disappeared, no one had known why. Then the destruction of the Sanctums...the death of Korialstrasz and all the hatchings. "Now? She's on the run." This I hadn't suspected. A target I KNEW, my mind raced with the possibilities. Fahrad's voice drew my attention back.

"She's surrounded herself with a small army of deranged dragon cultist." Fahrad continued with his debriefing. "They may not be right in the head, but they're well-armed. And dangerous." With a shrug Fahrad rolled up the map and reconnaissance notes before handing them over to me.  I could tell nothing from his expression how he felt though his tone as he discussed Nalice was both dismissive and mocking.

Wrathion once more took control of the conversation. "Your primary mission is to destroy her, but if you can bring me back a vial of her blood, I'll be able to use it to augment the power of the daggers I've given you.  Your accomplice Zazzo has already been dispatched to the scene and awaits you there. He'll have more details." Oh lovely my gnomish babysitter was going to be there to hyperventilate in my ear again. Just what I needed. At least this time I was going somewhere I was familiar.

"I hope to see you back from this mission alive." Wrathion's tone seemed almost a dare. "But if I do not, I want to say I have enjoyed seeing you work. You're a credit to your race." With a wave he dismissed me. "Good luck." I glanced at Fahrad's face but it remained an impassive mask as he observed his prince once more consumed with the gems I had delivered.

The journey to Karazhan was uneventful. I good nights rest in Darkshire's inn before the final leg resulted in me arriving well rested. Zazzo was his spastic best when I arrived and while I was fresh and rested, he was looking a little frazzled.

"Madness. Insanity!" Zazzo jumped up and down with agitation. "I don't know what Nalice is doing down there, but the entire basement radiates with diabolical arcane energy. She's got an entire cult worshiping her as a goddess."  Wring his hands the gnome mage gestured to the greatly altered Karazhan landscape. The ghosts of the past that had previously haunted Karazhan had been exorcised and now its streets were filled with Dragonkin and cultists. However as Fahrad had insinuated they were not very bright.  Patrols only graced the center streets and buildings. Like a fly buzzing my ear Zazzo's voice penetrated my mussing once more. "If we're going to take her out, we have to do it soon. I hope your ready for this."

I simply nodded before slipping into the shadow. Nalice's henchmen were nothing compared to Creed's Worgen. They were preoccupied with the some strange devices which seemed to be collecting the stray arcane energy that surrounded Karazhan. Even better I KNEW this place, had walked its shattered pathways many times before. It was a breeze to slip along the outskirts of the village and around to the cellar's entrance.  The only true start I had was when one of Karazhan's former residents decided to make an appearance, however she seemed to feel that I was not worth her notice, merely drifting on after staring at me for a few moments.

Nalice herself was holed up in the deepest part of what had once been the Master's Cellar, the extended storage catacombs beneath the keep.  The particular area she was using actually contained a a well I knew the Violet Eye had noted for its arcane energy. So consumed was she with her arcane studies she didn't even notice me until I garroted her human throat.

"An Assassin! Did the little whelpling send you after me? Come rogue. Let's dance."  Eyes blazing Nalice went after me with everything she had, and as a dragon her her skills were immense. "I've got some secretes of my own, rogue." She taunted as she suddenly became invulnerable to my attacks putting a shield around herself and throwing arcane landmines across the floor. However it was simple to see that these generated not from herself but from devices she had manufactured, not unlike the ones her cultists had been working on. Quickly disenageing them made her vulnerable once more. "I...I need more time!"

Nalice's eyes darted around the room seeking assistance but her lackeys were far away, she like many others of her kind preferred to plan alone and it would be her undoing.  Wounds riddled both of our bodies but it was clear that Nalice was in worse condition than I.  "This isn't how it ends. Not for me. I'm a survivor." I almost felt pity for her. She was right. She had been survivor. She was running from her own flight, from the rest of the dragons, but what kind of life would she have had? Hiding out in the cellars of Karazhan? Pretending to be a goddess? Madness was only a breath away, ending her life was a mercy. With a final thrust my dagger hit home.  With a shutter I felt Nalice's life begin to slip away. With a shimmer she lost control over her human form, I leapt back not to be crushed by her draconic weight. "You cling to a shattered world..." she groaned "Your time comes....Soon enough..."

It took me a moment to locate a vial to gather some of the pooling blood.  It seemed that no sooner was it in my possession and corked than I felt Zazzo's presence once more."Nalice. Dead?" I gave a tired affirmative then felt the pull of a arcane teleport.

"You did it? She's dead? Unbelievable! You're some kind of miracle worker!" Zazzo seemed to leap around me as I collapsed on the ground before him. His superfluous praise making me a tad uncomfortable. I was just doing my job. "Here, give me that blood. I can perserve its energies in an arcane matrix for your trip back." Gingerly handing him the vial of blood, the mute testament to my accomplishment I watched with bemusement as he waved his hands around muttering over it.

Once he finishes he hands it back to me as if the vial contains something toxic. "Done! You'll want to get this back to Wrathion as soon as possible, along with those two daggers of yours." Wiping his hands together he continued. "I don't know what he plans to do with this stuff." Zazzo adds with a shrug.  "Between you and me, sometimes that little dragon kid creeps me out. Good Luck!" His duty to me completed Zazzo gave a relieved sigh then ported himself out of there.

By this time I had recovered enough to drag my own sorry carcass up and make my way back to Ravenholdt. Fahrad and Wrathion still circle their table, contemplating their next target, however at my entrance they both look up.

"Ah, you've returned! I no longer sense Nalice's presence. Is she dead? Or has she somehow eluded us both?" Wrathion watched me with glittering eyes as I pulled out the vial of blood and listens intently as I give them both a brief discribtion of what transpired in Karazhan's cellar. "Incredible! Few assassins would be clever enough to infiltrate Nalice's wards and use her own magic against her." Wrathion crowed his face wreathed in smiles.

"She allowed herself to be defeated." Fahrad interrupted bitterly. "The others will not be so weak."

"Perhaps." Wrathion conceded. "For that reason, we will need to gather more supplies....But first." Wrathion motions for me to hand him the vial of blood and my daggers, his face is a mask of equal parts reverence and revulsion.  Part of the blood he pours into a rune covered bowl that Fahrad hands him into which he drops the gems I collected one-by-one, muttering an incantation. The bowl fares with smoke and light. Then Wrathion reaches in removing the gems which he then places at equal intervals along the daggers.  Without warning he takes the remaining blood and pours it over the blades of the daggers, and the steel seems to writhe and twist as though a living thing. When the smoke clears, the shape of the daggers has changed and now they literally wink at me.

What have I gotten myself into.

To be continued....

Divided Loyalties Part 2

Unreasonable anxiety griped me once again, closing my throat with panic. Grimly I clamped it down, doggedly pushing on. Unconsciously my hand crept up towards my shoulder pouch. When I realized I jerked it back to my side. Time was running out and I needed help fast.

At the end of the small court yard in the central of Old Town sat a stack of crates and two large barrels. I gave the area a quick survey before slipping behind them. Deep in the shadows I could just make out a large grate. With a tug it came up on invisible hinges exposing well worn steps.  Balancing the grate on my shoulder I gave one last scan before descending into the fabled tunnels of Stormwind.  Officially they were created to allow workers to clean and maintain the city's canals and sewer systems. Unofficially they were the underground highway of smuggled goods, information and home to many of the few true native residents in this port city full of immigrants.


Light filtered down through the quartz bricks hidden along the canals, within the planter boxes, and bridges casting murky shadows along the generous walkway of the tunnels. My nostrils are filled with the damp and musty smell of algae and salt rather than sewage and rot.  I give my eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom before heading off once more. Mentally I counted passage and doorways before coming to a stop before a unassuming, yet battered portal. Positioning myself in a beam I tapped a rhythmic pattern on the door, then waited.

I hear rather than see a spy slot open, shortly followed by the sound of a voice cursing, then a bolt sliding away. A hand shoots out, warm fingers grip my icy wrist and I am momentarily thrown off balance as I find myself pulled into the shadowed room. The reenforced door closing with a clang almost on my heels.


"What are you doing here?" Kaitou questioned almost savagely, rapidly taking in my rather altered appearance. "You look like something your cat drag in. How did you find me?" As he peppered me with questions Kaitou pushed me towards a seat and began opening up lanterns about the room. I took the opportunity to inspect his haven. Compact, the room was dry, and scrupulously clean. Packed crates were stacked along the back wall forming stepping cubies leading to a sleeping loft. Each crate was neatly divided by item, cloth, flasks, bundles of leather precariously rolled were stuffed in the bottomed rows, while bags of what appeared to be gem stones and jewel crafting supplies filled those closer to face level. In the middle of the room was a table with two chairs. On the walls hung weapons of various types, daggers, axes, maces and swords, all in excellent repair. To the left was a large square trunk covered with folded stacks of clothing. Beyond that another door which appeared to lead to a small water closet.

Kaitou himself was as usual impeccably dressed. He seemed to have a flare for the dramatic. Oh not that he would stand out if he didn't want to, but rather that he was a firm believer in form AND function. Hence yes, a ruby ear ring to go with his red tipped uniform and each piece pressed, polished, and coordinating to perfection. His hair pulled back with a nonchalance that took time to create and others would never be able to do with quite as much panache. I couldn't help but grin. Kaitou just always made me smile. I on the other hand as he so eloquently stated looked like something my tabby cat had gifted me with.  An eye patch covered a new head wound from my most recent trip to Northrend, my skin was unnaturally pale and the usual injures acquired during prolonged campaigning were not healing as quickly as they had in the past. I didn't think it was just age anymore. That was why I was here to see Kaitou.

"As to how I found you blame Sharky. I pulled rank and favors so he ratted you out."  At Kaitou's thunderous expression I could feel my grin grow. Sharky, a young, up and coming officer had started out as a street rat just like Kaitou, in fact the two were very good friends from those days and it was due to Sharky that Kaitou had come to my attention in the first place. But Sharky had found his calling within the church becoming a priest and gaining new loyalties where Kaitou still walked the solo of code of the streets.  "Kai, Sharky thought you might be my only hope for an answer."

I could see the quickly suppressed surprise. "I need you to look at some gems for me." I pressed on seeing the disbelief.


"Why do you want me to check out gems when you are partnered to a perfectly good jewel smith?" Kaitou questioned motioning me to take a seat at the table disbelief evident in his tone.
 
"I had Therigwin look at them, and give me his opinion. However this is about more than your skill as a crafter Kai." I  observed the younger man through narrowed eyes yet again. I was trusting my instincts in this. I so needed an unbiased opinion, hopefully Kaitou would be able to give it to me.  Reaching into my shoulder pouch I removed a small leather purse, pulled the draw string and pored its contents out onto the table's surface.


"They look like Shadow Crystals." Kaitou commented pulling his Jeweler's Ruby Monocle out and affixing it to his eye before picking up one of the gems for closer inspection. I couldn't help but smile at the fact that even the tools of his trade coordinated with his outfit.

"Yes, they do, but watch this." Getting up I moved about the room once more shielding all the lights. The gems on the table now glittered like stars reflecting on the ocean's surface. I heard Kaitou's hissed breath. Together we relit the room in silence. "So what do you think?" I finally asked.

Kaitou spoke tentatively in response. "Gems and Metals are very different things. Metals are easily altered, mixing in other elements or metals to strengthen it. Gems in general are natural formations, it is how you cut and shape them that you make use of their best qualities. The only thing I have seen that reacted like that in the dark was Saronite, but that was green not purple and a metal." Shrugging he continued. "Why ask me and where did you find them?"

I felt myself shiver at his words, Sharky had been correct with his encouragement in sending me to Kaitou. "Bear with me while I try to explain this ok? You know I'm a scribe right? Well, most scribes are nothing more than really good copiest. A lot of them are artists that can't even read. I on the other hand can read in a number of languages and have a photographic memory which means that once I have read something I never forget it. Alright, now in addition to this I have always been considered somewhat...sensitive? I guess that is the term, to certain types of mind games. Back even before we were working in Karazan there was a shadow priest by the name of Orodrith, a mentor of Sharky, he use to love to play games with me by looking through my eyes whenever I was out scouting. I got to being really hyper aware when people were doing things like that. Then we got to Northrend and encountered the Faceless ones and Yogg-Saron."

I took a deep breath, before continuing. "I noticed something while we were campaigning in Northrend, the more our metal wearers began using the Saronite in their armor and weapons the more reckless and aggressive their behavior became.  At the time we all just thought it was due to the prolonged campaign. I mean we had been in Outland, thought we were coming home only to have to ship out again to go to Northrend. Then I discovered something while transcribing something for the Death Knights and Paladins of the Ashen Verdict. They believed that Saronite was actually created from the pressurized blood of Yogg-Saron."

"Ok, what does this have to do with these gems?" Absently Kaitou was playing with the jewels, running them along his knuckles making them dance, or dropping them through his fingers, seemingly mesmerized by the twinkling darkness of their depths.

"I got each of these in Northrend off of high ranking servants of Deathwing." I saw Kaitou start at the information, his gaze jerking off the gems to my face once more. "They were in caches of no more than seven, usually three to five." Once more I took a deep breath before continuing. "Now I have a question for you. How do they make YOU feel?" I sat back and waited for the answer. I had been watching him as he had absently fondled the gems, but my words had stilled his hands.

"What do you mean?" Kaitou stared at me.

"As you hold them, touch them...What are you thinking, feeling. Do they affect you at all?" I watched him. Praying that he felt it too. That I wasn't going crazy. That it wasn't just to much campaigning and not enough sleep.

"Power." The word seemed dragged out from him. "Your right there is a sense of power about them. I didn't even notice until you asked, it is like a caress on the brain, the stroke of a lover. Sucking you in." His hands jerked away from the gems. "How many of them are there?"

"Three Hundred and Thirty Three." I signed. "That is how many I was contracted to get and the more I collected the more unstable I feel. When I spoke to my spouse about it, he didn't feel it, but then he is also a Blacksmith and worked with so much Saronite while we were in Northrend he wasn't sure what I was asking. He is also a Paladin and the Light is so strong in him that may have something to do with it to." I shrugged " I thought I was going crazy when I talked to Sharky, so he suggested I talk to you. He thought maybe you would be able to give me an unbiased opinion since your tour in Northrend was significantly shorter and he felt you and I were more...alike?" Again I couldn't help but show my own confusion.

"What are they doing to you?" Kaitou asked concern flavoring his words.

"They seem to augment whatever I am feeling." I replied. "If I am anxious it is magnified, confident, I become almost arrogantly so. The only thing that helps is that I'm aware but I feel I am over compensating. My question for you is this, my contract wants these gems supposedly for weapons for me: If I am reacting so negatively to them now, what I am I going to do in the future? Apparently I HAVE to have these weapons to complete my contract." Even I could hear the anxiety in my voice.

Kaitou considered the question, his eyes on the gems glittering across the table top. One arm now pined across his chest, his other hand thoughtfully stroking his bearded chin. "I mentioned that gems are generally natural formations, well Alchemists can also create them, though they use other gems to do it. What you may be dealing with here are Shadow Crystals that came directly from rich Saronite deposits and were then refined either with magic or alchemy. If your contract is who I suspect, one of the immortals they should be able to counter or at least know how to counter anything that is in these gems." Shrugging Kaitou gingerly tucked all the gems back into the leather purse, tying it closed before tossing it into my lap.  "My advice is to get those to your contact as quickly as possible." His expression grim.

"That is my next stop." I stuffed the purse back into my shoulder pouch. "I kept the rest of the gems in the bank to try and reduce the impact. Kai?" I stared at the younger man feeling the rising tension with the return of the gems to my person. "I need you to be my back up in this. You don't have the personal involvement that most of the others in this company have, that is why I came to you. If I become a problem, you need to take me out. Understood?"  The shock was evident. How many others contract their own assassination? It would almost be funny if I wasn't so terrified. I watched Kaitou take it in, then grim faced nod. Where ever this lead, I knew that those I loved would ultimately be safe, even if the danger ended up being me.

To be continued...

Divided Loyalties

Jobs for immortals are seldom favorites. Things just seem to get complicated. It was so simple at the on set and something I'd enjoy doing anyway, snatch a decoder ring from a pocket? Child's play! Leave it to dragons to underestimate their opponents or to fail to understand the allegiances of their hirelings.  Who knew my loyalties would so quickly come under question? Not by the individuals who originally hired me but by myself? 

The cipher I was given to decode was of a type I had never seen before as a scribe, but that wasn't really a problem. One thing I had discovered over the years was to build contacts and the Ethereal's would do just about anything for the right price. Thankfully a group had recently set up shop near the canals in Stormwind, saving me the cost of a trip to Outland.  I just needed to patiently await a translation, considering the condition of the sample wasn't the greatest. Not a surprise since dragons tend to roast first, ask questions later.

I admit I wasn't shocked to see Ravenholdt's name. The manor was once the home of a certain Lord Daval Prestor so ties with the Black Dragon flight were nothing new.  The question was who had brokered this deal, my uncle Jorach? He had grown rather reclusive.  Or was my cousin Fahrad finally stepping up and taking a more active role?  It had been a long time since I had made a trip back to my birth place, and this certainly was not the way I expected to do it. What I found interesting was the fact that the Red Dragon flight seemed completely oblivious to the ties the Blacks have to humans...were they blind? However if they weren't asking I wasn't going to volunteer information.

My traveling companion did not help matters. Why employ me to do a job and then dictate how I do it?  Even worse to stand there and insult your employee TO THEIR FACE! Thieves? Bandits?  I am a professional Thank you very much! Your Allies could have told you that Ravenholdt was more than a simple motley band hiding in Hillsbrad if you'd lowered yourselves to ask. The very fact that they spirited away your precious egg should have displayed that to you. But no, rather than ASK anyone you bumble around make grand announcements about torching places. We petty "short lifers" know more about your precious egg than you realize.

What self respecting rogue enters from the FRONT? Even the Tauren Chieftains know we do everything "from behind"! My irritation was making it difficult to concentrate. If it had been left to me I would have entered the Manor via the narrow ravine between the Hinterlands and Hillsbrad rather than attempt to go in via the well guarded front tunnel. However Mostrasz made it clear he was "guiding" this show...what did he know about how to do my job? Nothing it would soon transpire.

As soon as I entered my former bedroom dormer it was clear things were not going to go as Mostrasz planed. The smell of sulfur permeated the air. Now while Zan's engineering projects occasionally backfired and caused smoke, he worked in the basement for a reason. To keep his smells contained. The only way for the entire manor to reek like it did was if one of two things had occurred: the egg either had been destroyed or hatched. Dragon eggs are not like bird eggs, when they hatch they explode, jettisoning fire every where. That would mean for safety sake the egg would have to have been housed in Zan's steel and stone workshop.

Slipping down the stairs revealed a quiet and orderly interior. Members of the household were still very much on guard which lead me to the conclusion there must be something they felt they had to protect. It was nothing to time a silent drop to the cellar stairs, Mostrasz mutters buzzing in my head, there my suspicions were confirmed. The egg remnants were scatters across the floor, it had indeed hatched, but where was its former occupant?

That question was quickly answered by Prince Wrathion himself, with a style is uniquely his. Yes, he certainly is a Black Dragon, yet he reminds me a little of the Tolvar. I was shocked to discover rather than a welpling he was closer to the size of Prince Anduin. The kid payed attention while in that egg of his. He knows what is at stake both for the world and for him personally but refuses to be nothing more than a dagger in another's hand. HE will control his fate, if he is to be his father's heir then he will take up the reins NOW.  Rather a different approach than that of another Prince I know.

I admit I was rather pleased with Fahrad's dealing with Mostrasz...for a dragon he was arrogant and whiny...a strange combination.  But then there are are not a great many dragons I have actually liked truth be told. Respected yes, as powerful beings, but actually LIKED on a personal level? Not so much. Prince Wrathion may end up one of the few. The kid has something...Guts for sure. He certainly has won over Fahrad, though I am sure the idea of being able to do something besides hanging around the manor keeping up the business for my Uncle doesn't hurt.

The problem with Dragons, Black dragons especially is that they can be so blasted CHARMING....and this one is a KID. It is like some kind of hard luck story come to life, certainly the type to grab a rogue's attention. Jobs like this make my fingers itch. An employer who offers you a job that is a true CHALLENGE? One that respects your skills enough to not dictate HOW you should achieve the goal only that you do? Oh yum...Even better when he rewards you with things you can actually USE, rather than junk.  Sure he gave me a trigger happy baby sitter but hey, I can live with that.

Kaitou gave me a rather knowing look when I asked him if he had any updated maps of Gilneas.  The two of us were soon talking routes with him favoring a land assault and I preferring heading in via the water.  The information we had on Creed was sketchy at best. I could only hope Wrathion's man Zazzo had more updated reconnaissance.

Zazzo was about what I expected from a gnome mage. High strung, timid and not overly fond of rogues....however when he blithely informed me that I was the 12th assassin sent to take out Creed I was also sure that he has issues with counting, by this time I am sure the number is MUCH higher.

Gilneas was miserable. Overcast, rainy, with a pervading gloom. One would think I would love all the cover but this was a city of "dogs" and I don't mean the Worgen. Even before the curse the Gilnean's were know for their Mastiff hunters and I have seen how since the curse their sensitivity had become heightened.  Slipping into this highly patrolled ruin would not be easy. After doing a little bit of scouting I decide on the water route, swimming in along the docks, then slipping up the stairs, jumping down into the canal, before making my way across the inner courtyard to a tower close to Creed. There I stopped to dry off, eat and observe my target.

The court yard where Creed was presiding still bore evidence of Gilneas' internal struggles. Stocks, guillotines, hitching posts as well as decaying corpses litter the area. In my mind's eye I made a mental map of each obstacle, each obstruction, it could mean the difference between failure and success. My preference is always for as quick a kill as possible.

Fighting immortals one on one is always a challenge. Partially because death is a foreign concept to them. Even as their last breath passes from their lips they can not conceive it is truly happening.  For those of us to whom death is a constant companion, the dance for one more breath pushes us to focus, lest our short lives end even sooner.  The advantage Immortals have is they have the opportunity to learn a great deal more than I could ever hope to in my short life span. The only true advantage I have is that most often they are so arrogant in their immortality they give me openings I could never dare. So it proved with Creed, while he might have been a dragon, he still fell to two good old fashion blades.

I had to laugh to myself at Fahrad's comment on my success. What rogue ANNOUNCES their attack? I might be married to a Paladin but I don't fight like one. Of course I took Creed unawares...that is what we DO.  My guess is that Fahrad would have preferred to have been allowed to go after Creed himself, rather than staying locked down at the Manor protecting Wrathion. My poor cousin, your circumstances have little altered. Once more you must watch me ride away from a place that is no longer my home while you remain chained there by your own choices.

To be continued...