Vaunn went over to prod the Drakkari deathknight a bit with his claws… Hopefully the giant undead troll could move on his own soon, Vaunn was not one to act like a beast of burden for very long…
Vaunn glanced back at the Paladin asking for the permission to showering the group in light filled healing… Vaunn shook his body, he desired no such thing, it wasn’t as if it was even so much that possible… Vaunn’s armor was made of Saronite, any light directed at him was likely to reflect back at the caster! The only time he was truly vulnerable to the light was when he was healing in his incorporeal form…
Vaunn let out a small growl at Smuggs’s laugh at what be just wanton pain to the undead… Perhaps Vaunn should make it colder just to spite the warm blooded thing… Vaunn sighed he would not do such a thing, instead the wolf looked up towards the great swirling of ice and snow reflecting on his own past, he had been a slave to the Lich Kings will… A great terror to heroes of the frozen north, the great white wolf of the ice… The wolf didn’t even know how many he had killed before he himself was brought down…
It was a surprise to him back then, it was no Paladin or light infused hero who strives to purge the wolf from the world, but a team of ebon blade deathknights! After a lasting fight that felt like days, one of the lucky deathknights managed to secure the wolf with a chain and bring him down! Still there would be struggles tending of undead flesh until the words of those undead soldiers made it through to Vaunn… “You may be a beast, but you don’t have to be a slave…” Vaunn broke free that day, free of the Lich King, but also he ran still into the icy tundra to figure out who he was…
The wolf stopped coming back into this time period… They were looking for someone… Vaunn sniffed he knew this person before, a wise voice that led the worsen to the place he was now… Vaunn turned following the scent, the old pandaren sat incased in light armor, sitting in a meditative stance… Vaunn huffed settling into the ice, there was Fushan.
Maleok landed hard, he was not the kind that was used to such movements… The Drakkari wasn’t even that graceful on boats, it wasn’t that he got sea sick, it was hardly a possibility any more… It was just hard to stay balanced on such a moving structure… Maleok pushed his left arm into the snow beneath him, it reminded him of his home, his true home before the scourge came… It was one of the last troll kingdoms unburdened by hostile elves or starvation, the only place that could also claim that title was Zandalar itself! Maleok wished to travel to Zandalar soon enough, he needed advice and guidance from the high priests… Fibally the troll forced himself up, standing like a towering obelisk in the icy blasts and snow.
Maleok cast his vision over towards the Paladin she was a small thing, undoubtedly much more fragil than the undead around her yet, she still cared… Her ways reminded him of a specific loa from the Drakkari, a fierce cat loa who was both caring but incredibly powerful and when spurned a force to be reckoned with. Unlike Vaunn who seemed vehemently opposed to the healing Maleok just calmly shook his tusked head no. Maleok was more likely to be injured than not, his armor was made from bone so he could use it offensively, that however did make light more effective on him…
Maleok turned his attention to the gnome that had been trapped under the Master’s command same as he was. Maleok didn’t know the gnome before he was controlled, only knowing of the mad scientist the master had used him as. Maleok did however know of Throggore, his friend still trapped under the master’s insidious grasp, unable to escape… Maleok wondered what sort of punishments the Orc might endure for helping free the Drakkari… Maleok internally swore he would return to reclaim his friend and free him…
Isaik turned to look at Yumara while he was creating this object for Jericha… “If Orion does return to repair the original focus the object I create will work well along side of it…” Isaik said still focusing on crafting the spell, he knew the spell but it had been eons since the master needed to create a spell that limited power instead of magnifying it to uncontrollable levels, even a creature like him could make mistakes… Though rare they were…
Isaik considered her words carefully, he could try to craft the ring from a newer more familiar source but as it was time was running out…
“I would use the demon lord… However his stubbornness makes such actions harder… Still the ring should House his essence, it bears his mark… If anything the ring should feel more like Salkeen…” Isaik paused, he had better explain more, “Just as Jericha is bound to Salkeen, a bond between me and the demon lord exists, through that bond I can affix the ring with his essence…” Isaik explained, it was complicated magic…
Isaik nodded Jericha’s mind had become a major mess of tangled fears involving him, some were logical he was a aggressive and dangerous individual… However, Isaik was still a creature that wouldn’t jeopardize his goals and aims… The death of Jericha would cause immense damage to Isaik’s plans for the future that would take too much valuable time to repair from… It wasn’t something Isaik wished to deal with…
Isaik’s eyes grew darker as he considered Yumara’s words… In a soulless voice the creature spoke… “Sometimes the hand of fate must be forced…” Isaik hissed, it meant that even if Jericha fully despised him Isaik was willing to do whatever it took to ensuring her survival… Whether that meant sieging the Ebony Tower itself or traveling the timeways to ensure this group of women survived…
Isaik turned his gaze to their observer in the room… “Ahcirej, it is good to see you still survive in some way…” Isaik offered the rig higher in the air so it could better be seen… “Truly the ring is not bound to me or the tome…” Isaik hissed, “Jericha fears both to much for that, the ring is instead bound to Salkeen…” Isaik explained he started to gesture with his other hand to show images… “The ring would normally act like a Dwarven spigot, a smaller opening to the vast amounts of void behind it… Jericha could only pull forth as much void as the ring would allow…” Isaik paused he rather disliked this next part, “The amount of void she could use is up to… … Salkeen…” Isaik hissed unsure if he should trust such power to one so overcome by his own emotions… Finally Isaik had to explain how the ring could handle the immense volume of her void when it was desired to be released at its apex but not allowed… “As the ring is bound to Salkeen, excess void that cannot be contained would be sent through Jericha to Salkeen through their linked souls, from there it is Salkeen who decides its destination…” Isaik hissed, another thing he despised giving Salkeen power to choose where the void went… It was likely the elf would sent it to a minion expecting power increased tenfold but instead it would likely kill something to weak to handle the power…
Isaik nodded this was stuff he had learned from Yumara, yet he could not change his connection to the tome or his creation of them…
Isaik eyes flashed as he listened to the key words he desired to hear… The Master knew exactly what copy of tome or even the exact tome that Ebony had used… One of his most vile, The Tome of Dominion… It was a tome that detailed the abilities to break down ones target completely and entirely controlling every aspect of their existence… Not the mind, body or soul was safe from the tomes magic, it was designed to dominate everything…
That last part was truly a challenge when Jericha fled at every moment Isaik was near, now she would flee from Yumara as well… The dark creature had to ponder for a great while before coming up with a possible solution… A great spell that acted like a black mirror, from this spell, Isaik could communicate with Jericha openly while still being unable to act through the mirror unless Salkeen and Jericha consented… It was a useful spell for speaking to incredibly powerful void entities still trapped within the dark recesses of the void itself… Isaik however knew he would still need to wait for them to come to him for aid… “No tricks this time…” Isaik hissed…
Lord Salkeen’s rage though incredible and furious did falter for a second seeing the extent at which Jericha was wasting away… As far as he remembered Salkeen didn’t have a family, he did everything on his own, made his own fate on his own… The demon lord just figured his wretch of parents never wanted him and left him when he was born, it was hard to say, he truly couldn’t remember anymore… The demon lord suspected it might have been because of his demon hunter transformation… Now that Salkeen had a family he was not going to give it up…
Salkeen saw her begin to make her way towards him, she was giving it her all to get to him, the least he could do was use his all to prevent her death… The demon lord began to summon more fel and power to his hands, he would fix her, he had too… No matter how much void there was he would need to force himself to push harder! Deep from the volcano the fel rumbled as it was drained, Salkeen would rather his fel creations die then what was his everything… The demon lord hissed as even the amount of power he was trying to use at once caused his own flesh to begin to burn away… Fel could be made by destroying light but it was still a element that consumed life, with his power to create it safely becoming more expended the fel did what was natural leeching his life for power… Salkeen was not creating fel fire, but pure fel energy in his last ditch effort to save Jericha, even as it started to consume his own life.
The demon lord was slowly starting to see even at using his absolute most amount of power he could bare, it wasn’t good enough, it was like fighting the void itself… Still Salkeen growled, he couldn’t ask that thing again for aid, he had just summoned Jericha back… Still Salkeen gripped the small coin in his hand, he was now going to ask for someone to repay their debt… Holding the coin ever harder it started to pulse…
Skalaz should his head, that eredar was definitely going to die again… Skalaz turned back to his work, if she did die, he was gonna give her two extra eyes… Skalaz examined his work once more, a small rat contained in ice before him… The goblin sighed as he conjured a minor fire ball of burning oxygen and carbon from the air and held it near the frozen ice, as usual the ice stood firm… Unmelting, not even a scratch from the burning fire… The goblin sighed, this was a piece of ice from something important to him, a powerful enchantment ensured it never thawed… And that was the problem…
The Goblin rise from his seat, pacing back and forth around the room the goblin peered over towards one of the farthest corners, a great steel door covered in magical nullification spells, yet still it had frost covering its surface… The hinges and cracks in the door ice could visibly be seen… Skalaz glared at the door, inside represented his own failures, his own inability even after all this power he now commanded to fix it… The only part he could be proud of was that he at least now had the object hidden behind that door, if it wasn’t for someone else it would’ve been impossible…
Skalaz paced some more trying to further figure out how to break that unbreakable ice, how to thaw what was enchanted to stay frozen… When he heard it calling to him, a first pulse then a second, a third… Skalaz knew what it meant, it was time to repay a debt… The goblin held out his hands calling forth his magic casting rod inscribed with alchemic equations and pulled forth several jars of what the goblin liked to call hyper ingredients, before with a flash of purple the goblin vanished!!
With a flash of purple the cheeky goblin had arrived, it didn’t take him long to see that it was a total mess he was now in… A elven female partially ethereal, clearly dying as her magic outweighed the capabilities of her body… Skalaz glanced at Salkeen, the outer layers of his flesh burning and wilting away as he battle to try and hold back a tidal wave of flooding magic that was even more expansive than his impressive power… Skalaz tapped his staff on the ground causing the coin in Salkeen’s hands to vanish and allow him to better view the situation he was dealing with…
What he saw would not be a easy thing to deal with, in the air around them pure void was materializing from a seemingly infinite pool of void presumably from the void itself… Skalaz examined the magical make up of Jericha’s body, well made, Salkeen had learned well how to create such things but the void trying to enter her flesh kept changing her make up… It created a newer makeup that was unstable, she would be unlikely to survive without intervention… The goblin hissed, even with his power it was unlikely they could completely fix the issue, but as it seemed right now they at least needed a temporary stability that would increase the women’s mortality rate for moments long enough to fix the over all problem.
The goblin tapped his staff on the ground once more, the goblin began his own spellwork to extend the life of the one Salkeen desired… With a great flash of red and purple a spell circle burned its way across the ground surrounding Salkeen and Jericha, outside that the goblin snapped his fingers conjuring a alchemic circle that etched into the ground… The goblin reached to his belt grabbing vials of purple and holding them in his hands… The goblin tossed the vials across the spell circle, the ingredients within would help power the spell he was about to create… Finally the goblin snapped his hands activating the vials, filled with condensed and purified soul material they would act as a pure energy source for the magic casting… Around the spell circles mightstones were created from thin air, a type of gem stone that could store, channel or hold any kind of magic… Nearly one hundred of them were created in a ring around Jericha and Salkeen!
Skalaz jabbed his staff hard into the ground and begun the second phase of his transmutation spellwork! In a great flash of purple and white light the might stones hummed to life and began absorbing all the void they could reach around them, a process that at first might seem like it would be the answer to the problems as the effects of the overloaded void in Jericha would lessen… But as the spell continued longer and longer the sheer volume of the magic trying to be contained would eventually overcome the spell circles ability to control it.
Skalaz set his staff down, the magical stick staying up right as if he still held it channeled the spell so Skalaz was more free to move… Moving into the Wild matrix of spells and void magic the goblin made his way closer to Salkeen… Skalaz knew he would not like the next words from the goblin but Skalaz was asked to save Jericha and it was the only way he saw how… Moving to the right of Salkeen who still channeled his magic, Skalaz spoke, “I understand you don’t wish for the masters aid, but unfortunately without him, she might perish…” Skalaz explained trying to logically play out the situation, “You asked me to save her, and I will do so in anyway you are satisfied with, we may both be contracted by him but this is your favor, I’ll follow your lead…” Skalaz continued, “Shall I open a black mirror to communicate with him?” Skalaz looked at Jericha, he did get a bit of information about her from his job position… “Don’t worry about a thing girly, with the black mirror the master has no ability to act near us without our permission…” Skalaz explained, he readied his hand to summon the magic that would allow such communication on their command.
Deep within the coalescing depths of the void, Rajen was reforming himself. As long as Jericha existed in any state so to would he. Unfortunately death was always a possibility, when it occurred he would need to reform. Now however was a poor time to need to reform, the gates were open, Jericha was dying. Rajen starts manipulating the energy around him, forcing it to rebuild, restore him faster. While doing this he summons other Ethereals. The area around him starts to shift and move, as hundreds of ethereals begin to form from the swirling darkness. They all answer the summoning of their Prince. Once Rajen finishes rebuilding his form he opens a rift to where the Void Witch is rapidly dying. Rajen steps out onto the field of chaos, the other ethereals follow close behind.
Rajen watched as the Goblin created an exceptionally powerful and ingenious network of Might Stones to drain much of the void. It was a magnificent piece of work, and Rajen to a second to admire it. Still it wouldn’t be enough, he could sense the tiny hairline fractures forming on the stones, as they start to become overloaded. That wouldn’t do, they needed more time for the Demon Lord to fix her. Rajen speaks as he does the other Ethereals move toward the circle might stones. Hovering in the air, they start chanting as they do so more of the void that is flowing into Jericha is suddenly pulled from her. There’s a collective whoooosh as the void slams into the Ethereals. Still they continue to summon the void into themselves, slightly easing the strain on both Jericha and the Might Stones. Still even then it wouldn’t give them a lot of time. As is the void was slowly stating to consume some of the Ethereals.
On the opposite side of the Fel Volcano, which was being rapidly drained by its very creator, to save his Jericha. A massive demonic gateway appears, from it nearly a hundred felhound Felhounds come rushing out, followed by dozens of Felguards. The hounds go into a frenzy as the smell the overwhelming amount of void energy surrounding them. They howl and twist about unable to act bound to their Felguard Masters wills. Behind the Felguards comes a small army of Demons, Imps, fiends, Infernals, mo’arg, Gan’arg, inquisitors, succubi, Man’ari, Wyrmtongue… etc. Every Demon that enters onto the Battlefield other that the Felguards and felhounds form line and wait for their new Lords inspection and commands. The Felguards form a line on one side of the circle of Might Stones, with cracks of long whips they send the Felhounds, to drain all the void they could. Once freed the magic devouring beasts rush forward. Their lond tentacle appendages reaching for the swirling void. Their sucker mouths gulping down as much void as possible. With the edition of the Felhounds the strain became even less. Still in the end the Void would consume there was to much of it. Still now Lord Salkeen had some breathing room. He now had the precious time he needed to save his void witch.
Laying on the fel and void riddled ground at Lord Salkeen’s feet. Lord Salkeen would see the pure fel start to work on his Jericha. The tendrils ripping her skull in two, twist about before being dissolved. Millions of thin fel threads appear within the gaping chasm of flesh, muscles and bones. They pull them back together, knitting them back into one. At first there’s a horrific scar, but it slowly fades until there’s only a thin barely noticeable line, that now devices Jericha’s face. All about her body tears and rifts are closing as much of the void is now being stemmed from flowing into her. Salkeen would feel his and Jericha’s combined soul within her start to become stronger as the fel he fed her and it was no longer being destroyed by the all devouring darkness. Jericha’s mind is pulled back to the waking world by the fel flowing into her and the voice of her Lord and world, Rajen, and that of another.
While Jericha didn’t like the idea of Salkeen’s Dark Master being involved. She also understood that none other than him had the power to actually stop the destruction. Yet fear still flooded her at the thought, it was sheer will that held her where she was. After a moment of internal fighting Jericha opens her mouth to speak. Her voice is cracked and weak from the earlier destruction and the pain. “Lord Salkeen!” Jericha reaches forward and grips one of his powerful legs with her hands. The physical contact seems to strengthen both the Fel Lord Salkeen is feeding her, and Jericha’s will. “As much as I fear and despise asking Your Dark Master for aide of any kind. I fear that this is one time that Neither of us will be able to fix what is happening to me.” Jericha says, stopping mid way as a wave of agony rolls over her body. “I don’t want his help, however I fear that I might need it. So I am willing to listen to what he might have to offer. So with your permission Lord Salkeen, I would like for the Goblin to…” Jericha sips speaking a second time as pain racks her body again lasting a bit longer this time. “Use this Black Mirror he is speaking of.” With that Jericha reaches for Lord Salkeen with her other hand. Gripping his leg she pulls herself so she is pressed against them.
Salkeen saw as his offer worked, Skalaz was repaying his debt… A debt that cost Salkeen hundreds of demons to a icy death of permanent icicles, even now they were frozen in that hell… Salkeen didn’t see the value in what the goblin needed help in rescuing but a debt was a debt… The goblin immediately set to aiding the demon lord in his own way of cold logic, science and magic as one, etching a spellwork of magic to deal with the problem…
As Skalaz started to ramp up his magic spell circle the brunt of the energy required on Salkeen was lessen… Much to the demon lords relief the damage that was being sustained on his flesh slowly started to heal back, but as fel still flowed it would be a long process…
Salkeen growled the wound from earlier involving his master was still fresh, the demon lord still wanted to believe that The Master was not necessary for fixing what belonged to Salkeen…
Salkeen’s displeasure lessened as he saw felhunters come into the magical fray, he didn’t know why he didn’t think of it himself… The demonic creatures were excellent for such a situation, even upon ingesting to much magic the creations simply reproduced rather than perished like the mightstones would have! With this event that caused Salkeen so much displeasure at least he would receive a army of new felhunter born from the errant magic.
Salkeen turned his gaze upon Jericha’s face, a low growl still emitted from his person as he thought dealing with The Master… The dark creature that ruled over him only dealed in one way, things had to benefit him in someway… Sometimes the dealings were easy, somehow in the future saw by that mad creature he benefited by lending his aid… Other times were not as successful, if he saw no gain in the end he might not help at all… Salkeen wondered how it would be this time…
Salkeen glared down at the ground listening to Jericha’s words, if she could stand it long enough to converse with him so could Salkeen… The demon lord glanced up then towards Skalaz, “Do it…” Salkeen hissed, He straighten his own posture and prepared to meet his Master who he so reviled at this moment.
Skalaz nodded, with this his debt would be repaid… The goblin gestured his hands in the air calling forth the arcane and alchemic magics, with a loud snap of his fingers the goblin pulled void magic, obsidian glass and sulfur into a flat reflective mirror. The mirror stood unmoving seemingly as if it was otherworldly before the glass seemed to buckle as if the surface was like that of a calm lake… Now it would only take Master Isaik to respond with his own…
Isaik felt the call, he ever watchful of his minions through their eyes, could tell the time was nearing as Jericha reluctantly did accept that she would need Isaik’s interference in order for her own perseverance. As Skalaz formed a black reflective surface one of the few requisites for the spell, Isaik formed his own… From pure coalesced void Isaik formed a pitch black surface that literally jutted from the ground like a monolith… With a short wave if his hand the magic was adhered and the black mirror created… It wasn’t long before the mirror of Isaik’s side began to warble and buckle as the two distant objects magically linked…
It didnt take long before the images of Jericha, Salkeen and Skalaz appeared clearly among the black reflective surface… Rajen, the ethereals and the demons appeared less in focus in the background… on the other side of the mirror, on the apex of the one dead volcano, Salkeen, Jericha and Skalaz would see Isaik and Yumara clearly with the rest of the forest less in focus… Isaik tilted his head, he might as well go first…
“Good evening… Come to realize my involvement is necessary?” Isaik asked in a dark hiss… “Know that I do have what you seek…” Isaik continued he slowly brought the ring up to the mirror so they could see… Isaik’s demeanor grew slightly more cold however, “Know that I do this for reasons that are my own, this time there is no deal to make…” Isaik hissed, he of course was referring to Yumara. Isaik had learned all to well that the women were linked by a violent past, still the creature was a villain unlike any other and the thought of acting out of some form of good will sickened him… Isaik had grown increasingly tired of his constant attention required on the demon lord and his pet, Isaik was not a dark ruling master who felt he should hold the hands of his minions… The very thought made him question their competence…
The Master had other things to attend to then the constant dramatic struggle of the demon lord… The war in Azeroth was only getting more out of control, several of the masters minions reported a great old god like creature named Ghuun… The heroic adventurers managed to put down the threat with much trouble, but now it left a ever decomposing corpse of something the Master very much wished to look into… Luckily he had sent the Mirehexxer to gather samples…
Isaik turned his attention back to the group assembled on the other side of the mirror… “This rings acts much like a Dwarven beer spigot… It determines how much of Jericha’s great power can be accessed at one time… If your void becomes to unruly, the ring is linked to Salkeen who has the choice to send excess void to anyone or anything he has a connection to…” Isaik hissed loathing giving the arrogant creature such power… “The choice of destination is for Lord Salkeen to decide, however I urge you choose wisely, I find it rather unlikely one of your lesser minions can channel such power…” Isaik hissed… “The ring has no inherent connection to me or my artifacts, without Salkeen’s will to send it my way, I will receive none of your void…” Isaik continued staring straight at Jericha…
Isaik held up the ring higher now his palm fully opened… “One last thing, I spoke to Ahcirej, who assured me that I am feared by you because you see your grandfather…” Isaik hissed watching her every move… “I will not say I am not like that creature, I am cruel, vile, cunning… I feel no remorse and will cut down anything that stands in my way… But know I am not wasteful… I will not let you die if you still follow our goals, I will not let you rot away in some cell in the hands of the enemy…” Isaik explained his words hopefully making his case crystal clear, “So long as you follow your lord, and your lord follows me, you will have nothing to fear from me…” Isaik hissed before glaring at Salkeen, “That is barring failure of course…” Isaik growled, he remembered full well that torture and punishment for failure was something he was not permitted to do to Jericha but something for her lord and vice versa…
Isaik pushed the ring to the glass of the mirror, “This ring is yours should you accept it, with your consent the mirror will let it through…” Isaik hissed, He was sure they got the point… Isaik was every bit as cruel and terrible as Ebony, they were both creatures that dabbled in the void for their own ends and would commit genocide for their goals… But Isaik however felt superior to Ebony, his eredar blood made him realize the potential of something’s worth, and his future gazing ability gave him clarity… So long as they were with him, he would ensure their survival…
Jericha holds herself pressed against Lord Salkeen’s calfs. She is more Ethereal than actual flesh, blood and bone at this time. Still for the time being the the agony of having every cell in your body. Overload and explode, had greatly lessened. Jericha sighed as much as she feared asking Lord Salkeen’s Master for any sort world of aide. She also knew deep down she could die without it. Still she would choose death over anything that would tie her in anyway to that cursed tome. It felt like those that were used on her, only much more vile.
Jericha watched as Isaik and Yumara started to come into focus. Part of her wanted to shatter the mirror, to tell Lord Salkeen that she had changed her mind that they could do it with Isaik’s help. Yet Jericha understood that a lot of what made her want to run was sheer terror. The other part of it was pride, she hated that Lord Salkeen and her couldn’t permanently solve this problem on their own. Jericha knows that the two of them together could give her a few days. Perhaps even a week or two, if enough was sacrificed. Still in the end the void would claim her, and Jericha wasn’t ready to be away from Lord Salkeen. So As She watches Isaik appear on the other side of glassy black reflecting surface. Her grip on Lord Salkeen tightens, as she looks from Isaik to Yumara. Yumara doesn’t look well even with the healing, the forest is providing. Then it hits Jericha, she had tried to kill Yumara. Yumara who has spent most of her life, coming to Jericha rescue. Yumara who continuously sacrifices everything for her. Yumara who even now cares for Jericha far more than she ever should. Jericha doesn’t understand when had she started hating her so much…
When Isaik speaks, Jericha feels as though her entire body has frozen. “Hello Isaik, If we had the time then your involvement would not be necessary. Yet that isn’t the case, as much ch as I would prefer you not be involved, I know when I’m in over my head.” Jericha says coldly, hissing in pain as a wave of agony Spears through her. “Still I didn’t not want that tome of yours involved in any way. Surely you are capable of great feats of magical prowess, that don’t require you having to rip spells or magic from it. Know This I will except nothing from you that has any ties to that tome of yours Isaik.” Jericha says this with finality.
Jericha looks at the ring and frowns slightly. While she could easily see the ring, it had been made outside of her presence. She couldn’t tell if the tome had been used or not in its making. With the way Isaik resorted to using the tome, especially were Jericha was concerned, she found herself feeling rather weary. “What makes you say that, the ring you hold is what we seek?” Jericha asks her voice laced with uncertainty as she stares at it. “Everything you do is for your own reasons Isaik, I’ve always understood that.” Jericha speaks quickly, her eyes not leaving the ring.
Jericha tilts her head slightly as Isaik speaks. He claims the ring is tied to Lord Salkeen, yet she has no way of knowing that until the ring is actually in her presence. That it is Lord Salkeen that would control all the excess void that was flooding her to the point where she would truly die. Lord Salkeen would choose where it went, Jericha didn’t care where it ended up. So long as it wasn’t that Genesis Tome… “What do you mean, when you say, it has no inherent connections? What is the difference between no connections whatsoever, and no inherent connections Isaik?” Jericha asks, she honestly doesn’t want that book involved. Jericha shifts a little so that she can see Isaik better. “I want to say that I do not want Lord Salkeen, giving you any of the excess void Isaik. I am almost certain that you will feed it to that vile tome of yours.” Jericha nearly bites through her lip, as waves of unrelenting agony wash over her.
When she speaks again her voice is cracked and strained. “It isn’t mine, the only void which is mine, the only void I’m able to use and control, is that which flows through the portals in Ebony’s Tower.” Jericha moans in pain, her grip of Lord Salkeen faltering. “That void can only be controlled by those with control of Ebony’s Tower.” Jericha looks at Isaik when she speaks because she knows that Yumara would of shared things with him. “When My Grandfather thought to use me as a portal. It wasn’t just as one but as many. I was the Master Portal, through me dozens of lesser portals were connected, hundreds of portal leases than those, thousand rifts and tears. All of these connected to the Master Portal. When Yumara destroyed the archway, before devouring, and eradicating my spirit.” Jericha can feel herself trembling and not just from fear. “Something went wrong, the network of portals, gateways, rifts and tears, should of been destroyed. Yet they weren’t they became bound to me, and my mind and body are only capable of controlling and containing that which comes from the tower. It took me centuries just to be able to control that much. The excess void that comes from all these other places, isn’t mine, I cannot contain it, or control it. Yet it is trapped within me, it floods me until I explode, ripping, tearing, shredding.” The pain has Jericha in tears… “I will defer to Lord Salkeen’s Judgement on this. I am his, always his, and only his, if he decides that this ring is the answer. Then I will do as he commands.”
Jericha suddenly stops speaking curling into a ball as pain wracks what remains of her body. When it ends she looks at the dark reflective surface her face twisted in pain and smiles. Taking one of her claw like nails she carves a rune into her arm, then speaks a few words in Shath’Yar. When finished glowing runes cover her entire being then fade away. Why didn’t I think of that to begin with? “If they’re any sort of loopholes, The will not effect or work on me. So if you are a two faced liar then nothing that you try and sneak onto the ring will work. The only part of the ring that will work, is the part that allows Lord Salkeen control of all this unwanted, uncontrollable void that is tearing me apart.” Jericha claims, *she could hope that Isaik wouldn’t try anything like that. But she knew in the end he was Ebony Darkskill… he was always Ebony Darkskill. At least now she was strong enough to protect herself.
Jericha listens as Isaik speaks about what Ahcirej has told him. “Isaik, Grandfather did exactly what he thought necessary, to gain what he desired. He would never see anything that he did as being wasteful.” Jericha’s says harshly, not caring for the fact that Ahcirej couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “I will always follow Lord Salkeen, till the end of all creation.” Jericha looks away from the ring and directly at Isaik, for the first time, since the ring was introduced. whether the ring was used or not was for Salkeen to decide. Just as it would be Salkewn decision on whether or not he wanted the original focus restored when Orion returned…
“Isaik, why did you send Varicar after me with that tome? Why did you cast a spell from it at me, when I fled that first time? Why do you keep trying to use it on me? You say you will not let me waste away in the hands of the enemy. So why dive me to them?”
Isaik regarded Jericha, it had been so long since she could stand his presence enough to actually, it was finally something more refreshing to deal with than panicked shrieking…
Isaik crossed his arms as she made her demands about his tome, to him she hardly understood what it was… “I will make myself clear, that tome is of great importance to me due to its nature, but as other things it is merely a tool… The tome does not rule over me, I am it’s master…” Isaik explained, as Zalak the tome was his creation, his masterpiece, his personal spellbook, still he ruled it if he willed the tome had no connections to a object it would oblige.
Isaik knew she was clever but at this point it was more paranoia… “How connected is a sword to the anvil it was crafted upon? Is it the anvils or the blacksmiths? When the blacksmith designs a sword for a knight, who does it belong to?” Isaik said, it seemed cryptic but it should truly reveal how it was in relation to him. The ring was forged by him, but it was Salkeen’s, the only connection was the fact that Isaik and Salkeen shares a connection at all.
Isaik listened to her irrational fear of the tome again… “I will do my best to oblige you…” Isaik hissed it was a hard choice to do with his soul bound to the tome… Isaik could’ve easily told her about how it was his phylactery, but such knowledge was best known by little…
Isaik merely stayed silent listening to all her information she was willing to share…
Isaik further listened to her speak, she was connected to all the rifts, to be a master portal… Isaik had thought of using such a way to bring a void lord into reality, however he found much more efficient ways… The only thing Isaik was truly planning for was creating a power source strong enough to sustain a void lord in this reality and the ability to destroy it anyway…
Isaik continued to listen to her explain why this amount of void magic was nearly impossible for her to control. The being Zalak had learned mastery over the void over eons… He was well past Jericha’s level before the fall of Argus, his extensive life conquering worlds made him into the god-like being he was today… Yet it was not enough to prevent his own death… Isaik watched Jericha, she meant much to Lord Salkeen, he knew without her the demon lord might go mad, it was not a thing he wished to deal with…
Isaik tilted his head, “He is lucky to have someone so devoted and loyal…” The dark creature hissed, it was merely a observation made into a statement to further hopefully calm her emotions…
Isaik was not sure he agreed… “Your death to summon the void lords is not wasteful?” Isaik asked, at least with his goals should he succeed he would have the power of omnipresence, reality would be his to command, anyone who had died in service to fulfill his victory would be rewarded with life once more. “Your grandfather has a flawed view of victory… In order to ensure my own I must guarantee his failure…” Isaik hissed…
Isaik gave a sly grin under his hood, such a thing was perfectly acceptable assuming Lord Salkeen followed Isaik til the end of time as well… The dark creature recognized the unfortunate creation of distance between the two by Jericha… Even if it was not intentional…
Isaik observed Jericha closely, she truly did desire to know why he did what he did… “That tome is a infinity of spells and knowledge, almost every piece is tailored to a user of the void… It should come as no surprise I wished to enhance your power with my experience… You follow Salkeen and therefore you are apart of this organization…” Isaik explained hopefully she would understand that she still belonged to Lord Salkeen, but even if she didn’t see Isaik as a commander, he still would supply all his minions with power…
Isaik tilted his head at her question of the spell from the tome. “Sometimes a spell is just a spell, the tome just happened to be where is was written. Would you have hated the same spell if it was etched on a stone tablet? The spell used was my attempt to clear you both of that plague from Reavrix… As I had not been to your tower before I would have never had knowledge of its ability to do the same…” Isaik explained, his intentions to keep what was his strong were not I’ll will towards Jericha.
“As for my insistence on its use? Would you stop feeding a young elfling the necessary nutrients for its survival? This tome is my masterpiece, though I don’t require its use, it has been built up for eons to do its job efficiently and quickly… Woth all the power placed within it, it is wasteful to not try to use it… As for your fleeing, If you never stopped to learn more of what you fear I can’t stop you from fearing it. You flee from power and the things that make you stronger towards your own doom. I can lead a Stormwind horse to a oasis in the desert, but if it refuses to drink and nearly die I can only try to lead it there again…” Isaik hissed, he had said much to her this time and still the ring was offered, the Master turned to see what Lord Salkeen would do…
Jericha listened as Isaik spoke of the vile tome. She waited until he finished before speaking herself. Her voice cracking from the pain that was slowly seeping back in. “I understand that the tome is of great importance to you. Yet let me be clear, whether it is used directly or merely as reference. It forces me to relive centuries, nearly a millennium of agony, despair. and terror. It doesn’t build up gradually, it hits all at once.” Jericha pauses her grip on Lord Salkeens leg tightening for a moment. “Almost every torture I was put through at the hands of Grandfather and his minions. I have to relive when that tome of your is involved, Isaik. I flee from it in terror, because if I stayed it would destroy my mind.” Jericha isn’t sure if Isaik being evil is able to understand what she is saying.
Jericha once more stops to listen to Isaik’s words, it gave time for Lord Salkeen’s fel to chase away some of the random bouts of agony caused by the rampaging void within her. “If the anvil is an extremely power dark artifact, then there’s always the chance of something being transferred from it, to the sword.”
“Thank you, it is really all I can ask for.” Jericha says respectfully.
Jericha waited, unsure if Isaik would give reason to why he chose to use that Tome over and over. It isn’t long before he speaks detailing the reasons behind his use of the tome. Jericha could understand the first time, but once he realized her reactions to it, he should of stopped. “I can understand being that I was a Void user and that I was losing my connections to it. You turning to a powerful Void source to try and help me. You would of had no previous knowledge of how the tome would cause me to react. Still once I fled from it, you should of realized there was something wrong.” Jericha says sensing things moving beyond the portals creatures trying to fight their way through. “I excepted the Blood of Sethe from you, so why would I flee from something that echoed my very nature? Jericha asks, with Isaik and the tome in Yumara’s forest, Jericha is unable to sense then. The fear she feels now, comes from the knowledge that the book is most likely near.
“When it comes from that tome, to me it becomes much more, as I said earlier. It is a death sentence, brought on by madness, terror, agony, and despair. So yes I would rather it be referenced or read from a stone tablet, It wouldn’t cause the damage having used the tome would cause.”
If said Nutrients came from a Child poisoning psychopath, known for brutally torturing and murdering young Elflings… Then yes I would stop feeding it to the Elfling and find another source in which to obtain said nutrients.” Jericha says her voice breaking slightly. “Your Masterpiece is my damnation, I don’t flee it towards my doom, I flee it because it is my doom.” Jericha says lastly before becoming silent, she could only hope that the tome was used in no way, when it came to the making of the ring. She tried to explain why she couldn’t have anything at all to do with the tome. She could only hope that the message was understood.
Victur sealed up the nether rift behind them before listening to the gnome ask is this was the right place! As if Victur has the ability to bring them to the wrong place! He paused… Actually that was a very real thing he was capable of, for all he knew they could be on the highest peak of high mountain… The nether was funny that way, it was a realm of pure chaos, you had to be resolute if you wished to go one way or the other…
Victur’s own time in the nether did indeed change him, whether for better or worse was still up for debate, but it did allow Victur to learn more about the nether and the nature of fel than almost any other person human… Not that he was considered human anymore… Victur still recalled his time in the nether with now what could be called happiness, back then it was a whole assorted of different emotions.
The first few days in the nether was as expected for a living being, panic, fear, desperation… Unless one was lucky there was hardly a great deal of drinkable water in the nether unless one had the magic to create some… Victur did indeed have such magic, he also had precautions of survival essentials taken with him… They were supposed to last a few months at most, however when his spell rebounded he was trapped deeper in the nether than others dared to go. Victur landed on some red dust covered rock deep within the twisting nether, a world sparsely inhabited by even demons… In all sense of the word it was a dead world, whether it was always this way or once a vibrant planet Victur never knew…
All to soon Victur learned he had to fight the denizens in his new home or hide in plain sight. Victur has landed on a world the legion didn’t even care for, so the demons left behind were also placed there to be forgotten… The warlock moved around the planet carefully exploring a new world and doing his best to be undetected by the demons around him… After many months Victur managed to gather certain ingredients that might substitute as regents for a return spell… When the warlock prepared to finally go home and utilize the spellwork, he instead was cast further into the nether again…
Unfortunately this time was a much longer travel… Victur probably wouldn’t have made it at all had he not made precautions during the spell that sent him this way… Fearing death, the young warlock bound his soul to a stone and retethered it to his body… As the warlock traveled deeper into the nether it became apparent he was traveling farther and longer, minutes turned to hours, hours to days… Wjen he finally landed on a world deep within the recesses of the nether he had been traveling for a thousand years…
The undead corpse came back to the current situation at hand… His idle mind always taking him back to the eons he spent alone in the nether… It appeared to Victur that Smuggs had been calling out to a bear he just noticed sitting on a icy edged rock… Victur thought it was a odd place to find a person but what was he to judge!
Varicar nodded he was sure the plan was understood, looking to Throggore the fel monk made a quick gesture informing the rogue that he was free to act within his own discretion… Varicar still wasn’t sure he trusted Throggore entirely after the incident that allowed Maleok to break free, but he would continue watching the rogue for now.
Varicar reflected his own job, Sentinel, a commander and watcher over over the armies of the master and his chosen three… Under Salkeen, Varicar could demand such orders from the demons it would cause them to quake as if it was their lord itself who issued such commands… Under Skalaz, Varicar lead such strikes with the homunculi, one couldn’t be sure what truly happened at all… Take this battle right now, the alliance would be lead to believe the horde attacked them again! But they dare not inform the public, such show of failure again might totally break the people’s trust in the Stormwind guard… Varicar had yet to command under Yumara, though eager he was to try, he wondered if by her will he could command her darkened fey creatures to strike at her and the masters enemies… Perhaps with her knew denomination of mother of the homunculi, he would instead continue to lead them as he always had except closer to Yumara… The fel monk wondered if that meant he might be commanding alchemically and magically created monsters under Skalaz from this point forward…
The elf pulled back in his thoughts… With such recent events with Lord Salkeen, Varicar truly wondered if he would be permitted to give such commands… It was clear his void witch hated Varicar, it was nothing he could help, he was following orders… That’s all Varicar ever did, he was obedient… Varicar cracked his knuckles in the dungeon as he continued his thoughts, it was entirely possible Lord Salkeen would try to replace Varicar’s position in his armies… He had the minions to do so… The elf hissed, he was still not obsolete… He would show it with this prison break…
Lunging forward the elf bolted down a stone hallway, coming across a massacre of Stormwind guards, Throggore had been quite bloody in his incursion forward… Leaving none for the elf it was efficient… Varicar turned down a long tunnel coming across two guards sent to scout ahead… The would be no match for him! Roaring with a rage unlike the fel monk normally he conjured blasts of fel chi that lifted the guards into the air before with a sharp explosion sent them crashinging into the walls with such force it crushed them in their armor! Now was the time to cement his training as a homunculi agent, “For the horde!” Varicar roared his flesh reverting back to tan as his void elf illusion melted away! A guard lunged forward from a nearby hallway stabbing his clean blade straight into Varicar’s chest…
The dark homunculi laughed, had he been a mortal elf still his life would be over… But as the perfect creation he was hardly injured by the cold steel mundane blade! Varicar cross chopped his arms across his chest shattering the guards arm and bending the metal with his power! The guard in desperation brought up his lion crested shield in a attempt to save his life, but he had already forfeit that by being in this very dungeon! Varicar leapt back quickly before springing forward and kicking hard with his power, so skilled was the move Varicar sent the risen shields edge into the guards skull through his helmet… Varicar did rather enjoy this bloody slaughter, sometimes it just felt good to slay such a weak opponent, much like a Orc crushing a mosquito that earned his irrational irritation by the mere fact of its existence…
Varicar continued down the hall, he could have searched harder, the stockades were a catacombed maze of hallways, even with the men Varicar killed there was undoubtedly enough left for both Throggore and Korgorn to slay! Varicar stopped hard at the edge of a corner, his elven ears hearing the familiar freak of Stormwind armor… A quick glance shared with his everything he wished to know… The guards had set up a choke point, risen shields blocked the path as Paladins stood behind ready to reinvigorate their charges… Much to Varicar’s sick pleasure he saw that cowardly mage among them, sent back towards his death to try and stop them… Varicar would enjoy breaking both Braumer and his commanding officer…
Myrandah lets out a relieved sigh, and cannot help the small snort of laughter that escapes from her mouth. “Hey I had to at least offer my help, it wouldn’t do to not offer.” She looks around at the rest of the group, most seem to have their own means of healing. She takes a closer look at the Gnome Hunter, she knows the affliction that he suffers from. She has watched at it claimed many, in her line of work, she dealt with many diseases. She had met her share of Leper Gnomes, she had done what she could to help. Yet in the end all she could do was make them comfortable. In the end the disease would claim them, their minds their bodies. She shakes her head to clear away the thoughts.
“I’m sorry with all the fighting and chaos, I don’t believe I ever introduced myself, and now seems the perfect time.” Myrandah says while casting Holy Light to slowly heal the damage she had sustained. “I’m Myrandah, the two that were with me originally are Gregor and Grundel, dwarven brothers. Gregor the warrior, and Grundel the rogue. I met them in Stormwind, they had been sent on a mission to find a Blood Elf rogue named Izzabelle.” Myrandah continues her eyes following where the Gnome is gazing. “Her father noticed something during her last visit, that started him worrying. He sent the Dwarf Brothers to find her, but it seemed she had vanished off the face of Azeroth. I joined the search as I am a friend of Izzabelle’s, and know she has been through much.” Myrandah stops speaking as she follows the Gnome through the snow. Before long she to is finally able to see an old Pandaren sitting on a rocky out cropping. He seemed to be meditating and deep in thought. “As I said we were searching for Izzabelle, that cursed foul monk, claimed that his Master had her.” Myrandah takes a deep breath, she knows the monster was speaking truthfully, yet she could still hope. “Please tell me that creature was lying about that.”
Smuggs glanced back at the Paladin, “I hear ya, sometimes the light isn’t friendly to all. Those three no doubt have a Hagiophotophobia, fear of the holy light.” Smuggs said back, again Vaunn growled in the distance, no doubt a protest that he did not fear the light. The reasponse caused Smuggs to look at Victur, he wondered if that half crazed undead feared the light either. The undead warlock didn’t really seem to fear anything at all.
Smuggs nodded learning the Paladins name finally, in the chose he wasn’t sure he introduced any of the others either. “I am Smuggs Blacksteele, the corpse over there is Victur Lazarus, our resident netherwalker.” Victur stood there awkwardly for a few moments before finally nodding, “He’s a bit slow sometimes…” Smuggs said, “The worgen is Vaunn Revehn, we call him the white wolf sometimes.” Smuggs continued, Vaunn gave a short growl that showed he was listening. “The last I barely know, wjen I was ensorcelled they called him Maleok. He seems to have been trapped with me.” Smuggs said, he listened to her talk of Izzabelle… It wasn’t a good story…
Smuggs looked down he was sure how to tell her, the last time Smuggs saw the red haired elf she was dead on the beach wasting away…
Smuggs swallowed hard before finally speaking. “The last time I saw her she had died… She was wasting away on the beach… If they stole her body away I wouldn’t know I had already moved on.” Smuggs said…
Fushan sat among the ice and cold of the mountain, repentance for his failure… The pandaren had in his actions killed a women who only needed help, but still she died… Fushan felt the icy wind lash around him, frost forming on his fur… This was as he deserved for his mistake… The old pandaren would meditate here for years before he came down the mountain… Even now the wind whispered into his ear, “One cannot find fault in things they did not know…” Fushan kept meditating, the haste of the wind had been apart of the reason he acted so… What the pandaren needed now was the earth… “one must be patient enough to observe all that he can, but even then you can be deceived…”
Fushan shook his head still deep in meditation, he could hardly allow himself to do such things again, even with the elements trying to calm their friend, he would not budge, the pandaren needed to repent… Even as the wind wished to help their friend it was in its nature to cut like icy blades on the mountain…
Finally Fushan felt something different, how long the pandaren had been meditating he did not know, much of the outside world had changed… A war among the alliance and horde had begun and now was in full tilt effect, the alliance had sacked a ancient kingdom of trolls… A hum of fel energy signaled something had breached through the walls of reality to this spot… The pandaren did not move but still readied himself, perhaos it was some small remnants of the legion come to seek a new foothold on Azeroth…
Instead something else came, whispering into his ear the wind always warned the pandaren of anything… “Your gnome is here…” Fushan didn’t move he wasn’t ready to come down from the mountain…
Fusham didn’t respond, if Smuggs was meant to find him, he would, if the wind willed to conceal the pandaren to further meditation, the gnome would leave eventually… It wasn’t until Fushan heard the others that he started to wonder if they would leave… Fushan readied himself, he would have to be stern when telling them to go away, he would not be himself until then…
Fushan heard them asking about the young women he had killed in his pride, perhaos he couldn’t remain silent… “I killed your friend, a horrid curse was put upon her mind, in my pride to remove it she was instead killed, wasting away on the beach…” Fushan said in a normal sad tone, but the wind carried it across the mountain so it would be heard resolute. “If those monsters have your friend, they have a corpse.” Fushan continued, he looked down, another one of his failures… In his haste to bring upon his repentance he had not ensured the elf had a proper burial… Now she would be defiled… Fushan wept a single tear, elements tell me what to do…
Myrandah lets out a strangled gasp and drops to her knees on the harsh frozen ground. That couldn’t be, it just couldn’t be, that foul fel Monk had taunted her with having Izzabelle. He acted like she still lived and was with them of her own free will. Izzabelle would never join them of her own free will. Had they truly taken her body, what type of horrific experiments would that loathsome creatures Master perform on it Myrandah at the moment is to stunned by the news to even think cohesively. She just shakes her head, Lizzie was going to be devastated. To her Izzy was the best pirate, now she was gone. Myrandah balls her hands into fists, clenching them so tightly that her nails puncture the flesh. Yet she doesn’t acknowledge the pain or the crimson drops stai g the pristine white snow. After a moment tears begin to drop from her eyes. How could she not…
Myrandahfirst though was to lash out at the Pandaren. Yet she sensed from him no ill ntentions only a deep all consuming sadness. One that seemed to be eating him alive, she believed that the old bear had done what he did out of compassion. Still the idea of those monsters defilement of Izzabelle’s corpse sent chills racing down Myrandah’s spine. Oh Light hel me, what if they tried to make her into whatever that wretched Elf was. It definitely wasn’t a living g creature, although its resemblance to one was uncanny. Still the very idea of Izzabelle being dead was… was…
Suddenly without warning Myrandah start frantically searching her pockets. Potion bottles, vials and flasks hit the ground, along with some food rations. It is joined by some miscellaneous spell components, a few light blessed weapons, and a few prayer books, land on the frozen ground as she proceeds to empty out her bags. Searching for something. Why hadn’t she thought of it moments ago. She can feel her heart racing as she prays that the item she desperately desired was with her and not the Dwarf brothers. After what seems to Myrandah like a lifetime, she spots what she is searching g for. A silver pocket-watch simple in its design, yet very delicate and beautiful. Taking a deep breath and holding it she Brings it to her ear and listens. Her chest is burning, sweat dampens her brow Even in this harsh frozen climate tick… tick… tick… tock… Myrandah clutches the watch to her chest and starts sobbing. “Izzabelle isn’t dead, if they have her, they do not have a corpse. This watch tracks her life force, if she were dead it wouldn’t be working. Still the hands are going crazy. She turns the watch so that Smuggs can see it. The watches hands are spinning rapidly in random directions. While Izzabelle might not be dead, she is also nolonger on Azeroth.” As Myrandah says this she stands and wipes her eyes. “If that foul creature has her I will get her back.”
Sericon nodded, “Probably for the best anyway, this ship already has holes in it.” Sericon said taking the vessel higher and turning it towards the Masters great vessel. Sericon listened to Izzabelle speak again, she was probably right, that group of crazies couldn’t be helped… Sericon having the smaller legion ship aimed at the masters vessel then gave it a bit of throttle and sent them hurtling across the sky like a fel meteor! Even from a distance the ship was daunting, hanging into the sky like a great blade ready to drop and split the planet apart… The smooth black razor edged metal made the ship seem both removed from the world as if it didn’t truly belong and yet ever present it wasn’t something you could just ignore…
Pulling the ship higher the great black vessel only seemed to get larger and more menacing as they came closer. The masters vessel even seemed as if it was alive, slowly moving in some places like it was breathing, as if the master had created a old god to ride across the stars… As they came even closer Sericon slowed the ship down to see if he could spy any opening, however it didn’t seem that simple… Sericon took the vessel in near one of the great black wings that seemed to hold the masters vessel in the sky, before lowering the legion vessel in a version of landing…
With a quick few pulls of levers and activation of a few buttons Sericon warped himself and the others out of the legion fighter and onto the surface of the black steel vessel… Glancing around it appeared there was no way into the dark vessel, much to it appeared his demonic followers relief, but as he searched for a entrance a nearby hiss caused the elf to look left. A new doorway had just appeared from nowhere, six folding blades pulled away to reveal the inner parts of the ship, “Well looks like that’s the way in!” Sericon smiled hoisting his scythe blade on his back he ensured it was secure before moving in…
Sericon crosses the threshold of the newly materialized door before peering into the more familiar dark hallways that seemed to snake through the vessel… Sericon was sure if he walked about inside the vessel would lead him to the place he wanted to go… Sericon turned around to see the eredar and wyrmtongue who had accompanied them standing well outside the masters dark vessel. “We gonna stay here, someone must guard the ship!” The eredar barked, Sericon was sure it was for other reasons however… “Fine, but if you stay behind you may miss out on any rewards!” The elf taunted before heading into the darken hallways.
Wandering down the long hallways the elf turned right before turning again, just as before his room appeared before them as if it was the only room in the vessel. Pushing the great metal doors open Sericon had to see how things had changed… To his surprise it had changed much for the better! Within his room hovering in the center surrounded by magical tools for modifying it was a smooth blade blade like void vessel… The room had changed considerably, more weapons of every enchanted variation and armor hung on the walls and on elven statues… A desk near the corner of the room was covered in vials of every make and ingredients of even more… Several sat isolated from the others, elixirs crafted specifically for Sericon…
Sericon was pretty surprised that such things could be created so quickly, items and rewards aplenty for Sericon and undoubtedly inna room nearby for Izzabelle. Things that showed if one followed the master he rewarded them with things others would dream of… Sericon walked near the left side of his room examining the exotic armies crafted for him when he noticed something different… Apart from all the armors sat a bracer inscribed with magical runes, but among all the runes the most notable was a great image of a warrior with eight arms weilding a different weapon in every hand… Sericon didn’t know why but he felt it was important, reaching out he merely touched the metal bracer before it seemed to appear on his wrist… “Isn’t that odd… I wonder what it…” Sericon managed to say before his scythe appeared in his hand!
Sericon scratched his chin, he had a idea… Tossing his scythe hard so it sliced across the room before indenting into one of the walls, Sericon held his hand out as of ready to grasp a hilt! With a flash of black smoke the blades scythe reappeared in his hand… “Well let’s try…” Sericon places the scythe on his back, before holding his hand out again and looking at a crystalline sword hanging on the wall… With another flash of black smoke the sword now appeared in his hand… “Now that is interesting…” Sericon said, he glanced at one of the suits of armor, a great dark blue set of metal plates that seemed to have voidlike spikes accent the shoulders, arms and legs… With a greater flash of black smoke the armor appeared on Sericon, his older red metal armor appearing on a statue in the room… Sericon examined his new armor before placing the crystalline sword back down, “I think I might like this…” Sericon said grinning at Izzabelle, “What’s your room like?”
Izzabelle grins as Sericon pushes down on the throttle and send the Fighter, careening through the air, towards Master Isaik’s ominous Void Vessel. She watches it, as they approach, the way it hangs above Centralis. It is like a death sentence, a blade of darkness poised to pierce the heart of worlds. It seemed to exist and yet not exist at the same time. It is like when you are walking, and you get the feeling you are being watched. You stop and look back and you see nothing but a fleeting shadow. With a little trepidation you go and check it out. You carefully make your way towards where you saw it. Yet there is nothing there, you search for a few minutes, but find nothing. Finally giving up you start walking once more. One step, two steps, eleven steps… you feel as though you are being watched. Spinning around you see a fleeting shadow. Izzabelle get the feeling that this is how many would feel with Master Isaik’s Vessel looming above them. Yet Izzabelle didn’t feel the unease that most would in its presence. All the time spent in Ebony’s Tower, have her a sort of immunity to this stuff. So while It was indeed menacing to behold, it wasn’t menacing to her.
Izzabelle jumps slightly and squeaks in surprise as the door suddenly appears right behind where she is standing. The Eredar and Wyrmtongue, look ready to take the fighter and fly off with it. Being the brave, courageous being that they are, they offer to stay behind and Gaurd the ship. Izzabelle turns to Sericon and speaks, “I sure hope that we return before they arrive.” Izzabelle visibly shudders as she speaks the word they. “I would hate to think of what will happen to our new friends.” She turns and waves back at the two demons. “If they do arrive.” With that she follows Sericon into the darkened halls of Master Isaik’s Vessel. “So tell me Sericon, how long do you think it will take the two of them to take off?” Izzabelle asks gesturing back with her head in the direction that they had just came. It doesn’t take long for them to finally reach Sericons rooms once again. The way this vessel worked was amazing, it could bring you to exactly where you wished to go. Or you could wander it lost for days, weeks, months, years. Izzabelle is awed by the changes done to Sericon’s room in such a short time. It was like the vessel itself understood him, knew what he needed, and reacted to it. Izzabelle leans against the wall, watching as Sericon enjoys some of his new toys.
Izzabelle’s eyes widen slightly at Sericon’s words. “I still belong to Lord Salkeen right now Sericon, I highly doubt that I ha…” her sentence fades away as a new door materializes on the opposite wall, from where she is leaning. She feels drawn to it, like a voice is beckoning towards it. It doesn’t trigger any of her you will die a horrific death if you enter senses. So Izzabelle makes her way across Sericon’s room to the door. Just as she arrives it swings open, all that can be seen is darkness. Stepping over the threshold, Izzabelle momentarily vanishes into it. A few seconds later the room comes into view, it seems trapped in a dusk like setting, darkness settles across the room, shadows appear to be stretching, reaching for whatever fool might try to enter. The air feels cool and crisp, Izzabelle takes a deep breath as she looks around. They’re many sets of armor like in Sericon’s room. There’s a large desk, nearby there’s shelves cabinets drawers filled with everything she could possibly need for jewel crafting. Izzabelle slowly walks around the room, taking everything in. She quickly realizes something, after searching the intire room, she sees no weapons of any sort. She turns to Sericon about to speak when she sees them. A thin pair of black obsidian bracers lay on her desk. Revealed as the shadows in the room seem to move.
She moves back over to the desk, and goes to pick them up. Yet they seem to have a mind of their own, as soon as Izzabelle reaches they jump from the desk and snap onto her wrists. Startled Izzabelle goes to grab them but isn’t fast enough, in a flash they vanish beneath her flesh, then her mind is bombarded with knowledge. With just a mere thought, two viscous looking daggers that appear to be made purely of darkness materialize in her hands. With a second thought they are coated in poison. The daggers becomes shurikensm which she send a storm of the flying across the room. They hit the wall and vanish, suddenly she is holding a scimitar, then a gun. Whatever weapon she desired would instantaneously appear in her hands, that was what the bracers did. Or at least one of the things, she felt there was more to them, and not all was for the best.
Still she was greatly enjoying switching between weapons, messing around she almost missed one of the rooms attributes. Looking up she sees it the entire ceiling is covered in webs. Izzabelle’s wings open and she takes flight, she lands a second later on one of the larger webs. She navigates it like it is second nature to her. She drops to her knees as her stomach swells to grotesque proportions. Opening her mouth fel plague spiders start pouring out, massive globs of thousands of them drop from past her lips. They hit the web and skitter off in all directions, becoming larger as they make their way across the ceiling. Soon the ceiling is alive with spiders of many shapes and sizes, ranging from no bigger than a pin dot, to the size of a warpstalker. Izzabelle takes a moment to recover before returning back down to the floor. She feels that the sac within her has become much smaller. About three quarters of the original spiders now make their home within this room. Landing next to Sericon Izzabelle smile mischievously. “On the plus side with many of my children deciding to take up residence in my room. You are less likely to have one crawl into your mouth if I kiss you.” She says smiling.
Jaseiah is afraid, she had felt the death of her sister. She goes to scream but her mouth is rapidly being filled with void tendrils, they slither down her esophagus and form twisted knots in her stomach. She can feel them moving inside of her body outside of her body. She calls upon her fel flames to try and burn them away. As they begin to burn away, she feels the clammy hands of those horrific aberrations clawing at her exposed flesh. A touch so cold that it burns, the pain exquisite as layers of flesh and muscle freeze before rotting away. They leave grotesque bloody craters throughout her body. Jaseiah tries desperately to burn those soul aberrations away, but they are so many. Screaming in her head she sets her whole body ablaze in fel flames. She doesn’t care if they consume her, she only knows that she will not let them take her. She will not be taken to that dark dismal nightmarish place. Stills disembodied hands, claw at her exposed flesh, mouths filled with jagged teeth, tear away chunks of frozen rotted flesh. One of her legs has been mostly destroyed, nearly all the flesh and muscle missing from it. What remained was frost bitten strips of fleshy tissue, that hung from the bones like old broken cobwebs.
The tentacles holding her suddenly become unstable. They start squeezing, the pressure so strong that Jaseiah is having trouble breathing. She can feel each individual rib start to crack, one by one they snap piercing her lungs and other vital organs. Being crushed, torn apart and devoured was not how she wanted to go. She feels it as her breast bone starts to fracture. The snapping of her spine, luckily left her unable to feel the continued destruction of her lower body. Jaseiah hope wherever she ends up that Ahcire will be there. The overwhelming pressure in her head has her certain it is only a matter of moments, before both her head and chest are crushes like rotting grapes.
One second she is preparing for the end, the next she is free. Or at least freed from the Void tentacles. Millions of roots and vines, rip and tear at the aberrations and tentacles. They crush, rend and mutilate them, while forming a protective cocoon around her. Jaseiah knew this magic, it had held and protected her for centuries. Her mind drifts into a healing coma as the cocoon fills with fluid. Within Yumara’s forest a large cocoon suddenly appears dangling from one of the many massive trees. Yumara looks at it for a moment, so she can see what is inside. Then she turns back towards Master and the three on the opposite side of the mirror.