[RP] A Meeting in the Legerdemain

Cenarion Circle and Sisters of Elune
21

“Stench?” Keelath sounds annoyed, but he doesn’t walk away. “It’s not freedom from rot. This flesh I’ve regrown myself, with unholy magic. But the…patterns the old Lich King would have us follow were not exactly concerned with eating or drinking anything other than our foes and their blood.” He bares his teeth again.

“I’m not sure about this,” Mirium says softly.

“If you can give me new patterns…” says Keelath.

“It will make your hungrier,” says Mirium, a little louder.

“And how do you manage regrowth?” Keelath says, a little louder still.

Mirium narrows her eyes, touching Keelath’s arm, but saying nothing else. …nor does Keelath fully ignore her, putting his hand on top of hers, though Mirium still looks concerned–and vaguely annoyed herself, now.

22

A smile forms on Malcotin’s face as it dawns on him. “You are more concerned with the mental effects? Ah yes, I can understand that very well. Odd that you should mention that, it was one of the things that my mentor worked on first. The endless thirst for blood.”

Malcotin looked up as the bartender approached. “There you are, good fellow. I have grown hungry in the last hour and I would like to offer my new friends a taste of my hospitality. Do be so kind as to lend us your private dining room?” He turned in query to Mirium as the bartender went to check the reservations list.

“I understand that this might seem counter productive to you, but I do have a remedy, if you will allow me to demonstrate it?” He glanced at Keelath. “I will explain at dinner. I will need to gather some things from my laboratory. It will take me some time. If you are not available tonight, then perhaps tomorrow?”

The bartender returned to note there was an open slot in an hour, and the staff would need time to prepare. The following night was not booked past seven o clock.

23

Keelath nodded, trying to conceal his eagerness–and doing so pretty well, given his long practice. “I would be glad to attend.”

“Keelath? Can I talk to you for a minute?” says Mirium, still softly.

24

It was clear the couple needed time alone to discuss all of Malcotin’s revelations. “Of course, I expect the two of you to have questions and discuss things. I will return in a few hours and we can have dinner in the private dining room upstairs. If you have any food preferences, Mrs. Sunwalker, please let the Maitre de know. I usually have steak and roasted potatoes and a salad. Wine will be the house wine with dinner. For now, I will leave you to return to my lab.” He bowed deeply and then left a few gold on the bar for the bartender and went out the front door.

It was only later as he cleaned up and dressed for dinner that he considered the wisdom of taking on two elves for his experiments. He needed the data, and he was glad one of them was undead while the other was not. It would give perspective on his general theory.

Gathering a small bit of equipment he would need for the hypnosis, he whistled cheerfully as he made his way leisurely back to the Lounge.

25

Mirium bristled a little at Malcotin’s parting words, but she gave a polite nod anyway, and withdrew to the other side of the room to await her husband.

Keelath thanked the man and then joined Mirium. “What is it?” There was impatience in his voice. Mirium just stopped and looked at him hard.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Keelath.”

Keelath frowned. “But what he can offer…all the things we’ve talked about. All the most pressing problems–he has answers.”

“Doesn’t that make it even more suspicious?” Mirium asked with a wince. “Talthan was last seen in this city. He could be anywhere, making more plots…”

“If he is, then he’s truly obsessed,” Keelath said dryly.

“Do you doubt me?”

Keelath took a careful breath–more to make a point than to actually breathe, of which he no longer needed to do. “…no. No, I don’t. But what other options do we have? Truly? Even if he is a con artist, there may be something to learn here.”

Mirium shrugged. “We have Ayo’s temple and his Loa of All Names. The magic that exorcised Evelos and let him heal his body and soul. The Light…”

Keelath looked stony. “I would at least listen to what this man has to say. If it is the real thing…”

“I won’t challenge you on that,” Mirium said wearily. “Just, please, be careful. We’re not that long out of the war, and people might remember you for who you served–try to take advantage of you for it.”

“I have the Doomguard to back me.”

“Yes,” said Mirium softly. “And they are good people. But…” She looked down at the floor.

“Mirium?” Despite his irritation, he knew she wouldn’t be making such a big deal of it if she wasn’t truly concerned. He took a step closer to her, reaching for her hand.

“Just be careful,” Mirium said.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

Keelath frowned. “Honestly, yes. You are my wife, and this affects you, does it not? Nor am I going to keep you in the dark like Talthan did…or how I did while I served…her.” He closed his eyes in a wince. “I will not make that mistake again.”

“…thank you, dalah’surfal.” She really meant it. She took his offered hand and brought it to her chest, leaned into him.

“Um,” grunted Keelath, putting an arm about her by old reflex, but he didn’t feel her warmth, or smell her scent beyond that which all living beings gave off to him: of food and blood. But if Malcotin could change that… “We made a promise to each other that we would beat this curse of undeath, whatever it took. This is my fulfilling of that promise.”

“I know, dear.”

“There’s nothing I can say to convince you?”

“You know the answer to that already, dearheart.”

“Cursed woman.”

“Yes.”

They stood together for a while, holding each other, their physical closeness communicating what their words could not. Then, leaving a kiss in her hair, Keelath made his way towards the rooms indicated by Malcotin for their dinner. With only a slight hesitance, Mirium followed after him.

26

Upstairs in the private dining room, Malcotin surveyed the table. Covered in a pristine white cloth and set with the Lounge’s best dinnerware and crystal goblets, the centerpiece of red roses in a ceramic vase made it perfect.

He waited patiently for the Sunwalkers to join him. Musing slightly as he reviewed the story he had told them of his rise into undeath. There was a lot more to the story of course. How his tormenter had bought him from the Forsaken and then taken him to Northrend to be tortured in her private lab in this very city.

His teeth bared slightly as the memories haunted him of her deals with demons, and the entry into the very Fortress of Icecrown. She had seen the capabilities of the death knights and wanted him to be such. Of course, she wanted also to own him, to control him as the Lich King would.

The brandy snifter in his hand was in dire danger of being shattered, so he put it down and lit his pipe instead. The fragrant smoke filled the small room and relaxed him a bit. If he was to gain control of this couple in order to further his studies, he would have to gain their sympathy and trust. Inwardly, he growled at having to stoop to such, when all around him, others flourished with their own deals. Malcotin did not make deals with demons. He knew how deceitful they were, having learned that first hand. Nevertheless, he needed more data, and they would be a good start.

Hearing the footfalls and the soft murmur of his guests approaching, he schooled his dignified face into a semblance of serenity. The waitress showed them in and offered a choice of beverage.

“Good evening, so glad you chose to join me. The privacy here will allow me to give you further details of my research and needs, as well as what I can offer you.” He greeted them with a warm smile, offering his hand to Keelath and a deep bow to Mirium.

1 Like
27

Keelath takes the hand and shakes it, spending a bit longer this time as he feels the unnatural (for an undead) warmth and wonders what it’s about. Mirium does a shadow of a curtsy, as she might at a sin’dorei court.

“I take it the privacy is necessary?” asks Mirium, though if she means to score points on anyone with the statement, it’s probably her husband.

Keelath politely doesn’t reply, inspecting the room before taking a seat at the table. “You have certainly gone to a lot a trouble,” he says, and if there’s anything he’s subtly acknowledging, it’s his wife’s suspicions this might be a set up.

Both statements are said with the gentility of aristocratic elves, who have played the intrigue game for centuries; though one might get the impression they are playing against each other just as much as Malcotin this time.

28

The handshake was a telling sign. Keelath was curious, that much was certain. But the game was on now, and Malcotin had to move carefully. “The trouble is not mine, to be fair, the staff here aim to please. I only asked for privacy. As to why? I feel like the things I do might trouble some people, so I prefer to keep those who know to a minimum. You know as well as I do, Keelath, that death knights are not exactly socially popular. They like us around in battle, that is for sure.” He chuckled.

“Please be seated. I ordered my food already, if you would like to tell the waitress what strikes your fancy, please feel free to indulge, it’s on me!” He held the chair for Mirium, as a gentleman would and sat across from her so Keelath could sit next to her.

There was very little chatter or noise coming from downstairs and it was pretty clear they were private. Malcotin glanced between them. “I can tell you are both nervous and wary. Please ask any questions you have and I will do my best to set your minds at ease.”

29

Mirium ordered a complicated dish–something that most novice cooks usually couldn’t handle–perhaps as a way of making sure the food really did come from the Lounge’s staff and any tampering would be more obvious. Still, it was with ease that she joined Keelath at the table, even showing some camaraderie with him by linking fingers with his under the table cloth.

“You have me at disadvantage,” Keelath growled at Malcotin’s last statement. “So maybe you should simply explain. How does this work? What have you already accomplished? And what part are you wanting us to play in it?”

30

There was suspicion and yet the curiosity was still there. “There are many things I could tell you. About my state of being, and how I came to be thus. I have been experimenting for over 20 years now, both before I was captured and after I escaped. The time in between I spent learning all I could. As you both know, necromancy is deeply frowned upon. Yet it keeps us alive, and the Forsaken as well. We would not be here without it. And yet it does not have to be all wicked and evil. You are a death knight, Keelath and you keep yourself going with your skills. Learned from the best at Acherus, as did I. Yes, I spent time with the Unholy Lich King.” he growled the last part. “But like you, I broke away from his control, and I have my freedom.”

Malcotin poured himself a glass of Dalaran red and offered to pour for Mirium and Keelath. “I am different, in that I have learned to use my skills at alchemy, and some magic, including the dreaded blood magic. You know it is the most powerful magic? Underused mostly because it is fueled with blood. To have a steady supply, you need either herd animals you can access easily or a steady supply from battlefields.”

He sat back and savored his wine. Glancing between them and trying to judge their opinion on his confession. “My tormenter was an alchemist as well, and she was doing some rather remarkable work on giving the undead more lifelike features and reactions. Not always easy in Undercity, where all she had to work with was mostly rotting, walking corpses. Which is why she brought me here to Dalaran. It was here she set up a lab, to work with the residents of the area. She was friends with some magisters and some…warlocks. But she had some special friends in Icecrown.” He paused to let that sink in.

31

“So maybe you didn’t break away from the Lich King as well as you thought,” grumbles Keelath, put out by being told he was still under the Lich King’s sway. Mirium gave him a gentle elbow. “You are one of the undead, then, that can survive off of the blood of beasts. That isn’t something I can do. If I could, that alone would be a weight off my shoulders.”

32

“Not me, my friend, I was merely a slave dragged along as…fodder…” He rubbed his neck and growled. “She was fascinated by the fact I was not only immune to the Scourge infections and could not be turned undead, but by the fact the San’Layn could snack on me and I would not become a vampire!”

He grumbled at the memories and set his glass of wine down. “She made deals with demons! And the San’Layn! I was there as witness! They tortured me for days. Then when it seemed the sweet release of death had freed me…I awoke in Acherus. Horrified beyond reason. I could not…though I tried to resist him. He…he offered me hope. Told me I could kill all my enemies, even the ones who had left me there, dead and discarded like trash. Oh he was aware. He knew what she had done.” he growled deep in his throat.

It took several minutes of breathing deeply and concentration for Malcotin to calm down. “Forgive me, Keelath. You know what it is like. When the Battle for Light’s hope started, I was all ready to find her and kill her. But we had to win that battle…for the Master.” He poured more wine.

About then, the food arrived and Malcotin sat back to allow them to think about what he had said.

33

Keelath didn’t let his feelings show on his face, though Mirium winced slightly as he gripped her hand tightly. The only emotion shown, a couple minutes later, was him bowing his head, as if in silent reverence for the dead.

“And so, even when you awoke, you were different?” he eventually asks, still as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.

Mirium, on the other hand, looks agonized, but lets her husband take the lead in the conversation. She bows her head and strokes Keelath’s hand. The change is subtle, a slight loosening of the shoulders and a smoothing of the lines around his eyes, but Keelath relaxes into it. He looks at her.

“One day I’ll tell you what it was like,” he said softly, “even though it’s something I hoped you’d never have to hear.”

Mirium swallowed. “I told you before, dalah’surfal. I fought the Scourge when you were–when they invaded. I saw plenty of the horrors.”

“Different, on the other end,” is all that Keelath says in reply, though he closes both hands around hers gratefully. “Forgive me,” he says to Malcotin. “Continue.”

34

The meal was in front of them and Malcotin felt obliged to let Mirium eat. “I will continue, if you will let your wife eat…” he grinned. “She ordered one of the fanciest things on the menu. Do let her enjoy it, even if you cannot. Though I will tell you, food to me is as it always has been.”

He set to work on his steak, cutting into the juicy beef with little regard to the fact it was on the rare side. “I must say, I do believe it is partly because of my unique physiology. As a Worgen, it is my innate nature to hunt and kill for food. I do believe that part of the reason I am closer to being alive is the fact I was raised very nearly within an hour of my death. My bodily functions were only interrupted for a short time.” He paused to look over at Mirium. “Forgive me, but I must tell it as it was, for you and Keelath to understand. I can wait until you are finished with dinner if you like?”

35

“I suppose that would make sense,” says Keelath slowly. “I was in the grave for nearly a decade. Most of this flesh is reconstructive.” He watches the two of them, jealousy thinly veiled as he watches Malcotin tear into his meat with obvious pleasure.

“Don’t worry on my account,” says Mirium, though she does slow what was a battlefield-learned shoveling-of-rations into her mouth into a more ladylike pace.

36

Malcotin smiled at Mirium, “It is obvious to me you have a strong stomach and a hearty appetite.” He let her nearly finish her meal as he wolfed down his steak. Then he lifted his wineglass, and offered a toast to Keelath. “I applaud your resolve and your continued marriage. Not all of us have been that lucky. To the ones who came back from the Lich King’s control.”

He resumed his tale, “The Necromancers at Acherus were not able to raise me themselves, it took Arthas and that damned Frostmourne to bring me to my feet. He controlled me with that damned sword. It was so powerful, it did not allow me to even consider disobedience. I was shoved into armor and taught to fight, no niceties or preparation. They set me loose on those poor people in Havenshire…I had no choice, his words echoed in my ears. Kill or be killed was a litany I could not ignore.” His face more somber now.

Turning his gaze to Mirium, he began softly. “When you are under someone else’s control, you suffer as much as your victims. Deep inside, the guilt and the horror fester. The only way to survive, was to do as you were told. We were lucky, that Tirion Fordring as able to break Arthas’ concentration, long enough to make all of us, including the Highlord Mograine, realize what fools we had been.”

Malcotin sat back, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he felt in better control, he looked straight at Keelath. “Tell me, brother in arms. Were we freed then? Were we vindicated? Were we then turned loose only to set us on a course to fight and kill Scourge the rest of our misbegotten lives? Are we ever truly free?” he whispered.

37

Mirium returns Malcotin’s gaze levelly. Her eyes hold empathy, but she says nothing, still stroking Keelath’s hand. When Malcotin’s gaze turns back to Keelath, she drops her chin towards her chest and takes a soft breath, as if to steady herself.

“I only heard about the fight at Light’s Hope Chapel through rumor,” Keelath admits. “I was freed much earlier, thanks to…” He hesitates, and amends his words. “…I was freed earlier with the rest of the Forsaken in Lordaeron. I was raised without memory, and it took me the better part of this last war regaining sense of who I had even been before my death.” He turns in his chair to run a hand through Mirium’s hair, and they meet each others’ eyes. “I knew early on I had a wife and son, but I didn’t know their names or faces–or even that they were elven, at one point in time. I was concerned only with survival. We all were.” He looks back at Malcotin, face hard. “Some say what the Forsaken did then was atrocity. It wasn’t that way to us; instead, everyone wished to massacre us instead because of the resemblance we bore the Scourge. The Horde extended peace to us when the Alliance did not, but for many years we were still no better than cannon fodder to the orcs. If anyone wonders why the undead care little for the living, maybe they should look no further than that.” He bares his teeth. Mirium coughs, and he relents, though he still looks angry. “…I suppose that didn’t really answer your question,” he finally ends with.

38

Nodding in sympathy, Malcotin ponders for a moment. “It’s very sad, isn’t it? These wars have done nothing to help anyone.” He takes a deep breath. “When I broke free from Arthas, I went back to find her…but she was cunning, the heartless…” he stopped to avoid saying words that would definitely offend.

Running fingers through his dark hair, he continued. “She caught me, with some of her San’Layn friends. They used something on me…you might have seen or heard of it. Called a Domination Rod. Normally used on the dead, it works only too well on an Undead. I found myself under her control, yet again…” he was barely holding his anger in check now.

“For six months, she…used me…to kill her enemies, to entertain her friends, and to experiment still further. It was those six months that were the hardest. I knew it would be almost impossible to escape while she held that rod. It was not perfect. There is only so much power that it can use before it needs recharging. In between her sessions, I was locked in a cage.”

He stood then and paced, back and forth as he gathered his thoughts. “When she was arrested, well…I told you about that. I was able to return to Acherus then and to the Ebon Blade. After the Lich King was destroyed, I felt free for the first time in many years. It was then that I went back to my former studies of Undeath. I was able to use her research as well. Though it was horribly obtained, the data is still valuable.”

He ordered brandy then and sat back down. “I have been thinking of what I could do for you, Keelath. You expressed a desire to control your urges to kill and cause suffering? I believe I can help with that. But to return you closer to the living might prove nearly impossible. The amount of time you spent in the grave…too much damage has been done. The only thing that would even have a possibility to work would be what Sylvanus did to Nathanos. I am sure you would not want that…or would you?” he tilted his head to observe the elf.

39

Mirium looks uncomfortable with the mention of Sylvanas, glancing at Keelath as if to see if he’s taking offense to it. Keelath, for his part, is ignoring it.

“I’m not entirely aware of what went on with the Ranger Lord,” Keelath replies. “The bloodlust is the most pressing, yes. I can live with the flesh I have, but I use what I feed on to repair it. I believe the Lich King wanted us to be…motivated…to fight in his wars, and so only sentient flesh seems to work.”

40

Malcotin fingered his pipe and thought about that while he filled it and lit it. Drawing smoke from the pipe and letting it drift, he finally nodded briefly. “I can do something, but it might not be very comfortable for you. I should explain, as I bring out my equipment.”

He reached under the chair and brought out a large wooden case, it looked much like a musical instrument case. Dark brown wood, polished to a sheen, about two feet long and only about six inches wide. Setting it on the now cleared table, he opened it to reveal a dark glass rod with a fixture on one end and a row of gems along side of it neatly nestled into felt depressions.

“This is what my tormenter used on me. I was able to grab it on my way out of her lab when her minions released me. They intended on using me to fight the Magisters, but I fled instead, along with her Imp, who insisted on going with me.” he gave a growl of distaste.

“I had no intentions of keeping that creature around, but he was able to help me get across the Plagued Lands, until he was caught and banished.”

He paused to run a finger along the length of the rod. It lit up as he mumbled something. The glass rod was an empty tube and it looked like it was fairly fragile. “It needs blood to work properly.”

“The rod has been altered. As you can see, the gem normally in the fixture is not permanent. Through many years of experimentation, I was able to tune it to work with different gems and acheive some very interesting effects. Along with the blood magic, I can control your urges and dampen them down to a respectable level.” He glanced at Mirium and gave her a slight grin. “Any blood will do, even that of a rodent. Only a few ounces will be needed.”