[RP] Unexpected (Dis)Appearances

[Mirium-sisters-of-elune]

Mirium smiled to the friendly mage as she stepped through the portal from the Feralas outpost to Silvermoon. Though she believed she had only lost a couple days, it felt like more than a week since she had been shopping in Dalaran with her daughter, only to find herself waking up with Talthan smirking and gloating over her for falling into his trap. She shuddered to think of it and pushed the memories from her mind firmly. She was safe now. No more fear, no more regrets; she’d had enough of that! She was on her way home.

Keelath would probably be frantic of course, wondering where she had been. Mirium smiled as she thought of him, making plans–she’d have to be extra certain now that she carried a magic dampener or some other kind of ward with her whenever she left the safety of the Doomguard barracks, Dawnmist manor, or her husband’s side.

She would get through this, though. They’d both get through this, until Talthan was either locked up…or dead.

Mirium was surprised to find herself hoping fervently for the latter.

The portal’s magic enveloped her, flashing bright white and blue, and she resisted the urge–ever present when she was using a portal–to reach out and grab onto something to steady her. Soon, though, the movement of the transportation settled, and she opened her eyes. And yet, as the after-images faded from her vision, she found herself not in Silvermoon at all…

[Talthan-sisters-of-elune]

“Ya stayin quiet, an ya not strugglin. That way ya be stayin alive, mon.”

The hands grabbed Mirium’s arms from behind, so she could only guess from the accent that it was a troll. She was quickly escorted to a procession including a wheeled cage containing half a dozen prisoners, including a Pandaren and a Vulpera.

Before she had the chance to say anything, a gag was placed around her mouth, and her hands shackled behind her back before being thrown across a horse.

The next half hour was uncomfortable, with a view mostly consisting of the snowy ground and the lower half of the cage if she craned her neck far enough. The procession was led by a troll wearing furs, and followed by what appeared to be a motley assortment of brigands. One of them leered at her and told her how much fun they could have together if she decided to try to escape, before being rebuked by the Troll. It was obvious which was the leader, at least.

The conversation that followed happened behind her, and she wasn’t able to see the participants - although one was obviously the troll that had brought her here.

“Malcotin-mon, I got ya first subjects, heheheheh. Also a lil sometin’ extra. Me masta, he wantin her conditioned, ya know what I mean? Loyalty ta him, an den some instructions for her ta follow. It all be on de scroll here. I know dis not part of de agreement, so ya can be expectin’ a few extra subjects in de next batch as payment for dis.”

She was pulled roughly from the horse, and found herself facing her captors.

[Malcotin-cenarion-circle]

The frosty cold of Northrend did not affect Malcotin at all. His cold blue eyes studied the troll for barely a few seconds before he burst into an angry tirade. “How dare you treat this woman this way! You expect me to do all this when she is fully conscious and hears you giving me instructions? I am not a miracle worker!”

Malcotin set his minions to taking the wagon load of prisoners to the cages. He would need to convince Mirium he was on her side for this to work. Cursing softly under his breath at Talthan for botching what should have been a routine delivery.

He shoved the troll roughly aside and spoke directly to Mirium. “My dear, I was not expecting this, but I will help you.” he spoke gently as he untied her and removed the gag. “I will need time to sort this all out. I hope you will allow me to escort you to my lab here in Northrend. We can discuss what we can do. I will not harm you.”

He then turned to the troll. “You can tell your Master Talthan that I do not appreciate being told what to do with whoever he decides to send me. I am in control of the subjects of my research, not him!” He was trying to make this look good to Mirium. Malcotin then scribbled a short note on a scrap of parchment. Handing it to the troll, he growled. “Take this to your Master.”

The note read simply:

I would have liked a little advance warning, but what is done will have to do. Expect Mirium to do as you request. It will take some time, maybe a week or more.

He then escorted Mirium to the underground lab he had taken over from the Cultists. Inside the lab was quite sparse, but he had sectioned off part of it as a small apartment with full amenities. Wooden walls sectioned off part of the cave. A comfortable sitting area complete with a fireplace and furniture on the style of the Gilnaens. A table and two chairs was next to a wall, with a lantern overhead. Curtained off in the back was a bedroom.

“I will need some time to sort this out. Please make yourself comfortable while I make you some tea. I know this looks bad, but it is not what it seems.” He hoped she would not try to escape. He left her in the sitting area as he went to the door and indicated two guards to stand in front of it. They were softly instructed to make sure she did not leave the apartment. All of this done out of her earshot. There was no other door.

Malcotin then went to the small kitchen area and put a kettle on the stove for tea. He would make sure the rooms were warm and comfortable for his guest. He was in sight of her at all times, the apartment was very small. With his back turned to her, he made a pot of tea and brought two cups to the table. Setting the tray down on the table, he smiled at her.

“Do not be afraid, Mirium. I will have you home in no time. Have some tea and we can discuss what has happened. I fear you and your husband may think I am some kind of monster. But I am doing very important work here. I am still experimenting with the rod, and I have to work with each case on an individual basis. Keelath will need to come for more treatments, possibly at this lab, where I can do some controlled experiments. That is the only way I can help him.”

[Mirium-sisters-of-elune]

Her heart crashed against her chest like an animal against a cage when she was seized. Mirium tested the troll’s strength carefully as he hustled her along, leaning this way or that or not planting her feet where he expected, to see how quickly he recovered. It made little difference. He was much too big and too strong for her, and she was already tired from her long ordeal without food or water in Talthan’s…whatever that thing had been.

Stupid, stupid woman. I should have contacted Keelath on the hearthstone first…not just blindly trusted some random Horde mage with a portal…!

She knew well that struggling and kicking up a fuss was only likely to bring more cruelty her way, even if she could have outmatched the troll in a physical altercation. So, instead, Mirium went meekly along with his instructions. After being tossed over the back of the horse, she buried her hands in its thick fur to try and protect them from the biting cold as they moved–where were they going?

There was no telling. She tucked her head against her own shoulder, trying to hide her face against the chill, and against the situation. She imagined herself in her own tiny, safe world: no larger than the fall of her hair and the wooshing breath of the horse’s ribs underneath her. Mirium’s world, where no one tried to hurt or control her anymore. Where she was safe; where she was free.

So it was that she stumbled and nearly fell once she was dumped back on the ground, the shock of the snow on her bare feet disorienting her. She was still, still wearing that awful purple dress of Talthan’s, and she felt a flash of anger at the hateful thing, even as she jumped from foot to foot, trying to warm her bare toes against the back of her knees.

So she was a little bit grateful, though still very wary, when Malcotin brought her indoors to a warm apartment. Without answering him, she crossed quickly over to the bed and wrapped herself in its blankets, as much to hide as to warm herself. She dragged them off the bed entirely, then, wanting to be able to move with them if she had to and not be confined to the furniture.

Terror threatened to overwhelm her. Her safe world had expanded to the confines of the blankets, and she literally had some better breathing room. Deep breaths. Think. Survival first, worry later. Warmth was most important now. And then… As Malcotin turned away, Mirium lifted her head just a smidge from the blankets, searching the room, trying to figure out what could be used for a weapon, and what were her options of escape.

The door to the small apartment was probably guarded. There were no windows. Perhaps if the fire was allowed to die down, she could crawl up the chimney? But what then? If they were in the middle of nowhere, she’d need warm clothing and food and a heading if she didn’t want to freeze or starve to death in a trackless wilderness–oh, Void take this dress!

Her thoughts were interrupted as Malcotin neared her again, offering her a cup of tea. She eyed it muzzily, just barely comprehending what he was saying to her. Her trust for him was hovering around zero after hearing what he had said to the troll, but she was very thirsty. She had refrained from eating or drinking anything while in Talthan’s…headquarters…due the very real fear he had had it drugged. The Horde outpost in Feralas had given her some water and hard tack out of charity, but not nearly enough–she had expected to be able to sate herself once back in Silvermoon.

The last thing she wanted to do was drink Malcotin’s offered tea, but as she looked up and studied his face, it occurred to Mirium he was trying very hard to gain her trust. Perhaps if she feigned granting it, then perhaps he’d let down his guard, and let something slip she could use. She was under no illusion that she could fight him, no more than she could have the troll, but could she outsmart him…?

Not for nothing had she been raised as a bard…

Mirium forced her muscles to relax, giving Malcotin an intentional, agonized look before covering her head in the blankets and letting out several sobs, that she hoped would be convincing. She didn’t actually cry; she couldn’t waste the moisture…

Right, moisture. Mirium needed a drink, and not anything that might be drugged. A tea could easily cover the flavor of something nasty. So she quickly made up a lie–or half of one.

“Please, help me. I’m so thirsty. He hasn’t given me anything to drink for a day! I just want some water–please. Not tea. I can’t–I couldn’t stand tea after what he tried to do. Please!”

If the tea wasn’t drugged, then no harm was done. If it was, this would probably only goad him to find some other way to get the compound into her–oh. She swallowed another sob with that thought. Don’t overdo it. Don’t seem like you’re rebelling. Just be…distraught.

She could pretend at being distressed very, very well at this point. It was practically method acting.

[Malcotin-cenarion-circle]

The drugged tea would not do much good if she did not drink it. Malcotin shrugged. “It’s perfectly safe, my dear. I have no reason to poison you. But if you prefer water, then I will get you that.” he was calm. He needed to convince her he was not going to harm her.

Going back across the room, he dipped water out of the bucket standing by the sink. It was melted snow, which was plentiful in Northrend. Of course the ones collecting it were ghouls who just gathered whatever snow was close by. Bringing her the cold cup, he set it down on the table. “Here you go, freshly melted snow from the many drifts surrounding the cave. I instruct my minions to gather only freshly fallen and pure white snow. Of course the tea is hot and delicious, I am drinking it myself. As you can see I have two steaming cups on the table. Your choice of course.”

He then rummaged in a chest that was near the bed. “I will find you something warmer to wear. I can tell you are not prepared for the cold.” He pulled out several items of clothing. They ranged in size from very small (gnome or goblin sized), to the largest being suitable for a Tauren or Draenei.

“These are mostly cast off from the cultists who used to inhabit this small fortress. It was my pleasure to eliminate them. They were careless and vindictive. I saved them because they may come in handy some day. It looks like there are several here that might fit you. Please take your pick when ready. There are boots here in the closet that might fit your dainty feet. Again, cast offs from the cultists. I guess we cannot be too choosy this far from Dalaran. When you are warmly dressed and comfortable, we can discuss a way to get you home.”

[Mirium-sisters-of-elune]

She drank the water. She had no idea where it had come from, any better than the tea, but hopefully, if it was drugged, she’d be able to taste what was wrong with it. After the first few sips proved to taste of nothing but good water, she wasn’t able to hold on to her self-control: she gulped down the rest of the water almost quickly enough to give herself a brain freeze.

When she saw the clothes, Mirium almost forgot her wariness again. After snatching up one fur-lined robe, she schooled herself to calm down and go through the others, with hesitance befitting someone fearful and tentative. She chose a couple of the garments, putting one on immediately over her dress, and bundling up the other and stashing it under the bed. It seemed too calculating a move for her “character”, so she cast in several worried glances at Malcotin, and then sat up front of the hidden coat, as if thinking she had managed to hide it without his noticing and now wished to keep it from his view in case he snatched it away from her again. She repeated a similar manuever to gain herself two pairs of good boots.

The tea was still untouched, and she watched him with wariness not entirely an act as he broached the subject of her going home. Nor did she have to feign the mistiness that sprung to her eyes at the thought. She dabbed them with careful dignity, added a sniffle for good measure, then said, “N-no p-portals please. I do want to be home though…soon. Real soon.”

[Malcotin-cenarion-circle]

As much as he wanted to laugh at her hiding things on him, Malcotin did nothing to stop her. In fact, he very discretely busied himself in the kitchen, so she could change without his prying eyes. He waited until she sat at the table wearing what she wished to wear and then joining her there.

“I am sorry to hear of your suffering. Did this person also starve you? Tell me all about it. Perhaps I can help you. If nothing else, let me give you a chance to fix something of your choosing from my cupboards. I keep them fully stocked, including unopened cans of fruit, meat and vegetables. You can see they come from the stores in Dalaran. The closest reliable source of non contaminated food.” He ignored mentioning the Argent Tournament grounds to the east of them. He was not sure if she was able to see them from where she had been bound to the saddle of the horse. Even so, they were not that close, and he preferred to stay away from them.

He picked up his cup of tea and sipped on it. “I am sure you are wondering what use I have for prisoners? My research is very important. Most of them will be treated well and released. Mainly I just need some tissue samples and blood. I feed them good food and they are not made to suffer. I would allow you to watch, but I am more concerned with getting you home safely.”

He paused to let her drink, knowing she still did not trust him. He smiled, trying to be as non threatening as he could possibly be. It occurred to him that she had not seen him in his human form. Most Sindorei had only seen the worgen in their full worgen rage, which was very intimidating all on it’s own. “I would let you see my human side, if it would help you to relax.”

Malcotin stood and moved a few feet from the table. Muttering a few short words in Gilnaen, he simply shrank down to human height and a cloud of magical vapor surrounded him briefly as he lost his fur and stood before her as a handsome man of middle years, with dark hair touched with a distinguised bit of grey, and a fashionable goatee and mustache. He was still dressed in the fine Gilnaen nobles attire, complete down to the boots.

“Is this better, my dear?” he smiled and bowed low to her.

[Mirium-sisters-of-elune]

Mirium’s stomach rumbled when he mentioned the food, and, she swore, louder when he mentioned it was still canned. She was on her feet and heading towards the cupboards to see for herself when he mentioned his prisoners.

She turned halfway back, keeping her eyes on the floor, as if everything would be revealed if she made eye contact. “Um. I didn’t think too hard about it, actually.” That, at least, was true. Just the presence of the prisoners made her aware Malcotin was not as nice as he seemed, and his words didn’t do much to convince her otherwise. She let her eyes flicker up to him and then away anyway, as if they had consoled her.

She couldn’t help but stare as he turned back into a human. She knew that some worgen retained the ability to shift into their human forms, but she had never actually seen it happen.

When he bowed to her she quickly averted her eyes, turning back to rifling through the cupboards. She debated on how much of the cans she could carry if she were to bundle them in the spare coat and sling them on her back. As it was, she took down a can of potatoes and of beans–calorie-rich foods–and worked on opening them.

“Um,” she said shyly in reply to his question. “I’m sorry, he–yes, he did starve me. I’m hungry…” She added a note of desperation, including banging the can of potatoes on the counter as if it wasn’t opening fast enough.

“When can I go home?”

[Malcotin-cenarion-circle]

It was hard not to laugh at the nearly helpless female. “You could use the can opener there in the drawer, along with other utensils. There are pots hanging up over the stove, and I just fired it up recently, so it is still hot. I will add more wood to it for you.”

He proceeded to grab some wood from the stack near the wood stove and chucked a few pieces into the firebox. “These will burn slowly. I have some ham if you want some meat. It’s just outside in the shed, to keep it cold. I find Northrend is great for food storage.”

The lab was in another room, and he had that locked. His main closet had some of his tools on a rack, but his main instrument, the rod, was locked up in the lab. Malcotin watched as she worked on making herself food.

[Mirium-sisters-of-elune]

“This is fine,” said Mirium softly. “Thank you.” She rifled around for the can opener, setting it away in one of the coat’s pockets when she was done with it. She wiped down one of the pots before putting it on the stove, then heaped it as high with different vegetables from the cans as she dared. She was HUNGRY, and it smelled good as it began to cook.

She stirred, glancing at him every so often through the corner of her eyes. She didn’t offer him any, but dished herself a meal’s worth, then set the rest to simmering. Cooked down, the vegetables would make a passable travel food.

[Malcotin-cenarion-circle]

It was very obvious to Malcotin, he would have to resort to using the rod on Mirium. However, he wanted her to be relaxed and receptive rather than fighting him at every turn. He sat in the chair and watched her as she cooked. Every move he made, to shift position or to lift his cup of tea got her immediate attention. She was not making it easy for him in the least.

Finally, he rose from the chair and announced. “I will let you continue to eat your fill while I go back to my research. You are free to wander the apartment, rest, or do whatever. In the morning, I will take you to Dalaran, where you can find someone to get you home. I know you do not trust me. So I will not offer to take you home myself.”

With that, he went out the only door to the outside and shut it behind him. He motioned to his guards to keep her from leaving and went to his lab. Two burly death knights stood guard in front of the door, one a balding Human, the other a tall brooding Night elf. They nodded and saluted him with respect.

In the lab, he unlocked the cabinet where he had the rod stored and took out the case. He filled the hollow center of the rod with the blood he had stored from one of his earlier experiments. Then, affixing a deep red garnet to the end, he chanted a short spell, and the gem glowed with a malevolence that boded ill for anyone subjected to it’s effects.

He slid one end of the rod into his coat sleeve and left the gem hidden in his palm as he went back to the main area. Ghouls and other minions worked in the caves, mining saronite and making specialized armor for the death knights in Malcotin’s growing army. Malcotin leaned on the wall opposite the door to his apartment and waited for Mirium to try and escape.

[Mirium-sisters-of-elune]

Mirium counted silently in her head as she heard Malcotin leave, waiting until he must be far enough away for her to move. She finished her dinner, sating herself, but not filling herself to the brim, for it was harder to run on a full stomach.

She then turned back to the pot and the cans, and began packing the food into the other coat she had stashed under the bed, tying it up in a knot with the sleeves and then using a pair of leggings to fasten shoulder straps. She added one of the blankets, and a few sticks from beside the fireplace. It wouldn’t last through a night, but they’d be enough to start a fire if she came across more wood, or serve as a torch in a pinch.

She only had to wait then for the fire to go out, so she could attempt to crawl up the chimney. It would take some hours. So, she arranged herself on the bed to doze, her bundle of travel goods under her, where she would feel it if anyone tried to steal them away from her.

It turned out to be pretty difficult to try and get some sleep. Mirium watched the fire through slit eyes and listened to her own breathing. If Malcotin hadn’t come back by now, then surely she had the rest of the night to herself. She should sleep to regain some strength, but the memories of the past couple of days kept swirling around in her head…

[Malcotin-cenarion-circle]

After some hours, it became clear to Malcotin that she might have fallen asleep. He had busied himself with other things that needed supervising in the main area, assigning his minions to various tasks to keep them busy. Finally, he went back to the apartment and cautiously opened the door. Peering inside he noted the fire had almost gone out, but not quite. The stove was still alive with hot embers. He looked over at the alcove to see Mirium in the bed, almost buried in the blankets.

He went to the stove and added more wood and emptied the ash pan into a bin. “Are you awake? It is almost time to take you home.” He spoke softly. If she was asleep, he could try using the rod on her. It mattered not to him if she was awake or not. The rod never failed to control anyone he set it to. She did not respond, though he suspected she was feigning sleep.

Listening to any sound from her other than breathing, he slid the rod out a ways and pointed it at her sleeping form. “Audi vocem meam, et relaxat. Noli resistere meæ. Et facite praecepta vivere, et mori pugnare. Aut modo, nunc mea es tu.” He spoke firmly.

The red garnet blazed a brilliant hue, and the spell took effect almost immediately. He had commanded her to obey him or die. Even if she had been faking her sleep, he would now be able to give her commands she would listen to and remember.

“Mirium, you are now relaxed and will listen to my words. You will do as I say, and you will not deviate.” He spoke softly, but with the air of command that never failed to impress upon his subjects that dire consequences would occur if they did not obey. Malcotin then took the scroll out of his pocket and proceeded to impress upon Mirium all the things that Talthan wished from her. He repeated it once more, to embed it clearly on her mind.

Malcotin then added the final command. “Get out of bed and make ready to leave. I will take you to Dalaran and release you there. You will use one of the portals in the Horde section to go back to your home.”

He did not wait for a response. Knowing the rod would embed in her the absolute control he demanded. Satisfied, he left the apartment to summon his newest servant. “George, you are to take this message to Talthan. This is the address I was given to deliver any messages. You may wait for a return message.”

The note simply said, Your recent request has been fulfilled, I will deliver her to Dalaran and she will go home and follow through on the demands of the scroll.

George took the note and set off immediately to find Talthan, wherever he was.