Stolen Crystal [RP/IC] [Closed]

Myorga rolled her eyes and huffed as she walked in the direction of the void elf. As she passed Vesthi, she muttered, “At least you had a choice…” and continued without waiting for a response.

A glaive whizzed between them and embedded itself in the wall which caused Myorga to jump. She snapped in the direction that the glaive came from only to see Aanka some distance away, and missing a glaive. Her eyes glowed yellow again and she took a few seconds to pause and breathe deeply and calm herself. Then she marched over to the glaive and with one smooth motion, she yanked it from its resting place and let it drop to the floor and continued on to the table where the void elf was sitting.

Myorga kicked one chair and spun it around and straddled it backwards, leaning on the back of the chair and facing the table where the void elf was sitting. She glared at the portal above the table and then glanced at the elf. “Do you think that weapon would fit in there?”, she asked, pointing at the portal itself.

The two elves had been watching the whole exchange silently, Orlok’s form never moving or flinching until it was all over. The sounds of Orlok’s heavy blackrock boots trudged across the tavern to where the glaive was dropped. In a single motion he wordlessly picked it up and took it with him back to where Nil was as she finished her work. She sighed as she looked concerned at her father as he sat the glaive down with a loud thud on the table.

“Father please tell me you aren’t going to keep her weapon to antagonize her.”
“No. It is obvious that that one has some issues with control. I will hold on to this weapon until such time that it can safely be returned to her possession or someone of better temperament.”
“That’s antagonizing her.”
“It is for the safety of this mission. She cannot be trusted with this weapon if she uses it like this in anger.”

The flat metalic voice coming out of the helm only made Nil sigh harder as she rubbed her temples. Yes her father made sense and it was indeed out of his caution of everyone. But his way of doing it, and saying it without remorse could cause issues.

Vesthi watched the Druid, waiting for the argument. What she’d said was harsh and incendiary, but nonetheless true according to her beliefs. Her spectral vision may have been fuzzy, but she could clearly see when the Druid turned to leave. Retreating rather than standing her ground. Sound strategy or an ill omen. Vesthi couldn’t decide. She watched then as the Druid turned in a flash and flung her glaive in Vesthi’s direction. The Demon Hunter had faced down more dire threats than this, and true to her vocation remained unmoved. The glaive arced in the short distance and crashed into the wooden wall not far from where Vesthi sat. The Demon Hunter in turn remained motionless. Staring her veiled featureless gaze at the Night Elf Druid. Petulant child, was the only verbal response that came to mind, yet she remained silent. Staring.

Vesthi remained so while the others made their move. The worgen playing human muttered something about choice. Vesthi could have a rousing discussion on that topic another time. She remained where she was seated as the darkly armored man came to retrieve the glaive, and Vesthi was silently thankful he did. Least the Demon Hunter be tempted to return the favor, and rest assured she wouldn’t deliberately miss. As the darkly armored man returned to his table with the weapon, Vesthi then moved. It was slight.

The Demon Hunter slid her crossed legs apart, sliding the heel of one only just beneath her. She rotated her shoulders just enough to better face the Druid. With one clawed hand Vesthi gripped the table ledge. At a glance one might mistake her for simply relaxing. Those more apt and capable among them may instead see Vesthi, her poise and posture, for what she really was. An apex predator assessing her prey. Her other hand still gripped the vial of fel liquid. Her thumb dancing with the vial’s stopper, tempted to unleash the latent power of that concoction.

Kawisa had turned around at hearing the weapon thrown across the room. He narrowed his eyes at the druid.

Some protector of balance she is. Raiku scoffed.

Even druids are allowed to be emotional. Kawisa countered.

If that’s being ‘emotional’ I’m the picture of serenity.

Kawisa ignored the drakes snide remarks as the human hunter approached, at least, he assumed she was human. He really never knew at this point.

In response to her question. “Certainly. Especially if I expand the gateway. I try to keep it as small as possible. The crystals only hold a certain amount of magic before they need to be recharged and I don’t feel like maintaining a portal and take inventory.” He replied. To further show his point, he reached inside the portal and grabbed the base of a black staff. He then carefully pulled it back through the portal. The top of the staff possessed a swirling ball of shadow flame enchanted within Rune-scribed metal pieces that floated around the orb.

“After all, this thing fits inside.” He showed as he set the staff against the wall. Miraculously, the wooden wall didn’t combust into flame given how close the core of fire was to it. The softly glowing runes would imply they had something to do with keeping the destruction at bay… for now.

He grabbed a few more items of little note before he finally waved his hand over the crystal. The portal wavered and eventually faded completely. “If you are curious about its full potential, there is practically none if you have enough skill and magically energy to channel. That one in particular is little more than a storage cabinet for me to restock without carrying dozens of expensive and fragile vials.”

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Tolbyas joyfully nibbled on his food, relaxed as the group went about their sane and perfectly calm ways. He listened into some of the conversations, nothing worth noting, just normal folks talking about perfectly normal things.

At least, that is what Tolbyas thought as his sat in his merry little delusion. At least until he heard the weapon thud.

Tolbyas looked around, confused. He saw the druid elf facing the demon huntress. The huntress shifted her posture. Everything about her looked poised to strike. A tavern brawl? A sly grin played across Tolbyas’s face. He hadn’t been in a tavern brawl in ages. Tolbyas finished his food in a few hasty bites and then reclined back in his chair, examining the contenders. He pulled his daggers from their sheaths and held them at the ready.

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Kersia entered the tavern in time to hear the demon hunter and druid talking. She smiled, mistaking their banter for two allies getting along. At least until the druid attacked. “I’m sorry for my ignorance. I shouldn’t have treated you that way, but I will NOT let you insult our leaders. Illidan betrayed us and fought us. Tyrande and Malfurion, on the other hand, lead us through our tough times.”

“Ya know,” Kersia approached, tempted to let the entire thing play out. However, after a glare from the red behind the counter she decided to at least attempt to diffuse the situation. “I once had a leader who lead through tough times. He was a…” She paused for a moment. “He was brilliant. Kind and strong, witty. Super smart. Too smart. However,” she shook her head. “I learned the hard way that leader worship only blinds you. Leads you down the wrong paths. Makes you oblivious until you do something foolish or don’t do something important.” Kersia spoke more to both elves, not focusing on one in particular.

She shook her head. “All elf leaders or former leaders have habits of toeing dangerous lines.” Kersia smirked. “So I think they are all incompetent tarts. Most leaders are.”

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A huff of embers came out of Orlok’s suit as he chuckled at the statement. Not out of mockery but because it was amusing that he agreed with the sentiment.

“How so very true. As powerful or great as they are, they are only mortal. They are as capable as being as incompetent as anyone else. Anyone that follows a leader out of nothing but their worship and admiration I call a fool.”

Myorga looked slightly disappointed when the elf snatched the weapon up himself. Heh, heh, heh, you should have grabbed that when you had the chance, the dark voice inside taunted her. She rolled her eye and turned back to the void elf as he demonstrated how his portal worked and was impressed. She cocked her head to one side and tried to peer around the portal as if it would reveal something about how it worked, but he waved it away before she could get a good look at anything interesting. “Interesting…”, she noted, “But it hardly matters now. The offending object is in someone else’s hands now. By the way, I’m Myorga Gladstone. I’ve seen your…kind out and about here and there, but I can’t say I’ve officially met any so-called “void elf” before. I’m definitely pleased to make your acquaintance!”, she said with a broad smile.

Aanka stomped towards her room, ignoring the commotion behind her. She stopped in her tracks as Kersia entered. At the end of her speech, Aanka frowned. She knew she had done something wrong.

“Kersia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rash. Forgive me.” Aanka said.

[Disclaimer: did this as a collaborative post via discord so nothing god modey going on I assure you :D]

Damalys peered at the group upon crossing and landing and giving a subtle and suspicious glare towards Darak, That looks like the bastard who keeps giving my little brother trouble… looked away and focused back on Lynara “Aye,you look so different since we’ve last spoke. Mind regaling me on what happened since we parted ways and I started my path as this guise?” He adjusted his hood and goggles slightly waiting for the kaldorei’s response. “The Steel Maverick.” A faint smirk came over her face. “Blightcaller would love to get his grubby hands on you.” Her expression quickly faded. “I watched Teldrassil burn from the shoreline. Before it filled me with anger and rage. Now I recall it as a fact. Nothing more. I fought against the horde. Fought the occupation of Darkshore. Until I died in an ambush.” She pulled her neck cover down revealing the sowed together flesh.Damalys’ eyes went wide with horror putting two and two together especially after she mentioned the ambush in Darkshore. He had been aiding prisoners,potential blight test subjects and anti-Sylvanas refugees at the time while evading the blood knight Rina so had been unable to get to Darkshore in time which gave him a small pang of regret and caused him to tighten his fist in anger. “They raised you,the bytch’s lapdogs haven’t even the honor and decency to give a clean warrior’s death…makes you wonder if she and The Lich King were cut from the same cloth.” He looked to Lynara with a stoic look “Yet you’re here aiding a friend of Kali’s rather than doing her bidding so mayhap there’s hope.” She looked at him, not a hint of humor or amusement in her face as she spoke. “How do you know I’m not here under her sway? That the Val’kyr Control my every thought and action?” She took out the letter that Kersia had sent out. “This was on its way to Blightcaller. I intercepted it. Perhaps I’m only here to take the relic for the horde when we are done.”

She smiled slightly. It is good to see you have some faith in me even in this state. Only other people I know of who do are Bryah and Kari.” She looked at her hands then to Damalys. “When they raised me I barely remember what was actually a few days. I have no idea how many Kaldorei I killed during that time. I do know how many I’ve killed since. The thing is I can’t bring myself to care. I feel no regret or guilt for killing my former kin. Killing comes easier now than it did before.” She couldn’t quite articulate how it felt or what she meant in a way that she thought he would understand. Describing undeath to the living was like describing color to a blind person. Damalys gave a small smirk in return “I know you too well Lynara,if you’re anything like your late niece,you’re too strong willed and stubborn to let some scumbag sway your mind,though my heart does ache that you went through such a Hellish ordeal. Plus I know how ruthless you can be on the battlefield so if you truly were under sway, I’d be constantly worrying about back home but reassured when Kali messaged me back telling all was well save for a patient in critical he was treating.” He shook his head “Say no more,for now we’ll focus on the mission and take it from there. They’ll need the skill of our blades when the dangerous part inevitably pops up,and maybe a few explosives.” He said with a grin,he really did love opportunities to help others whilst being able to test out his gadgetry.

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“Well why don’t we go inside? It will be dark soon and if I remember right it gets quite cold up here at night.” She said walking into the tavern past the large Eredar. A pondering thought of the size of bonfire she would need to keep warm crossed Lynara’s mind. She sat down at a nearby table to the others but still by herself. While cooperation with the others would be needed, she had no use for ‘friends’. She looked over the other members of the ragtag group that she could see. She made a mental list of potential useful one and potential threats.

“Interesting…”, she noted, “But it hardly matters now. The offending object is in someone else’s hands now. By the way, I’m Myorga Gladstone. I’ve seen your… kind out and about here and there, but I can’t say I’ve officially met any so-called “void elf” before. I’m definitely pleased to make your acquaintance!”, she said with a broad smile.

Kawisa grimaced a little with the emphasis she put on ‘kind’. It wasn’t anything new. Anyone he used to know from Quel’thasas or the Horde viewed him as a traitor and most from the Alliance either viewed him as a Horde member, or as a monstrosity here to take their precious Light away. He relaxed as he got the idea that she wasn’t making either of those assumptions… he thinks.

“Pleasure to meet you as well miss Myorga. I am Kawisa Duskreaver, formerly of Shadowmoon and current Assistant to the mage Kersia.” He finished sliding the potions into their holder and draped it over his shoulder to attach in the morning. “And yes, I am one of the ‘void elves’ or Ren’dorei in our tongue.”

Kora, was going about her nightly routine in her cabin, making food, bathing, and getting ready for bed. She warmed up a mug of hot chocolate, always preferring the sweet drink to coffee. She sat beside the hearth watching the flames dance. She sighed, “Kersia always seems to bring together a merry group of misfits when she needs help. Whether that is a bad or a good thing remains to be seen.” The red looked out her window to the nearby Amber Ledge, her memories flooding her as she did. She shook her head, she had made her choices and she would live with them, there was no use dwelling on those choices.

Darak gazed at the scene caused with some mild interest, however when the glaive, letting the metal incased sin’dorei take it without a care, he merely went back too hi vials, mixing a few of them too make serums, potions or just what ever he can with it.

a quick glance to the illidari, and a quiet mutter of words, “This is the normal when i see living I’m afraid, ignorance of others potential and eager to harm them for being different.” holding up a vial he is currently working on, it appears to be a mix of black and dark grey colors.

“But i assume like myself, you get used too it.” setting the vial down, he put a cork in it to prevent it from spilling.

looking at both Maverick and the dark ranger walk in now, Darak glared at both of them, mostly towards Lynara’s direction.
“Always sylvana’s traitorous kin somewhere” he muttered under his breath, curling his fists in anger.

“How so very true. As powerful or great as they are, they are only mortal. They are as capable as being as incompetent as anyone else. Anyone that follows a leader out of nothing but their worship and admiration I call a fool.”

“Regardless of mortality the sentiment holds true. Even immortal beings of great strength, wisdom, and power should not be followed blindly. Critical thinking and situational appraisal should always be at the forefront of one’s obedient mind.” Kersia scowled as she thought of her own blind admiration she once followed.

“Kersia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rash. Forgive me.”

Kersia chuckled. “Apologies are not needed. My only concern is avoiding the wrath of the tavern keeper. Seemed the most logical solution was to offer a dollop of learned wisdom. I’m more biased towards Illidan anyway. Far more interesting of a specimine. But this new aveneu Tyranda has awakened seems intriguing as well.” She shrugged. “Regardless, I am off to rest myself. Should you all wish to kill each other overnight, do it outside and be sure to leave one survivor to regale me with the details later.”

Her piece said, Kersia vanished into a puff of arcane energy and reappeared on the steps up into the guest rooms. She made her way up to a room and entered. Once the door closed behind her, Kersia set to work weaving a locking enchantment. With how interesting things were appearing, she couldn’t be too careful. She repeated the enchantment on the window to the room before seating herself on the quaint little bed. She pulled out a small notebook and recorded some information before laying herself down to sleep.


Kersia was awake before sunrise, her mind analyzing what she knew and her memory of Racheytech’s recording. She had already left the tavern and was pacing outside, up and down the broken bridge. Her rylek, Tiana, watched her curiously, chirping and clicking every so often.

“One getting through the biometric scan is odd enough, but both is simply astounding.” Kersia muttered barely audible for anyone not immediately near her. “Implications abound, but I cannot fathom two who would have an interest. Was there more of his brood alive? One I can believe, but two? I mean we didn’t purge them all for certain, or seek them out ourselves, so the possibility exists. But something arcane existed with the other. That is not their domain. I suppose it could be learnable, but why? Well, she tapped into fel to throw off pursuers, maybe the logic is the same. But why here? Why not Highmountain? So close to the seat of power, so close to so many enemies, it would be illogical for any of their flight to be here.”

Kersia continued to pace and think as she waited for the others to show up. Slowly the sun began to rise over the horizon.

Aanka opened her eyes, pushing her tired body out of bed. The birds chirped, and she could see the sun rising through the tavern window. Aanka quickly threw on a silk shirt and pants, covering them in thin leather armor. She then threw on her pack of equipment and her wooden staff.

Aanka walked downstairs into the tavern room, already seeing a few early risers. She sat down at a table, ordered a small breakfast, and quickly ate it.

Myorga had also gotten up before dawn. The cool air of the morning was refreshing. She found a small stream and carefully soaked a cloth in the water, taking care not to disturb the water and stir up any mud. She removed her eye patch and wiped the cloth across her face, taking in the crisp coldness of the water. She wrung out the cloth and then tucked it into her belt where it would dry without soaking anything and then replaced her eyepatch, tying the straps into a knot that would hold throughout the day.

Myorga fiddled around her neck and found a small gold chain with a pendant attached. The pendant was ordinary looking at first glance, just a dull polished rock held in place with some wire, but upon further inspection, one might notice that the rock almost seemed almost translucent as if you could see inside it, but not quite. She rubbed the pendant between her fingers, lost in thought, before she looked up and noted that the sun was starting to rise. She quickly gathered her belongings and headed back to the inn where she sat outside the front entrance, and greeted the rising sun, shining on her face, with a smile.

She took a deep breath and sighed, and then rose and entered the inn where she found a few of the people from the night before already up and having breakfast. She sat at a table of her own, where she could see the entire tavern, and ordered a bit of toasted bread, some eggs, and a cup of coffee.


The Night Before


Vesthi watched the Druid leave, and at once she relaxed her posture. A clawed finger began to idly trace circles on the table top while Vesthi momentarily lost herself to her thoughts. The dark man muttered quietly, shaking her from her revere. She nodded as she replied. “True enough. It’s interesting, and occasionally amusing, what one can grow accustomed too.” Vesthi lifted the fel vial in her hand, as if to draw an unintentional parallel. She pulled the cork and immediately the potency of the fel contained within struck her senses like a pungent odor. Without much of a thought she tipped back the vial and ingested its contents.

On the outside Vesthi’s pallor shifted slightly, the hue of her demonic skin becoming slightly more vibrant and her scaled hide the slightest more supple. Thin veins of fel energy spread across her face like molten fissures from behind her veil. Two tiny orbs of fel ignited where before there were only black sockets. The veins of fel spread down her neck, disappearing beneath her tunic. Every muscle in her body tensed for an instant. On the inside it seemed like a fire had ignited. It was an exquisite dance of both pain and pleasure. The lethargy that weighed her down released it’s hold. The fog that obscured her vision cleared. It had been a short season since the last time she’d felt this good or saw so clearly. The whole experience wasn’t quite, but something nearing ecstasy.

Drawing a clear breath Vesthi replaced the cork and slid the vial across the table to the man… who she could now see more clearly. Questions about the undead man abound, but could wait. “Thank you for this. I needed that boost. I owe you.” Vesthi lingered a bit longer, listening and watching those who had entered the tavern. She saw each and every one of them so much more clearly now and worked to correct the terrible assumptions she’d made of each. As the night wore on and the atmosphere drew more sleepy Vesthi decided to remove herself from the Tavern, and distance herself from the temptation to pay a certain Nature-wielding patron an unpleasant late night visit.

Now that her mind and vision was clear, and she was feeling more like her old self, Vesthi would have little need of actual sleep. A brief period of meditation now and then was really all her body and mind required. So instead, Vesthi would put her time to use getting her affects in order.

Summoning her Felbat down from the tower’s exterior rafters, Vesthi pulled apart the few items she’d brought with her. They were few. None of them particularly useful to the task at hand. She sighed to herself as she realized just how ill prepared she’d been. Her drunken stupor and lingering hangover hadn’t helped her decision making. Neither did her assumption that this was going to be anything they might call typical or mundane. The invitation said to meet at the Wyrmrest Temple, it was all but spelled out for you right there Vesthi! She chided herself. No matter, Vesthi resigned. She neatly repacked what little she had and quietly moved toward the broken bridge. Not even a weapon. She chided herself again, shaking her head lightly.

Standing in the darkness beside the broken bridge Vesthi felt the air begin to chill around her. Looking back at the tavern and small town she felt that perhaps she was far enough away she could chance a small resonance ritual. A simple enough spell that channeled minimal energy, it would work wonders toward further clearing her mind and recharging her body.

Clearing a small circle for herself near the cliff ledge beside the small bridge, Vesthi quickly worked out a small rune circle on the ground for herself and sat in the middle. She began softly uttering a spell ritual in the demonic tongue, falling into a particular cadence. The small rune circle beneath her began to glow a faint green hue as she very carefully channeled fel energies from the nether. If infesting a small vial of fel tainted blood was like striking a match and lighting a flame, then this quiet little ritual was like stoking the fel flames within. Even as she muttered quietly to herself, Vesthi’s awareness expanded, reaching throughout her immediate area.

Daegon, Vesthi’s hug Felbat, scampered to the broken bridge and hung itself off it’s edge, wrapping itself tightly for the night.


The Next Morning


Vesthi remained as she was, seated within her small rune circle chanting to herself, all through the night. She was aware of Kersia’s approach to the broken bridge just before day break. Vesthi ceased her chanting as the magical bear, who wasn’t a bear, began pacing on the bridge talking to herself. Gradually Vesthi began to wonder just what she’d gotten herself involved in.

The father and daughter emerged out of their room that they retreated to the previous night. They came out with there equipment quickly and quietly, having already eating in their room before making a move. Upon Orlok’s back were not only his Warblades but the glaive the Night Elf had thrown, now in a holster that Nil had conjured up for it.

“You sure we have everything father?”
“Everything I can think of for a general purpose mission. What about our Fel Crystals?”
“We have enough that your armor will neither lose power or fail to activate its functions. I know I don’t have to say it but…be careful.”
“Mmn.”

The two retrieved their Wyvern who greeted them with purrs little headbutts for affections before it was guided to the bridge where the others began to gather. As the two came up Orlok spoke plainly to Kersia. His voice sounding almost metallic and lifeless coming through his helm.

“If I may Miss Kersia, allow me to cut to the chase. What can we expect in this mission and what are we supposed to kill? If we are going to this blue dragon altered land, then some great magic must be at work and something or someone needs to die to stop it am I correct?”

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Kora stretched as the sun peeked through her cabin window, “Another day, another adventure.” She sighed as she got up and waved her hand, her nightgown changing to more practical traveling attire, a leather jerkin and pants and hiking boots. As with most of her clothing her attire did show off her shapely figure, though that tended to happen with leather regardless of the woman wearing it.

The red dragon exited her cabin and whispered the spell to make it shrink back to a cube. As she neared the bridge she decided to wait for everyone a little ways off. She seemed to already have given a bad first impression on some of them, so there was no sense in antogonizing them further. Though, she felt unlike herself in doing so.