Madness by Anaie

[Keeper Of Lore]

Anaie sat in a dark corner of the Lower City of Shattrath staring down at her Grim tabard. She felt the ache of the injury above her left breast; the one that she would not allow bandaged or healed to serve as a reminder.

“What will become of me now…” she whispered to herself.

This was the second time in as many weeks where she had attacked a fellow Grim, but this time it was even worse, this time it was the Mistress herself that was attacked.

“…an’ in front of everybody!” she muttered.

Had it not been for Lupen’s quick reaction, she would most likely be dead at the feet of the Mistress. She had worn a fine dress and left all of her armor and weapons behind in Thunder Bluff, in case she had another episode… and it was good that she did. While the Mistress was always ready for battle, an attack from a fellow was most likely not expected and who knows what injury could have been done.

She remembered gathering for the meeting with her fellows, sitting next to her sister Syreena, Lupen behind the two of them, in the front row of the gathering facing the Mistress. She remembered the dull headache that began as the meeting went on, and its intensification as the topics grew to discussing enemies here on Azeroth…. She remembered an elf that rose to speak about the Dread Citadel when the worst of the headache then began. She vaguely remembered holding her own blade to her stomach, pressing the point into her exposed flesh… battling with her own mind and trying to end this torment there at her own hand. She remembered hearing a deep laughter before slipping into blackness…

“I left me weapons in Thundah Bluff…” she whispered. The only items she had brought with her that day were some small items to deliver to fellow Grims that she had crafted. “How did it come ta be wit me??”

Next she knew, she was standing, near naked in a dark room in a recess of the Undercity, facing her sister. “Syreena… what ‘appened?” she asked as she glanced about… the stones showed scorching from fire and there were ice crystals scattered about. A strange barrier sealed the room from the rest of the city, with the mage Razev glaring nearby, hands raised as if ready to destroy her with but a gesture. Lupen and one of his demonic minions loomed nearby as well, an exceedingly angry look upon his face.

Anaie sighed to herself, “Syreena…” Anaie had put her in danger as well, but had she not been there, who knows if Lupen and Razev would have succeeded in bringing Anaie back without destroying her.

She touched the bandages on her head, soaked with blood and still throbbing from Razev’s dagger. The physical pain she felt tonight, while great, was nothing compared to the anguish she felt for the trauma this must be causing to Syreena.

Syreena made her promise too avoid any prolonged time in Azeroth, and Anaie did so. Anaie knew that more time must be spent in the Plaguelands however, as there was still work to be done for the Argent Dawn. She was nearly exalted amongst the group, and then she would have access to their libraries and be granted a way of reaching the Dread Citadel itself. Perhaps Razev’s enchantment would provide enough time to allow her to use the new device she had built that could instantly take her back to the Outlands before succumbing to the commands again.

Anaie ran her hands over the teleportation device she had built, "Odd dat dis shattahed realm can provide me wit peace...."

Either way, Anaie was confident her combined research, Lupen’s rituals, Razev’s studies, and her sisters love would allow this to be overcome… she was not alone… she was Grim. And if they could not... she knew she could trust Razev to put her down like a rabid beast.

“I just ‘ope da Mistress can be trustin’ in dat still….”

[Keeper Of Lore]

Anaie flew over the skies of Bone Wastes to reach the spider infested woods to the southeast at the call for support of the Mistress. As Anaie closed in on the location she landed her windrider and quickly dismounted, immediately taking to the shadows. She crept over the ridgeline to see the prey already deceased, Sammuel and the Mistress cleaning thier blades of the vile ichor.

As Anaie stepped out of the shadows and saluted, she knew immediately why she was here... and accepted her fate, whatever it may be.

"Sit...and expain matters to me." the Mistress told her, with Sammuel coming away from the massive dead spider, blade still in hand. The whispers of Anaie's other companions were coming through on her hearthstone, but Anaie ignored them and obeyed.

Anaie knew to only speak the truth of what was happening to her, for she had spoken with Sammuel enough to know that he would slaughter anything that he considered a threat or even an inconvienence to his sister. Anaie explained the theories that Lupen, Razev, the Argent Dawn and herself had regarding the illness affecting her... and before she could mention what all believed needed to be done, the Mistress flatly stated a simple solution.

"Then we simply slay Kel'thuzad..."

Anaie let out a small sigh of relief as Sammuel sheathed his weapon and folded his arms, standing behind Lascivious.

"Spared for now, it seems..." she thought to herself.

Anaie could tell that the Mistress had many other things on her mind as they parted ways. Sammuel had already taken flight and Anaie was shortly after him, taking to the skies once again to head toward Shadowmoon Valley to rejoin her companions.

Anaie was pleased to know that her guildmates still supported her, but she knew many inquires to her health were merely people trying to find out if she was still a danger. Anaie would be just as cautious if she were in thier shoes... if not even more so.

As she left the forest and flew over the nether toward Shadowmoon Valley she thought how easy it would be to end this all right now... all she had to do was slide off her saddle and she would be lost forever. Anaie snorted at the preposterous thought.

"I die fightin'... soon Ill be seein' ya lich. Grim tidings await you or I" she said. She almost hoped that he could somehow hear her as the edges of Shadowmoon Valley came into view.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Anaie could not help but pause everytime she was about to step through that portal to return to Azeroth. She had done so dozens of times since the ritual was performed by Razev and Lupen, and each time, Razev's wards caused a dull throbbing to appear in her skull as the Lich probed for a way in... each time giving her enough time to teleport herself back to Toshley's Station or use the magic of her stone to return to the Scryer Inn in Shattrath City. She took a deep breath and stepped through once again.

The acrid smells of the Undercity assaulted her nostrils, and brought a smile to her face. "Nothin' like comin' 'ome a'gin" she mused. She summoned Nageater and rode through the cramped streets of the Mage's District, heading to the bank. Anaie quickly grabbed the items needed to finally have the Dawn grant her access to the Dread Citadel and whipped Nageater with her crop to spur the beast into action. Anaie smirked, "Ya be growin' slow from lack of excercise I tink ol'friend..."

She could have flown to the Chapel, but the feeling of the cool breeze whipping past her as she blazed alongthe roads of Tirisfal Glades toward the Plaguelands was something shemissed. Anaie made a silent promise to herself to use the steed more in the Outlands, it was still a faster beast in many circumstances, and she was no longer concerned of the dangers of the realm, not since completing her training.

She reached the Chapel in amazing time, the hordes of foes in the Plaguelands were not so mindless as to know to battle her would mean death, and they seemed to give her a wide berth. Anaie dismounted quickly and strode up to Archmage Angela Dosantos dumping the contents of the bag on the table in front of her. The mage examined the items and smiled, "You will feel a slight tingle, Anaie. That sensation means it'sworking. Once complete, you will be able to enter Naxxramas by steppingupon the rune portal in Plaguewood."

Finally... now just to rally the others to assault the Citadel with her. She would go alone if need be, but knew it would be suicide. "Only as a last resort" she muttered. "I come for you Lich!!!" she screamed as she stood on the path gazing out into the Eastern Plaguelands. She smiled as a dwarf passed her with a look of complete shock and terror on his face, he would live for now, as she did not wish to raise the ire of the guards here at the Chapel. Anaie began to giggle slightly as she knew the Lich heard her this time... "soon one of us will be dead."

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Lupen

Lupen sat once more in the Netherstorm. His mind buzzed with the chaos of numerous schemes, anger, feelings of mortal insecurity. So many things had consumed his time... Vilmah, Lovely, Ashagga... And dear Anaie and Syreena. He fondled the sundered soul shard in his right hand... Soul of daughter, blood of kin.

The gem brought back vivid memories of that night... Stapping Anaie down, her escaping, coming close to slaying her... Eyeing her naked bodice strewn about the rune, overcome with mixed feelings... The dagger above her breast, the small shard taken from the two... Razev's enchantment, the blood...

Lupen frowned and muttered words in Demonic, as he looked over the edge of the storm... Contemplating the very fate of his Grim sisters.