Endings Or Beginnings by Warneshi

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi held the edge of his desk, the room spun and if he had any food in him, he would of spilled it out upon the floor. He watched in horror as his skin disintigrated and his hair fell from his head. He felt his muscles decay and his bones weaken and shatter. The world screamed in rage his name, and the only thing he could hear above it all was the slight whisper "Son, you are coming home to me..."

Warneshi cryed out in pain and fear, but nothing could escape his mouth, his voice box was already rotted away. He turned in panic to find food, all around him he could see the faces of the those he had consumed, those who had sustained his unnatural life. They reached for him, clawed at his bone and devoured his rotting flesh. He could not escape them, with no muscles all he could do was lay there and scream to the world in silence the pain that overwhelmed him.

My son...you are coming home...

The souls ceased their assualt and backed away, creating a causeway of incorporeal horror. Warneshi's eyes had begun to rot from his head, but he still possessed the ability to look up and see what strode toward him.

The most beautifull troll he had ever seen approached him. Moving with a grace so unnatural, Warneshi did not believe she could possibly exist. He eyes rested upon him, a sadness in them that spoke pages in mere seconds. She was pained to see him in such a state, he knew this, she wanted to help him. She knelt beside his rotting body, not caring that her finery was ruined amongst his ashes, she held him close to her bossum, and spoke softly into his ear.

My son, you have been mosst bad. I am pained to see your powerfull form in such a state, but I had to teach you what you are without me. I am here Warneshi, to return you to my gracess, to end thiss terrible aging that wrackss you so, and to put an end to thiss hunger.

Give into thiss power I offer you my dearesst boy, become my servent again. Return to the nether where I may heal your body, resstore your power. Then, you will return to thiss world my avatar, all the landss laid low before your might. You want thiss my son, I can smell the passsion burning within you.

Warneshi wanted to say no, to push her away. She had come to him in the guise she used on his father, the guise of kindness and love. Yet part of him yurned for her power, he hated to admit it, but she was right. He was weak without her power. All this time he had thought he was breaking away from it, really it had been nothing but a leash. She was calling him now, she needed him, and he needed her.

Yesss mother, Warneshi will return. He iss weak but only becausse he denied the giftss he wass given.

Slys'Thok smiled at her broken son, on the inside she roared with triumph, she always won. Lifting her sons broken body, she strode down the highway of the souls her son had consumed, each one reaching, seeking to rip his flesh a little more. She snarled and they bowed low before her. Opening a portal to her home, she took one last look at the land of Azeroth, and took her son away.

Warneshi smiled, he could feel the power near him, and he wanted to drain it. He looked up and saw a face he had never once known, a happy mother watching him, caring for him. Warneshi slipped into darkness, he accepted around him and slept the first peacefull sleep of his life.

With a small "crack" the portal shut. The Sandfury Embassy was quiet, the slight breeze that blew through the streets of Orgimmar seemed to avoid the place. Many horde did not care to approach it, it had an unatural feel to it. Within the office of Warneshi Sandscalp was left his great blade, Sul'Thraz, and a small note written in Warneshi's script with the simple word "Home" upon it.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Lupen

Lupen willingly walked into the Sandfury embassy, the second time he had been in there... He found it oddly comforting, with the smell of death and torture heavy in the air. The Warlock noticed the blade left carelessly on its side as he had passed by to speak to the Alterac Valley Battlemaster. He slowly approched it and spent a good few minutes eyeing and simply appriciating the blade. So perfect, so unholy, so truely corrupt. The note that had read, "Home" hardly concerned Lupen, he knew what it ment, the pull of the Nether was omnipresent.

He took his own dagger, and cut a rune of the Nether into his left hand, muttering in Demonic that had roughly translated to, "May the Void guide your path of Destruction, brother." Lupen walked off, leaving the embassy undisturbed, aside from a few drops of his own blood spilt.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Syreena

Syreena squinted against the harsh sunlight as she left the battlemaster's hall in Orgrimmar. She had to fight more on Thrall's battlefields, the quarter master had told her weeks ago, if she wanted to access to better armor. She had to make up for killing the 218 so-called innocents that had died by her hand. Thrall himself had once told her that the Horde was at peace with the Alliance, so she didn't understand why his battlemasters wanted her to kill Alliance in his name. Grims have told her in the past that Thrall was confused and all Alliance must die. Regardless of what Thrall had told her, the battlemaster's orders seemed to coincide, at least partly, with the goals of The Grim, so she would do her part on the battlefield. She was content to let those wiser than her figure out the meaning of the apparent disagreement between Thrall and his officers. She had the luxury of simply doing as she was told, without needing to understand why.

The little rogue wandered to the fishing pond while she waited to be summoned for battle. Bear took off with a playful bark and jumped into the pond, ignoring the scolding of a fisherman there. Syreena watched the worg pup blankly, paying more attention to the feeling that's been nagging at her lately, than to Bear splashing after a small school of fish. After a few moments, the pup bounded towards the orphanage to play with the children, who squealed and laughed when he shook water on them. Syreena's gaze followed him partway, but stopped on the Sandfury embassy building.

In life, since she was a very small child, she had never cared about anyone enough to feel loss when they were gone. Even when she found Aleister, the alchemist she served, dead from the plague, she felt lost for the few days she survived him, but she certainly didn't miss him or feel sorry he was gone. Not until she began to serve The Grim had she learned what it meant to feel attachment of varying degrees. And since then, she had also experienced what it felt like to lose someone she cared for.

The first one had affected her the most. Lilly had noticed the change in her and frequently asked her if she was all right. Despite his promises, he seemed to be gone for good. She saw him once or twice after he left, but that was months ago, and the package she mailed to him since then had been returned unopened. She wondered if he did indeed move to Blackrock Mountain as he once said he would. Each time Syreena went there, she looked for him, but he was not to be seen. The second, Chavie still hunted and played with her now and then, although it wasn't quite the same as when the sis ters were both Grims together. Lilly had been gone for a long time, but it was said she would return. But nobody seemed to know what had happened to Warneshi. Unlike the first two, he didn't say goodbye when he left. Nobody she asked knew where he was, or if he would return. He seemed to have just disappeared.

She reminded herself that it wasn't wise to waste time grieving for the past, as Muatah had told her once. She felt a twinge of guilt for not following his advice as she allowed her feet to carry her into the embassy. She saw no sign that anyone had been here recently, other than a scattering of dirt or ash. She sat down on the fur rug and remembered the first time she was here. The Tyrant had chased her around Orgrimmar, threatening to eat her soul for throwing snowballs at him. She managed to avoid him by staying hidden in the shadows, and then she followed him here. Warneshi and Lilly were involved in a discussion about something--she didn't remember what--and then Emmons appeared, which seemed to infuriate Warneshi even more.

"Mr. Huggy Wuggy!" Syreena yelled loudly. She looked around at the door, expecting, even hoping, to see the Tyrant charge in, hissing "Corpsse" at her for calling him by Chavie's nickname for him. She was prepared to endure his temper just to see him again, to know that he was well. But even after several moments, nobody came. She frowned with a deep sigh, and stood. Slowly, she walked to his chair and gently place a snowball there as she whispered, "Please come home soon."

Syreena turned to leave, and the sword caught her eye. She glanced at the door again but didn't see anyone watching her. She picked the sword up, and glanced at the note. "Ho...ho may" she muttered to herself, thinking that maybe that was the name of the weapon. It felt strange in her hands. Although it was much too large for the little Forsaken to weild, she carried it out with her. Bear ran to her side, and she hearthed to the Undercity, so enthralled by the strange sword, that she didn't even hear the summons of the battle masters.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Zuhkinjo

Zuhkinjo walked warily inside the Undercity, his eyes shooting about in a paranoid fashion. He was soon to be lost the demon, and he had recalled Warneshi's offer in the past to "remove" it. He knew Grugdish was bound with his own soul however, yet he was desperate for the ritual at this point, no matter how likely it was to kill him.

He noticed the Tyrant's blade in Syreena's hands, and quickly approached her. Zuhk spoke darkly, his face was noticeably aged, possibly from worry. Grugdish was effecting him even when he wasn't in control. He yearned to kill anything in front of him, and in knowing this, he spoke with his face turned away from the forsaken.

"He be gone... Zuhk right? He see nah other reason why anotha would carry his sword..."

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Regnanetah

Regna-N'Etah sighed as he walked into the embassy, looking around. It had been weeks since Warneshi's disappearence, and almost a week since the Tyrant's sword had also disapeared, though some of the embassy staff had reported a female forsaken walk out of the embassy with it. With the length of the absence, the circumstanes surrounding the dissapearence, and the fact that the sword was left...it was time, perhaps, to begin preparing for the worse. Slys'Thok would no doubt not forget those who had helped her son rebel against her, especially if such rebellion had ended in failure on the son's part.
Regna-N'Etah begin to move purposfully about the embassy, first sending all the staff home, and then closing the embassy, and making sure he had the place to himself. With Warneshi gone, Regna-N'Etah begin to search the embassy, practially ripping it apart in search of his goal. His goal was simple...had Warneshi left behind any records? Any Plans? Had the Tyrant left behind any instructions in case he should fall...preparations in case he failed? Regna-N'Etah knew Warneshi had mentioned that his nephew Krezinak would take his position as king if he fell against his mother, but beyond that...WAS there any plans laid for a worst case scenario?
Regna-N'Etah cursed himself for not finding out more information earlier, but he hadn't expected something like this to come to pass...especially at a time when Lilliana was also absent and off who knows where, but there had always been things to do, lore to study, matters for the Grim to organize... Simply Never enough time in the damn day to do all that needed to be done, let alone things that he simply wished to. Well...now it was down to him to try and figure something out...someway to continue the fight against Slys'Thok without the Tyrant's presence.

((Warneshi, if there is any such plans, send a mail to me over guild portal, and good luck with how everything's going with you))

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Krezinak

Krezinak had barley entered the embassy on his own. Maybe once or twice when he was called to it. But with the extended absence of his uncle he decided to investigate. As Krezinak approached the embassy there was an uneasy silence, the last few times he was called to the embassy it was buzzing with workers and researchers. Krezinak slowly opened the door, blade drawn....

To his suprise there was not a living soul in the embassy, papers thrown about in madness, draws hurled to the floor. Someone had been here searching for something, but what?

While walking towards his Uncles desk, there more papers strewn across the floor and desk. Krezinak sighed to himself "No need to leave this place in such disarray." As he went about cleaning the papers off the floor he discovered what looked like ash. This did not look like the ash of paper but of flesh.( Krezinak remanises back when he would watch his uncle burn the soul drained corpsesof his enemies.) "Odd..." Said Krezinak.

Bringing the ash up to his nose he began to breath in the sent. "UNCLE!" "This is not good, not good at all!" Enraged Krezinak slammed his fist on the desk nearly splitting it in half. "I will find whoever did this and run them through!" As Krezinak stormed towards the door but stopped dead in his tracks. "But what of the blade?"Krezinak pondered. Franticly he searched the embassy. "Gone! Someone must have seen someone leave with it."

Leaving the embassy he began to question others outside of the embassy. He heard that a small forsaken with a worg pug the children called "Bear" had entered. And the a few days later a troll entered but noone since then. Krezinak Remembered Uncle talking about a forsaken that had baggered he constantly always throwing snowballs at him and the small dog she always kept with her.

Runnning through the Grim legion he finally came upon the name "Syreena? Yes i will have to speak with her, that blade belongs to king of the Sandfury and with Uncle gone that king is me" Krezinak headed for the zepplin. He would meet Syreena before the assult on the trolls of Zul'Gurub. There he would ask for its return. As the zepplin floated along a wicked grin was upon Krezinaks face with only one thought on his mind "King".

((I would have posted this before the actual raid but i just now got time to type it))

[Keeper Of Lore]

As Syreena and Thrissia were discussing important things, like their favorite colors, that annoying deathweed hogging rogue, Lucion, came by and said something irritating. Syreena threw a snowball at him.

"How do you keep those from melting in your skirt?" he asked her.

"I don't wear skirts," she answered.

"Yes, you do. I saw you playing dress up in the sewers," he taunted.

Syreena gasped and quickly excused herself from Thrissia's company. She often tried on the black dress that Frain made her a long time ago. The dress was special to her. It was the first nice thing anyone had ever given to her. If Lucion saw that, what else had he seen? What had he heard?

The little rogue quickly made her way to the sewers, staying to the shadows, and frequently looking over her shoulder. She ran through the winding tunnels until she came to a crevice behind a boulder that led to a small cave.

At first glance, everything looked undisturbed. Bear stretched as he stood, then came to greet her with wet puppy kisses. Stu's cage was secure, and he simply looked at her with his floppy ears and wiggling nose. Her blue spider, that she hadn't thought of a name for yet, was happily wrapping a cockroach in webbing. The cat figurine from Chaindog was still sitting on a rock ledge. Everything was as she'd left it.

Still not completely relieved, Syreena moved deeper into the little cave, through another crevice she could barely squeeze through, and knelt down on the floor there. Reaching between two rocks, she withdrew an item wrapped in a cloak. She unwrapped it, and smiled faintly. Lucion was a liar. Nobody had found her hiding place.

She sat on the damp floor in the cramped space, and cradled the sword in her lap. Krezinak kept asking her about it, demanding she give the sword to him. So far, she'd managed to delay him, if not flat out avoid him. Luckily, the Steward began speaking last night, just as Krezinak started asking her about it.

The blade mystified her. She could sit for hours, just listening to it talk, even though she did not understand everything it said in the strange riddles and rhymes it spoke.

"Pretty pretty little dead, you should dread, for the king of all is in your head. My power great your will is wrought to suffer now and pay the cost. Look not for his kingly kind, he is gone and you are mine."

Syreena often had the feeling the sword wanted something from her, or was using her in some way. Sometimes she'd lose track of time with it, or find herself somewhere with no memory of going there. Still she kept it hidden from Warneshi's heir. She missed Warneshi, and the sword reminded her so much of him. Just like the Tyrant himself was, the blade was dangerous. She knew this, and yet she felt drawn to it.

The sword belonged to her now, and it claimed that she belonged to it. She must find a way to keep it from Krezinak.

((Sword's words written by Warneshi))

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi opened his eyes, his body was whole again, and he could feel the old power returned to him. He sat up, it was dark; he could smell her corruption everywhere. Warneshi smiled, he was home.

Slys'Thok watched her son rise, he was a marvel to see. His strength returned, his mind clear and his intent had returned. She smiled as he went to work devouring the souls of several innocents she had placed in his chamber. He did not show compasion, regret, only joy at the power he gained from them. She had him again, and this time she would never let her precious boy go.

Warneshi rolled his eyes into his head, the souls never tasted so glorious. He could feel them coarse through his being, he could feel his strength increase and let lose a cackle as he could hear their pleas in his head; they begged for release from their new prison. Warneshi knew his purpose again, she was to return to the world of Azeroth; Warneshi would give her this.

He knew his abscense would of been well noted by The Grim, and that perhaps even several searched for him. Warneshi laughed, he would use this to his advantage, he would seek their aid and use it to bring their end. Warneshi sat down and closed his eyes, he called out across the cosmos, called to his blade; he would overpower the troll trapped within and use it as his conduit to communicate with old allies, would tell them how to bring him back.

Warneshi found the ancient trolls soul, he laughed as it tried so feebly to ward him off, tried so hard to remain where it was. Warneshi whispered to old soul within.

"You alwayss sought releasse old one, Warneshi will give it to you, thiss iss hiss realm now, begone."

the ancient soul cried out in panic, he knew what would happen if he was banished, he would become nothing.

"Foolish trolly king, she uses you to her whim, begone from this place it should not see your embrace, it is my home not for you to roam!"

Warneshi smirked and pushed the ancient soul away, it could not stand to his will. Warneshi looked out on Azeroth through Sul'Thraze, and he was pleased with what he found, Syreena. The little undead had taken the blade, and Warneshi could not ask for anyone better for him to use. He reached out into her mind, speaking so softly.

"Little corpsse worry no more, for Warneshi hasss returned..."

Slys'Thok smiled sweetly, her son was finally doing as he was destined to do, soon she would have what was rightfully hers, the souls of the world...

[Keeper Of Lore]

Lupen and his succubus, Jhorantia walked side by side throughout the dank halls of the Undercity. It had been quite some time, a few weeks, since Lupen had visited the Forsaken capital. He had forgotten its thick air, its moist cobblestone, its stench of death and dispair... So like the Nether, so lovely.

"Ugh..." The Dread Mage mumbled, he rubbed the thin skin around his temples. His ears rang and his stomach churned. Sickness creeping evermore, day by day, he was hardly awake... Lupen would remedy that soon...

Jhorantia took his right and and grinned, he was completely unsure if her feelings were genuine or she was merely doing her job. He smiled weakly back, her fingers began to caress his side. Lupen snapped a bit, his eyes narrowed, but then he returned to his calmer outlook, "Not now dear, we're in public." He smirked as the words flowed out. Jhorantia frowned a bit and inspected her nails absent-mindedly.

The Dread Mage and his Wench walked along the sewers for a short bit, there was a faint voice in the distance... Somewhat familar... Not female, nor male, though he had heard it before. He followed that resonating sound, delving deeper and deeper into the core of the earth, the cesspool of lies and vulgarity the Undercity produced as a waste product. The voice did not become louder, but it became more violent, more aggressive, Lupen was no longer sure if he heard this voice, or if it was all imagination. Jhorantia trotted behind, a bipedal demon with hooves of feet, not the most agile. She stopped and panted a bit, whip limp in off-hand, her right gripping a wall for breath. Lupen turned and stopped, unholy beauty stood before him, and she was his to command. His thoughts swirled a bit, but then refocused on the task at hand.

Through one last tunnel, he found the source, but was quite suprised at it... A fellow Grim, Syreena at that. Hiding in the bowels of the Undercity, he glanced at his Succubus, hair wet with slime and sweat, her body still as perfect as ever. She shot him back a look of anger as she melded into invisibilty. The voice stopped, Lupen walked on ahead and spoke from behind Syreena, attempting to sound genuinely kind, but the words came out wrong, as they do always.

"What are you doing here, Syreena?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Syreena stared at the sword curiously. It had gone suddenly silent, which was odd for it. Then, in her mind, she heard the soft words of the Tyrant, "Little corpsse worry no more, for Warneshi hasss returned..."

"Warneshi," she whispered, elated to hear his voice again. She was so distracted that she didn't notice Bear's welcoming bark to her visitor.

"What are you doing here, Syreena?"

Startled, the little rogue tensed in a near panic, taking a few seconds before she recognized the voice. Her mind switched gears immediately, going back to the days in life, during times when she was either caught or nearly caught making collections for the alchemist.

It was dark in this tiny back cave, she reasoned. The torchlight from the outer hall flickered into the main room of her hideout, but very little reached this far back. The opening to this cave was tiny, and her back was to him. She figured chances were good that he didn't see the sword. But what if he did?

Syreena took to the shadows just long enough to quickly wrap the sword and slide it back into its hiding place between the two rocks. Then she turned, forcing a smile onto her face as she squeezed through the tight crevice to the outer room.

"I was umm... I was looking for some cockroaches to feed to my spider," she answered, doing a fair job of concealing her nervousness. She kept herself between Lupen and the crevice she just crawled out from, and she motioned to the blue spider perched in a web above a small rabbit cage. "What are you doing?"

Though what she really wanted to know was, how did he find her here? For so many months, this had been her secret place where she felt safe keeping her beloved pets and treasures. Just outside her cave, she could sit and watch the bats flying back and forth as she sharpened her daggers or cleaned her armor. Often, when it wasn't raining, she would sit at the mouth of the sewers while she did these chores and watch the younger Horde battling the Scarlets at the tower.

Her forehead creased in worry as she realized she would have to find a new hiding place now. Maybe it should be more out of the way instead of conveniently in a city.

The more immediate concern though was what if he saw the sword? She had already made up her mind that she was not going to give it up. Now that Warneshi had spoken to her, she was even more determined to keep it, at least until she could speak to him more. Feeling much like a cornered animal, she rested her hands lightly on the daggers at her sides as she watched the warlock closely.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Lupen made an attempt to crack a smile, quite rare for him, especially to a female (being of a rather shy demenor.) The smile came out a bit looking like a wolf would to grit its teeth before a kill. Realizing this, Lupen bowed his head slightly and reverted his look to resemble that of at least a half-sane being. Lupen paced around the dank area, eyeing Syreena and the creatures, even stopping to pick up a cockroach and placing it in the Recluse's web.

Lupen stopped to answer Syreena's question, and faced her, "Honestly, I am unsure. I seemed to have an attraction to this area, it's been ages since I've visited the Undercity, and something about this area in the sewers seemed to be rotten and enjoyable." Lupen stopped to look around, allowing a weak breeze to move his unkept hair from side to side. Jhorantia walked silently and transparent behind him. The succubus leaned on his left side, licked the bottom of his ear-lobe, and whispered in Demonic, "Master, I find no reason for our stay. I do not trust this woman." The Dread Mage wanted to strike his succubus for speaking aloud when she should be silent, but she had some validity in her claim, something was slightly amyss. If not by Syreena, then by the surroundings.

He paused to eye a pile of decaying Scarlets in the near distance and once again turned to his Rogue friend (or, at least, whom he considered a friend, he is truely unsure if the feeling is mutual.) "Dear Sister..." He began, looking at her feet and to her daggers, not suspecting anything sinister, but merely inspecting the arcane energies that bristled through her Thunderwood Poker, a curious little shiv. "Is this a home to you? It seems you've settled in fairly well. A lovely place no less." The Warlock paced a bit more, his eyes meeting Syreena's, attempting to give a friendly warmth, but failing like he would a proper smile.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Syreena silently chided herself for being so jumpy. This wasn't some monster come to rip her to shreds and steal all her treasures. This was Lupen, who always gave her crunchies to help keep her safe when they fought together in the deep, dark places. She guessed by his behavior that he didn't see the sword, and her secret, or at least one of them, was still safe.

Although she remained in front of the crevice, she was much more relaxed. She leaned back against the stone wall as she watched the spider wrap the latest critter in her webs. She still wanted the Dread Mage to leave, so she could return to the sword and try to talk to Warneshi some more, but she didn't want to act suspicious. Then she broke into a bright smile as Lupen complimented her home, and she nodded.

"Yes, this is my home," she answered, and then paused. She studied him as she continued. "But it is a secret home. Nobody knows I live here. I don't want anyone to know. If Weavers finds out, he'll eat Stu. Chavie named him."

That should be reason enough to explain why it was so important to the rogue that this place remain hidden. While it wasn't the complete truth, it was truth. Chavie did name the rabbit, and Weavers did threaten, on several occasions, to eat him.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Lupen smirked a bit and chuckled at the mention of Weavers' name. "I won't mention it to anyone, honestly, I'll most probably forget the location after I leave..." Lupen was prepared to bid Syreena goodbye and merely assume her home in the sewers was just another one of young (or how he precieved to be young) Syreena's antics. A chill wind entered from the outside, the wind startled Lupen, it seemed to speak, "Fool! Fool!" the wind whistled and mocked the Warlock. A bit of parinoia overcame Lupen, something was hardly right. He turned to his invisible Succubus and silently spelled out the word, "Stay", on his dry, cracked, and dead lips.

The Dread Mage smiled, nodded, and bid Syreena "good-day", and trailed off back into the sewers and eventually into darkness without his sultry companion, at least not for now.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Warneshi was iritated when he felt Syreena try to mask his prison with mere cloth. He did not know why at first she had felt the sudden need to interupt him and walk away, but he knew the rogue, and knew the reason was she must be hiding. Warneshi calmed his rage that had started to build and reached out from the blades hiding place, he let his mind fall upon the world around the blade, he searched for his location and those who might be near.

Warneshi felt cold and dank, a cave perhaps, he could feel the presence of life and unlife. The stench of life was weak, but the emenations of those who lived on after death, far from it. The undercity it was then, perhaps the little corpse had some home here. Warneshi did not care, he only wanted to find her mind again, to twist her and use her, to help him bring about her glorious return.

Warneshi slowly spread his will farther and farther until he came across a familiar force, he had found her again, but she was not alone. He had been correct in assuming she wanted to hide the blade, wise of her indeed. Warneshi felt another with her as well, her knew this one, ohh yes did he know it well. Warneshi could feel his hunger call out through the blade, he could feel his will give way only slightly, he wanted Lupens soul, and he wanted it now. Warneshi pushed down his hunger for now, Lupen would be usefull, and no need to destroy that which is needed.

Warneshi looked back to Syreena, speaking like a whisper into her mind again.

"Little corpsse your worry iss unneeded, Lupen will not wissh to keep Warneshi here, he will wissh Warneshi set free; for thiss iss jusst what he owess Warneshi. Bring him back to here, let him touch the blade, he will help uss, many can not be trussted, but Lupen...he iss key to Warneshi'ss return."

Warneshi smiled to himself, none would suspect his true goals, his deceptions had been well placed.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Regna-N'Etah puzzled over the journal he had found in the embassy during his search. Though the journal did not give him much information, that combined with the ashes found just after...it was time to assume the worst.

Muttering curses as he hurried out, there was only one thing he could do. With first the blade missing and now this information...while it might be too late now, he had to start setting up warnings and defenses as best he could. He headed back to the guild hall, and begin to prepare.