Afternoons between the hours of three and five in Summer's Rest was typically very crowded. The Pandaren hosts could be seen working hastily to attend to the services of all the people that pass through, tending to their needs. Even through this 'hustle and bustle' around her, Mizue managed to find several small pockets where she could relax and take the time to get some more reading done. Taking one of the many provided books within the Shrine collected through either Pandaren and Azerothian accounts to start perusing through while waiting on assaults, or for another venture throughout Northern Azeroth accompanied with the Wandering Saiin, Valindria. Finishing a page, Mizue moistens the end of her index finger against her tongue before turning the page of her most recent book, to continue scanning her eyes over the text written in Dwarven. A language that Mizue was not totally fluent in, but managed to get through the first couple of chapters with what she knew for conversational purposes.
“Mizue. .. .. Mizue!”
“I'm readin', Silver.”
“But this is important!”
Exhale passes Mizue's ruddy red lips as she lies the book down against her legs, which were propped up and together in front of her to act like a shelf. Peering down toward her automaton companion standing only as high as the soft cushion she was presently sitting upon, who was doing its best to put on a saddened look across its metallic features.
“.. who hates you?”
“Your High Inquisitor! When I was showing him all what you were doing, I could have sworn he made some rude comments about me. And wanted to dispose of me. He told me not to have you send me to him next time.”
“Perhaps you scare 'im. You should be proud of yourself. After all, it takes a lot to actually bring fear to a child of Mulgore.”
“.. You're not taking me seriously.”
“Of course I am. But very well, I will meet with 'im the next time then. You can jus' sit by and look adorable while he and I chat about what I have learned. .. Speaking of which, it's about time I speak with my first Grim member. Since I don't want you interruptin' me during this interview, I want you to go out and fish me up some jewel danio out in the Vale.”
“Fish?! You want me near water? No no no, toots! You remember the last time I fell into a lake?”
“You were almost a chewtoy to a crocolisk.” “I was almost a chewtoy to a crocolisk.”
Closing her book and sliding her legs off the comforter, Mizue stands tall over the small automaton before her. Having already been given one of the robot's small and protable recording devices, which she would use to record the speech between herself and the other she would be talking with. “Very well, then go—I dunno, go count the amount of loose gold coins over in the vault.”
“Fifty-eight hundred and seventy-seven gold, thirty-six silver, and ninety-two copper.” Golden-Silver places its hands on his hips and nods once in a matter-of-fact fashion up to Mizue.
“I am goin' to shut ya off.”
“You're right, I might have miscounted! I'll be back later!,” voices Silver hastily as he turns and runs off through the Shrine, whipping itself past the many set of feet and legs passing through. Mizue stands just shy of the closed off section she was seated in, watching her companion run off. Just before fixating her eyes over onto the wide-brimmed hat worn by another female blood elf coming into her direction. Notable by the fact that she was accompanied by a chilling water elemental at her left side. A faint grin comes across the features of the blood knight-turned-paladin at the first of her interview victims appears.
“Right on time too.”
Last edited by Mizue on Fri Jul 25, 2014 11:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
`` .. is a world where innocents are the first to die worth saving? ´´
Commencing SPARC Unit #SR388 Recording. Interview with Subject #RnJ5Z3IkLU1hZ2U: Frygyd.
Upon eyes meeting and the approach, Frygyd would greet Mizue warmly. In return, Mizue offers a slight smile to a fellow sin'dorei while greeting the mage in return.
“Sorry if I pulled ya' away from other matters. I can understand how important studies are. But I promise ya' this will
no' take too lon'.”
“I always make time for another of my kind.”
The Field-Captain nods once and then motions to her left to the pair of cushions within the sectioned off area here in Summer's Rest, to offer privacy to parties. “Please, sit and be comfortable.”
Upon her invitation, Frygyd would enter the indicated enclosure and make herself comfortable upon one of the offered cushioned seats within. Mizue takes her seat across from the mage, having already worn an spot in the cushion from her earlier reading position. Reaching down to take in some paper and a long quill to jot down notes that might prove to be important during this session. Frygyd removes her hat and staff to set off to the side, on which to claim later.
“The skill of a magic weaver, as yer skills dictate, are one that I have no' seen wielded much. My factions have mostly recruited soldiers who have shown prowess in taking up sword and shield for the most part, so that intrigued me much.” Frygyd could be seen to raises her eyebrow at the statement, but then nods amiably as she listens to the fellow blood elf.
“So that leads me to primarily ask ya' wot was it that .. kindled yer relationship with the arcane?,” Mizue questions while dipping her quill into her ink, prepared to take any interesting details that might sprout from the mage's mouth. Frygyd looks ponderous for the longest time before making her response.
“Honestly the studies were undertaken as a form of protection from the darker fel magicks that call to me. When I was younger it felt they would take me over if I were to surrender to them.”
Mizue thinks about that a moment before commenting. “I .. for lack of a better way of puttin' it, am no' a normal .. sin'dorei. My adoration with magic was more or less imperceptible. So to find ones who wield it fiercely interests me.”
“We each have skills we have honed. Many with the same outcome as others who persue the paths, but how we reach those paths makes us who we are.”
“I wholeheartedly believe that. -- Were ya' born and raised within the glorious walls of Silvermoon?”
Frygyd shakes her head slightly in response. “No. My family lived aways on the outskirts in a fishing village.”
Mizue blinks her eyes at that, perhaps in a quizzical manner, then nods and writes a little bit upon her paper. As she looks up, Mizue notices that Frygyd had drawn out a small flask containing caraway burnwine, to which she offers over to the one interviewing her. “It was my mother who helped me when the nightmares began. She said I could either surrender to them .. or find a means to fight them.”
A nod as she partakes in the offered drink, Mizue voices her thanks before asking a follow-up: “Nightmares? Of what type of terrors were you having?"
“Demonic terrors. They plague me still from time to time. But I have ways of drowning out the voices.” Quick to add to her words upon making eye contact with one another. “I am not mad .. I don't do what the voices say.”
“Forgive me as I inquire more: Were these voices trying to .. get you to perform for their bidding? To manipulate you? Or more to taunt you?”
“All of the above. It was not until I was able to exert my will and summon a companion to my aid that they retreated somewhat. I sought in the Arcane a way to push back the voices. Then sought in the realms of Fire .. but it was in the spheres of Frost and cold that I found an ally. This is why it is rare that the elemental is not by my side.”
Listening intently as words explaining past tutelage is voiced, Mizue was writing this and that while the mage was speaking; ears listening and eyes glancing to and fro to read Frygyd's behavior as she speaks. Recording this on her paper as she listens, but also doubling up with that small recording device resting on the bed beside her. To go back and listen to it, just in case her ears missed any details due to the faint background clamor. Due to her writing, Mizue had missed when Frygyd's calmly resting hands in her lap had an the odd twitch of a finger which could be evident now and then.
“Yes, I recall seein' yer .. watery companion with ya' from time to time. More often than no'.”
“More often than no'.”
Mizue nods again as she finishes up her script, then looks over her own notes a bit to make sure she got everything. Once satisfied, she eyes the mage once more. “So, movin' forward some, wot is it that brought ya' to seek out this affiliation of the Grim? Was it to find any further salvation and companionship to aid ya', or a different avenue?”
“The Grim called on a small cadre of blood elves called the Lights Hope of which I was a member at the time. The Grim needed mages and they had a powerful one named Dree who had a couple apprentices. I was one studying under her. Sometime later the Lights Hope broke apart and the current leader of the Grim, Syreena, invited me to continue fighting alongside the Grim. It was a time in my life when I was feeling lost and rudderless. Syreena gave me a goal.”
To that name, Mizue makes note of the name 'Dree,' circling it to come back to at some point. “I see. Was this 'Dree' that ya' apprenticed under had the same adoration for the fields of Frost that ya' found comfort in?”
“Dree was a very powerful mage .. and she dabbled in all the spheres of magic equally.” Mizue falls back into writing some details, making also a note of the name 'Syreena' on her postings. Attaching arrows to the name with some of what she learned from the mage. After which she hands the flask back over to its owner. Frygyd takes the flask of caraway burnwine back and takes a sip from it letting the alcohol burn on her tongue.
“Syreena. I had issued to speak with her as well; I wus unaware she held a more .. dominatin' position within the Grim. -- Wot was the goal she gave ya', if I may ask?”
“The goal was a permanent place amongst the Grim. To no longer be a wayward mercenary for hire.”
“Do ya' believe to have reached that goal within these ranks? A piece of a puzzle to further complete ya'? Or do ya' see many of the ones ya' fight and stand alongside more of a family? .. Or simply .. just people with like goals.”
“They are not all blood elves obviously .. but neither is Syreena. Still they have clear purpose which I often need. It is too easy for the voices to sway me to their cause when I have none of my own.”
Glancing again over her writings, Mizue was one to always double-check her thoughts and words. So far, so good. “Do ya' have any regrets? Any .. instances that ya' wish ya' could take back since bein' amon'st the Grim? If ya' wish no' to comment, I understand.”
Frygyd seems to answer very pointedly. “I don't do regrets. It's not my way.”
“Admirable.” Scanning her paper again to see if there was any missed details to follow-up upon. “Oh, one final inquiry: I am still learnin' many faces and styles within these ranks. Is there anyone within the Grim who had the biggest impact on ya'? Or that ya' learned from?”
“I will always be grateful to Syreena .. but as for learning I have always been very internally focused. The Grim do not field many mages who are as .. obsessed as I am to learn from.”
Mizue nods once more as she takes a moment to think back, think about the past faces she had seen from behind her normally worn helm. “Aye, ya' are correct. I have not seen many who have .. flung fire and ice within the ranks. Interestin'.”
“Do not misquote me .. the Grim have some mages .. they are simply not very visible.”
Scratching out something on her paper at the mage's correcting comment, before dipping her pen back down into the vial resting on the floor. “Perhaps I will try to seek them out of hidin' then. -- All in all, I than' ya' for your time to speak with me. I have indeed learned a great deal from yer words.”
Frygyd inclines her head to Mizue. “It was my pleasure.”
Mizue pushes up to a stand once more off her cushion, with a faint pop in her spine. As she does so, Frygyd takes up her hat and staff again. “Be well sister blood elf.”
“I look forward to fightin' alongside ya' in the future. Take care of yourself. And yer companion.” Watching as Frygyd exits herself from the private confinement, allowing Mizue to expel a soft exhale past her now dry lips.
“One down, three to go.”
Last edited by Mizue on Fri Jul 25, 2014 11:34 am, edited 2 times in total.
`` .. is a world where innocents are the first to die worth saving? ´´
Commencing SPARC Unit #SR388 Recording. Interview with Subject #Q2FuYWktRHJ1aWQ: Canai.
It came .. suddenly. The prowl from the druid managed to get Mizue, one who was normally very firm in her stance, to actually to a step back in surprise when Canai materialized out of nowhere. Upon shifting to her Tauren form, Canai offers a wave toward Mizue in greeting. Blinking her green eyes toward her a couple of times, then returning the friendly gesture to her.
“Startled me a lil' there. Than' ya' again for speaking with me. Please, come in. Make yourself comfy. I have some .. snacks out if ya' need a nibble.” Making that gesture inside of the enclosure to offer some shield from the outside noises, where a small tray of sliced fruit was set to munch on. Canai steps over into that area, eying the blood elf as she follows within toward her comforter where her quill and paper was resting to take note.
“How goes the killing?," Canai questions.
Mizue blinks as she makes a small pause, then responds. “Oh, it went as well as it could. I believe some of our associates are still out in the Barrens making rounds. Yanno, against the 'Alliance scum' and all. Please, make yourself comfy.” Mizue grabs up her nearby pad of paper and quill she was using to write and jot down notes before moving to sit on her comforter across from Canai, who instead opted to sit against the floor. Making sure that her quill had enough ink on it, dabbing it against the side to remove excess.
“I suppose we should begin a little from the beginnin': I take it ya' have roots from Mulgore?”
“Yes, though that story is not very interesting. It gets better when I tried to join the Cenarion Circle.”
“That was were I was headin' next: Wot interested ya' to seek out the path of druidhood?” Asking as she sets her quill near her paper to be prepared to write.
“When I was young, I heard the call. I applied as fast as I could. This is when I first met the Night Elves; I only heard stories prior to that.”
Nods as she begins to write down notes upon listening. “Has yer .. association alongside the Grim hurt any of yer interactions with yer fellow druids, be they of the night elf blood?”
“I'm not part of the Circle anymore,' Canai confesses toward the bloof elf. “Not since the elves tried to kill me. That's when I found the Grim.”
“Why in the world did they try to kill ya', if I may ask?”
“That's a mystery, really. Perhaps it was just a hatred of my race, or the Horde.”
With a faint groan, Mizue nods again and jots that down as well.
“Regardless, I knew what needed to be done. I suspect you know as well.”
“I suppose I am learnin', indeed. -- So those events lead ya' here to the Grim. What else did ya' find here that ya' did no' gain from other affiliations? Outside of, ya' know, not having to worry about a dagger in yer side.”
“I wouldn't know, as I joined when I was really young. War occupies most of my time. But I must be good at it, the Enforcers saw it fit to call me the 'Shade'. You might know he him better as Abric. That was a long time ago.”
Nodding in understanding. “I have seen your prowess first hand, so very aware of what you are capable of. -- As for Abric, I have only heard that name, but no face to associate with it.” Mizue writes down Abric's name on her pad, drawing a circle around it to look up information later on. A note to herself. “Only a couple of more questions, then I will free ya'.”
Canai nods to that.
“Ya' possess any regrets for any of yer past deeds? Anythin' ya' could have taken back and redone?”
“No, I have always followed the Mandate and I have no regrets. Unless you're asking about personal regrets. That would be a story for another time.”
Mizue's eyes had fallen downward onto her paper to write. “Of course, the 'Mandate'. -- And I may have to bug ya' about that another time.” Making a couple notes more on her paper, then frees up her green eyes to look across at Canai again. “I am still .. learnin' faces, names, and styles of the people within the Grim. Is there anyone who ya' can say has had the biggest influence on ya' since bein' a part of the Grim?”
“Yes, but many of them are no longer with us.”
“Is there one name that stands out?”
“Abric would be one, but you'll need to find him first. Yemana is a better choice, I think.”
Mizue could be seen nodding as she taps the end of her quill against the written and circled names on her paper. Then nodding at Yemana's name, to also write that down beside Abric's. “A fellow feral beast, seems poetic.”
“Yes, we do have a lot in common.”
“All in all, I than' ya' for the time and ya' speakin' with me. Is there anythin' yah'd like to ask me before ya' depart back to yer business?” Lifting her eyes back over to Canai to await any retorting questions if she had them.
Shaking her head, “No, not right now. Watch yourself out there.”
Setting her quill back into her inkwell with a faint grin upon her young features. “I plan to each step I take. Than' ya' again, 'Shade'.”
With much of the same flavor that she appears to Mizue in the first place, Canai rises back to her feet and bows before Mizue. In a blink of her emerald eyes did the 'Shade' slip back into the open abyss, vanishing away from Mizue's eyesight. Pulling up to a stand and walking to the entrance of the enclosure, looking to and fro for a moment.
“And just like that, gone.”
Last edited by Mizue on Fri Jul 25, 2014 11:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
`` .. is a world where innocents are the first to die worth saving? ´´
Commencing SPARC Unit #SR388 Recording. Interview with Subject #Q295b3RsLURydWlk: Coyotl.
Location: Thunder Bluff.
It was hot. Very, very hot.
“Y'know, from the right angle .. I think I can see Stormwind from here.” Posted atop of one of the mailboxes, G-Silver's hand was up over his eyes as he peers westward from high above Mulgore. Standing alongside Mizue high atop Thunderbluff, this meeting called for the Field Captain to leave the sanctuary of the Shrine to meet her next Grim member out here in the capital city. From this height, every once in a while a gust of breeze would drift through mountainous spires to give some relief from the heated weather that was cast over most of Kalimdor.
“Good, you can tell me if the people there are sweating as much as we are over here. Do your eyes a favor and help me keep a look out for this .. Coyotl.”
“That's a weird name. How come you can't make friends with people with normal sounding names?” Hopping down from atop the mailbox to land on the ground beside Mizue's feet, watching the various Tauren go about their daily grind.
“Says the one wit' an acronym for a title.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
“.. And why did you bring me -milk- to drink, out of all things?”
“Umm, hello?! Because we're in Thunder Bluff. The joke writes itself!”
While taking a small drink from her bit of ice cold milk that G-Silver had purchased from one of the vendors to try and keep his owner cool, Mizue's eyes look over the rim of her mug toward a male Tauren approaching them. A swallow of her drink and then lowering her beverage to hand it down to G-Silver, who extends its arms to take the mug.
“Not many blood elves tend to venture up here. You must be Mizue.”
“Affirmative. And I take it ya' are Coyotl; nice to meet you.” An incline of her head toward the large man in greeting.
“As you are aware, the Barrens is a hot spot for activity lately that still needs the attention of many. While I do not intend to be rude, let us begin this talk quickly so that I may return to other areas where I am needed.”
An understanding nod from the field captain as she picks up the embersilk knapsack resting by her feet, taking it up by the leather strap to shoulder once more. Knowing what it is like to be needed post-haste on the fields of battle, where being away can cost lives. “Very well. Speaking of 'hot spots,' is ther' a private location we can go—preferably in the shade?”
“There is, follow me.”
Mizue adjusts her seating amongst the rug she was sitting upon inside of the hut that Coyotl takes her, getting as comfortable as she could there on the ground. Her quill and paper resting in her lap, removed from her open bag nearby. As per usual, G-Silver would activate its recording program to take in the words spoken by each party. Once situated she eyes over to the seated Coyotl who was awaiting the interrogation of his past and present.
“Like I 'ave started with others I have spoken with, let's go from the beginning. You are the secon' of Tauren race that I have spoken with during my Trial. Are ya' born and raised here in Mulgore?”
“No surprise, I was born in Bloodhoof Village. My parents were a brave and a spirit walker, who both tended to the well-being of our people in vastly different ways.” Coyotl would take notice of Mizue already beginning to write things upon her paper, but continues to speak. "My druidic calling struck me when I was very young, and it led to many pranks played on our people.” What could be assumed as a fatigued, yet low exhale passes his mouth to interrupt his speaking, but continuing soon after it passes. “It was there that I earned the name Coyotl; I don't think anyone outside of family has called me Niyol since then.”
Jotting down small tidbits on her provided paper, new names seem to always perk the arousal of the blood elf. Even in this case where she was learning the alternate moniker for the druid.
“I have also spoken with one Canai not too long ago, and how he too answered the call of druidhood at a young age. Yet his relationship wit' the Cenarion Circle seemed to rather bittersweet in the end. Was it crazy night elves out to kill you too which lead you toward the Grim?”
A grunt from Coyotl, “On the contrary, I joined the Grim after I heard of the opening of the Dark Portal. I was anxious to aid in the battle beyond the Portal and my family urged me to find a group to align myself with. It took almost no time to find the Grim and I was absorbed into the fold rapidly.”
This had been Mizue's first time hearing of the Grim tied to being around during an event which happened some odd years ago. While the High Inquisitor had mentioned that the roots of the faction ran deep, Mizue was mentally piecing together a proverbial time frame in her head. Breaking from her moment of thought process to make a quick note, not wanting to appear as if she was dazing when Coyotl had to be elsewhere. Clearing her throat softly and pressing forward on a follow-up inquiry.
“I assume that your family must 'ave been relieved to know that ya' allied yourself with some .. notable individuals. Anything that you saw or acquired—experienced, even—while in the ranks that was not present elsewhere?”
“Like-minded people, eager to throw themselves at the vast hordes fighting for Illidan. Companions, who would drop everything at the call for arms. Mind you, the Grim were the first organization that aligned myself with, but I've yet to see another group as loyal appearing from the outside.”
Absorbing those words in, Mizue would take an extended moment to write down some of what Coyotl had spoke in good working about the Grim. Being still somewhat of a recruit amongst them, Mizue had hoped to find some of that same tight-knit connection with accomplices here that she had while in the ranks of the Shattered Sun Offensive and later the Argent Crusade. The field captain did not as of yet have many people she could fully depend on to be at her aide if need-be, other than her longtime friend, Valindria. But all of those that she had spoken with have said nothing but positive things about the Grim, yet Mizue felt she would just have to see it all through her own emerald eyes.
“One final question before you must rush back to where you are needed: do you house any regrets?”
Coyotl seems to take a moment to think about that question before facing the blood elf to answer. “Only in that I have no power to stop the wounds that keep ailing our world. We slay one, and another evil is on its heels.”
“I .. couldn't agree more. Thank you for allowin' me to steal your attention for a while, but it was not in vain. I have .. truly got to thinking on a lot of what you said. I am sure you will see me aiding out there in the Barrens when I can.”
“Any help will be appreciated. But now I must take my leave. Good travels.” Coyotl pulls back up to his feet with a nod, then slipping aside to brush his hand through the leather-covered entrance to the hut and slip away into the heated afternoon, leaving Mizue in the shade of the hut.
Once again did Mizue exhale as she glances down to her notes that were written, while reaching to pick up that small mug of milk she had been drinking earlier. Bringing it to her lips to sip, then immediately twisting her head to the side to spit out the warm tasting teat cream aside to the floor. Tongue leaves her mouth as to try and get that horrid taste away from her mouth, sighing softly as a result.
“.. milk was a bad choice.”
Last edited by Mizue on Fri May 29, 2015 1:29 am, edited 8 times in total.
`` .. is a world where innocents are the first to die worth saving? ´´
Commencing SPARC Unit #SR388 Recording. Interview with Subject #U3lyZWVuYS1Sb2d1ZQ: Syreena.
Location: Summer's Rest.
“This will be the last one to deal wit', promise.”
“Good, because my memory bank is almost filled with all this yak-yak-yak.” G-Silver grumble as it was tracking its internal usage numbers, seeing it more higher than normal. Set pacing back and forth some between the large cushions there in the Shrine's Summer's Rest while Mizue was waiting for her last interviewee from the Grim's ranks. In the meantime her attention was more inside of her book again, loosely reading it until Syreena had shown up.
“Once this is all over and I listen to it all again to refresh myself on their words, you can clear it out of your storage.”
“Affirmative! Because I have better thin-- ARGH!” Silver's 'death groan' and clash when it falls over causes Mizue to avert her eyes away from her book to look where it ended up. Catching him down against the ground, beside a pair of thin legs standing over him which he must have inadvertently run into during its pacing.
“Oops~ Does that belong to you?” The point of a leather-covered hand down to the automaton who was picking itself up off the ground. G-Silver shakes its head before looking up toward the long-haired Forsaken woman standing tall over it.
“KYAAA~~!!” For whatever reason it was, the machine was afraid of the undead. Having gotten back to its feet with a haste, scrambling past Mizue's position to hide himself behind the large comforter that the blood elf was sitting on with her book in her lap. Causing the field captain to roll her eyes before looking over toward Syreena again. Shifting some to move back to a stand, politely acknowledging the fellow Grim member.
“.. Don't mind him. He's just here to .. listen,” speaks Mizue toward Syreena, before glancing back over her left shoulder at the automaton peeking out from behind the cushion. “.. and not say anythin'. But thank you for speaking with me. A seat if you wish.” Gesturing over to the secondary comforter across from her if Syreena wished to get off her feet. In the meantime Mizue would set her marked book to the side and seat herself again, picking up her papers and quill once more. Syreena did take a seat over on the other, crossing her legs 'indian-style' while awaiting this chat to begin.
“Okay, let's begin. I have never .. well, questioned a Forsaken about their lives prior to postmortem status, so can you tell me a little about yourself when you were .. more alive than you are now?”
“When I was still alive, my dad lost me in a card game to an dirty old gambler.”
“.. huh.” Mizue was a little dumbfounded at hearing how that came out. This was not the first time she had heard of people, especially women, being used as a type of currency. Yet she had never heard such happening between a father and daughter.
“My new master was an alchemist, but he didn't make enough to cover his gambling debts. He taught me how to help him pick the right flowers and make potions out of them.” Writing would start by Mizue on her paper, simple notes of things that come forth from Syreena's tale. “But he also taught me how to help him steal to help with his debts. Sometime between my seventeenth and twentieth years, I was in jailed in Andorhal for murder. I became sick with the plague and died.”
Despite being terror-stricken and hiding still behind the comforter, Mizue was hoping G-Silver was still recording the words from Syreena since she was taking notice that her ink was almost out, having forgotten to purchase more from one of the scribes.
“I served the Lich King for a while, but my mind wasn't my own then, and I don't remember too much about that. Then one day my mind decided to wake up in Tirisfal Glades.”
A nod of her head to acknowledge again, this was the field captain's first real 'mano e mano' interrogation with one of the Dark Lady's people. There was so much she wanted to ask, so much she wanted to fill her mind with, but due to the lack of ink on her quill in conjunction with G-Silver's rapidly diminishing data bank, Mizue would unfortunately have to 'cut to the chase' and ask the more important questions.
“What lead you to join up with The Grim?”
“I did odd jobs for silver coins sometimes. Turns out that it's a lot more dangerous to steal from orcs and trolls than it was from humans! My travels took me to the Barrens. While there, I met a man named Sammuel, and the Alliance were picking on him. They had fancy armor and big weapons, and they were much better trained than Sammuel and I. They could have killed us, but they just toyed with us. Sammuel was a Grim who also used to be human, but he chose to become Forsaken because he was in love with his sister, who was also a Grim. The humans at the Crossroads were his friends in life, and they were attacking him and mocking him as a traitor. He was the first person who ever talked to me like I was a real person, not a slave or a prisoner, so I decided to investigate his people further. I joined The Grim not too long after that."
That was a lot of information that Mizue had to take note of. So much in fact at the black lines from her semi-script writing was starting to break up in places, losing its flow of ink. With a faint hiss, not directed toward Syreena, Mizue sets her quill aside and affixes her eyes across on Syreena to listen more in-depthly.
“Definitely quite the way to be brought into the whole. Was there anythin' specific that helped to allure your interest with the Grim that was not elsewhere?”
To that did Syreena give the blood elf a rather puzzled expression. “I don't understand? I didn't look for somewhere to go really. I just met some Grims, and I liked what I saw, and I became one of them. I never looked anywhere else for a home.”
Taking that into account, but not able to really write down a note or two about Syreena's choices. “You 'ave undoubtedly gone through a life—or two—filled with a number of obstacles and choices thrown at you. Any regrets?”
“No,” Syreena spoke pointedly. “The hardships in life led to me being in jail, which led to me eating the sick bread. That is what made me Forsaken. If I didn't die, I'd still be human. If I was human, I would not be Grim.”
“Hm, I suppose you are right. Seems that what happens to us is done so for a reason. Whether we accept it or not.” Pausing as Mizue thinks about her if she had anything to ask, knowing that both time and space was of the essence. But her eyes seem to flash for a moment as she recollects her earlier conversation with Frygyd, and how she mentioned Syreena on a couple of occasions. But there was one issue that still puzzled Mizue, and this was the perfect time to get an answer on it.
“One final thin', which is why I am glad you were able to talk to me. A couple of days ago I sat in this same enclosure and spoke with the mage, Frygyd. She spoke 'igh of ya', and how you also were once also a leader in The Grim's ranks. Did .. something happen to upset that?”
“Before me, Abric was in command of all the Grims. Then he had to go away on a mission up north to scout a new continent. He decided to leave me in charge in his absence. After several months, he returned. A few months later, I gave command back to him. It was too much work, and the officers I had were no fun. Abric is sneaky. Sometimes I wonder if he left me in charge because he knew I wouldn't be able to do it for long, and I'd let him take over again when he got back. I've seen him do sneaky things like that before.”
“Abric—there's that name again. Canai mentioned him as well. If I had more time .. and ink, I would seek him out. But alas, another time.”
“Commanding the Grims is hard work, and tiring, and thankless. It wears people down after a while," Syreena continues. "There've been many leaders--Maledictus, Grainger, Lascivious, Regnanetah, Abric, me, Greebo. Hmm, I think that's all of them. The thing I learned from that, is we serve the Mandate, not any one person. No matter what ever happens to the Grim's leader, another will take his place, and we will still be Grim forever.”
Those words had Mizue's full attention as Syreena speaks, taking notice of her tone and expression as she makes mention that The Grim was here to stay forever. That type of command and morale was actually missed by Mizue. Remembering standing in the ranks, amongst Humans, Orcs, Draenei, and even Forsaken brothers and sisters in arms as Highlord Tirion spoke to the armies on each dawn. Before each deadly battle against Arthas's legions of Scourge.
“I don't doubt that The Grim will survive through wha'ever is placed before 'em It is difficult to find strong-minded affiliations, lookin' for more than just to make a brief impact on this world. — But I digress; thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Syreena. You've been a notable wake-up call to me.”
The rogue was seen to nod and uncross her legs to stand again. Mizue glances over a moment to where G-Silver was hiding for a moment. Upon looking back, Mizue blinks to find Syreena had vanished just as silently as she approached her earlier. Like Canai, slipping into the open void to wherever.
“.. is she gone?" G-Silver peeks out from around the corner of that large comforter to look around the area.
“Who knows: she's a rogue. Chances are good she's right behind ya'.”
“DON'T KID LIKE THAT!”
Last edited by Mizue on Fri Jul 25, 2014 11:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
`` .. is a world where innocents are the first to die worth saving? ´´
For one like Mizue who was an avid reader and spent the majority of her free time bound to the pages of some type of manuscript, doing research and back study was technically commonplace for her. Yet to find the history and backstory to members of The Grim seemed almost like delving into someone's best kept and intimate secrets. Hard to unlock, much like the story Mizue found on what could be assumed to be old, almost faded journal entries.
At first Mizue began her search within the halls of the Shrine amidst the massive amount of books and papers collected from Azeroth. One small lead led her to another, and then another, and so on, ad naseum. Stacks of books piled atop of one another along the floor, out of any particular order. Several Pandaren members looking on in curiosity on what this blood elf was searching for. Her readings made notion of the famed Brewmaster, Chen Stormstout. Normally this would not have been too important for the present matters, but Mizue found a link between him and The Grim from some number of years ago. Which would then point to trails of some of his recipes that were documented. Ideas of brews that he wanted to come up with, but with ingredients that were not found here on the isle of Pandaria. Causing him to venture northward into the greater continent of Azeroth, where during his travels some of his recipes were found. Traded. Documented. Sold.
Goblins apparently kept records of everything when it came to money matters, documenting transactions and auctions that both died and were successful. Among them came up one of Chen Stormstout's recipe books, which had found its way into Ratchet. Picked up by some means by an orc Brewmaster by the name of Drohn, who sold it off-market to one Ashagga Wolfskin for some fifty gold pieces—a steal for what something of that nature could have gone for nowadays. Mizue had made the trip via air to Ratchet, to track down Drohn to ask if he had any remembrance of that recipe book. Being an apprentice under Chen, the orc did know well of what happened to the book, which is where Mizue would first learn the name of Ashagga. Apparently he and Ashagga were friends, and while Drohn did not know the full details, the long-lost Grim member had mentioned, perhaps in passing, about her lab in the depths of the Undercity.
Mizue had spent nearly seven hours rummaging through the remnants of a now dusty and unused lab station within the halls of the old Lordaeron capital. For whatever reason the other alchemists did not bother using this workstation, perhaps out of respect? Mizue did not make a mess of the situation, but happened to find writings from Ashagga. Most of which were her musings over experiments, concoctions, and just rantings. One of which was about the lock that destroyed a number of her tools that secured the same recipe book of Chen Stormstout that lead her here. Full circle.
The recipe book was gone, perhaps stolen.
Mizue had read and learned what she could, utilizing her ability to read and comprehend over a hundred words a minute through the writing. Learning of some of Ashagga's past and youth within Hillsbrad, leading up to her escape with her mother into what is known now to be Orgrimmar. Then later discovered pieces that tied together Ashagga's fate, on how she was apparently killed beneath the towering spires of Thunder Bluff via a runaway kodo charge. Accounts of travels to and from the innards of the Caverns of Time mentioned as well, but no full details of why. It frustrated Mizue somewhat not to get the full picture of this, but at least she learned what she could on this lost Grim member. Rogue, alchemist, fierce combatant for both the Grim and Blood Moon Rising. .. And apparently having a long running feud with her then landlord, a Forsaken known as Blythe.
Mizue sat and read all that she could, learning of this member's life and trials. Not wanting to leave here without getting as much of an understanding of this individual as she could gather. Before she would speak to her High Inquisitor.
