A Fallen Grim

[Syreenna]

The little rogue staggered drunkenly to through the Grim halls, after writing a note. With gore still slowly oozing from the hole in her head where there was once an ear, she stuck the note to the wall with a small throwing dagger.

Grims,

Last night, a Grim was killed. Konro, who was a Supplicant, was killed by Breygrah Ragetotem of the Horns of Shu'halo.

A week ago, she challenged him to a Mak'gora, which is traditionally an honorable fight to the death.

There was no honor in last night's fight. Konro only had one arm at the time the challenge was issued. Most of the more serious things he did that prompted her to issue the challenge were not really done by him. He had no control over those. And she may have taken advantage of the fact that he still cared deeply for her.

Maybe he did drink too much and was too eager to fight.

Maybe he did have unpopular opinions about the current and former Warchiefs.

Maybe someday he would have been a great soldier of the Mandate, after the beast was gone and it was only Konro again.

He was a Grim. And he was my friend.


Syreena Shadowblade

Syreena turned and drifted away, knowing that a few Grims would be glad he was gone, and most wouldn't care.

But the little rogue couldn't help feeling, as she had felt about many Supplicants who never earned their rank, that The Grim had failed Konro somehow. They should have found help for him to expel the beast during one of the several times they had him locked in a dungeon.

Should have, and could have.... Too little, too late, now, she knew.

"Peace, Konro."

[Neevah]

Ruuki stared at the note for what felt like an eternity. Even after she'd left the scene of the fight, and Konro's body had been taken away for proper burial, she still struggled to wrap her mind around it. Syreena was right- he'd drunk a lot and regularly made a fool of himself, but he'd been her friend too. At least, she considered him a friend. He'd proven he could be calm and insightful, and she'd tried her hardest to encourage it, but when it came down to brass tacks, she was never sure if it was truly Konro she was talking to, or the beast thing inside of him. She'd had hope that he could hold out long enough for them to find the answer to getting that beast thing out of him.

She'd seen many companions die on the battlefield, but this hit a lot harder than she'd expected. She pulled the chunk of armor from her pocket, the blood cleaned from it and the plate carefully polished to a shine, and looked at it. She'd only ever kept mementoes from two others she'd considered close, as a painful reminder to herself of how she needed to be better. She could have made a difference, and instead chose to sit by, and now he was gone, too.

She turned away from the noticeboard, down the hallway where the Inquisitor offices sat, and entered her own, lighting the lamp on her desk. She focused her attention on the shelves along the righthand wall, some of which held trophies from battle, and gently rearranged one shelf that held only two items so that this new addition could fit. The broken pipe that had belonged to her father, and the shard of shield that had belonged to her mentor sat alongside the chunk of armor, reminders of the painful lessons that came with their acquisition.

Satisfied with the layout, she sat down in her chair, rubbing her tired eyes with her hands. It would be a long few days, at best, and she knew she couldn't keep dwelling on it. She was still Grim, and Inquisitor, and she couldn't turn her attention away from her duties. Tonight however, she would fight and drink to his memory, and hope that his spirit could forgive her for not doing more.

[Cobrak]

Cobrak had readied himself to head to Northrend, ready to skin Konro when the note came to the board. He had seen Syreena swagger off and Ruuki saunter towards the offices as he approached. The short note was scrawled with Syreena's noteworthy impeccable handwriting, detailing the mak'gora between the two former tauren guildmates.

"Good." Was all he said out loud as he read of the bull's demise...all former camaraderie he had with the warrior had expired along with Brammorn. He had heard of Konro being possessed, he had heard of the terrible things he's done...Cobrak didn't believe it. Excuses was all it was for a madman to run loose.

Cobrak reholstered his gun, not before spitting on the ground as if to get the taste of Konro's name out of his mouth and walked out the door...After all, there was a pelt he still needed to collect... and a drink to buy for Breygrah.

[Xaraphyne]

They had come over last night to check on her, Lilliana, Naheal, Breygrah, and Darrethy. One by one, Xaraphyne had chased them off, saying hurtful things, the most awful things all of them were secretly worried were true. "How many of you are even going to mourn him? You're glad he's gone, glad you don't have to deal with him anymore." The cruel, bitter words had cut deep; eventually, only Lilliana remained. Only then did Xara cry.

Nokokomah had relayed her plea, asking that they stay their hands, but they hadn't. Breygrah had promised she would wait until they could do something about the worg spirit, but she didn't. Promises extracted too late were useless. Xara had failed in her promise to Konro; she had let him down. She hadn't protected him.

She should have acted sooner. She knew from the moment he met him that he was a troubled soul, a self-destructive one. But it had been a long time since she had let herself get wrapped up in someone like that. A long time since she had been willing to sacrifice so much for someone who was liable to hurt her, and not just physically. Even not-Fhenrir hadn't been able to break the barriers that learned caution had built. But Konro had needed her so much. He just... had needed her.

But as the next morning dawned, Xara found herself only... tired. There was sadness, still, but acceptance was an inevitable tide coming to wash away the unreasonableness of grief. It had been too late. Breygrah couldn't be blamed for doing what she did. She'd had to. Konro was going to attack and kill someone, next. Xara and Kerala were lucky to have survived. And the next person wouldn't have been someone who had agreed to take that risk.

Noko came by the next morning, after Lilliana left, to check on her. Fhenrir had been in and out all last evening and morning, never far, but knowing when she could take comfort from his presence and when she couldn't. He was in the other hut when Noko entered.

Noko didn't say anything; she just placed something in Xara's hands. A smooth, black horn. Xara closed her hands around it. It didn't feel strange anymore. It was all that was left.

"Thank you," Xara said.

"There is always a way," Nokokomah said, "but sometimes, people choose their own."

Xara didn't say anything. Eventually, Noko left.

[Ulrezaj]

Ul-Rezaj's eyes honed in closely at the written text:

Most of the more serious things he did that prompted her to issue the challenge were not really done by him. He had no control over those. And she may have taken advantage of the fact that he still cared deeply for her.

Clearly, Syreena had in fact written it, but what must have occurred for such unnatural sympathy from a Forsaken? Something felt amiss. There seemed to be an off-putting, stomach curdling emotion behind the words. Turning his head to look the other way, he almost forgot what the notice said. But, now lurking in the back of the mind, there seemed to be no consolation.

[Xaraphyne]

A notice is affixed later.

Funeral services are being held this Saturday at 9 p.m. by the goblin clock.

[Lupinum]

Lupinum had made himself scarce in weeks past. He was drinking constantly, soaking his undead organs in alcohol in an attempt to fall back into Sleep's embrace. It was futile, of course. The weight of the curse, coupled with the dark pit of sadness from Konro's death kept Lupinum in his room, agonizingly and completely awake - shiftless except for the call of the Mandate.

Harsh rays of a noon sun slashed lines across the dull gray floor stones, burning the Forsaken's glazed, yellow eyes as he stumbled down the guild's corridors. The majority of the Grim had vacated for various campaigns in Draenor that day. His soft footfalls echoed down empty hallways as he meandered and drank. Lupinum wandered into the main hall, near the heavy wood of the announcement board. The gold orbs slid across the numerous notes attached to the wall in various ways, stopping on Syreena's blood and beer stained parchment. As he read it, Lupinum wondered briefly if he would be crying if his tear ducts still worked. Upon finishing, the priest drunkenly nodded, another thought crossing his mind.
Find Breygrah

He dragged a finger along the exposed edge of the throwing knife pinning the paper to the wall. Black ooze welled up along the gash and dripped a small trail back to the Reaper's quarters.