As usual Kerala had not listened to a single word of the meeting. It wasn't because she had no interest in the topic- which she didn't. It wasn't because they spoke of fighting on a scale of armies- which she had zero experience in.
She wasn't there.
This situation was similar to when the Deadshots fought the 37th infantry, and though they had been separated for ten years and were driven by entirely different motivations- twins think alike. She had never really shared the details of that operation with her chieftain and unknown sister, but Lomani had not participated in the larger battle then. Kerala had no intention of doing so now.
There was a new item decorating the ceiling of Inquisitor Lilliana's quarters. Beside the bed, the priestess' staff leaned, cleaned of Hyjal's dirt and leaves. Above it was a bright shock of color. Suspended from the ceiling was a great hoop, like a Shu'halo dreamcatcher. This one was not woven into a crescent design, or a radiating burst like a sun to honor an Earth Mother. This hoop was hung sideways, with the decorated lacing supporting a central item held suspended. A troll scalp had been scraped and cured, and expertly sewn in place. Beautiful red hair hung down clean and untangled.
Kerala had spent a good amount of time cleaning the things left behind in Hyjal when she woke after missing that night's Inquisition meeting. She figured the troll would want them back. Lilliana's scent was fresh in her memory.
Silent paws fell slowly, one in front of the other. Giant saucer-eyes looked from the shadows, pupils large and senses on high alert, straining. Whiskers trembled as the lioness pulled scent from the air.
Kerala wasn't listening to a single word of the Grim meeting.
She was prowling alone through the vast and unfamiliar maze of Grim Batol.
Hollow: The Conclave ((Open))
Re: Hollow: The Conclave ((Open))
((OMG thank you for getting the staff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!))
Re: Hollow: The Conclave ((Open))
*Setting: several weeks before the assault on Grim Batol, at the Borrowed Time garrison. Fhenrir has just met with Leyu'jin, Khorvis, Naheal, Kex'ti, and several members of the Grim regarding the impending invasion. Their assembly has dispersed, and Naheal requests Leyu'jin's attention for further discussion.*
Naheal says, “Shall we, Leyu'jin?”
The white-haired troll nods at Shaelie as he and Naheal leave the central building. Turning to the blood elf mercenary, the warrior states solemnly, “Aye, fo' wut remains ta be discussed.”
Raising his hand, Naheal gestures towards the garrison's tavern. The two amble over to the drinking hole, their feet crunching in the dry snow. As they enter the tavern, the mercenary pulls up a chair at one of the tables and plops down into it. The Grim warrior follows suit.
“In case it isn't clear,” Naheal explains, “Our goals are extraction of our allies then razing her base to the ground.”
The troll murmurs, “Khorvis caught on quick. We undahstand dat righ' propah, mon.”
“Good.” The blood elf sets out some maps that he found at the old Blackshot base - old maps - and a picture showing a woman and man with black hair. It's captioned on the back: 'We succeed or fail together.'
“What I found in that base was information on who Morinth was and what she was after.” Naheal drops the words like a bombshell. The troll warrior stares down Naheal, his eyes alight with sudden interest.
“Aye? We 'eard from Rhuune dat she appears ta be sum wizened ol' hooman now.”
The merc doesn't bother confirming or denying the Deadshot's information. “It's my belief that killing her in Grim Batol won't end her for good.”
“Even if we find da original?”
Naheal nods. “I've gotten information from Aaren indicating that there may be a dragon involved and, given the information that I've received, it would make sense if he were a Twilight.”
The warrior grunts. "Great. Anotha complication."
“If I'm right, she's not going to be playing that card at Grim Batol.”
Leyu'jin shakes his head and groans. Sitting forward, he narrows his eyes and gesticulates with his gauntleted hand. “Ah kin see Morinth bein' like an octopus, wit' 'er clones, o' wutevah dey be, bein' da tentacles.”
The blood elf snorts. “More like a hydra.”
Continuing, the troll says, “Ah tought dat if we got ta da source, o' da body, an' slew it, we could end 'er fo' gud.” He then pauses, as he considers Naheal's words. “Aye, dat be a bettah analogy. But joo tellin' me even cuttin' off all da heds, an' strikin' da heart, ain't enuff.”
The blood elf soldier meets the troll's gaze with smoldering eyes. “Destroy her soul.”
“Normally, that'd be going too far for me, but she's not really giving us other options.”
Leyu'jin's eyes flicker. He says nothing, but reaches up to stroke one of his tusks. After a moment's pause, he breaks the silence. “Ah believe ah kin resolve dat.”
Naheal cautions him. “A word of warning, which is the same that I've given the Knights of the Ebon Blade: It would be inadvisable to feed her soul to a runeblade.” The troll's gaze remains unreadable. He simply reaches up and strokes his tusk again.
“Her soul would easily change the runeblade and turn it dangerous for the wielder. It would do us no good to lose a valuable ally in the process of eliminating her if there are other options available.”
The warrior's features are blank. All he says is: "Undahstood."
Seeing his ally's comprehension, Naheal nods slowly. “On to other matters. I've been keeping my hand to my chest for most of this, I think this is a good spot to reveal it.” The merc pulls out a small, unstable, iron star power core and sets it on the table.
Leyu'jin raises an eyebrow. "Aye, Naheal?" Although he's seen the devices before while making raids on Iron Horde strongholds, he isn't familiar with their capabilities.
The blood elf smiles knowingly. “These can serve as the explosives for Shaelie.”
The Grim warrior blinks. “Whoa. Okay, ah dinna know dey could do dat.”
Continuing to smirk, Naheal remarks, “However, they're *incredibly* volatile.”
“Wut would joo recommend we use dem on? Jastah?”
The other man shakes his head. “The bunkers she was talking about. Fortifications surrounding the gates... Open areas before we breach the gate...”
“Ahhhhh.”
Naheal explains, “The blast is wide and powerful enough to where it'll eliminate most people who are caught in the blast radius.”
“Ah see. 'ow many o' dese joo got, brotha?”
The merc sets a satchel on the table. “That's full of them.” He looks a tad smug as he sees the troll's eyes widen. “We've been capturing Iron Horde barges, as you could probably see in the harbor.”
The warrior grins in return. “Heh. So das' where joo got dem from.” Leyu'jin reaches across the table and gingerly deposits the satchel into one of his magical bags.
Naheal gives Leyu'jin a wide grin.
The troll nods once in satisfaction and gratitude. “Ah'll see dis gits ta Shaelie. An' explain exactly 'ow dangerous dese be.”
Naheal replies, “I'm an explosives tech that got the basics from goblins. Wasn't taught safety. Just keep that in mind.”
Leyu'jin smirks slyly at the Borrowed Time soldier. “Ah doubt der many adherents ta Gnomish technology among da Grim, Naheal. Shaelie will be able ta handle it.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Some time later, as the Grim prepare for their invasion of Morinth's stronghold, the Wordbearer calls Shaelie the Huntress into his office, quietly, without bystanders.*
The white-haired troll's molten gaze appraises the Sin'dorei woman softly. “Greetings be ta ya, Shaelie. Please, enter, an' close da door behind joo.” The huntress pauses, slightly unsure of herself, and shuts the massive oak door quietly. As the armor-clad warrior gestures towards the war table, strewn with maps and covered by the vast hide of a Mulgore kodo, she reasserts herself and calmly strides to a position opposite him.
“What is this about, Wordbearer? I received your instructions. No one followed me; everyone is too busy with the preparations for the assault on Grim Batol,” Shaelie inquires.
The Grim warrior nods, satisfied. He steps around the table's wide girth, a large satchel clutched in his left hand. As the blood elf's eyebrow raises questioningly, he reaches her side and delicately, for a mountain of metal, sets the bag on the table.
“Dis be a gift from Naheal o' Borrowed Time. It contains sum hundred iron star power cores.” Shaelie's eyes widen in astonishment. The troll's gaze flickers to hers, reading recognition in them. “So, joo know wut dese be.”
“Yes, Wordbearer. They can be used as highly powerful charged explosives; it's one of the side-effects of the ways the Orcish engineers crafted their Iron Stars.” She cautiously opened the satchel's flap and pulls out one, gingerly, though firmly in her grasp. “They are highly powerful, but also highly unstable.” Her head lifts to direct her stare at the troll warrior. “These are for me?”
The troll nods. “Aye. Ah hav bin' tol' dey will be o' great use in destroyin' da bunkahs dat littah da pathway up ta Grim Batol, as well as servin' well as anti-personnel devices.” Leyu'jin looks at the small elf, relatively at least, with curiosity. “Howevah, ah hav a question fo' joo. From yo' reconnaissance, joo be well aware o' da Fel Reavah dat Morinth 'as at 'er disposal. Given yo' background as an engineeah an'... 'robootics'”, the troll pronounces the foreign word cautiously, “Do joo tink dese could be used ta destroy, o' leastways cripple, dat abomination?”
Naheal says, “Shall we, Leyu'jin?”
The white-haired troll nods at Shaelie as he and Naheal leave the central building. Turning to the blood elf mercenary, the warrior states solemnly, “Aye, fo' wut remains ta be discussed.”
Raising his hand, Naheal gestures towards the garrison's tavern. The two amble over to the drinking hole, their feet crunching in the dry snow. As they enter the tavern, the mercenary pulls up a chair at one of the tables and plops down into it. The Grim warrior follows suit.
“In case it isn't clear,” Naheal explains, “Our goals are extraction of our allies then razing her base to the ground.”
The troll murmurs, “Khorvis caught on quick. We undahstand dat righ' propah, mon.”
“Good.” The blood elf sets out some maps that he found at the old Blackshot base - old maps - and a picture showing a woman and man with black hair. It's captioned on the back: 'We succeed or fail together.'
“What I found in that base was information on who Morinth was and what she was after.” Naheal drops the words like a bombshell. The troll warrior stares down Naheal, his eyes alight with sudden interest.
“Aye? We 'eard from Rhuune dat she appears ta be sum wizened ol' hooman now.”
The merc doesn't bother confirming or denying the Deadshot's information. “It's my belief that killing her in Grim Batol won't end her for good.”
“Even if we find da original?”
Naheal nods. “I've gotten information from Aaren indicating that there may be a dragon involved and, given the information that I've received, it would make sense if he were a Twilight.”
The warrior grunts. "Great. Anotha complication."
“If I'm right, she's not going to be playing that card at Grim Batol.”
Leyu'jin shakes his head and groans. Sitting forward, he narrows his eyes and gesticulates with his gauntleted hand. “Ah kin see Morinth bein' like an octopus, wit' 'er clones, o' wutevah dey be, bein' da tentacles.”
The blood elf snorts. “More like a hydra.”
Continuing, the troll says, “Ah tought dat if we got ta da source, o' da body, an' slew it, we could end 'er fo' gud.” He then pauses, as he considers Naheal's words. “Aye, dat be a bettah analogy. But joo tellin' me even cuttin' off all da heds, an' strikin' da heart, ain't enuff.”
The blood elf soldier meets the troll's gaze with smoldering eyes. “Destroy her soul.”
“Normally, that'd be going too far for me, but she's not really giving us other options.”
Leyu'jin's eyes flicker. He says nothing, but reaches up to stroke one of his tusks. After a moment's pause, he breaks the silence. “Ah believe ah kin resolve dat.”
Naheal cautions him. “A word of warning, which is the same that I've given the Knights of the Ebon Blade: It would be inadvisable to feed her soul to a runeblade.” The troll's gaze remains unreadable. He simply reaches up and strokes his tusk again.
“Her soul would easily change the runeblade and turn it dangerous for the wielder. It would do us no good to lose a valuable ally in the process of eliminating her if there are other options available.”
The warrior's features are blank. All he says is: "Undahstood."
Seeing his ally's comprehension, Naheal nods slowly. “On to other matters. I've been keeping my hand to my chest for most of this, I think this is a good spot to reveal it.” The merc pulls out a small, unstable, iron star power core and sets it on the table.
Leyu'jin raises an eyebrow. "Aye, Naheal?" Although he's seen the devices before while making raids on Iron Horde strongholds, he isn't familiar with their capabilities.
The blood elf smiles knowingly. “These can serve as the explosives for Shaelie.”
The Grim warrior blinks. “Whoa. Okay, ah dinna know dey could do dat.”
Continuing to smirk, Naheal remarks, “However, they're *incredibly* volatile.”
“Wut would joo recommend we use dem on? Jastah?”
The other man shakes his head. “The bunkers she was talking about. Fortifications surrounding the gates... Open areas before we breach the gate...”
“Ahhhhh.”
Naheal explains, “The blast is wide and powerful enough to where it'll eliminate most people who are caught in the blast radius.”
“Ah see. 'ow many o' dese joo got, brotha?”
The merc sets a satchel on the table. “That's full of them.” He looks a tad smug as he sees the troll's eyes widen. “We've been capturing Iron Horde barges, as you could probably see in the harbor.”
The warrior grins in return. “Heh. So das' where joo got dem from.” Leyu'jin reaches across the table and gingerly deposits the satchel into one of his magical bags.
Naheal gives Leyu'jin a wide grin.
The troll nods once in satisfaction and gratitude. “Ah'll see dis gits ta Shaelie. An' explain exactly 'ow dangerous dese be.”
Naheal replies, “I'm an explosives tech that got the basics from goblins. Wasn't taught safety. Just keep that in mind.”
Leyu'jin smirks slyly at the Borrowed Time soldier. “Ah doubt der many adherents ta Gnomish technology among da Grim, Naheal. Shaelie will be able ta handle it.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Some time later, as the Grim prepare for their invasion of Morinth's stronghold, the Wordbearer calls Shaelie the Huntress into his office, quietly, without bystanders.*
The white-haired troll's molten gaze appraises the Sin'dorei woman softly. “Greetings be ta ya, Shaelie. Please, enter, an' close da door behind joo.” The huntress pauses, slightly unsure of herself, and shuts the massive oak door quietly. As the armor-clad warrior gestures towards the war table, strewn with maps and covered by the vast hide of a Mulgore kodo, she reasserts herself and calmly strides to a position opposite him.
“What is this about, Wordbearer? I received your instructions. No one followed me; everyone is too busy with the preparations for the assault on Grim Batol,” Shaelie inquires.
The Grim warrior nods, satisfied. He steps around the table's wide girth, a large satchel clutched in his left hand. As the blood elf's eyebrow raises questioningly, he reaches her side and delicately, for a mountain of metal, sets the bag on the table.
“Dis be a gift from Naheal o' Borrowed Time. It contains sum hundred iron star power cores.” Shaelie's eyes widen in astonishment. The troll's gaze flickers to hers, reading recognition in them. “So, joo know wut dese be.”
“Yes, Wordbearer. They can be used as highly powerful charged explosives; it's one of the side-effects of the ways the Orcish engineers crafted their Iron Stars.” She cautiously opened the satchel's flap and pulls out one, gingerly, though firmly in her grasp. “They are highly powerful, but also highly unstable.” Her head lifts to direct her stare at the troll warrior. “These are for me?”
The troll nods. “Aye. Ah hav bin' tol' dey will be o' great use in destroyin' da bunkahs dat littah da pathway up ta Grim Batol, as well as servin' well as anti-personnel devices.” Leyu'jin looks at the small elf, relatively at least, with curiosity. “Howevah, ah hav a question fo' joo. From yo' reconnaissance, joo be well aware o' da Fel Reavah dat Morinth 'as at 'er disposal. Given yo' background as an engineeah an'... 'robootics'”, the troll pronounces the foreign word cautiously, “Do joo tink dese could be used ta destroy, o' leastways cripple, dat abomination?”
Re: Hollow: The Conclave ((Open))
((I am commenting on everything this morning !!! This is cool. I like seeing the plans come together - what a thought out attack!))