Sealed to the Mandate

[Malhavik]

Malhaviks feverish daydreaming was abruptly ended when his masked face collided into the staircase.
Pushing himself up, he turned to see one Shaelie tangled in the skeletal arms, and jagged chains of his lower robes.

"What in the Abyss, may I ask, are your doing?" He demanded.

"We have no time for silly games elf! We must hurry!"

[Aureilya]

Shaelie just scowled at Malhavik and stubbornly kept him grappled to the stairs. "You were losing it, already? Didn't you hear her warning?" Shaelie nodded towards Achernotia. By this time, Qarosimae had already appeared at the top of the stairs with some books tucked under her arm. The huntress peered at the fire mage expectantly.

[Inzema]

Qarosimae once again stepped over Shaelie and Malhavik like they were refuse, but this time at least acknowledged their presence to say "Let the warlock up. If he is lost to the Nether, he is worthless to the Mandate, anyways." It was truth as she saw it, and simultaneously intended to inflame the warlock into doing something, anything, other than losing himself like he had been. She walked back into the office of the Inquisiton and looked at the desks, picked Ruuki's for it's cleanliness, and set the books down.

Qarosimae closed her eyes, bringing the image that she had captured in her mind to the forefront, and opened her eyes as she arranged the books exactly as they had been on the table in the tower. Once complete, she looked over the pages thoughtfully, hoping to glean information from them.

[Awatu]

The 'tower', if it can truly be called such, was a small cramped space wherein little peace could be found. At least, it was for Awatu. After Qarosimae had made her way back down with several tomes, Awatu approached the stairway and looked past the embarrassing flailing of Malhavik and Shaelie. Stepping over the two of them, he made sure not to accidentally step on either one. Though, he took no noticeable concern when his low-slung mace conked Malhavik on top of his skull. The stairway was cramped, and Awatu was forced to turn slightly just to climb it. He never enjoyed coming up here, and mentally took note that the High Inquisitor's office should be somewhere more secure and less visible since, apparently, sensitive information was being kept inside.

Inside was the office he could remember, somewhat, but the void beyond the window drew in an unearthly wind. As if it were a siphon for ethereal breezes upon which ill whispers would tease the very edges of Awatu's mind. He did not glimpse into the portal, knowing the dangers that could be found just beyond the sight of ones eyes. It would be his mind that would succumb to the fel-tainted voices and promises of favors and deals. They were easily ignored.

His eyes roved over the destroyed office, taking stock of what replacements may be required. As well as hoping that many of these notes had copies within the archives. At least Khorvis had not been treating this as his personal bedroom. Dragons and demons were formidable, but the mention of Khorvis' 'sleeping area' was enough to make Awatu think twice. Twice now, his eyes scanned the room, until something finally caught them as being off. On the ground, partially underneath a tattered cloth, was an alchemist's flask. However, it was what was inside the flask that truly drew Awatu's attention. After a brief moment of recollection, he bundled the flask up in the cloth and turned towards the door. That is when he heard them...

Screams as quiet as the softest breeze and whispers as loud as thunder scratched at his mind, all in a maddening language. A language that he could not comprehend. But he did. They wanted- no, demanded, that the flask be dropped into the portal. They sought to guide Awatu. Deliver him into the portal, a space outside of time, along with what was clearly something dear to them. He remained still, though, and their hunger grew for this mortal to obey. The shadows grew along the walls. Foul shades moving in shapes unnatural within this world, nor any other plane of decency and sanity. However, as the shadows grow, so does light. At once, they were blinded, and there was a terrible hiss as if flame had struck flesh. The shades fell away, back into their eldritch home. Awatu released a breath as the light faded from him. He glanced at the unnatural portal, the sides of which smoked only slightly from a siphoning of divine fury. "You are all of you weak." he muttered darkly to whatever may be listening. The voices were still and distant, but would soon return. With that, Awatu took his leave of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Returning down the stairs, Shaelie and Malhavik had yet to remove themselves from the stairway. Stepping over them once more, he strode down several more steps before grabbing Malhavik's ankle and dragging him with Shaelie still clinging to him out onto the bottom landing. Slamming the second door behind him, and barely missing Malhavik's hand, he stood in the middle of the room and unwrapped the flask. Within it was a thick viscous fluid, green and glowing faintly. A foul odor emanated from it as he studied it, a noxious fume that was faintly recognizable as both fresh and rotten blood. He turned to Malhavik and Acherontia. He knew what it was.

"What foul demon did this come from?"

[Malhavik]

Disheveled and furious, Malhavik was preparing a spell of self immolation to keep his incredibly rude and indecent companions from further physical flustering.

"The next ruffian to touch me is gonna lose a lot more then... Oh!" He noticed the vial of felblood Awatu was holding. With a twist that sounded like a breaking of a tree sapling, Malhavik was up and hobbling over to Awatu, leaving his foot behind with Shaelie.

"Hmm... That is the blood of a pitlord. Big one too."

He looked over to the books and pointed to the one revealing the bloated and winged demon wurm Mannoroth.

"Perhaps its his."

[Khorvis]

The gates of the Iron Bulwark lay in rubble, torn from their great hinges by savage war machines. Putrid waves of ruined flesh and gore lapped the edges of the antechamber from which climbed empty passages to the courts of fallen councils. The Hellfire Citadel trembled under the onslaught of the Ironbreakers with most of the final holdouts deserting in droves or cut down in their final defenses.

Malhavik Undercroft watched with veiled contempt as the Fel Iron Summoners were rounded up by the Sentinel and the Bladedancer and butchered on shakey knees. No more unchained dae’mons would spill forth from these twisted portals. A pity, really, that their masters lacked the will to enact the truly extraordinary feats of summoning that were storied of the ancient orc warlocks. The forsaken felmancer sighed wistfully as the last of them were gutted on Destructor’s Rise, spilling out whatever forbidden knowledge they possessed with gouts of heartsblood across the stone ritual mount. With steady dripping, a red stream meandered along the edge and fell away to the ruined courtyards below. Wasted secrets on wasted armaments.

No time to dwell, there was a greater task at hand. Malhavik thumbed the empty vial of Annihilan blood within the inner folds of his robes and recalled the final conversation within the offices of the High Inquisitor…

Qarosimae gestured with a delicate open palm towards her memorized book. “It is perfectly obvious, to anyone possessing an ounce of reason. Look here, to the pages on the Blood Curse:”

The tome under the party’s inspection detailed the vile arrangement of corrupting a warring people’s heart with the seduction of power that comes from a Pit Lord’s own blood. Penned by a shaman of the Shadowmoon immediately after the slaughter of Draenor’s draenei, it waxed into a kind of fevered propaganda for the new Horde war machine, and only occasionally managed to come to grips with the cursed reality. However, the descriptions of the chaliced rites, inducting young warriors with drink and oaths, were exacting in their clarity. The souls of the corrupted stock were bound and entwined to the will of their Master Annihilan, and their bodies contorted into grotesque mockeries of their former selves.

“Your vaunted High Inquisitor ran afoul of a very foolish idea, Commander. You might say he was too long in the tooth and short in the ear for his own well-being.” The mage would have raised an eyebrow in mirth, if that emotion had occurred to her.

Awatu remained stoic in his assessment of the ancient pages of faded yellow vellum. This did not excuse the orc for his rash actions, but it did burn away the fog of war with what appeared to be feasible logic. “And yet within this dire news is hidden a nugget of hope. There exists a link to be severed and a cure to be wrought.” The Commander of the Grim turned to Malhavik with the light of the Mandate in his eyes. “Return to the Ironbreakers. Bring this news to Hellfire Citadel. You will find any trace of an Annihilan on Draenor and remove it from play.”

Resting upon the Rise, Malhavik refocused his attention upon his comrades and their ranks. In recent memory, Khorvis had been a keen force of blades under the command of Irredeemable Anaie in the siege of Orgrimmar. His service to the Mandate was not quickly forgotten and there were those of the Ironbreakers who, despite their misgivings of the High Inquisitor’s recent zealotry, still regarded the fallen orc with a sense of camaraderie.

The Tempest herself had shifted from bemused disinterest in the entire debacle of this alternate world to a stony commitment to see the Mandate’s work done within the final chambers of the citadel, if only in polite consideration of her old comrade’s plight. Of the others, it was uncertain of any rallied compassion, but one truth was unshakable. Any trace of a Pit Lord would be annihilated from the battlefields of Tanaan.

At the center of the Rise was collapsed a small mountain of bones, within which glowed a fel aura in chartreuse. The resonance through the Nether was like a great beacon for Malhavik, drawing his inquiry like a siren to a hidden reef. Behind him, a sickening splat echoed as a summoner’s corpse plummeted from the edge and became impaled below upon the ruins of the Iron Reaver. Undercroft approached the mound, clutching the empty vial tightly, and knelt down to inspect the remains. A voice reverberated through the bones of the Citadel.

“Faithless fools. The Legion wills it; it will be done.”

Stumbling backwards, Malhavik retreated to the Ironbreakers’ ranks as the skeleton of an Annihilan creaked and groaned. It arose at first like a marionette upon invisible strings of fel magic then rapidly took on a life of its own. “Return Mannoroth… Yes, yes! Your masters call you to this world once more!” The words of Gul’dan rang terrible and true as the Pit Lord of Qarosimae’s description launched a massive assault upon the Grim forces.

…

Like so many other hulks of titanic power, the flame of the Mandate too scoured from Draenor the dae’mon once called Mannoroth. As the Twice-Made finished siphoning the last essences of strength from the now crumbling husk of bone and black armor, the Ironbreakers tended to their wounded and divided the spoils of salvageable weaponry. The great warlock, Gul’dan, had retreated mid-battle to enact some other horrible spell, leaving Malhavik to marvel at the awesome craft that was the reincarnated Pit Lord. The gawking had of course quickly evaporated to be replaced by the slinging of curses and corruptions, and yet there was an undeniable sense of sadness as another of the great conduits of the Nether was dissembled piecemeal.

Reaper Undercroft’s second approach to the mound of broken bones proved more rewarding than the first. Gone was any presence of Annihilan. The Commander would be pleased with tonight’s work, for it had been necessary even beyond recovering the body of Bloodstar. Upon that thought, the warlock unwrapped from his robes the vial of blood cursed residue and held it up to Tanaan’s great stormclouds. It was completely empty – spotless. The implications of such…

Malhavik twisted his veiled gaze Westward, towards the Frostfire garrison.

[Khorvis]

The prison was burning.

Khorvis’s leap through the purple-stained glass flung him in a tumble down a black stairwell consumed in the smoke of a thousand fires. Gone was the violet glow and haze of timelessness. In their place was an air of desperation and urgency – the portals to the twisted memories, a bizarre entwine of Acherontia and Khorvis’s psyches, were collapsing in an inferno. Gouts of red flame blasted open the ageless windows in showers of broken panes, sending waves of searing heat in pulses up the tower labyrinth.

There was a momentary shift in the air currents and Khorvis spun around after regaining his footing, swinging his sword in a high block. The clash of Alliance steel on his Lordaeron blade rang out in defense as an armored knight bounded through an open portal. The orc would have been crushed by the warhorse were it not for a mass of howling Scourge that swarmed the human from behind. Khorvis gaped in momentary shock, catching the eyes of several of the hungering cadavers – they bore the faces of Brill, citizens butchered outside the Grim gates.

“The bloody fel!” The unarmored warrior kicked away one of the mindless forsaken come back to haunt him and took to the stairs in flight. As he ascended, more of the windows shattered, spraying violet glass, or simply collapsed in upon themselves in darkened voids from which stumbled forth ever more of the Scourge. The flames ignited their rotting flesh; from their throats came great howling accusations, wordless but poignant.

Like clockwork, the heat blasts could be felt again after a thirty count, travelling up again from below their origin. Whether by luck or design, some of the waves disappeared, somehow escaping from the prison’s loop. Khorvis frantically hacked at the clawing undead with his sword hand and considered what that might mean… may be there was a way out!

Upwards and onwards, away from the hungering corpses, the High Inquisitor mounted the labyrinth for a second time. He stabbed a rapid glance at each portal he passed, and yet each one winked out into blackness or flame. Knowing what came after, he spent not a second more inspecting the contents and continued his ascent. The heat waves began passing so frequently that he lost count of their staccato and whether any went missing. The entire tower blistered like a furnace and soon nothing would remain but ash and wrought iron.

Finally, Khorvis came to an unfamiliar landing. A great bay window stretched from the floor to an arch some twenty feet in height. The view did not fade and the vision beckoned to the old orc like a cool breeze. This memory was one of the first – a long beach with dark waters and a small fishing village butting against a dense jungle. It was a scene of his childhood, and one of deepest shame.

Zeth’kur.

Twisting his neck, Khorvis grunted at the encroaching swarm of Scourge at his back. There was nothing he could do for those townsfolk at this moment. Their recompense would have to wait. Khorvis turned and stepped onto a sandy shore.

[Khorvis]

The warm waters lapped at Khorvis’s bare feet. He had just splashed through the shallows, guiding the tow-line of his father’s skiff to bring the patriarch and Wren to shore. The day’s catch had been meager – the Abyssal gulpers must have migrated early to colder depths for the summer months. Though not uncommon for those schools, this season had been particularly warm and long lasting. Helping his father, Khorval, and a basket of adolescent gulpers from the skiff, Khorvis rinsed the sand from his forearms in the breakers and grunted.

“Tie up the Shinknocker, boy. Your mother must be waiting, judging by the hour.” Khorval stomped off towards the village of Zeth’kur with his usual gruffness. Looking to his brother with a stupid and oblivious grin, Wren chased after his father in a spray of fine sand and hoots. Such a carefree boy, that one, Khorvis mused. Already eleven summers and still as imperturbable as a dead and beached monstrous jellyfish. “Bah,” muttered the elder son and finished the task of securing the fishing boat before hauling the light basket after his family.

Their hut of dry timbers and packed earth was a sweatbox in a night heat that would not relent. A fast filet and seasoning of weak salt and dried herbs from the swamp set the Blackrock family’s modest dinner before the hearth’s flame. They ate in the silence of those who spend far too many waking hours in eachother’s company, laboring for subsistence and the pitiful progress of village life. Vymae, Khorvis’s mother, was bowed and wrinkled before her time, a mere thirty years having taken their tiresome toll on her dusky skin and spine. She still smiled, though, a wistful thing of pale lips that managed to touch her hazel eyes as she watched her two young sons eat their fill.

A hollering came from the village. Khorvis raised his head from his earthenware plate and stared at the door. Father continued his meal, purposefully focusing on the fish bones and scraping the scales. This was something expected but undisclosed, and it tickled the memory of the elder son like razorthorn in the brush. He stood up and made for the exit, but Khorval grabbed his wrist with a grip strengthened by years at the trawling line. “Stay your place, son. Fate does come for us all. You might as well meet it with a full stomach.”

Twisting away from his father’s grasp, Khorvis stormed out of the hut and made his way to the center of Zeth’kur. Later punishments be blinded by the ancestors, something was very wrong in the village. It had been several moons since another Clan had raided the shores of Tanaan and after the last bloody stalemate, it was unlikely any Bonechewers would try their butchery again before the harvest.

At the center of the village roared the great forgefire of the ancients. A communal torch for the crafting of their Blackrock steel, the forge served as a gathering place on the sands for all of the families that made their livelihood from the waters of the Devouring Sea. Crafted of great stone slabs hauled from Ogre ruins to the far East, the forge was a place of contemplation for the young Khorvis when chores were to be shirked and beltings to be nursed.

Now before the flame stood a hulking orc several heads higher than all of his lackeys, armored in a dark mail, and wielding a great spiked mace. He spoke in a commanding tone to all of the assembled villagers and upon hearing the voice, Khorvis knew that it was his chieftain that had come to Zeth’kur.

“Drink!” howled Blackhand, echoing over the black waters heard washing upon the near shores. “With this power, you will join the rest of your brothers as the greatest clan to ever sail over these lands. Lands rightfully yours!" Howls of the Blackrock erupted in response to their chieftain’s claim. The great orc held aloft a chalice brimming with some foul green liquid. Where drops spattered from the spilling cup, hisses and wispy black smoke arose from the sand.

Khorvis glanced about the gathering and noticed the strange skin of his people. The dark flesh seemed so strange and foreign to his memory – he looked down at his own arms and recognized the olive complexion, crisscrossed with myriad scars, familiar and aged. Why did no one else make note of his countenance? Did they not know the brutal horror that awaited their bodies were they to imbibe that fel liquid?

Stomping up behind his son, Khorval grunted sourly and raised a one fisted salute to the pontificating Blackhand. In tow were Vymae and Wren, apprehensive and curious respectively. “These are strange times, son,” Khorval muttered. “But word reached Zeth’kur some days ago. We will be blessed, and join this new Clan of Blackhand’s. It will finally give us the chance to rise above wallowing in the tides.”

Khorvis glared at his father incredulously. This was madness. He would not see his Clan fall prey to the same scheme twice in one lifetime – there must be an end to this constant corruption! Shoving his flatfooted father aside and unsheathing a handaxe, Khorvis charged the forgefire with weapon raised and took aim for the chalice.

The air rushed out of the orc’s gut as he impacted the mace of a Blackrock bodyguard. Laughing amongst themselves, Blackhand’s bloodsworn surrounded the fallen orc and began kicking the ribs and groin of their rebel. Manacles and chain went over Khorvis’s neck and wrists. He was forced onto his knees, and alongside his disgrace stumbled his mother who, shrieking in protest, also connected with the overpowering might of fel-touched Blackrock. Vymae wept in open rage at the spent valor of her mate. The eyes of Khorval locked forward into the forgeflame.

“There do be no questioning the will of the new Horde, Blackrock whelps, “Blackhand intoned. An axe wielding warrior approached the knelt mother and son. “All those able of flesh will drink our saving tonic, or all flesh they will lose to the ravens.”

The axe rose in the moonlight of Tanaan and descended with a woody thud. Vymae’s head went rolling down the beach towards the surf. Gouts of heartsblood pulsed weakly from the split neck and soaked the sands. A gurgled screech broke the silence of the gathered, issued from Wren’s throat. Whimpering followed, though it was quickly silenced by a stern growl from Khorval.

“Boy,” spoke the father. “You will do your duty to your Clan. Drink from the cup of our ancestors, and you do secure the future of our clan.” The boots of Khorval soaked in the blood of his wife. Memories of her boundless empathy were tempered with the iron will of her most recent and fatal sacrifice. That was the spirit of Clan and family. Flesh was fleeting.

Khorvis looked up into the fevered eyes of his father. He spat a stream of saliva, hitting a pupil squarely.

“Peace Through Annihilation.”

The axe descended once more.

[Khorvis]

The Inquisition gathered in Warspear, around the tauren bonfire. Inquisitor Ruuki led the circle in the business of the Mandate.

Lilliana gets off of her horse for Xara.
Xaraphyne hugs Lilliana.
Boneslave nearly runs into Ruuki.
[Xaraphyne]: Lotta Grim here! Is this a meetin'?
Boneslave pants, out of ... breath? "Mistress..."
Lilliana makes a show of brushing away her shadows and hugs her sister type troll.
Lupinum smiles at Xaraphyne.
Shaelie watched Xaraphyne.
[Lupinum]: Not-Lilly!
Xaraphyne waves at Lupinum.
[Xaraphyne]: Hey, Loopy!
Lupinum grins drunkenly.
Xaraphyne smiles at Lilliana.
[Xaraphyne]: What's goin' on?
Inzema hums the tune of a rather raunchy bar song as he continues to rub Shaelie's shoulders. Something about "The Good Ship Venus."
Ruuki glances around at the gathered, then huffs. "We shall wait a few minutes more for the Commander."
Lupinum looks over his shoulder. "Inquisition."
Lilliana smiles at Xara, and then goes over to join Ruuki.
Shaelie watched quietly. Inzema would note that some stiffness had returned to her shoulders.
Xaraphyne looks at Semirhege.
Xaraphyne winks slyly at Semirhege.
Boneslave looks positively wilted, as if underwatered and without sun. Very becoming of a corpse.
Lupinum slurps his mug of beer loudly.
Lilliana leans back and forward on her heels, and hums absently as they all just.....wait.
Xaraphyne looks at Inzema.
Inzema perks up, then starts poking Shaelie in the right boob. "Shaelie, look, it'sss the virgin!" He points at Semir.
Xaraphyne looks at Semirhege.
Lilliana decides to mill about, weaving in and out of the folk that are here.
[Xaraphyne]: Ya can tell by lookin' at her?
Lupinum giggles at Xaraphyne.
Shaelie jabbed her elbow back at Inzema quite roughly, a look of irritation darkening her face.
Lilliana pauses to pat Lupinum on the head.
Lupinum is patted.
Xaraphyne takes out a drink.
[Lilliana]: Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo *to Inzema and Shaelie*
Ruuki looks around at the gathered, deciding that they could begin and the Commander could step in when he arrived.
Shaelie had already gotten up and moved to sit on a rock nearby, a scowl settled on her face.
Lilliana catches a look at Ruuki, and darts on over to her, like a good little troll.
[Ruuki]: Grim. The work of the Inquisition will begin.
Inzema cackles maniacally at Shaelie.
Lilliana sticks her hands into her pockets, and lingers by Ruuki.
Boneslave raises a cheer for Ruuki. The integrity of his forelimbs is in question.
Inzema taps his goggles while looking at Xara. "The goggles know!"
[Xaraphyne]: Ahhh.
Xaraphyne offers Inzema her bottle.
Lilliana looks over her shoulder, then away, then right back. She grins at Drakzon, winking.
Drakzon looks around at the odd gathering, giving the troll an small nod as he seats himself.
Inzema takes a sip, nods appreciatively, and passes it back. "Desssent ssstuff.
Semirhege eyes Drakzon up and down.
[Drakzon]: Well well well, what we have here, such a gattern of all? We have dah dragon hawks, dah corpse knights and even grass eaters.
[Xaraphyne]: Ain't as strong as what ya like, I know!
Semirhege grins wickedly at Drakzon.
[Semirhege]: there you are, Drakky!
Drakzon sighs at Semirhege.
Lilliana looks at Drak'zon, and she puts a finger to her lips, meaning shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Ruuki shoots Drakzon a pointed look before continuing. "We stand on what is one of the most heavily defended spots in Draenor. No Alliance, nor Iron Horde, has dared breach its walls."
Xaraphyne giggles at Uryu.
Qarosimae eyes Drakzon contemptuously, adjusts her glasses, and snorts black smoke from her nostrils despite no visible source of flame.
[Ruuki]: Fortunately, it will not be the only heavily defended area. The Ironbreakers have made progress in their assaults on the Hellfire Citadel.
[Boneslave]: Mmmgh .. much flesh to plunder.
[Drakzon]: Don't look to hard dragonhawk, yah might lure in for a bite,
Drakzon grins wickedly at Qarosimae.
Lilliana is looking up at Ruuki, listening.
[Ruuki]: Gul'dan has led a merry little chase, but all of his lackeys lay dead in pools of their own cold, clotted blood.
[Xaraphyne]: Is that what ya call it? *to Boneslave*
[Semirhege]: you and biting... weirdo
[Malhavik]: Or lack there of.
Lilliana glances at Malhavik.
[Ruuki]: Kil'rogg, Gorefiend, Xhul'horac, even the mighty Mannoroth himself have been laid low.
Boneslave smiles stupidly at Xaraphyne. There is a dull light in his eyes. Nothing bright to be found here.
Xaraphyne winks slyly at you.
Shaelie stares Semirhege down.
Tesonii slides down the incline and dusts herself off.
Xaraphyne moves to get a better view
Malhavik looks at Ruuki.
Semirhege looks around curiously, looking for something of interest.
Xaraphyne snickers at Semirhege.
Semirhege waves at Xaraphyne.
Xaraphyne smiles at Semirhege.
[Ruuki]: Soon, the Hellfire Citadel will be just as secure as Warspear. Neither the Alliance, nor the Iron Horde, nor even the Legion itself will stand in our way!
Shaelie flicked a glance around the Non-Grim at the fire.
Tesonii looks at Ruuki.
Lilliana nods her head slowly at Ruuki.... she guesses that will eventually be true......
Boneslave moans about the joy of absent imps and their fiery poking.
[Malhavik]: Speaking of the slain Mannoroth, if you don't mind my interruption Lady Ruuki?
Xaraphyne looks at Malhavik.
Lupinum drags his claws in the dirt. It might look something like stick figures killing a fatter stick figure.
Awatu eyes the gathering for a moment, then moves to another spot near the fire.
Tesonii finds a seat.
Boneslave bemoans the arrival of Commander Stonespire joyfully.
Semirhege rolls her head back and forth, somewhat bored of all this boring talk.
Shaelie lifted a hand to hail Awatu, then turned her attention to Malhavik.
[Malhavik]: As some of you may know the High Inquisitor has been unwell as of late, during the investigation we were able to trace the cause to Mannoroth.
Awatu peers at Malhavik searchingly.
Boneslave coughs up a ball of maggotous phlegm at the understatement. "Unwell ... ughh."
Lupinum nods in greeting to Awatu.
Drakzon reclines onto the rock, looking around with a almost sheepish eye giving the occasional click of sharpend teeth clicking together
[Malhavik]: His blood curse, it seems had reared its ugly head again in Good Khorvis.
Tesonii cheers at Malhavik!
Lilliana 's gaze followed Awatu for a moment, but then Malhavik is speaking, and she just stares at him.
Xaraphyne cups her chin in her hand as she listens.
[Drakzon]: An orc relapsing into dah fel addcition, whut ah surprise.
Ruuki listens to Malhavik's explanation of Khorvis'... illness.
Qarosimae mutters "Fel-sucking warlocks."
Semirhege pulls out a chair from an impossibly small bag.
Drakzon shrugs with a chuckle.
Lilliana looks up and offers Drakzon nothing less than a death look when that comment is made.
[Malhavik]: I was there for the felling of the bloated wurm, and believe his death has removed all corruption in these lands.
Malhavik ruffles through his robes and produces an empty crystal vial to show the group.
Inzema calmly pulls a knife from its sheath and points it at Drak'zon. "You might wanna watch your tongue, lessst I get permisssion to eat it."
You gasp at Malhavik.
Drakzon looks at Inzema.
Semirhege perks her ears.
Lilliana takes a small step towards Malhavik when he brings out a vial, but that's all. She squints her eyes at it.
[Drakzon]: You anit more den a mouth full corpse.
Semirhege whispers to Drakzon.
[Ruuki]: Mind your manners, troll, or I just might let him.
[Malhavik]: This was filled to the brim with the blood. As the flesh of the demon was burnt away, so too did this blood vanish into the aether.
Lilliana totally heard Inzema threaten Drak'zon....such a good little rogue that one is...but she's now too interested in Malhavik.
Drakzon looks at Semirhege.
Semirhege points at Inzema.
[Drakzon]: Of course they be mean, they lost all feel'en long ago.
[Malhavik]: I believe the time appropriate to call on the High Inquisitor.
[Semirhege]: yea!
Lupinum cheers at Malhavik!
Boneslave moans at Malhavik. "The Master... ughh, returns from his prison?
Ruuki crosses her arms as she redirects her attention back to Malhavik.
Semirhege pouts at Inzema.
Lilliana asks of Malhavik, "Like, right this second?"
Inzema beckons Semir over.
[Semirhege]: ew, no!
Malhavik looks at Lilliana.
Semirhege makes a rude gesture at Inzema.
[Malhavik]: As soon as possible.
Drakzon looks at Semirhege.
Lilliana looks back to Ruuki, and to Awatu, earnest.
[Drakzon]: Dah corpse gibb'en yah trouble boss mon?
[Inzema]: Well if you want it that way, fine. I was jussst gonna let you know your troll friend is an idiot for picking a fight sssurrounded by people all wearing the sssame tabard.
Drakzon laughs at Inzema.
[Semirhege]: Thats what I pay him for!
[Malhavik]: We may just have him standing and shouting orders by the end of the night!
[Drakzon]: You're an idoit for thank yah can take me on.
[Malhavik]: I strongly suggest we go to his cell soon.
Lupinum looks over.
Awatu produces a soul shard from a pocket. "We shall see if he is still in a worthy condition."
Lilliana glances back at Malhavik, and then grabs Ruuki's arm!
[Lupinum]: To pick dumb fights?
Drakzon grins wickedly at Inzema.
Drakzon looks at Lupinum.
Ruuki nods her head in agreement with Malhavik's suggestion, though she looks to Awatu for confirmation of this plan. "We need to bring the High Inquisitor back to his home."
[Semirhege]: To... fight things!
[Drakzon]: Dah best kind of fite.
[Shaelie]: But what about his face...
Malhavik looks at Awatu.
Acherontia looks at Awatu evenly.
Drakzon smirks slyly at Inzema.
Lupinum giggles at Semirhege.
Xaraphyne listens with interest.
Ruuki stands fast against Lilliana's sudden grab. "Calm down."
Inzema wags the tail of his tabard at the troll. "In that cassse..." He fixes his eyes on the troll. "I'll kill you jussst ssslow enough that you can bleed out watching me rape the kid," he nods to Semir. "To death."

Gathering their persons, the Grim made their way to Frostfire to see what remained of the High Inquisitor in his cell. One by one they entered the darkened prison and found a cell devoid of corruption. Alone on a cot lay the corpse of Khorvis. The stump of his hand remained cauterized and the wound upon his face had since scarred over. At the foot of the cot rested several objects - the broken remains of the High Inquisitor's armor and eldritch fel-eye. They were unsalvageable. Next to them steamed a pot of goldthorn tea and a brimming porcelain cup.


Tesonii looks around.
Awatu beckons Lilliana over.
[Malhavik]: My ward has starved to death. There is no demonic essence in there any longer.
Xaraphyne eyes you up and down.
Lupinum stands off to the side.
Shaelie settled on a pile of boxes and frowned towards Khorvis's cell.
Lilliana looks to Awatu, and she pauses for a brief moment while looking into the cell.
Tesonii peers at Malhavik searchingly.
[Xaraphyne]: He's lost some weight, eh?
Tesonii leans back against the haystack.
Acherontia folds her hands behind her back and stands quietly.
[Awatu]: Check his cell. Lupinum, too.
Shaelie 's head snapped around to look towards Xara when she heard the voice.
Ruuki looks Khorvis over. "He will need new armor, new weapons..."
Lupinum steps forward.
Lilliana looks at Lupinum.
Lupinum looks at Lilly sidelong.
Lilliana gestures with her chin to the door with Lupinum, and goes to open it up.
Lupinum pads inside.
Xaraphyne moves a little closer as Lilly enters the cell, watching carefully. Her body language remains relaxed.
Lilliana steps to the empty orc body, and kneels down before Khorvis. She looks sad, of course.
Awatu watches them as the inspect the cell.
Lupinum kneels down.
Lupinum kneels and pokes a claw against a piece of his ocular device.
Shaelie mutted into her guild communicator.
Khorvis 's old device crumbles into a clattering pile of debris, useless.
Lilliana glances back at Awatu and she makes a face. She has put her hand on Khorvis, on the side of his scarred face.
Lupinum grunts and turns his gaze to Khorvis' body.
[Awatu]: Is the corpse in a suitable state for him to be restored?
[Lupinum]: It...
Lupinum frowns and looks at Lilliana's hand.
[Lupinum]: It could be possible. Aside from the scar, nothing is in terrible condition..
Lilliana glances up and down Khorvis's corpse. She shrugs her shoulders, tense, "it's fine, it's just fine...." She sounds much too rushed.
Lilliana turns to Khorvis's arm, the one with the missing hand. She lifts it up, peering at the stump.
Lilliana remains holding onto his arm, "Lupinum's totally right, it's cool enough."
Lupinum reaches out to touch the cold skin.
[Lupinum]: How do we proceed, Commander?
Xaraphyne looks at Ruuki.
Shaelie slid down from her perch and difted closer to where she could see better.
Khorvis , despite his lack of pulse, is much in the same fighting condition as before the corruption of Tanaan.
Lilliana grabs Lupinum's hand and presses it firmly down on KHorvis's skin, "Scared baby" she had noted his hesitation.
Malhavik leans towards Acherontia and speaks quietly, "I trust you will be handling the soul?".
[Awatu]: If he will live, then we proceed.
Lupinum growls at Lilly and makes to punch her with Khorvis' arm.
Acherontia looks at Malhavik. "I did."
[Acherontia]: Restoring a soul to a body is not my purview.
[Malhavik]: Oh right. Good. Me either.
Lilliana hisses at Lupinum, and then stands and looks to the rest outside of the bars, especially at Malhavik and Acherontia.
Lupinum giggles softly and stands as well.
Lilliana 's soul was returned to her body at one point, she eyes the warlocks, "Only good at taking away, huh?"
Khorvis would have connected with Lilliana's jaw in Shado-pan action chop ... had his tendons had brainwaves to fire them.
Acherontia looks at Lilliana. "As we said."
[Lupinum]: Who helped you, Lilly?
Lupinum scratches his head.
[Malhavik]: If something goes wrong and he's still crazy, I'll not risk the blame.
[Acherontia]: Restoring a soul to a body usually falls to those with such powers of resurrection.
[Malhavik]: Somebody else do it.
Xaraphyne looks at Lilliana.
Awatu nods.
[Acherontia]: Call him. He will respond.
Acherontia eyes the shard in Awatu's hand.
[Shaelie]: A priest?
[Awatu]: A powerful ressurection spell will break the shard and release his soul.
Lilliana glares at Malhavik, "Well, I'm cool with that."
Ruuki scowls, shifting her weight uneasily. She's ready to draw her sword against Khorvis once more, should it fall to that.
Awatu enters the cell.
Xaraphyne looks at Awatu.
[Awatu]: The three of us.
Lupinum nods at Awatu.
Awatu places the soul shard on the ground.
Lilliana looks down at the shard, she wants to get a good look at it, "Hey, let me see it!"
[Awatu]: All at once.
Shaelie kneels down.
[Awatu]: Proceed.
Tesonii sneaks out while not being observed.
Lilliana is doing the same spell, seriously.


Together, the Grim weilders of ancestor Light channeled their combined energies through Acherontia's soul-shard and into the body of Khorvis. A great explosion of light shook the cell.


Qarosimae walks in, thick black smoke literally pouring from her nostrils.
Khorvis gasps as the soul-shard shatters. A little flame erupted from it and the ashes are blown away into the loose straw of the prison.
Awatu awaits the result.
Xaraphyne blinks.
Lupinum frowns a tad.
Acherontia lifts her chin slightly as she sees Khorvis come back into her vision.
Ruuki leans closer, possibly unintentionally squishing Shaelie against the bars of the cell with her breastplate.
Khorvis lashes out to grasp the neck of an absent father.
Malhavik resists the jerk reaction to pluck stray souls out of the air.
[Acherontia]: Stay your hands.
[Acherontia]: He is confused, but not...hostile.
[Khorvis]: Peace!
Lilliana shouts out as she sees little ashes hit the straw, but then she sees Khorvis move as the soul shard had returned to him what was his.
Xaraphyne looks at you.
Malhavik looks at you.
Lupinum inhales softly. An aura of life erupts around Khorvis in his vision.
Ruuki twitches, hand partially raising to her sword handle at Khorvis' sudden jerk.
Awatu looks at you.
Shaelie had noticed Ruuki behind her. She crouched down agains the bars, resting on the balls of her feet. She could see Khorvis better from that vantage point anyway. It was easier to peer around the legs standing around him than past their bulky armor.
[Khorvis]: Through ...
Khorvis turns his head to the assembled Grim. They are not the Scourge-ridden corpses of his vision. They are the comrades of his campaigns.
Lilliana hands have clapped to her mouth as she stares at Khorvis. She makes a squeak sound.
[Xaraphyne]: Hey, Khorvis!
Xaraphyne waves.
Awatu watches the Orc with little expression. Perhaps just the slightest relief.
Khorvis coughs a wickedly dry throat. "Goat-sucking felmongers ... should have bloody taken my head!"
[Malhavik]: Welcome back.
Lupinum snorts a laugh.
Malhavik sighs at you.
[Acherontia]: I agree.
Lilliana still has her hands over her mouth, "Bthhhh" Removes her hands, "But we like your head."
Khorvis nods weakly at Xaraphyne. "Treasure-Seeker."
[Awatu]: Welcome once more to the embrace of The Mandate.
Xaraphyne cheers at you.
Khorvis moves to swing his legs over the side of the cot, nearly losing his balance.
Lilliana turns to look up at Awatu, whom she beams at.
Lupinum moves forward to help catch Khorvis.
Shaelie was glad to see Khorvis restored. (She was still mad about the scope, though!0
Awatu turns, seeing Khorvis moving once more.
Ruuki closes her eyes, relieved.
[Khorvis]: Commander ... brother. Wait.
Acherontia looks at Awatu and gives him a nod.
Awatu looks at you.
Awatu gives Khorvis a questioning look.
Lilliana backs away for Awatu to come back in.
[Khorvis]: I did not be my self. But there do be no judges to forgive my actions. I did bring great hardship to our cause.
Lupinum frowns at that.
[Acherontia]: That is accurate.
[Lupinum]: I'm not sure if we could hold it against you. You were not in control of yourself.
Lilliana 's face goes rather solemn, the happy and pleased beam she had been tossing around has faded.
Lilliana gives Lupinum a little look.
Khorvis looks strangely at Acherontia. "I did see many things. Horrors inside that prison. And yet at the end height of the tower, I did remember the core of our Mandate."
[Awatu]: It is of no use focusing on the pain of the past.
Lilliana glances over to the old Inquistior, to Acherontia, but then away.
[Awatu]: I suggest focusing on the future.
Acherontia returns Khorvis' gaze steadily, understanding.
You nod at Awatu.
[Khorvis]: There do be every cause to sacrifice myself for the Mandate. Even my flesh, if it does come to it.
[Khorvis]: I do seal it to the Mandate, Commander. Now and forever.
Ruuki watches the conversation quietly, her mind whirring with the events of the last few months, as well as ways to try and stop this from happening again. It will never happen again.
Lilliana clasps her hands out in front of her.
Awatu nods, giving Khorvis a once-over.

[Awatu]: Let us leave this... hole. You can recover in the infirmary.
Lupinum reaches out towards Khorvis' shoulder. A ball of Light blossoms in his palm as he does so.
[Lupinum]: Come, Brother.
Khorvis glances up at a hole in the wall caused by Brast.
[Khorvis]: Aye, this cell does not look ... stable?
Malhavik lets out a hearty chuckle.
Awatu follows Khorvis' gaze, and notes other assorted damage.
Khorvis stumbles forward and leans for support against Lupinum and Lilliana.
[Lupinum]: YOU don't look stable!
Lilliana watches Lupinum.....she has never been one to really offer her healing magics, but has for Khorvis. She grunts when he stumbles and grabs him.
Lupinum catche shis bulky frame. Lupinum's old joints creak with the effort.
Lilliana has not noticed that the cell doesn't look stable.
Ruuki stands at the ready, should Lilliana or Lupinum need extra strength in supporting Khorvis. "Welcome back, Khorvis."
Xaraphyne nods at you.
Khorvis glances about the assembled, noting their faces with nods and short grunts.
Lilliana is definately weighted down by an overly heavy Khorvis, but she isn't going to let go of helping him. She looks all proud. And kind of squished.
Malhavik claps Khorvis on the back and jests. "Good show old man! Lets not do it again."
Lupinum pats the Orc's broad back.
[Khorvis]: Well? What the fel do you be starting at? Unless you do plan to change these old leathers of mine, get out of the bloody way!
Xaraphyne chuckles at you.
[Khorvis]: Bah.
[Khorvis]: What night do it be, Inquisitor Ruuki?
Ruuki snorts at Khorvis. "Leathers do not become you. You need plate. I will craft it."
Lilliana pokes one of Khorvis's old,d ried blood encrusted bandages while he talks to Ruuki.
[Ruuki]: It's Monday night, Khorvis.
[Khorvis]: Phaw. So this do be the state of the Inquisition? Sponge baths for an old orc and dank cells?
Xaraphyne snickers at you.
You eye Lupinum up and down.
[Ruuki]: Well when you decide to go chasing windmills... yes, this is what happens.
[Xaraphyne]: Better whip 'em inta shape, Khorvis!
Acherontia 's mouth twitches. Barely.
Khorvis grumbles sullenly. "Then what do we say when our great meetings of the Inquisition close for the night?"
[Awatu]: I suggest he get himself into shape, first.
Lilliana hits Khorvis in his arm, over one of the bandages, "You are totally old."
Lupinum nods at Awatu.
[Xaraphyne]: One will go with the other, eh?
[Ruuki]: Now are you going to stand there all day in your leather underoos or are you going to get your arse to the Infirmary so I can end this blasted night and craft you new armor?
Khorvis stares at Ruuki pointedly, the flame still bright in his hazel eyes.
[Ruuki]: Now then, this night is sealed the Mandate.
Lilliana grins wickedly at Ruuki.
Ruuki gives Khorvis an equal stare back.
Xaraphyne glances back at Shaelie, the one glance indicating she knew the other huntress had been watching her near this whole time. She just smiles before looking back to Khorvis and the others.
[Lilliana]: Best sealed night ever! *she shouts*
Khorvis raises a fist and spins on a bare heel. "Bloody right you fel-suckers!"
You cheer at Ruuki.
Xaraphyne cheers at you.
Khorvis lands facefirst.
Acherontia steps around the fallen orc and ascends the stairs.
Malhavik claps half-heartedly, clearly unimpressed.
[Ruuki]: If you trip and fall on the way to the Infirmary I will laugh before dragging your sorry ass there. Once you're fit for duty, I'll buy your first pint.
Lupinum sighs and leans down to help Khorvis back up.
Shaelie just stared back at Xara. There was no smile on her face.
[Lilliana]: Oh crap! *she tries to grab the orc before he plummets, but down he goes.....that slap on the ground sounded painful*
Ruuki hadn't even finished her threat and he was carrying it out.
Lilliana looks at Lupinum.
Lupinum shrugs at Lilliana. Who knows?
Ruuki sighs in heavy annoyance, then grabs Khorvis by the shoulder to hoist him up, no laughter needed. "Come on..."
Lilliana looks at Ruuki.
Lilliana can definately laugh at that picture.
Xaraphyne smiles at Lilliana.
Lilliana watches Ruuki take care of Khorvis, she folds her arms.
[Khorvis]: My armor do be ruined?
[Ruuki]: Yes. So is your lash.
[Khorvis]: Good riddance...
Lilliana takes a quick glance at Xaraphyne, she does smile back from the earlier smile the hunter gave her.
Lilliana cackles maniacally at you.
[Malhavik]: I rather liked it...
[Ruuki]: If you didn't like it you didn't need to go to such lengths to get it replaced.
Khorvis holds up his right arm and stares annoyedly at his stump.
[Khorvis]: Bah. It did give the Supplicants something to do with their time.
Khorvis accidentally smacks himself in the face with his stump, unused to the lack of depth perception with his missing eye.
Xaraphyne snickers at you.
Lilliana wanders up to Ruuki and Khorvis.
Lilliana grabs a blanket and holds it towards Khorvis, "Hey, you want help getting tucked in and stuff?" She teases after he smacks himself in the face, seeming to take some humor in that, even if it's not at all funny.
Ruuki crosses her arms, keeping her comments about his changed physical appearance. "The Inquisition continued its work. When you are ready to step back into the role of HIgh inquistor, it will be there for you."
[Khorvis]: How many new Reapers fill our ranks?
Khorvis glares his question at Lilliana.
[Ruuki]: Five.
Lilliana holds the blanket up higher, she looks at Ruuki as she answers past Khorvis's glare at the priestess.
[Ruuki]: We have had some issues with the Mad trying to gain admittance, but the Mandate weeded them out quick enough.
[Khorvis]: Decent stock? Or just one sprout of dwarf cocks? I do hear that the dwarves possess udders like your own kind, but studded with stumpy pricks.
[Xaraphyne]: That's the Khorvis we know and love.
Lupinum nods. "I've heard that too."
[Ruuki]: If you don't mind your tongue you'll find out the hard way.
Xaraphyne raises a drink to you. Cheers!
Lilliana giggles and folds the blanket, holding it out in front of her.
[Ruuki]: They are decent stock, devoted to the Mandate's work and reliable in battle.
Lilliana looks at Ruuki.
Khorvis fumbles through his leather underoos and manages to find one last flask of [Sulfuron Slammer]. He guzzles it with a rebellious glare at Ruuki's threat.
Xaraphyne cheers at you.
Lilliana comments, "Where, there is still some trouble with Tazzuk, but he's good enough I guess...." She mutters.
Ruuki glances over to Lilliana with a frown. "What did he do now?"
[Malhavik]: Isn't he of the 'Deadeye' lot?
Xaraphyne gets off off the trunk and wanders closer to Shaelie, and says something quietly to her.
Ruuki glares right back at Khorvis, and she'd give him more booze if he wasn't being such a brat at the moment.
[Malhavik]: Hardly suprising to find he's been into trouble.
Lilliana shakes her head at Ruuki, and then does the same to Malhavik.
Xaraphyne smiles at Shaelie.
[Awatu]: I question the both of them and their devotion.
Ruuki shoots Lilliana a withering look. "Out with it."
Shaelie shook her head and muttered back to Xara.
[Awatu]: As well as the Sin'dorei Death Knight.
Malhavik nods at Awatu.
[Khorvis]: Deadeye lot? Cobrak doesh be a sholid soldier of our Mandate. I do not hold hish ilk against him.
[Lilliana]: Hey, I dealt with it! And come on, Khorvis needs to rest, we shouldn't bother his head! *she throws the blanket at Khorvis*
Xaraphyne chuckles quietly.
[Malhavik]: He left The Grim Khorvis.
Lupinum rubs his jaw.
Lilliana pauses when Cobrak is brought up.
Xaraphyne glances over when Cobrak is mentioned.
Shaelie didn't respond to Xara. The turn in conversation caught her attention, and she listened.
Khorvis snarls into his empty flask. "Cobrak left our cause ... what the pissing fel do be wrong with this land."
[Khorvis]: I did stand with him when he faced the ghost of his ancestor.
[Xaraphyne]: He's still killin' plenty of Alliance, though.
Lilliana rolls her eyes back at Xaraphyne.
Khorvis looks up at Xaraphyne without a hint of malcontent. He nods.
Lilliana then looks solemnly at Khorvis, "You know shit like that happens. Not everyone can make the right decisions for the Horde."
Xaraphyne gives the back of Lilliana's head a distinctively amused look.
Lilliana sneaks a wink at Xaraphyne, not really making a true dig, but just....being herself.
Ruuki shrugs. "Not everyone can handle the pressures of the Mandate."
Khorvis misses the veiled meaning in Lilliana's words.
[Xaraphyne]: Anyway, good ta see ya all in one piece, Khorvis. When ya can hold yer liquor again, how about we get a drink, eh?
[Khorvis]: Phaw. With that hollow leg of yours, I do need a great loan from the goblin banks to pay the tab. Only if you do be buying.
Xaraphyne grins at you wickedly.
[Xaraphyne]: I'll put it on the tab.
Xaraphyne waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!
Lilliana grins at Ruuki and Xara as they all lurk over Khorvis's sickbed.
Ruuki sighs. "I'll go begin work on your armor."
Lupinum waves at Xaraphyne.
[Khorvis]: My thanks, Inquisitor Ruuki. I do have some ideas, after this recent journey through fel and flame...
[Malhavik]: Rest well Khorvis.
[Khorvis]: Expect some schematics.
Shaelie listened to Xara. The name mentioned caused her to look thoughful. She watched the outsider leave, then turned back to the others.
[Ruuki]: Don't give the healers too much guff, Khorvis, or I'll blacken your good eye.
Malhavik bows low to everyone in the room and heads for the door.
Ruuki raises a fist threateningly, then turns it into a salute before taking her leave.
[Khorvis]: Reaper Malhavik. I do owe you some thanks... Peace.
Lilliana looks at Ruuki and laughs.
You nod at Lilliana.
Shaelie looked up at Awatu. "The troll can be trusted here?"
[Khorvis]: As always, the Clandestine does wipe my arse when my stump cannot reach.
[Awatu]: I will send a peon with a rusty axe if she is unwilling.
[Lilliana]: Well, that's what you wanted me for, right? *she looks at Khorvis, and then digs into her pocket...she's looking for a tissue, but she can't find one*
Shaelie gave him a quizzical look.
Lilliana gets mad, and curses. She also has no idea what Shaelie and Awatu are talking about.
Awatu notices Shaelie, as if for the first time. He gives her a disdainful look down his snout. "Yes."
Shaelie looked dismayed, just for a moment. But the expression faded as quickly as it appeared. She nodded to those gathered and stepped out.
[Khorvis]: Supplicant Shaelie. Come sit with me.
Shaelie paused and looked back at Khorvis. She walked back over.
Lilliana looks up at Awatu, and says softly, "What troll she talking about?" Of course she was listening, even if she didn't know what it was about.
Khorvis gestures to the furs of the infirmary.
Shaelie lowered herself to sit, her brow creased faintly.
[Lupinum]: Your look-alike, I believe, Lilly.
[Lilliana]: Oh, that one. *she looks back to Lupinum*
[Khorvis]: There do be a great many wrongs that my Lash wrought over the past moons. But one that it had no claw in was the rage that I unleashed upon your property.
Shaelie pressed her lips together and looked unhappy. "I failed to protect Mohan's scope."
[Khorvis]: That did be a crime only of my own will. For you do see, Mohan did be the Grim assigned to my own Inquisition, to guide me in the Mandate.
[Shaelie]: Mohan was an Inquisitor?
[Khorvis]: No ... times did be different then. But his duties were the same to me. Where he did succeed in guiding me, I did fail in helping you aim.
Lupinum frowns as he listens to Khorvis
Lilliana eyes both Khorvis and Shaelie. She doesn't hide the fact that she is listening.
[Shaelie]: I should have been quicker to react..
Khorvis steadies himself against a spikey treasure chest and reaches for an earthenware mug of water.
Khorvis shakes his head as he drinks, splashing some water with his goatee.
[Khorvis]: Phaw. The Commander does be right. No use wasting time on past wrongs. We will make right on your treasure.
Lupinum nods at you.
Awatu simply nods.
[Khorvis]: Mohan may be gone to the Wilds, but the creator of his weaponry still draws breath for the Mandate.
[Khorvis]: Bloodscream.
Shaelie put her head down, struggling over how to put her thoughts into words. "It wasn't just a scope. It was what it represented." She tipped her head faintly at mention of Bloodscream
[Khorvis]: No other engineer on Azeroth does understand the art of sight more acutely than our brother Bloodscream.
Lilliana 's gaze follows TEsonnii as she wanders in.
Tesonii finds a seat by a box and sits.
Shaelie nodded slowly. "I did hear him mention engineering, over our guild channel.."
Lilliana goes to sit with the deathknight, a rather happy little troll.
[Khorvis]: Then follow those great bloody ears of yours and take up the legacy of the Warden. Have that old orc craft for you a worthy scope. Maybe one that fits your eye!
Khorvis chuckles raspily at that.
Lilliana turns a grin over to Shaelie.
Awatu raises a hand, bidding everyone fare well.
Tesonii is emphatically not a death knight.
Shaelie glanced down and grinned wryly, then nodded to Khorvis. "I'll do that."
Tesonii waves goodbye to Awatu. Farewell!
[Awatu]: Hunt well, Grim.
[Khorvis]: Mok'rah, Commander.
Lilliana looks at Awatu.
Shaelie glanced over her shoulder, but the Commander was already gone.
Khorvis pats Shaelie on the knee, still unaware of her promotion to Reaper. He rises unsteadily to wish the other Grim a fond goodnight.
Lupinum rises as well.
Tesonii nods at you.
[Khorvis]: Mok'rah, Grim. Get the fel-pissing dwarf udder out of my sick bed!
Shaelie rose also. "Welcome back, Lasher."
Lupinum cracks a smile and turns to walk out. A thought look is on his face.
Lupinum nods at Tesonii.
Lilliana gives Khorvis a look, and then off she goes.
Shaelie turned to head out.
Tesonii looks at Shaelie.
Tesonii bows before you.
Khorvis grunts at Tesonii.

As the last of the Grim filed out of the infirmary, Khorvis laid back against the furs of the bunk. It seemed like eons since he had found any true sleep. Maybe now...

[Filora]

[Khorvis]: Decent stock? Or just one sprout of dwarf cocks? I do hear that the dwarves possess udders like your own kind, but studded with stumpy pricks.
Lupinum nods. "I've heard that too."

[[ I missed this the first time. Haha Lulu! ]]