Mai’kull had been working hard ever since his ascension to Reaper for The Grim. He had already filled the book shelves next to him with documents on The Twisting Nether, Old Gods, The Legion, as well as countless maps of Battlegrounds across Azeroth and beyond. He felt that despite completing his supplicant trials, he still needed to prove his worth amongst his new brethren, still feeling as if he was nothing but a shadow on a wall to them.
But constant work was numbing his hands, he could no longer tell where the Ink stopped and the blood began as he penned notes and reports on various topics. His mind too was turning to mush, he had to get his head out of the books and doing something refreshing. As he passed through the Halls of the Grim’s Fortress, he noticed a sign posted on the bulletin:
Hallow's End marks the day the group of undead, who would later be known as the Forsaken, broke free of the Lich King's dominance and once again regained their free will. Mai'kull had always maintained his free-will, then again he was not one of the former scourge under the Lich King. Former Sin’Dorei Magi; He offered his life to Lady Sylvanas Windrunner after the fall of the Lich King, and was one of the first test subjects to be risen as the new Forsaken through the Val'kyr.“Hallows End is upon us. We celebrate the tales of old and the freedom of the Forsaken. Bring Peace to the festivities!”
To be honest, he never truly recovered from the cultural shock; the change from Quel’Dorei to Sin’Dorei was damming enough to him as a child, but to be stripped of his natural grace. His own people and friends looking down upon him, despite still being the same person he was. I guess now he understood more how the Forsaken felt, being former Quel’Dorei and Humans, adapting to a world who now despised or distrusted them.
There had been many conversations among his own Guild members, about Mai’kulls obsession with his culture. Still choosing Thalassian over Gutterspeak, hiding his decaying face behind a mask, even clutching to his Orb of the Sin'dorei for moments of normality. Maybe it was time he embrace his newfound heritage.
Leaving the Guild Hall, he set off to the Ruins of Lordaeron, where the final day of Wickerman Festival was taking place. He was sure that would be a good place to start...better late than never at least. The Scryer’s taught him that it was always important to go out and live in the world, rather than just protect it; else you forget why you devote yourself.
Several little shops and stands were set up about the courtyard. Mai’kull mindlessly wandered between them, unsure of what to do or start. It wasn’t until he was called over by a Forsaken woman “Since your clearly not doing anything, how about giving me a hand?” she called out. He was to say, a little taken by her outburst, “Excuse me?” “Honey…you have been pacing the courtyard for 15 minutes, if you need to find something to do, get your bony keester over here and give me a hand!”
Mai’kull felt a bit ashamed, she was right, he was at the point of contemplating finding an excuse to get back to his work before she called out to him. He begrudgingly approached her little tent and looked around, “So what is it you need help with?” he asked.
“Candace Fenlow by the way, and glad you asked. The foolish Alliance have employed hags to fuel an attack on our city. Well, as my sister once told me, "Turnabout is fair play."
We will gladly return the favor. Speak with my sister, and she will provide you with a broomstick flight over Stormwind. While over Stormwind, drop stink bombs on the city and on the people. Make them suffer! We will show those hags in Stormwind who is the most powerful.”
“Stormwind…You want me to fly over Stormwind…and drop stink bombs over their city?” He asked, a tone of disbelief in his voice. Candace simply tossed a makeshift grenade in her hand and grinned “Bombs away, am I right?” ‘This is some bullshit…’ he thought to himself, but then considered this was probably part of the act. They probably have a small straw maze set up to resemble Stormwind, plenty of kids here to get them in on the spirit. He threw his hands up in mental defeat “Oh what the hell…Lets go!”
He approached the sister and watched as she summoned up her Magical Broom. Mai’kull was handed a large sack of Stinkbombs as the Forsaken Witch tossed an unknown magical potion in the air which fell back down coating the two undead and the broom. “Hop on, This is going to be one wild ride!” she said. Mai’kull did as instructed and hopped onto the back of the broom, and quickly grabbed for support as the Witch blasted off into the air.
‘Kinda fast for a kids ride?’ he thought to himself as he rocketed for the clouds. Just then a portal opened up before them and without a chance to speak or react, the pair disappeared from the sky.
‘HOLY SHIT!’ he mentally screamed as the rooftops of the Human Capital zoomed under his feet. “Wait…Were…WHAT?!” he began, but the witch only laughed as Mai’kull was clearly losing his mind. “Relax Kiddo, were safe! I’m maintaining the Invisibility Potion, so they can’t see us. As long as you don’t cast magic, and just chunk the bombs over that I gave you, we will be fine!” The realization became apparent as they whizzed past an unsuspecting Flying Griffon Rider. “They stink up their city, we repay the favor in kind, So common Cadaver, and fling those foul fumes!”
After the first pass, Mai’kull calmed down. Once again he was embarrassed by his disbelief, he could think of a million things he could be doing with this opportunity had he been given proper warning, but the time for debating was over. He was out here to stop thinking and just do, and that he did. Reaching into his pack he cast out the first few bombs, landing in various places. The Witch scoffed “My Grandmother throws better than that, and she’s cremated!”
‘Oh Really?’ he thought, taking up the Witches Challenge. Lions Rest, The Cathedral of Light, The Orphanage, The Market House, Even an unsuspecting baker standing outside selling his wears, none were safe from the Archmage’s Oder Onslaught. The pair of them laughed as another Stink Bomb fell amongst a squadron of soldiers in formation, causing them to break ranks and hold their noses. “OH YOU GOTTEM THERE BOY!” “Oh, I think that one puked in his helm!” Mai’kull laughed, watching a human soldier rush for the waters edge.
Deciding not to press their luck, the Witch opened a portal outside the Stormwind Harbor and the two set back down in the Ruins of Lordaeron a minute later. Dismounting, and almost collapsing to the ground in laughter, they were met by Candace. “How did it go?.” She smirked. The sister was caught up on the details of their escapades, and too joined in the laughter “That baker looked like a Griffon shit on his head, it was PRICELESS!” The witch cackled.
Once Candace settled her lungs, she withdrew a small crystal from her robes. “Well It seems that in response to our stink bombing Stormwind, the Alliance has decided to stink bomb our city. Fortunately, we have magics that can handle the stink the Alliance bring us. Mai’kull, can you use this Arcane Cleanser to remove the stink fumes from the sewers. Honestly the potency from the alliance is nothing compared to our own, but out-of-town visitors have been complaining to the guards.” Mai’kull took the item from her without hesitation and nodded. “Ill take care of it.”
’That was fun’ he thought to himself as he descended the elevators from the Throne Room to the Sewers. He was glad he got out and did this. Sin’Dorei were always so stuck up and proper, you could barley find one to actually loosen up around. The Scryers were never like that, he felt it almost disappointing when the Dark Portal opened up and he came back home, full of aristocratic, judgmental, holier-than-tho assholes, the damn lot of them. Though crude and a bit more vile than he was accustom too, the Forsaken were allright.
Taking a trip around the inner and outer rings of the Undercity, Mai’kull was able to clean up the fumes left behind by the Alliance Hags. The Arcane Cleanser efficiently caused a wind vacuum that dissipated each stink cloud within seconds. He returned topside to meet up with Candace again and let her know the task was complete, for now.
“Oh im glad you’re here. There's something wrong with my friend, Edgar. Normally, he loves the Hallow's End festivities, but he's been sullen and reclusive lately. He spends all his time in the Broken Tusk in Orgrimmar drinking with the orcs. Would you mind stopping by and seeing if there's anything you can do to cheer him up? If you’re not too busy that is, I know how quickly you Mages can pop too and from as you do.”
Mai’kull felt it was only fair to aid the Forsaken, as she had given him the best time of his undead life in quite some time. He agreed to find this Edgar and see what he could do. Mai’kull wasn’t much of a people person, but if the guy was drunk and depressed, he didn’t feel he could do much more damage. With a quick port, Mai’kull began the accent from the Cleft of Shadows into the Valley of Strenght.
Edgar was literally the only other Undead in the bar, so he wasn’t hard to find. Just as Mai’kull went to approach him, the Forsaken took a swig of his drink and belched out, “Candace sent you? She knows me too well. I've hit a rut in my research and I've been waiting for a very important delivery, but the courier's late...” “Well, you want me to tell Candace not to worry?” Mai’kull asked, thinking to himself for a moment ‘Well that was easy…’
“No…See. The delivery is here in Orgrimmar, somewhere. I told that courier to take the zeppelin, but no, he had to use the goblin ship! Well, now he's late and my precious family heirlooms are with him. If you're willing to help, would you go down to the docks east of Orgrimmar, and see what's keeping him?” ‘Nevermind…’
Sometimes, you have to admire Goblin Engineering. The technology in Area 52, Horde Gunships, The Goblin Submarines…Then the build shit like this, and it makes you realize, Goblin Engineering is REALLY hit and miss.
Mai’kull quickly boarded the scrapheap—I mean ship, and looked around. A lower cartel with precious little funds must have constructed this monstrosity. And as where it was sea-worthy at least, it was probably due to the fact the sea floor didn’t want to be littered with it. He approached one of the deckhands, “Excuse me, Im looking for an Orc Currier who booked passage on this ship…know where he might be?” The tiny goblin looked at Mai’kull for a second before grinning. “I dunno…depends on who’s askin!” it smirked.
‘Great…hes one of THOES goblins…’ the Mage thought before engulfing himself in Combusting flames. He did NOT have the time or patience for this kind of crap, and he wasn’t going to let this little green shit-stain ruin his good mood. Taking the hint, the deckhand quickly jumped back, “OK OK, I aint paid to keep secrets, He’s up there!” he screeched, pointing towards the cabins. Mai’kull shook his hands out, extinguishing the flames before smiling and giving a thankful bow to the little creature.
Mai’kull found the room all right, and the Courier, and the knife sticking out of his back. ‘Well this just keeps getting better and better…’ he thought to himself as he examined the room. It did not appear to be a struggle, no signs or clues of who or what attacked the Orc. And no sign of the package to be delivered. Possibly a robbery. He contemplated the crew, but then again they would have dumped the body overboard…assuming they were that intelligent. But as he reached down to examine the body, a swarm of minute little spiderlings came bursting forth out of the Orc’s body. Mai’kull retracted quickly, but it was apparent they were not attacking, more so leaving the ship, in a nice and neat little line.
Mai’kull left the room and watched as the scores of insects poured from the room onto the ship and then then leaped to the dock. What was a bit more suppressing was that no one was paying them any mind. ‘Am I going crazy?’ he considered, before quickly giving chase to the conga line of critters.
Down the docks, and all the way across Bladefist Bay, Mai’kull chased the never ending stream of skitters, who were filing in order down the path. As he ran, he could almost feel them passing through his feet. Curiosity tempted him and he stepped down on one, only to find it phased through him and continued to march on. ‘Well at least that explains a few things…’ he considered. The line had finally reached the gates of Orgrimmar, making a neat turn into the city. Once again no one else paid mind to the spider stream scuttling into the city, so Mai’kull slowed to a brisk pace.
It probably had something to do with the corpse he touched, which attuned him to whatever realm these spiders were from, and he was certain they were leading him down the path of whom ever had killed him and taken the package meant for Edgar. Past the bar and straight into the Auction House, the spiders continued their march, but Mai’kull could tell they were getting fewer in number. Perhaps the magic was fading away. But not before leading them straight to a particular culprit.
The Goblin Auctioneer Drezmit stood in his perch, and Mai’kull could tell he was unnerved, perhaps he could see the spiders too. “Have I got a deal for you! Can I interest you in a payment plan?!” Drezmit asked in a forced cheery voice, as Mai’kull approached his perch. “No, but I would be delighted to hear of some questionable merchandise of a now dead courier and some spectral spiders…” the Archmage said coldly.
“Keep your voice down and don't let word of this get out or I'm finished as an auctioneer!!” the goblin hissed. He bent down, nervously glancing at his other co-workers before continuing in a hushed voice, “Look, I told that shady character that there might be a shop more open to his, uh, wares in the Drag. Droffer's and Son Salvage is the name of the place. Look for Dran Droffers. He oversees the 'salvage' of rare and valuable objects from all over Azeroth. That’s all I did, I didn’t take nothin, we run a legit business here.”
“Oh, and I’m sure I wont find that Mr. Droffer wont have a percentage of the ‘Finders Fee’ waiting for you as well?” Mai’kull snapped. “Hay, half the gold that funnels through these auction houses are taken off the corpses of your enemies out there. I don’t ask where it comes from from you, nor would I from…charitable donations. Guy’s gatta make a livin ya know!”
Shady, yes…almost all Goblins were; but Guilty? No…This one was just the contact point. The spectral spiders had all but disappeared by this point so Mai’kull continued on with his lead, Droffer's and Son Salvage. It was a little hut right before the Valley of Honor. He remembered passing it several times while in the city, but never paid it any attention. Guess that’s what a good smuggling business counted on.
It had appeared as if he arrived just in time, both Shop keepers Dran and Malton Droffers were in, and arguing with a Blood Elf. Mai’kull stood by the doorway listening in for a few minutes to assess the situation.
Delian Sunshade says:
“There's no point in denying it, Dran! That thief knew exactly where to bring his stolen goods.
Dran Droffers says:
“I don't know what you're talking about, elf, and I don't appreciate you pokin' around in my business!
Dran Droffers says:
“I do seem to have mistakenly come into possession of some artifacts from Uldum. Perhaps the Reliquary is interested in those?
Delian Sunshade says:
“Shall we see what the grunts have to say about your stolen antiquities?
Dran Droffers says:
“Fine, Fine. I may have helped him contact an interested buyer. But keep your voice down! You'll scare away my customers.
Delian Sunshade says:
“Now we're getting somewhere...
Delian turns to face Mai’kull and says:
“And you, what's your interest”
“I was coming to ask them the same questions…” Maikull replied, in Thalassian . The Elf was a bit taken from hearing its native language out of the mouth of the Undead, most were at first, but quickly regained composure, a bit relived to be able to hold a conversation the Orcs could not follow. “You look like you know something about these missing goods.”
“I was asked by an interested party to investigate what happened to their delivery, Tried to talk to the courier, but he’s dead, and I’m not a warlock.” The Sin’Dorei laughed a bit, “So someone else hired you to retrieve this crate? I don't like the sound of that.
That crate's contents belong in the care of the Reliquary. The items it holds are very powerful and very dangerous. We have to find the meeting that Dran set up between the thief and the collector, but first, we'll need to protect ourselves from the effects of handling that crate. Ill buy some arcane powder from a reagent merchant, and get vials from an alchemy merchant, if you can pick some blood nettle in the Valley of Wisdom. With that I can whip up a concoction that should protect us from the worst effects of carrying or handling the crate. We can work out who owns what as soon as we have it back out of thieves hands.”
A sound plan, Mai’kull set out to the valley to the west of the little shop and took little to no time finding the right plant. Thankfully he had just begun to study alchemy, or else he would have no idea what he was looking for. Gathering the herbs gave him time to think. ‘Edgar was either lying to me about owning that package, or was unaware it was stolen. Either way this is turning into a nice little clusterfuck.’
Once he had all the ingrediants, he met up with the Elf back at the shop. The Orcs seemed displeased he was still there, but his threats to go to the guards kept them in line. After a small bout of trial and error, only enough potion remained for one protection spell. The two looked at one another, and the Elf’s eyes fell onto Mai’Kulls blade. “Is that Felo’melorn?!” he asked.
“Yes, I claimed it from Lyandra Sunstrider in Icecrown Citadel not long ago.” “Then perhaps you can be trusted, here, take this. According to Dran, the "collector" who wants the crate is none other than the insane Archmage Xylem of Azshara. The archmage's faithful servant is to meet with the man who has the crate in a secluded corner of the courtyard in the Ruins of Lordaeron. You must get there in time to intercept the exchange and retrieve the crate before Xylem gets his hands on it. If you can get the crate, meet me at the Wyvern's Tail in the Valley of Honor.”
Mai’kull wasted no time summoning a portal back to the Undercity. Mai’kull quickly met up with Candace to update her on her friend’s condition. Then he headed up the stairs from the Courtyard to finish this trivial quest. But as he past the landing, he stumbled across a solemn sight.
Laying on the pavement was the body of a fallen forsaken. His eyes black as coal, his body once more cold, the second life that once breathed through this body was gone. “What the hell?!” Mai’kull could once again see several spectral spiders crawling around on the ground amongst the corpse. The same foul magic that accursed him on the boat had returned. Taking his que he took the potion given to him by Delian, which did little to lessen the effects. ‘Wonderful…’
As Mai’kull continued down the path, the magic in the air grew thicker, and so did the body count. “How the HELL are the abominations not noticing this!?” just as his words rang out, a crackle of void energy struck the ground next to him, damn near causing him to jump out of his skin. He grasped his blade for a moment, but there was no enemy in sight, just the energy in the air reacting upon itself. He could see surges of power in the mists around him, whatever was causing all this was getting close.
There, standing over another Forsaken was a Sin’Dorei. Dark energy surging from its hands into the lifeless corpse before him, and right in-between the two was a mysterious crate.
“Archmage Xylem does not bargain with the likes of you, ruffian. There shall be no payment!” the Blood Elf cackled at his victim. Filled with remorse and rage for his fallen people, Mai’kull burst into flames, roaring in anger he called out to the Elf, “HAY GOLDILOCKS! TRY THAT SHIT WITH ME!”
The elf turned his attention to Mai’kull and only chuckled at his display of power,
“What's this, an intruder? Let's see what the artifacts inside this box can do, shall we?” The elf hopped to the back side of the crate and kicked it over. Dark magic oozed out of the cracks in the crate, and slowly formed a giant void walker which stood before Mai’kull. The Sin’Dorei Magister couldn’t look more smug as the Void walker descended upon Mai’kull. Unfortunate for him, Mai’kull had previously mastered the Manual of Void-Calling granting him the power of dominion over Void walkers, and with but a snap of his fingers, the creature was banished back into the nether.
“This isn't supposed to happen!” the elf cried out, now nothing standing between him and the extremely pissed off Forsaken Mage. The look of shock and horror now painted on his face bought joy to the undead’s heart, he always loved it when smug bastards got their just deserves. The elf jumped back and prepared a spell in his hands. Mai’kull allowed him, he could feel his power from here, and it was NOTHING compaired to his own, it was the magic from the crate that was filling the air around him, not the Elf.
However he realized his lapse in judgement all but too late. The -attack- he was anticipating from the elf, was in fact a teleport spell masked in an arcane fold. “NO!” Mai’kull roared, reaching out with his hands and spewing Dragons Breath across the courtyard. It was too late however, as the blasted mage had escaped him, teleporting away to safety. It would have been too much of a hassle to tap into the lay-line flows and try and follow him now. Mai’kull cursed himself as he stood alone in the Ruins, the bodies of his people laying all around.
He had informed the Deathguards, who quickly quarantined off the area and began clean up. The crate was secured in Mai’kulls pack before they got there. He explained everything he saw, and gave them the information he knew about Sanath Lim-yo before he was released. They were going to do what they could to keep this “incident” from spreading to the festivities, as to not dampen the mood, and Mai’kull understood.
As he walked the path back in Ogrimmar, he reflected on what all had occurred. Though his expedition outside had been quite fun in the beginning, it quickly went sour fast, and he could not wait to be through so he could return to his work. Crate in hand, Mai’kull stood outside the Wyvern's Tail in the Valley of Honor, where he was to meet the Sin’Dorei. He withdrew his Orb of Sin’Dorei from his pocket, intent on meeting the other Magister face-to-face so to speak, but stopped.
Why…What did that Sin’Dorei mean to him, that he would hand over the crate so easily? What of Edgar…and the Forsaken who died because of this package. Why continue to masquerade himself just to feel like he fit in. Oddly enough his current choice mocked his mental struggle….to choose between the Sin’Dorei or the Forsaken. Candace welcomed him with open arms, without a thought, her sister brought him laughter, despite how he looked, they didn’t judge…maybe it was time he started to let go of his former life. Nothing was going to bring him back to the way he was…his death was his choice, and he had to live with that now, with his own people…and with that, he put the orb back in his pocket.
Back in the Broken Tusk bar, Mai’kull handed Edgar the package. “Fuck you by the way…you could have given me all the details on this…” Edgar laughed, “Sorry friend, didn’t realize the seal had cracked on it…never send an Orc to perform a delicate operation that’s for sure. I trust it didn’t cause you too much trouble? Candace told me about the deaths…I had no idea.” Mai’kull nodded and took a drink from the table, “It’s fine… they took the fallen to the Val'kyr, in hopes of bringing them back. Mostly going to hunt down that low-born slave who caused all of this…hope it was worth it at least.”
“To be honest, I never thought you'd be able to recover it. Well, let's see it!” Edgar exclaimed, his mood generally uplifted. He traced a magical rune over the top of the crate which seemed to sedate whatever was inside. Opening the lid, it looked as if it were filled to the brim with black oil like gas. Edgar reached in and withdrew a relic inside and closed the lid again. As soon as the lid closed, the crate began to rumble. “It should be fine now, a simple void guardian however it was feeding on this, which increased its strength and caused all that havoc.” Edgar explained. ”You can keep it if you like, as a token of my thanks. They are very helpful in protecting valuables, and even feast on common critters.”
Mai’kull lifted the box and examined it. The lid creaked open a bit, showing the shadowy darkness within and a pair of red glowing eyes. This Spooky little box was a perfect token for his first true Hallows End celebration. “Thank you.” Mai’kull said, nodding to Edgar. “Victory for Sylvanas!” “Happy Hollows End!”
After summoning another portal, Mai’kull walked out of the gates of Lordaeron back towards The Grim’s Guild Hall. He sat back down at his desk and looked at the paperwork before him. In his lap lay the slightly rumbling little crate he had received. It was moments like this that renewed his lust to annihilate all enemies of the Horde so that they could live in peace, such as this night, every night.
“Peace through annihilation….Victory for Sylvanas” he whispered into the night and grabbed a new scroll off his shelf.