Design Flaw

The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))
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Qabian
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Design Flaw

Unread post by Qabian »

((Gratuitous violence.))

A young human man, explorer or adventurer, maybe soldier, stood before the steps to Ulduar, unable to hear anything but the wind. His jaw dropped, mouth gaping open as he stared upwards at the imposing structure before him.

Qabian stepped soundlessly from a floating disc into the snow beside the young man. He put a hand on the fellow's shoulder and said in thickly accented Common, "Impressive, yes?"

"Uh huh." The man didn't even turn to see who was talking to him, still staring wide-eyed at the Titan architecture. It was not an easy or an often taken road these days. He had doubtless spent a great deal of effort to finally be standing on that precipice. Maybe he assumed the voice at his side was one of the friendly locals. Maybe he was waiting on a companion he assumed had finally arrived. Unfortunately for him, Northrend remained a dangerous place for assumptions.

Whatever the reason for the human's inattention, Qabian smirked at what a little false friendliness could accomplish. The mage lifted his translucent blade to one side, and with a heavy slash and a thick crunch, hacked through the human's leg at the shin. The man screamed, but his voice was cut off as a blast of fire to the back of his head sent him sliding forward across the ground, unconscious in the blood streaked snow.

==

Qabian was actually rather pleased to see the proliferation of replica Felo'melorn blades so popular within the Tirisgarde. It felt like the least the mages could do to honor elven superiority, given what Jaina had done to Dalaran. When Qabian received the plans for the Stars' Design from the Nightfallen, he was reluctant to use them. Why would he bother when he could mirror the weapon of the very kings of Silvermoon? But after receiving the Design, Qabian could tell its pattern held further power he had not yet discovered and resolved to wield it until he had successfully learned all its secrets.

The Design's mimicry of certain Titan aesthetics was undeniable, and it was this that sent the Magister to Ulduar: curiosity. If the Nightborne knew the reasons why the Titan style was so strong, they were either refusing to share or were on the wrong side in the war, so Qabian decided to look into it for himself.

This was not the mage's first trip to Ulduar with the blade, but happening upon a victim standing on the steps was pure coincidence.  Though the real threats that had once made their home in the Titan palace had been dealt with long ago, it was still dangerous for the inexperienced, a lesson Qabian felt uniquely qualified to impart given that, for the moment, the halls were empty but for echoes.

Qabian dragged the young man's limp body by the collar toward the planetarium, the partially cauterized stump of human's leg leaving a smeared trail of ash and blood across the shining floors of the antechamber.

As the massive stones that locked the planetarium door shifted into place, the hapless fellow moaned, regaining consciousness. "L-light... save me... What did you--" He immediately clutched at his wounded leg with a howl.

Qabian chuckled, dragging the man to the center of the mirrored floor. The mage stood with his back to the man, staring up at the curiously painted ceiling. "Don't run off now," Qabian said, smirking to himself.

The man sucked in air between gritted teeth. "What do you want from me?"

"We will get there. Do you know this place?" Qabian kept his words simple in the language he hated.

"It's Ulduar, you -- you -- "

Qabian toward the man, grinning wickedly down at him. "You what?"

The man bit down on his lower lip.

"Mm. What I thought. This," Qabian motioned with his arm, encompassing the circular room, "is where the Titans were to call for this world to end. But they did not. Do you know why?"

"How the fuck should I know?!" the man shouted, tears forming in his eyes, breathing heavily as the pain of his leg shot through him.

"Anger?" Qabian tilted his head as he stared down at the man "Not for you. I need something else. I know why this world still is." The mage held out his starred blade in front of him. "Algalon was too quiet." The sword was designed for magic, not for cutting, and Qabian was no trained butcher. The wound it had made in severing the man's foot was jagged and raw. "We will see if you can do better. Do not pass out this time."

Qabian put one foot to the man's chest, forcing him back against the floor. The blood elf grabbed the man's wrist while levering the white glowing blade into the human's shoulder. The edge cut inelegantly into the joint, catching between the bones. The man shrieked, clawing weakly at the boot crushed to his chest with his free hand.

"Exactly," the blood elf hissed, his grin widening, showing more teeth with each movement as he separated the man's arm from his body. "Maybe you will end this world where the Titans did not."

==

Back in his apartment a few hours later, Qabian sat at his desk, running a soft rag down the sword's blade. The weapon had been clean for some time, but he continued scrubbing at it. When he was finally satisfied, he put the sword to one side and leaned over the open books spread across the desk. The topmost pages revealed a notebook full of detailed sketches of the Stars' Design itself. Something in the most recent sketch caught his attention.

Qabian reached for the sword he had just put aside and lifted it over the page. At some point between making the sketch and his most recent trip to Ulduar, the blade had acquired a new star.

The mage stared between the blade and the book uncertainly for a long moment, then suddenly burst out laughing.
"While our enemies remain, peace is not victory." ~Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner
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