Elinel
The crisp air on the mountain is exceptionally frigid today. Newly fallen snow covers the grounds of the guild hall, dampening the ambient sounds of the mountain into an serene silence. The movements of a doe can be seen outside the gates, slow and delicate. She stops and takes in her surroundings, peering into the newly constructed outpost. Suddenly her head spins around and she freezes. It takes her a few moments to regain control of her reflexes before she bolts off into the woods. Over the crest of a hill emerges a massive grey yeti. They aren’t an uncommon occupant of the Alterac Mountains, but this one is unusually large and menacing. It spots the outpost and turns his body to face the entrance gate. The expression on its face changes from neutrality to rage when it sees the occupants inside.
It roars loud enough to shake the fresh snow from the trees and then charges.
Syreenna
A pair of armored guards at the gate see the beast and prepare to defend. One speaks into a hearthstone fixed to the hood of his coat. "Grim! We're under attack! Backup defense is needed at the gate!"
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira found herself, once again, amidst Khorshah’s belongings. She had no idea where the Tauren has gone, or when he might return, but he’d left her behind, along with his other ... trophies? Reminders?
She was louder here. Louder and infuriatingly even more incomprehensible. The draw remained, however, stronger now that Mira could hear her again. Standing there, Shahadra’s sibilant nonsense crawled along Mira’s skin and scraped at the inside of her skull.
The guard’s voice over the hearthstone pushed Shahadra away and the memory of panic jolted through her. Had she been discovered here? But no, this was not about her. The cold tail of panic twisted into a battle-hardened detachment and she unsheathed her runeblade, made her way to the gate.
Curwyn
Curwyn was sitting in one of Oribos' many cafes and losing at a game of chess to a Broker. He sighed to himself as he glanced at the amount of markers the entity had taken from him. And I thought I was good at this. I suppose there are benefits to amortality.
The Broker, whose name he had never bothered to learn, pointed at the satchel Curwyn had dropped under the table when he'd sat down several hours ago. "Your container seems to be screaming in alarm, mortal."
Zarilix
Sprinting down the hall towards the front doors, the two guards, who had suspiciously escorted the supplicant priest to the Felmancer Greebo but less than an hour ago, were now being joined by several other Grim guards on their way out towards the gates. The front doors swung open with a crash, followed by the clanging of shifting metal as the troops readied their defensive positions.
Beneath their feet dashes and dodges a Maldraxxian critter, screeching out of distress as its abdomen began to pulsate rapidly. Zarilix tails the guards with wonder and amazement at their readiness, and with bewilderment as to what is actually taking place. “DARIUS!” he calls to his pet, dropping to his bony knees, and scooping the bloodlouse larva into his leathery hands.
The giant yeti bellows once again from beyond the gates, forcing the traumatized larva to leap and quickly crawl up the sleeve of the priest’s tattered robes. Zarilix flicks his head towards the roar as it triggers a flashbulb memory of his time years ago when he was stationed at Tarren Mill. “Oh... yes... YES! I remember.. YES!” He claps his hands out of his eagerness for action, pauses, and instantly drops his arms along with his crooked smile. The priest’s whispers begin to intensify as he morphs into a moving shadow of himself. He follows Mira towards the gate.
Elinel
Elinel is sitting in the Dalaran infirmary with a small group of Kirin Tor mages. Looking around, she sees the faces of great mages she never imagined she would be in the same room with. The previous occupant of this body, Audra Renn, was a respected mage among the order so it was no surprise that the alarms Addikus set off in her apartment would gather the attention and concern of superiors.
“I’m fine, really.” Elinel says in a voice that was not her own. I may never get used to hearing her voice coming out of my mouth, she thought to herself.
The nurse in charge of her care was gentle and polite. “Until we know for certain that your life and research is no longer in danger, we can’t allow you leave surveillance. I’m sorry, Miss Renn,” he says as he applies a glowing salve to her dagger wounds. My research?
The hearthstone she conceals in a hidden pocket on her bodice radiated with heat and gently pulsed a code she understood as an urgent SOS. There are too many people in this room to respond… she thought to herself.
“Could somebody escort me to the ladies’ room?” Elinel asks sweetly.
“Of course, Miss Renn. Through this door,” her nurse motions to a door in the corner of the room.
Elinel carefully makes her way to the small bathroom, her dagger wounds still fresh. Once the door is closed she retrieves her hearthstone. “Grim! We're under attack! Backup defense is needed at the gate!"
She holds the stone close to her face and whispers “This is Elinel. I’m being detained in Dalaran for the time being. Hidon or Meriette, are either of you available to provide arcane assistance? When I was there earlier this week I didn't sense any active barrier spells, which isn't a surprise because we aren't scheduled to erect those for another couple of days. I will assist as soon as I can get away.”
Elinel carefully places the hearthstone back into her bodice, washes her hands, and returns to the infirmary.
Zarilix
A high-pitch scream is heard from the sky as a blood elf scout was just hurled over the Garrison walls and crashes into the courtyard with a great thud. Several at the gate look back at the limp and lifeless body and quickly return their gaze to the yeti that is now standing on its two legs.
The monster beats its chest like a drum with a great boom of a roar as it stands over fallen scouts like a mountain, one of them who is still writhing in agony. Those watching can see that the yeti’s wrists are cuffed with chains, chains for giants, that have been broken and now fly and swing freely at the abominable creature’s movement. Looking closely, they can also notice different types of flesh, that of ogre, ettin, and different patches of yeti fur have been layered and stitched over its scarred, enormous body. Tubes and drains are sown into its flesh, pumping a blight-like substance that can be seen every few seconds in the beast’s green-glowing veins.
The yeti stands on all fours now, its body swelling and pulsing with rage as the giant beast resumes its earth-shaking charge towards the gate. Now only a few yards away.
Elinel
The few guards who remained conscious fall into a defensive formation. Their eyes nervously searching the courtyard for their commanding officer or members of their employer's organization. "Gariluk, where is the Sergeant?" The young orc guard calls to his detail partner.
"Aye, Throk." Gariluk scrambles up the ladder propped against the perimeter wall to survey the courtyard. "West gate! He's heading our...AAAGH!" The yeti's arm sweeps out and hurls Gariluk off the ladder. He crashes to the ground with a thud.
"Brother!!" Throk bellows. He turns to the yeti at the gates, securing his stance. "Now this is personal…”
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira stops near the crumpled form of the dead blood elf. Red mingles with the churned snow and she doesn't spare him a second glance. The yeti, on the other hand. The quick flashes of it through the gates, the swipe of arm, the clang of chain, and the stink of rot and decay and wet fur.
The elf and the orc are fresh enough that one of the healers might be able to salvage them, but beneath the snow, yes, there. Leave it to the Grim to build their new base near unmarked graves. Quiet and peaceful, dead for how long, Mira couldn't say. They would be distractions, if nothing else.
Mira presses her will into the handful of corpses she senses close at hand. The ground is frozen, but they tear their way up through it because she demands it of them. "Da Scourge!" The call comes from another part of the wall.
"Those are mine." Mira's voice carries through the chill air and a pair of corpses fling themselves, snarling, at the yeti.
Curwyn
Sergeant Grimjaw finished fastening the last of his armor straps over his gut, banged open the door to his hut, and immediately regretted it. The wind was howling and it blew at least a centimeter of snow into his small abode, covering both the bed and his latest edition of Pride and Prejudice and Goblins, potentially ruining the cover. He'd heard the call a few minutes ago, but he figured he'd have a little while before anyone noticed he wasn't around, and he'd wanted to finish his chapter. Nothing ever happened up here anyway.
He hadn't even finished the next page before the screaming started, and it wasn't coming over the network.
The angry bellow he'd been working on while suiting up died on his lips as his eyes adjusted to the weather. He spotted two of what he privately referred to as 'the Bosses' in the courtyard surveying the wreckage of several of his guards - one of them with one of those fancy engraved swords, the other looking like some kind of dark, anthropomorphic puddle. Guess I'm gonna have to earn my pay today.
He signaled to one of the remaining elves, who hurried over and gave him a situation report; monster or monsters, big ones, had caught the scouts in the middle of ice skating practice. The result had just been hurled over the wall - the things had likely followed the scent trail back to the garrison. Grimjaw nodded at the end of the report and quietly told him to keep the first part quiet - the Bosses were notoriously fickle and unlikely to take the news that their employees dealt with the isolation of the mountains by "not doing their jobs whenever possible" particularly well.
He took a deep breath, girded himself, and headed over to the two Bosses. "We got a situation - something above our pay grade just wiped out our outer defenses and seems intent on breaking down the walls."
Elinel
Throk knows that he can't charge a yeti that big, especially one who is possibly covered in blight. He tosses his axe aside and rushes to the corpse of a fallen archer. It's been a while since he's held a bow in his hands, but surely it's like riding a wolf. He picks up the bow and nocks an arrow. This isn't like riding a wolf. He breathes in slowly and as he releases his breath fires the arrow directly at the yeti's face.
The arrow slams into the yeti's cheek. This catches it off guard and causes the yeti to stumbles backwards a few steps.
Meriette
Meriette sat lazily under the tall oak tree enjoying the cool shade it provided. She couldn't help laughing to herself quietly as she watched her daughter Abigail dance merrily across the long grass in pursuit of a large yellow butterfly. Buzz..buzz. Do butterflies buzz? What was that noise? She looked down at the needlepoint sitting on her lap and realized she had pricked her finger absent-mindedly. A bead of deep crimson had begun to form on the tip of her fair skin. As she stared fixated, her head began to swoon.
It was late, the moon already high overhead. Meriette looked around confused. She was sitting in a creaky rocking chair. The room in which she sat contained the chair, a rotted bed frame with two broken posts, and a dusty armoire covered in cobwebs with one crooked door hanging by a hinge. How strange, she thought to herself suddenly realizing the moonlight illuminated the room from directly overhead. Looking up, expecting to see the wooden beams of a ceiling, she realized there were none. The house, if it could be called a house was nothing more than a few burnt posts and a pile of stone rubble that once formed walls.
The soft sounds of a familiar nursery rhyme rose up to absent rafters, then fell silent as Meriette became aware she had been humming to herself. Buzz...buzz. There was that sound again. It was coming from within the long black robes covering her bony frame. Reality came rushing back as Meriette reached into a fold revealing a smooth hearthstone that glowed and hummed.
"Grim! We're under attack!" The voice was Elinel's, calling out for assistance. Meriette strained hard, bringing her mind back into focus as she slowly rose and stumbled out of the ruin and onto open grass. Allowing a final glance at what had once been her happy home, she turned and steeled herself, allowing the rage to flow freely again. Reaching up to the dark sky she began muttering the incantation that would allow her to travel to where she was needed. Her hands began to smolder as purple sparks arced outward from her skeletal fingers, swirling around her faster and faster. A loud crack split the air, shaking the ground beneath her feet, then silence. The house sat empty again, the air around it stilled.
Zarilix
Its hands grabs the arrow, forcefully tearing off a piece of flesh with it, followed by swinging its enormous arms at the risen dead, several rotten body parts flying left and right. The one standing between the yeti and the gate is completely flattened by one stomp of the beast whose eyes are locked on the garrison.
By the archers on the wall, the shadow priest murmurs and whispers, stretching out his left hand as a dark blueish energy streams out towards the yeti’s forehead, psychologically slowing the monster’s movement so that the archers may have an advantage.
Arrows fly, several pierce its patched flesh, fueling the destructive rage of the superorganism as it reaches the gate.
BANG
The sturdy gate rattles, shaking off snow and dust.
BANG
Arrows rapidly stack on the yeti’s broad, furry shoulders as the archers, some calm, some frantic, continue to fire. Very few miss, yet it seems very little damage is done.
BANG
The wood splinters and chains begin to snap. Throk rushes down beside Mira and stations himself for the breach, swords and axes drawn.
BANG
Wood snaps, iron and stone flies, the gate breaks wide open as the yeti breaks through.
Curwyn
Grimjaw swore loudly and ducked as the under-maintained gate violently gave way, and then swore again as he finally got a look at their attacker - some kind of mutated, 'roided out version of the local yetis. He pushed any further speculation aside - he'd lived through multiple Horde campaigns and there was always incredibly bizarre things happening to the local wildlife.
"ARCHERS, FALL BACK. BRING UP THE SPEARS BUT JUST HEM IT IN! DON'T GET IN THE GRIM'S WAY!"
The trick with most of the egomaniacs in the 'adventuring' profession, he'd long ago learned, was to let them do the heavy lifting while making them think you were doing them a favor. Although, he thought, wincing to himself as one of the spearmen overextended and was hurled twenty feet into the air for his efforts, maybe he should re-institute training drills.
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira swears as the gate bursts. The air around her swirls crimson and then the place where she stood is empty. She appears behind the massive yeti, a shrill whistle escaping her lips as she does.
The slow, heavy flapping of wings can be heard in the distance.
"Why don't you fight something that'll fight back?" The elf's call is echoy, her tone cold as death. She swings her sword and a burst of shadow coils and twists around itself like some living plague as it flies toward the yeti.
Zarilix
Yet another guard slams to the ground with a loud thud. Grimjaw’s direction, however, gave a boost of morale to the spearman and surrounding troops, as well as Mira’s quick, infectious attack from behind the beast. Their quick adjustment proved successful in preventing the yeti’s advances. Every move the beast made resulted in a piercing jab from the spear, forcing it to back up a few feet. Mira’s attack then forced the beast to flinch forward into to the spearheads, where one of them caught some of the stitching in its right arm, tearing the patchwork that now dangles loosely.
Followed by a few of his void bolts penetrating the creature’s torso, Zarilix utters whispers with his decaying eyes set on the yeti below, attempting to harm its psyche. Normally, this proves successful, especially with dim-witted, wild creatures that live only by instinct and survival, but the mind blast did not work so well on this one.
Green fluids pumping Into it’s cranium, the monster cognitively recognizes the priest’s cerebral attack and glares at the shadow to his right on the wall.
In a matter of seconds, the yeti observes its loose chains hanging from its wrists, lifting them up with his arms.
With one great swing the chain on its right arm lashes out at the priest who manages to cast a shield of light that is immediately broken by the blast of metal, pushing the frail undead off his balance. Then the left arm swings from the right to the left towards the spearman. The chains follow suit, making a loud crashing of metal as it breaks several of the spears and catches the furthest guard to the left, swinging him into the wall with an explosion of stone and rock.
Shocked yet highly intrigued with this disaster of a creature, Zarilix thinks quickly and yells confusingly, “Tu-.The TUBES!”
Meriette
Deposited from the twisting nether, Meriette landed hard, head spinning. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that", she thought aloud attempting to right herself and brush the snow from her robe. A thunderous roar bellowing from the west immediately drew her gaze.
Breaking into a dead run she began casting her Triune Ward unsure of what creature could evoke such a sound only to stop short moments later, hinged jaw agape as she caught sight of the monstrous abomination wreaking havoc at what was once the perimeter gate.
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira sneers as the priest draws the yeti's attention. She lunges again, glimmering runeblade slicing at the beast's torso.
At the priest's shout, Mira considers. She eyes the tubes pumping sickly green through the beast and wrinkles her nose. A pestilence hums and buzzes in the air around her as she dances to the side of a sweeping hand? paw? and the chain that trails the movement. She forces another of the nearby long-dead from its resting place. It shambles forward dropping clods of earth from its fists, then leaps for the yeti, its arms flailing at the tubes.
Zarilix
The monstrosity of a yeti swings its arms, failing to reach the dead on its back who wildly tears at the tubes. The beast roars in agony. Two of the tubes detach and spiral out of control, spouting green fluids on the ground followed by its gaseous emissions. The closest guards begin to cough and choke for air, one falling to his knees.
Mira's risen continues to flail at the tubes recklessly as the yeti extends both of its arms over its maimed head and catches the corpse. With raging force the yeti pulls it off along with the tube it held tight to that was attached to the back of its skull. Green fluids shoot out once more as the disoriented yeti's arms go limp for a moment, dropping the ghoul, and stumbling back towards Mira.
Meriette
Fingers furiously wriggling to form the correct arcane gestures, Meriette draws the necessary energy through her core and out through her hands. Three arcane bolts hurtle across the open snow, slamming into the yeti.
Zarilix
The disoriented yeti snaps back into full awareness after the third slam of arcane power. The bolts drew fresh blood from its chest and arms. Confused and in a rage full of pain, the unhinged yeti slams his fists into the ground, kicking up green snow and knocking several guards off their balance. One falls flat on the ground as her insides continue to rot.
Zarilix grumbles as he gets back on his feet, registering - a little late now - the dangers of the hazardous fluids. The priest focuses on Grimjaw, Mira, and the mage, attempting to yell loudly in their minds, since he could barely make noise with his hoarse voice, "Out-OUT the GATE! LURE IT OUT! The pois-POISON - LURE IT OUT."
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira backs up as the yeti stumbles toward her, the churned snow squelching beneath her boots. "Light-blasted--" She cuts herself off as the yeti flails and takes out another guard. Another swing of her sword scores gash through the side of the beast's flesh, the abomination stitching pulling the split flesh open wide.
The priest's voice in her head sends a flare of fury through her and where her attacks had been methodical and considered, they become wilder, a little bit more feral. She disappears in a swirl of red, reappears farther outside of the gates and with a ragged shriek from the elf's throat, unholy power pulls the yeti toward her.
Zarilix
Several flinch to the shriek that echoes throughout the Alterac mountains. The wounded yeti appears to run in place as the dark forces overpower it and gradually pull the beast out of the garrison. Grimjaw yells, “Push forward!” The guards muster up and follow the yeti that has been towed out of the gate entrance towards Mira. Archers pivot on the walls and continue to fire. Two recently stationed mages run to the entrance, the first one casting fire over the blight-stained snow, the second casting frost with the intentions to contain it.
Zarilix passes the mages, sprinting towards the beast with a bobbing motion behind the troops. A voice calls out, not one of the many he normally hears in his head, but a familiar one from his flesh-stitched satchel. He removes his hearthstone that his Inquisitor recently enchanted and attempts to respond to the call. One troll guard sprints too close to the yeti that is being hauled towards the Death Knight. SMACK With one swipe the troll is catapulted toward’s Zarilix’s direction, whose hunched back saved the Forsaken from the flying body.
He finishes his response and stows the stone.
The Yeti finally reaches Mira stopping directly in front of her but facing the opposite way. The guards encircle the hurting beast who swings its chains but much slower this time. Zarilix closes in, attempting to send chaos into the creature’s mind. Success!! The yeti thrashes and rotates left and right with great confusion and a deafening yowl. Several slashes are made at the beast, making more tears as the blood begins to spill. Zarilix rejoices at his psychotic attack until he saw the back of a massive furry arm swinging his way. “Oh-BAM The priest is sent flying to the sky.
Meriette
Seeing the others rushing to engage, Meriette charges forward. Nearing the gate her foot slips in the blood and ooze soaked slush. Flailing wildly she just manages to cast her slow fall spell toward Zarilix before falling flat on her face in the muck.
Zarilix
The priest ceases to spiral out of control and finds himself in a standing position, floating in the frigid sky, descending ever so slowly.
“‘SCUSE ME!!” a goblin leaps over Meriette with thick yards of rope wrapped in his hands, hastily making his way to the Sergeant.
Zarilix
The yeti thrashes and roars with major signs of exhaustion and agony. Grimjaw receives one end of the thick rope and proceeds to run to the right of the mutant yeti and circle back around as the goblin does the same from the left. Their ropes cross and begin to tighten around the beast’s bloodied legs as well as catching one of the risen corpses within it.
One lap. Two laps.
The yeti grabs two of the guards: one letting out her last wail of pain as her body is crushed with great force from the monster’s clinching fist, the other being shaken and his body mangled by the turbulence. The breaking of their bones can be heard distinctly like the snapping of large oak trees.
Three laps. Four laps.
Several of the guards join Grimjaw by holding his end of the rope while others join at the goblin’s end.
“NOW!”
The guards run outward as the thick rope is tugged tighter on the yeti’s legs. It begins to swing round and round as its balance begins to lose way. With one unified tug the rope becomes taut, binding the confused yeti’s legs and severing the caught ghoul in half. The guards continue to run and pull. The monster sways back and forth trying to stand. With a beastly groan it plummets face down into the snow at Mira’s feet.
The yeti’s arms begin to slowly bend to help itself up..
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira steps up to the beast. Her runeblade is not made for hacking and so she plunges it point-first down into the beast's neck, severing the spine. Blood -- or what passes for it, in this abomination's veins -- doesn't so much spurt from the wound when she pulls her blade back out as it oozes, thick and hot and viscous. The stench is undoubtedly enough to turn a mortal's stomach.
Overhead, a risen wyrm circles the beast held aloft more by will and necromancy than any laws of physics.
Mira casts the wyrm a brief glance, then looks to the other Grim and the mercs in their service. "Are we keeping it for science?" The death knight has had far too much experience with the proclivities of certain members of the Grim to assume no one wants the monstrosity's corpse. "Or shall I make her earn her keep and dispose of it on some unsuspecting Alliance camp?" She gestures upward with a nod of her head to the wyrm.
Zarilix
“Save three pieces please!” Zarilix yells overhead, still slowly descending to the ground. “The rest is yours!”
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira looks at the yeti's corpse, then up at Zarilix. She snorts, says, "I leave it in your hands, then, to pick the thing over, my hands are dirty enough." She walks toward the gate, then pauses, turns slowly and looks up again, says, "And if I ever hear your voice inside of my head again, pray you do not find yourself within my reach."
Mira glances at the gate, and the distance from it that the yeti ended up. She smiles. "And remember that I have a long reach."
Zarilix
“Ooh!! Understood, that was only out of emergencies! My apologies!” The bones of his feet touch the snow as his body returns to an opaque form. “Thank you YOU for your aid YES thank you, err... Death Knight lady?”
He notices a rib sticking out of his right side.
“I... I didn’t catch your name...”
Meriette
Slipping a few more times, Meriette manages to get back on her feet. Covered in muck from head to toe she attempts to wipe some of the sludge from her robe. Noticing the immediate threat appears to be managed, she attempts a small wave and nod toward Zarilix and Mira, then excuses herself to head back up the hill to the Grim hold to clean up.
Morrowblood(Mira)
Mira considers for a moment as she looks the priest over. She purses her lips, then says, "Mirathendia Morrowblood." Her gaze flicks to the mage as she picks herself up and Mira gives the tiniest shake of her head. Is that dismay in the death knight's expression? Who can say.
Zarilix
“Mirathendia Morrowblood. Thank you! I won’t NO forget!” He whispers her lengthy name to himself multiple times.
Zarilix then switches his focus to Meriette, gratefully returning the wave as well as extending his arm towards the mage who kept slipping, releasing a manipulated form of light to help her levitate for the next few minutes. “I appreciate the lift, Meriette!” Looking at the troops standing over the mutated carcass, the supplicant attempts to bark orders, “Alright, guards. Let’s get this cleaned up nice NICE and orderly. First the legs then the”—STOPPING the priest with a strong pat to the chest and an up-close-and-personal glare, Grimjaw commands, “Soldiers, send back the wounded and the dead and bring me some damn scouts to see where this... thing came from.” The spearman obeyed and began moving. The Sergeant snorts in Zarilix’s face, “like the lady said, YOU clean this up,” and walks towards the garrison mumbling, “supplicant scum...”
Morrowblood(Mira)
Seeing that Zarilix appears to, in fact, be handling things, after a fashion, Mira makes her way back toward the gate. On her way through the gate, she pauses and glares at a small yellow mechanical rabbit. "Got here as fast as I could!" Tweezle Sparkscatter's voice comes through the rabbit's speakers.
"You are not, in fact, here, Tweezle." Mira shakes her head.
"Oh! Uh, you know me, boss. Lover not a fighter. Science, not violence." The mechanical rabbit's little nose quivers.
"Yes, I know. Make yourself useful with whatever follows this little incursion."
"Sure thing, boss."
"Assuming you can tear yourself away from whatever project currently occupies your... workroom." With that, Mira continues on to the barracks, leaving her minion -- well, her minion's mechanical minion -- to do whatever she's going to do.
The risen wyrm circles once more then comes in for a landing, wings churning up snow and muck as it touches down. It watches the corpse expectantly, ready to carry off whatever's left behind.
Zarilix
“Fascinating...” says Zarilix at the wyrm. The priest approaches the corpse and moves his arm to find the same rib in the way. He raises his left hand and presses the rib with his right. Out of the left comes a dark shadowy magic that drains over his undead body. Wounds and tears are mended, but the rib remains jutting out, not budging to his pressure. “We’ll just have to get that checked out later YES later...”
He removes a Maldraxxian bone saw from his waist and proceeds to take many minutes to delicately sever the mutant of a yeti into organized pieces, covered in grunge and gore.
“One foot for Greebo, the other for Inquisitor Zalanjo, yes YES lucky feet! Big BIG lucky feet!”
“A tooth for High Inquisitor, the largest SHARPEST one yes. And maybe an eye too?”
“One hand for the Shadowblade she will be pleased MOST pleased. And a ear of course, ha! And the other hand for Meriette’s crafty knitting.”
“And the horns.. the horns!! No. The WHOLE head! Yes AND horns Yes! A lovely trophy this could be for the Grim’s hall indeed.”
Those pieces being set apart, Zarilix lastly observes the rump of the mutilated beast and the relatively small, grungy containment pack attached with tubes and sockets. His blue, anima-powered eyes widen. “Yes YES! If this isn’t a sign for me I don’t know what WHAT is!” The elated undead drops his saw and uses his scythe to cleave the pack off of the yeti’s torso. He then drains the remaining sludge into the corpse’s gut, except for a few drops that he stored in a special vial. Lastly, the hermit of a priest rearranges the tubes and straps so that it goes into itself for proper circulation and straps the pack to his own, spiny back.
“The possibilities YES are endless!!!”
Zarilix shouts while standing proudly with the pack. “You there, dead dragon bird beast!” He points to the wyrm, then to what’s left of the yeti, “It’s all yours!”
Morrowblood(Mira)
A calm settles over Alterac Valley at the same time every year. Whether that calm is the result of Winter Veil and the new year, or merely the added snow from the season, it is there.
A bearded gnome has just crossed the bridge into Dun Baldar and the slow flap of wings echoes off the mountains, undoubtedly the griffon riders, a thought born out by the shadow he walks into. When that shadow does not continue on, he pauses and frowns, considers the angle of the sun and the surrounding architecture and slope of the mountain, the lack of foliage--
His calculations and considerations are cut short when something splatters onto his cowl. He reaches a hand up, brings wet green fingers to his face. He sniffs and his whole body shudders. There is not enough time for him to look up and see the massive lump of rotted flesh and fur before it lands on him.
Stitchings and flesh alike split open on impact and putrid flesh and green goo ooze out into the snow, the remnants of some failed experiment deposited like so much rubbish.
The slow flapping of wings retreats and from within the Dun Baldar fortress comes the sound of Dwarven voices singing carols, the inhabitants unaware--for the moment--of the gift left for them and the fate of the gnome beneath it.