Grim Views

((This isnt so much a storyline as it is an invitation to share where your character currently lives and/or has been up to in the expansion. But if we happen to mingle along the way, all the better!!))


The late night streets of Dalaran were quiet. A peculiar dark shadow moved its way along the bottoms of the buildings. It slithered and weaved along the sidewalk. It flowed smoothly, it slid right through the passing body of a guard who shivered and looked warily. The shadow moved purposefully up to a certain doorway and disappeared.


The shadow moved silently through the townhouse, up the wide spiral staircase, stopping at the first door at the top of the stairs.. A metal chain was strung across the door, with a large fel iron lock securing it to the frame. A finely carved sign hung in the middle reading "Keep Out!" The shadow paused, hovering lower and lower. It flattened out and slid through the crack at the bottom of the door. The darkness gradually coalesced into long thin hands, the fingertips of which appeared to be wrapped in tattered bloody bandages. The hand felt around on the top of a cluttered table and picked up a small box of matches, it lit one off of the rough velvet wallpaper and began to carefully light a candelabra mounted next to the door.


As more of the candles were lit the shadow seemed to recede, it revealed long thin arms, short tousled black hair and the face of a young blood elf. Mordria shook her head, and ran her hands roughly through her hair in an attempt to straighten it as she looked around. Her room was large, and filthy. It looked as though no one had bothered to clean it in months. There were piles of clothes, empty food cartons, along with other unidentifiable bits of trash. A once beautiful engraved ivory table lay covered in dust, gems haphazardly scattered its surface with the small chisels and sanding paper for jewel crafting running off the edges and onto the floor. The room smelled of dirty socks and the sweet stench of rot. Mordria took a small stack of frost weave from underneath her arm and tossed it in the general direction of the bed. She grabbed a small sack off the floor as she walked by and swung it back and forth . She approached a large square object in the corner of the room. It was covered in a large black cloth. She walked over and grabbed a corner of the sheet, with a few tugs it rippled down onto the floor.


The Geist sat crouched in the back corner of its enclosure. It appeared swollen, almost chubby. It crouch walked to the front of its cage,. sticking one clawed hand through the bars. An almost friendly mewling sound came from its sharp toothed maw.


Mordria walked over to the cage. She crouched down, leaned forward and reached into the sack, pulling out a large swollen maggot. She held it out gently until it was almost in reach of the geists hand. Its claws flexed, its arm jerking out and waving frantically, its meows becoming deep and guttural.


"Now do it like I taught you...Easy....Take it eeeasy."


The Geist's forward motion stuttered, slowing the speed of its hand. It reached out and gently plucked the maggot with one long black claw. It drew its hand back through the bars and brought the fat wriggling insect to its mouth. It bit down, spilling ichor down its chin and onto the floor of the cage. It squinted its oozing eyes at the priest and began to eat. Its needle sharp teeth flashing in the candlelight.


Mordria leaned back on her heels and clapped her hands in amusement. The creature shrank back raising its hands protectively above its head. "See, that was good! What a good boy you are!" She reached out her hand intending to pet the creature. It hissed and shot its face forward, snapping its jaws together inches from her outstretched finger. She narrowed her eyes. "Now what did I say about biting the hand...that maggot came all the way from the Black temple" She casually flexed her fingers, wrinkling the bandages that adorned her fingertips. They were bruised and cracked, a result of her constant gnawing. Nonetheless they immediately sprouted small balls of violet shadow. With another small flex they rose, melding and thinning until it was nothing more than a glowing line extending from her hand, she sent it forward with a whisper, it went easily between the bars of the cage approaching the forehead of the Geist just as he was swallowing the last bits of his dinner. It happened to glance up. Its tiny eyes widened in shock and horror as it noticed the shadow stream. It flung itself to its knees, groveling and mewing. Its razor like talons now outstretched beseechingly through the side of the cage. It moved its bald scaly head closer to the edge.


Mordria smiled, she let the shadow drift and fade away. She reached her hand out once more and laid it on top of the creatures head. She gently scratched it behind its small human-like ears as she praised it.


"See, you aren't dumb, I knew you could be taught, all it takes is a little...persuasion."

.

The cold wind howled outside the tavern, spearing through the watery glass and frost-warped wood of the window. He shoved another loose piece of frostweave into several of the larger spaces and trimmed the wick on the lantern. He was hunched over a desk in a room in the Filthy Animal, against the outside wall of Dalaran. A steady stream of wing beats could be heard in the interstitial pauses in the raucous party going on downstairs. Freeze-distilled liquor, fresh air and warm fires brought life to sullen and vicious killers who had spent their time in Shattrath draped over couches. He drew more loose leaf notes into the small puddle of light cast by the lantern and began to review them again, trying to puzzle out the exacting sequence of motions and reagents and chants required to crystallize these powerful northern concepts into energies useful to him and others. The familiar sounds of raucous laughter and whistling wind, the smell of fish stew, the school-boy memorization cast his mind back a dozen or so years, he began to dream a waking dream of a young man, no, a boy, a few months away from home, scared and delighted at the demon words he was learning. He began to look forward to the Festival of Ice in March, when the days grew longer and the whole village, the whole town went skating up the Fjord, the bravest right to the very edge of the ice pack where the Orca hunted all year long. He began to think fondly of his father's spiced apple-jack, of his mother's carefully horded honey-wheat cakes, smeared with hot honeycream. "I should write ..."

His eyes hardened.

They had not been home when the Grim swept through Valgarde. He had hoped to bring them a special gift, as befitted their new relationship but the opportunity had been missed. A younger sister he had not known he had was all he could find in the long low house running back from the store. Stirring the stew to a rhyme his mother had sung. Seasoning the stew with her seared flesh and scoured skull.

Another day he would return, when he had a bit more time to himself - but for now there was still much to learn, much to refine.

Mordria hummed to herself as she walked through the marketplace in Dalaran. The sun was shining and the breeze could almost be considered warm. She stopped at one cheerful, brightly lit shop and bought several small pouches of assorted pet food. She wasn't quite sure what snakes or cockroaches ate besides each other, but the gnome behind the counter assured her in its strange stuttering orcish that they would probably eat something that was sold in the store. So she chose a little bit of everything and had the creature ring up her purchases. She tucked the pouches into her belt and began the short walk home.

As soon as she entered it was obvious something was different. A strong scent of piney cleanser stood in the air, and the ceramic floor of the entryway almost sparkled in the sunshine. Even as she stood there with an eyebrow raised and a look of confusion stuck to her face, several humans descended the large staircase in the hall. They were wearing the characteristic white smocks of hired servants and chattered back and forth to each other as they approached. One of the pair glanced up and saw the Elf in the doorway, she stopped laughing and nudged her companion. They exchanged a glance and then looked at the Priestess, that look was enough to send Mordria bolting from the doorway and up the stairs.

She took them almost three at a time, her feet barely even touching the floor as a result of stress-induced levitation. The humans flattened themselves against the wall of the large staircase. As she passed them they were forced to cover their ears, a loud and desperate buzzing seemed to fill their heads as the Elf rushed by. A wave of dizziness and despair seemed to hang in her wake and even the scented candles on the landing extinguished themselves.

As she reached the top of the staircase she let out an annoyed yelp. The door at the top of the stairs -Her Room- stood wide open, the chain she used for privacy was lying on the floor in the doorway and cut in several places. She arranged her face into her best look of murderous rage and stomped into the room.

It looked almost as it had before. Only it was perfectly neat, cleaned and arranged. And her ever growing collection of Northrend oddities and mutations was completely gone. All that remained of them was the series of cages along the far wall near her bed. Only now the cages had been emptied, scrubbed clean and smelled of lemons. In fact the only pets she could see was her bear cub, and even he seemed to sparkle with his freshly scrubbed fur. And in the middle of this horrible cleanness stood her sister. Perfectly coiffed and dressed in a pair of leather pants and silk shirt. She stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed looking at Mordria. The dead Troll was even here, looking awake and aware, sitting on her bed in a grey robe rubbing the little bears stomach. The troll didn't bother to glance up at all, her attentions fixed entirely on the cub.

Mordria was so angry that her fists shook, sending bits of bandage fluttering to the floor. "What the fuck is going on in here?! Who said you could come in here! Where is my stuff!? This is my personal are-"

"Shut up." The words did not come out loudly. But they were words of command and coming from the paladins lips they were not a request but an order. Mordria did not so much shut up as let her words degrade into a growl as she fell silent.

Sorchea uncrossed her arms and motioned around the room. "Let me ask you a question little sister. Do you like our home here? Is it not comfortable and well-appointed?"

Mordria brought a hand to her mouth and began to nip at the bandages. She glared at the paladin. "Duh, of course I do." She mumbled.

"Then tell me why exactly you are trying to get us all thrown out and possibly arrested? Are you aware that the neighbors could smell rotting flesh? That we were saved from a search only because they chose to come to me first thinking perhaps Karnya had some hygiene issues?" The Troll on the bed let out an amused grunt at this but remained silent. "And most importantly of all, What were you thinking bringing a scourge creature in here?" She recrossed her arms and stared at the priestess.


((To be continued...))