Grim Views

It was late in the night when Qarosimae made it back to her sanctum. The cave system in the cliffs surrounding Orgrimmar had been Inzema's discovery, and after they had cleared out the drug dealers and Twilight cultists from the caves, it had been easily converted into a new home. After all entrances had been sealed, the only easy way in now was by teleportation. Qarosimae still wasn't sure how Inzema made it in and out, but it wasn't by her entryway.

The entryway was a simple stone room with an arcane circle carved into the floor. The only light in the room came from far down the hallway that was the only way out of the room, firelight from the living quarters. When Qarosimae teleported in, she appeared in a flash of red light, wrapped in layers of grey and black cloth stitched with the intricate patterns of protective spells. Felfire green eyes lit the room before half a dozen candle sized flames sprung to life in a circle around her, casting conflicting shadows about the small room. She began walking down the hallway, the flames floating with her, the only sound her muffled breathing from behind her facemask and the shuffling of her footsteps. As she got closer to the living quarters, she could pick out the sound of the fire and the sound of someone else shuffling about inside. Her eye began glowing a brighter green behind her wire framed glasses. Her hands began dripping sparks that faded a short distance from the ground as she clenched and unclenched them.

The living quarters were sparsely decorated. Bookcases lined the walls, filled to the brim with books of all sizes and colors. A fireplace set in the far wall was lit, several comfortable looking chairs and footstools arranged around it, a black wood table set off to the left. In one of the chairs sat Inzema, his goggles hanging from his neck along with his mask, still wearing his black leather armor. The undead was kicking his feet back and forth like a bored child while he tinkered with a device of some sort, an array of tools and parts strewn across his lap and the footstool in front of him. Qarosimae visibly relaxed when she saw him, the fires dying out around her, leaving the fireplace the only source of light in the room. Inzema glanced up from his work and grinned.

"Hey, Q." Qarosimae muttered something incomprehensible in response, crossing the room to one of the unoccupied chairs. She removed her gloves, draping them over her left arm, threw back her hood, and unwound the cloth comprising her facemask. She set the bundle of cloth on the back of the chair, her cloak quick to follow. "Bryii talked to me today." Qarosimae again responded to Inzema's comment with unintelligibility, her belt joining the growing pile of equipment and clothing. "Asked me a whole bunch of questions." Qarosimae nodded, eyes shifting from the armrest of the chair to Inzema's contraption. "What was she asking?" "Why I helped you." "What did you say?" "Didn't." Qarosimae nodded, not surprised at all. she fingered the hole in her cloak that had been caused by a Kal'dorei hunter earlier that day. It would need to be mended.

The battle had been long. The hunter had lain in wait for her, his pet bird flying high overhead. Qarosimae had been distracted, watching the battle between a warrior and a priest a good distance away. She was holding the Gilnean mines by herself. The arrow came without warning, stricking right when her mana shields lapsed. Only luck and the spells inlaid into the cloak prevented it from finding her leg instead of the ground through the cloak. Her defenses back up, Qarosimae sighted on the hunter and set his innards aflame before blinking within his archery range. The bird struck, distracting Q long enough for the hunter to leap backwards, firing a volley of arrows. The most critical were deflected by her shields, the rest glanced from her wards or left shallow cuts on her arms. She breathed arcane fire on the bird, blinding it, and charged after the hunter, blasting him with bolts of fire. She sensed the trap he had placed for her too late and was rewarded with a gout of flame that was deflected by her secondary wards. The hunter called out a warcry as she closed the distance and leaped again, increasing the distance between him and her. Qarosimae launched an immense blast of fire at him in time with his right arm bursting to flame from the slowly ticking bomb inside of him. He deflected the blast and launched an arrow. Qaro blasted the arrow out of the air and was hit from behind by the bird. A blast of frost bound it to the ground as she blinked away from it towards the hunter again. Time slowed down as she tapped deeper into the arcane. The hunter's movements slowed. The bomb inside him primed. Qaro caused the ground beneath him to burst into flames in time with his innards exploding outwards. The hunter crumpled with a cry of pain. His bird, its master lost, returned to the skies.

Inzema had said something and was looking to Qarosimae for a response. She muttered a monosyllabic response, having not heard the question. Her tabard came off, blood stains both hers and others only adding to the darkness of the tabard. She stripped out of her robe, blood stains also mostly hidden by the dark cloth, spatters here and there, leaving her in a long sleeved, loose fitting red tunic stitched with more warding spells, matching pants, and grey boots. She noted a large blood stain on the left shoulder of her robe that stopped abruptly on her chest. she found a stain that was the continuation on her tabard. It had been the blood of an orc warlock she had been near facing a draenei warrior. The orc's head had sailed on past her's by inches. The warrior's blade was closer than the orc's head. The warrior fell quickly thereafter, but the image of the orc's expression, enraged and confused, as his disembodied head flew past was conjured to mind by the stain.

She stripped her rings from her fingers and placed them on the table, removed her necklaces, to include the one that held her hearthstone, and the earrings that held her trinkets and laid them beside them. She looked at her fingers, still slightly twisted from when they had been broken. Thinking of when they had been broken reminded her of her right eye, and she touched the scar as she had begun to habitually do. It still hurt from time to time, even after so long and so many healing spells attempting to cure it.

"I said how's inquisiting?" Qarosimae shrugged, stripping out of her pants and tunic and sending them to join the pile of clothing atop the chair. She kicked off her boots and socks. A loose silk purple shirt with short sleeves and tight black shorts were all that remained, and neither of which had any wards evident in the stitching. "I have a feeling it will be a relatively thankless job. I met with Utina. She was Eclypse's minion before she stepped down. You probably know more about her than I do, having likely broken into Thalevia's office to take a peek at her paperwork." "Thal has it pretty well locked down. I haven't been able to get past the wards." Qarosimae smirked. "Impressive." "I know." Qaro rubbed her arm. While most of her injuries had all been healed without scars, there were still many that hadn't been tended to. She had become less worried about scars since her eye. Her first years of adventuring she had been vain, paying extra coin to prevent any scars from ever marring her body. Now she didn't mind. An eye was much more obvious than anything else, and nothing else really mattered then.

Inzema stood, his tools and parts gone from whence they had came. He grinned and indicated to one of the side halls leaving the room. "Your little minion prepped a bath for you. I laced it with some healing additives. No side effects, promise. I've got work to do." He patted Qarosimae on the shoulder and disappeared, fading like a shadow. Qarosimae could no longer see or sense his presence. She set her glasses down on the table, picked a book from the nearest bookshelf, and headed down the hall Inzema indicated. She walked past her gruntling's room. The orcling, Berk, had been working for her since the Tournament. He was always smiling. He had replaced his Argent Crusade tabard with that of the Grim. The orc showed some arcane talent. He liked to mix play with his wooden sword with flinging small bursts of frost. A future hero of the Horde.

Qarosimae stepped into the bathroom, bare feet making no sound on the stone. The tub was a depression in the stone and filled with reddish soapy water. Qaro left her remaining clothing and book at the edge, taking note of the black robe folded and waiting by the edge, and sunk into the rejuvinating bath. She closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep. Tomorrow would be another day. More to be accomplished. More to kill.

Qarosimae set down her wineglass, the fragile crystal interlaced with silver. She dipped a finger into a bowl filled with luminescent white powder, flecks of solid arcane energy, and placed the finger in her mouth. The electric feeling of energy coursing through her tongue to her body was her addiction, though she would never admit it, even to herself. She indulged rarely, usually in her library after Berk had gone to sleep. Lit only by a few candles, surrounded by papers and books, this was where she felt most comfortable. She rubbed her right wrist, residual pain from the mended bone causing her to wince.

There had been three of them, a rogue, a warrior, and a mage. They rode away from the haunted docks of Tol Barad, the rogue severely wounded already. It was too much fun to pass by. Qarosimae lept from her skeletal warhorse, launching a blast of frost in time with Sioss, her elemental companion, appearing and freezing the Alliance steeds in place. Blades of ice blasted away at the rogue, but he slipped into shadows before he died. The warrior charged with a battle cry, free from his encasement of ice, only to be frozen in place again by a cone of ice shards projected from Qarosimae's outstretched hands. She silenced the mage's spellcasting and started to run from the warrior when the rogue struck from behind. He wrapped a wire around her throat and while her wards prevented her from being decapitated, it stopped her from being able to speak properly. She slashed desperately with her dagger as she pulled the garrote from her neck. Sioss froze the warrior again right as he broke free, leaving him once again bound out of reach. Qarosimae worked the garrote free and teleported, leaving behind a trio of mirror images to fool the warrior. She tapped into the arcane, slowing time, and finished the rogue, driving a dozen lances of ice into his body all at once and fixing his body to the ground like an insect in a book. The warrior broke free and cut down two of the mirror images in one sweep of his axe. The mage blasted the third, then directed missiles of arcane energy at Qarosimae. Wards deflected most of the damage, but were left depleted, leaving an opening for the warrior to score a glancing blow with his axe. Qarosimae felt her wrist break, her dagger dropped to the ground from numb fingers. She conjured a lance of ice that through sheer luck caught the warrior through the throat, piercing him where his armor did not protect him. He went down gurgling, breath drowned by blood. The mage watched his downed compatriot with a stricken expression before launching another barrage of force at Qarosimae. The attack left her senseless, nearly dead beside the corpse of the warrior. Sioss fled back to the elemental plane, and convinced she was dead, the mage gathered the bodies of his compatriots to find a healer.

Qarosimae woke with a start, coughing, at the Spirit Healer's mending, the ghostly form of the Tauren visible only barely after her return from the brink of death. Her body whole again, she summoned her steed and rode back to the Hellscream's Reach encampment to rest before returning to Orgrimmar.

Qarosimae's mind returned to the present and the book in front of her. Notes from her encounters with various people scrawled in coded Thalassian filled the sheets of white parchment, seared into the pages by her finger. She looked at her notes for Squark, taking a mental note that the Goblin had potential, despite being utterly annoying. It bore further investigation. She looked at her logbook, contained within the names of all the minions and supplicants of the Grim. Half of the information was missing. A task she was still working on, slowly but surely.

She took a drink from her wineglass again, finishing the ruby liquid contained within, and stood. Her books left behind, some open, others closed, but still in neat stacks and groups, she walked to the kitchen. She left the wineglass on the table as she passed through, back into the main hallway, where she entered her room. Her bed lacked decoration, and other than a candlestick on a nightstand and a wardrobe, was the only piece of furniture in the room. She opened the wardrobe, drawing forth her battle attire. Grey cloth with red and blue geometric patterns bordered by white runes stitched impossibly small formed the layers of her defense. Layers of spellwoven cloth, leaving nothing but her eyes visible. Next, her belt, containing her charms, bags, dagger, and spellbook. She threw her cloak on as she walked to the portal room, fastening it with a silver pin, a circle encompassing a hand, an eye, and a star. Body, mind and spirit.

Qarosimae stepped onto the smooth stones of the portal room. She gestured, activating the spells woven into the very core of her home, and disappeared in a flash of light, leaving her books to go face the Alliance once more.