Grim Views

The candles kept the stuffy office well lit in the late hour as Awatu read through a report on one of the Supplicants. Araun, The Messenger, sat across from the Tauren. Several pages of the report were laid out on the desk for the Sin'dorei to read, though he had not picked any of them up. Awatu slid a picture across the desk towards Araun, pinning it down at the edge of the desk. "This Supplicant has fallen to the wayside. She remains in the frozen North, affiliated with the Argents" he said, placing the rest of the papers on the desk.

Awatu slid a hand down his snout and snorted in agitation. As far as he could tell, this Supplicant had been waiting for someone to seek her out. Someone to bring her into the folds of The Grim. There was not enough information on this Supplicant to determine why she remained in Northrend, or even where she could be found on the continent. He looked over at Araun who was looking over the information and pictures that would be his only clues to finding this elf. "Seek her out, Messenger. Either she will join us or we will have nothing else to do with her. We have no room in our ranks for someone who does not join us where the battles are raging." At that, Awatu stood and made his way around the desk to the door, knocking the desk with his hooves. Before exiting the room, he turned back to Araun. "You may take matters into your own hands if she proves to be a delinquent."

Greebo moved out from the shadows, his lack of breathing and animal scent cloaking him in the stillness of death.
"Who is the ahhhh supplicant here, High Inquisitor? If The Araun is not back before it is needed I shall be displeased. There is no time to ahhhh waste."

Araun picked up the picture off Awatu's desk, turning it around and around in his fingers - looking at the face, and then at the name on the back, over and over. Ceresei Lerathien. The candles continued to burn brightly, but the shadows lengthened, and the corners of the room darkened. The light drew back, as if retreating to safety, each flame now only illuminating a tiny circle in the growing darkness of the office.

"So," Araun said, as if speaking to himself, "we need to find one lost soul among the many that wander in Northrend." He turned to look into the shadows - and something there seemed to squirm away from his gaze, slick coils trembling. "Friends," he said, slowly, giving the word a cruel edge before he continued, "let us go collect our wayward supplicant."

Araun grinned widely, and the shadows finally overwhelmed the candle-flames, plunging the room into pitch darkness. For a moment the only noise was the dry slithering of something moving in the corners, and then that too faded. After a moment of silence, candlelight suddenly flooded the room again - and The Messenger, along with the notes from Awatu's desk, was gone.

--

Ceresei was awoken by screaming.

Alarm bells rang throughout the Argent Crusade camp, and the night air filled with soldiers yelling and civilians shrieking in terror - and something else, a sibilant hissing, like sand pouring over silk.

And yet, inside her tent it seemed still, and quiet, and... bright. Someone had lit an oil lamp and left it on the table - someone who was seated in a chair only a few feet away, watching her. An elven man, in a dark robe with a deep hood; he noticed her waking, and said in a pleasant tone, "Good evening. Don't mind the noise outside, it's nothing the Argent Crusade cannot handle. Just a little shadow play to keep them entertained while we talk."

He leaned back in the chair as he continued to speak, "The Grim have come calling, Ceresei. You pledged yourself to the Mandate, but you have dawdled here instead. Why? What makes you any different from these crusaders now?"

Outside, there was a thundering crash as something heavy fell over, and a male voice shouted, "Over here, there's one over -" only to dissolve into a wet gurgle.

Araun's eyes did not stray from Ceresei, and his tone turned cold: "And why should you not share their fate, tonight?"

{ Note: Araun is not actually dangerous enough to take out an Argent Crusade camp on his own while sitting comfortably in a chair - he's mostly just spooked the cadets with some shadow fiends and apparitions, to create the appearance that something bigger is going on. In truth, he's only bought some time before the Crusade locks things down, and if he can't convince Ceresei to leave within that time, his plan falls apart. }

It had been an extra cold night in Icecrown when Ceresei had decided to finally sleep, her days had consisted of keeping watch, whether by air or marching around the far outskirts of the old tournament grounds for any undead that may have wandered up. It wasn't a glamorous life, not like it had been years ago. Hordes of undead, the capture of the ferocious animals and the Twin Val'kyrs who were used to test crusaders destined to go up against The Lich King in the final battle. She had been part of the assault on the Citadel, she had seen the body of Arthas Menethil, and learned of his replacement Bolvar Fordragon, though sworn to never speak of his sacrifice. It should have been over then, she could have gone home with the rest of her troope. Of course she had gone back to Orgrimmar eventually, it had been then when she met with Ryanica whom told her of the Grim. A place where she could fight with others like her, against the Alliance or any other threats the world could conjure up. Ceresei had agreed, on her own terms which her new 'Inquisitor' seemed to accept, but she never saw that troll again and her calling to return to the North soon out-strengthed her desire to stay and wait.

She sighed kicking off her armor and sat on a chair near the fire warming herself. That had been many months ago, Ceresei had resigned herself to living out her days here, despite the other dangers she heard rumor of. Her fears of the Scourge returning one day kept her from leaving, someone had to be afraid, think the worst could happen and someone had to be on the front line with enough experience to stop it. With these thoughts she drifted off to sleep...

Few hours laters screams enter Ceresei's sleeping mind, and then alarm bells. She opened her eyes slowly, a bright light of an oil lamp causing her to squint across from her at an elven man, Ceresei moved her hands to rest upon the hilt of her axe which was leaning against the chair.
'Who are you?' Her grip tightened slightly, but otherwise made no aggresive movements. The man seemed to ignore her. He mentioned the word Grim and Ceresei narrowed her eyes listening more keenly now to what he had to say.

"Dawdled? Excuse me? Dawdling would have been sitting in Orgrimmar waiting for months on end for your Troll inquisitor to finally show up. This is what I am," She gestured around. "Its where I feel I needed to be when it became apparent sitting in Orgrimmar was pointless. Its not like she gave me some other name to drop a line to if she were to mysteriously disappear." She folded her arms and gave a slight shrug. "You don't want to get messy? You want to salvage a failure of a colleague to better yourself? I don't know. If you're here to kill me, well I welcome it with open arms and hope you came prepared for a fight." She gave a slight smile at the end.

Araun quirked a smile at her defiant reply, and steepled his fingers as he listened to her answer.

"So," he said in a bemused tone, "you returned to this cold grave to wait for death or glory? Then I am pleased to say that moment has finally arrived."

The sibilant hissing grew louder briefly, seeming to pass around the tent just behind Ceresei's head before receding into the distance.

Araun waited a moment for the sound to fade, then continued, "I am Inquisitor Araun, and I bear a message: the Mandate calls all Grim to Pandaria. Join us, or no longer be Grim."

He stood up, and offered her a gloved hand, "A choice, then - you can come with me and fight in the name of the Mandate; or you can stay here, and grow colder, until the night takes you as easily as it has taken these Crusaders."

The camp grew silent, the alarms and screams fading - as if the world outside the tent had vanished, and there was nothing else but this moment and Araun's outstretched hand.

"Choose, Ceresei. Death or glory?"

Ceresei was struggling to not frown, her instinct was telling her to go outside and help the crusaders with whatever they were fighting. For whatever reason she had chosen to sit here and listen to elf and the screams outside. Ceresei lifted up her axe, laying it non-threateningly on her lap. It was just in case something came in to attack her...or if this elf was going to try and kill her. She wasn't entirely sure of his intentions, though she did not show any real discomfort, just the calm expression on her face.

"No, that's not why I came here. The scourge has been trying to kill me for years, they haven't succeeded, nor would they in the state they are in. I planned to keep them in this state of disarray." She said to his first question. "I come back here because...I thought..well its where..." She trailed off, not wanting to express what might be considered a weakness. She straightened after a moment not bothering to finish her sentence, she looked a bit more stoic. "Just..nevermind, you wouldn't understand...so tell me what this moment is exactly?"

She didn't like being messed around with, and whatever was hissing around her head was either real or some head game he was playing on her as he continued to speak about how he had come to recruit her again. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Well you are certainly taking a different approach with recruiting me than the troll did. I don't appreciate head games..."

The elf seemed unphased by her slightly angered response and continued on with his proposal. Nodding slowly, her lips forming into a frown as she spoke again. "Join us, or no longer be Grim, or is it...Join us or die?" She raised an eyebrow, feeling her more defiant personality rising within her, not giving Araun a chance to respond. "You know...I don't like being given an ultimatum and quite frankly I don't think I would 'die' so easily as the unsuspecting cadets did outside, fighting you...or whatever you brought with you outside." She paused and let out a breath, remembering that he was here to recruit her first, not kill. "But I wanted a place to fight along side other people of equal strength and for a real cause. I assume you didn't come all this way if you didn't think I still could fit in, So I accept."

She took his hand to shake it, and gave it a firm grip, leaning in Ceresei lowered her voice. "Don't threaten my life again please. I don't deal so well with that kind of intimidation." she released his hand and stood up gathering her things. "Where do we go from here then? And I do I have to clean up whatever mess you brought or can you do that?"

Araun folded his hands behind his back, waiting while she packed her gear. While she worked, he commented, "Do not think of it as a threat, think of it as a warning - a prophecy. Only a cold and unworthy grave awaits you in this land. I do not have to lift a finger to ensure that."

Once she had finished packing, Araun smiled and said pleasantly, "And as to where we go next, the answer is 'up'". Oddly, he pointed downwards as he said this, at the carpet beneath their feet.

... there wasn't supposed to be a carpet in this tent.

Araun snapped his fingers, and all hell broke loose - black claws tore through the tent all around them, grasping at the frame. Wood cracked and splintered under dozens of small taloned hands as they tore the tent apart and pulled it away, the shreds and fragments dragged into the darkness. There was nothing beyond the tent - just an endless void that hissed like blowing sand.

And then, like clouds parting, the shadows above them drew back, revealing Northrend's starry sky - and they could hear a crusader beyond the wall of shadow, calling out: "Ceresei! Are you in there?! Come on men, don't just stand there, clear those fiends out and -"

Araun raised a hand, and the carpet under them surged upwards - the furniture toppled in every direction, cast off as and they were carried quickly up into the air. Below, a group of crusaders clustered around the wall of shadow that had encircled Ceresei's tent, fighting against a squirming sea of tentacled shadow-fiends that seemed to be guarding it.

One of the crusaders looked up and shouted, "Ceresei!" - and maybe something else, but the words were lost as the carpet soared high into the sky. In seconds, the Argent Crusade camp was left behind.

"As you can see, the Crusade doesn't need your help." Araun said calmly, sitting down on the carpet before he continued, "The Horde does, however - and here's more than blizzards and zombies waiting for you in the land of the Sha."

Ceresei stood up and began to don her armor, It was a Blackened Cruader Armor, its model after Tirion Fordring when he had led the assault on the Icecrown Citadel. She put on all but the helmet., packed the rest of her belonings in a small backpack. He hadn't explained what her task was going to be yet, only that she were to go with him. She put her axe on her back and gave a nod that she was ready. "Up?" She gave a puzzled look, but waited, when the carpet beneath her began to move she quickly balanced herself as they flew high into the night sky. She frowned. "How long have you been watching me?" muttering the rest she just shook her head. "....Long enough to put a carpet in my room"

The cold had stopped bothering her years ago, this place had hardened her from the pathetic girl she had been once. Relaxing a bit, Ceresei followed Araun's lead and sat down on the carpet, gazing back to what had been her home as they traveled, she became quiet silently thanking her experiences in the North. The empty Citadel that housed the Lich King rose up out of the ice, Ceresei remebered the battles that had taken place there had helped give her a new purpose in life, now she was setting herself up to have a new purpose, she let out a sigh and turned back to Araun. "This had better be worth it. Northrend has forged the person you see before you. Its difficult to leave her behind."

As they traveled through the sky, Ceresei kept her gaze northward until the looming citadel was out of sight. Again she looked to Araun. "I have heard rumors of these pandarian monks that come from a strange island, a few crusaders have taken up the art back in Hearthglen. Tell me more about this land of Sha? What is a Sha?" Folding her hands in her lap she awaited his response.

(Apologies for the long response, was out of town this weekend.)

(( Hopefully I will have time to reply tomorrow - sorry, been busy. ))