Grim Views

An emaciated figure grunted in frustration in the dim light. He looked around at what had been his home for the past... five, maybe six, days. His eyes fell on the familiar pathetic fire that just barely staved off the cold air from outside. On the far wall opposite of him were the words "Peace Through Annihilation" scrawled in charcoal. He slumped, his movement causing the chains binding him to jingle and scratch against the rock. A small glow emanated from the chains and the prisoner found his energy sapped once more. He had long figured out the runic enchantments on the bindings but had no energy or means to tamper with them. Another frustrated groan escaped his decaying lips, dry from lack of moisture and the chilled wind blowing over his body. He let his weight fall upon the chains in an attempt to rest but the dull throbbing pain from the knobby stumps that were once his arms kept him somewhat conscious.

Knithawk screamed, but all that came out was a wheezing cough.

Every so often, a Tauren would enter the cave with dry firewood. He would feed the fire and then leave, sparing no glance towards the captive Forsaken. Knithawk's screams, curses, pleas, and rasps fell on the deaf ears of the Tauren he could not recognize. He stopped trying to communicate, instead brooding over how he had ended up in this position. Once he was shoved through the portal he felt himself gripped, blinded, and gagged before everything went dark. He awoke some time later, chained to this miserable wall in this miserable cave in this miserable mountain. He assumed he was somewhere along the edges of Mulgore, or perhaps even in Stonetalon. The Commander had likely posted someone near the exit portal to wait for him and drag him to this prison.

He sighed once more, but a sound caught his ears. Hooves stomping up the path outside. He turned his head to look, expecting the Tauren with the firewood to appear once more. However, it was not who was expecting. With steady steps, Awatu came into view around the entrance to the cave. Underneath one arm he held a chest and he kept his eyes on Knithawk as he neared the fire. Knithawk narrowed his eyes at Awatu, but his mouth remained shut as the Tauren dropped the chest to the ground. A slight tingling in the back of Knithawk's skull drew his eyes to the chest as Awatu turned to face him. Awatu regarded the Forsaken with curiosity, studying his actions as the chains activated once more and sapped more energy from the Mage.

"Comfortable?" Awatu asked, causing Knithawk to look at him in exasperated fury. The only noise the Forsaken made was a growl that sounded more like a dying frog. Awatu snorted in mild amusement. "What have you learned?" he asked, turning to look at the writing on the wall behind him. Knithawk scowled for a moment before answering "That you're a cu-" he was cut off by a large hammer slamming into his abdomen, the sound of several bones snapping and shattering following the strike. Awatu regarded the Mage with slight disappointment as he removed the hammer and let Knithawk writhe and choke in pain. "I expected a better insult than that." he snorted. "Disappointment..." he muttered before turning back to the fire.

Minutes passed as Knithawk recovered from the sudden strike, shooting angry glares at Awatu. More time passed before Awatu spoke again. "Why do I keep you alive?" The question caught Knithawk off guard. It was possibly rhetorical, so he felt no compulsion to answer though the question stayed in his mind. Knithawk kept his eyes on Awatu as he turned to speak. "You are expendable. Very much so. Many called for your head on a pike, which would have been easy to do. But, there is something more valuable in these... events. A lesson." Awatu said as he reached into a pouch and withdrew a small green finger. Knithawk would recognize one of those grubby little things anywhere and simply gawked at it. "The two of you have caused me more issues than a fatling General." Awatu said, tossing the digit into the fire. "You both deserve death, but that would be too merciful as well as a hindrance to The Grim. No, The Grim must gain something out of this and you must suffer." Awatu looked down at Knithawk with hard eyes. Knithawk looked elsewhere in the cave, his mind racing at what would happen to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Knithawk caught sight of something that was unusual. A face, just beyond his vision. In the brief second he focused on it and blinked, it was mere feet away when he next saw it. He recoiled in shock, a hollow scream choking out of his throat. Awatu chuckled at the display. "The Shadowblade has been watching you for some time." he said, watching the Forsaken shudder. Calming himself, Knithawk focused back on Syreena, who was leveling a fierce glare at him.

"She will ensure you are... redeemed." Awatu said, speaking the final word with a grimace of distaste. "Until she sees fit, you follow her every word." As he spoke, he turned back to the chest and opened the lock. Inside were two ruddy arms in only slightly worse shape than when they were last seen. Awatu then turned to leave, looking back at the mouth of the cave briefly. "Make sure he gets cleaned up. He needs to be useful if he is to survive."

Syreena nodded respectfully as Awatu's words drifted back to her. Then, after a glance out of the cave to make sure the Commander was gone, the little rogue turned back to Knithawk with a wicked grin. Silent steps took her to the mage, a dagger in each hand, poison gleaming on the blades in the firelight. She kicked swiftly at his knee, forcing him to kneel so she could lean in towards his face.

"Before we get started, there's something you should know," Syreena whispered softly into his ear. She toyed with her daggers, tracing the tips over Knithawk's neck and throat. The movements seemed casual, but they were skilled enough to slice shallow cuts in the skin and place the poison in such a way as to cause maximum pain with minimal real damage. "I don't have a problem with killing Grim if they deserve it. If you run away, or try to escape me, or in any way make my job difficult, you will die, painfully. We hunted you down once, we can do it again.

"You are being given a chance for redemption," said the Shadowblade, her voice raising to a normal volume as she took a step back from the mage. "I don't know why you weren't just slaughtered for your weakness, but the Commander has given me orders to make sure you're suitable to be a Grim again, so that's what I intend to do. If you want to be Grim, you'll cooperate. If you don't, you'll die."

Syreena signalled for the guardsman, and when the Tauren entered the cave, she requested he remove Knithawk's chains. She watched the mage carefully as he was released.

"If you want to be Grim again, you have to prove yourself to me, and I don't plan to make that easy for you. I think you're weak," the rogue hissed. "You killed another Grim, because he wronged you, but you hid behind the excuse of losing your mind to some god, and you were dumb enough to get caught."

Syreena stared at the mage for a moment, as if daring him to try something.

"First things first. The Commander wants you cleaned up and useful," she said with a glance at the chest holding a pair of arms. "I don't know how to fix this, but I know someone who does. I've arranged for them to fix your arms, or provide new ones if they can't fix these. And they'll clean you up and make you more comfortable. Of course, they won't do it for free. There's always a price."

Syreena paused for a moment, a barely restrained look of excitement on her face, as she put away her daggers and nudged the chest closed with her foot. She picked it up, watching Knithawk the entire time.

"They've agreed to take that price in the form of a lab rat. They'll experiment on anyone and anything, even their own kind. Now, can you open a portal to Undercity, or will I need to chain you to my mount?" the rogue asked, with a sweet smile. "We're going to see the RAS."