Grim Views

The night had come. Kyou had found himself signed up to roll with the experienced members of the Grim for a night of purging some robotics! Peace through Annihilation slipped from the goblin's unseen lips every now and again as a breathy whisper, reminding him of the theme he could finally feel comfortable backing up. Every other theme he'd taken on had ended due to his unique personality. Either kicked out, or banished was always his prior fate. But here. Finally was something different! a group of people who didn't pussyfoot around the issues that could kill us all! He HAD to show them what he was capable of. His anticipation showed as he bounced off the walls of the tavern in Warspear awaiting the group's arrival. At first, they were reluctant to take such a fresh looking goblin into battle with them. Understandably so, as Kyou had no honors beyond basic skirmishes, a lot of them, but nothing past it. But, nonetheless be it sheer luck, or destiny, Kyou found himself leaving and traveling into the night with the others.

Battles were had, and victories were hard fought. Kyou showed his skills up front as a rogue, often placing himself just right to pin down the cowardly alliance machine's mender, or cripple the dastard attempting to overtake their territory. But upon the arrival of Deepwind Gorge at Khorvis' side, The Grim units saw what sort of magics were at work beyond the goblin's knowing.

Stepping into the battlefield elated the goblin, exciting Kyou with the opportunity to take from the alliance directly! As they charged, and Kyou took to the shadows to blindside his opponents his unique trait began to show. The levels of fel energy that emitted from the tiny rogue far exceeded what anyone could suspect to even show in a non-magic user. His body was at its limit as his path was blocked by a night elf. Stalking the buffoon, Kyou watched as the purple machine desperately grabbed the recently filled cart of Horde Gold and began charging off with it.

It was time.

Kyou's body burst from the shadows wrapped entirely in fel flames as he assaulted and paralyzed the death knight temporarily! Dropping a smoke bomb, not many could see what exactly happened, but not a soul went without hearing it... The voice of the goblin burst forth twisting and toning as even his language changed to demonic! "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! KILL KILL KILL! SHAZA-KIEL, ANACH KYREEI!!! A-RUL SHACH KIGONI!!!" the goblin screamed and bellowed as his cleavers took the night elf apart aggressively. Getting wind that their cart had been stolen by the herald, other contenders, including a few Grim returned to base to protect the haul. They came upon the freshly possessed image of Kyou, drenched in blood butchering a pile of meat that was one a bipedal conscious being. Kyou however, was miles away. Completely possessed by bloodlust and rage, he continued charging, throwing himself into he epicenter of alliance battling, slitting throat after throat, taking head after head! The goblin rogue took down target after target, screaming and howling as felfire blasted from his body! The very steps he took still burned with demonic energy, and only more blood was found covering the goblin as the most awkward of things began to happen.

Riddled with demonic energy, bathed in felfire, and screaming like a banshee, Kyou began of all things: singing. His voice was by far the worst ever heard, but considering the situation not many complained.

"Send your armies.
There's no man or machine
who can stop me,
and you'll soon see.
I come for vengeance
for the first Son of Light, and I'm ready, and I'm willing, and I'm prepared to...

SEND. ME. THE BEST YOU'VE GOT
SEND. ME. YOUR STRONGEST MACHINES!
THE FIGHT MY BROTHER FOUGHT,
HERE,
NOW,
WILL END WITH ME!"

The demon influenced goblin sang as his body would barely even fade into the shadows. Still nonetheless, the effectiveness of the transformation was noted. Kyoukimaru never faltered, never rested, never even returned to heal wounds. Each injury he took, though was not life threatening, managed to close up in combat! His regenerative abilities were outmatching a troll, and his skill at putting alliance scum down like the dogs they were, was enough to even catch the eyes of Khorvis. Though this new recruit was very evidently insane. His cleavers took only to alliance flesh, his rage only took to the "machines" he sought to end. Despite a fit of rage so unholy his body literally burst into demonic fire, as a ROGUE, Kyoukimaru's mind and heart strove only to murder the machines under gold and blue banner. Many letters were sent home to alliance families that day, and many children went without parents the morning after. The only description the alliance could manage to give of the murderer, A bloodsoaked butcher bathed in felfire.

Kyoukimaru was found the next morning after a night of bloodlust in his chambers. His next accommodations alerted his new family only temporarily. a heavy trail of blood littered the guild hall, giving off the scent of every alliance race one could recognize. And in Kyou's bunk lay the body of a draenei! It was dead, of course, and had been.... Re-purposed... This is where Kyou's skill in both skinning and leatherworking were also noticed.

The organs had been removed. The body turned to a strange type of leather from burning and drying, and yet the skeleton remained mostly intact. Kyou sat up, thusly "bursting" from the hidey-hole he'd made in the once "noble" draenei's chest. Scratching his head. The goblin climbed out of the chest cavity of what was his "favorite" victim. He'd made a gods be damned SLEEPING BAG out of the dastard! A horrified look lay frozen on the draenei's face, the eyes burned out and what looked like tears had burned their way down his face, leaving blackened trails emphasizing the horrors the creature had seen prior to its most likely agonizing and drawn out death. Kyou, however, was clean. The blood he'd been soaked in the night before had taken a liking to something more than his clothes. The cleavers that lay next to his bunk, they glowed blood red, and images of constant blood drip fell from them. The malicious intent had empowered his very weaponry, creating an epic look to his newly bloodforged blades.

Kyou spent that morning mostly in question as to when he actually passed out. He had little to no memory of what had actually happened. His transformation seemed like a split personality, however it was far too close to his normal mindset to truly justify the thought. But regardless of his "fit" and how it effected his performance for the better, Kyou found himself unsatisfied with his night of blood-soaked bardic-inspired demon-empowered rage and death. Though his new sleeping bag had him well rested in only a matter of a couple hours, he felt as though he'd barely fought the night before. He feared he had retreated, or drank too much, or worse yet burdened the ones he was TRYING to impress while ridding the world of these machines. He mopped up the guild hall to rid it of the stink of alliance blood and eagerly returned to his room, fetching his blades and gear. He was desperate to return to the front lines and rid the world of more alliance machines. He however stopped as he equipped his blades, speaking to himself as he noticed the increase in power he now held in his hands.

"Whoa... That's a new feeling." He said as he curiously looked at his cleavers...

It had become apparent much more than even the Grim around him witnessed must have suffered a terrible fate.

Khorvis watched from a shadowed balcony above the Great Hall as Kyoukimaru's mop soaked up the last of the spilt draenei blood on the stone slabs below. Even up that high in the cathedral rafters, the acrid scent of the liquid mingled with the ancient pitch of the pine beams. He nodded to himself, or perhaps an unseen presence, and turned back through double Thalassian oak doors into his study, closing them behind.

"This little munchkin is no small trifle for patience. He will bear more watching. One green pinky too far past the line of madness ..." The orc chuckled to himself and shook his head at the irony. The utility of the definition of madness was a questionable object within the ranks of The Grim. Invoking it so late in the war seemed a bittersweet indulgence.

Instead of rambling on to himself, Khorvis took up his seat behind the High Inquisitors' desk and began his correspondence with the quill and incarnadine ink of his custom.

Khorvis wrote:Supplicant Kyoukimaru,

Your bloodlust on the grounds of battle has sprouted tales and dark whispers in both tavern and barrack across Hotde territory. These deeds do credit to the Mandate, and you are to be commended. Blood for our blood, ash of foe in our firepit.

The fury of your blades does need tempering, I do think. Harden your resolve in the words and history of your new banner. Seek out the Grim who will aim those little cleavers like the butcher into the prime kodo.

Irredeemable Anaie the Insane: A sister of the cleaver, though recently adherent to paws more bestial. Find in her a kindred flame.

Reaper Wrooth: She may be the other side of your coin. Cool your heels in her icy calm and slow yourself to view the long draught of Grim history.

Reaper Akorharil: This felmancer may wish to test your more fiery tendencies. He is a master of summoning - tread lightly and watch your tongue.

Report back to the Hall of Inquisition when you have learned the meaning of the Mandate from these three comrades. Your remains will be interred within the refuse heap behind the eastern salvage dump if you do fail me.

Khorvis Bloodstar
High Inquisitor