In a corner of the universe hypothetically outside of time, there exists a room. The walls are relatively rough and featureless stone with blue veins of pulsing energy running through them from one side to the other. The room itself was haphazardly filled with tables full of engineering devices and alchemical sets, piles of loot from various places, and random trophies. Inzema sat in this room beside the metal plate that served as the primary entrance and exit and hummed to himself, preparing spools of wires with hooks interspersed at semi-regular intervals and laying them in a semi-organized pile. He checked the box that was the device he used to make his actions unnoticed, a combination of a Multi-wave Scream-reducer and a See-me-not field generator. Inzema's devices weren't as creatively named as their Gnomish or Goblin counterparts, but they got the job done just as well, possibly better due to the lack of explosive or humorous malfunctions...most of the time.. The device, which Inzema called the "Fun-Zone Projector" did just that, it projected a field that prevented sound from escaping, dampened most smells by overriding them with the scent of ozone, and while it did not provide true invisibility, it made it so that anyone who happened to look in the direction of the field simply looked past and did not really recall the in between. That had been something that Inzema had created with the help of his Immensely Knowledgeable Artificial Intelligence, or Ikai, which had been a fluke of engineering in and of itself, but that's another story. After checking the FZ Projector, Inzema started a basic functions check of his gear. Parachute cloak, check. Hyperstatic Time-warp gloves, check. Multitools, check. Mega-launch belt rockets, check. Spacetime anomaly wormhole generator, check. Wrist-mounted rocket launchers, check. Emergency tissue regenerators, check. Potions of speed, strength, healing, weightlessness, water-breathing, water-walking, and reflexes all went into pockets of Inzema's Smart Pocket Dimensional Storage Pockets, stowed in a small section of space that didn't actually exist save through a small wormhole in Inzema's pockets that all led to the same place. Dozens of hand grenades and miniature demolitions charges went into the pockets as well. Knives, most balanced for throwing and barbed to make it harder to pull them out and all coated with poisons for any occasion, went into sheaths on bandoliers hanging crossed on his chest over his blood-stained tabard and into his belt, into sheaths on his legs, shoulders, arms, in his boots, and in his bracers. A sap was attached to the belt, along with a pistol. The connection points that allowed Inzema to draw out a length of wire to serve as a garrote without his hands were tested and found in good working order. Two larger knives, one heavy, one lighter, finished the weaponry, both with jagged blades made for tearing flesh and inflicting the most gruesome injuries, were placed in sheaths on his belt.
Inzema stood and stretched, his goggles whirred and clicked. The device appeared simple from the outside, merely a pair of lenses fixed in metal frames and held in place by a leather strap, but the complex machinery was so small that it was able to contain a ridiculous amount of capabilities in a device so small. Vision across a variety of frequencies, magnifications, and spectrums, to include Inzema's favorite, which penetrated metal, cloth, leather and spell wards with ease while leaving flesh unaffected. Inzema used it when he was feeling voyeuristic, which was a lot. Communications not only with his base of operations and Ikai, but with a wide band of radio frequencies as well. Targeting, analysis, route projection, aim correction in cases of high winds or other environmental factors, tracking. In short, the works. It made some thing so much easier. While they weren't actually fixed to his head, Inzema never removed them. Taking them off was like going blind, the amount of information they provided.
Inzema glanced towards the ceiling and grinned. A woman's voice, slightly artificial sounding, chimed from nowhere and everywhere at once, belonging to Ikai. "Looking spiffy today, dear," it said, generating a wide grin from Inzema, showing off his smile full of teeth filed to points and stained with blood. A smile a shark would be jealous of. "Thanks, honey. Keep an eye on Cehsneog while I'm out. I got work to do today." "Of course, dear. No unauthorized ordnance triggering today." "That's my girl." "Teleporter is prepared. Stormwind, today, dear?" "Yup! I'mma send a message to that Nika chika. Hey, that rhymes!" Inzema and the disembodied voice chuckled for a moment. Inzema waved a goodbye and stepped onto the teleportation pad. "See you tonight, honey!" "Knock them dead, dear," responded Ikai as Inzema disappeared in a flash of blue.
-~-~-
Waiting was the hard part of any secret job. Inzema hated waiting like he hated squirrels, the sneaky bastards. Their beady little eyes, their chittering little mouths...those teeth! The only thing worse than a squirrel was a bunny. Those buggers were dangerous! Plotting. Nobody took him seriously when he talked about it, so Inzema tended not to, but he waged his private war against the rodents when he had opportunity. But back to waiting, Inzema was waiting for Nikaa to leave her room. It hadn't been that hard to find out where she lived with Inzema's access to SI:7 files, the hard part was waiting for her to wake up so he could plant his little gift for her. Inzema looked at the chronometer displayed in his display on his goggles and sighed. He looked back at Nikaa and fidgeted in the shadows. Finally, after an eternity and a half of waiting, she left her room/apartment/cell thingy, off on some business or another. Inzema almost missed her leaving because he hand been digging through his pockets for a severed hand to snack on. He grinned and slipped through the shadows, teleporting into her room before the door shut in its entirety. Once inside and sure that Nikaa wasn't coming back, Inzema got to work.
From his pockets he produced a large piece of paper, several bottles, and pair of severed tits. Inzema opened the tops of the bottles and set them in a neat row on the floor and nailed the paper flat on the floor with knives. He took a bite from one of the breasts and dipped a finger into one of the bottles. He dragged his finger across the paper, leaving a trail of dark red across it. Minutes later, the finger paining was finished and the two breasts had disappeared into Inzema's stomach. He stood to back away from his work and admire it. The finger painting was a crude depiction of Nikaa in the throes of passion with a humanoid shadow with a wide and shark-like grin. Inzema had even paid enough attention to detail to include a depiction of a butterfly on her shoulder, though he couldn't quite remember which shoulder it had been on, so he put it on the right. While it wasn't a masterful work of art, the message was clear enough. Inzema cackled and activated his wormhole generator, targeting the roof of the inn in the Trade district that he couldn't remember the name of. He disappeared through the wormhole, leaving behind the knives, painting, and paints.
-~-~-
Marcus Jaxon was having a good day. He had caught several thieves today, there hadn't been a Slasher killing in a week, and Sarah had brought home an extra-large bag of tips from the Auction House the other day. Some rogue had been so grateful after his purchase of over a hundred Elementium ingots that he had given here more than the customary five percent, which still would have been a large sum. It was a good day.
Then Marcus noticed the scent of ozone.
That, by itself, wouldn't have interested Marcus at all, save for the location. He was at the bridge towards the Cathedral Square, and generally the smell of Ozone was more prevalent in the Trade District or the Dwarven District, where people were semi-regularly discharging electricity into the air from mechanical devices. Cathedral Square was more often frequented by priests and paladins, and while there were plenty of tinkerers among those ranks, they typically kept their tinkering to the aforementioned districts, leaving Cathedral Square for worship of the Light. Marcus crossed the bridge, frowning as the smell intensified. It was only when he was across the ridge that he noticed the smell beginning to fade, so he turned back to the bridge and looked at it. Inspiration struck and he looked beneath it. Nothing seemed out of sort, save the onset of a bit of a headache and the way his eyes seemed to avoid the stones. Marcus looked at the water, noticing the way the canal had a faint pink tint to it beneath the bridge. Marcus drew his rifle and stared at the stones until his eyes stopped crossing and resolved into what was actually there.
Suspended from the underside of the bridge was a man wrapped in black leather, swaying back and forth as he did a sort of dance, cinching wires down here and there. Two others were beneath the bridge, as well, a man and a woman, both nude, and held in place by wires as if the woman had mounted the man and they were engaged in the climax of sex. Blood dripped from wounds caused by the wires and places where flesh had been chewed from their calves and arms. The man in black pulled on a wire, adjusting the woman's arm by a fraction. Marcus took his shot.
The bullet missed by a fraction of an inch, passing through the cloth of the man's hood, who turned his head to face Jaxon. Green glowed from the darkness of his hood where his eyes should be, and a mask on his face with a wide smile carved into it hid his features, but Marcus knew he was smiling. He loaded another shot into the chamber and aimed again. The man grabbed a box from the underside of the bridge and tucked it into his cloak, the disorienting effect on Marcus' vision fading as he did. Marcus fired again, but the man swung out of the way of the bullet with a cackle. "I'm not done yet! Come back in ten!" he called out with a Lordaeron accent before severing the wires holding him in place and dropping into the water. Marcus took another shot before losing sight of him. Marcus cursed and pulled out his radio. "Medical response to Trade Cathedral bridge. Two severe injuries. It's the Slasher. They're still alive, but get here fast! Suspect is in the canals heading west. Keep on alert. Black hood, cloak, armor, metal mask with a smile. Green glowing eyes."
It's all fun and games.
Re: It's all fun and games.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
((Originally posted by Nikaa on the TNG thread.))
Nika had been extremely busy these past several weeks. Every since The Grim had attacked Stormwind and taken off with Spymaster Crutch and the valuable schematics, she had been completely immersed in tracking down the group of Horde, and bringing them in. Her primary targets were Leyujin, Inzema and Hokuto. As to why she had singled out those three specifically was something she didn't really talk about. But she had her reasons.
More recently however, Inzema had climbed to the top of her list. This was no longer just about the protection of Stormwind. This was personal. Leyujin tended to keep mostly to himself. Beyond the fights against the Alliance in Tol Barad and the battlefields, he didn't seem to often stray from Orgimmar. And Hokuto was quite elusive. The female blood elf was seen even less frequently than the Troll. But Inzema.. he was another matter.
The rogue was a menace. Even more so recently, since she had issued the bounty on the three of them. First it had been the mention in the Violet Eye that Inzema had been seen within Stormwind, boldly attacking people in the Blue Recluse. And then there had been the group of Horde who had come to Stormwind a few nights ago, looking for a fight. Hokuto had been among their numbers, and Nika knew Inzema was there as well. Several members of Praetorian Guard as well as some from other guilds had gathered to fight off the Horde forces. The battle was waged within the Old Barracks and down into Stormwind Harbor before the Horde finally left. But as the group of Alliance began to disperse, Nika stayed behind. She knew Inzema was there, and called out to him in challenge several times. As expected, he made his presence known. Mostly toying with her.. snickering from the shadows, darting in and out momentarily to strike at her before withdrawing again, before she could ever fully focus on her attacker. And eventually, he left. Or so she thought..
It was a short time later when his voice carried to her, from somewhere nearby. At first she thought he was hiding in the shadows again, and she turned in a quick circle, looking for the source of his voice.
"Oi, A quesstion for you. Whadda ya know 'bout the Ssslashhher?" He whispered.
Nika narrowed her eyes, instantly moving for the shadows. "Where are you," She hissed.
" Blue Reclussse. There'sss a bug on your cloak."
"What do you want, Inzema? What about the Slasher?" Her voice was cold.
"Nownow, no need to be grumpy. Well, you don't gotta ssstop. you're cute that way. Jussst curiousss what you know. Which do you want more, him or me?"
"You." Nika growled under her breath. Reaching down, she felt along the hem of her cloak and found the bug he had placed on her. Pulling it free, she glared down at it in her hand. But she was listening.
"Ah, drat, I wasss hoping you might like to buy sssome info about the man what'sss been terrorizing your delisssiousss sssity."
"We got a lot of people terrorizing our city. But you're at the top of the list."
"Aww. It'sss commentsss like that that make me wanna jussst paralyze you and ssscrew you and leave you living. Makin' me blushhh."
Nika glanced around and then started moving again, heading for the Mage Quarter. "Keep getting cocky, Inzema. Don't assume I'm not keeping tabs on you. And like I said, I already have some people tracking you down."
"Your people won't find me. I'm a ghossst." He cackled, sounding highly amused by the conversation.
"Oh yes we will.. but go ahead, keep your guard down. I see you plenty."
"Do you, now? I really doubt that."
"Good. Keep doubting. It'll make it that much better when we drag you in." Where was Janaelle? She tugged her radio free from her belt and whispered into it, alerting the Paladin of what was going on.
"You could more easssily drag me in if you were on a bed and assskin' for it. Bleedersss can't match a deader."
"You didn't show yourself before. Guess next time I'll have to look for you outside YOUR tavern.. I was there last night. You weren't."
"Really? It'sss a date, then! I'll buy the firssst round."
Nika reached the base of the Mage tower and eyed the doorway of the Blue Recluse. She doubted he was inside. More likely, he was hidden somewhere close. Watching her. "You're a funny guy, rotter." Her voice was flat.
"Funny, but ssseksssy, too!"
"Hardly. You're a bit on the scrawny, boney side."
"Boney enough to make you ssscream all night long and then sssome. It'sss not very sssecret that I'm ssstill functional like that."
"Those goggles you wear all the time don't flatter you, either.." She gritted her teeth silently at his taunts. It was obvious he was baiting her- trying to get into her head.
"No, but they flatter you! I sssaw right through your armor. You're cute, by the by. Kinda 'girl nekssst door.'"
Scowling, Nika moved away from the ramp leading up to the tower, and moved for the shadows again. "I think this conversation is just about to end.."
"Isss it now?"
She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Any last words before I crush this mic of yours? Or do you want to save it for when Praetorian guard have you?"
"I'm bored. I'mma go play with Titsss. Have a good night, and remember: I know where you sssleep." Inzema cackled, and then the device in her hand went silent.
Nika had intended to crush the bug, like she told him. But at the last minute, she had reconsidered. For now, it was the only direct means of communication between the two of them. Still, she wasn't about to carry it with her. For now, she had buried it safely in the woods, among one of her other stashes. She'd retrieve it when she was ready to try and contact him again.
Another night went by.. and then two. There had been no further sign of Inzema in Stormwind, as far as she knew. She made a trip to Orgimmar the night before, hoping to track him down in the Wyvern's Tail. But her search had come up empty.
Since she had been away on assignment, she hadn't been seen around Stormwind except only fleetingly, from time to time. She certainly wasn't staying there. Normally she camped out in the woods. But since her encounter with Inzema earlier in the week, she decided it would be best to play it safe and stay in her 'apartment'.
The 'apartment' was actually a holding cell located in SI:7, where she worked. Nika had a very strong superstition against living in a house. It made it too easy for someone to find her, or break in and ambush her. For that reason, she had spent the past several years living by more transient means. She usually rotated between several campsites within Elywnn Forest, or had even been known to shack up in an abandoned house or barn if the weather was bad. But since she had taken on her position at SI:7, a moment of inspiration had caused her to commandeer one of the empty cells to sleep in. After all, it was the safest place she could possibly be, right?
The blood that made up the painting left behind by Inzema had long since dried. She was standing outside her cell, one hand gripping the bar so tightly that her knuckles were white, and staring in at the desecration that had been left behind in her Sanctuary. The one place in the world where she felt 100% safe. She didn't enter the room. She could see what he had done just fine from where she was at. And even though she didn't want to admit it.. she was shaken.
Scarcely blinking, Nika pulled out her radio and thumbed the button. "Janaelle? I need you and Trigin to come to SI:7 as soon as you can. One of the agents will direct you to where I'm at. There's something you need to see.. And I need you to understand what we're dealing with, here.."
She released the radio and drew in a breath, then called out to her boyfriend and Partner who she knew was nearby, in the building.
"Micael!"
Wow.. he wasn't going to like this..
Nika had been extremely busy these past several weeks. Every since The Grim had attacked Stormwind and taken off with Spymaster Crutch and the valuable schematics, she had been completely immersed in tracking down the group of Horde, and bringing them in. Her primary targets were Leyujin, Inzema and Hokuto. As to why she had singled out those three specifically was something she didn't really talk about. But she had her reasons.
More recently however, Inzema had climbed to the top of her list. This was no longer just about the protection of Stormwind. This was personal. Leyujin tended to keep mostly to himself. Beyond the fights against the Alliance in Tol Barad and the battlefields, he didn't seem to often stray from Orgimmar. And Hokuto was quite elusive. The female blood elf was seen even less frequently than the Troll. But Inzema.. he was another matter.
The rogue was a menace. Even more so recently, since she had issued the bounty on the three of them. First it had been the mention in the Violet Eye that Inzema had been seen within Stormwind, boldly attacking people in the Blue Recluse. And then there had been the group of Horde who had come to Stormwind a few nights ago, looking for a fight. Hokuto had been among their numbers, and Nika knew Inzema was there as well. Several members of Praetorian Guard as well as some from other guilds had gathered to fight off the Horde forces. The battle was waged within the Old Barracks and down into Stormwind Harbor before the Horde finally left. But as the group of Alliance began to disperse, Nika stayed behind. She knew Inzema was there, and called out to him in challenge several times. As expected, he made his presence known. Mostly toying with her.. snickering from the shadows, darting in and out momentarily to strike at her before withdrawing again, before she could ever fully focus on her attacker. And eventually, he left. Or so she thought..
It was a short time later when his voice carried to her, from somewhere nearby. At first she thought he was hiding in the shadows again, and she turned in a quick circle, looking for the source of his voice.
"Oi, A quesstion for you. Whadda ya know 'bout the Ssslashhher?" He whispered.
Nika narrowed her eyes, instantly moving for the shadows. "Where are you," She hissed.
" Blue Reclussse. There'sss a bug on your cloak."
"What do you want, Inzema? What about the Slasher?" Her voice was cold.
"Nownow, no need to be grumpy. Well, you don't gotta ssstop. you're cute that way. Jussst curiousss what you know. Which do you want more, him or me?"
"You." Nika growled under her breath. Reaching down, she felt along the hem of her cloak and found the bug he had placed on her. Pulling it free, she glared down at it in her hand. But she was listening.
"Ah, drat, I wasss hoping you might like to buy sssome info about the man what'sss been terrorizing your delisssiousss sssity."
"We got a lot of people terrorizing our city. But you're at the top of the list."
"Aww. It'sss commentsss like that that make me wanna jussst paralyze you and ssscrew you and leave you living. Makin' me blushhh."
Nika glanced around and then started moving again, heading for the Mage Quarter. "Keep getting cocky, Inzema. Don't assume I'm not keeping tabs on you. And like I said, I already have some people tracking you down."
"Your people won't find me. I'm a ghossst." He cackled, sounding highly amused by the conversation.
"Oh yes we will.. but go ahead, keep your guard down. I see you plenty."
"Do you, now? I really doubt that."
"Good. Keep doubting. It'll make it that much better when we drag you in." Where was Janaelle? She tugged her radio free from her belt and whispered into it, alerting the Paladin of what was going on.
"You could more easssily drag me in if you were on a bed and assskin' for it. Bleedersss can't match a deader."
"You didn't show yourself before. Guess next time I'll have to look for you outside YOUR tavern.. I was there last night. You weren't."
"Really? It'sss a date, then! I'll buy the firssst round."
Nika reached the base of the Mage tower and eyed the doorway of the Blue Recluse. She doubted he was inside. More likely, he was hidden somewhere close. Watching her. "You're a funny guy, rotter." Her voice was flat.
"Funny, but ssseksssy, too!"
"Hardly. You're a bit on the scrawny, boney side."
"Boney enough to make you ssscream all night long and then sssome. It'sss not very sssecret that I'm ssstill functional like that."
"Those goggles you wear all the time don't flatter you, either.." She gritted her teeth silently at his taunts. It was obvious he was baiting her- trying to get into her head.
"No, but they flatter you! I sssaw right through your armor. You're cute, by the by. Kinda 'girl nekssst door.'"
Scowling, Nika moved away from the ramp leading up to the tower, and moved for the shadows again. "I think this conversation is just about to end.."
"Isss it now?"
She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Any last words before I crush this mic of yours? Or do you want to save it for when Praetorian guard have you?"
"I'm bored. I'mma go play with Titsss. Have a good night, and remember: I know where you sssleep." Inzema cackled, and then the device in her hand went silent.
Nika had intended to crush the bug, like she told him. But at the last minute, she had reconsidered. For now, it was the only direct means of communication between the two of them. Still, she wasn't about to carry it with her. For now, she had buried it safely in the woods, among one of her other stashes. She'd retrieve it when she was ready to try and contact him again.
Another night went by.. and then two. There had been no further sign of Inzema in Stormwind, as far as she knew. She made a trip to Orgimmar the night before, hoping to track him down in the Wyvern's Tail. But her search had come up empty.
Since she had been away on assignment, she hadn't been seen around Stormwind except only fleetingly, from time to time. She certainly wasn't staying there. Normally she camped out in the woods. But since her encounter with Inzema earlier in the week, she decided it would be best to play it safe and stay in her 'apartment'.
The 'apartment' was actually a holding cell located in SI:7, where she worked. Nika had a very strong superstition against living in a house. It made it too easy for someone to find her, or break in and ambush her. For that reason, she had spent the past several years living by more transient means. She usually rotated between several campsites within Elywnn Forest, or had even been known to shack up in an abandoned house or barn if the weather was bad. But since she had taken on her position at SI:7, a moment of inspiration had caused her to commandeer one of the empty cells to sleep in. After all, it was the safest place she could possibly be, right?
The blood that made up the painting left behind by Inzema had long since dried. She was standing outside her cell, one hand gripping the bar so tightly that her knuckles were white, and staring in at the desecration that had been left behind in her Sanctuary. The one place in the world where she felt 100% safe. She didn't enter the room. She could see what he had done just fine from where she was at. And even though she didn't want to admit it.. she was shaken.
Scarcely blinking, Nika pulled out her radio and thumbed the button. "Janaelle? I need you and Trigin to come to SI:7 as soon as you can. One of the agents will direct you to where I'm at. There's something you need to see.. And I need you to understand what we're dealing with, here.."
She released the radio and drew in a breath, then called out to her boyfriend and Partner who she knew was nearby, in the building.
"Micael!"
Wow.. he wasn't going to like this..
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
((Originally posted by Janaelle on TNG))
Janaelle Angelline opened her eyes at the crackle of her radio, staring at the ceiling while Nikaa's message filled the small home she shared with Trigin. "Janaelle? I need you and Trigin to come to SI:7 as soon as you can. One of the agents will direct you to where I'm at. There's something you need to see.. And I need you to understand what we're dealing with, here.."
The paladin sighed, rolling over to snatch the radio from its place on the beside table. "I'm on my way," she said simply before rolling out of the bed and glancing around the room. Trigin was no where to be seen; probably out in the fields or checking into Nikaa's bounties; the rogue would have to settle for her alone. Many years of taking her plate armor on and off had made her adept at doning the heavy metal without assitance and she was ready to leave within a few minutes. She had no idea what Nikaa needed her to see, or why she'd need it so early in the morning, but Janaelle didn't question it.
As she exited her home, she nodded once to her Twilight Drake, Tharis, who prefered to spend the mornings curled up on top of the stables. Her gold and blue armor gleamed in the sunlight as she made her way to the teleporter Trigin had set up next to the house. Tharis immediatly took to the sky, circling once before flying towards Stormwind; he'd wait there for her in case she needed him. The paladin murmured a quiet prayer before activating the teleporter which would drop her in the Mages Tower in Stormwind - sometimes the device had unwanted side effects. Once on the otherside, she quickly checked her features and estimated her height before sighing in relief. All seemed normal this time.
Knowing Tharis couldn't have gotten to the city that fast, Janaelle summoned her spectral charger to speed her way across the city to SI:7. An agent waited out front, nodding his head in greating before leading the paladin down to the cells below the building. Nikaa Davies stood inside of a cell with beautifully tailored curtains hanging on the inside of the bars, soft rugs lay across the floor, almost leaving the red-head feeling as though she'd entered a sunlight grove. Almost - the bloody painting pinned to the floor with knives swept away all illusion Nikaa hd been able to caputure in the small room.
The rogue was clearly edgey and a little pale as she turned and nodded as Janaelle entered. Her expression strained, she gestured towards the painting, "This is what we're dealing with, here..."
It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at. At first she'd thought it was just a splatter of blood, and she couldn't understand why Nikaa would have called her all the way here just to see that. Then the splatter took shape and the true meaning of the painting hit her. The room swam as the pieces came together - Inzema had been here. The man Nikaa thought was the Stormwind Slasher had been in her room and apparently wanted to coppulate with the brunette; violently if the papers were to be believed. The bastard had invaded the woman's personal space to leave a taunting message in~ Light, who's blood WAS that? Nausia turned her stomach as some of the color drained from her face. The Grim were sick; if the Guard ended up killing them all to stop them, she would no longer feel any remorse.
Tearing her eyes from the scene, she took another, closer, look at the rogue. Moving to her side, she gently rests her hand on the woman's shoulder, not offering more in case the touch wasn't wanted.
"We'll find him," she promised. "Trigin will find him."
Janaelle Angelline opened her eyes at the crackle of her radio, staring at the ceiling while Nikaa's message filled the small home she shared with Trigin. "Janaelle? I need you and Trigin to come to SI:7 as soon as you can. One of the agents will direct you to where I'm at. There's something you need to see.. And I need you to understand what we're dealing with, here.."
The paladin sighed, rolling over to snatch the radio from its place on the beside table. "I'm on my way," she said simply before rolling out of the bed and glancing around the room. Trigin was no where to be seen; probably out in the fields or checking into Nikaa's bounties; the rogue would have to settle for her alone. Many years of taking her plate armor on and off had made her adept at doning the heavy metal without assitance and she was ready to leave within a few minutes. She had no idea what Nikaa needed her to see, or why she'd need it so early in the morning, but Janaelle didn't question it.
As she exited her home, she nodded once to her Twilight Drake, Tharis, who prefered to spend the mornings curled up on top of the stables. Her gold and blue armor gleamed in the sunlight as she made her way to the teleporter Trigin had set up next to the house. Tharis immediatly took to the sky, circling once before flying towards Stormwind; he'd wait there for her in case she needed him. The paladin murmured a quiet prayer before activating the teleporter which would drop her in the Mages Tower in Stormwind - sometimes the device had unwanted side effects. Once on the otherside, she quickly checked her features and estimated her height before sighing in relief. All seemed normal this time.
Knowing Tharis couldn't have gotten to the city that fast, Janaelle summoned her spectral charger to speed her way across the city to SI:7. An agent waited out front, nodding his head in greating before leading the paladin down to the cells below the building. Nikaa Davies stood inside of a cell with beautifully tailored curtains hanging on the inside of the bars, soft rugs lay across the floor, almost leaving the red-head feeling as though she'd entered a sunlight grove. Almost - the bloody painting pinned to the floor with knives swept away all illusion Nikaa hd been able to caputure in the small room.
The rogue was clearly edgey and a little pale as she turned and nodded as Janaelle entered. Her expression strained, she gestured towards the painting, "This is what we're dealing with, here..."
It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at. At first she'd thought it was just a splatter of blood, and she couldn't understand why Nikaa would have called her all the way here just to see that. Then the splatter took shape and the true meaning of the painting hit her. The room swam as the pieces came together - Inzema had been here. The man Nikaa thought was the Stormwind Slasher had been in her room and apparently wanted to coppulate with the brunette; violently if the papers were to be believed. The bastard had invaded the woman's personal space to leave a taunting message in~ Light, who's blood WAS that? Nausia turned her stomach as some of the color drained from her face. The Grim were sick; if the Guard ended up killing them all to stop them, she would no longer feel any remorse.
Tearing her eyes from the scene, she took another, closer, look at the rogue. Moving to her side, she gently rests her hand on the woman's shoulder, not offering more in case the touch wasn't wanted.
"We'll find him," she promised. "Trigin will find him."
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
((Originally posted by Micael on TNG))
Micael sprinted down the hallway, literally skidding to come to his girlfriends rescue. As he ran, he prayed it wasn't something stupid, like a bug, that he needed to kill. The minute he saw the pictures though, he was intensely enraged. He knew security was pretty dim sometimes, but this? This was absolutely pathetic. Jogging over to Nika, he covered her eyes, and mentally made a note to put a personal hit out on Inzema... How did he even know what Nika looked like naked? Well one thing was for sure. Not just anyone would be allowed to waltz into SI:7 after this... Behind him sprinted Porter, huffing and puffing. There was a pause as Micael turned her away from it. Porter took a deep breath before covering it with a blanket before the crime scene team could take it over. Micael looked up, and the old eyes met the younger ones.
Porter was scared for the first time in many years.
Micael looked different. He looked flat out enraged, his face stiff. Porter knew what Goerin was thinking. Someone is going to pay for putting fear in Nika. And as Micael looked at Jannaelle, he quietly whispered: "I want Influenza dead. That, or I'll divert his attention from Nika."
Micael sprinted down the hallway, literally skidding to come to his girlfriends rescue. As he ran, he prayed it wasn't something stupid, like a bug, that he needed to kill. The minute he saw the pictures though, he was intensely enraged. He knew security was pretty dim sometimes, but this? This was absolutely pathetic. Jogging over to Nika, he covered her eyes, and mentally made a note to put a personal hit out on Inzema... How did he even know what Nika looked like naked? Well one thing was for sure. Not just anyone would be allowed to waltz into SI:7 after this... Behind him sprinted Porter, huffing and puffing. There was a pause as Micael turned her away from it. Porter took a deep breath before covering it with a blanket before the crime scene team could take it over. Micael looked up, and the old eyes met the younger ones.
Porter was scared for the first time in many years.
Micael looked different. He looked flat out enraged, his face stiff. Porter knew what Goerin was thinking. Someone is going to pay for putting fear in Nika. And as Micael looked at Jannaelle, he quietly whispered: "I want Influenza dead. That, or I'll divert his attention from Nika."
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
Erik Astav walked into the SI:7 headquarters, humming the tune to an old Lordaeranian song. If anyone knew that his cadence was slightly off, nobody showed it. He smiled at Jasper Fel, a completely unseen action as his face was shrouded with cloth and shadows, and handed him an envelope. "You got what I asked for?" Erik said, deciding against the customary hiss due to noticing Nikaa sitting at her desk. Wouldn't do good to force her to link him with, well, himself. He smiled wider and accepted a package. He ambled to a desk near Nikaa and sat down, making a show of opening the package and looking at the folders contained therein. He could practically feel her curiosity.
"Haven't I seen you, before?" Hook, like, and sucker. Erik glanced up, tilted his head to one side, and nodded.
"Yeah, prolly. I'm Astav. You're Davies, right?"
Nikaa nodded, seeming to know that Erik knew who she was. "What are you looking at?" she asked, moving the papers on her desk slightly to the side so that she could lean forward without disturbing her papers. Erik held up the folder, largely labelled "Stormwind Slasher" with "Eyes Only" printed beneath.
"I swear they're trying to hang me with this one. He's more elusive than an elf without a god complex." Erik chuckled and set the folder down. "What're you working on?" Nikaa held up her folder, labeled "Inzema." Erik tilted his head to the side and whistled. "Nevermind me, then. Yeesh." Nikaa shrugged and set the folder down.
"I've heard about the Slasher. I think he might be related to my case." Erik smirked. She was finally catching on.
"That so? Why, what's the description of this Inzema guy?"
"Average height, black leather, engineer's goggles with glowing green lenses. Green mohawk"
"That describes a whole lot of people, ya know. If you add a hood and mask to that, it matches half the rogues and cutthroats in Stormwind." Nikaa shrugged, knowing full well how vague the description was. Erik shrugged and looked down at his file. "My guy has a similar description. Average height, hood, mask, glowing green where the eyes come from..."
"Think it could be engineer's goggles?" Nikaa asked.
Erik shrugged and said "Can't say. Coulda been a blood elf. Glowing green eye types like mine can be a result of any number of things."
Nikaa hmm'd to herself and looked down at her files. "I'll have to do some more probing. I have plenty of leads, at least. By the way... I saw you over in Mage the other night, asking some people about me. What'd you need?"
Erik blinked, the twin glows of green disappearing momentarily. "Ah, ya saw that, didya? Didn't see ya. Sneaky one, you is. I found a note in my hood when I woke up that morning. Had a smiley face and it said to find you."
Nikaa frowned. "Let me guess. It was written in red.." Erik nodded. She looked back towards the stairs that lead down to what used to be her apartment. "He's been in here."
Erik looked about nervously, hand gripping the hilt of his dagger. "In here?!"
Nikaa sighed, nodding. "Yeah... he came into my apartment. Left a message." She ran a hand back through her hair, and regarded Erik. "Why you, though? Why'd he leave a note for you, that.."
Erik blinked. "You think he's got it out for the Slasher?" Nikaa shook her head. "Out for the Slasher? No.."
Erik smacked his forehead. "Oh, derp. You think he IS the Slasher! But why would he try and get himself caught?"
Nikaa nodded. "But more important.. why would Inzema leave you a note to look for me? We didn't even know each other.."
Erik shrugged and leaned back in his chair, drumming fingers against his head. ""Never underestimate madmen. They don't care about the puzzle, only the cake." My dad wasn't some sage, but I liked that one."
"Hm." Nikaa leaned back, moving the pen to balance between her knuckle and fingers, and lightly tapped the ends against the desk, as she sat thinking.
"Maybe he's trying to get us together to kill us at the same time?" Erik suggested. He suddenly leaned forward, as if something had just dawned on him. "OH GODS!" he exclaimed before pausing and scratching at where his nose would be beneath his mask. "Wait...that doesn't sound like a Slasher thing to do," he said in a calmer voice. "All my investigations have led me to believe he collects his victims from around the city and usually solitarily."
Nikaa twitched an eyebrow upward as she considered that. She blinked at his reaction and then laughed. "I don't know... he has had multiple victims at one scene before, though.. did you see the part in the file about the map of the sewers?"
Erik nodded and tapped his folder. "I was the first on the scene on that one. It was on my way home. I will give him this, he works very hard to do what he does."
"Has anyone checked the sewers yet?"
"Been down there a bit after they cleared the corpses. Didn't see what I didn't expect. Sewer rats and a couple of drug dealers."
"Hm.. I'm surprised," she said. She pointed the pencil at Erik. "Then again, him leaving a map makes me think he wanted people to go down there.. there may be something you overlooked, though. Did you check for any hidden rooms or entrances, or just do a general sweep?"
Erik shrugged apathetically. "General sweep. I'm not the type to go digging about for a psycho serial killer's lair by myself. The guard squad that went down after me didn't find anything, and Jaxon didn't care to work that night. I think he was more worried about home. Reported that the Slasher knew where he lived and was there once."
Nikaa was quiet for awhile.. thinking. Her eyes moved to Inzema's file and she flipped the corners of the papers through her fingers, recalling all the 'when's and where's' of seeing him. "I'm going to check it out sometime." She finally said. "Not alone, obviously."
Erik nodded. "Obviously..." Erik closed his files and rolled his shoulders, popping the joints. After a pause, he said "Is this Inzema guy a cannibal?
Nikaa blinked. "Yes..." She looked up at him. "He is..."
"Does he ever..." Erik trailed off, obviously uncomfortable asking. "You know..." Erik poked one finger into a hoop made by his other index finger and thumb.
Nikaa stared at him. "I don't know!" She grimaced. "I don't see how. He's Forsaken."
"Hah, that was what I was thinking. Slasher, he takes bites out of some of the victims, or at least I assume so. Jaxon said his latest victims..." He paused to check his notes. "Laura Hill and Paul Benson...had been partially eaten. That one...was a work of art, let me tell you." Erik's tone was partially disgust and awe as he continued. "He suspended them underneath the bridge between the Trade district and the Cathedral Square like they were having sex. Underneath! If Jaxon hadn't found them, they might've been dead hours before anyone would have known."
"If you say so.." Nikaa said. She shuddered, having seen the snapshots of the crime scene. "It's disgusting.. the thing is, some of these things seem to match up with Inzema, and some don't."
Erik nodded thoughtfully. "I wonder if there will enough left of the two's minds to testify."
Nikaa scratched her head. "Are they in protective custody?"
"Well yeah."
Nikaa says: "I haven't gotten too deep into that part of the case file. I had just started, when you got here. Wasn't even sure if they were still alive, or ended up dying from their injuries.."
"They're physically stable, but mentally?" Erik shrugged as he trailed off to show his uncertainty.
Nikaa sighed. "I wonder if I'd be given access to them. I'd like to know what they saw.. or heard. Did they provide a written statement, yet?"
Erik shook his head in the negative. "No statements yet. We had a priest dip into the mind of the girl because of evidence of rape. I don't think the priest will fully recover from that, and I think the girl's gone, mentally. The guy hasn't woken up yet, but I'm sure, well...I hope that we'll get a statement when he does. I'm sure you can get access to them if you want."
Nikaa widened her eyes at him. "People can do that?"
"What, dip into minds?"
"Yeah" she said as she nodded.
Erik nodded, drumming his fingers on the file in front of him. "With the proper training. Priests of the Shadow are hard to come by, but they're typically really good with the mind."
Nikaa made a face and shook her head, looking disturbed. "Not a fan of that magic stuff."
Erik shrugged. "Bloody useful, if you ask me. My armor's enchanted. Kept me alive from a few stray bullets."
Nikaa sighed and nodded, obviously still uncomfortable. "It can be.. but anyway, maybe I'll look into seeing the male victim.. or at least getting the statement when he's up. Who was the priest? He might be able to tell me what I need to know, from what he saw in the girls mind."
Erik flipped the page of the file and ran his finger down the page before stopping. "She was one..."Dawnblossom Shadowsheart." Night elf. I think there might have been some sort of backlash or something. She was speaking Gutterspeak for an hour after the dip, and won't talk about what she saw. Well...Fuck it, maybe you will have better luck asking her than I."
Nikaa furrowed a brow. "Great... dead end there, I guess.. Anyway, don't worry. I'm not gonna get too mixed up in your case, or interfere with it. I just want to see if there's a connection with mine. Plus, the more I know about Inzema, the better chance we have of catching him."
Erik grinned behind his mask and nodded. "Yup! More killers we rid the Horde of, the more we can focus on killing them!"
Nikaa nodded, glancing towards her list. "Dawnblossom Shadowsheart." She added to the page of notes on the Slasher.
Erikastav yawned and muttered to himself. "Fuck me with a tauren's fist...I'm tired."
Nikaa blinked and smirked. "That's a new one..and a terrible visual, thanks for that."
Erik laughed. "Oh, here's one for ya. What's the difference between a kodo's dick and a Tauren's fist?"
"Oh gods..." Nikaa said. Curiosity overcame. "What?"
Erik grinned widely, the amusement concealed behind his mask. "I am far more likely to catch the latter upside my head in combat, and the former's been in your mother's nethers." He chuckled and shook his head. "Heard that one from a drunken high elf at the Recluse, once."
Nikaa slapped her palm over her forehead. "Ugh! Enough!" She waved a file at him, shaking her head. "Go sleep, or something! And watch out for psychopaths leaving notes.."
Erik nodded and stood. "I'll take a psycho leaving notes to a psycho leaving paintings with my blood any day of the week," he said as he approached Nikaa's desk. He paused, looking down at the file, where he saw the logo for The Grim. "Say...what's that?" He pointed at the sigil.
"Oh, this?" She moved the papers aside, pulling out the one with the Grim crest on it. "That's their guild symbol.. The Grim.."
"Huh..."
"Why do you ask?"
Erik pulled a drawing from the Slasher folder and placed it down beside the Grim sigil. A rough sketch of a skull above two daggers. He oriented it so they faced the same direction. "Look kinda the same, don't they?"
"Hmm.." Nikaa turned the paper to face her and studied it. "Did he leave this, too?"
"No. That's something Jaxon noted beneath the Slasher's cloak as he swam away cackling."
"What do you mean, beneath his cloak?" Nikaa said, excitement bleeding through. "Where was it? Like a tattoo?"
"Nonono. No exposed skin. On his back, maybe like a tabard."
Nikaa huffed a sigh. "I'm almost positive it's him. I'll find out."
"How will you do that?" he said, crossing his arms. "Unless you're going to disguise yourself as a blood elf or something...but you don't really have the frame for it..."
Nikaa smiled faintly. "I watch him. Plenty. Now I just have to compare notes."
Erik blinked. That was a genuine surprise. "You watch him? You got bigger balls than I do."
"Haven't I seen you, before?" Hook, like, and sucker. Erik glanced up, tilted his head to one side, and nodded.
"Yeah, prolly. I'm Astav. You're Davies, right?"
Nikaa nodded, seeming to know that Erik knew who she was. "What are you looking at?" she asked, moving the papers on her desk slightly to the side so that she could lean forward without disturbing her papers. Erik held up the folder, largely labelled "Stormwind Slasher" with "Eyes Only" printed beneath.
"I swear they're trying to hang me with this one. He's more elusive than an elf without a god complex." Erik chuckled and set the folder down. "What're you working on?" Nikaa held up her folder, labeled "Inzema." Erik tilted his head to the side and whistled. "Nevermind me, then. Yeesh." Nikaa shrugged and set the folder down.
"I've heard about the Slasher. I think he might be related to my case." Erik smirked. She was finally catching on.
"That so? Why, what's the description of this Inzema guy?"
"Average height, black leather, engineer's goggles with glowing green lenses. Green mohawk"
"That describes a whole lot of people, ya know. If you add a hood and mask to that, it matches half the rogues and cutthroats in Stormwind." Nikaa shrugged, knowing full well how vague the description was. Erik shrugged and looked down at his file. "My guy has a similar description. Average height, hood, mask, glowing green where the eyes come from..."
"Think it could be engineer's goggles?" Nikaa asked.
Erik shrugged and said "Can't say. Coulda been a blood elf. Glowing green eye types like mine can be a result of any number of things."
Nikaa hmm'd to herself and looked down at her files. "I'll have to do some more probing. I have plenty of leads, at least. By the way... I saw you over in Mage the other night, asking some people about me. What'd you need?"
Erik blinked, the twin glows of green disappearing momentarily. "Ah, ya saw that, didya? Didn't see ya. Sneaky one, you is. I found a note in my hood when I woke up that morning. Had a smiley face and it said to find you."
Nikaa frowned. "Let me guess. It was written in red.." Erik nodded. She looked back towards the stairs that lead down to what used to be her apartment. "He's been in here."
Erik looked about nervously, hand gripping the hilt of his dagger. "In here?!"
Nikaa sighed, nodding. "Yeah... he came into my apartment. Left a message." She ran a hand back through her hair, and regarded Erik. "Why you, though? Why'd he leave a note for you, that.."
Erik blinked. "You think he's got it out for the Slasher?" Nikaa shook her head. "Out for the Slasher? No.."
Erik smacked his forehead. "Oh, derp. You think he IS the Slasher! But why would he try and get himself caught?"
Nikaa nodded. "But more important.. why would Inzema leave you a note to look for me? We didn't even know each other.."
Erik shrugged and leaned back in his chair, drumming fingers against his head. ""Never underestimate madmen. They don't care about the puzzle, only the cake." My dad wasn't some sage, but I liked that one."
"Hm." Nikaa leaned back, moving the pen to balance between her knuckle and fingers, and lightly tapped the ends against the desk, as she sat thinking.
"Maybe he's trying to get us together to kill us at the same time?" Erik suggested. He suddenly leaned forward, as if something had just dawned on him. "OH GODS!" he exclaimed before pausing and scratching at where his nose would be beneath his mask. "Wait...that doesn't sound like a Slasher thing to do," he said in a calmer voice. "All my investigations have led me to believe he collects his victims from around the city and usually solitarily."
Nikaa twitched an eyebrow upward as she considered that. She blinked at his reaction and then laughed. "I don't know... he has had multiple victims at one scene before, though.. did you see the part in the file about the map of the sewers?"
Erik nodded and tapped his folder. "I was the first on the scene on that one. It was on my way home. I will give him this, he works very hard to do what he does."
"Has anyone checked the sewers yet?"
"Been down there a bit after they cleared the corpses. Didn't see what I didn't expect. Sewer rats and a couple of drug dealers."
"Hm.. I'm surprised," she said. She pointed the pencil at Erik. "Then again, him leaving a map makes me think he wanted people to go down there.. there may be something you overlooked, though. Did you check for any hidden rooms or entrances, or just do a general sweep?"
Erik shrugged apathetically. "General sweep. I'm not the type to go digging about for a psycho serial killer's lair by myself. The guard squad that went down after me didn't find anything, and Jaxon didn't care to work that night. I think he was more worried about home. Reported that the Slasher knew where he lived and was there once."
Nikaa was quiet for awhile.. thinking. Her eyes moved to Inzema's file and she flipped the corners of the papers through her fingers, recalling all the 'when's and where's' of seeing him. "I'm going to check it out sometime." She finally said. "Not alone, obviously."
Erik nodded. "Obviously..." Erik closed his files and rolled his shoulders, popping the joints. After a pause, he said "Is this Inzema guy a cannibal?
Nikaa blinked. "Yes..." She looked up at him. "He is..."
"Does he ever..." Erik trailed off, obviously uncomfortable asking. "You know..." Erik poked one finger into a hoop made by his other index finger and thumb.
Nikaa stared at him. "I don't know!" She grimaced. "I don't see how. He's Forsaken."
"Hah, that was what I was thinking. Slasher, he takes bites out of some of the victims, or at least I assume so. Jaxon said his latest victims..." He paused to check his notes. "Laura Hill and Paul Benson...had been partially eaten. That one...was a work of art, let me tell you." Erik's tone was partially disgust and awe as he continued. "He suspended them underneath the bridge between the Trade district and the Cathedral Square like they were having sex. Underneath! If Jaxon hadn't found them, they might've been dead hours before anyone would have known."
"If you say so.." Nikaa said. She shuddered, having seen the snapshots of the crime scene. "It's disgusting.. the thing is, some of these things seem to match up with Inzema, and some don't."
Erik nodded thoughtfully. "I wonder if there will enough left of the two's minds to testify."
Nikaa scratched her head. "Are they in protective custody?"
"Well yeah."
Nikaa says: "I haven't gotten too deep into that part of the case file. I had just started, when you got here. Wasn't even sure if they were still alive, or ended up dying from their injuries.."
"They're physically stable, but mentally?" Erik shrugged as he trailed off to show his uncertainty.
Nikaa sighed. "I wonder if I'd be given access to them. I'd like to know what they saw.. or heard. Did they provide a written statement, yet?"
Erik shook his head in the negative. "No statements yet. We had a priest dip into the mind of the girl because of evidence of rape. I don't think the priest will fully recover from that, and I think the girl's gone, mentally. The guy hasn't woken up yet, but I'm sure, well...I hope that we'll get a statement when he does. I'm sure you can get access to them if you want."
Nikaa widened her eyes at him. "People can do that?"
"What, dip into minds?"
"Yeah" she said as she nodded.
Erik nodded, drumming his fingers on the file in front of him. "With the proper training. Priests of the Shadow are hard to come by, but they're typically really good with the mind."
Nikaa made a face and shook her head, looking disturbed. "Not a fan of that magic stuff."
Erik shrugged. "Bloody useful, if you ask me. My armor's enchanted. Kept me alive from a few stray bullets."
Nikaa sighed and nodded, obviously still uncomfortable. "It can be.. but anyway, maybe I'll look into seeing the male victim.. or at least getting the statement when he's up. Who was the priest? He might be able to tell me what I need to know, from what he saw in the girls mind."
Erik flipped the page of the file and ran his finger down the page before stopping. "She was one..."Dawnblossom Shadowsheart." Night elf. I think there might have been some sort of backlash or something. She was speaking Gutterspeak for an hour after the dip, and won't talk about what she saw. Well...Fuck it, maybe you will have better luck asking her than I."
Nikaa furrowed a brow. "Great... dead end there, I guess.. Anyway, don't worry. I'm not gonna get too mixed up in your case, or interfere with it. I just want to see if there's a connection with mine. Plus, the more I know about Inzema, the better chance we have of catching him."
Erik grinned behind his mask and nodded. "Yup! More killers we rid the Horde of, the more we can focus on killing them!"
Nikaa nodded, glancing towards her list. "Dawnblossom Shadowsheart." She added to the page of notes on the Slasher.
Erikastav yawned and muttered to himself. "Fuck me with a tauren's fist...I'm tired."
Nikaa blinked and smirked. "That's a new one..and a terrible visual, thanks for that."
Erik laughed. "Oh, here's one for ya. What's the difference between a kodo's dick and a Tauren's fist?"
"Oh gods..." Nikaa said. Curiosity overcame. "What?"
Erik grinned widely, the amusement concealed behind his mask. "I am far more likely to catch the latter upside my head in combat, and the former's been in your mother's nethers." He chuckled and shook his head. "Heard that one from a drunken high elf at the Recluse, once."
Nikaa slapped her palm over her forehead. "Ugh! Enough!" She waved a file at him, shaking her head. "Go sleep, or something! And watch out for psychopaths leaving notes.."
Erik nodded and stood. "I'll take a psycho leaving notes to a psycho leaving paintings with my blood any day of the week," he said as he approached Nikaa's desk. He paused, looking down at the file, where he saw the logo for The Grim. "Say...what's that?" He pointed at the sigil.
"Oh, this?" She moved the papers aside, pulling out the one with the Grim crest on it. "That's their guild symbol.. The Grim.."
"Huh..."
"Why do you ask?"
Erik pulled a drawing from the Slasher folder and placed it down beside the Grim sigil. A rough sketch of a skull above two daggers. He oriented it so they faced the same direction. "Look kinda the same, don't they?"
"Hmm.." Nikaa turned the paper to face her and studied it. "Did he leave this, too?"
"No. That's something Jaxon noted beneath the Slasher's cloak as he swam away cackling."
"What do you mean, beneath his cloak?" Nikaa said, excitement bleeding through. "Where was it? Like a tattoo?"
"Nonono. No exposed skin. On his back, maybe like a tabard."
Nikaa huffed a sigh. "I'm almost positive it's him. I'll find out."
"How will you do that?" he said, crossing his arms. "Unless you're going to disguise yourself as a blood elf or something...but you don't really have the frame for it..."
Nikaa smiled faintly. "I watch him. Plenty. Now I just have to compare notes."
Erik blinked. That was a genuine surprise. "You watch him? You got bigger balls than I do."
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
Nikaa shrugged a shoulder and then laughed. "I'm determined. Besides.. I'm really good at .. " She blinked when Trigin appeared, smoking a cigar as was his usual motif. He stared at the two with his one-eyed gaze.
"Nikaa..."
Erik tapped his forehead as a salute to Trigin, which was met with an inquisitive eyebrow raise. Unperturbed by the lack of response, Erik continued. "Erik Astav, Investigator."
Nikaa eyed Trigin. "What're you doing here? I thought you hated this place."
Trigin ignored her, his focus entirely on Erik. "Investigator? Investigator of what?"
Erik shrugged. "Homicides, mostly. Serial types."
Trigin didn't seem to care. He shifted his gaze to Nikaa, "I just came here to get a few things."
Nikaa fidgeted nervously. "He's assigned to the Slasher case. I'm still trying to make the connection between him and Inzema." She dropped her pen on her desk and continued to look generally uncomfortable.
Trigin rubbed his chin. "I see... I didn't know more agents were on this case."
"Mh. Which case? Inzema or the Slasher?" Erik chimed in. He was running options in his head. This guy he wasn't entirely familiar with. He'd seen him once or twice, and remembered a profile in the SI:7 archives for him, but couldn't recall. He blinked and looked up. Nikaa had said something, and Trigin had said something as well. Ikai pinged a message on his goggles that Trigin doubted his investigation of the Slasher. Suspicious twit. "Kill enough people, you get looked at. Do you really think the guards can handle someone that can make off with thirty people in one night, tie them up, and get away without being seen?"
"The guard works separate from SI:7," Trigin responded.
Erik shrugged. "They know when to cooperate. I've been talking with Jaxon. He seems willing to accept help wherever he can get it." Nikaa stopped talking, nervously shuffling through her files. Trigin continued to insist that the SI:7 had no business in a serial killer, as if it weren't important. Erik would occasionally counter with a reason it should. This jerk was really cutting in on the fun here, but it also added a different level of fun. Ikai pinged a message on his goggles, notifying him that no file on this man was on record.
"Uh huh...Hey Nikaa, question for you. This guy one of us?" Erik jerked his finger in Trigin's direction, completely ignoring his last statement.
"Knight-Lieutenant Trigin, SI:7 special forces" said the man, cutting off any nervous response Nikaa might have made.
Internally, Erik winced. Brass. Get out now. "Gotcha. Lemme leave you to your all important whatever the heck you're up to. I'm gonna catch some fresh air. Good chattin' with you, Davies. If you wanna have someone watch your back when you check the sewers, lemme know." He started for the door, waving a goodbye over his shoulder. He made it halfway to the door when Trigin spoke again.
"Wait. I'll send for a guard to check you at the door... Standard procedure and all." There was something off about the statement, and this guy was getting on his nerves. Erik smirked and retorted "Check me for what? Your mother's virg...Ah. Yeah, sure thing, boss." Best to feign a little bit of fear of the guy.
Trigin raised an eyebrow. That had pissed him off. Nika swore under her breath as Trigin turned a little red.
"What was that, son?" Trigin said. Erik's goggles told him that Trigin's temperature was rising. "My mother's what? And I remind you, you are talking to one of your officers." Erik grinned behind his mask. Instinctively, he felt the dice calling to him. Roll us, take the chance. He closed a hand over the bag containing them, feeling their power thrum through him. Trigin watched Erik closely. Nikaa tried very hard to not be noticed.
"I don't work with anyone much, my apologies," Erik said, feigning sincerity. "I sometimes slip to old habits, which are useful when you're trying to root info out of the underbellies. I'm not entirely sure you'd know anything about that, sirrah. I mean...Ah." Erika sighed at Trigin's glare, glanced to Nikaa and said "See, this is why I can't stay out of trouble."
"There is something strange about you kid..." Trigin said. "And what did you say your name and rank was?"
Erik rolled his eyes, glad it didn't show. He hadn't, but he might as well. "Astav. Erik Astav." Erik was about to make a quip when a Night elf stepped from the shadows and said something about fearing the enemies within one's own gates. Erik glanced back and forth from Trigin to the newcomer. There was something off, and the danger senses in his head were screaming trap. He was still determined to win this game, either that or find out what they knew. Trigin asked for his rank again, to which Erik responded with the lowest, Private. Another person walked in, joining the conversation and drawing attention. Erik took the opportunity created by the distraction and slipped into shadows himself, giving himself a few moments alone to compose his thoughts. He watched the thermal signature of the elf turn into a druid-cat beast and disappear, watched her moving across the floor, sniffing him out. He knew that a human would have no chance of avoiding the scenting skills of a druid who had been playing in the shadows for decades, so he let her find him and pretended to be scared when she did. "Tricky bl..." Erik cut off his customary insult. Still can win this game, if I'm careful...
Trigin eyed Erik suspiciously. "Tell me son... Why did you try to run?"
"Habit." Erik said shruged as if that one word should explain everything.
"Habit? Its habit to run from a your superior." Trigin sounded more suspicious rather than less. The druid cast Faerie Fire over Erik, illuminating him. He started to scratch himself, skin prickling at the touch of the spell. "Faerie fire, ick...Habit to run from a guy who wants my ass on a stick? Yes. Keeps a kid alive in the gutters."
Trigin was making another comment, but Erik ignored him, zipping his lip over his mask. That pissed Trigin off even more. He told Erik he waanted to see Erik's face. Erik shrugged and slowly took off his mask, hood, and goggles, revealing his pale skin, pure black eyes, and black hair, actually a wig hiding his mohawk. Trigin blinked, his face going pale for a second, and he asked Erik what was wrong with his eyes. "Birth defect," he responded.
"That aint no birth defect... Its looks... Unnatural," Trigin said, obviously unnerved enough that he was no longer angry. That wasn't fun at all. Time to poke him again.
"So is you only having one eye." That did it. Trigin was red again, Nikaa was looking away again, and everyone else was becoming interested in something else. Erik subtly pressed a button on his goggles causing them to disappear with a popping noise. Trigin fumed and muttered, leading the way to the SI:7 records room. The druid followed behind in cat form and slinking among the shadows. Nikaa did as well. Trigin started to dig through the files until he found the one he was looking for. Erik stifled a comment about how half the eyes made reading harder. Trigin eventually closed the file, checked another, and replaced them both. Looking satisfied, Trigin said something about letting Erik go, which he was going to do when the human apparently had a change of mind and leveled a long rifle at him. Erik thought about commenting to the fact that the human was using a weapon with minimal effectiveness in point blank range due to the fact he could slap the barrel away before the shot could leave the barrel, but instead he decided to comply. Nikaa appeared from the shadows, looking confused. Erik smirked. The yellow in his eyes appeared briefly.
Trigin pulled the hammer of the gun back, another fatal mistake had Erik been intent on killing him. Never threaten with a weapon not ready. "The files were fakes! On your knees now!" He was pretty good, Erik thought to himself. The files were very good forgeries but intentionally not perfect. If he'd wanted perfect, he wouldn't have done the job himself. Behind him, he could hear Nikaa curse and go for her blade, though who to use it on she didn't seem sure. Erik decided that since the jig was up, it was time to play. He reached into his pouch and drew his dice, knowing Nikaa would see them and know.
He dropped the dice, the world slowed to a blur.
"IT'S HIM!!" Nikaa screamed, launching for him.
The druid began to cast.
The dice bounced. The first landed. One skull.
The second landed. Five skulls.
Inzema blinked, eying the betrayal of his dice, but they were law, and they said no death. Patience, they called for. You will have your chance. Inzema shrugged, bent to recover his dice, dodging a sap from Nikaa at the same time. Roots sprouted from the floor, entangling him. "Fine, you got me. Fair and sssquare," he said, slipping into his normal voice. Between Trigin and the druid, Inzema remained docile and captured while Nikaa freaked out and tried to render him unconscious, even going so far as toppling the file cabinet on him. Inzema had a good laugh about that one, mocking the living and their fear. Inzema made a few sexual comments towards Nikaa while they discussed what to do with him, how much restraint was required, and where they were taking him. When Nikaa kicked him in the face, that was all Inzema felt like taking from her, as she wouldn't play along with the sexual advances he was making, so the next time her foot came, he bit her, his teeth easily cutting through the leather and into her foot. That caused the druid to act, clawing him off of the boot, much to his amusement. Eventually Trigin assumed command, bound, gagged, and bagged Inzema, and carried him down the stairs and out of SI:7, Inzema on his shoulder and making muffled wise ass remarks the whole way.
"Nikaa..."
Erik tapped his forehead as a salute to Trigin, which was met with an inquisitive eyebrow raise. Unperturbed by the lack of response, Erik continued. "Erik Astav, Investigator."
Nikaa eyed Trigin. "What're you doing here? I thought you hated this place."
Trigin ignored her, his focus entirely on Erik. "Investigator? Investigator of what?"
Erik shrugged. "Homicides, mostly. Serial types."
Trigin didn't seem to care. He shifted his gaze to Nikaa, "I just came here to get a few things."
Nikaa fidgeted nervously. "He's assigned to the Slasher case. I'm still trying to make the connection between him and Inzema." She dropped her pen on her desk and continued to look generally uncomfortable.
Trigin rubbed his chin. "I see... I didn't know more agents were on this case."
"Mh. Which case? Inzema or the Slasher?" Erik chimed in. He was running options in his head. This guy he wasn't entirely familiar with. He'd seen him once or twice, and remembered a profile in the SI:7 archives for him, but couldn't recall. He blinked and looked up. Nikaa had said something, and Trigin had said something as well. Ikai pinged a message on his goggles that Trigin doubted his investigation of the Slasher. Suspicious twit. "Kill enough people, you get looked at. Do you really think the guards can handle someone that can make off with thirty people in one night, tie them up, and get away without being seen?"
"The guard works separate from SI:7," Trigin responded.
Erik shrugged. "They know when to cooperate. I've been talking with Jaxon. He seems willing to accept help wherever he can get it." Nikaa stopped talking, nervously shuffling through her files. Trigin continued to insist that the SI:7 had no business in a serial killer, as if it weren't important. Erik would occasionally counter with a reason it should. This jerk was really cutting in on the fun here, but it also added a different level of fun. Ikai pinged a message on his goggles, notifying him that no file on this man was on record.
"Uh huh...Hey Nikaa, question for you. This guy one of us?" Erik jerked his finger in Trigin's direction, completely ignoring his last statement.
"Knight-Lieutenant Trigin, SI:7 special forces" said the man, cutting off any nervous response Nikaa might have made.
Internally, Erik winced. Brass. Get out now. "Gotcha. Lemme leave you to your all important whatever the heck you're up to. I'm gonna catch some fresh air. Good chattin' with you, Davies. If you wanna have someone watch your back when you check the sewers, lemme know." He started for the door, waving a goodbye over his shoulder. He made it halfway to the door when Trigin spoke again.
"Wait. I'll send for a guard to check you at the door... Standard procedure and all." There was something off about the statement, and this guy was getting on his nerves. Erik smirked and retorted "Check me for what? Your mother's virg...Ah. Yeah, sure thing, boss." Best to feign a little bit of fear of the guy.
Trigin raised an eyebrow. That had pissed him off. Nika swore under her breath as Trigin turned a little red.
"What was that, son?" Trigin said. Erik's goggles told him that Trigin's temperature was rising. "My mother's what? And I remind you, you are talking to one of your officers." Erik grinned behind his mask. Instinctively, he felt the dice calling to him. Roll us, take the chance. He closed a hand over the bag containing them, feeling their power thrum through him. Trigin watched Erik closely. Nikaa tried very hard to not be noticed.
"I don't work with anyone much, my apologies," Erik said, feigning sincerity. "I sometimes slip to old habits, which are useful when you're trying to root info out of the underbellies. I'm not entirely sure you'd know anything about that, sirrah. I mean...Ah." Erika sighed at Trigin's glare, glanced to Nikaa and said "See, this is why I can't stay out of trouble."
"There is something strange about you kid..." Trigin said. "And what did you say your name and rank was?"
Erik rolled his eyes, glad it didn't show. He hadn't, but he might as well. "Astav. Erik Astav." Erik was about to make a quip when a Night elf stepped from the shadows and said something about fearing the enemies within one's own gates. Erik glanced back and forth from Trigin to the newcomer. There was something off, and the danger senses in his head were screaming trap. He was still determined to win this game, either that or find out what they knew. Trigin asked for his rank again, to which Erik responded with the lowest, Private. Another person walked in, joining the conversation and drawing attention. Erik took the opportunity created by the distraction and slipped into shadows himself, giving himself a few moments alone to compose his thoughts. He watched the thermal signature of the elf turn into a druid-cat beast and disappear, watched her moving across the floor, sniffing him out. He knew that a human would have no chance of avoiding the scenting skills of a druid who had been playing in the shadows for decades, so he let her find him and pretended to be scared when she did. "Tricky bl..." Erik cut off his customary insult. Still can win this game, if I'm careful...
Trigin eyed Erik suspiciously. "Tell me son... Why did you try to run?"
"Habit." Erik said shruged as if that one word should explain everything.
"Habit? Its habit to run from a your superior." Trigin sounded more suspicious rather than less. The druid cast Faerie Fire over Erik, illuminating him. He started to scratch himself, skin prickling at the touch of the spell. "Faerie fire, ick...Habit to run from a guy who wants my ass on a stick? Yes. Keeps a kid alive in the gutters."
Trigin was making another comment, but Erik ignored him, zipping his lip over his mask. That pissed Trigin off even more. He told Erik he waanted to see Erik's face. Erik shrugged and slowly took off his mask, hood, and goggles, revealing his pale skin, pure black eyes, and black hair, actually a wig hiding his mohawk. Trigin blinked, his face going pale for a second, and he asked Erik what was wrong with his eyes. "Birth defect," he responded.
"That aint no birth defect... Its looks... Unnatural," Trigin said, obviously unnerved enough that he was no longer angry. That wasn't fun at all. Time to poke him again.
"So is you only having one eye." That did it. Trigin was red again, Nikaa was looking away again, and everyone else was becoming interested in something else. Erik subtly pressed a button on his goggles causing them to disappear with a popping noise. Trigin fumed and muttered, leading the way to the SI:7 records room. The druid followed behind in cat form and slinking among the shadows. Nikaa did as well. Trigin started to dig through the files until he found the one he was looking for. Erik stifled a comment about how half the eyes made reading harder. Trigin eventually closed the file, checked another, and replaced them both. Looking satisfied, Trigin said something about letting Erik go, which he was going to do when the human apparently had a change of mind and leveled a long rifle at him. Erik thought about commenting to the fact that the human was using a weapon with minimal effectiveness in point blank range due to the fact he could slap the barrel away before the shot could leave the barrel, but instead he decided to comply. Nikaa appeared from the shadows, looking confused. Erik smirked. The yellow in his eyes appeared briefly.
Trigin pulled the hammer of the gun back, another fatal mistake had Erik been intent on killing him. Never threaten with a weapon not ready. "The files were fakes! On your knees now!" He was pretty good, Erik thought to himself. The files were very good forgeries but intentionally not perfect. If he'd wanted perfect, he wouldn't have done the job himself. Behind him, he could hear Nikaa curse and go for her blade, though who to use it on she didn't seem sure. Erik decided that since the jig was up, it was time to play. He reached into his pouch and drew his dice, knowing Nikaa would see them and know.
He dropped the dice, the world slowed to a blur.
"IT'S HIM!!" Nikaa screamed, launching for him.
The druid began to cast.
The dice bounced. The first landed. One skull.
The second landed. Five skulls.
Inzema blinked, eying the betrayal of his dice, but they were law, and they said no death. Patience, they called for. You will have your chance. Inzema shrugged, bent to recover his dice, dodging a sap from Nikaa at the same time. Roots sprouted from the floor, entangling him. "Fine, you got me. Fair and sssquare," he said, slipping into his normal voice. Between Trigin and the druid, Inzema remained docile and captured while Nikaa freaked out and tried to render him unconscious, even going so far as toppling the file cabinet on him. Inzema had a good laugh about that one, mocking the living and their fear. Inzema made a few sexual comments towards Nikaa while they discussed what to do with him, how much restraint was required, and where they were taking him. When Nikaa kicked him in the face, that was all Inzema felt like taking from her, as she wouldn't play along with the sexual advances he was making, so the next time her foot came, he bit her, his teeth easily cutting through the leather and into her foot. That caused the druid to act, clawing him off of the boot, much to his amusement. Eventually Trigin assumed command, bound, gagged, and bagged Inzema, and carried him down the stairs and out of SI:7, Inzema on his shoulder and making muffled wise ass remarks the whole way.
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
Despite the fact that Inzema was nearly blind without his goggles, or at least comparatively blind (One visual spectrum was so human) he knew when they reached the stockades. He also knew when they had been joined by Creedy the Gnome and several guards. While the guards began to frisk and strip Inzema, Creedy and Nikaa talked, discussing the plan of action and what had happened while the druid, whose name turned out to be Yueme, which Inzema added to his list of people to play with, healed Nikaa, who was apparently terrified of magic, also filed away mentally for further use. Trigin excused himself to handle something else. Inzema made searching him as difficulty as possible, and when it came time for a cavity search, he made it impossible so that eventually, since it wasn't their job nor life on the lines, the guards gave in and returned Inzema clothed in the prison garb to their superiors and took up post outside the cell, never to speak of the event again, but culturally enriched by the new curse words they had learned.
Creedy walked over to Inzema, who had been left sitting on a table by the guards. When Creedy summoned his Jeeves, Inzema dove for cover by pure instinct at the sound of the rocket boots, thinking Cehsneog had somehow been summoned, and due to his bonds, found himself halfway off the table and resting on his head. The gnome received his "tools" and his bolt gun from the mechagnome and dismissed it.
"Hey! I'm not answering quessstionsss unless you take thisss hood off!" Inzema called out with a cackle. He could hear people still there, but without his goggles, he couldn't see through the hood. The goggles had been necessary to send off, just in case. Ikai needed to know he might need to be recovered, and she could still hear through his hearthstone, which was still in the room somewhere. He hoped.
"The hood stays on. You answer a question true... you may be relieved of it. Ladies... Please step back." Creedy began to get ready. Inzema already knew it was to be Creedy here, but he decided to pretend he knew less.
"Creedy? That you?" he said, squirming a little as if he were looking, despite the fact he was still comically halfway off the table and resting on his head. Inema decided to push Creedy's buttons as well. "Aww, you brought a half pint to interrogate me? What'sss he gonna do? Wait...my head'sss on the floor. Fuck!" Rolled the rest of the way off the table and worked his way into a sitting position. He felt the knits and found them to be insufficient to hold him, but he let them remain for the game. I can still win this.
Creedy fiddled with something metallic, which illicited a "You better do it for real! Please don't make me do it." from Nikaa.
Inzema chuckled. "Do what? You can fuck me and I'll tell you whatever you wanna know, Nikaa!"
Creedy opened a metal latch, probably to a cage of some sort. "Trust me Nikaa..." he said. "I would like nothing better than to dissect this malfunctioning individual to see what went wrong with it. We'll start... easy." He walked closer, his tiny feet making tiny footsteps. "Have you ever studied how long the excrement within the anal glands of a skunk can reside on flesh? Especially flesh that.... does not regenerate skin cells?"
Inzema blinked. He wasn't sure if he had just heard what he thought he had heard. Maybe Creedy was some sort of brain dead idiot. "Wait, what? Are you fuckin' ssseriousss?" Nikaa made a similar comment, to which Inzema responded "Hey Nikaa? You brought the retarded gnome!"
Creedy sounded unaffected by the insult, though he put the skunk back in its cage and put the cage away. "But of course.... Smell has nothing to do with it. Your olfactory senses are also dulled. That's right...You are undead. Forsaken as your queen lady named it. Ironic I believe, because in that, you boast about how the holy light has forsaken you as well. These babies here pack quite a punch of that... Light that has fled from your kind."
A pair of tiny metal on stone clanks sounded, announcing the presence of the metal balls Creedy had thrown. Inzema felt the warmth of the Light they created, but like most things, it did not affect him or really touch him. Inzema looked about, trying to figure out where the warmth was coming from. "Uh. Nikaa, isss he doing sssomething? Did hisss time being captured turn him into a total retard, or isss it becaussse he'sss a gnome? I mean, I know that Gnomesss are defective engineersss. Can't even engineer their sssity back!"
Creedy muttered "Damn my subtle tricks."
"Keep yapping, Inzema," Nikaa said as Creedy lit something that sounded like a blow torch. "I'm sure there's going to be a whole line up of people waiting for their turn with you. Trigin, included." Creedy plunged the flame into Inzema's back, causing him to yelp before his retort, his skin burning much like a human's might. Yueme said something about mental torture over physical. Nikaa and Yueme discussed acquiring a shadow priest or a warlock while Creedy burned Inzema. When Creedy took the torch away Inzema cursed and hissed at the gnome. "You gotta asssk quessstionsss, you dim witted gear head before I can anssswer them!"
Creedy sounded like he was smiling. "Oh.. I don't think so. you do not get to tell ME how to interrogate. Burn first.... questions after." Yueme and Nikaa continued to ignore the two, more interested in acquiring a warlock, so Inzema felt like teaching the gnome a lesson. He coiled his legs beneath him and launched himself at the gnome, but the gnome was just fast enough to dodge out of the way. Inzema could hear Nikaa stumbling to her feet and felt the coils of roots finding purchase in holding him in place. "Tell Ms. Davies here... what she wants, and you get to keep the rest of your skin... intact. First question now that your back appears to have the beginning signs of necrotic 3rd degree-"
"First off, the location of your lab!" Nikaa interrupted, sounding nervous and impatient.
"Outssside of time!" Inzema responded with a laugh. "It alssso might be in my pantsss."
"Wrong answer," Nikaa said. "It's in Northrend, somewhere. Where?" Yueme said something about the Caverns of Time. Creedy stabbed the torch into a spot of skin on Inzema's shoulder this time. Inzema responded with the same response. "It'sss outssside of time!"
"Is that where the Device is being built?" Nikaa asked.
"Which devissse?" Inzema asked, nkowing full well what she was asking about.
Nikaa huffed at him. "The M.U.R.D.E.R portion."
Someone else walked into the room. Yueme left. Trigin spoke. "I came for my payment." The sound of coins being passed in a sack from hand to hand was all Inzema heard before the sound of a bolt gun cocking.
"Murder? No, the Murder isssn't there," Inzema said, blatantly avoiding answering the question they really wanted the answer to.
"Where is it?" Creedy asked, the million gold question. Inzema called him a trogg-snack, said it was in Teldrassil, and was rewarded with a bolt through his elbow. He hissed at the pain of bones breaking, but he could feel them repairing already, despite his grey-red blood seeping slowly from the wound.
"Lie again," Creedy said, pausing for effect, "and like hangman, I'll begin to remove your limbs. Or is it... add them? No matter."
"It'sss add," Inzema quipped. "We can play hangman, though. I like that game."
Creedy muttered. "Too bad for you that I don't like to play. Answer the question right." Creedy cocked the bolt gun again and pointed the primed weapon at Inzema's shin. "Or I begin to dissassemble you piece by piece with a gun. A really ineffective method I might add... but more painful then blades. Teldressil is your final answer?"
"Jussst becaussse you don't like the anssswer doesssn't make it wrong," Inzema hissed. It wasn't really in Teldrassil, but they didn't know that. Inzema heard a pair of new people walk in, one with hooves. one of them exchanged greetings with Nikaa and Trigin and the three talked. Inzema couldn't hear what was being said over the sound of Creedy laughing, probably imagining being made king of the Gnomes for killing one forsaken. What a twit. Inzema started humming again to ignore the gnome, who was obviously not pating enough attention to notice that Inzema's wounds were healing. The burns were nearly gone and the bleeding had already stopped at his elbow. "Teeeeldraaaaassssiiiiilllll," Inzema droned, determined to annoy the bleeders. I will win this game.
Nikaa sighed, returning her attention to Inzema. "Fine, WHERE in Teldrassil. Because I'll go look right now."
"I didn't hide it!" Inzema replied, smirking beneath the bag. Hook, line, and sucker.
"Can I just begin to remove his parts? I would like to study him," Creedy said. Patience was obviously not a Gnomish virtue. Inzema didn't think the gnome had the fortitude to actually do it, so he cackled and said "Ooh! Ooh! Let him try! I've never been disssasssembled before!"
Nikaa gave Creedy the go-ahead. Trigin said to keep Inzema alive. "All you need to keep is the head," creedy said, thus showing off his ignorance of undead physiology.
"Actually, I'm not like that. Disssasssemble me enough, I ssstop working," Inzema said, correcting the idiot gnome.
Creedy holstered his gun in exchange for a knife that Inzema could smell burning the air. Inzema smiled as he heard the gnome trembling, probably from fear. Gnome punting was hilarious, especially when cliffs were involved. "Then we'll see the limit."
Inzema shrugged as best as he could tied up. "I can tell you the limit."
Creedy said he didn't care and asked about the Murder device, which set Inzema to mocking Creedy's faulty schematics and engineering abilities, irritating the gnome further. He was distracted when he smelled something familiar and alluring. "Isss that a sssuccubusss I sssmell?"
The succubus chuckled breathily. "It might be."
Interesting. Inzema cackled. "Hot."
The succubus started to do it's seductive thing, most of which was lost on Inzema due to the bag on his head, but he heard the small moan she made. " I think I can get some manner of response from him."
Nikaa scowled at the succubus. "He's not supposed to enjoy himself!"
Inzema chuckled at Nikaa's ire, a little disappointed with the warlock calling the demon back to her side. His member was uncomfortable now, pressing against his pants. Darn sex demons and their wiles. Crfeedy got back to work, placing his burning knife right above Inzema's ankle. More people walked in, turning the small cell into some sort of cramped torture party. Inzema was proud he brought this sort of attention.
"Oh godsss noooo! Not my ankle! It'sss the sssourssse of my power!" Inzema cried in mock horror.
"Is it?" Creey asked, the smug little twit quivering with what Inzema now recognized as anticipation. "GOOD. But I am small sir, as you can see. I am not going to stop at the ankle. Just small enough pieces to carry you back to my lab."
Inzema ignored the gnome, turning his attention back to Nikaa. "Hey Nikaa! I'd've tongue-fucked you, but you keep making grosssed out fasssesss when you hear me sssay it!" He hissed at Creedy. "Hey, Creedy, go away. I'm hitting on Nikaa. I don't think it'sss working."
The succubus cracked her whip and asked for a go at Inzema in a sultry voice. Nikaa huffed, saying something about scouting and left. No fun at all. Creedy chuckled and talked about mounting a cockroach, which Inzema assumed was how more gnomes were made, before cutting Inzema's foot off at the ankle. Inzema hissed at the pain, but was soothed when the Succubus came back and began caressing him. " Let me try," she said, sending Inzema's libido into overdrive. Inzema heard his foot being tossed aside, no sound like that of severed limbs being thrown carelessly about. Inzema felt the heat of the blade start hovering over his knee. It was really hard to feel the pain with the succubus there, doing her seductive thing.
The succubus purred suggestively rubbed against Inzema. "I can make him say a few things... pray to any gods he may have."
"Want me to take your knee?" Creedy asked. "Details sir...information for body parts. It's a simple trade really. knowledge for physical parts. Where... exactly... is the device you are building with my stolen schematics?" Creedy sounded annoyed with the succubus interfering, but Inzema really couldn't be bothered. He was having difficulty concentrating due to her affectations.
"Just a few lashes..." she whined playfully.
Inzema laughed, his voice strained a little from the pain. "It isssn't being built."
Creedy sighed. "Built, costructed.. assembled. There are many synonyms that might be used. Where is it being developed. You wouldn't steal my ingenius schematics to just sit on them."
"I know what a sssynonym isss!" Inzema replied, irritated. "And your ingeniousss schematicsss sssucked! Your theoriesss and math were off by several persssent!" He was going to spout more insults towards the Gnome but was interrupted when Creedy pushed the blade through the knee, allowing the blade to slice his calf clean off. No blood due to cauterized wound, no mess.
"Oh I doubt that very much... and you're detracting from the question. A location for a body part. Now I have two. Pretty soon you'll run out of answers, and you won't be able to pay back all the pieces I have..."
The succubus sighed, the pout evident in her voice. "If you keep that up he won't be as fun."
Inzema hissed from the pain again, then laughed, though it was mostly forced. Any time, Ikai. "Actually, I can probably reattach them if you leave them around."
Creedy chuckled. "Come now... you insult me! you think I would leave them around." Creedy tossed the stump over his shoulder, it landed with a dull thud beside his foot. The spectators in the back began to talk amongst themselves. "Now.... the other side.. or the thigh? Perhaps your shrivelled excuse of a manhood? Inzema the eunuch sounds rather catchy..."
Inzema snarled. "Oh no. No sssirree. You ain't takin' my dick."
"Oh I think I might..." Creedy said as he worked at Inzema's pants, revealing him still fully functioning and affected by the succubus."
Inzema heard a pop, followed by another, then another. Very small, almost unnoticeable. The sound of his equipment being taken away by the recall devices he had linked to Ikai in his lab. He smiled. That's a good girl. I win. "No, no I don't think you will," he told the gnome, sounding more cocky than ever. "Sssee, I've been playing nissse. I hasss. But now you're talking 'bout thingsss that really matter. I wasss gonna tell you ssstuff."
Creedy growled at Inzema. "You still are."
"Nope!"
"Very well," Creedy said. The heat from his Knife was pulsing near Inzema's member. The spectators continued to talk, and Inzema heard the warlock dismiss her succubus. Inzema called the shadows, washing away faerie fire and druid roots. He cackled at Creedy. He felt the familiar pull of temporal anomalies forming behind him, preparing his escape.
Creedy shook his head, and removed his goggles. He blinked, but he was too focused to let anomalies distract him. One more attempt he thought. Creedy moved forward, and pressed the plasma blade between Inzema's legs. "A flick and you lose it. Don’t make me make a eunuch out of you. Just answer me straight; where is the location of the Grim operations in dealing with the device involving the schematics you stole from me?”
Inzema laughed and leaned closer to Creedy. "It'sss all over...your mom!"
Janaelle blinked incredulously at Inzema's response while Inzema only cackled as a wormhole opened behind him and sucked him into it. Creedy swept the blade up, but it was fractions too slow to catch Inzema as he disappeared, leaving Creedy to slice at air. Creedy began to swear. He stabbed the blade into the stone column, and left it sizzling in the rock. He kicked the base of the column, and grumbled.
Trigin blinks, "What just happened?"
Janaelle takes a half-step forward, frowning, "How...?"
Janaelle blinked and gave Creedy a confused look. "Creedy, how did that happen?" she said at the same time Trigin asked"I thought we removed everything he had? I checked him twice and the guard must have checked him as well."
Creedy pulled the goggles back over his head only to see the dissapearing effects of a wormhole. He began to tap digits quickly, ignoring the questions, but mumbling something about a minituized portal. "Could have hidden it within his body," he muttered. "Forsaken often do that...Damn. I might have been able to trace the ley lines to a location if I had kept my goggles on..."
Janaelle looks disgusted, "And we're back to where we were then..."
"I have a 1/8 chance to open the correct ley portal.... I think we need a tracker. He isn't going far with a missing leg," Creedy said as he tapped a few more buttons and created a portal.
"I will try one. Trigin... Janaelle... Head to Dalaran and see if Storm Peaks or Icecrown has one legged snow tracks." The gnome turned and began walking into the blue glow of his portal.
Trigin put out a hand, beckoning for the disappearing gnome. "Hang on there Creedy," he said, a little too late.
Janaelle nodded to Creedy. "I'll take Icecrown," Janaelle said, triggering her own portal-creating device.
Trigin fumed, exhaling smoke. "Damn it! I expect to be paid for this!"
Janaelle snickered at Trigin and stepped through her own portal.
Creedy walked over to Inzema, who had been left sitting on a table by the guards. When Creedy summoned his Jeeves, Inzema dove for cover by pure instinct at the sound of the rocket boots, thinking Cehsneog had somehow been summoned, and due to his bonds, found himself halfway off the table and resting on his head. The gnome received his "tools" and his bolt gun from the mechagnome and dismissed it.
"Hey! I'm not answering quessstionsss unless you take thisss hood off!" Inzema called out with a cackle. He could hear people still there, but without his goggles, he couldn't see through the hood. The goggles had been necessary to send off, just in case. Ikai needed to know he might need to be recovered, and she could still hear through his hearthstone, which was still in the room somewhere. He hoped.
"The hood stays on. You answer a question true... you may be relieved of it. Ladies... Please step back." Creedy began to get ready. Inzema already knew it was to be Creedy here, but he decided to pretend he knew less.
"Creedy? That you?" he said, squirming a little as if he were looking, despite the fact he was still comically halfway off the table and resting on his head. Inema decided to push Creedy's buttons as well. "Aww, you brought a half pint to interrogate me? What'sss he gonna do? Wait...my head'sss on the floor. Fuck!" Rolled the rest of the way off the table and worked his way into a sitting position. He felt the knits and found them to be insufficient to hold him, but he let them remain for the game. I can still win this.
Creedy fiddled with something metallic, which illicited a "You better do it for real! Please don't make me do it." from Nikaa.
Inzema chuckled. "Do what? You can fuck me and I'll tell you whatever you wanna know, Nikaa!"
Creedy opened a metal latch, probably to a cage of some sort. "Trust me Nikaa..." he said. "I would like nothing better than to dissect this malfunctioning individual to see what went wrong with it. We'll start... easy." He walked closer, his tiny feet making tiny footsteps. "Have you ever studied how long the excrement within the anal glands of a skunk can reside on flesh? Especially flesh that.... does not regenerate skin cells?"
Inzema blinked. He wasn't sure if he had just heard what he thought he had heard. Maybe Creedy was some sort of brain dead idiot. "Wait, what? Are you fuckin' ssseriousss?" Nikaa made a similar comment, to which Inzema responded "Hey Nikaa? You brought the retarded gnome!"
Creedy sounded unaffected by the insult, though he put the skunk back in its cage and put the cage away. "But of course.... Smell has nothing to do with it. Your olfactory senses are also dulled. That's right...You are undead. Forsaken as your queen lady named it. Ironic I believe, because in that, you boast about how the holy light has forsaken you as well. These babies here pack quite a punch of that... Light that has fled from your kind."
A pair of tiny metal on stone clanks sounded, announcing the presence of the metal balls Creedy had thrown. Inzema felt the warmth of the Light they created, but like most things, it did not affect him or really touch him. Inzema looked about, trying to figure out where the warmth was coming from. "Uh. Nikaa, isss he doing sssomething? Did hisss time being captured turn him into a total retard, or isss it becaussse he'sss a gnome? I mean, I know that Gnomesss are defective engineersss. Can't even engineer their sssity back!"
Creedy muttered "Damn my subtle tricks."
"Keep yapping, Inzema," Nikaa said as Creedy lit something that sounded like a blow torch. "I'm sure there's going to be a whole line up of people waiting for their turn with you. Trigin, included." Creedy plunged the flame into Inzema's back, causing him to yelp before his retort, his skin burning much like a human's might. Yueme said something about mental torture over physical. Nikaa and Yueme discussed acquiring a shadow priest or a warlock while Creedy burned Inzema. When Creedy took the torch away Inzema cursed and hissed at the gnome. "You gotta asssk quessstionsss, you dim witted gear head before I can anssswer them!"
Creedy sounded like he was smiling. "Oh.. I don't think so. you do not get to tell ME how to interrogate. Burn first.... questions after." Yueme and Nikaa continued to ignore the two, more interested in acquiring a warlock, so Inzema felt like teaching the gnome a lesson. He coiled his legs beneath him and launched himself at the gnome, but the gnome was just fast enough to dodge out of the way. Inzema could hear Nikaa stumbling to her feet and felt the coils of roots finding purchase in holding him in place. "Tell Ms. Davies here... what she wants, and you get to keep the rest of your skin... intact. First question now that your back appears to have the beginning signs of necrotic 3rd degree-"
"First off, the location of your lab!" Nikaa interrupted, sounding nervous and impatient.
"Outssside of time!" Inzema responded with a laugh. "It alssso might be in my pantsss."
"Wrong answer," Nikaa said. "It's in Northrend, somewhere. Where?" Yueme said something about the Caverns of Time. Creedy stabbed the torch into a spot of skin on Inzema's shoulder this time. Inzema responded with the same response. "It'sss outssside of time!"
"Is that where the Device is being built?" Nikaa asked.
"Which devissse?" Inzema asked, nkowing full well what she was asking about.
Nikaa huffed at him. "The M.U.R.D.E.R portion."
Someone else walked into the room. Yueme left. Trigin spoke. "I came for my payment." The sound of coins being passed in a sack from hand to hand was all Inzema heard before the sound of a bolt gun cocking.
"Murder? No, the Murder isssn't there," Inzema said, blatantly avoiding answering the question they really wanted the answer to.
"Where is it?" Creedy asked, the million gold question. Inzema called him a trogg-snack, said it was in Teldrassil, and was rewarded with a bolt through his elbow. He hissed at the pain of bones breaking, but he could feel them repairing already, despite his grey-red blood seeping slowly from the wound.
"Lie again," Creedy said, pausing for effect, "and like hangman, I'll begin to remove your limbs. Or is it... add them? No matter."
"It'sss add," Inzema quipped. "We can play hangman, though. I like that game."
Creedy muttered. "Too bad for you that I don't like to play. Answer the question right." Creedy cocked the bolt gun again and pointed the primed weapon at Inzema's shin. "Or I begin to dissassemble you piece by piece with a gun. A really ineffective method I might add... but more painful then blades. Teldressil is your final answer?"
"Jussst becaussse you don't like the anssswer doesssn't make it wrong," Inzema hissed. It wasn't really in Teldrassil, but they didn't know that. Inzema heard a pair of new people walk in, one with hooves. one of them exchanged greetings with Nikaa and Trigin and the three talked. Inzema couldn't hear what was being said over the sound of Creedy laughing, probably imagining being made king of the Gnomes for killing one forsaken. What a twit. Inzema started humming again to ignore the gnome, who was obviously not pating enough attention to notice that Inzema's wounds were healing. The burns were nearly gone and the bleeding had already stopped at his elbow. "Teeeeldraaaaassssiiiiilllll," Inzema droned, determined to annoy the bleeders. I will win this game.
Nikaa sighed, returning her attention to Inzema. "Fine, WHERE in Teldrassil. Because I'll go look right now."
"I didn't hide it!" Inzema replied, smirking beneath the bag. Hook, line, and sucker.
"Can I just begin to remove his parts? I would like to study him," Creedy said. Patience was obviously not a Gnomish virtue. Inzema didn't think the gnome had the fortitude to actually do it, so he cackled and said "Ooh! Ooh! Let him try! I've never been disssasssembled before!"
Nikaa gave Creedy the go-ahead. Trigin said to keep Inzema alive. "All you need to keep is the head," creedy said, thus showing off his ignorance of undead physiology.
"Actually, I'm not like that. Disssasssemble me enough, I ssstop working," Inzema said, correcting the idiot gnome.
Creedy holstered his gun in exchange for a knife that Inzema could smell burning the air. Inzema smiled as he heard the gnome trembling, probably from fear. Gnome punting was hilarious, especially when cliffs were involved. "Then we'll see the limit."
Inzema shrugged as best as he could tied up. "I can tell you the limit."
Creedy said he didn't care and asked about the Murder device, which set Inzema to mocking Creedy's faulty schematics and engineering abilities, irritating the gnome further. He was distracted when he smelled something familiar and alluring. "Isss that a sssuccubusss I sssmell?"
The succubus chuckled breathily. "It might be."
Interesting. Inzema cackled. "Hot."
The succubus started to do it's seductive thing, most of which was lost on Inzema due to the bag on his head, but he heard the small moan she made. " I think I can get some manner of response from him."
Nikaa scowled at the succubus. "He's not supposed to enjoy himself!"
Inzema chuckled at Nikaa's ire, a little disappointed with the warlock calling the demon back to her side. His member was uncomfortable now, pressing against his pants. Darn sex demons and their wiles. Crfeedy got back to work, placing his burning knife right above Inzema's ankle. More people walked in, turning the small cell into some sort of cramped torture party. Inzema was proud he brought this sort of attention.
"Oh godsss noooo! Not my ankle! It'sss the sssourssse of my power!" Inzema cried in mock horror.
"Is it?" Creey asked, the smug little twit quivering with what Inzema now recognized as anticipation. "GOOD. But I am small sir, as you can see. I am not going to stop at the ankle. Just small enough pieces to carry you back to my lab."
Inzema ignored the gnome, turning his attention back to Nikaa. "Hey Nikaa! I'd've tongue-fucked you, but you keep making grosssed out fasssesss when you hear me sssay it!" He hissed at Creedy. "Hey, Creedy, go away. I'm hitting on Nikaa. I don't think it'sss working."
The succubus cracked her whip and asked for a go at Inzema in a sultry voice. Nikaa huffed, saying something about scouting and left. No fun at all. Creedy chuckled and talked about mounting a cockroach, which Inzema assumed was how more gnomes were made, before cutting Inzema's foot off at the ankle. Inzema hissed at the pain, but was soothed when the Succubus came back and began caressing him. " Let me try," she said, sending Inzema's libido into overdrive. Inzema heard his foot being tossed aside, no sound like that of severed limbs being thrown carelessly about. Inzema felt the heat of the blade start hovering over his knee. It was really hard to feel the pain with the succubus there, doing her seductive thing.
The succubus purred suggestively rubbed against Inzema. "I can make him say a few things... pray to any gods he may have."
"Want me to take your knee?" Creedy asked. "Details sir...information for body parts. It's a simple trade really. knowledge for physical parts. Where... exactly... is the device you are building with my stolen schematics?" Creedy sounded annoyed with the succubus interfering, but Inzema really couldn't be bothered. He was having difficulty concentrating due to her affectations.
"Just a few lashes..." she whined playfully.
Inzema laughed, his voice strained a little from the pain. "It isssn't being built."
Creedy sighed. "Built, costructed.. assembled. There are many synonyms that might be used. Where is it being developed. You wouldn't steal my ingenius schematics to just sit on them."
"I know what a sssynonym isss!" Inzema replied, irritated. "And your ingeniousss schematicsss sssucked! Your theoriesss and math were off by several persssent!" He was going to spout more insults towards the Gnome but was interrupted when Creedy pushed the blade through the knee, allowing the blade to slice his calf clean off. No blood due to cauterized wound, no mess.
"Oh I doubt that very much... and you're detracting from the question. A location for a body part. Now I have two. Pretty soon you'll run out of answers, and you won't be able to pay back all the pieces I have..."
The succubus sighed, the pout evident in her voice. "If you keep that up he won't be as fun."
Inzema hissed from the pain again, then laughed, though it was mostly forced. Any time, Ikai. "Actually, I can probably reattach them if you leave them around."
Creedy chuckled. "Come now... you insult me! you think I would leave them around." Creedy tossed the stump over his shoulder, it landed with a dull thud beside his foot. The spectators in the back began to talk amongst themselves. "Now.... the other side.. or the thigh? Perhaps your shrivelled excuse of a manhood? Inzema the eunuch sounds rather catchy..."
Inzema snarled. "Oh no. No sssirree. You ain't takin' my dick."
"Oh I think I might..." Creedy said as he worked at Inzema's pants, revealing him still fully functioning and affected by the succubus."
Inzema heard a pop, followed by another, then another. Very small, almost unnoticeable. The sound of his equipment being taken away by the recall devices he had linked to Ikai in his lab. He smiled. That's a good girl. I win. "No, no I don't think you will," he told the gnome, sounding more cocky than ever. "Sssee, I've been playing nissse. I hasss. But now you're talking 'bout thingsss that really matter. I wasss gonna tell you ssstuff."
Creedy growled at Inzema. "You still are."
"Nope!"
"Very well," Creedy said. The heat from his Knife was pulsing near Inzema's member. The spectators continued to talk, and Inzema heard the warlock dismiss her succubus. Inzema called the shadows, washing away faerie fire and druid roots. He cackled at Creedy. He felt the familiar pull of temporal anomalies forming behind him, preparing his escape.
Creedy shook his head, and removed his goggles. He blinked, but he was too focused to let anomalies distract him. One more attempt he thought. Creedy moved forward, and pressed the plasma blade between Inzema's legs. "A flick and you lose it. Don’t make me make a eunuch out of you. Just answer me straight; where is the location of the Grim operations in dealing with the device involving the schematics you stole from me?”
Inzema laughed and leaned closer to Creedy. "It'sss all over...your mom!"
Janaelle blinked incredulously at Inzema's response while Inzema only cackled as a wormhole opened behind him and sucked him into it. Creedy swept the blade up, but it was fractions too slow to catch Inzema as he disappeared, leaving Creedy to slice at air. Creedy began to swear. He stabbed the blade into the stone column, and left it sizzling in the rock. He kicked the base of the column, and grumbled.
Trigin blinks, "What just happened?"
Janaelle takes a half-step forward, frowning, "How...?"
Janaelle blinked and gave Creedy a confused look. "Creedy, how did that happen?" she said at the same time Trigin asked"I thought we removed everything he had? I checked him twice and the guard must have checked him as well."
Creedy pulled the goggles back over his head only to see the dissapearing effects of a wormhole. He began to tap digits quickly, ignoring the questions, but mumbling something about a minituized portal. "Could have hidden it within his body," he muttered. "Forsaken often do that...Damn. I might have been able to trace the ley lines to a location if I had kept my goggles on..."
Janaelle looks disgusted, "And we're back to where we were then..."
"I have a 1/8 chance to open the correct ley portal.... I think we need a tracker. He isn't going far with a missing leg," Creedy said as he tapped a few more buttons and created a portal.
"I will try one. Trigin... Janaelle... Head to Dalaran and see if Storm Peaks or Icecrown has one legged snow tracks." The gnome turned and began walking into the blue glow of his portal.
Trigin put out a hand, beckoning for the disappearing gnome. "Hang on there Creedy," he said, a little too late.
Janaelle nodded to Creedy. "I'll take Icecrown," Janaelle said, triggering her own portal-creating device.
Trigin fumed, exhaling smoke. "Damn it! I expect to be paid for this!"
Janaelle snickered at Trigin and stepped through her own portal.
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
Inzema dropped from the blue portal in his lab, the rough stone walls lined with veins of pulsing blue energy a welcome change from the worked stone of the Stockades. Above him stood a bronze skinned elf with red glowing eyes wearing simple yet expensive looking robes. His blonde hair was so long that it hung thickly braided to his feet. Inzema grinned at the elf, though he didn't make any other move. "You do realize that we are more than even now, right, Inzema," said the elf, his voice thrumming with contained power. "Yeah, I know, Azrudormu. Shame, really. I was hoping to use that favor for when my time came, but some things are worse than death," Inzema said with a weary laugh. The burn where his calf had been severed was mostly healed, and it would be a pain to regrow the leg. Inzema worked his way to a sitting position and looked down at his stump. "Guess I'mma need a peg leg for a bit, huh?" The elf shook his head and sighed. He placed a hand on the undead's shoulder. "Probably. Take care of yourself." Inzema grinned up at the elf. "What am I good at?" "Getting into trouble." "Other than that." The elf laughed and patted Inzema on the shoulder one more time before turning away. He gestured into the air, summoning arcane power. For the briefest moment before he disappeared, the image of a large bronze dragon could be seen centered on the elf, nearly filling the room. Inzema sighed and looked back down at his leg again. "This sucks."
"If I can't eat it, ssscrew it, sssell it, or ussse it to blow sssomething up, then what ussse isss it?" ~Inzema
Re: It's all fun and games.
Inzema sat in his lab, tinkering with Cehsneog's intelligence matrix, trying to solve the problem that had plagued him since the mechagnome's creation: its incessant desire to kill him. His goggles hung around his neck, off today because Ikai was acting strangely. She was probably defragmenting her memory stores and the effect was causing pictures and video feeds to play across his vision at random intervals which really played hell on being able to get things done. Most of them were fun memories, though. Like the time that Jul'kah, Grendze, Nika, and Inzema had gone to Stormwind. Blood had flowed in their wake as some of the ghosts of the Grim took to the streets, blades in hand, darting from shadow to shadow. After hiding in the Blue Recluse and injuring several off duty members of the Dusk Watch and Praetorian Guard, they had retreated to the safety of the woods, but it had been one of the few times Inzema had seen Nika shedding blood and laughing about it. She'd had promise...
His mind returning to thoughts of Nika distracted him enough that he zapped his hand with the electro-static weldimafier. Inzema looked down at the burn as it healed and flexed his hand. It had taken a long time and a lot of experimentation to get the formula down that allowed him the benefits of immortality. True, he'd never actually died, but his state was closer to undeath than anything, so he told people he was a dead man. It was one of the many falsehoods he told people about himself, that he lived. Yet another game he played.
His "death" had been a falsehood wrought by the need to build a new life. He had become too infamous and not feared enough in his original life. He had pissed off the wrong people, killed the wrong people, and now those people wanted him dead. He was happy to oblige. He had spent some time as an apothecary and had been working on a potion that would give him immortality. He had been testing it on others, which had produced its fair share of corpses and failures. Finally he felt he had found the proper combination of ingredients. He had just finished the treatment when the mob burst into his lab, screaming profanities at him. They dragged him away from his laboratory and into the town square of what would eventually be called Deathknell, near the tree that stood beside the chapel, where they had created a makeshift gallows by hanging a rope over a particularly sturdy branch and tying it to the harness of one of the stronger horses. The mayor, a fat and balding man, stood atop a makeshift podium of crates to stand above the crowd and red off a list of crimes, each more horrific than the next, few of which Inzema had actually done, and of those he had done, they were exaggerated beyond the actual deed. Once finished, the mayor turned to Inzema, his jowls flapping as he spoke. "Verache Astalon Erikhen, you stand accused of crimes that only a creature inhuman could bring itself to commit. You are sentenced to death by hanging. Do you have any last words?" Inzema smiled up at him, enjoying the attention and sure in his experiment. "Only that your wife was a screamer, fatty!" he cried, drawing new screams of anger from the crowd. They tied the noose around his neck and walked the horse forward.
It wasn't until the noose closed around his neck that Inzema began to have doubts of his experiment. Maybe he wasn't right, maybe he wasn't immortal after all. Either he would die and it would not matter anymore, or he wouldn't. The possibility of death began to loom on his mind as his feet left the ground, and he couldn't stop himself from trying to break free. What if he had been wrong?
The last thought that went through his mind before blackness took him was "I don't want to die."
When he woke up in a shallow grave several hours later, he knew he was successful. He abandoned his name and took a new one.
Ikai chimed from the ceiling in the present. "What are you thinking about, dear?" Inzema blinked and looked up to the ceiling, vaguely in the vicinity of Ikai's data core. He shrugged. "Not much, why?" "I finished my analysis of data and have decided that you are suffering from some odd emotional effects. You haven't been very active recently, especially in Stormwind, which you used to go frequently, and every time I flashed a photo of that woman you turned, you smiled unconsciously. You aren't being very you, dear." Inzema blinked again and cackled. "You're experimenting on me, honey?" "Of course, dear." "Sneaky knife, you is, honey." "Thank you, dear." Inzema set down the weldimafier and slipped on his goggles. "Going out, honey. Gonna go play." "Of course, dear. Orgrimmar?" "Nah, Stormwind. Bit hungry." "Teleporter prepping, dear."
Inzema stepped on the pad and disappeared in a flash of light.
His mind returning to thoughts of Nika distracted him enough that he zapped his hand with the electro-static weldimafier. Inzema looked down at the burn as it healed and flexed his hand. It had taken a long time and a lot of experimentation to get the formula down that allowed him the benefits of immortality. True, he'd never actually died, but his state was closer to undeath than anything, so he told people he was a dead man. It was one of the many falsehoods he told people about himself, that he lived. Yet another game he played.
His "death" had been a falsehood wrought by the need to build a new life. He had become too infamous and not feared enough in his original life. He had pissed off the wrong people, killed the wrong people, and now those people wanted him dead. He was happy to oblige. He had spent some time as an apothecary and had been working on a potion that would give him immortality. He had been testing it on others, which had produced its fair share of corpses and failures. Finally he felt he had found the proper combination of ingredients. He had just finished the treatment when the mob burst into his lab, screaming profanities at him. They dragged him away from his laboratory and into the town square of what would eventually be called Deathknell, near the tree that stood beside the chapel, where they had created a makeshift gallows by hanging a rope over a particularly sturdy branch and tying it to the harness of one of the stronger horses. The mayor, a fat and balding man, stood atop a makeshift podium of crates to stand above the crowd and red off a list of crimes, each more horrific than the next, few of which Inzema had actually done, and of those he had done, they were exaggerated beyond the actual deed. Once finished, the mayor turned to Inzema, his jowls flapping as he spoke. "Verache Astalon Erikhen, you stand accused of crimes that only a creature inhuman could bring itself to commit. You are sentenced to death by hanging. Do you have any last words?" Inzema smiled up at him, enjoying the attention and sure in his experiment. "Only that your wife was a screamer, fatty!" he cried, drawing new screams of anger from the crowd. They tied the noose around his neck and walked the horse forward.
It wasn't until the noose closed around his neck that Inzema began to have doubts of his experiment. Maybe he wasn't right, maybe he wasn't immortal after all. Either he would die and it would not matter anymore, or he wouldn't. The possibility of death began to loom on his mind as his feet left the ground, and he couldn't stop himself from trying to break free. What if he had been wrong?
The last thought that went through his mind before blackness took him was "I don't want to die."
When he woke up in a shallow grave several hours later, he knew he was successful. He abandoned his name and took a new one.
Ikai chimed from the ceiling in the present. "What are you thinking about, dear?" Inzema blinked and looked up to the ceiling, vaguely in the vicinity of Ikai's data core. He shrugged. "Not much, why?" "I finished my analysis of data and have decided that you are suffering from some odd emotional effects. You haven't been very active recently, especially in Stormwind, which you used to go frequently, and every time I flashed a photo of that woman you turned, you smiled unconsciously. You aren't being very you, dear." Inzema blinked again and cackled. "You're experimenting on me, honey?" "Of course, dear." "Sneaky knife, you is, honey." "Thank you, dear." Inzema set down the weldimafier and slipped on his goggles. "Going out, honey. Gonna go play." "Of course, dear. Orgrimmar?" "Nah, Stormwind. Bit hungry." "Teleporter prepping, dear."
Inzema stepped on the pad and disappeared in a flash of light.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
Marcus Jaxon was having a rough day. A bar brawl in Old Town had turned ugly when a dwarf stabbed a worgen in its human form. The worgen, as most do when attacked, shed its human skin for the wolf and ripped the dwarf in half. It only escalated from there. The entire squad of Thief-Catchers had been called in along with a platoon of guards to quell the riot. Fortunately, no deaths other than the dwarf were logged, but with the worgen under lock and key, the worgen embassy was pressing for released based on self defense. It was over his head, but it was still a pain in the ass because they chose to talk to him instead of the people that mattered.
Marcus was about to tell the worgen ambassador where he could put his opinions of the Stormwind justice system when a man in ragged red leather armor stormed into the office, pushed past the worgen ambassador, and dropped a sack onto Marcus' desk. He sported a shock of wild black hair and a goatee, his eyes bloodshot and feral. The ambassador snarled at the newcomer. The newcomer returned the ambassador's gaze, a deep growl bubbling from his throat, continuing until the ambassador backed down, lowering his head and looking away. Marcus released the grip on his sword he hadn't realized he had grabbed. He looked into the sack, keeping one eye on the two men.
Inside the sack was a head.
Marcus stood and dumped the sack out on his desk, drawing his sword with the other hand. The severed head bounced slightly upon the finished mahogany, viscous grey-red fluid dripping from the stump. The features were severely marred by a massive hole that pierced the head through and through, destroying one eye and altering the general shape of the head, but they were still recognizable. The mouth was curled into a lecherous sneer, teeth remeniscient of a shark, all filed to points and long since stained with blood. The skin was pale, though the area around the wounds were run through with grey veins. The head was shaved bald save at the crest, topped by a stripe of green hair. The one remaining eye was entirely black. Marcus did not have to look at the wanted board behind him to know the thing that had owned these features.
Marcus looked to the newcomer, ignoring the cringing ambassador. "How did you come by this?" he said, knuckles tightening on the hilt of his blade. The newcomer turned his bestial gaze upon Marcus, and despite himself, he flinched slightly. The newcomer revealed fangs of his own, more wolf than human, though it couldn't be said that it was a smile. "I laid bait, I waited, and when he took the bait..." He pointed a finger at Marcus, held as if on a trigger. He mimiced pulling a trigger and firing a gun. Marcus stared at the man incredulously. The man spat, hitting the head square in the wound, then turned to leave.
"Don't you want the reward?" Marcus said, releasing his sword for the second time in as many minutes. The man in red snarled and whirled, visibly on the brink of transformation. "Will the reward fix what he did? Will it bring him back so I can kill him again?" He paused, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing, the visage of the beast receding. "Keep your stinking reward." He turned and stormed back through the door to the office, leaving Marcus behind with the cowed ambassador. The ambassador suddenly remembered a pressing appointment elsewhere and excused himself, leaving the lead Thief-Catcher with his thoughts.
Marcus was about to tell the worgen ambassador where he could put his opinions of the Stormwind justice system when a man in ragged red leather armor stormed into the office, pushed past the worgen ambassador, and dropped a sack onto Marcus' desk. He sported a shock of wild black hair and a goatee, his eyes bloodshot and feral. The ambassador snarled at the newcomer. The newcomer returned the ambassador's gaze, a deep growl bubbling from his throat, continuing until the ambassador backed down, lowering his head and looking away. Marcus released the grip on his sword he hadn't realized he had grabbed. He looked into the sack, keeping one eye on the two men.
Inside the sack was a head.
Marcus stood and dumped the sack out on his desk, drawing his sword with the other hand. The severed head bounced slightly upon the finished mahogany, viscous grey-red fluid dripping from the stump. The features were severely marred by a massive hole that pierced the head through and through, destroying one eye and altering the general shape of the head, but they were still recognizable. The mouth was curled into a lecherous sneer, teeth remeniscient of a shark, all filed to points and long since stained with blood. The skin was pale, though the area around the wounds were run through with grey veins. The head was shaved bald save at the crest, topped by a stripe of green hair. The one remaining eye was entirely black. Marcus did not have to look at the wanted board behind him to know the thing that had owned these features.
Marcus looked to the newcomer, ignoring the cringing ambassador. "How did you come by this?" he said, knuckles tightening on the hilt of his blade. The newcomer turned his bestial gaze upon Marcus, and despite himself, he flinched slightly. The newcomer revealed fangs of his own, more wolf than human, though it couldn't be said that it was a smile. "I laid bait, I waited, and when he took the bait..." He pointed a finger at Marcus, held as if on a trigger. He mimiced pulling a trigger and firing a gun. Marcus stared at the man incredulously. The man spat, hitting the head square in the wound, then turned to leave.
"Don't you want the reward?" Marcus said, releasing his sword for the second time in as many minutes. The man in red snarled and whirled, visibly on the brink of transformation. "Will the reward fix what he did? Will it bring him back so I can kill him again?" He paused, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing, the visage of the beast receding. "Keep your stinking reward." He turned and stormed back through the door to the office, leaving Marcus behind with the cowed ambassador. The ambassador suddenly remembered a pressing appointment elsewhere and excused himself, leaving the lead Thief-Catcher with his thoughts.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
Kate Conelley was tasked with updating the wanted boards. New ones going up, old ones going down. It was the Thief-Catcher's week to do it. She checked the list and a particular name caught her attention. "Inzema, AKA Stormwind Slasher. Deceased." Her mind raced back to her encounter with the creature, for nothingthat evil could have ever held the title person. She smiled and pulled his likeness from the board and crumpled it up. She pitched the ball of paper at the nearest guardsman. "Locksley, first drink's on me." The bewildered guardsman watched after the Thief-Catcher as she skipped off.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
Qarosimae had not been particularly active recently. Each morning she would wake, go on a run along the cliffs of Orgrimmar before dawn, and return to her sanctum as the sun rose. She was working on deciphering a particularly obscure bit of Drakkari lore from an old stone tablet she had recovered from one of the temples, and the difference between this older dialect of Drakkari and the current Zandalari was proving difficult to wrap her head around. Some time during the morning, Berk would bring her breakfast. In the afternoon he would bring her lunch. In the evening they would spar and go over arcane theory. Berk was much better at arcane magic than fire or frost, Qarosimae's own specialties, and he was more apt to swordplay as well. The normalcy and the predictability suited Qarosimae, as did the relative solitude.
This morning was different. After her morning run, she returned to her sanctum, sweaty as usual. She could smell the bath already prepared. She began walking down the hall, stripping her work out attire as she walked, when a faint blue light flickered in front of her. Qarosimae immediately called up a barrier of ice around her, readying her mind for battle. The light resolved into the image of the Artificial Intelligence, Ikai. Qarosimae, while not very familiar with Inzema's AI, was familiar with the description that Inzema had given her of her holographic form. Had she not been busy with other projects, she might have taken the time to investigate why it was that the device had spontaneously developed a personality and its own unique avatar.
The AI looked frantic, and this did not put Qarosmae at ease at all. "Q, you've got to help. Inzema's gone dark," Ikai said, wringing her virtual hands and looking like she was on the verge of tears. Qarosimae made a mental note to eventually figure out how real the thing's emotions were. "What do you mean "dark?"" she responded, dropping the barrier, the arcane frost fading into the air. She looked around for a transmission device, not immediately finding any, and made another mental note to figure out how the AI was projecting into her sanctum. She decided to ignore these thoughts for now to resume her morning routine, as her bath would not stay warm forever. She walked down the hallway, through the projection, and continued into the bathroom. She tested the waters with a finger, found them to her liking, and finished stripping. She slipped into the bath, and only then did she look to see if the AI had followed her. It had, and was looking irritated and distressed now.
"Dark, as in his goggles, which typically maintain a constant link to my mainframe, have ceased transmitting. They have been so for thirty-five hours, five minutes, twenty-eight seconds and counting. The last transmission infers an abnormal motion of the head consistant with impact and the device being shut off. As the goggles are Inzema's primary means of communication with me, they are programmed to teleport to the laboratory if removed for more than five minutes. They have yet to do so. I believe Inzema is in serious trouble, and protocol dictates I wait for forty-eight hours before I contact anyone for help, but he has never gone dark this long and I am worried and you have to help."
Qarosimae sunk deeper into the bath, until her lips were below the water. She blew into the water, making bubbles on the surface. She looked up at the AI, watching with interest as the virtual woman displayed emotions like a person might. It made her wonder how Inzema had managed to create it. Probably by accident. She pushed herself back above the surface of the water.
"Where was he when he went dark?" "Outside of Stormwind." Qarosimae sighed. Her project was going to be derailed. Her routine derailed. She told him so. "Give me an hour to prepare," Qarosimae said before sinking beneath the surface of the water. This was going to be a pain.
This morning was different. After her morning run, she returned to her sanctum, sweaty as usual. She could smell the bath already prepared. She began walking down the hall, stripping her work out attire as she walked, when a faint blue light flickered in front of her. Qarosimae immediately called up a barrier of ice around her, readying her mind for battle. The light resolved into the image of the Artificial Intelligence, Ikai. Qarosimae, while not very familiar with Inzema's AI, was familiar with the description that Inzema had given her of her holographic form. Had she not been busy with other projects, she might have taken the time to investigate why it was that the device had spontaneously developed a personality and its own unique avatar.
The AI looked frantic, and this did not put Qarosmae at ease at all. "Q, you've got to help. Inzema's gone dark," Ikai said, wringing her virtual hands and looking like she was on the verge of tears. Qarosimae made a mental note to eventually figure out how real the thing's emotions were. "What do you mean "dark?"" she responded, dropping the barrier, the arcane frost fading into the air. She looked around for a transmission device, not immediately finding any, and made another mental note to figure out how the AI was projecting into her sanctum. She decided to ignore these thoughts for now to resume her morning routine, as her bath would not stay warm forever. She walked down the hallway, through the projection, and continued into the bathroom. She tested the waters with a finger, found them to her liking, and finished stripping. She slipped into the bath, and only then did she look to see if the AI had followed her. It had, and was looking irritated and distressed now.
"Dark, as in his goggles, which typically maintain a constant link to my mainframe, have ceased transmitting. They have been so for thirty-five hours, five minutes, twenty-eight seconds and counting. The last transmission infers an abnormal motion of the head consistant with impact and the device being shut off. As the goggles are Inzema's primary means of communication with me, they are programmed to teleport to the laboratory if removed for more than five minutes. They have yet to do so. I believe Inzema is in serious trouble, and protocol dictates I wait for forty-eight hours before I contact anyone for help, but he has never gone dark this long and I am worried and you have to help."
Qarosimae sunk deeper into the bath, until her lips were below the water. She blew into the water, making bubbles on the surface. She looked up at the AI, watching with interest as the virtual woman displayed emotions like a person might. It made her wonder how Inzema had managed to create it. Probably by accident. She pushed herself back above the surface of the water.
"Where was he when he went dark?" "Outside of Stormwind." Qarosimae sighed. Her project was going to be derailed. Her routine derailed. She told him so. "Give me an hour to prepare," Qarosimae said before sinking beneath the surface of the water. This was going to be a pain.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
Qarosimae landed outside of Stormwind in the woods of Elwynn, her phoenix shrinking to the size of a hatchling and perching on her shoulder when she touched the ground. She pulled her cloak around her tighter, not because of the temperature, but because of the nervous thought that an arrow might be aimed at her back. The reds and oranges she typically wore bled their color, turning brown and green to better blend with the trees she walked through, and a similar illusion changed her features to appear less elven, more human. The earring that housed her hearthstone hummed momentarily before resloving into Ikai's voice. "He last transmitted from a location approximately a hundred meters from your location." Qarosimae adjusted her face mask and sighed. She headed into the woods in the direction Ikai had said.
After her bath, she had eventually found the transmitting device Ikai had used to project into the sanctum. It was a small disc the size of a coin. Qarosimae had attuned it to her hearthstone and left for Stormwind. Now she was tromping around in enemy territory, looking for someone too dumb to keep their head down after stirring up the hornet's nest.
After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Qarosimae stepped into a clearing. The reason for Inzema's disappearance became immediately clear.
In the middle of the clearing there was a large area where the grass, green elsewhere, had been turned greyish red. Bits of flesh and black leather armor was scattered here and there within the clearing, and on the trunk of a tree on the far end of the clearing, nailed to the tree with a pair of familiar knives, was a familiar tabard. It was stained in blood of so many colors that the black was more brown, but the red skull and daggers still dominated the face of the tabard.
Qarosimae felt the impact on her knees but did not remember falling. The tabard was before her now, within reach. Her eyes were transfixed on the tabard. She had been worried, slightly, for his well being, but it had never crossed her mind that it would be so bad.
"Qarosimae? What do you see? Your breathing has become erratic." Ikai began to sound frantic. Qarosimae touched the tabard, feeling the cloth between gloved fingers, assuring herself it was real. "Qarosimae?" The tabard did not fade away at her touch. "Qarosimae?"
"I think he's gone, Ikai. It looks bad."
After her bath, she had eventually found the transmitting device Ikai had used to project into the sanctum. It was a small disc the size of a coin. Qarosimae had attuned it to her hearthstone and left for Stormwind. Now she was tromping around in enemy territory, looking for someone too dumb to keep their head down after stirring up the hornet's nest.
After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Qarosimae stepped into a clearing. The reason for Inzema's disappearance became immediately clear.
In the middle of the clearing there was a large area where the grass, green elsewhere, had been turned greyish red. Bits of flesh and black leather armor was scattered here and there within the clearing, and on the trunk of a tree on the far end of the clearing, nailed to the tree with a pair of familiar knives, was a familiar tabard. It was stained in blood of so many colors that the black was more brown, but the red skull and daggers still dominated the face of the tabard.
Qarosimae felt the impact on her knees but did not remember falling. The tabard was before her now, within reach. Her eyes were transfixed on the tabard. She had been worried, slightly, for his well being, but it had never crossed her mind that it would be so bad.
"Qarosimae? What do you see? Your breathing has become erratic." Ikai began to sound frantic. Qarosimae touched the tabard, feeling the cloth between gloved fingers, assuring herself it was real. "Qarosimae?" The tabard did not fade away at her touch. "Qarosimae?"
"I think he's gone, Ikai. It looks bad."
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
Marcus Jaxon relaxed in the comfort of his home, a half empty wine glass in one hand, the other resting on his wife's shoulder as she slept, head resting on his lap. A fire burned in the fireplace, the smell of wood smoke adding an accent to the lingering smell of the roast that she had prepared for dinner. He was more relaxed than he had been in a long time. The ever present tension from worrying if today would be the day that the Slasher had decided to kill his wife while he was away was gone, for the bastard was dead. His body was probably in a ditch somewhere, and his head was in custody. While there were still things to worry about, one great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and for now, he was at peace.
It didn't last, of course. There was still a bit of wine at the bottom of the glass when a knock came from the door. Marcus sighed and set the glass down on the end table before carefully working his way from beneath his wife so that he did not disturb her sleep. When he stood, she did not stir. He watched her for a moment, a content smile on his face, before the knocking came again. He sighed and walked carefully to the door, bare feet treading silently. He opened it to find a woman in green and brown robes. Her blue eyes had a look of severity to them, intensified by the thin-framed glasses she wore. Her remaining features were hidden behind a mask and beneath a hood. While she had the look of a mage or a druid, she also carried a thin bladed sword bereft of ornamentation and, judging by the hilt, one that had seen a bit of use. She was unfamiliar to Marcus, and this put him on edge. He glanced behind her, determining the time of day and relaxed, knowing that there was a patrol nearby at this time of day.
"Officer Jaxon, I am called Sandra Coldsnap. I understand you were the officer in charge of receiving the remains of the creature known as Inzema. I realize that now is probably not the best time, but I will be leaving Stormwind soon, and my schedule is not open to much deviation, so now was what time I could manage." Her voice was composed, her accent odd. She wasn't from Stormwind, her accent made her sound like she had learned common from a Draenei. Certainly an odd accent from someone that appeared human. Marcus glanced back at his wife before stepping outside and closing the door behind him, so that their voices would not disturb her.
"I received the remains, yes. Why?" he said, eyeing the woman carefully. She did not appear to intend him harm, so unlikely an associate, minion, or accomplice of Inzema. She shifted her weight to her left foot, appearing uncomfortable. She removed her hood and mask, revealing the face of a middle aged brunette with streaks of grey through her hair. Immediately, Marcus noted a bit of a resemblance between Inzema and the woman. He schooled away the surprise and concern.
"I was hoping you could arrange to have the remains released to me to be returned to our family plot. He was once my brother, and while I do not condone the pain and suffering he caused in death, I owe it to our parents, Light rest their souls, to keep the family together." She paused and adjusted her glasses, taking a moment to school herself. "If it is possible, I mean."
Marcus frowned and pulled at his beard, considering. It shouldn't be a problem to release the remains. Even the best necromancers were typically thwarted when it came to reraising the dead when all you had was the head. Added to the fact that it had been undead already meant that it was near impossible, the only being ever with that much power over the dead, the Lich King, was dead. He would have to send it up the chain, but it should be fine. "When do you leave Stormwind?"
"Three days from now."
"I will see what I can do. Come by before you leave," he said, tugging on his beard again. "Sorry for your loss, by the way."
The woman snorted and pulled her face mask over her nose again. "He has been dead for years. It is only now, however, that I can lay his body to rest." Marcus nodded, watching as she walked away. The door opened behind him, soft arms wrapped around his waist, and a head rested against his back. "Who was that?" his wife said, sleep heavy in her voice. The woman disappeared around the corner. Marcus rested his hands on his wife's arms. "Her brother was the Slasher. She wants to give him a proper burial." She murmured something into his back. He shrugged and disengaged himself from her arms. He turned, picked her up, and kissed her forehead. "Let's go to bed."
It didn't last, of course. There was still a bit of wine at the bottom of the glass when a knock came from the door. Marcus sighed and set the glass down on the end table before carefully working his way from beneath his wife so that he did not disturb her sleep. When he stood, she did not stir. He watched her for a moment, a content smile on his face, before the knocking came again. He sighed and walked carefully to the door, bare feet treading silently. He opened it to find a woman in green and brown robes. Her blue eyes had a look of severity to them, intensified by the thin-framed glasses she wore. Her remaining features were hidden behind a mask and beneath a hood. While she had the look of a mage or a druid, she also carried a thin bladed sword bereft of ornamentation and, judging by the hilt, one that had seen a bit of use. She was unfamiliar to Marcus, and this put him on edge. He glanced behind her, determining the time of day and relaxed, knowing that there was a patrol nearby at this time of day.
"Officer Jaxon, I am called Sandra Coldsnap. I understand you were the officer in charge of receiving the remains of the creature known as Inzema. I realize that now is probably not the best time, but I will be leaving Stormwind soon, and my schedule is not open to much deviation, so now was what time I could manage." Her voice was composed, her accent odd. She wasn't from Stormwind, her accent made her sound like she had learned common from a Draenei. Certainly an odd accent from someone that appeared human. Marcus glanced back at his wife before stepping outside and closing the door behind him, so that their voices would not disturb her.
"I received the remains, yes. Why?" he said, eyeing the woman carefully. She did not appear to intend him harm, so unlikely an associate, minion, or accomplice of Inzema. She shifted her weight to her left foot, appearing uncomfortable. She removed her hood and mask, revealing the face of a middle aged brunette with streaks of grey through her hair. Immediately, Marcus noted a bit of a resemblance between Inzema and the woman. He schooled away the surprise and concern.
"I was hoping you could arrange to have the remains released to me to be returned to our family plot. He was once my brother, and while I do not condone the pain and suffering he caused in death, I owe it to our parents, Light rest their souls, to keep the family together." She paused and adjusted her glasses, taking a moment to school herself. "If it is possible, I mean."
Marcus frowned and pulled at his beard, considering. It shouldn't be a problem to release the remains. Even the best necromancers were typically thwarted when it came to reraising the dead when all you had was the head. Added to the fact that it had been undead already meant that it was near impossible, the only being ever with that much power over the dead, the Lich King, was dead. He would have to send it up the chain, but it should be fine. "When do you leave Stormwind?"
"Three days from now."
"I will see what I can do. Come by before you leave," he said, tugging on his beard again. "Sorry for your loss, by the way."
The woman snorted and pulled her face mask over her nose again. "He has been dead for years. It is only now, however, that I can lay his body to rest." Marcus nodded, watching as she walked away. The door opened behind him, soft arms wrapped around his waist, and a head rested against his back. "Who was that?" his wife said, sleep heavy in her voice. The woman disappeared around the corner. Marcus rested his hands on his wife's arms. "Her brother was the Slasher. She wants to give him a proper burial." She murmured something into his back. He shrugged and disengaged himself from her arms. He turned, picked her up, and kissed her forehead. "Let's go to bed."
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."
Re: It's all fun and games.
Marcus Jaxon was waiting outside of the Stormwind guard garrison early in the morning on a Tuesday. Beside him stood a paladin, there by request. The paladin was a large man encased in white plate that glimmered a bloody red in the morning sun. His two-handed sword was resting with the point of its inscribed blade an inch into stone, his gauntlet encased hands resting calmly on the pommel. The box containing Inzema's head rested at Marcus' feet. It had been relatively easy to convince the brass to allow the return of the head, considering it was just a head (and not a whole one at that) and not a body, to the family. There had been a question from the SI:7 director about the woman, who did not have a file in SI:7 on Sandra Coldsnap, more than likely an alias, but nothing else had come up. Instructions had been given that the head was to be purged with the Holy Light and reduced to ash to further prevent any resurrection.
At precisely the time she had been given, Sandra dropped from the sky into view. Marcus watched as mere feet from the ground she slowed to a near stand still, touching down lightly as if she had taken a step from a carriage. She wore similar robes to what she had worn previously, now featuring gold trim where the green and brown met. Upon touching down, she smoothed her robes and adjusted her glasses. "Officer Jaxon, good morning. I did not take you as one to keep a bodyguard."
Marcus shrugged, pretending to not be amused at her entrance. He couldn't see from where she had fallen, nor what she may have fallen from, but it was probable that she had dropped intentionally from a flying mount that adventurers were so fond of using these days. It certainly made the skies over Stormwind a bit busy. "Richard was tasked with fulfilling the additional requirements by Brass to return your brother's head to you."
Sandra's right eyebrow arched, but her stance did not change. "Additional requirements?"
Marcus nodded. "Brass says after you ID the remains, I gotta purge and incinerate it." Sandra nodded her consent. The mask prevented any accurate read of her opinion on the matter, but she didn't seem to mind. Marcus crouched, picked up the box, and removed the top. He held out the box towards the mage, allowing her a few moments to look inside. Her reaction was just as absent as to everything else, simply cold. An accurate moniker, Coldsnap. She nodded to Marcus. "That is him, thank you." Her voice betrayed nothing, either, not even revulsion from the gory state of the head. Marcus held the box back towards the paladin, who lifted one hand from the hilt of his blade and held it over the box. He murmured a quiet prayer, an unseen breeze stirring his cloak. Light gathered in his hand and coursed into the box, creating a small fire as the head reacted to the energy. After a moment, the paladin stopped praying, nodded, and lifted his sword to one shoulder. "It is done. Light be with you." Marcus echoed the farewell, noting that Sandra did not. Interesting, though likely irrelevant. Not many magi were religious.
As the paladin left, Marcus closed the lid of the box. He offered it to Sandra, who took it carefully and tucked it into a sack. "Thank you, officer, for this. Be well and happy." Marcus nodded, watching calmly as she ripped a hole in space and time with a gesture. He glimpsed a bit of Shattrath through the portal as she disappeared through and the rift closed. He tugged on his beard and walked back into the office to work on catching another of the far too many dangerous criminals wanted by Stormwind.
At precisely the time she had been given, Sandra dropped from the sky into view. Marcus watched as mere feet from the ground she slowed to a near stand still, touching down lightly as if she had taken a step from a carriage. She wore similar robes to what she had worn previously, now featuring gold trim where the green and brown met. Upon touching down, she smoothed her robes and adjusted her glasses. "Officer Jaxon, good morning. I did not take you as one to keep a bodyguard."
Marcus shrugged, pretending to not be amused at her entrance. He couldn't see from where she had fallen, nor what she may have fallen from, but it was probable that she had dropped intentionally from a flying mount that adventurers were so fond of using these days. It certainly made the skies over Stormwind a bit busy. "Richard was tasked with fulfilling the additional requirements by Brass to return your brother's head to you."
Sandra's right eyebrow arched, but her stance did not change. "Additional requirements?"
Marcus nodded. "Brass says after you ID the remains, I gotta purge and incinerate it." Sandra nodded her consent. The mask prevented any accurate read of her opinion on the matter, but she didn't seem to mind. Marcus crouched, picked up the box, and removed the top. He held out the box towards the mage, allowing her a few moments to look inside. Her reaction was just as absent as to everything else, simply cold. An accurate moniker, Coldsnap. She nodded to Marcus. "That is him, thank you." Her voice betrayed nothing, either, not even revulsion from the gory state of the head. Marcus held the box back towards the paladin, who lifted one hand from the hilt of his blade and held it over the box. He murmured a quiet prayer, an unseen breeze stirring his cloak. Light gathered in his hand and coursed into the box, creating a small fire as the head reacted to the energy. After a moment, the paladin stopped praying, nodded, and lifted his sword to one shoulder. "It is done. Light be with you." Marcus echoed the farewell, noting that Sandra did not. Interesting, though likely irrelevant. Not many magi were religious.
As the paladin left, Marcus closed the lid of the box. He offered it to Sandra, who took it carefully and tucked it into a sack. "Thank you, officer, for this. Be well and happy." Marcus nodded, watching calmly as she ripped a hole in space and time with a gesture. He glimpsed a bit of Shattrath through the portal as she disappeared through and the rift closed. He tugged on his beard and walked back into the office to work on catching another of the far too many dangerous criminals wanted by Stormwind.
"Perfection is my goal. Stand in my way if you dare."