A Simple Letter by Qabian

[Keeper Of Lore]

Lady Acherontia,

I am currently embroiled in a situation that perhaps you may be of some help with.

I would ask the Dreadmage, or perhaps Pincus, but something tells methis may require a woman's touch, and of the Grim's warlocks, youseemed the best option to approach at this time.

I will attempt to be brief.

I was passing through Ashenvale on my way north on my own business whenthe calls went out that Splintertree was under attack. There was awarlock there, a human woman, doing what humans and warlocks are wontto do, sowing destruction. I should have bested her easily, but she hadmanaged to dispatch with too many guards, I suppose. And she is noordinary warlock.

I warn you of that now, in case you should decide to do something rash.She managed to summon and work with multiple demons, has a strangeability to manipulate her own flesh and bone to disastrous effect, andhas apparently been learning the shadow arts of mind control.

Thankfully, at the time, the Dawnspire girl was still tailing me like alost puppy. The blood knight saved my life, but not before the warlockmanaged to take something from me. It wasn't by the usual sequence ofsuch things, either, and she has been using it to torment me ever since.

You may recall the alert I posted to the Grim not long ago, asking forthe death of one Barov, Shigana? Yes, the fool demon caller was stupidenough to manage a way to speak Thalassian and tell me her name at thetime of our encounter.

I admit to knowing little of the ways of warlocks. Demonic mastery hasalways seemed far more risk than reward, especially seeing how thosewho took to its study in Dalaran tended to end up. However, yourattitude towards your succubus hints to me that you may have someunderstanding of the risks you take every day, even if I personallythink continuing to do so to be incredibly imprudent. Whatever thehuman has done, it is not usual.

I have asked the Grim to hunt her, and recently I have offeredrecompense to the Cartel after her head on a platter as well, but it ispossible she hides too well for such general tracking. Given some ofthe things this woman has attempted to use me to do, I thought perhapsit was time to approach another warlock directly. Perhaps there is someway to trace what she has taken from me? Perhaps there is some way toforce her into a trap?

If you have any ideas at all on this matter, I would certainly be gladto hear of them. The fact that this human is still in possession of anypart of me is a most extreme irritant, and I would do almost anythingto have this matter concluded to my satisfaction.

Selama ashal'anore, warlock,

Qabian Amberlight

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Acherontia

The tiny warlock leaned against the damp wall near the mailbox, the green fel-fire in her hollow eyes flickering intermittently as she scanned the flowing script. "Barov," she muttered to herself, folding the letter and placing it in an inner pocket of her robe. "Shigana Barov."

The discordant jangles of the clock tolled the hour, and Acherontia swore under her breath. Less than four hours until she was to enter the Ivory Tower, and there was much still for her to do. She would answer the mage's letter when she had the time. The warlock stepped away from the wall into the flow of Forsaken that clogged the streets of the Undercity, replacing her heavy glove and banishing the green flames from her eye sockets as she spoke an incantation in a low voice.

The air in front of Acherontia shimmered with a purple glow. With a crack like thunder, the demon exploded from the portal, kicking up divots of flame as his hooves struck the stones - several passers-by shrieked and flattened themselves against the walls as the dreadsteed wheeled about on his hind legs, turning to face his mistress.

The warlock breathed deeply of the demon's sulphurous stench, lifting her chin proudly as he snorted and pawed the ground. "Ruin," Acherontia whispered, and the demon-horse lowered his armored head, kneeling on his front legs so the tiny Forsaken could climb onto his back. Her robes billowed as she swung a leg over him and tangled her fingers in the fiery tendrils of his mane.

Ruin needed no command from his mistress. Rising to his full height, the demon-horse screamed, a shrill, neighing sound, before rearing up on his hind legs and thundering through the tunnels of the Undercity.

Barov...

Dreadweaver,

I am certainly willing to aid you.

You told me once that you have chosen to study the powers of fire. From what I have seen of you, you are not one to do things to half-measures, so I can only assume that you have mastered that power to its fullest. My strengths lie in shadow and corruption; I have eschewed the study of demons and fire in order to immerse myself in what the shadow has to offer me. This Barov girl, however - you said she summoned multiple demons, manipulated her own flesh and bones, and exhibited some study of mind control.

Therein lies her weakness. She is nothing more than a clown, a juggler who is attempting to keep too many items in the air, disaster always a fraction of a breath away. Why have you not devoted more of your studies to the arcane? Because you would not have been able to maintain the same amount of control and mastery over the flame. Why is it that you only rarely see a warlock attempting to control more than one demon? Because we know that it is better to have full control of one than to split our attention between two. Control - that is our power. The girl's mind is too fractured to focus properly, too split to access the depths of power that comes through discipline.

Until you tell me what it is that the girl has taken from you, I cannot tell you if tracing it is possible. If, however, you prefer to keep those affairs to yourself, I will employ other methods. My reach is long.

In service,
Atropos Achrerontia
Deathdealer of the Grim

[Keeper Of Lore]

Qabian perused her response. It confirmed he had been right to approachher first. She was more discerning than he had realized.

Shadow? No better than the Light, but... beside the point.

Acherontia was right. The girl must be stretching herself incrediblythin to manage what she was doing. That would also explain why she hadnot shown herself.

He constructed his reply.

You have my thanks. You are incredibly astute, lady warlock. My hopes for finally ending this find a place with you.

I know the importance of control. I also know how easy it is to lose grip on the reins. This does seem key to a solution.

Unfortunately, as I noted, I know little of the workings of shadowmagic, how it is accomplished, and how the results are managed.Generally, I prefer my ignorance, but as a result, my details on whatexactly the witch has or how she is using it are not open to me.

I assume what she has stolen from me is a portion of my soul, butbecause it was taken in the moment before defeat rather than the momentafter, it is still linked to me in a manner that is highly unusual. Istill feel its echo. It is not whole. Perhaps the torn part of the soulI still hold resonates with the piece she took, opening the doors sheis abusing. I assume what she stole took physical form, as stolen soulstend to do, but what it looks like, or if it appears any different fromthe usual shards, I cannot say.

The idea that destroying the physical casing of the soul she rippedfrom me might end this is also an assumption. Perhaps the theft wassimply the impetus for her using other means to do what she is doing.

Turning her nightmares back on her would be eminently preferable, but Iwould certainly be satisfied with simply disabling her, locking herdown, in whatever way is necessary.

Again, my thanks. Obviously, your distance from this lets you think more clearly about it than I am currently capable of doing.

Al diel shala,
~Qabian

[Keeper Of Lore]

Qabian,

These circumstances are highly unusual. I have never before heard of afailed attempt to trap one's soul resulting in a partial capture.Nevertheless, I am not one to tell you that you are mistaken - it hasbeen so long since I have relied on my Fel-sight that I would not evenhave noticed.

As to the matter of destroying the shard - a soul is unbreakable. It isnot fragile like glass; when it congeals into physical form, it cannotbe shattered or destroyed in any way, save for being transformed intosomething else. Even then, after its usefulness has run its course, thesoul still exists. Where it goes then, I do not know.

Unfortunately for us, a warlock cannot access the energy of a soul thathas been captured by another. It is extremely unlikely that I will beable to do anything with the shard once it has been acquired (if iteven exists - again, I have never seen the product of a partialcapture), but that is an obstacle to be overcome later.

I will need to see you in person before I begin searching. I will needto be able to recognize both her and you when I find her. Will it bepossible for you to meet me? Somewhere you will be able to feel at ease- the less tumult there is about you, the easier it will be.

~Acherontia

The warlock folded the letter into thirds and dripped the blue sealingwax over the loose edge. She allowed it to cool for a moment, thenpressed the seal of her signet ring - a staff crossed with a blossom offel lotus - into the center of the wax. She felt a prickling in thehollows of her eyes and swallowed hard as she looked at the ring - agift from Melchisedech, crafted by his own hand. "I miss you," shewhispered softly.

Her work done, Acherontia blinked the fel-fire from her eyes and staredat the empty room with gaping, hollow sockets. There was nothing to seehere, just muted shadows and shapes. The convenience of her sight wouldhave to be forgone for a while - if she was to look on Qabian and seehim, along with whatever she would be able to glean about the nature ofthe Barov girl, she would need to grow accustomed to her shadow-sightonce more.

In her musing, she had absentmindedly spun the signet ring to face herpalm and had begun stroking the seal with the pad of her thumb. With asigh, she replaced her glove and rose from her desk, snuffing out thecandle. After a final look around at her small apartment, Acherontiatucked the letter into the pocket of her robe and walked out the door.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Their discussion over, she told him to stay at the Spire, that it would do him good. She left him with supplies.

He did as she suggested and stood, watching the new Sin'dorei studentsbusy at the tasks Silvermoon set for them, watching the fog roll inover the ocean as it always did.

But as much as he loved this place, and distant memories of the sweetsounds of screams could soothe the frantic pace of his recent thoughts,he doubted he would ever be truly calm again. It would have beenstrange indeed for Quel'dorei to feel so disordered, but with the newway of things, he could only assume that many of his people felt theirminds similarly cluttered and torn in many directions at once. Perhapsit was as much a symptom of the siphoning as any situationaldistractions.

The meditations taught by his Instructors did nothing but irritate himnow. Even the old man had only shortly before recommended confidenceand patience. Qabian had gone to the stacks of the Grim hall to look upthe writings he had been told held the answers to his questions. Amongthem, he found discussions of the possible coming allegiance of theHorde with his people, and the Mistress' words.

If they could be used to further our purposes, I would squeeze everyonce of warm blood out of them, but I would never trust them.

He had smiled to read such. It was good to see his leader did notchange too readily, and that her feelings had been similar to his owneven months before they had ever met. A moment resembling calm, stolenfrom the recorded communications of those in whom he'd placed histrust, soon lost again to recollection of the many tasks at hand.

But Acherontia spoke of manipulation, of steps she could take where hewas unwilling, and treason itself. If she wished to calm his disorderedstate, she chose wrong with those words, and seemed to realize so aftershe spoke them. Her sight, or lack thereof, went beyond his own.

Nevertheless, Qabian's troubles reached far deeper than the singleproblem he shared with her. And serenity was lost the day Kel'thuzadwas reborn, and again the day the Naga became a lifeline, and again theday he fulfilled the final wish of his only friend. There would nevertruly be peace, even with the deaths he sought. There was no room forit anymore. His people had been forced back into the world again, andno matter the appearance of outward calm, no matter the intensity ofthe desire for peace, the universe was only chaos.