A Thing or Two

The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))
Posts: 261
Location: Florida

A Thing or Two

Unread post by Malkaris » Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:18 am

Malkaris never really quite knew what he was going to be up to. Each passing day would bleed into the next without any sort of x variable that would make one stand out beyond another. Idly, he would meander about Zandalari lands, from the Grand Seal to the markets and various little communities that had since washed up on the King's shores.

He was used to flow of things, everything around him flowing like tumultuous rapids, while he on the other hand, glided above, his toes dipping in periodically only to be nibbled on briefly by passing creatures beneath, but never being a part of it. People went off to fight and die, or return, changed by the horrors of war. A cause, Empire, or Kingdom could rise and fall and he would be none the wiser. It's all the same to him as far as he's concerned, for better or worse.

So It would probably surprise no one, how little regard he gave the mandate that his associates held in such high esteem, but it was entertaining enough to see those who would join, give up normally irreplaceable parts of themselves for something so temporary and tenuous as someone else's approval.

Still! The charade was fun enough to occupy his time, at the very least finding it less boring than listening to some Trolls whine about the vulgarity of blood magic.

"Lord Darkfire."

Really, at least they know how to throw a party -

"Lord Darkfire?"

Malkaris shook his head slightly, glancing up at the Shal'dorei sitting in front of him. The man seemed somewhat anxious to go about their business.

"I must confess, this is all so... strange." The elf was pale but trying to maintain his composure, remaining in his seat, leg crossed over in a sort of faux pose of confidence.

"Perhaps. However you did mention you needed a thing or two fixed before you'd allow me to run my gatherings here. You conveniently left out the part about the group of loyalists hiding near your home with a demon or ten still languishing about with them."

Malkaris sat across from the proprietor, moving his hand about for emphasis. In his hand was another dismembered hand, stiff as wood before putting it down on the desk in front of him.

"To be clear, you lied to me about... a great many things. Which I can forgive, but an attempt on my life?" His words were soft, but weighed enough to cause the man to lose his composure somewhat.

"With respect, it wasn't my-"

"Shhhhh." Malk had stood up and placed a bloody finger on the tavern owner's lips. His eyes were predatory, narrowed and focused on the sentient speck of dust in front of him. He continued.

"Enough... enough. I usually do not tolerate the existence of one who's tried to kill me but you have something I need. This puts you in a decidedly unique position. Give me access to your venue to use at my discretion, live. Simple."

The elf blinked, confused by the soft matter of fact tone of voice Malkaris used throughout. He looks about nervously, unsure of what would happen if he called out to his guards and it didn't help that the Shal'dorei in front of him was covered in blood and staring intently through him.

He nods in resigned agreement. What else could he do? He was no fighter and if one of the pockets of those still loyal to Elisande after her murder couldn't kill this one, it's highly unlikely he would be able to do anything either.

"I'll draw up the necessary documents then. I'll have someone on my staff handle the finer details... but to be clear... You're, NOT going to kill me, correct, Lord?"

Malkaris had walked over to one of the bookshelves in the dimly lit office and was fingering through the pages. He glanced up at the tavern owner (he didn't remember the man's name, nor did he care beyond his job title) and gave him a soft, polite smile.

A few days later

"Uh... Malkaris, I have to ask, but, what in the seven hells do you have me sitting in?"

Malk looks up from the desk at his visitor, and old friend from Silvermoon (and property owner) whom he gave more patience to than most others.

"You like it? I made it myself." He muses dryly as he continues with the contract the Sin'dorei had brought over for him to sign.

The Sin'dorei looked down at the legs and armrests of his chair made from a strange type of leather, white hairs knit throughout in various floral designs around two eyes that blinked with constant tears and a mouth locked in an eternal grimace. The Blood Elf, familiar with some of Malkaris' peculiarities, seemed almost unfazed. Almost.

Posts: 261
Location: Florida

Re: A Thing or Two

Unread post by Malkaris » Mon Sep 24, 2018 8:11 pm

Quill on paper. The sound of thought being made manifest into something tangible. That was the root of all power -

"Lord Darkfire?"

The... Root of all P-


He glances up at the creature calling his name, his fingers on his chin in thought as two letters are being written, quills magically floating above parchment and writing away.

The office he'd claimed from it's previous owner had been redecorated, though the elf-chair was still there, facing the desk where Malkaris would be sitting opposite of. There were pale blue lights that would flit about on occasion though otherwise the room was on the darker side with the soft glow of magical lamps crafted in Shal'dorei fashion.

The aforementioned creature was a sort of homunculi made out of blood and infused with a healthy amount of necromantic energy to do a variety of tasks, including but not limited to being a butler of sorts, and taking on various appearances. In this instance, it had taken the form of a rather strange looking goblin with mottled skin.

"What is it, you ugly little monstrosity?"

"Thats... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Really, If I had a heart, it'd be aflutter. I just wanted to tell ya that your next appointment is here."

Malkaris chuckles at that and motions them in.

"Alright Mordy, let them in. Stay close."

Mordy nods lazily and exits the room for a moment, returning with their guest, a human who also happened to be the proprietor of a tavern and den in one of the many towns that gave room and board to both factions during the war against the legion.

The man walked in with a sort of gruff confidence that only comes from having dealt with war and back room business deals gone bad.

"I wasn't told I'd be dealing with one of your kind." His lip curled into a sneer, looking at Malkaris across the desk, his hands unknowingly gripping the Elf-seat in front of him. The chair moans.

"You've never dealt with my kind, child. I was advancing our knowledge of the arcane and blade while your species was defecating on themselves in caves, abandoned by your Vrykul forebears, and alone."

The man abruptly released the chair, shaken by the moaning chair and the weight of Malkaris' words slithering deeper into realization, though it was hard to say which was affecting him more.

"What in the hells?! I'm not doing business with you, not now, not ever, you freak!" He turns to run but is tripped by something. He falls to the floor with a lot of the force hitting his wrist, which breaks. He screams out as panic overtakes him.

"Mordy. Do the thing." Malk chimes in dryly.

That's when the man feels it. This viscous warm feeling slithering up his leg slowly, as if savoring the moment. He looks down while trying to claw his way to safety and sees an amorphous, large puddle of blood moving towards him, it's tendrils attached to his leg. He shrieks and starts clawing faster, blood trails starting to form under his hands as his fingernails tear off.

The more the man struggled, the more Mordy savored it, slowly moving up the man's body until he was almost covered.

"Please! Pleeeeease! I'll work with you, just stop this devilry! Just stop, stop, no no no, this can't be happening! Not like this!"

"I know you will. It'll be a party!" Malkaris chimes joyfully, nodding at Mordy.

Mordy chortles in blood form, bubbles forming as it makes way for the man's ear and starts forcibly invading the man's body. Immediately the man's sobs fill the room as he convulses, rolling on the floor and clawing at the air as his own blood is expelled through his eyes, nose, and any other oriface. His skin expands with the pressure before resettling and the man falls still.

After a moment or two, the man abruptly sits up.

"...Gross. I'm gonna go wash up, Malk and get the paperwork ready."

"...Yes... don't forget the... brain bits? I think that's brain bits."

Mordy giggles as he absorbs all of the expelled blood and organic matter, leaving the room spotless before leaving.

With a sigh, Malkaris slumps into his chair and glances at the two letters, one addressed to Syreena, the other to Umbral. He looks them over once and waves his hand, the letters crumbling into ash and blue flame, soon to appear in their respective mailboxes.

Just a few more to go.

Posts: 261
Location: Florida

Re: A Thing or Two

Unread post by Malkaris » Mon Apr 06, 2020 7:59 pm

Sitting on a throne set at the top most deck, overlooking the rest of the floating ship (Jaina isn't the only one that can make things fly!), sits Malkaris, sitting nonchalantly, a hand balled up and resting on the side of his jaw in contemplation. True to his megalomania, the throne itself is made of wood found in Zin Azshari and enchanted to be as tough as steel, inscribed with runes and arcane sigils glowing with a pale blue light amidst swirls of black.

The ship itself was large enough to throw a good party, but not good in the common view, good in Malkaris' view as he is ever the lover of festivities and the vipers that indulge in them. The ship is made of the same black wood, etchings and esoteric writing around the entire vessel. To others, it would appear as a stormy cloud, but if you knew what to look for...

Music plays loudly within the sound dampening field surrounding the ship, drums beating rhythmically as dancers enrapture their audience. Drinks make their way from bar to hand as people of various races mingle, some for business, others for pleasure.

A Forsaken male about 5'8" in height, lowers the bandana covering what's left of his rotting mouth and glances at Malkaris.


The undead's voice always seems to be just loud enough not to be a whisper, but enough to demand attention.

"We're ready to leave Suramar. If ye be wantin' to go now, say the word."

Malkaris shifts slightly, turning his head slightly while still leaning against his fast and looking at the Forsaken.

"This is... the third time you've mentioned it."

The undead pulls the bandana back up over his mouth and nods slightly at the half naked elf.

"Yes, well, I ain't gettin' any prettier just standin' around."

With a chuckle, Malkaris stands and stretches, his expensive looking black robe opening as he does, revealing a bare chest and leather pants, like some sort of rock star caricature from another world. Thin blue runic embroidery glinting in the moonlight but drowned out by the orange light coming off of the magical torches lighting up the main deck where the majority of the festivities are taking place.

Yawning, he walks down the steps, shaking hands with members of every race under the sun of Azeroth, and some from beyond. He grabs a goblet off of a tray being held by one of the Succubi in his service and raises it in a toast as he walks to the center. He passes a few individuals already deep in conversation, which is muffled by enchantments placed on the table they sit at and nods in greeting.

"Welcome guests. It fills me with an immense sense of joy as we gather here and enjoy the simple pleasures that these back to back wars have denied us these past few years. You are enjoying yourselves yes?"

His question is greeted with cheering and more toasting.

"Good! Well don't let me keep you from your business! Keep in mind that we will be leaving soon. Remember the house rules! Ply your trade with confidence, this is neutral territory. Your secrets are your own, or belong to those you trade with, but also to me, per the agreement you all made before boarding. I've made that crystal clear yes? There for be at peace, worry not about who is listening because you already know that it is me!"

He laughs and drinks from the goblet.

"Now, should you feel that an unauthorized individual is paying... mmm.. undue attention to you and your clients, feel free to notify any member of my staff." He motions to the crew members composed of an odd assortment of demons, undead, and other races, and lastly to the Forsaken he was speaking to before.

"If it's particularly bad, speak to the Captain, Varrus. He'll take care of whatever ails you. Gates that will take you all to your respective cities are below deck, etc, etc. Enjoy yourselves."

He finishes his statements and heads back up to his throne and nods to Varrun.

"Captain?" Varrun looks over Malkaris like he just grew 5 arms.

"Congratulations." Malk shrugs and grins as he sits back down, the whispers of those below filling his mind, bringing a smile to his face.

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