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Forsaken no more, Chp3: The Cure
So far, despite Deezie's completely volatile persona, it appeared to him that it did indeed work. Of course, he knew it should have been used on a more stable person. So the Alkali Salt of Saltsa'jin might work. That was something he would have to test, but how? It took him near an hour pacing Dispaya's crypt to come with an idea. He would have to set up a trap for his brother.

First however they needed to duplicate the medicine. He looked over a check list of what all they needed.

Bone fragments 10 per each dose
Salt 2 handfuls (stacks) per each dose
Plaguebloom 1 petal for each dose
Sweat from a witch doctor (troll sweat) 1 per each dose
Blood of a witch doctor, which would be hard, maybe a strong synthetic (Strong trolls blood potion) 1 per each
And purified water. seemed the draenic sort worked, as long as it was in the presence of a cleansing totem.

He was not even going to try to redo the ritual, after all how, how could he submit himself to Samedi. But he hoped the medicine alone would be enough. It would take time to get it all together but it should go fast if he employed help. Then would just need to set the trap for Ghol'jan and then the rest of the of the scourge should fall into place.

The Mossflayer cast his old eyes upon the totem, for although he no longer calls the Tribe home, the totem has not changed. He has grieved over the loss of each Tribe member as the plague spreads, and even does some of his own research into the plague, searching for a cure. He reads the notices quickly, skipping almost directly to Zeengo's note. Pleased, he rereads it to find anything he may have missed in the first read-through.

"Hmm…" he spoke aloud to himself, rubbing his chin with his three long, greenish-blue fingers. "Witch docta blood… Ah may no' be a witch docta, but…"

Zeb's mind raced, flying through recent events, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to remember everything he had done in regards to this plague… he brought the ooze with him from Mazzra'Alor, touched it, came into contact with many infected Tribe members, and yet showed no signs of this plague whatsoever.

Three weeks prior, he had tracked down his old love, Amaran, (swearing not to disclose her location) and, after spending a week with her, discovered her to be sick. Sadly… she did not recover, and still he was unaffected. Clearly he had spread the plague to her, since she had had no contact with any other Tribe members, yet he was baffled as to his immunity.

Leaving this question for another time, he made his way to Zeengo.
(O.o )
( > < ) This is Bunny. Copy Bunny and this attached message into your signature to help him on his quest for world domination.

Zhebra, 70 Troll mage
Polled, 70 Tauren huntress
Diljabar, 38 Orc warlock… reincarnated…
Deezie growls deeply, alone in the darkness of the Plaguelands. She is lost in her own mind as she mindlessly cuts at the ground. She feels betrayed, she feels used, she feels.....Lonely once more. "They took us away from our family....Cure?...We are the cure...Are we?" Looking up she watches the dark clouded sky and cackles loudly as she squints her eyes.

"Only have each other...You and I..." The deeply deranged teenage elf says as she now stands up and laughs loudly into the darkness, her voice changes as if two voices speak as one. One more venomess and hateful then the other. "We shall wait...We shall grow stronger..." She says and turns around walking down the quiet and lonely road.

"If only they knew...If only they understood..." Her voice turns back to normal. Walking now past the Bulwark heading back to Undercity "Home...The perfect home for the cut throats...The unwanted...No one asks any questions." She smirked gently to her own thoughts and laughs randomly

"Lets rest for a while...When the time is right...We shall unleash our full power...The power...Of the Death Knight" She says and takes a log deep breath closing her eyes "Rest Demon Rose...Till we are needed"

After the long walk she takes her time threw the ruines, wondering of her fellow tribemates ever forgive her of her betrayel...For tainting members with the Sorrow. She then wonders why she should care if they do or not. Eather way these thoughts are pushed aside as she goes to the Inn in Undercity after the elevator down and drops herself into one of the cozy coffens and rests.
(( So very OoC here.

Zheb, we had talked about this immunity thing last week. I had told you we had other ideas and that according to the lore of the plague we had set up, this idea would not work. I had thought I made it very clear there, but this post apparently shows that you either chose not to listen or needed to talk it over more with me for lack of clarification. Spreading it to Amaran would have been fine, but you would have been infected anyways.

I am turning this over to Zeengo, but I would like to state that I do not support this and I am very very irate at the fact that after all we talked about, you went through with this anyways. Do not contact me again about this please...
[Image: 2738341mWkUR.png]
It had been hours since he had drained the bit of blood from Zeb'ra. So much had gone through his mind as he waited for the final checks. He hoped that this indeed would work, but one thing bothered him. How could Amaran had been infected if Zeb'ra were fine. How could no one have told him that Amaran fell to this. He pondered more, oblivious to his motions until he uncovered the small cauldron that he had placed the blood into boil. A black tendril snaked its way out of the boiling ooze. It snapped violently in the Death Speaker's direction knocking the original protection of the lid out of his hands. It bubbled out from over the wrought iron lid like a sewer stopped up.

'Spaya....DIIISPAYAAA a lil help in he'ah womon!

His calls were heeded shortly followed by an astonished scream as the mage entered the room. The large black ooze poured out nearly endless, finally covering the table and pouring down onto the floor in a horrible squish. It was now the size of a large dog, contorting in horrible shapes and lashing out with dripping tentacles the length of a great sword. The Death speaer was all but unarmed and unequipped save for the graven earth shield engulfing him. Yet he furiously threw spell upon spell into the the abyssal black form.

Ge' de gas 'Spaya! Ge' de gas!

Zeengo! Yes, yes hold tight I will be right back!

He held it at bay for as long as he could, its horrible whips lashing against flesh and the bone laden earth. He was near exhausting his mana supply by the time she returned. The apparatus she had made now rigged in a similar way as that of a fire extinguisher.

No, hold on here it comes! Take a deep breath and don't breath in

He heard her, but could not see her from where he was. As he turned to look a tentacle struck him across the face. The ooze burnt his eyes as he reeled in pain. Taking a last breath he dove out of the way. Seconds later all that could be heard was a rushing of compressed gas and a horrible screaming sound.

Wiping the gunk out of his eyes he looked up to Dispaya from his spot on the ground.

Goo' work corpse, da' was dynamite. Guess de blood wasn't pur'ah aftah all. Must'a been jus' one hell of a strong will to hol' dat back.

Who's blood was that?

Zeb'ra's, he wanted ta make ammends. Bu' seems he wasn' immune aftah all...
((OOC: Zeengo's got the idea. Zeb THINKS he's immune, but he's not.))

Three pints of blood, enough to tire any troll with regenerative powers, but, after a few hours, Zeb'ra's body had replenished his blood supply and he was back to normal… for the moment.

"If even one person can be saved wit' mah blood, Zeengo… mebbie Amaran's spirit will fo'give me," he told the death speaker in Orgrimmar that afternoon. "What next? Back ta Zul'Masha'?"

"No' yet," Zeengo replied.

Zeb returned to the Spirits of Azeroth hall, his new home, and retired to his room. There, in the quiet of his abode, surrounded by troll knick-knacks and mojo, he coughed ooze into his hand where it wrapped itself around his fingers.

(O.o )
( > < ) This is Bunny. Copy Bunny and this attached message into your signature to help him on his quest for world domination.

Zhebra, 70 Troll mage
Polled, 70 Tauren huntress
Diljabar, 38 Orc warlock… reincarnated…
Mindiall looks around wearryly as he rides though the Lower City. Ever aleart he dismounts and walks into the tavern. Grumbling to himself Mindiall orders a drink.

~thinking~ " if the rumers are true and they have found a cure... this changes alot of things. My contacts are droping left and right. And if they are still There they are in no posiosion to aid me... I need to find Gholjan before his brother. Darn rogues, nearly impossiobe to find them when they arnt in hideing. Muchless when they dont want to be seen... if i where a rogue... AH! i know i'll just let Zeengo find him for me. *Clenches his fist.* besides i have a score to settel with that shaman."

Mindiall downs the rest of his drink and tosses the barkeep a few silvers.

~thinking~ "Zeengo has been is spending alot of time over in Undercity. No better place to look."
His bags reeked of the fetid bodily fluid he had been carrying around. His collection of the the troll sweat had been completed, save for a few broken bottles he had all he needed. Lying it down gingerly beside the door of Dispaya's Crypt, he looked around and suddenly batted at his right ear.

Hmm som'ting be up...

Double checking he was not being followed he entered the crypt and deposited the bags next to a cauldron. He knew there would need to be more time but part of him felt like he had to hurry this. There had been to much strife over the lost ones to let it drag out much longer. The sorrow was causing just that, sorrow amongst the tribe. He spun around and began walking out in a determined huff.

Nee' ta get dis done....now....
<a letter arrives for Zeengo>


Dispaya has informed me that you have possible discovered a cure to this sickness that afflicts our Tribemates. I would like to offer my services in any way I can, be it gathering materials or defending you while you administer this cure. Even if I should fall, I gaurantee I can buy you time to complete your work. Let me know where and when to meet you.

Kosath Whitehorn
Kosath Whitehorn
"The Tribe is my weapon.  I am their shield."
Lucinther followed Mindiall into the tavern, unseen. He sat down next to the mage and ordered his own drink as he set a key on the table. Pushing the key further in front of Mindiall, he spoke. " The key to Dispaya's labs.... more importantly to where the cure is being held. If you are to succeed, you'll need to destroy that cure."

Before Mindiall could say anything, Lucinther was already out of the tavern door, disappearing into the shadows. When he was sure he was well out of earshot he sighed and spoke to no one in general. "He is on his way to find the cure."
[Image: 3994085VvROm.png]
Shillatae returned grimly from Yojamba Isle, usually her favorite refuge. Al'tabim the All-Seeing was not kind in his assessment of her progress as a Confessor. His words were true; many corrupting forces had touched the Tribe in the past year and her powers had not been equal to guarding the souls in her care. The secrets of the Loas were not his to share with her in any case and so she came back empty handed.

Something would need to change. Her mind expanded by constant daily exposure to the Apexis Crystals of Ogri'la, Shillatae's perspective was changing. Her accent had at least temporarily diminished but that was only an outward sign. Recent events were taking there toll on her as anyone else. She thought to the Jambiya of Delgarsida but turned the thought aside. Confrontation with her offspring would have to wait a bit longer.

Hopefully Zeengo's search would have been more fruitful.

((Thankfully, it was!))
"She is a soothsayer. She’s a mystic. She is a witch doctor, able to see into people’s hearts and minds. She’s also touched by the elements." -Naomie Harris

((Lucinther-Mindial...I am very intrigued by the direction this is taking. Lucinther now has the key to my sanctuary...please chat me privately so we may discuss what happens next.))
Sing True Ironsong!
He had been wandering around Undercity when the courier had arrived. It was a letter from Kosath on the matter of assistance. A smile came to him instantly and scrawled a fast reply to had to the courier before he had left.


Yes I will be needing a lot of assistance. So far I have had little problem extracting the sweat needed for the congealant, but the bulk needs to be filled. We are in great need for a large quantity of bone fragments. Also, I am in the process of thinking a trap to catch the remaining scourge. I may need a great deal of strength to pull it off. Such help would be most apprieciated
Mindiall watch from across the way as zeengo was approached. Taking a letter from the courier Zeengo grins and quickly scrawls something on a parchment handing it back. Curiosity gets the better of Mindiall. Moving swiftly Mindiall intercepts the courier as he passes from Zeengo's sight.

"Friend might I have a word!" the courier pauses looking at Mindiall suspiciously.

"I'm sorry but i have a job to attend." The Courier starts to turn to leave but stops catching a gold coin thrown at his direction.

"Please it will only take a moment." Mindiall grins pating his gold pouch hanging from his belt, and walksaround the corner to a small secluded nook.

The Courier glances down at the gold coin in his hand and pauses a moment debating…then quickly follows Mindiall. He rounds the corner and was greeted with Ball of ice…. It was over before it started. The Small water elemental follows Mindiall to the heap on the ground. Quickly inspecting the Courier Mindiall retrives his coin and then finds the note Zeengo had written.


Yes I will be needing a lot of assistance. So far I have had little problem extracting the sweat needed for the congealant, but the bulk needs to be filled. We are in great need for a large quantity of bone fragments. Also, I am in the process of thinking a trap to catch the remaining scourge. I may need a great deal of strength to pull it off. Such help would be most appreciated.

“I wonder what kind of trap he's thinking of. I do belive it’s time to go say hello to Kosath. But first…” Mindiall pulls out his Key ring and looks at the Key Lucinther had gave him.

“One more stop to make...”
((Belated and as Thregar))

Throm'Ka Ironsong,

I apologise for the tardiness of this note, I've found myself in much trouble again. As was discussed at the moot, here are the plans of tracking the Sorrowers down and trapping them.

Our first phase was to capture the bait. To my understanding, Bovv, Arvator and his mate Takeena were able to bring in Gholjan. This is a great step forward...

What happens next is going to need to be the textbook example of multiple front combat. Using Gholjan as bait, we will get the Sorrowers to leave their haunts and come to collect him. After they leave, we need to destroy all possible places they can go to hide. Stratholme, Scholomance, Deatholme, any of the Fungal glades. They all need to be razed to the ground. Blocking off the naxxramas translocator should be sufficient. There are many ways this could go wrong, and many more ways we can fail. I need more ideas...let me know.
[Image: 2738341mWkUR.png]

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