Forsaken no more, Chp2: Of Black Ooze and Cleaning Products

[Zeengo]

He remained on top of that borrowed temple for some time but it was all starting to be to much. Kajji had yet to attain safe passage for his brothers body nor had he done much other then speak in mumbling tones about what was to come. The tainted fog was rolling in signifying the ending of another night, another beginning to this new nightmare. Why had it come to this, what could be done.

There was only one place he could find the answer now. Now that his loa refused to answer him. With great frustration he called out to his servant to make haste with the preparations. Not wanting to stay a minute more he whistled shrilly for his raptor, Oulla. It took no more then a few final pained seconds to give up on what had been done here. The answer, had to lie in the place he could no longer go. There were however, otherways to attain knowledge and Dispaya seemed to be on the right track.

It took the better part of the day traveling through the plaguelands. He had to dodge many large patrols of newly corrupted forsaken. It was obviously getting worse, infact it was out of control. How many had been lost that could not be accounted for. The numbers in the tribe were grave, but what of the outsiders? What of those that did not have anyone to protect them? It was not sympathy he felt but merely apprehension. Who knew how great their numbers truly had swelled. Those ruminations slowly passed as he burst through the bulwark at top speed. There was no polite nod or greeting to those that stood there. The Argent Dawn had obviously also seen its share of this hardship. Many of the faces he knew were gone, missing from their posts. What had happened to them, had they succumbed? It did not matter much as he urged his raptor onward in search of Dispaya's labratory.

He let Oulla remain untethered, whether it was a wise idea or not was yet to be seen. The willful raptor immediatly bolted from the area leaving a trail of angry forsaken chasing after it. He was done with the niceties, he didn't even knock. The door almost came off the hinges as he quite literally barged into Dispaya's private holdings. Looking around at the carbon scoring and broken glass he pondered if there was some sort of attack made on her. Not knowing exactly were she was he simply called out.

"Dispaya, where be ya notes? Dere has ta be sometin' we missed!"

((OOC))

On another note, I think the matters of the RP being called off have been slightly exaggerated do to the harsh natures of what has been happening. I assure you, it is not my intent to end this nor do I plan on changing the flow of the story as it is developing. As far as I was concerned, there was just a momentary hold until it was straightened out. As I know that at least Kosath talked to gho about this, I am assuming that it has been handled. I admit I am still VERY unsure of what all had happened. It has been hard the last few days to get a straight answer to the fact of the problem. But I can say with utmost surety that this will end as it had been designed. The issues of powergaming and the like will be dealt with (and infact I do not know what exact incidents that had been out there, the scourge was only marginally in my control.)

One thing I keep telling myself through this all is that its just a story. That is what it all comes down to, this is a story being written in real time by people portraying the characters as they see fit. That is why we created it this way, we can not govern how people play their characters nor should we. We can only give guides as to how the story will flow, everything else is up to those playing the story. If there is an issue of someone portraying something that is not possible or something that can not be countered, let us know. We do not want this story to be a tale of gods, we all are not gods. Hell we all are hardly even heroes, we are the loyal dregs of the true heroes of the age. We can only aspire to what they have done single handedly. Now I know I am rambling so I will cut this short. If there is a problem talk to the officers, talk to the story tellers. We do not want people feeling left out in this. THis is for the tribe, not just a few.

PoZeengo

[Guest]

*another note in Qaza's elaborate script is posted on the totem, although this time the handwriting is heavily slanted and slightly shaky, as if it has been written quickly*

Tribe,

The other night I was approached by a lady rogue claiming to be of the scourge. I have no doubt that in this she was honest, for she had an air of tainted madness to her, but I have no reason to believe anything else she told me. Regardless, I feel it is important to recount what happened.

I have been hunting in Brill as of late, which is where she approached me. She did not give her name, nor the name of who sent her, but she knew me by my mask and my warp stalker, Kematef. She seemed to think I knew the weakness of her master, who she claimed resides within Ironsong. In return, she offered the "removal" of said fallen member and what she purported to be the cure to Sorrow.

I regret now not attempting to either glean more information as much as I regret not striking her down the moment she declared her alliegance. My mind has not been as focused as of late, and I admit for a desperate moment I had wished I knew the name of her master so I could perhaps bargain with her. But this, I dearly hope, was fleeting foolishness. Instead, I offer this information to you, along with a warning: The scourge are indeed putting forth thier best efforts to turn us against ourselves and each other.

~Qaza'jan the Masked

[Sreng]

((Posted a notice in Member Meeting regarding some of the more controversial aspects that have cropped up. Take a look, and please continue to enjoy this story!))

[Guest]

*Mindiall is so excited he can barely contain himself. After Zhuljeta’s death a strange feeling of giddiness overtakes the Mage. Walking around in the open at the Tribes moot… A true sign of his Confidence. If he could sweat he would now be drenched* “ so much… It can’t possibly get better.”
*Watches coldly as Zeengo Ties Zhuljeta’s corpse up. Zeengo took careful care to tie her up good an tight.”
*a voice from the crowd* “Is that really necessary Zeengo?”
“da, we take no chances.”

Zhuljeta stirs from her death bed. And slowly sits up still bound. Mindiall Cackles as Zhuljeta speak to the tribe

After a moment Mindiall looks in the direction of the two rogues shadowing him. With a quick nod Yorrik hurries off followed closely by Lucinther

Yorrik breaking out of stealth Slashes the bonds that hold Zhuljeta. Lucinther run up behind her scooping up her small frame and bolting to the newly made portal Mindiall conjured. The last thing Mindiall hears is the startled protest of Zeengo. Mindiall cackles as he dissipates into the portal.

Mindiall, still laughing, smiles at the small party before him. After a few moments Mindiall talks to the group, but stops suddenly. Sensing a presence behind him Mindiall turn to see a figure entering the room. Mindialls eyes go wide in surprise. A wicked grin then spreads over his features.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Later that night~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mindiall stares at a passing Arcane guarding as it make it meandering patrol. Sitting on a bench in the middle of Silvermoon Mindiall chuckles heartily. The undead, whom Mindiall just made a deal, Vanished form site. Mindiall looks over the fresh sheet of parchment he had found in his pocket. Not knowing where it had come for or when he acquired it Mindiall opens the parchment and reads the contents

“City of the stars, The birds flight, water under the bridge..

~*_ Z _*~”

Mindiall eyes bore into the code. He hoped that that if he stared hard enough the parchment would burst into flame. Mindiall sigh’s sitting back on the bench muttering “I was never really good with fire.” Just then Mindiall hears a rather Familiar voice
*Zhuljeta* “Mindiall I’ve heard of news you might be interested in. They are trying to slow down the infection process using the mana forges in netherstorm… they carried Anca there. Maybe we should…” Mindiall Cuts her off “It would be my pleasure.” Mindiall reaches into his bag and brings out the Small rune carved hearthstone and grins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Checking out the Strongest of the mana forges seemed like the right places to start. Swooping down to the roof of the forge Ara Mindiall peers over to the heart of the of the forge. *cackles softly then mutters to himself* “Right where you said they would be. Good girl… and she is alone the fools.” Mindiall eases himself down into the Center and walks slowly to Anca. “ Hello Anca. *smiles broadly*”

“Hi Mindiall.” Mindiall can not tell anythign from Anca's expression.
“Acna, I hear you’re not feeling well. I know some people who can help. But we have to go quickly!”

Anca hug close to the wall and looks at Mindiall. Mindiall starts to open a portal he hope if anything he can force her though. Before he can complete the complex spell to create the portal Zeengo dropped down in front of him and attacks. A furious battle ensues. Anca, Horror struck watches in amazed silence. Mindiall grits his teeth and he finishes off the shaman with a finial blast. Mindiall turns to Acna and quickly moves toward her.
“Anca we must go. Quickly these guy are going to kill you if we don’t hurry. We mus…” Mindiall falls silent as he is blasted again from a Shaman spell. Whirling around Mindiall’s eyes burning like miniature sun’s
“ Don’t you Shaman EVER DIE!!!” another battle ensues.
The newly forged battle breaks Acna’s silence “NO fight … NO!!”
Thos where the last words Mindiall heard before falling unconscious.

Not sure how long he had been out Mindiall sirs. It must not of been long because Zeengo Just finishing binding his wounds moved closer.
*thinking* “If I can only sheep him I can get away. I’m not sure if I can take him in my weakened condition.” Wait a moment for the perfect opening.
Sheeping him Zeengo Mindiall runs to Anca "We must go girl!"
“No GO!”
Mindiall tries to open another portal but Zeengo regains his true form and charges. Sighing Mindiall turns to fight him once again the two fight. Throwing up his ice shield Mindiall attacks with deadly accuracy. Half alive Mindiall blast the troll into unconsciousness. Mindiall eyes the shaman closely to make sure he’s not getting back He takes a moment to bandages his wounds, and moves to Anca again. This time opening his portal Mindiall tries to shove the scared orc thought it, but she resist. Frustrated Mindiall attacks attempting to knock her out. In flurry of motion Anca Get far enough away and strikes Mindiall hard. After a quick but furious battle the bleeding and wounded Mindiall carries a dazed Anca through the portal to Silvermoon. Anca

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After going through the portal Mindiall secures the area making sure there where no other’s around Mindiall send a message to Zhuljeta.
“I got her here in Silvermoon City.”
Suddenly Mindiall Become a block of ice as Anca catches him off guard with a Ice trap. Anca blots off into the city.
unfreezing a moment later Mindiall practily at Zhuljeta once more. “She got away! Find her she can’t of gone far.”

((sorry this is soo late i ment to post this Friday afternoon >.<))

[Dispaya]

The door almost came off the hinges as he quite literally barged into Dispaya's private holdings. Looking around at the carbon scoring and broken glass he pondered if there was some sort of attack made on her. Not knowing exactly were she was he simply called out.

"Dispaya, where be ya notes? Dere has ta be sometin' we missed!"

A Forsaken girl appeared in the doorway behind him and upon seeing the large troll let out a quiet "eek!"

"Who joo be? Where is Dispaya? Wha happen here?"

The undead girl pointed to herself and uttered in a quiet voice.

"Cadavera...me...The Mistress get very...upset...very."

"Where is she?"

Without another word the girl pointed to a door on the far side of the crypt-lab. She then silently went about the business of cleaning up the mess of broken bottles that now littered the floor.

Zeengo walked carefully past the mess and looked around. The lab was one of the strangest places he had ever seen and he had seen many strange places. Various experiments were scattered about the room...all in various stages of work-in-progress. A large planetary model silently spun over one table, with no apparent mechanisms or strings to hold the spherical objects in their respective orbits. In one corner sat a large harp and surrounding it various parchements that looked like song lyrics. Zeengo mused over one half finished verse simply titled "Kretol" and wondered if she would ever get around to performing that one. Another corner housed the strange sarcophagus that Dispaya had been using to "cure" her tribemates. A large tank of greenish gas was connected by a valve to the coffin. The smell of chlorine permeated the room.

The far door opened easily with a slight creak and on the other side was a room unlike anything he would have expected to see in Undercity. Though the walls were crypt walls...the furniture itself could have come from a human castle. A large canopy bed occupied the majority of the room and lining the walls were trunks of various sizes. Several elaborate dresses hung along one wall and a large tapestry depicting a battle in the Molten Core hung alongside. Draped over one chair was the unmistakable tabbard of the Argent Dawn...and over another the purple colors of the Aldor. On one of the trunks sat a small picture frame with an image of a human man sitting importantly in a large chair. (He wasn't positive but he thought the man gave him a nod and a wink.) Next to that was a picture with another familer face...the Ironsong Tribe's Warlord Sreng who was also Dispaya's adopted Father.

Dispaya herself sat on the edge of the bed with her face buried in her hands, quietly sobbing. Zeengo stopped for a moment to consider his next words. Dispaya looked up and upon seeing her friend she rushed to his arms and buried her crying face in Zeengo's chest. Carefully the Troll placed an arm around her and slowly led her back into the main lab.

"Dere dere now...wha be happenin here Spaya? I come ta see you notes...I be tinkin two heads are betta dan one ya?"

"Oh my dear friend...I am so glad you have come. I have tried everything and still no cure is in sight...and now Anca..."

"Aye...I know girlie...I know..."

She shuffled to her lab table and handed a large book to Zeengo. The wise troll began scanning the pages of endless notes.

"...an de Chlorine gas...no effect on da humans?"

"The tank can cure a Forsaken that is not badly infected...that is all. It would only kill a human and poison their body too much to prevent a resurrection spell from working...but that is not the only obstacle. The creature seems to be able to protect itself by covering its hosts nose and mouth from the inside. It is a creature with an intelligence beyond that of a normal sickness. It...understands that we are trying to stop it..."

"Where Anca now?"

"She is in hiding...I understand there was an attempt to kidnap her. And there is more Zeengo. Many of our tribe are no longer to be trusted. As to who has turned and who is only infected...the lines are no longer clear to me. Whether the Mana Forges themselves hold any answer I cannot say. I know that was a theory of Ebberk's but even his loyalties have been questioned as he claims to hold some alliances with the Scourge himself. Personally, I do not think the Mana Forges hold the answer. Though they command great power that is not their purpose. There is more...

Zeengo listened as Dispaya continued her tale.

...I was also approached by a scourge Rogue...it was probably the same who spoke to Qaza. She...confusingly calls Lucinther her MASTER yet seeks him out to destroy him. She has offered me his death in exchange for curing the girl. Whether she would actually produce such a cure remains to be seen. I do not trust Scourge and would never trust them to keep to their word. I cannot sacrifice one life to save another no matter how dear. She did say something that interested me though...in that...if the Scourge created Sorrow...then they may have the key to destroying it. If Lucinther is planning to double cross his Scourge Masters now...he is playing a very foolish game...one that is endangering the lives of others. It was he who infected Anca...on purpose....for something having to do with this scheme. When I learned that I was very...distraught.

Lucinther told me this fact himself and at the same time, he bid me to bring Anca to a place of his choosing. I cannot say if he is to be trusted either. Something in his words did not sing true to me. He did tell me that there would be an attempt on my life though...and that several of the infected members of the tribe now plot to capture me and return me to the Scourge. I think it could be that Anca is becoming bait in an even more elaborate trap to capture me. In either case...I will not follow any of the questionable offers that have been made. Anca's cure lies here...in these notes...not in the hands of the ones who infected her. This is an undead-organic creature that is magical in nature. I think perhaps we should continue to work on a cure ourselves. I have learned much of this Sorrow...perhaps together we can learn even more..."

Zeengo sat for a moment lost in thought. He then withdrew his long pipe and absent-mindedly begain searching his pockets for a bit of flint to light it.

Dispaya snapped her fingers and a large flame erupted from the bowl...lighting the tobacco inside. >Ka-woosh!<

Zeengo jumped with a start and then smiled at the girl. He took a long drag on his pipe.

"We gonna need a subject ta test on. We gonna have ta bring Anca here."

"I agree my friend. I shall summon her right away. But Zeengo...the Scourge may come for her...and for me as well."

Zeengo looked at the bowl of his pipe with a gleam in his eye.

"Den if dey do...we give'em a warm welcome."

[Zhuljeta]

Zhuljeta sat pacing the steps of Scholomance. None of the inhabitants had an issue with her being here again...not now that her blood was nothing more then black ice. Mindiall had shown her where to meet various contacts throughout the plaguelands..and that orc and his pet troll had shown up...she shook her head. How strange that had been. And then Anca..

She stopped her pacing something tingling in her chest. Anca reminded Zhuljeta of the litle sister she had lost so many many years ago. Anca would turn there was no denying it.. Dispaya had failed.. Zeengo had failed... Gholjan was lost she was lost. a tear slippped down her cheek. The child was not meant for this. A chill swept down her spine and the barren trees swayed as the wind picked up. Zhuljeta touched the rune and she was instantly in The ruins of the undercity, she made her way to Dispaya's lab a small throbbing begining at her temple.

Dispaya, I need a word

Step into my lab, Zhuljeta I thought you were lost to sorrow...

I am, you cannot trust me. But the child Anca, I cannot bear to see her tied to some alter or chained in some laboratory.

Nor would I

But I would not see her fated the same as myself and the rest of the fallen.

I see.

IF she turns, I will hide her. So she is not made to commit...the horrors and atrocities we all have...

I understand

A cure Dispaya you must find a cure..

I will save you all from this Sorrow

Zhuljeta smiles a sad smile then the throbbing becomes a skull splitting pain and the chill returns and she hears the voice beckoning her, chastizing her. Sh turns pulling her hood up and flees into the sewers.

[Dispaya]

As Zhuljeta hurried away, Dispaya's voice echoed through the sewer's behind her.

"Bring Anca to me Zhuljeta...and bring yourself as well. There is always hope."

She turned and looked back to Zeengo where he sat amidst a pile of notes.

"The die is cast. Now we will see."

[Anca]

Much of it was like a game to Anca. Those of the tribe she trusted kept shifting her from hiding place to hiding place every so often. They did not leave her alone for long, and she always felt safe when one would appear to take her somewhere else. Whenever she was hidden in one of the larger cities, she made great use of the honey-comb of tiny tunnels that seemed to permeate each. She could hide in them and pop out almost anywhere if she felt threatened. They told her to stay put, but sometimes she felt the need to sneak out when she heard a familiar, trusted voice nearby, or to shoot some small game for a meal or steal a waterskin from someone who didn't need it as much. Though trained as a hunter, she was getting good at the skills little Rinu had shown her.

But sleep was difficult. She hurt.

Breathing hurt, her head hurt, sometimes moving would hurt. And the coughing definitely hurt.

Sighting in with her trusty rifle, she lined up a shot on the little rabbit she'd spied just outside the walls of Shattrath. Her belly told her it was food-time, and she stifled a cough to keep her skittish meal from bolting away. Rabbit would go long to stemming the tummy-rumbles. Easy as ever, this shot. Done it thousands of times since she was able hold a gun. She squeezed the trigger.

And watched the rabbit dash away, unharmed. Confusion set in again, as the girl knew that she never misses. She frowned at the shake her hand had developed, and crawled back into the tunnels, stumbling once as another violent coughing fit overtook her.

[Zeengo]

He barely payed attention to the whole exchange between Dispaya and Zhuljeta. He was more zeroed in on the pages of notes going over all that had been done, experimented and suggested within the last several weeks. Through his own ways he had heard of Qaza's proclimation, he knew a shadowhunter would be needed for this. But how would it all come to par. It was a thought that simply juggled around in his mind until he came upon the notes from the aldor. There was one thing that had not been mentioned in any other research. He jumped up in a start after reading the line.

DISPAYA why didn' ya tell me bout dis!

He held out a piece of the parchment gifted by one of the Aldor priests. On it was one of the suggestions they had made. A rather obscure name of something he recognised immediatly, Samedine.

Dis here could be de solution to ou'ah problem! Infac' it make mo' sence den I coul' evah have guessed.

With one finger he held out the specific name, but covered the last bit of the word revealing quite clearly what he was pointing out.

Samedi, I be guessin, da dis Samedine be a typ'a medicine created by de ol' Samedi witch doctah to keep de dead quiet. In fac' I he'ahd o'dis typa ting, bu' nevah pu' much faith in it. Afta all, keeping tings in de grave nevah on'a me strong suits. Bu' dis, if we can fin' a witch doctah da' know it. Den we may hav' ou'ahselves a cure!

[Ronx]

((OOC:

God-modding? I didn't even know anyone was even doing that...))

Pt.1 - Drudgery and Shadows
part deux

-Elior-

Not deep in the catacombs underneath the Undercity that had served as home to a number of Forsaken, Elior had sat in his quarters meditating. Here he had established a headquarters for himself and his few followers: the few that had followed him into death, and the fewer he had established since he had started. In his mind Elior could feel the paranoia and grief slowly flowing through the city. Worse yet, he could see it for himself in his mind. To one side, a silhouetted armor of a former Human prince loomed over him. Two unforgiving orbs, the color of ice, peered out of the face. He spoke constantly, the voice sympathetic and kind, even though it was a lie. "Why do you not rest, father? You can feel the Sorrow, why do you fight me? If you come," Elior could sense an inviting smile on the invisible face, "then you would no longer feel it, and better yet, you could help the others not to feel it either." "Bah! He speaks naught but lies! Purge yourself of him, and only then yo would be free from the shackles of the perversions of the shadow!" Another figure, opposite of the shadow of the Lich, had interjected. He was physically younger than Elior by at least ten years, and wore the same armor, mantle, robe, tabard, and sword and staff Elior had when he was alive. He was stronger and unwithered like the way Elior was, every The younger self of Elior looked at the Lich with total disgust, he was a being of great conviction after all.

"Free thyself, or be damned to all Eternity, cleanse the Shadow from thyself!" He screamed constantly in the same manner he had used to preach and at the one who was older and wiser. Even though the context he meant was the image of the Lich, even if he could, Elior was no longer one to shrug off the Shadow because of former beliefs. Being half shadow himself, the priest had new appreciation for the thing he thought was supposed to be the antithesis of all things good. When he was troubled, the shadows had comforted him with a cool chilling, but comforting touch; it also made sure that he had immunity to some degree to the darkness.

Elior meditated on keeping himself under control, being wary of the two personifications of influence he was feeling. They weren't real of course, in all truth, Elior was too insignificant too personally be bothered by the Lich King and a ghost of his past self. But what they represented were very real. He sat in silent contemplation, trying to strengthen his will so that it may always remain his own. Then it was the voice of one that almost detested that disturbed him from his meditation. He roused and saw Algernon in the doorway. "Hello, old man."

Elior sighed. He had dealings with Mages in the past, and they usually had a tendency to keep themselves as anybody who could not be trusted. Previously, Algernon was cynical and hedonistic, with constant pranks and jokes. Now he was much more dire, and vaguely distraught. Elior thought it best that he kept Algernon as considered untrustworthy.

"What is it, boy?" Algernon looked serious. "How long has he pressured us." Straight to the point, an vast improvement at least. "Some two weeks, along with a new plague." "Not like you would be able to do anything, but have you taken steps yet?" "Yes, with your tribe as a matter of fact." Algernon clutched at his heart, and a shadow crossed his features. Elior wouldn't have believed it, but Algernon had a pang of remorse. He knew what the Priest meant when he said "alongside your Tribe," they had been influenced by the Lich, and likely the plague. That it had happened without him knowing cost Algernon a good deal of pain at that moment. He had not worn their tabard, but the tribe was all he had, it was his home and his family. "For how long?" "About one week." For a few long moments, there was utter silence, Elior was waiting to see what Algernon would do. "Then...I would ask to collaborate with you personally." "Very well, the Apothecarium would be very interested in the new disease. We will begin together shortly." A small, cruel smile crossed Elior's lips. "Fetch me the Apothecaries' Tomes on this new Plague

[Guest]

It took him longer than he thought. Mindiall examined the packages In front of him. Two brown square boxes not much bigger than a foot square, A Small but sturdy string tied it closed. It looked perfect. Picking up the boxes he quickly gathers all the left over materials. Tarren mill was empty this night. The only noise emanated was the Tinkling of glasses as the barkeep put them away. Mindiall walked to the Maibox and put in a package addressed to Saezhur a small note attached to it.

"It has taken me a little longer than expected. I still need the package delivered. As soon as possible. Since it has taken me so long i will not hold you to the current deadline. I will extend it another week.

Mindaill

PS. I would not let any one see you with this note on your possession. I might not look to good on your part."


After his business done Mindiall strolls to the small lake near Tarren mill. He stares into the calm waters. Staring into the placid waters. The reflection of a million stars at his finger tips. Ripples sail though the water at Mindiall's touch. Emotions start to well up from deep inside. Emotions he had not felt for a while now. Soon images of tho's he had hurt start to appear in his mind. There faces flashing through his mind faster and faster. Bombarding his sences. He could not stop the images from coming. After what must have been an eternity the images slows and settles on the Bruised and beaten form of Anca. He heard the pleading in her voice as she called out to her loved ones. He saw his hand Cast the spell the struck her down at the mana forge Ara. With a surge of emotion Mindiall falls to his knees and lets out a bellowing roar at the Night sky...
After a moment. All energy drained Mindiall slowly gets up. Face a steel mask. All emotion drained from his features. Reaching up and touching his face Mindiall grabs a single Frozen tear. Turning around Mindiall flicks the tear into the lake.

"Time for games is over... I have a package to deliver." Mindiall picks up the package that fell from his grasp just a moment ago and creates a portal to the Undercity.

The lake glimmers in the starlight a frozen pool.

[Motoki]

Motoki cursed his lack of haste as he rode back towards the Undercity. The vision he had of the Bulwark was clear as day, and while he didn't understand what he saw, he knew he had to be there. Unfortunately, whatever occured had long since been over by the time he arrived.

He was still berating himself as he turned the corner to the decrepit courtyard just in time to see Zeengo and Zhuljeta riding away. His gaze was drawn to the left, and he noticed a small, scrawny undead, standing alone at the top of the stair. He approached cautiously -- having missed whatever happened at the Bulwark, he did not want to make the mistake of rushing blindly into a confrontation. The undead girl's head turned to meet his gaze and she offered him a hideous, twisted grin as she addressed him.

"Are you Ironsong or Scourge?"

"I am no Scourge" Motoki scoffed and offered a bitter grin of his own

"Funny...you smell like Scourge"

Motoki drew his polearm as the girl began to walk in circles around him, examining him and cackling quietly to herself. Quickly, his head snapped to the left as he heard a voice coming from someone he had not seen until this point.

"I must ask you this question, then: How do you feel?" asked Mindiall

Slowly, Motoki began to understand that he had seen this man before. Will a chill he realized that he had unwittingly walked into a very deadly situation. He pointed at the mage with his weapon.

"You...it was you who I saw come through the portal in Shattrath that day."

Turning his attention away from the girl was a mistake that Motoki would immediately regret. The half second he took to turn his attention to the mage was all the girl needed to draw her dagger, run it over her arm, and plunge it into Motoki's side. He hissed as his hand went to the wound and came away covered in blood mixed with a thick, black ooze.

"Oh, no...not me..."

Mindiall slowly began to walk down the stairs to Motoki, the girl's maddening, hysterical laughter a now-constant backdrop of insanity.

"How do you feel now?"

Motoki lept off the balcony and ran for the Undercity, his mind reeling under the weight of a thousand thoughts. Only one made itself heard as the sound of Scourge laughter began to fade in the distance:

"I must seek help..."

[Dispaya]

Dispaya wrapped her cloak around her as she made her way through the labyrinth of tunnels below Lordaeron. The sounds of coughs and choking now echoed through the tunnels as more of the Forsaken people fell victim to Sorrow. She had heard that the Troll and Orc liasons had departed back to their home cities. The Undercity was usually bustling with activity but today things were lonely here. She made her way back to her crypt door where two large Bohemoths stood guard.

"Halt...who goes there?"

"Tis just I. Hello Ernest...hello Bertran."

"My Lady." The two guards nodded in respect to her.

The two stepped aside and Dispaya worked the spell that would unseal the magical ward on her sanctum. The door slid open with a loud creak and closed again behind her.

"Did ya contacts know anyting?" Zeengo inquired.

"No I am afraid not. And the Dark Lady herself has been sequestered away from the plague. Her officers will not let anyone near her for fear of infection. The Undercity is growing colder by the day."

She next checked on Anca. The Orc girl had answered her call the previous night and had made her way to the lab. Dispaya had given her a strong dreamless sleep potion so the girl could rest. She was exhausted from running from the Scourge who sought to capture her.

"I saw Lucinther also. He was not well."

"Oh?"

"Aye...I told him of the threat made against him and bid him to keep himself safe. I do not know what he is up to but he can be very headstrong that one. He plays dangerous games."

"What now of da Samedi?"

"I think you will have to seek out these answers on your own Zeengo. I must stay here and tend to Anca. I would bid you bring your brother Gholjan here as well. My chambers will be converted to holding cells where he will be easily contained. Once here I can look after him until a cure is found. If Anca turns I will contain her as well. She will not be safe out there with the Argent Dawn so intent on destroying the Scourge. If she is killed and burned we will never be able to restore her."

Zeengo nodded. The mage's words were heavy to his ears.

"I do not think you should go alone. Seek out Shillatae for she may know the answers. If she does not know then I am sure you can find another who does. Take other tribemates to go with you. I would go if I could...but I shall send Ptarra in my place. She is a Shaman also and will know much of what you seek. The girl also has an unnatural ability to speak to spirits of the dead. She tends to know when danger is about and when folk are lying to her. She is quite amazing sometimes in that way. Cadavera, my personal servant, will stay here and help me tend to the sick. If any other tribe become infected, you may tell them to come here as well. My wards will keep any unwanted visitors away. Portals will not work here."

With a magical spell...Dispaya's personal chambers are converted to holding cells. Hospital beds now lined the walls of the sanctum and Cadavera began making preparations to house the sick.

"I am going to continue giving the girl Anca these potions. They will slow down all of her bodily functions...her heart and breathing. It will also slow down the creatures growth. She will be groggy and silly...and won't have much energy to move...but I think it will prevent her from being taken for at least a short while longer. I can buy her some time...a few days at best... but eventually the sorrow will still overtake her."

Dispaya suddenly looked toward the ceiling as something strange roused her senses.

"I sense another of our brethren has become infected." She lowered her head and sent a magical whisper to the ear of Motoki.

"Come to my chambers. You will be safe here."

Dispaya turned and gave Zeengo a sad face.

"Time is becoming critical Zeengo. You must go right away."

[Guest]

((I hope every one is enjoying this as much as me !!))

[Zhuljeta]

Zhuleta stood leaning against the stone flgons of the the trade quarter in the undercity. Her head still pound the skin like ice. suddenly the dim hallway became even darker. She looked up seeing the hulking form of a tauren.

I think I need help.

Zhuljeta sniffed him smelling the rancid ooze working it's way within him.
You'll be scourge soon

Never I will fight it.

Hopeless always has been hopeless

I don't know where to go.

Follow me and don't speak

Zhuljeta made her way to the home of the shadow priests within the war quarter nodding once to Father laterius. she showed Motoki to a hidden alcove in the wall.

Rest here.

Thank you. Where will you go.

To find your salvation...

Zhuljeta sent word by one of the Mind slaves to Dispaya

Motoki is infected, He;s in the war quarter.

Send him to me.

Some thing's coming Dispaya


Zhuljeta released the human's mind after delivering her back to the other priests and made her way back to Caer Darrow.
Upon reaching it's shore her head seemed as if it would crack in two, she fell to her knees

Such irreverence, such disobedience.

Seeing stars now from the pain in her skull, forcing her hands to keeps her from totally collapsing a drop of black ooze splashed against the back of her hand she reach a shaking hand to her nose, it came away with the stick substance again.

I think it's time for a lesson...

Then everything went black