The vaguely familiar voice rang in her ears and she glanced to the side only to glare at the speaker. “Keleseth.” Eryis bit out his name with a slight scoff and turned back to her work. “I’m surprised that you’d even remember someone as mundane and ordinary as myself.” The sarcasm was palpable and her narrow eyes fix on the san'layn once again. It had been so long since the battle against the Lich King and his minions in Northrend. Almost seemed like it was centuries ago. The years began to blur together in nothing but war-torn memories.
Eryis shook her head and pushed her papers into her bag. “I did not wish to kill myself with the magic I wielded,” she finally answered him. “I can still use it but have chosen another path.” One that might have been wrong. With the war between the Alliance and the Horde, she wasn’t as strong as she once was. Oh, she was still powerful. She’d learned the art of frost magic quicker than she thought but she still wasn’t powerful…enough. She had been as a warlock. The leader of the Black Harvest, one of the slayers of Gul’dan and defeater of Kil’jaden. But now…who was she?
“Have you come to mock?” She raised an eyebrow at him, drawing in closer to the undead elf. It was odd to see him. Had the Lich King’s sway over him been broken when Arthas was killed? Was he here on diplomacy or to cause trouble? “Or have you come to help?”
" Ah — I do have fellows who keep me up to date with names and faces, don’t flatter yourself too much there. ”
As if that was an excuse that could hold any merit, vengeance was a writhing worm that bored holes through his mind, and it took reason and responsibility to go through and web up the sensation for him to carry on. The explanation was met with a passive look of indifference, details tidily pocketed away as she spoke on her own accord. An expression of mock offense slid pinched his brows, and while the curve of an exaggerated frown couldn’t be seen on his mouth, the words he spoke were laced with the sound of it.
“ Mock? Come now, why mock such a foul tool — my kind haven’t ever been welcoming of that felfire. I’d like to pass along my support on that decision. ”
Perhaps, though, that was a worse comment then condemnation of the choice. The san’layn stepped slowly, attention turning away from the woman. A faint hum preceded his next words, as if he had needed a moment to chew on the latter question presented.
“ Perhaps a definition of ’help’ would aid me in knowing the true answer to that. I’ve heard many things are occurring that may need some aid, and some that certainly need anything but. I’ve heard the Horde is making some... interesting choices lately. ”
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