“The world had come to a stop–including Erazeran himself. Despite his experience with time itself–this was foreign. His body, locked in place–immobilized. His surroundings soon began to blur into obscurity, colors fading from existence until all that was left was a dull, grey overcast. Whispers slowly began to tickle at his ears, seeming to originate from all directions–their words unintelligible. Soon, a dark figure would manifest before him–a dark, sinister smile over its visage as its ‘words’ formed within Erazeran’s mind.
“̛H̨el̛l̛ơ aģain,̕ Eraze͡r͡a͏n͞. ̵Or ͠s̀ho̸uld̸ ̀I sa̢y͜,̢ ͡Eraz͝ér͜us.͢ ͜I m͜us͢t̨ sa̴y, ̧I d͠idn’t ́ęxp̶e͝ct҉ t͞o ́s̡e̷e҉ ̴you͡ agai҉n̵.͝ Bu̵t͘ t̕he ̷G͡am̛e wo͏rķs ҉in my̡s͠t͏ęri͢ous ͟w͝a̴y҉s, ̕d̀òe̛s͠ i̢t͞ n̕ot?”
Dark chuckles echoed from all directions as the being shook its head, slowly walking over to stand before Erazerus.
“A B̢eas̛t ͜of ̕th̸e̕ ͡S̢ys͏t̢em͝,́ ̛an͝swe̸r̶in̛g̡ ̢t̕h͠e ̧cal̛l ̴of͘ ͟t͝h̕e G̡amę. ̧He’s ̛r͢ea҉lly g̷ơing͞ aļl ͡ou̶t t̴hís̸ t̸i̕m͢e, ́h̵mm̧? How̨ d͝eĺic͝iou̶s̀.̡"͠
The laughter returned–stronger this time as the being itself shook its head in disbelief. The laughter was silenced as it ‘spoke’ again.
“Th̢e҉ ͟t͜hreat to̕ t͘h͢i̵s ͜wor̕l̢d̡–th͝is͘ ̧i̕ter͏átion-̴-i͟s̢ s͜tro͝nǵ.̨ ̀Wi҉t͘h ͢it͢s ̵current ́c̵o̸urse̵, thi͜s̸ ́wo̧r̕ld̛ w̧i̶ll͠ e̕n͜d.̢ We ͟can͢not a͞l͢lo͟w̛ t͟ḩis͡ ͡t͏o̢ h҉a͘pp͠en.͢ ̷Ou͜r w̴o҉r̡k ҉h̢as ͠c͞o͜m̶e͠ ͏t̀oo͢ ͜f̴aŗ ̨t͝o ́lo̶s̴e n͏o͘w. The̛ ͝s͠ta͡ķe̛s̢ ar҉e ͟ḩighèr ͡f҉or t͜h̨is ̢Gam͟e҉. Th̕e͘ ̡l͘oss w͡i̵l͘l no̴t ̧only ͜b̨e̸ f̢o̶r̛ ̕t̕h͞i̴s ̸worl̸d–the͏ Sy͟s̡t̨em̀ w̸il͘l͘ fa͢ce̷ ̀c̵o̧rru̸ptio͞ņ.̡ ̸Ev͜e̵n ̴y͘o͢ur ̧k͜i̴n̢d wil͠l̛ fee͜l͏ th͘e̸ ̨st͡ing̀.”
The being’s head tilted slightly to the side–its gaze held intently on Erazerus, studying him closely before it 'spoke’ again.
“The̕ Beho̴l͢der ͘h̴as a͠s̷sign͜ed͡ ͞y͞ou,͢ pe̶r̀sona̶lly.̵ Yóu͢ ar̕e̕ ̵now̵ ̡a̧ m̀e̵m̡b͢e͏r ́of̸ Th҉ȩ ҉Sa̵cr̛ileg̡e҉. T͢h̵è M͝a͜ni̛c̕ w͡i͡l̸l̷ ļe̸ad yo̢ų thr͞oug̢h̡ ̛the͟ fo̸r͞g̷ot҉t̵en c̀o̴r̷ners͠ o̧f͟ t̨he̢ ͏S̢ys͞t́em.͟ Awa͏it̶ it̵s ̨c̀a͠ll.͢"̛
A loud, ear-shattering screech of static was accompanied by a blinding white light. The grey void was now gone–the world having returned to normal. The scent of blood filled Erazerus’ nostrils as a fresh trail began to trickle from his nose.
“Time is what we want, but what -we- use worse.” -William Penn
Moments before the takeover, Erazeran had been carrying Owl on his back. It was nothing out of the ordinary really, but for people watching them walk by - well it was -strange.-Even for the Forsaken that were dead and probably had no sense of humor whatsoever. Tranquillen didn’t have what most would call an inviting feel - but for what it lacked; it possessed a great place for secrecy.
Owl shifted on Erazeran’s back, eager to get free and investigate their surroundings.
“Of course they are! You bite on my ear to get a taste? Just imagine what exotic flavor they might possess!”
It was clear Erazeran didn’t necessarily mind giving Owl his share of fun, but prior to their arrival in the Ghostlands - something was off. Owl’s eyes widen with frivolous excitement as he drops from Erazeran’s back and approaches one of the lone Apothecary’s to begin his poking torture.
Anticipating temporal anomalies should have been something he was familiar with given his nature and origination, but today proved to be a little different. Immobilized by a force he could only assume was chronomancy - he found himself chuckling with abhorrent laughter as his surroundings turned grey. It was certainly the sound of someone who reveled in chaos. At the sight of the dark figure, Erazeran smirked widely beneath his mask.
“Hello, Silhouette. It seems I surprise everyone when they can’t get rid of me. A pity, really. But if there is a game to play, I guess I can take part in the fun.”
Having been approached in his immobile state, Erazeran found himself annoyed that he wasn’t the master of this time sequence. A frustrating thing for one who abused it countless times.
What moments Erazeran had to think on the phrase, he decided to look into it later when the shadow spoke again. Azeroth once again was under the imminent threat and peril of some unwanted force. And the mention of being a force to oppose corruption - that was a new one for someone like him.
“What remains of my kind - which isn’t many for those that stuck their necks out too far.”
Erazeran felt the immobile state lifting as the Shadow left him with his objective. As far as he was concerned - he was inclined to pursue this motive. The Beholder? Manic? Sacrilege? Terms that were unfamiliar to Erazeran were reflected on for just a moment before he turned to see Owl.
The poor Forsaken he had decided to harass was certainly not experiencing the same joy Owl was. As he was about to move forward, he felt and tasted the scent of his own blood. A gloved hand swiped the liquid into view before it simply dissipated under his influence.
@the-catalysts for moving things along! @theowlsnest for mention!
