still find it hilarious that all the death knights are going around wearing armor made of an evil metal refined from an ore that's literally the blood of an evil god, and the metal (which is evil) makes the living go insane if they're around it too long. and the leadership of both factions just keeps allowing their death knights to wear this shit into capital cities and around important people. unbelievable
I was unable to work on my stuff in May so I asked @artofalassa to draw another commission for me. This time another wholesome image from RP we are writing with @adunobaka. We were wondering how a meeting between Darion and Anduin would look like as they are both busy with stuff and never had time to talk. I tried to translate it into English but it's long and I don't know if I will manage, but I will try. Because the conversation is worth it even it doesn't start well, but then it changes and it's still my favorite thing we wrote together.
Acherus hadn’t changed a bit. Oddly, it was here that Avehi had the closest sense of coming home. She hated it; of all the places she wished felt like home, Acherus was certainly not one of them. The Exodar, Stormwind, even the wilds like her trusted friend Mierne; these places were far more fitting a 'home' for her, or so she believed. Yet nothing felt as familiar or - dare she say right - as setting hoof in this Scourge-built flying fortress. Even in light of recent events, being inside Acherus' walls again felt familiarly comfortable to Avehi. Perhaps innately? Or even longingly, reminiscent of days long past…
Still she pressed on, venturing further inside the Necropolis - brimming with determination. She came here with a purpose, and that purpose drove her. She’d been at odds with the Ebon Blade for a long time, now. But it wasn’t always the case; when she first broke free of the Lich King’s dominion, the Ebon Blade was an organization of vindication. But somewhere along the way, she felt they had lost sight of that.
To be fair, though… so had she.
She, too, had changed a lot since the incursion on Light’s Hope. She felt removing herself from the Blade would somehow keep her from succumbing to dark practices. But things weren’t so black and white in her eyes anymore. What she once felt was abhorrent became justifiable. Methods she wouldn’t have considered in life seemed viable in death. It worried her at first; but she came to realize that this change in perspective wasn’t altering, but broadening. In life, she’d been so focused on one path. One right way, where everything else was wrong - the illusion of the Light. She was a zealot. She saw that now, only by interacting with other zealots post-mortem. Death had opened her eyes, and allowed her to see many paths the Light had blinded her to in the past. And now, spared from the delusions brought on by her people’s sacred power, she saw more and more with each passing day.
The Ebon Blade wasn’t perfect, she knew. Like her, they’d made mistakes. But from what she was hearing and seeing, they hadn’t lost their legacy of vindication. Not yet. That was why she had returned here to Acherus - to reconcile.
It would be no small feat, she knew; already, as she had arrived, Ebon Ravagers and Enforcers congregated behind her while she made her way to the Heart of Acherus. Weapons drawn. They knew who she was. Still, she continued as far inside as she was allowed, driven by her determination to see this through.
“--Avehi, the Adamant.” came a deep - yet oddly soothing - voice.
Avehi’s tail twitched. She recognized it immediately. She turned to its source; a Tauren by the name of Torme Wraithgrain. They’d worked closely in the past, combating the Lich King’s foul Scourge all throughout Northrend together. Torme was a force to be reckoned with; strong, both physically and with the necrotic power surging through all Death Knights… and yet she exhibited wisdom and serenity rarely found among them. Avehi had always respected her for that.
“Torme.” she dipped her head to the Death Knight, in greeting.
“You’ve returned. Unexpected, considering…” Torme approached, not nearly as threateningly as the surrounding Ravagers had.
“I have.” Avehi nodded, defiantly. “I’m here to explain myself to the Four. My actions are justified, and I’ve come to make them see that.”
Quiet murmurs broke out among the gathered Knights, before quickly becoming silenced as Torme raised her hand to them. The response was more than just respect… but answering to authority. Avehi raised her brow, curiously. What station had Torne attained to command such obedience?
The Tauren’s eyes narrowed, as she looked Avehi over - gauging her intentions, as well as sizing her up. Slowly she shook her head.
“... The Four are with the Deathlord. And the Deathlord is in Icecrown.” Torme disclosed, neatly folding her hands in front of her. “They all may be there for some time.”
“What are they doing there?” Avehi frowned, tone bordering on accusatory.
Torme didn’t respond, verbally. But it was plain enough to see in her slow exhale and subtle eye shifting that she knew full well the reason; she had no inclination to say, was all. Instead, she shook her head in dismissal of the question. That, of course, only irritated Avehi. The Draenei huffed.
“Fine.” she scoffed. “I’ll return later, when they’ve concluded their business in Icecrown.”
She turned to depart - but the Ebon Enforcers didn’t seem at all inclined to let her go. They kept their runic weapons drawn, boxing her in within the Heart of Acherus. Avehi’s eyes flared, tail twitching. Her hand slowly moved up as she began to reach back for Rokaa, her hammer...
“--You can explain yourself to the Convocation.” Torme interjected, once more raising her hand to stay the Enforcers. “The Four have charged us with managing the affairs of the Ebon Blade in their absence. We will hear what you have to say.”
“‘We’?” Avehi turned back to Torme quickly, brow askew.
That explained it; she was one of the governing Knights of Acherus. It both surprised Avehi, and didn’t; such progression made sense for those who remained with the Blade. She wondered how far she would’ve advanced had she kept under their banner… it didn’t matter now. Torme was a sensible choice, at least. As thoughtful and pensive as she was, she was sure to make well-informed and thought-out decisions to guide the Ebon Blade.
Torme nodded once, simply. Bowed her head, really. A peaceable, modest gesture, like most of the movements the serene Tauren made. She treated it like a courtesy, offering Avehi a favor. And in all reality, it probably was one. The alternative seemed… violent. Avehi exhaled a sigh, and nodded in return. If she could pick and choose to whom she was to explain herself, Torme would most assuredly be one such person.
“Who else is a part of the Convocation?”
“Dread Commander Thalanor, or course.” Torme replied. “As is Lord Darrows, Dorann Rimeforge and--”
“Betrayer!”
A harsh voice called out from within the crowd. The assembly of Ebon Knights parted, making way for the approach of a large, aggressive-looking Orc. Avehi’s gaze narrowed at him, as he approached.
“Hmph. Grek’thor…” she acknowledged the Orc, tone dripping venomously as she uttered his name.
“... Yes. Grek’thor Spinereaver. You seem to recognize each other.” Torme sighed, stepping forward to position herself between the two. “We five govern Acherus, and maintain the peace among our kind.”
The Tauren looked pointedly to Grek’thor, but he hardly noticed; his snarling attentions were focused solely on Avehi. Avehi’s lips curled into a snarl in response, a reflexive gesture upon seeing him. Like Torme, Avehi knew Grek’thor from Northrend, fighting side by side with him in the early days of the Ebon Blade. But unlike Torme, she and Grek’thor didn’t get along. At all. Both had clung to their opinions and prejudices from their prior lives, the Draenei and the Orc finding one another deplorable - to put it mildly. The aggressive tendencies brought about by undeath exacerbated that age-old hatred, resulting in what may be the most volatile of Avehi's relationships. Their time working together was short... and violent… but both had managed to walk away from one another unscathed.
For now.
“I want this honorless filth in chains!” the Orc demanded.
Avehi let out a scoff! Torme at least made sense as a member of the Convocation. But Grek’thor? This arrogant, brute? Tail switching in irritation, she waved a dismissive hand at the Orc, turning up her nose at him.
“I’m amazed the Convocation lets a thick-skulled Orc like you aid in making decisions!” Avehi shot back, plated hands balled into fists. “Try and bind me yourself, if you’re so inclined! It’ll be the last thing you do on this mortal plane!”
“Unsurprising! The Betrayer threatens to slay yet another of her Ebon kin?”
“I didn’t come here with any intention or reason to kill you, Grek’thor - don't tempt me with one!”
“Grrrr… you want a reason?! I’ll rip those horns from your head and gut you with them!”
Grek’thor rushed at Avehi, nearly barreling through Torme to close in! The Draenei practically roared as she reached back to unsheath her hammer - but she never got the chance. Torme was quick to break the two up, pushing both of them apart with considerable unholy force before they could come to blows. Her otherwise-calm and collected tone raised with authority, frigid winds swirling around her in a vortex of piercing cold. The two would-be combatants could only stagger back - as did a few gathered spectators.
“ENOUGH!”
An unsettling hush fell over the Heart, as Avehi and Grek’thor stared one another down. The winds abated. Torme straightened, resuming her serene posture, as she turned to Avehi. She frowned in disapproval, beckoning one of the Enforcer to approach. Another face familiar to Avehi, the Enforcer was another Draenei named Tovaar. He stood out to her because he never spoke a word to her - or anyone - as long as she'd known him. Silently, as expected, he approached, lips pressed to a line. She'd been kind to him in the past… the conflict of how he was to treat her now in turn evident enough on his face beneath his hood.
“Though he failed to broach the issue properly… Grek’thor is right.” Torme nodded once. “Given your offenses, Avehi, you’ll need to be bound for the security of the Hold.”
The ghostly echo of a smug and satisfied grunt emanated from the Orc, as he crossed his arms. Tovaar pulled a set of manacles out and opened them up. As much as she was inclined to… she didn’t resist. Instead, she kept a neutral gaze on Tovaar, and nodded once compliantly. The manacles latched tight, keeping her wrists practically touching. But more than that, she could feel her energy abating as runes along the cuffs began to pulse. Not only bound, but weakened as well. She grunted disapprovingly - more so as her hammer was relieved of her by Tovaar. He held with a measure of care, at least. She gave a cursory tug, testing the security of the manacles, before scoffing.
“I’m certain you’ll see no reason to keep me bound after I’ve said my piece.” she stated firmly, and nodded to Torme.
The Tauren turned from Avehi, folding her hands neatly into one another behind her back as she retreated further into the Heart of Acherus. She bid Avehi - and her Enforcer escort - to follow.
“We shall see.”
Word spread quickly through the Necropolis. Soon enough, Avehi was surrounded by the whole host of Acherian Knights who had come to watch and listen. They surrounded the pit where the Draenei stood. Alone. She recalled this pit well; upon being risen, she was put up against another Knight in this very ring to fight to the final death, and prove herself as a worthy soldier in the Lich King's armies. Ten, eleven, perhaps twelve prospective Knights fell by her freshly forged rune blade that day. Looking around the pit now, she could still visualize where each of them had fallen… before their corpses were dragged away for parts. That wasn't the only time she'd stood here, either; practicing here on training days after the Lich King fell, she honed her skills, tempered her Hunger, and grew more accustomed to undeath.
Now, standing in the center of the Heart of Acherus, Avehi had never felt so vulnerable. Bound in shackles, relieved of her weapon, with hundreds of fellow Death Knights peering at her. The manacles continually drew upon her necrotic energy, stunting the very essence of her power. She might as well have been armless; even then, she could defend herself better if things went poorly. But like this, there was no way out. Bound, crippled, surrounded... She expected it. One way or another, she knew the Blade would restrain her. At least they were willing to hear her out, rather than just lock her away in a cage somewhere. It made her no less trapped, all the same.
The only way out was to appeal to the Convocation. They all gathered, one by one, atop the ledge of the pit. At the center of the five stood Dread Commander Thalanor, an elf of some repute - both pre- and post-death. In life, he served as a Ranger Commander, fighting until his last breath to defend his people's sacred Sunwell. In undeath, he rose the ranks quickly as a trusted Commander, both to the Lich King, and the Ebon Blade as they all found sovereignty. Now, he was named the Second in Command of Acherus itself, answering only to the Four Horsemen and the Deathlord. His leadership talents were unquestionable.
To his left, Lord Geoffrey Darrows, a former Kirin Tor wizard-turned-Necromancer brought into undeath when Dalaran was attacked. He had a reputation for being reclusive; how he came to become a member of the Convocation eluded Avehi. Perhaps due to his vast arcane knowledge? It was all Avehi could figure, anyway.
To Lord Darrows' left stood Dorann Rimeforge, a dwarven smith known across all of Azeroth. Avehi knew him well; the two shared a passion for crafting that even undeath couldn't diminish. They forged all manner of weapons and armor together, right here in Acherus. He seemed to recognize her, too; though unlike Tovaar, he wore no conflicted look on his bearded face. If anything… he looked disappointed. Avehi hoped after hearing her explanation, he'd understand… and given their positive relationship, vouch for her release.
Torme and Grek'thor stood to the Dread Commander's right, both peering at Avehi; neutrally and with contempt, respectively. Torme would see reason, Avehi suspected. That she was willing to hear out the Draenei at all was sign enough of that. By the same token, she was equally certain Grek'thor would do all he could to see her punished to the highest extent. He was definitely her biggest obstacle in this.
"Hmph. We've gathered - now speak your piece, Betrayer!" he barked, as the Heart fell silent. "Let's see this done."
Avehi swallowed hard, before clearing her throat. She had to calm herself - rising to Grek'thor's goading now, as she did before, would end all this before it began. She couldn't afford that. She still had a promise to keep…
"It has come to my attention that I'm wanted by the Ebon Blade." she began. "Respectfully, I feel this is in error. I'm here to explain why."
The Convocation all looked to one another, as hushed murmurings washed over the gathered Knights. Despite her heavily compromised position, Avehi retained her confidant poise.
"You're wanted for murdering a high ranking Ebon Blade official! Unprovoked!" Lord Darrows replied, incredulously. "What possible explanation could you have for doing that?"
"Do yeh deny it, lass?" Dorann added.
Avehi shook her head.
"I don't deny it," Avehi shook her head, "but it was not unprovoked. Tylveris Corpsedancer attacked me, and people close to me, in an effort to retrieve that artifact for the Ebon Blade. I acted in self defense."
The Draenei was met with puzzled expressions from all the Convocation but Grek'thor - who only continued to glare. They spoke lowly to one another, shaking their heads and shrugging…
"...What artifact?" Torme asked.
"I… don't know what it was called." Avehi shook her head, frowning. "Whatever artifact you told her to retrieve. Either way, her methods were--"
"--Tell us about the artifact!" Grek'thor barked.
Her tail flickered again, lips twitching as she resisted the urge to snarl back at the Orc. She had to keep composure...
"It was a bracelet of some kind. It imbued the wielder with immense power. Tylveris was seeking it to empower herself, but… it was destroyed when I killed her." she explained, calmly. "I’m told that originally, it was discovered by someone named Kholdiir Dunbar… and ultimately brought about his demise."
"Are we supposed t' know who that is?" Dorann huffed.
"--Some of us do." Lord Darrows interjected. "She speaks of one of the Lost Foci. It is said Dunbar discovered one, and - like she mentioned - it cost him his life. Such power is not for mortals to wield."
"Why was Corpsedancer seeking this relic, then?" Torme asked.
Avehi blinked. Her brow furrowed, shoulders shrugging. How was she supposed to know that?
"She did so at the Ebon Blade's command… didn't she?"
Silence was answer enough. The Convocation looked to one another, conferring silently concerning this new information. It wasn't hard to piece together; Tylveris acted on her own in pursuit of the artifact. It all made Avehi feel a lot better about coming clean. She'd intended to protest the methods Tylveris used, and explain her actions on killing her was self defense. But this was a much cleaner justification.
"Tch... If what yer sayin' is true… it aligns too closely with other concerns 'bout Tylveris Corpsedancer that this Convocation's had fer some time." Dorann explained. "T' answer yer question… nae. Th' Ebon Blade dinnae instruct Tylveris t' seek down such a relic."
"She was honorless." Grek'thor added, with a grunt. "She rose the ranks doing underhanded dealings. We've long suspected she'd make an attempt to climb higher… by any means necessary."
"Rumors and whisperings of Corpsedancer's plans to emancipate the Shadow Vault from the Ebon Blade have circulated for some time… but nothing was ever proven." Lord Darrows elaborated. "If she was seeking out one of the Lost Foci in secret… it likely wasn't for the benefit of the Blade."
This was all excellent to hear. Not just because Avehi was further justified in killing Tylveris, but hearing the Convocation's concern about her actions proved they weren't as morally bankrupt as she feared they were. Torme, Dorann, the Dread Commander… even Grek'thor, to a degree, all being in a position of power among the Ebon Blade, expressing concerns about malicious Knights, and striving to maintain peace… it was refreshing.
"Hm. Sounds as if I actually did the Blade a favor by killing her." Avehi smirked.
"Hmph! It may excuse her death, but what about Salynna Dawnbane?" Grek'thor scowled. "Murdered right here in Acherus just six weeks ago! Do you deny involvement in that?”
Avehi never learned her name, but she knew precisely who Grek’thor was talking about; the elf that raised Unkhra’huun… against her will. She remembered the encounter well. Her terrified demeanor, her eyes - cut from her head, by what Avehi suspected was her own hand. The way she begged for death…
"..Kill me.. please. I can not bear it anymore.. please.. I just keep seeing them.. bleeding, pustules, diseased, end it, PLEASE!"
The Draenei shook her head, and let out a sorrowful sigh. She didn’t wish for it to go as it had, but she had no choice. In truth, the elf had taken her own life, before Nedemus bashed her head against the cold stone wall - assuring her merciful death was final.
“... I was involved in that. But you must know that, too, was for a good reason.”
“Pray tell… what reason?” Torme crossed her arms.
“She travelled to Auchindoun, and raised an Auchenai Death Shepherd.” Avehi informed them. “She did this against her own will… and the will of the Ebon Blade. Her hand was forced, and her mind was lost. Killing her was a kindness.”
“Outrageous! What proof do you have?” Grek’thor growled.
“What proof do you need? Surely you’ve heard the reports - a Death Knight killing priests in Stormwind? He’s dangerous as he is now, and someone raised him for a reason!” Avehi snapped back, frowning - her composure failing as she began to argue with Grek’thor. “How long before the whole of Azeroth points the blame on Acherus?”
The crowd murmured louder, concern in every echoing voice. Torme stomped her hoof against the cold stone floor, silencing the masses quickly. She sighed.
“Your point is valid… we’ve been made aware of the incident to which you refer.” she nodded. “It appears you know a great deal more about it than we do.”
“I’m working with the Auchenai to find out who did this and why.” Avehi explained. “Coming to Acherus and finding Salynna was a part of that investigation.”
“Then why didja run, lass?” Dorann piped up.
“I… could not be hindered from my investigation.” she admitted.
“Then… why have you come back now?” Torme followed up.
“Because I need your help as much as you need mine. Finding out who raised the Death Shepherd benefits all of us as much as it benefits the Auchenai.” she declared, firmly. “I can’t continue investigating while looking over my shoulder for Enforcers and Hunters.”
She stepped towards the Convocation… and knelt down. This was it; she had to place her unlife in their hands, hoping they saw the reason in her actions. Supplication seemed appropriate, considering what was at stake.
"I came to face judgment. I'm sure I'm as tired of running as you are of pursuing." she sighed. "I've had my own misgivings about the Ebon Blade in the past. But if you're truly an organization set on keeping the peace among our kind… you know that helping in this investigation is the right decision."
The Convocation all looked to one another, before gathering to deliberate. They conferred in hushed whispers so low, they still couldn't be heard in the dead-silence that permeated Acherus. Avehi remained still, head hung as she stared at the ground. Her tail betrayed her anxiety in this moment. She was placing a lot of faith in the Convocation. And she hadn't placed faith in anything for a long, long time.
After a moment, the five of them formed up once more, towering over the Draenei. Torme nodded once to Tovaar, subtly. The Enforcer stepped into the pit… Avehi's hammer in hand.
"Th' Convocation's reached a decision, lass." Dorann stated.
"After hearing your detailed explanations, and in light of your… assistance… in keeping that artifact out of Tylveris Corpsedancer's malicious hands…” Lord Darrows continued.
“... We’ve agreed to pardon your actions against the Ebon Blade.” Torme nodded once, firmly.
Tovaar placed the hammer back in Avehi’s hands - and with a fluid action, unlatched her manacles. They fell loose, caught by the Enforcer before he stepped back. Avehi stood, exhaling a sigh as she felt her power - both innate and resonate with her trusted weapon - flow through her once more. She nodded appreciatively to Tovaar, before sheathing her hammer. Her eyes returned then to the Convocation.
“Thank you.” she dipped her head, politely.
“... With some conditions.” Torme added.
“Hmph. You’ve been operating as a rogue agent too long, Draenei.” Grek’thor grunted. “Whatever your reasons, your actions reflect on the Ebon Blade as a whole. If you want the Blade’s help in this investigation, you’ll do so as a member of the Blade once again.”
Dread Commander Thalanor finally spoke, stepping forward to the ledge separating Avehi and the Convocation. His eyes pierced hers with authority, as he nodded once.
“This is your only option.” he stated… tone as cautionary as it was inviting.
Avehi nodded once more as well, expression neutral. This, too, was expected. She knew burying the hatchet with the Ebon Blade would come with such a cost. But in a way, she was happy about it. She’d seen now, first-hand, that the Ebon Blade had reasonable Knights among their leadership. She respected the Convocation… some members more than others… but enough that she felt acting under the Ebon banner again would be… positive. Like old times. Whether she liked it or not… Acherus was her home once more.
“May it be so.”
~*~
(( @miernethepersevering / @kidcatgemini and @nedemus / @prancingmad for mentions. Unkhra’huun belongs to @archmage-stillwater ))
