#solreave

[vaincraft-blog]

@solreave  from  here.

A  HALF-SCOFF,  half-laugh  whistles  out  from  his  nostrils,  the  regent  lord’s  eye  flicking  off  to  the  side.  it  always  came  back  to  that,  didn’t  it?  he,  the  enigmatic  and  strong  public  figure  that  was  meant  to  lead  their  people  into  a  new  age  of  power  and  glory.  that  was  what  the  arcane  sentries  were  spewing  every  hour,  wasn’t  it?  

but  aethas  was  young.  so  young  in  fact  that  lor’themar  had  been  HESITANT  about  his  involvement  in  dalaran  to  begin  with.  but  time  and  time  again,  this  ‘young’  man  had  proven  himself  loyal  and  undeniably  useful.    

 ❛  you  are  beginning  to  sound  even  wiser  than  our  elder  people,   ❜        he  says  finally,         ❛    it  is  possible  that  we  had  misjudged  you.  ❜

[necroarchy]

@solreave

     “ I wasn’t so foolish to think my intrusion would go unnoticed. ”

     Or that diplomacy is a tool he can wield and leverage against the human who reinvented himself as lord of the dead. Put that way – the only way to put it – this, then, is nothing short of a calculated risk. What is there for the Scouge if the Burning Legion succeeds? What, indeed.

     “ I know the blade lies within these halls. All I ask is the opportunity for a champion of worth to use it against a greater enemy. ”

      Aethas expects, concession or not, there might be a difficult time stopping that same champion from trying regardless. They know the risks, as does he.

    “And yet still you intrude.”

     Apologies if he does not bow and scrape and simper, mortal, as the sting of outrage burrows deeper and the full extent of their daring makes itself known to him. Incomprehensible. Intolerable. Is this all it takes, a short-lived death and five years of relative quiet before the rats grow bold and, at the first pang of hunger, come charging fecklessly into his larder?

    He is owed better.

    “You’re very polite for a thief - Sunreaver, isn’t it?” The memory of a memory rears up - something about the old Blue Aspect, the Violet Hold - irrelevant, all of it - for he recognizes suddenly exactly the creature whom even now blazes a path through the newly-refurbished Crimson Halls.

    Isn’t it so very nice of them, he thinks viciously, to deliver one of his slayers right inside his doorstep.