Taneel

Taneel knelt down, placing the warm pie before the headstone. No body lay beneath it, but it was still her resting place, or at least, a representation of it.

"Hey, sorry its been so long."

He stuck the tip of his wide-bladed sword in the ground behind him and leaned back against it. "I know I'm late for your birthday too. I hope the pie in good enough to make up for it."

After that, he sat quietly before the headstone. His cloak pulled close to ward off the chill as night set in.

"I didn't kill Arthas myself, like I said I was going to." He commented to the gravestone. "But we broke his army, and rumor has it, he was destroyed, so I hope that counts for something. I would've visited last year, but well, I'm sure you know all of what happened since my ship sank and I had to regain my memories." Taneel spoke to the stone again after a while.

As the night grew colder, Taneel climbed to his feet, "Well, happy birthday. Until next year, Sowelu."

Larosa held her breathe as she waited for the last drops of ink to dry on the page.  She carefully put her calligraphy brush onto it's ceramic holder and let the air escape her lungs in a sigh of relief as she looked up at the ceiling.  A little over a month later and she was finally done, and with time to spare.

The Night Elf smiled as she began rubbing her sore fingers.  She was planning on give this to him right after the toast and on the actual date, she was arranging for a shipment of "supplies" to be delievered. 

Cerwis stared Baristolth down, the large heads of two now incredibly dead Dragonkin lay at her feet.

The Night Elf looked over both heads and nodded, "You might be one of the few mortals my masters approve of. The Brood is naturally distrusting of lesser races. You've proven to me that you have the potential makings of a hero...Now, you must prove it to my master."

Cerwis held up both hands, “Wait. Wait a sec. The Brood? Which Brood? I'm tired of Dragons and I'm not..”

Lirriel put a comforting hand on her friends shoulder as Baristolth held up a hand to cut the mixed-breed off, “The Brood of Nozdormu. I need you to slay the Silithid in the nearby hives and take fragments of their carapaces. When you can carry no more, return to me."

(( Part One! ))

 Drauglos eyed the centrifuges and workers that were scattered about the room, “They're still working on the Twilight Dragonflight, I think... I suppose it would've been naive to consider the Obsidian Sanctum their one base of operations.” He snorted softly, “They must really like this place.” 

Cerwis wrinkled her nose, “It's a nice place. Real damn cheery.”

“Could use more throw pillows,” Darlain quipped. 

When she'd arrived at the usual staging ledge for those who sought entrance into the Lair, a Gnome sat perched on the ledge, waiting. Cerwis sighed and moved to sit on the railing a yard or so away, giving the stone-like female space to watch the entirety of the Molten Span. 

She didn't know how she was going to do this. Claim the head of the current Broodlord...She'd worn her heavy plate, something she knew she was going to get flak for. Cerwis rubbed her forehead and looked down at her shield, it had been far too long since she'd done any sort of defensive fighting..

 A trail of Scourge bodies lay in the wake of the five heroes who stood assembled before the Crucible of Souls.

Drauglos looked at Quel'Delar, and up at the Crucible, which glowed white-hot with magical flames. Lirriel watched back and forth between Taneel and Drauglos. The latter took a deep breath.

Taneel examined the crucible. "I think you can do this."

Drauglos nodded and slowly dipped the blade into the fire. There was a brief, bright flash of mystic energy, and he smiled at he withdrew the tempered sword. “Quel'Delar...” Taneel watched neutrally as Drauglos' smile faded. “Something's...not right. Missing,” the Half-Elf said, examining the sword.
 
Lirriel shifted on her feet. “Guess we'll have to check with Caladis again?”

“Yeah...” Drauglos wasn't hiding his disappointment.

((Apologies for not having posted any updates for so long. This picks up the morning after the events of rp-haven.com/blog/drauglos/sister_blade and rp-haven.com/blog/lirriel/massage))

Report: Negotiations with Inquisitor Marda
Sergeant Taneel BrightBlade

The negotiations with the scarlet inquisitor were quite tense. I will admit that diplomatic negotiations are not my strong point, and if I had not had Dragoon Larosa with me, it should have ended disastrously.  

I told Marda that we were in the area to find a missing dragoon and not to spy, and Larosa informed her that we were under orders not to enter the Scarlet’s territory and that Staroda had broken orders in doing so and would be reprimanded on his retrieval. Marda agreed to this, and said she would speak with her superiors on this matter but suspects Staroda Skymane can be returned within a few days., Larosa also attempted to convince her to return Delphiee on the grounds that it was the dragoons responsibility to take corrective actions since, though her initial actions were on leave, her actions now reflect on the dragoons.

Taneel stumbled from a bed, it was warm for some reason, and his head was spinning. He stumbled a bit and found a wall then groped alone it in bafflement for several moments as his memory started to return.

Mead, I’ve been drinking a whole lot. Why?

He stumbled to his knees and wretched. His thoughts still blurred but he felt a surge of anger boiling in him.

The Traitor…

Why am I still mad at Drauglos?

He tosses the priestess aside like she was nothing one day and the next is taking her hand in marriage so quickly many barely made it to the Cathedral in time…

I trust Lirriel, if she married him-

He doesn’t, he calls her stupid and naïve when he casts her aside then claims to be redeemed…

He did-

He did nothing, his claim of redemption comes from dipping a sword, a sword that he merely called in favors to create, in some magic well!

The entrance hall to Icecrown Citadel was teeming with activity -- Craftsmen, soldiers, esteemed heroes of both the Alliance and Horde. The two young human men in elaborate platemail stood, conversing, by an anvil.

"I'm assuming you know more about crafting weapons with saronite than I do, Taneel."

“I have quite a lot of experience in doing so, yes. Is this about the weapon Mograine's spoken of?” Taneel asked, looking past Drauglos. Drauglos nodded and gestured to the floor to his left, where Light's Vengeance lay in wait. Taneel eyes widened a little "Good work thus far it seems. Abomination blood and enough primordial saronite to build a castle is all you need now, right?"

“That's the idea,” he replied, leaving off the rest.

“By the way Drauglos, have you heard from Lirriel today? Or recently?”

Drauglos shifted slightly. “Not today, no.”
 

Argent Tournament Grounds

Taneel sat by the fire small fire, a bit removed from the proceedings. Beside him lay the gargantuan form of his mammoth. The great creature’s chest rose and fell slowly against the young warrior but he paid it no mind. His eyes gazed deep into the bright orange flames as he thought back to the battles of the last few days.

Flames of searing cold, huge boney blades ripping at his flesh, what had awaited them in the citadel of Icecrown had not been wholly unexpected, and several times, it had seemed as though they had gained the upper hand, but in the end, the first step into the Lich king’s castle had been more than he could handle today.

(( inspired by Drauglos' Whispers http://www.rp-haven.com/blog/drauglos/whispers))

Taneel trudged across the icy stones of a ruined street. The corpses of several young argent knights lay about on the snow. Taneel knelt beside each, saying a quick prayer and checking it for some identification before igniting it with his old lighter.

With a weary sigh he moved to the last body; the face was already showing signs of plague. The unnatural rot not slowing despite the cold, but as he checked for a name, Taneel felt the faint heartbeat and heard the knight groan in pain.

Taneel blinked in surprise as the knight opened one eye.

“Help me....” The crusader looked up pleadingly at Taneel, struggling to rise. Taneel sighed heavily, seeing flesh sag unnaturally on the arm the knight extended.

Taneel knelt before the grave. He was alone for the moment, and the night was quiet save for the rustle of leaves and the low hum of his enchanted sword. The uniform he wore was neat and ironed, it may not be a grand procession, but to him, it was an important occasion.

“The path of the light,
We each must tread,
Though yours has brought a lasting peace,
And mine may lead years on,
I bring you word
I bring you memory,
Of what transpires here.

Death’s hold weakens,
On Northrend’s shore,
Light gathers to fight
A final war.”

Taneel smiled and sat back, pulling some items from a bag nearby.

“I brought some pie, and a drink from Brewfest for you.”

The dragoon set the items before the grave, then closing his eyes, spoke softly to the night.

Taneel entered the house, smiling slightly when he saw the door to Asilia’s laboratory door open wider than usual. He stepped to it, starting to say hello, then saw that the room was unoccupied. He looked around curiously and noted the bookshelves where he kept the various tomes of necromancy he’d acquired were fairly bare. He stepped over and knelt down, scanning the books. A lot of books were gone, and they were certainly not ones he saw good use coming out of.

He quickly examined the room, the window was closed and latched, no one had come in or out that way. He gave a quick check over the rest of the house. The window of his room was likewise latched, and the door showed no sign of having the lock picked. Not that there often were.

Taneel looked about, no sign whatsoever of forced entry anywhere. Perhaps Asilia had needed the books for something?

“Its not that we were made for one another, its that we chose to devote ourselves to eachother.”
 

“While you toy with me on the side? No, don't answer. I'm not listening.”

Rose’s voice seemed to ring in Taneel’s ears as he stumped up the icy path to where his gryphon waited. He felt worried, perhaps even desperate. Had he broken the rules? Had he slipped at some point, given Rose more than he should have? He had not willingly kissed her lips, not since Asilia had returned from the dead so many months ago, and kisses on the cheek were not a crime. Lirriel had said told him that was okay in moderation.

No matter how he pondered it, Taneel still felt he’d done something horribly wrong, but could not for the life of him think what exactly it was. Nor could he think why Tygranar had suggested that he learn to dance.

((Set the morning after the previus blog))

-bzzt- “Hello?”
-bzzt- “Helllloo?”
-bzzt- “You there?”
-bzzt- “Rose? Everything alright?”
-bzzt- “This thing still works, right?”
-bzzt- “Rose, its been hours, if you’re there, at least tell me so I don’t start worrying?”
-bzzt- “Worrying now...”
-bzzt- “Oi! Rose!”

The death knight turned the device over in his hands and, failing to find a way to sever the communications, resigned himself to fate.

“She is not here currently.” He growled at the device.

-bzzt- “Who’s that?”

He wasn’t quite sure why, but the death knight couldn’t help finding the voice irritating.

“I’m a knight of the Ebon Blade. Your friend shall surely try and reach you when she returns, now cease-” -bzzt-

Poisonous green gas rose around them, Taneel coughed, blood drenching the ground in front of him. He reached out for his companions, seeing them fall to their knees, seeing them turn and rise again, faces hideously changed into the visages of undead. He looked down to see the flesh falling from his hands and tried to scream.

The blankets fell away as Taneel shot bolt upright in bed, crying out in terror. His heart raced for several moments as he looked around the momentarily unfamiliar stone room. Then he remembered where he was, and why he was alone.

Asilia was out with Jasria. Taneel sighed, curling up a bit, then reaching for the communicator Rose had given him. He halted himself mid-reach, wondering if it was really alright to turn to Rose for comfort. She’d caught him off-guard with a kiss a fair few times, he shouldn’t talk to her to try and sleep too, at least not without exploring other options.

(( Multiple photoshoped images ahead, I had to stop working on these, (I am not happy with the last one) or else they never would have been posted. Yes, I am cutting out alot of things, I suggest waiting patiently for Taneel's version for more details. :) ))

"Training is tonight," Larosa reminded herself as she pulled out her pocketwatch.  Lately, it seemed every Dragoon was searching in one way or another for Miss Zaas.  Larosa sighed as she dropped her leather shorts on her bunk and reached for the blue silk uniform.  She put her purple leather vest on underneath the tabbard and quickly headed to the chamber to meet up with everyone.

She walked in to hear Taneel say, "It seems we'll be carrying a shipment of oats."

"Oats?" Larsoa asked.

Feoderan's question was right on the heels of her's," Like the...horse feed?"

((Set last Sunday. Some spoilers for Storm Peak. more about this day shall be forth coming.))

Taneel lay in bed, his arms lightly embracing Asilia. The tail end of the harsh stress and worry that had dogged him since Zaas’s kidnapping seemed to have melted away in her arms. As his exhausted mind sunk into unconsciousness, the day’s events seemed to wash over him.

The battle of titanic warriors, Loken and Thorim, that he and Rose had unintentionally brought to pass. Watching the great green tentacles Loken strike at Thorim had been hard enough without Loken revealing how they’d been played.

But had they? Or had Loken lost his own game when he brought Thorim out of hiding. Only time, and the ventures into the heart of Ulduar, would tell.

“I lost. Unless you're changing your mind, you should be thinking of someone else first.”

"I'm sorry..." The reply was quiet, he knew she still cared for him.

“Two or three someones now that I think of it.”

“Connor, Asilia, Mandy...” A list of people who needed him, the three reasons why he had to always make it home each night. She nodded in agreement.

“I...” He tried to speak, but words refused to come. She waited patiently. Finally collecting his thoughts, he closed his eyes and spoke. "They all need me to survive and not be exiled or worse...

His eyes opened and he looked up into her shining white eyes “But I can't just abandon you.”

“I'm... trouble. Isn't family enough?”

Zaas strode through the city, serene as a frozen lake. She moved far more calmly than she felt but having already mastered the fine art of outer appearances meant that it did not matter what she felt on the inside. It did not matter that she would rather curl up and weep in a corner, submit to shaking nerves instead of keep her limbs still and steady through effort of will alone. Perhaps she -would- have rather been held at the moment and told repeatedly how everything would be alright; it would not, she knew, but such polite fictions were a blessing in such cases. And yes, she would have dearly loved to escape to her home in Dalaran, curl up in a good pair of fleecy pajamas under a blanket.

He wanted to protest. It had been a hard and painful night, how could he leave Asilia to find her way past every soldier the death knight had to throw at them on foot. Another thought let him clam his mouth shut and nod. He had no fallen for Asilia because she was a damsel in distress. She would be as likely as he to make it home alive. More if his injuries and her natural abilities were taken into account. He gave her a kiss and leapt onto his gryphon. He needed to get Jasria help now. Asilia was strong. He would see her soon enough.

He felt the horror of impending doom well up in him as Bennet described the state Delphiee was in. He would find a way, or someone else would. As always, when there was life there was hope.

Written in Darnassian on handmade paper.

I’ve done my first Patrols in the city, as a Silver Dragoon!  On my first patrol night, there were a few petty crimes.  Purse snatching, breakings, but nothing to serious and I feel sorry for the person who has to read my reports.  My writing skill are terrible in common but I have been practicing.  I have made some friends. Another sister, in this city of stone.  I thought she was playing a game of Hunt with me. turns out I was wrong.  In the end, we had tea and it was a joy to speak in our tongue and to fully understood for a while. 

We never did get to play hunt. I had to ask if it was alright to play the game, and frustratingly, Miss Zaas, had no clue what I meant.  She thought it was a flirting game, either that or I meant to hunt and kill my new friend.  We had a laugh for a moment over the misconceptions of humans,before deciding to go to the Park for a drink.

Sakarii sat up in bed, wincing. The wounds from the previous day's battle were still raw and tender, a harsh reminder of her failure. Lord Kelane had shown his confidence in her by letting her lead the expedition, and things had unraveled before they had even reached the beacon that they were supposed to destroy.

She glanced over to the other side of the room, to the empty bed and sparse shelves where Jasria had stayed in her short time as Sakarii's roommate, and a sting of betrayal added itself to the lingering sting of her wounds.

"You are n-nice....Sakarii. The path you're on w-will quickly r-remove it entirely."

Asilia sighed softly her motionless form laying against Taneel's, eyes closed a smile on her face. Laying in the bed on one side dreaming rather blissfully.

In her dream Asilia is picking flowers within Elwynn Forest, finding bright violet colored ones every few steps it seems. Not that she minded, violets were her favorite kind and they were everywhere. Rather suddenly a sinking feeling welled up in her, Asilia straightened up and began glancing around eyes flitting over the wilderness. The feeling grows and the landscape suddenly melts away into blackness, Asilia's eyes going wide in surprise.

It loomed out of the early morning mists like some misplaced monolith, some forgotten obelisk of evil. Hovering over a shattered town, fields filled with only death. Nothing stirred, all was silent, as the gryphon's wings beat steadily. The air itself seemed afraid to move near this great citedal of cruelty. Dunè gripped the reins of his gryphon, guiding him in towards the entrance at the bottom of the structure. Others followed him, fellow crusaders, all on a mission. Into this sad statue of desolation.

It started out well, as they struck into this structure's hidden faculties and many surprises. The Lich's horrid and beastly spiders fell easily, though this quick and crushing victory was soon replaced. These poor Argent Crusaders soon found themselves out matched and ill equiped to deal with the black fortress. Naxxramas.

A powerful lich had been vanquished, but at what cost?

((<Spoilers for Sholazar Basin questchain.>))

Taneel looked down at the wolvar’s crumpled body. The wolvar tribe had dubbed him a traitor and ordered him out of their land for going to help an injured gorloc, and he had been more than happy to put aside ‘negotiations’ with the savage brutes after seeing how they treated the gorloc tribes.

Dear Journal,

Things are going pretty good here. Things are crazy different than what I'm use to, but I think I'm starting to get use to it.

Dear Journal,

It's been so long since I've tried to write anything in here. Not like I haven't had anything to write about. Light, I have too much to write about, guess that's half my problem.