As the Wicker Man Burns

[Nikodemos]

Spoiler:

This IC post follows (the most recent lol) kidnapping of Faelara. The event post will retain all details concerning the eventual rescue and what not, do refrain from inquiring here. As that is my only concern, here is some creepy music if you enjoy such additional media with your readings.

As frightfully clad revelers mingled and in celebration, made light of the fears that plague the small and superstitious, one stood alone in preparation of a terror far more ghastly than any ghoul or spook known amongst the living. Hycis observed the festivities with a cold, dispassionate remiss common to those consigned to sinister intent, her gaze returning frequently to her quarry. Bitter abhorrence enveloped in covetousness permeated her consciousness as the merry folk danced before her in the ever elusive sun’s warmth. Soon she would dance amongst them and such simple sensations would once more, become hers to possess. The she-wolf was the solution.

She’d had brief exchange with the woman earlier in the day, though the intensity of her dark aspiration had nearly taken hold of reason. Had not the need for a distraction weighed heavily upon her mind, the subsequent abduction might have failed in that moment. “You are with child?” She had inquired, to which the she-wolf responded simply.

“With children.”

Hycis offered the woman a heartfelt congratulation and promptly withdrew herself from the temptation laid afore her. In truth, the well wishes were intended solely for her own inevitable victory. Even the most depraved of criminals would feel sorrow or revulsion when contemplating the she-wolf’s fate; Hycis, in her madness experienced only a twisted sense of hope for coming days. Mustering a restless patience akin to the waiting grave, she settled into the crowded masquerade and awaited the fall of night.

The shroud of twilight swathed the dingy port city of Ratchet in darkness and the celebration dwindled to a close; the revelers gathering together in solemn reverence for the final event. And as the wicker man burned Hycis made her move.

[ImagenAshyun]

              It had to happen on a night of festivities.





              The raven raced to the skies and dove to the below port town as smoke rose and shaded the moon with its black breath. The goblins turned their heads as the wings flapped over them, a desperate cry emitting from its beak before it dives to the ground. Before them, a druid night elf formed. Kantado, frightened of the incident, shouts to the authorities: "A kidnapping has occurred!"




              Notes were taken. Mumbles were passed. The goblins weren't particularly happy, as kidnapping often does bad business. The remainders of the festival weren't exactly rushing with fear and worry either. For some, it was another kidnapping. Nevermind the victim was with children. Just another kidnapping.



              A sad reaction.









              Still.


              As his eyes lifted to Elune, the saddened druid felt regretful. The first few hours of the festival was to perform music, then the rest, stand on guard. He was in Bear form at the time.... but apparently, it didn't deter the actions of violence. Lost in contemplation, Kantado would stay in Ratchet, seated at the top of the hill with lute in hand. No word yet from the goblins. No leads. He doesn't know Faelara at all, or her kidnapper. Strangers. Still. The lack of panic and the fairly downplayed reactions disturbed him. He thought there'd be more alert granted this partygoer was expecting. No, the festivities were the bigger focus. Perhaps that this is the kidnapper's goal.

              I still haven't gotten those swords for you, Isolia, he'd think to himself. I'm sorry I didn't react fast enough when you fell ill and cursed. Now, you have a long road to recovery. I feel this incident wouldn't have happened if I had taken action sooner. I know I can do better.

              The lute is set down. Elune watches over, her silvery eyes cast upon the remnants of the burnt wicker. Risen woes, lifted sorrows. The time for action is now.

              The raven took to the skies once more. This time, he seeks for a voice as hollow as air trapped in ice, for eyes like frozen waters. Creatures who make blood boil. Keepers of the Archerus Gates.

[Hawk]

A stranger approached abruptly. A Death Knight. She asked some questions and then simply left without a word. The way she spoke and moved suggested she came for a purpose, not for pleasantries. Something was in her mind. Something...

It immediately aroused his suspicions, especially after his recent misadventure bringing the tally up to 3 occasions where he was abducted against his will and thrown into some wretched pit. Plus, it didn't't matter how many Death Knights he would meet that were "good", they were still undead abominations that thrive on death and misery. Every single one had earned Mokaku's distrust in some shape or form, and that day had only reinforced his beliefs. He had remained at Faelara's side since he had arrived and watched Hycis like a hawk for the rest of the evening. But the costume parade had distracted his attention, and there was little doubt in his mind that Faelara would've eventually pursuaded him to go up there.

Thus, he did. He couldn't deny that there was a small measure of pride in his heart as he left the stage after nearly scaring some Draenei to death. To his surprise he had even won the contest and received a reward in the shape of a mysterious card. He had yet to unlock its ability but was told that it would be useful to him.

He rejoined the crowd, still watching her. The Death Knight hadn't even looked their way for the entire evening. Did she know the Troll was watching her every move? Maybe she did. It only made his paranoia swell, and Faelara's attempt to soothe it only provoked an quick burst of anger.

"No, Faelara! You're being naive! You cannot trust anyone anymore save for those close to you. All are guilty!"

After a pause to realise what had just left his lips he uttered an apology, but he knew that the words had left a sting. He grew silent and reflected on his last three words. All are guilty. He was beginning to sound like the thing he masqueraded as. With a deep exhale he attempted to dismiss the thought and return to the fesitivities. Well, his eye was still on Hycis, so he didn't do much celebrating.


Soon, the Wickerman was engulfed in flames. It was a beautiful sight watching the flames dance and eat away at the straw. But he began to see something in the flames that he didn't think anyone else did. A pair of eyes, staring into his soul. He heard a loud voice in his head, making him deaf to everything else around him.

"You're not finished yet, mortal." The element of Fire had only rarely spoken to him on its own accord.

The eyes peered elsewhere, and Mokaku followed the gaze. He didn't even have time to react. Faelara was already dragged into the gate by the time his blast of fire was sent flying, scorching the earth. He hastily spun about, looking to the still burning Wickerman, but the eyes of Fire had departed.

Mokaku could feel a hatred burning in his chest more intense than the inferno roaring before him.

"If that rotting piece of filth touches her children, I'll find her in the afterlife and make her wretched existence in life look like paradise."

[Nikodemos]

Poor girl.

The persistent sound of broom against stone echoed against the cold stone walls amidst the gargoyle's occasional shriek. Perched high upon a series of suspended chains, it observed Stia at work with ravenous intent, held only in check by their mistress’s command. As she engaged in her duties with a silent diligence she risked the occasional glance at the captive; the pity she felt for the girl, soon to awaken and find her nightmare to be reality once more. The analgesic she had injected into the girl’s vein was performing as intended and did not seem to have any ill effect on the mother or her unborn children. She slept in stillness, unaware for a time of the horror that had befallen her, though a distraught expression crept sporadically upwards from the murky depths of unconsciousness.

Her children however, were not at rest and Stia watched as they kicked and rolled within their mother’s womb, innocent and ignorant of their tragic fate. Though no heart beat within her rotten corpse and tears no longer fell, the sadness within whatever passed for Stia’s soul quivered with a forgotten intensity. Stia was Forsaken no more. She heeded her mistress’s every whim and was little better than the mindless scourge that ambled about the plague ridden lands beyond her sanctuary of stone. Though her sole desire echoed that of her mistress, Hycis could not be right in this. Such travesty could not bring about that which they sought, only more death. The touch of her bony hand found its way to her face; to the rusted iron plate that sealed her thoughts from audible existence. It was in times like these that her compulsory silence proved a blessing.

Hycis remained in her chamber, her eyes closed as she reclined upon her sofa. A common practice, though Stia did not believe that she truly slept. Perhaps a silent requiem for the requirements of the living, perhaps she merely enjoyed reverie in a cerebral sense. Regardless, Stia was not partial to brooding upon the nefarious musings her mistress likely entertained. She looked to her free hand, only then realizing that she hovered over the sleeping captive.

A mercy?

She lifted the wicked blade high, her intent now clear in her mind. She gazed over the peaceful serenity belonging to those who would dream; an escape from the horrors of bleak existence, if only for a brief time. How she envied the young woman: beautiful, life in the superlative, full with child. But she did not envy her fate.

But the mistress…

Faelara turned slightly in her slumber, the soft rattle of her binding chains accompanying the persistent sound of broom against stone. High above the gargoyle shrieked, its gaze once more following Stia as she preformed her duties in taciturn exactitude.

Poor girl.

[Erynn]

This place...it was a nightmare. The stench of death was thick in the air, the feeling of something watching present at all times.

What...is this place?

She was bound to a table the first day, the chains not completely restricting her movements at this moment in time, but restricting nonetheless. She awoke inside a building of dark, aged stone, two of the rooms containing statue-like abominations. She could feel them staring at here, even when she hadn't looked back at either of them. There was another room directly behind her, the veils making it a bit difficult to see into the room itself. She was hungry, and she'd realized she hadn't taken her medicine in a while.

Everything happened so fast...

One minute she was having fun with friends, the next she was ripped away from them all, now being held for...something. She felt uneasy in this place, the table with the rotted meat and bones not helping her in the slightest. It took her a little while to notice the undead working not so far away from her, the poor undead having rusted iron sealing her mouth. It didn't appear that this undead enjoyed being here either, judging from the look in her eyes as she noticed her awake. Fear could be seen just by looking at Faelara as her kidnapper appeared through the back room, the woman terrified by her just being here.

Upon speaking to her, she was told that it "wasn't personal", of which she had trouble believing. In her head she wondered why she was the one taken, this woman who had endured much over the last few months of this pregnancy. She was hinted that it wasn't about her, but the children she carried in the womb instead. This...insane woman wanted her children for something...but Faelara had to do what she could to prevent her from doing whatever it was she had planned. It was now that her children awoke, the pains she had whenever she didn't take the medicine arising soon afterwards. After the death knight spoke more to her, a screeching came from above. Faelara could no longer hold herself together as she recognized that screech...the screech of a gargoyle. The gargoyle was one of great size, compared to the others she had seen in the past. The expectant mother couldn't stop herself from screaming, tears flowing from her eyes as scenes of the past flashed through her mind, her brother being ravaged by gargoyles in the past, friends suffering the same fate, even her own close encounter what left her blind. The insane woman called the monster away after a while, offering her food. Though Faelara hungered, she didn't trust the food that was being offered. It was not long after that she was injected with something that put her under once more...

I have...to get out of here...

She dreamed of a few things that night, some of those dreams turning to nightmares. She thought of Zairoth, her husband. The last time she saw him, he was getting home from a long day. She gave him the same tight hug she always gave him, ended with a kiss before she headed to Ratchet. Was this the last time she'd be able to hold him in her arms? The last time she'd see him...while she herself lived? And now her girls, Solaria and Mya. Would these two be taken from her before they had the chance to breathe the air she herself breathed? These were among the many things she asked herself that night...

Maybe...Maybe this was all just a nightmare?

She awoke on the second day in this hell much more subtly than the day before, the woman trying her hardest to pretend she was still under. "Stia, bring the brand. I would not resort to harsher means." She knew it was best to stop her act, and instead spoke out to her. As the two talked more, Faelara learned what the plan was. Use the souls of her children to give life to this insane death knight. The undead known as Stia tightened the chains on command, Faelara's limbs being stretched out to full length and making it impossible for her to move. Faelara tried and tried to tell this knight the truth...this wasn't going to work, she was not going to become living again, but the woman would not listen. Something clicked in her head as time drew on, "...There is one place she could go to and have her wish fulfilled." She thought to herself. As she was about to put her plan into action, pain shot to her hand as it was cut open, the blood being put in a bowl next to her. Doing her best to cope with the pain, she began talking about the place known as Northwind, the area where even the dead were given life...or so it seemed. Faelara was careful to leave out the dangers of that area, doing her best to make it seem like a nice place to be...when it was anything but that. It seemed as if she had bought into Faelara's plan to turn her towards that place, though she insisted on continuing the 'ritual'. Faelara knew it wouldn't work in bringing her back to life...but she feared of what it may do to her babies. With her part supposedly over for the day, the insane woman ordered the undead to inject her once more with what was used before. It was now that Faelara remembered that she hadn't eaten, but it was too late to do anything about that now, as sleep overcame her once more...

She won't succeed...but that still puts us in danger. We need help, soon...

[Nikodemos]

Hycis sat naked and alone upon her sofa, the drab room’s only furnishing. Tattooed in the blood of her captive, the dark runes incasing her cold flesh were dry and had begun to crack. The ritual of the mother was complete, however and her body was now attuned in a manner that would provide a suitable vessel for the unborn souls. She maintained the malevolent appearance merely as an aesthetic choice, appealing to her in both a physical and emotional sense. It was a sign of her progress thus far and a reminder that she would soon possess that which she had sought for so long.

To feel the sun…

She had been too revealing of her plans for the prisoner, she knew this but could not help but taunt her. With all the sincerity she possessed, she had tried to act as an accommodating host but still Faelara scorned her attempts at conversation. Her abode was a painfully tranquil place, vacant of sound beyond the menacing shriek of her pet and Stia’s bothersome humming. How she hated that humming… Reverberating against the iron plate that hid the creature’s gruesome face, the hollow sound echoed through her chambers instilling a sense of despair that even Hycis found intolerable. She asked only for a simple exchange of words and could not understand why there need be a sense of animosity between Faelara and herself during their time together. Perhaps not friendship, circumstances being what they were, but certainly some sense of universal civility was in order. She recalled what few words she could glean from the girl with distaste; such a simple inquiry and yet still her guest would not oblige her.

“Well if you do not wish to speak of your past, perhaps you would enjoy a discussion of future events. Do you have any plans for your life after our time together has come to an end?”

“R-Raising my girls... with m-my husband.” Faelara’s stammering retained connotations of pride and determination though fear and pain swept through her trembling body. The distorted smirk sported by Hycis quickly became an irritated scowl. Her glowing eyes flared in anger at the girl’s utter disregard for her question. Why could she not simply accommodate, it would have been so much easier.

"Do try to be realistic Faelara. I do not understand why you would scorn my attempts at pleasant conversation with such sarcasm." With that she had decided to begin the ritual earlier than originally intended. The girl had no trouble articulating as her bindings were tightened, drawing her limbs out in a secure manner. She spoke many words as Stia prepared the reagents and took the blood necessary for the runic inscriptions. Whimpering unfounded claims of Hycis’s inevitable failure and lies of a place where the undead walk in the stead of their former selves.

Does she think me to be so naïve?

Hycis returned her thoughts to the present and the icy solitude that permeated her abode. Her prisoner lay bound upon her dais in fitful slumber. Faelara had been heavily medicated to thwart any disturbance during the ritual and would not awaken for some time. She had sent Stia away in search of a map as to better gage the validity of Faelara’s claim. While she did not believe the girl’s blatant lies, she could not help but investigate the matter further. Resigned to her loneliness for the time being, Hycis reclined upon her sofa and closed her eyes, relishing in her diabolical deed and the results it would soon endow unto her.

[ImagenAshyun]

              Almost there...




              He searched. He flew all over the Eastern Plaguelands the best he could, knowing that the Ebon Blade stayed there. He took to the skies as an avian, his feathers falling out in exhaustion. As the once lively skies lay heavy with browns and grays, the shape of Archerus came into view. Exhausted, the druid flapped his wings the hardest he could with what little energy he had left. Then... a thought. The Knights there... they would surely not appreciate the living here. Yet with worry that Faelara could be inside, Kantado pressed forward. He manages to get to the Ebon Hold, his flight directed through the balcony and into the lobby.

              "Caw!!"

              The druid makes his presence known, an action he would regret. The Death Knights within the lobby take notice, but the blackened feathers hidden among shaded arches were not immediately visible. Kantado perches onto a lamp, panic rising in his heart as he thought back about this foolish endeavor. He caws again, making it seem like just any other bird has flown into the base.

              A night elf death knight goes about his work with a patience akin to the grave. The death knight elf peers about from his craft, sensing a change in the air, a faint but familiar memory though he could not place it. The Knight, Denadis, turns his gaze upward as the sound echoes through the halls. He manages a smile and sets the blade in hand aside. As he did, Kantado flies from the arch closer to the forging knight, perched on a machine.

              "I cannot help you, brother," the Death Knight speaks in his haunting echo. Kantado, nevertheless, caws back. Denadis tilts his head to the right inspecting Kantado, amusement plain on his worn face. "You come with a pupose? You will find no animosity amongst my kind."

              At this point, the druid could feel the gazes of the surrounding Death Knights. He hops off his perch then flaps towards Denadis, taloned feet hopping on the stony floor. A very large Tauren Knight, however, took notice of the raven. "What is this...?" he says as he slowly steps forward. Kantado immediately flapped away once again, flying to one of the hanging lamps and perching there. His eyes squint from the dizzying blue lights.

              "It is my duty to maintain the runeforge," Denadis speaks. "I am afraid I cannot permit you to partake of my skill. If your need is great then we shall meet where my kind found their freedom from the horror of darkness eternal. Await me there brother, and I will assist if it is in my power to do so."

              "Caw!!" Once more, Kantado flies up. The druid immediately races out the balcony, the air of undeath becoming unbearable for him. As he flew higher to the listless skye, he circles over the Hold, awaiting for the other Kal'dorei to meet him below. By the time the elf's undead feet touch the ground, the bird flew right after. Their trek continues, feathers lining the dead earth as both make their way to Light's Hope.

---

              Their destination was met.

              Kantado makes his way to Light's Hope, flying over the people who gather. He caws at Denadis in hopes to get his attention before diving before him. His feathers fall as a druid shifts onto the ground, a small kaldorei kneeling before the knight.

              Denadis arrives on foot, making his way through the incampment without a sound. He is not suprised to find the crow before him, nor by its sudden transformation. "You are not in need of runeforging I assume?"

              "The Moon guides me and has granted me the luck and blessings to seek you, Brother. I thank you for coming out... but not. Not runeforging." Kantado brushes himself off. "I'm seeking another Death Knight... one that has kidnapped someone."

              "That is well, as I will not defy my covenant," Denadin continued. "You seek one of the Ebon Blade? Tread cautiously brother, for though I was once as yourself, I stand by my order."

              The druid bows his head. "I won't ask you to deny the order, Brother. I have no animosity for you, and I am grateful for your help against the Lich King. This one, however, may be a rogue Ebon Blade to have kidnapped an innocent woman... a pregnant one, might I add."

              Denadis grimaces slightly but elsewise seems unaffected by the news. "There are few amongst my kind with whom I have not crossed paths. It is the nature of my duty to assist those who would bear the runesword. Can you describe your quarry?"

              Kantado tries to recall from memory. "Female... a blood elf. Silvery hair, I think. I never quite got her name.She was last seen in Ratchet, for a Hallow'd End festival earlier this week."

              Denadis hisses softly. His grimace is replaced by an outright scowl. "I am aware of the one you seek. There are those amongst my kind who have not so easily resigned to the fate befallen them. She is called Hycis, and your friend... she is in grave danger."

              Kantado became alarmed."What?! How do you know this?? What has become of Ms. Faelara?!"
"I cannot truely say. Hycis is no more of the Ebon Blade than you yourself. By all accounts she is quite mad and should be approached with the utmost caution. I fear what nefarious deed has likely fallen upon your friend."

              Kantado staggers forward. "Please! You must tell me where I can find this Hycis!"

              Denadis stares ahead for a moment, his expression blank. "If you are wise you will return to that which you came brother. It would please the order to see this abomination swept from existence but I would not advise the undertaking. It has been said that she abides amongst the remenants of the scourge, south of the cursed city to the west. Though her pychosis has permeated her soul, she was a capable combatant and has likely dominated a number of servants to beckon her call."

              "Southwest..." The druid turns his head southwest. "That's...?"

              "Amongst the outskirts of cursed Stratholme you shall find that which you seek... if by chance a dark fate has not already befallen her. I advise you to turn from this foolish attempt though I would expect you not to heed. I remember friendship; I. remember. honor."

              Kantado nods as he keeps staring forward. "I... I cannot expect a rescue, Not at this point, at least. Just... need to know where she is."

              "I will speak to my brothers. There maybe few who would the tragedy that is Hycis ended. Gather those you can and rally them here on the morrow. I can offer you no more."

              "Yes. I'll try." The druid turns to the Knight, a smile on his face. "Thank you, Brother. What is your name?"

              "I am called Denadis. In days now gone I strode the earth in a manner like that of your own. I soared through the waking dream and swam amongst the beasts of the sea. I offer one final warning, beware the nightmare. It is a worse fate than death."

              Kantado shakes. "Y-yes... as I am told. My name is Kantado Starseer, follower of the totemic creed of the Wild."

              Denadis glenches his jaw, unwilling to speak further on the matter at this time. "Then soar, Kantado, and may the Godess carry you to those strong of will. The task before you is not one for the weak of spirit. We shall speak again brother."

              "I thank you kindly for our meeting. May Elune guide your path beyond undeath, Brother Denadis." Kantado then turns away, a step made before a jump. Once more, to the form of a raven, flying off.

              Denadis offers only a sullen glance. "As you say."





              "I must find help, even if I can't myself."

[Nikodemos]

Northwind. Could such a place exist?

Twilight had fallen upon the Marris Stead, a small yet particularly well fortified Forsaken encampment on the fringes of the Eastern Plaguelands. Stia had arrived earlier in the afternoon and had spent the last few hours perusing the apothecaries’ small library in search of some reference to her quarry. No questions were asked as she could provide no answer; the stationed undead left her alone to her silent pursuit.

If only they knew…

A sense of shame pervaded her thoughts as she skulked amongst her people. The Forsaken had verified their indissoluble ascendancy and she… she was a disgrace to those who had shattered the vile shackles of their enslavement. Though no utterance of condemnation was proposed, not a single finger held aloft in accusation, she knew. That was more than enough to plunge her soul into a state of self degradation.

Once I stood amongst them. Once I shared in their solemn dignity. Once…

She had discovered a map of Alterac amongst the stacks though there was no indication of a settlement where the prisoner claimed to have crashed. Within the encampment records existed a single reference to the place, a medical file describing the report of a Deathspeaker who echoed the claims of her source. Unfortunately he had be deemed unfit for further service and sequentially condemned to the true death at the unquestioning hands of his superiors. Still it offered her some shred of hope.

To be free of the mistress…

She gathered the map in her possession, its inconclusive evidence more than enough to divert Hycis from further inquiry. As the sun crossed below the horizon she set forth upon the long journey to her mistress’s lair; her prison from which she could not escape though the gate stood wide before her. Yet for the first time that she could recall, Stia felt hope.

[Erynn]

Another day in this place...

The medicine she was injected with kept her under for a long while, even longer than it did the two days before. Though...today was different. She awoke to intense pain in the hand that had been deeply cut open, the woman screaming in pain. The pain was almost unbearable for her, the wound from earlier still quite fresh and now being burnt as well. Hycis thought Faelara's words about Northwind were lies, as she looked on a map for the town herself. The woman in pain knew she wouldn't find it by looking on the map, since the town wasn't marked. Faelara even offered to show her the area around where the zeppelin last was, but she wasn't hearing it. Instead, she was punished for false accusations. Before the insane woman walked off, she ordered Stia not to inject her anymore, the woman in pain now having to tough out the pain for the rest of the time she was there.

I can't...survive here much longer...

Time dragged on for her, and she could only push herself to endure the pain she had, the hunger that she felt. She'd turned away most of the food thus far, not wanting to take any chances with food she didn't trust. This, however, left her weaker everyday, and by the fourth day, she was exhausted. She sluggishly gazed around the room, very slightly tugging at the chains before simply lying in her place, trying her best to fall asleep. The gargoyle nearby proved to make that goal difficult, it's screeches filling her with fear as she tried. She wanted to scream, but at the same time she didn't want to draw on the attention of the undead around her.

Somebody...Anybody...Please take me out of this hell...

[Hawk]

"... What do you think?"

What I think is irrelevant, mortal.

Mokaku glanced sideways at the towering elemental beside him, an imposing being of relentless flames. Its very gaze was an empowering sight to the Shaman, its very presence bringing a sense of finality and raw strength. He had consulted with each element the night before setting off, and it was deemed that Fire would be the one to help with this endeavour. He gladly accepted its assistance, nowadays having a much closer bond than the others. With Faelara's absence, Mokaku also had company in the forth of the canine companion that had come to be known as Bah'to. Mokaku turned his eye towards the beast.

Bah'to's expectant gaze didn't last all that long, his nose inclined to the ground and sniffing at the soil for any trace of his former master. He didn't seem to mind being in the vicinity of an otherwordly being, having been in countless battles where elementals were the least strange.

"I suppose you've only one t'ing on your mind." Mokaku uttered to the beast before looking to the road ahead.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" It peered at Mokaku, silently judging him.

"Oh, of course." Mokaku replied, turning about on the spot and eyeing what was previously a disturbance.

Behind him was a charred Abomination that was still oozing ichor, its guts grotesquely strewn about. But soon it would become nothing more than a pile of ash once Mokaku's palm was raised over the body. It didn't take much effort before the mass of rotting flesh and stitches was fully engulfed in flames, producing a black hand that was reaching up to the heavens. The Troll grimaced at the foul odour that hit his nostrils, a mixture of rot, burning flesh and toxic smoke.

"As much as I enjoy your company, I'm afraid the Paladins of Lights Hope would be wary of you. I trust you will come should I call for your aid?"

"You should trust that I will consider it and little else." It retorted with a glare before fading away from sight.

Mokaku knew that the answer was a yes, Fire was simply an Element that didn't often enjoy the company of mortals. Mokaku appeared to be one of the many exceptions, but even having earned its favour, it still gave him a hard time. But he was still grateful for the aid it had lent in many times, and he couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy spreading the flames upon the ones he despised. Vengeance and hatred was still inside him, which Fire frequently reminded him.

His daydreaming was interrupted when Bah'to nudged his leg, indicating that he was growing impatient and willing to go.

"Don't worry, Bah'to, I haven't forgotten." He gave ruffled the fur on Bah'to's head before continuing along the road.

Lights Hope Chapel was visible in the distance. But little did he realise that he wasn't the only one who had set off on a similar journey...

(Just a little something. Erynn kept poking me to write something. HAPPY NAO?)