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Felfire
#1
Spoiler:
This Storyline is intended to contain posts centered around the public goings-on of the Felfire Club. Some content may be graphic!

And, as with all things of an evil persuasion, I do ask that people not use the information here for meta-gaming. This is only an archive of the vile things done between heroes and villains; not an encyclopedia of information to use OOCly.

Enjoy!
[Image: 34is6sp.jpg]
Marianna Bisen
Gatsbi'nore Manor


Marianna lifted the cask over the back of the chair and turned it over, pouring icy-cold water over the unconscious orc’s head. The man jerked awake, spluttering out a string of obscenities as he blinked the water out of his eyes.

When the man spat the last of the water out of his mouth he looked about the room. The orc was lashed to a high-back wooden chair by a length of rope and icy chains about his middle and legs. By the dim light he could see racks and iron maidens. A torturer’s chamber. Fancy, by the look of the stone work and marbled floor. But still a torturer’s chamber.

In front of him stood a Blood Elf, a death knight by the cool blue of her eyes and the shade of her skin. She tilted her head to the side as she watched the orc. Behind her was a Forsaken, a priest by the look of her robes and staff.

"Swearing, Corlmitz," the voice behind him chided. "Please, watch your swearing. You are in the company of ladies."

A woman stepped out around the chair, dusting her hands off on her red and black dress. She was a noble by her bearing. She smiled at the man, ruffling his wet mop of hair playfully.

The orc named Corlmitz twitched his nose, still glancing about the room. "Ah. Roight. 'F course. My mistake.” He looks up to Vivalyn, making a note of the blood elf's features. "....so this 's what this looks like from th' otha' side. Been a long while since I's been th' one all bound up an' 'bout ta get fucked up."

The elf blinks at the orc. The woman, Marianna, laughed. "I told you, darling," she said to the elf, kneeling down beside the man and wrapping her arm around his broad shoulder. "He's a jokester."

One 'f tha best, if'n I's says so meself.

The elf, Vivalyn, stared at Corlmitz unimpressed. Her hand settled on the hilt of her blade and she waited, quietly, for him to make his movement.

Marianna laughed again, a little longer and louder than the first time. "I still remember that joke you told me, oh, what was it, three months ago?" she said, patting the man on the chest. She turned back to the elf. “This kidder, this little prankster…Says that he is going to run off. That he doesn’t like working for me any longer. That he would much rather join up with some ponces soaring the sky and then...Oh, this is the punchline...He is going to marry someone.

The woman stifled a laugh. The sound broke across her lips. “So that he can…Ahha…Live happily ever after with her."

Corlmitz flinches at the pat, rolling his neck. He took in a deep, heavy breath, eyes scanning all the 'fun' torture toys dotting the room. "Sounds 'bout roight, yeh," he quips to Marianna, his focus split.

Marianna shakes her head, still chuckling. "Really...Really great," she mumbled, giving the man's head a little pat as she stood. She moved away from the chair and over to the elf, touching her lightly on the shoulder. "But see...I have a great sense of humor. My friend here? Death has ruined that part of her."

Vivalyn stares without blinking, looking directly at Corlmitz.

Corlmitz looks the Death Knight up and down. "She one 'f them Knights, I take it? Lemme guess--she's a cold, emotionless, totally stoic killa'. Ooooooooh.... "

The noble laughs at that. "She is! " she said, looking between the orc and the elf. "She really is...Which is good for you, pumpkin. Because she doesn't have any reason to blow her fuse and pummel you to death. "

Corlmitz sucks in another heavy breath. The orc's shoulders shook, his body language trying to surpress a natural sort of terror. “Hooray... ” he mumbles.

Marianna leans in. Drawn in so close, the man can see the woman's eyes. The whites are run through with thick, red veins. Her pupils are dilated and the flesh around them red and raw. "Me, on the other hand..." she whispers. "I had to take a bit of pick-me-up to get you here. And so I may, just may, be a little bit on edge. So you'll have to excuse any of my outbursts...But, if you're polite, well...I won't have any.” She patted him lightly on the cheek. “So try and be polite, dear."

Corlmitz 's nostrils flare. "Aw, y'know me, Lady B. Politest son'nu'va b***h this side 'o Ratchet." He smiles--lips forced, and quivering a bit.

I do believe you were warned about your mouth,” the Death Knight husks. It is the first time she has spoken since the orc has been roused.

Marianna leaned back and moved to her feet. “You are right, dear!” she said, turning on the elf. “We did warn him about his mouth..."

Vivalyn shifted in place, her hand sliding down to the hilt of her blade. The runes on her scabbard began to glow red, the sickly light slipping through the small opening by the hilt guard. With a flick the strings of energy rolled out and crashed against the orc’s chest. In an instant his blood began to seethe and simmer, the heat lancing through his entire body.

....My apologies,” the elf whispers.

The heat swells up within the orc's chest and he twitches, starting to shake violently. Soon enough, the slight boil passed and the orc slumped back in his seat, sucking in heavy breathes through clenched teeth. Trying to grunt through the pain.

Marianna stepped back to watch, her smile returning and expanding. "Now, swearing... " she said, scratching her chin. "We won't be swearing anymore, will be, Corlmitz?"

Naw, ” the orc manages. “We won' be doin' no more swearin'. Ain't no fuckin' way we--awww, shit c**t, motha asses!

By the time the light died down a second time Corlmitz was sagged in his seat, frost collecting on his beard and across her cheeks. His teeth were chattering as the frost fever roiled through his still seething blood.

Marianna is doubled over laughing at the sight. She only seems to rouse and catch her breath when the elf finally finishes her work and pulls back. "Oh...Oh... " she gasps, wiping a mock tear from her eye. "Oh...Corlmitz, I did miss your dry sense of humor..."

Corlmitz is shivering at this point. Shaking, wide-eyed. Very cold, with chattering teeth. Unable to make one of his not-so-witty quips. He can do nothing but stare as the noble woman moved down and knelt before him.

"Shh..." she whispers, cupping his cheeks in both hands. "I need you to focus, dear. We brought you here to talk, not to die."

Corlmitz 's shakey head turns to look at Marianna. He tries to speak, but all that comes out are frost-stricken, chattering teeth.

Marianna began to slowly stroke up and down the man's face. Her nails drag along the skin, leaving little welts on the cold flesh. "Mmm...Now, Corlmitz...” she whispered. “Do you remember what we did together? The people we killed? All of the bad, horrible, nasty stuff we did?

Corlmitz nodded slowly, his mouth forming a half grin. "J-j-j-j-jussstt....an..no...notha' d-day 't th-th-th'a....o-offi-cee....." The orc was still shivering, uncontrollably.

Marianna smiles. It would be almost tender. "That's the problem," she said. She tapped the side of the man's skull. "That fucking memory of yours...That's the problem."

Al-a-al-way...waysh.....i-i-isss....

Marianna eases back onto her haunches. "Yes it is," she said, tipping her hat back. She held up two fingers. “So, I will give you two options...You let me and my Shadow Priest over here dig around in your head and get rid of all that incriminating evidence..." She nodded towards the Forsaken, who was watching the torture with only partial interest. "Or I let you go and, instead, bring your fiancée over here to take your place in the hot – or, in this case, cold – seat.

Corlmitz heaves, closing his eyes once. “Huhuh--hhh-huh....yeah....tha' don' g-g-give me much 'f a ch-choice 'n th' m-matterrr,” he manages. “Kn-knowin' -you-, ye....ye'd p-p-prolly wi....wipe me whole mind clean....m-make me ferg...ferget me entire life....w...wouldn' be s-such'a bad thing....if'n I's hadn't met Vish...."

The two women settled in and let the man speak.

W-well....th' fel 're yeh waitin' fer? G-...go 'n an' wipe me mind....c-clear all th' Beaufort Bay shi--err, shtuff....outta me 'ead....

The noble laughed. "That's my boy, " she said, giving the man a pat on the head. "But first..."

Marianna turned to Vivalyn. "Dear, would you bring over a barrel? " she asked. "And put it..." She taps her foot on a spot a few inches from the man's left foot. "Right here."

The elf finds a barrel and brings it over. She places on its side by the prisoner’s foot.

"Do you know why people torture other people?" she said, lifting his leg up out of its bindings and putting it on the barrel top. She began to busy herself with tying it down.

Corlmitz grunts and heaves, watching as his leg gets lifted up and placed on the barrel. "S-su...sure do....used t' do it me'self, if'n ya remember.....f-first job I's...I's had was a debt-collecta....." Once again, the orc heaves. Head still shivering.

Out of the darkness of the room a man, another human steps out. His face is covered in a mask. He stands a little distance back and watches.

Marianna finishes binding the man’s leg to the casket and stands up. The orc's leg is now propped up between barrel and chair. "Oh, that's not torture," she said, removing a set of needles from her hip. She selected one and began to fill it with a clear chemical. She stuck it in the man’s thigh. "Or it is if you are looking for where the man hid his money."

She fished around for a vein before depressing the plunger. "This? What I'm doing is leaving a warning," she said. "And I don't need you to feel me leave a warning."

Corlmitz 's leg shakes as the needle jams into his leg. “T....that'd certainly was th' poi-point 'f that job...gittin'....gittin' people 't reveal coin the...they's didn't wanna. Ha...handy skills t' hav—oi!” Almost immediately the man’s leg began to go numb, the sensation leaving it until the limb felt like a dead weight.

Marianna waited a few moments until the man's leg was completely numb before drawing the needle free. "Mmm...You have nothing I need to know," she said, stepping back. She glanced back at the newcomer before moving to a far wall. "All I need is for you to give a message to others."

G....got ya'self a fan cl-club....do yeh, Lady B?

Vivalyn looks to Corlmitz, then to the table to her left indifferently. The man, Hadley, remains fixed to his spot.

Marianna returned a few moments later, swinging a club. "I have associates," she corrected. "Kindly, kindly associates." The woman holds the club out to Hadley. "Would you care to do the honors?"

The masked man took the club, nodding twice. "Knee or shin?" was all he asked.

Corlmitz pants, staring down at his numbed leg. The orc wriggled once in his bindings, unable to loosen them in the slightest.

"Knee, dear,” she says, easing back.

Hadley palms the club, "It's a shame 'ts numb," he mumbles. He raises the club and brings it down harshly on Corlmitz's knee. There was a fleshy crack and then silence. The orc, numb from the calf down, could only watch his leg shatter with horror in his eyes.

Marianna stepped back over to observe the injury. "Cracking good hit, dear!" she said, clasping Hadly on the back.

The elf turns back and watches the two work. "...Nice hit actually," she mumbles. She looks to Hadley, giving him a nod of approval. "He will definitely remember that swing."

Hmm...” Hadley whispers, palming the bloody club. He smiles. ““'m almost not satisfied. Feel I oughta hit 'im again 'r maybe try th' other one.

"Mmm...If you wish, dear,” Marianna whispered. “But just the shin. I want him to walk out of here."

Corlmitz returns the man’s grin with his own, lips quivering a bit. "Yeh were roight...werks betta...nggh....when...th' leg...ain't numb." The orc lets out a heavy gasp, as beads of sweat roll down his forehead.

Hadley raises the club again, bringing it down on the leg once more for good measure, beneath the kneecap. There is another wet crunch, a little heavier and louder than the first.

Marianna moves down, clasping the orc's wounded leg. "See? We are hardly barbaric," she whispered, laying her hand on the fractured and bloody pulp. A dark green light pushes between her fingertips, the sickly energy passing into the flesh. For a moment there is the smell of putrifying flesh. "But we will leave a little gift for the first person who tries to heal this fine mess of leg..."

Corlmitz 's breathing is too heavy and panting to respond to Marianna. The orc just sits there, staring at his devastated leg with a wide-eyed stare. He gags at the sight, smell, and feeling of fel corruption. Coughing in disgust from the spell, the orc tries to lean his head as far away from it as he could.

The warlock pulls her hand away. The man's leg is smoking slightly, the flesh bubbled and blackened. Slowly the corruption draws into his wound and, after a moment, the smell and blackness are gone. “I do hope your fiancée tries to cure you," she said, dusting the blood off on her dress. "Whoever tries to set the wound with magic will release the curse."

"It has one use, but that one use will fill the healer with all the pain that you just suffered now."

Corlmitz pants, gulping back a breath of sick air. The orc's head hangs low, swaying a bit. Snorting, he looks up to Marianna. "N-nice....of ya...to tell m-me...."

Marianna looks back, beckoning over the Shadow Priestess. The Forsaken steps up and moves behind the orc. "Don't worry," she said. "Your memory...Just isn't what it used to be."

The orc huffs, blinking groggily as the shadow priestess moves behind him. He coughs again, reeling from the pain and fel-infection. "Heh....well....'n....g-guess....guess this....'s th'....moment...ngh. Ye've been....waitin'....fer. If....if I's m-might make a...humble suggestion, though. Jus' ta...jus' ta be helpful-like.

Black energy begins to collect between the Forsaken’s bony fingertips. The warlock watches the work with interest, smiling. "Mmm...Talk away, dear,” she said graciously. “I’ve had my turn.

Corlmitz lifted his head, staring at Marianna. He grinned. "N...now....know...knowin' yeh, ye've pro...prolly 'ad a looootttaaa gits cur...curse ya name. Swear vengeance 'n ya...say things l-like 'you'll never get away with this, you fiend!' etc etc....I's ain't....ain't gonna bore yeh wit' that typical hero shite,” he mumbled. “I'...I'm thinkin' yeh know how 't handle all'a that.

But, Marianna...I's tellin' ya roight now--yer priestess here betta' not muck up. 'Cause, as good 's yeh are handlin' do-gooders, nothin' 'as prepared yeh fer handlin' my kind. We's cut from th' same cloth, remembah? Yeh let me walk away from this wit' even tha' slightest bit 'o memory...an' ye'll 'ave th' type of roight-down, dirty bastard enemy yeh ain't eva' had before. An' believe me. When 't comes....t' this torture shite? I's -much- betta 'n these two. Lot more....creative like....heh....heh. "

Marianna watches Corlmitz silently. "Well, Corlmitz... " she said after a pause. She regained her smile. "...I'd like to see that. "

"Vandis...? ” she said, nodding to the Forsaken. “Let him remember what I did to him today. Scrub everything else I need out of his skull. "

The Shadow Priestess hesitates for a moment before nodding.

Corlmitz takes in a deep, long breath. The chance of losing all of the memories of his life -- save for this moment -- terrified him. And he snapped his gaze to Marianna, eyes narrowing. "Shoulda figured ye'd go this route. Fine, 'n. Fuckin' fine! "

The warlock smiled. "Enjoy, dear, " she whispered. "I hope to see you real soon."

A shock of black energy shoots between the Forsaken's fingertips, scrubbing through the man's brain. There is a stab of emptyiness as the tendrils scoop out his thoughts. They scrub out his memories. Of the Bay. Of demons. Of every wickedness and cruelty he had done beside the dark diabolist. Unconsciousness is not far after. The orc’s pupils dilated for a moment before the man falls forward and goes unconscious.

When the work was done Marianna turned to her two friends. She wiped her hands. "...There, " she said. "Enjoy the show? "

Vivalyn nods and turns, moving to walk out of the gate. The human, however, dawdles. “It was interesting, but I might ask...” said Hadly. “Why'd you leave him with memory of you?"

Marianna mops her brow with the back of her hand. "Because I am bored, Hadly, " she said, eyeing the mangled orc. "Because I am bored and people like him are the only entertainment I have."
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