Return to the Citadel (open RP)

[Aitana]

The Headless Horseman had been defeated and a sense of normalcy had returned to Tirisfal Glades. Aitana snorted to herself. Normalcy? I suppose you could call it that, she thought to herself. She never had been particularly comfortable with any undead, not even the undead that called themselves The Forsaken. Their “life” never seemed normal to her. An uneasy sadness tugged at her as she started to activate her hearthstone to return to Shattrath.

She paused and the hearthstone lost its glow and she started to walk an old familiar path. Familiar to her, but few others. The odor from the smoke triggered a memory from just a year ago. Aitana started slightly when she realized the protective barrier that had kept out the unwelcome from intruding was still in place. She smiled ruefully. It had kept out most of the unwelcome.

Was it already a year ago? Mentally she reviewed the months that had passed. Indeed it was a year ago since the citadel of the Twilight Umbrage had burned and Lady Nyx had provided a new home for them. Some like Saugnine had perished in the fire. Others like Ebrel, Machias and Kaelista had departed before the fire and been spared. Still others like Mythrael had been present when the dragons had attacked. She had been summoned to defend the citadel, but had only arrived in time to help mount a rescue operation of those that were in danger from the fire. Tomoyo, Baelspar, Warburn, Eyesore, and others from the followers of Lady Nyx had been a great source of comfort and assistance at the time.

That artifact! She had almost forgotten about it. A slight shiver passed through her body. She was very glad she hadn’t had to give an account to Miss Nyx or Lady Sylvanas for neglecting her duty to find out where it had come from or why the dragons had attacked. Fortunately they had been busy with other concerns and had not asked her to give an account of her activities in that area. She wondered where it had disappeared to. It clearly was an item of power and evil. Were their investigations into the artifact the reason for the attack? Where was it now? There had been no attacks since. Was that because they had left it alone? Or had the dragons or whoever was looking for it recovered it? She stood in the glade lost in thought looking out at the charred hunks of wood and stone that were being reclaimed by the forest.

(( This is an open RP. If you want to participate in it, please read up on the lore of <The Twilight Umbrage> with particular attention to the destruction of the citadel (http://z11.invisionfree.com/TwilightUmbrage/index.php?s=59cc7ac78f67c7b13d3e34464754e941&showtopic=456 ). More can be found at http://z11.invisionfree.com/TwilightUmbrage/index.php?act=SF&s=&f=2 <The Twilight Umbrage> merged with <Nyx> The purpose of this is to lead up to an RP event that involves killing Onyxia and possibly Neferion. The general flow will involve rediscovering the artifact, attempting further investigations, encounters with dragons and other evils, and a mission to go kill dragons. ))

[Aitana]

Uncertainty clouded her mind about what to do next. More precisely, she wasn't sure how to go about doing what she knew she needed to do next. Talk to Gorehorn? Maybe, but he was a warrior. Sometimes he could be a bit rash. Zindia? Maybe, although she did not trust her completely considering how she had taken over the body of Gorehorn's mate. Grandmother Awakeekielo? Possibly. She was very old and wise. Eyesore would be a good one to talk to if she caught him on a day when his memory was sharp, and if she could find him. Baelspar? She laughed to herself at the idea of talking to the proud Sin'dorai about her concerns. He had other things on his mind. But ... well maybe, if she could convince him of the importance of the matter. Even though he tended to be frivolous like so many of his kind, he did have a sharp mind if he chose to focus on the task at hand. He also had servants that could be very helpful. Gohjira, Warburn or Tomoyo ... those might be the best ones to ask about the whereabouts of the artifact. By the magic of the hearthstone she reached out with her mind to see who she could find.

[Curonhifor]

Curon pulled on the reins of his Shadowstrider, Penelope, who squaked loudly in protest as the avian creature immediately halted her running, irritation in her eyes. The Sin'dorai ignored her, keeping on hand on Penelope's reins, petting her with that same hand, and bringing his right hand to just barely touch his forehead. Ever since he had been accepted into the ranks of Lady Nyx's children, he had been receiving multiple messages through his hearthstone, more often than usual, anyway, what with the Blood Knights constantly bothering him about this uprising and that uprising, he had been on the road more times in the past month than he had cared to count. Still, he could feel a presence stretching out, as if searching, and he responded with what equated as a mental nod.

Penelope, however, demonstrated her usual unease around magic as well as her impatience to get to running (since that was apparently the over-sized hawk's favored past-time), and tried pecking at the Blood Knight's hand, only to have her beak gently rapped against by Curon's knuckles. He cast an irritated glare at her, and that seemed to calm her down for the moment, before Curon tried to speak through the power of the Hearthstone, as weak as the connection was, since he was all the way in Silvermoon City.

"You seem to be searching for something, Lady Aitana. Or someone. Perhaps I could be of some assistance?"

[Warburn]

The stone glyphed table in the Nyx library felt warm this eve. A good omen the shaman thought. With a thought all the candles in the room began to burn softly.

Warburn Smoketusk, was here on an urgent matter. Archdruid Aitana Tallbear, had sent him a butterfly messenger. The missive contained a thought, a memory - Aitana's walk down memory lane in the ruins of the Twilight Citadel. She wanted to meet.

Right on time, he heard a russle in the ceiling. Aitana, descended from the open air flap of their tower, a common element in orcish architecture. Her flight form always was her favorite.

"Shalom jah, mastah 'Tana! Good to see yah!"

"Greetings Warburn, thanks for coming on such short notice. The year mark since Lady Sylvanas assigned us to serve Lady Nyx is upon us. And fate had me visit the ruins of the citadel... I can't help but sense we need to finish a job not yet done... before it's too late. Do you... sense anything?"

Warburn stared at the noble tauren, lost in thought. After a moment, his bloodshot eyes suddenly cleared and he spoke.

"Don't tell me I nevah told yooz dat deh artifact dat summoned dah black dragon flight to burn down yah's citadel is SAFE?!"

"NO!!!!" Aitana jumped up and glared at the aging troll shaman.

Warburn blinked, blushed and stuttered
"Oh well, jah know... me sorry... It's been safe all dis time. When dah black drakes were attacking yooz citadel, our lady Nyx, who must have known everything... She grabbed deh artifact and melted intah dah shadows. Dah dragons tink dey destroyed it. In fact Lady Nyx axed me tah hide it here in dis room."

Aitana, startled again "WHAT?!"

"Jah mon, it's hidden indah ground, nestled in the earth... about a mile down. I tink it be okay to bring it up fo a quick look see."

Warburn, pulled an earth totem from his pouch and placed it in a carved notch on the decorated floor. He then stepped in a pattern waving his hands, summoning an Elemental of Earth.... little rocks started dislodging them selves from the tiles underfoot. Stone slabs started rocking and shifting. dirt pushed some rocks and slabs up, more stones started dancing around and over the forming hill. Suddenly a perfectly shaped altar emerged. It was decorated with glowing runes in the highborne language - clearly Lady Nyx's magik. On top of the altar stood a silver artifact. It looked like 2 dragons sitting back to back, but not symmetrically. It seemed obvious that there was a third dragon missing, who could complete a triangular formation.

Lady Nyx's altar must have been shielding the artifact somehow, why else wouldn't Warburn be fearing another dragon attack, Aitana thought to herself.

The altar wasn't up for 10 seconds, and Aitana didn't have the chance to mutter a word, before the Earth Elemental took the altar back down, 1 mile into the ground below Orgrimmar.

"WAit!!" Shouted Aitana.

"Nah mon, we'z can't risk any mo! But I cans tell yahs what I know"

"Please do, Warburn."

"Jah, dis be belonging to Onyxia, I'z am sho of it. Tink about it. BLACK dragons attack yooz's Citadel. We'z since established dat deh two dragon pieces we'z put togethah came from dah same Highborne sage collection - remembah? We'z tink dese could be from he who in a past life, a dozen millenea ago fathered who would become our mastah - Our Lady Nyx. Why else would she appear before Eyesore and steal her treashah and protect it from destruction? And want to hide it here? In deh sanctuary we'z built fo her?"

Aitana blinked. Not sure how to assimilate all the lore she was just asked to recall. But before she could ask, her fellow Oracle continued.

"Ja know? I fogot I'z was on dis case. Somehow dah fight against our seen enemy - dah Aliance, stole my mind from pursuing our unseen enemies. Anywayz, I sent Azim-ben-Kabir, to visit Rexxar. And as far as I know Azim got the old Maghar Master Hunter to make him a black dragon illusion. If I not mistaken, Azim dah Mighty can be our spy to the Wyrmbog. Mebe he can find out fo sho what we'z need to avenge dah fallen heros of deh Twilight Umbrage.

I will axe him to find dat costume Rexxar made him."

[Eyesore]

Eyesore shifted the doublet so he could work on the scales along the wyrm’s tail. Carving the dragon into the supple leather had been an unusual challenge, as many of the dragon’s scales had been so tiny. But working ground dragon scale dust into each of those scales took a meticulous attention to detail.

Meticulous, a good word, he mused. A word thought to be beyond an orc’s capability. As were his abandoned archaeological endeavors. Abandoned, another useful word. Best his thoughts not wander there, though ever since he took the young hunter’s commission to illustrate her doublet, his thoughts had drifted among memories of artifacts, and a dragon’s revenge. Focusing on his craft usually brought clarity to his thoughts, but filling in the detail on the scales led to reflections on dragons, and his mind clouded.

He thought about clouds, and the spaces of azure clarity between them. Leatherworking helped him to avoid the clouds.
.

[Gorehorn]

The cloth wrung around and around in Gorehorns heavy plated hands as he tried to wash away the blood and filth that remained of the extensive "questioning" that had marked the brutal ending of General Drakkisaths tenured career as Lord-General of the Black Dragon Flight.


It had been a grim, efficient and cruelly determined old tauren warrior that had singularly crushed his way through the forces guarding the fortress in Upper Blackrock Spire. For the better part of a year the distractions of the Dark Lady had kept the others busy looking into everything from detering the growth of power of Prince Melchazzar, to destroying Gruul the Dragonkiller and even the demon Magtheridon had played the part of pawn to distract the faithful.

This was not the first time Gorehorn had seen the forces of a leader used to distract from truth. But unlike the leaders who used his now long dead village as bait in the final battles that installed Thrall as Warlord of the Horde, The Lady Nyx would not be allowed to hide her relationship to the destruction of the Twilight Umbrage. It had always been rumored that there may be some strange relationship between her and the Matriarch of the Black Dragon Flight: Onyxia, and now a sliver of that truth was within his grasp.

He remembered voicing his belief that the ancient relic that had been dragged back to the Citadel by the old blind shaman Rockcrush should be destroyed rather than studied. But as is often the case, the intellectuals won out and teh artifact was brought in for study. The Chancellor Aitana Tallbear, the warlocks Kromal, Masopher, & Scornweaver, the Mages Zindia, Sunseting & Corpsicle, and the priests Gohjira & Minsc all sat in strained study only toi find that there were traps and tricks ontop of more traps and yet more tricks. Only the rogue Mythrael agreed with him that it should be destroyed.

In the end the Black Dragonflight had agreed with the minority.

The blasts of alarms brought Gorehorn out of his reverie. It would seem the Darkiron minions of the former general had managed to resume a defense. All the better. It was going to be a long trip back to convince the enigmatic forces of Nyx to join in an assault on what very well may be the sister of thier benefactor. Would they be allowed to kill a relative of their own Matriarch? Were they ready to slay Onyxia?

[Eyesore]

The grizzled orc carefully worked a paste with finely ground mithril into the leather highlighting the dragon's mouth, hinting of an emerging flame. He liked the way the mineral caught the light, and didn't much care that the expense would not be recovered from the commission. The young hunter was far from affording even a basic set of mail armor, but that was no reason she could not have a doublet of unique quality. It was the least he could do, he owed her that, and more.

As he worked the mithril deeper into the leather, his thoughts drifted to his brief ally, Mythrael. Happenstance more than anything else had put the old orc into a position to rescue Mythrael as a dragonflight devasted the rogue's citadel. Healed by Aitana, Mythrael had seemed to recover from the devastation of his wounds. Eyesore gave thought to what had become of Mythrael after that, but that led to more thought of dragonkin, and that led to intense discomfort. Keeping a focus on one detail at a time had helped him to carve and detail the dragon image, but his mind wandered and kept seeing the whole...a dragon queen in all her awesome glory.

Eyesore sighed and put a cloth over the stretch of leather with Onyxia's image. His mind, in much the same way, clouded his memories of dragonkind and their treasure. He was confused, but relieved.

.

[Aitana]

(( Sorry, folks, for dropping the ball here. Work has been taking over my existence and I haven't been able to get back to this for a while.

General plot line, subject to change as the story develops:

- Remembering the past and moving on to the future.

- Finding the old trinket - done in the encounter with Warburn already. Warburn, you need to adjust your post a little because the trinket is like a plain smooth black stone.

- As I see it, the stone is the calling stone mentioned in the post at http://thenyx.org/?p=23#more-23 where Lady Nyx communicated with the dragon Onyxia. That is why Onyxia reacted to it in the first place. This needs to be discussed more in the RP.

- Ominous signs from the stone that the magic is still active and a sense of the danger it poses to where it is stored leading to the need to destroy Onyxia and the stone together. It can only be destroyed by her fire.

Those are just the main ideas. While it might be a bit contrived to line out the plot ahead of time, I think it is necessary in this case since we are looking for a particular end. Feel free to add your post, and I'll also work on another post this week. ))

[Aitana]

Aitana had a grim expression on her face and the trinket carefully stowed in her bags as she left her encounter with Warburn. After much discussion they had concluded that it was time to get to the bottom of the mystery of the trinket. They had had not luck in their attempts to break through the wards that prevented them from learning more about it. The item was clearly magic. What better source of information than Azuregos, the son of the Lord of Magic?

The thought of talking to Azuregos still made her uncomfortable. The blue dragon flight in Northrend were hostile. Still, Azuregos was known to talk to mortals. She was glad Curon and others had agreed to accompany her.

[Theotaz]

Theotaz considered the Lady Aitana request to provide escort for the party. He knew of the dragon Azuregos of the line of Malygos.
Years ago he had quested to Azshara and had sought out the great drake with questions of his own. He knew Azuregos for all of his high words and mighty power was a hoarder of magic. The mage Rhonin had warned him of his nature and that warning had allowed him to trick the blue dragon to distraction allowing him to get away. That quest had lead to his greatest tresure in that previous live, the bow Rhok'delar, Longbow of the Ancient Keepers.
The same great bow that led him to Northrend with the thought that he could face Arthus. His hubris had cost him his freedom and his life. He did not know if Azuregos would recognize him in his present form as a Death Knight but the benifit of one who had faces Azuregos before, balanced against the risk of recognition favored the bold. He would go, and lend what help that he could.
He had his own suspicions of this mysterious artifact. Something was going with them in the lady's possesion which was of terrifiying deadliness.