Celessiel placed the
last sphere into the hole in the ground with great care, ensuring that
it didn't strike any of the others that were already there. With a sigh,
she stood upright and began to cover the cache over with plants and
leaves, making it look like a natural part of Ashenvale forest. The
weapons cache would now be undetectable, and for good reason. The hole
now contained weaons of the most dangerous sort.
Plague bombs.
Celessiel grimmaced. They weren't actually the type of plague bombs used by the Forsaken, but they still could cause great harm if used improperly. She hated the very idea of such weapons existing. Although Celessiel herself was cursed to bring disease and death to her foes through plague, using powers and intentionally using weapons made to mimic them were two different things entirely. This was exactly why Tylirel had selected Celessiel to perform this task the death knight knew; she was the only one who could be trusted not to handle such weapons carelessly, and who would be immune to their effects if an accident happened.
Celessiel sighed and surveyed her work. The weapons cache was now hidden, and ready to be used in the future. From what the death knight understood, Tylirel planned to use the weapons on Sentinel forces to weaken them, allowing Sin'dorei Houses to work together to easily defeat the injured Kaldorei. Provided that no civilians would be touched by the vile things, Celessiel could get behind the plan.
She would make sure that the weapons were not used improperly, and destroy them herself if need be.
Thinking of the plague bombs made Celessiel think back to the young rogue that had supplied them. The mute Sin'dorei had been so cold and professional it seemed. Did he even care why she purchased the weapons in the first place? Would he actually join them?
Celessiel sat on a log and thought about what had happened. Their so called secret meeting had been interrupted by half a dozen intruders, although it seemed that things had gone as well as could be expected. At least Celessiel had not been run out of Silvermoon or spit on this time. But still, the actions of her contact baffled her. He seemed so hot-headed, and yet Tylirel insisted that this Sydeirs was reliable as far as supplying materials at least. The elf had nearly gotten himself beaten unconscious when facing off agaisnt the power of a Blood Knight however. It seemed hardly less than responsible to the death knight's eyes.
Celessiel frowned as she recalled the fight. Everything she had tried had failed, and the two had gone at it like mad dogs. Perhaps her goal of aiding her people had to include healing such frayed nerves as well, if it was possible. It didn't seem like the young rogue wanted anything to do with her though, even after he had been soundly beaten and she was simply trying to help him to his feet.
She shrugged and took out one of her runeblades, running a whetstone across its surface. The scraping of stone on metal was rythmic, and soothed her as she worked. In a few hours she'd have to return to Orgrimmar, to begin her journey to the frozen North. She'd have to face those who had enslaved her for so long, and clear out the remaining scourge and Cult of the Damned. Perhaps that work, combined with what she was doing with the Sigil, would finally redeem her in the eyes of her people.
After a time, she rose, summoning her undead gryphon. She mounted it, and pointed it towards Orgrimmar, sending the creature soaring into the air. A last stray thought crossed her mind as she sped off, a lingering doubt about her ability to interact with others since her rebirth.
Despite being mute, Sydeirs had written many things in his journal and communicated clearly that way. Yet, in the time they had been speaking, he had never once asked Celessiel her name, or anything else about her.
She still had much work to do if she was going to fit in looking the way she did it seemed.
Plague bombs.
Celessiel grimmaced. They weren't actually the type of plague bombs used by the Forsaken, but they still could cause great harm if used improperly. She hated the very idea of such weapons existing. Although Celessiel herself was cursed to bring disease and death to her foes through plague, using powers and intentionally using weapons made to mimic them were two different things entirely. This was exactly why Tylirel had selected Celessiel to perform this task the death knight knew; she was the only one who could be trusted not to handle such weapons carelessly, and who would be immune to their effects if an accident happened.
Celessiel sighed and surveyed her work. The weapons cache was now hidden, and ready to be used in the future. From what the death knight understood, Tylirel planned to use the weapons on Sentinel forces to weaken them, allowing Sin'dorei Houses to work together to easily defeat the injured Kaldorei. Provided that no civilians would be touched by the vile things, Celessiel could get behind the plan.
She would make sure that the weapons were not used improperly, and destroy them herself if need be.
Thinking of the plague bombs made Celessiel think back to the young rogue that had supplied them. The mute Sin'dorei had been so cold and professional it seemed. Did he even care why she purchased the weapons in the first place? Would he actually join them?
Celessiel sat on a log and thought about what had happened. Their so called secret meeting had been interrupted by half a dozen intruders, although it seemed that things had gone as well as could be expected. At least Celessiel had not been run out of Silvermoon or spit on this time. But still, the actions of her contact baffled her. He seemed so hot-headed, and yet Tylirel insisted that this Sydeirs was reliable as far as supplying materials at least. The elf had nearly gotten himself beaten unconscious when facing off agaisnt the power of a Blood Knight however. It seemed hardly less than responsible to the death knight's eyes.
Celessiel frowned as she recalled the fight. Everything she had tried had failed, and the two had gone at it like mad dogs. Perhaps her goal of aiding her people had to include healing such frayed nerves as well, if it was possible. It didn't seem like the young rogue wanted anything to do with her though, even after he had been soundly beaten and she was simply trying to help him to his feet.
She shrugged and took out one of her runeblades, running a whetstone across its surface. The scraping of stone on metal was rythmic, and soothed her as she worked. In a few hours she'd have to return to Orgrimmar, to begin her journey to the frozen North. She'd have to face those who had enslaved her for so long, and clear out the remaining scourge and Cult of the Damned. Perhaps that work, combined with what she was doing with the Sigil, would finally redeem her in the eyes of her people.
After a time, she rose, summoning her undead gryphon. She mounted it, and pointed it towards Orgrimmar, sending the creature soaring into the air. A last stray thought crossed her mind as she sped off, a lingering doubt about her ability to interact with others since her rebirth.
Despite being mute, Sydeirs had written many things in his journal and communicated clearly that way. Yet, in the time they had been speaking, he had never once asked Celessiel her name, or anything else about her.
She still had much work to do if she was going to fit in looking the way she did it seemed.
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