Common Interests

The ruins were covered with vegetation, making it difficult to identify what some of the structures might once have been in some places. The vines had choked much of the crumbling stone walls, leafy foliage sprouting all throughout the bamboo forest.

Beckyann carefully stepped over a thick vine, her plate boots jingling slightly as she planted her foot to gain better purchase. She had been in the ruins for an hour or so now, and with each passing minute an almost child-like delight grew within her. There were ancient carvings and glyphs all over the ruins! What was even better, they appeared to be older than most of the other sites she had ever visited, with the exception of a few areas in Uldum and the Storm Peaks. Truly ancient mysteries were buried within the soil beneath her feet.

Her fascination with the site drew her deeper within the encompassing walls that surrounded the ancient compound. Ahead of her, one of the walls was partially clear of vegetation due to the way the sun filtered down through the Jade Forest all around the site. It left the carvings there exposed, and although thousands of years of moisture had obliterated some, there were more than enough to record and study.

Beckyann practically ran towards the wall, excitement on her face and an almost life-like flush in her skin. It was moments like this when she most connected with the woman she once was, and the act of discovery was a driving force in her unlife. It took the doldrums out of merely endlessly existing.

With some degree of glee, the death knight paused before the wall. She took her runeblade and plunged it into the soft soil, sinking down onto her knees to view the inscriptions. The ones near the bottom of the wall had some plants growing in front of them, but had suffered the least from water damage and deterioration. She eagerly pulled plants out of the ground, removing her gauntlets so her fingers could trace over the deeply engraved words. After a few moments of study, she set her pack beside her, removing a travel journal and beginning to take notes. It had been some time since she'd found a site worthy of further study, and it was highly likely that another archaeological dig would be called for in the near future.

Beckyann was so engrossed in the carvings on the wall that she failed to pay attention to her surroundings. Kneeling on the ground, she wrote quickly in her notebook, murmuring to herself as she attempted to translate what few words she was familiar with. It was for this reason that she failed to notice the intruders approaching her from behind until two overly large hands wrapped themselves around her neck.

“I see you are already kneeling supplicant! This is good! It will save us much trouble!” a loud voice boomed out from behind her.

The pressure on her neck increased, and clearly whoever had grabbed her was trying to choke the life out of her. Idly Beckyann noted that the size and coloration of the hands around her matched those that she had seen of the Mogu. Although she'd not fought them directly, she knew enough about them to understand that the creatures would slay any that stood in their way.

She was also not impressed in the slightest.

Rolling her eyes, Beckyann pretended to struggle, her hands coming up to try and remove the huge hands encircling her neck. She kicked her feet, pretending to strain, one hand reaching over her head as if to grasp at the attacker that she could not possibly overpower. To her annoyance, the pressure increased and she heard the crackle of cartilage beginning to break. If it went on much longer she would be damaged, and the thought immediately irritated her. Tired of the game, she slumped forward, arm resting atop her own head and her other arm dangling limply.

Predictably, once all signs of 'life' had fled her, the hands encircling her throat let go to drop her to the ground. The tactic was an excellent attack, and would have left any of the races of Azeroth choked to death and laying sprawled in a heap before the wall.

Unfortunately for the Mogu, Beckyann was no longer a member of the races of Azeroth and didn't actually need to breathe.

As the hands let her go, rather than fall forward, her hand shot up into her hair. She yanked her hairpin free, whirling around and rising. She had a glimpse of a surprised, disgusting face inches from her before she plunged the hairpin into the creature's chest. Seven inches of cold saronite pushed through its body, striking its heart. The death runes on the little hairpiece flickered to life, disease setting in all around the puncture. As Beckyann fully straightened, she smirked at the Mogu, watching his flesh begin to decay. The large creature slumped sideways before falling to the ground, a last gasp of air escaping him as he died.

With the large form out of her line of sight, the death knight could see three more Mogu standing in the ruins. They looked at her with some degree of surprise. Casually she reached up and brushed some of errant blonde hair from her face, the brittle dead strands having little luster even in the light of the sun. She smiled at the Mogu, casually reaching for her runeblade and pulling it from the soil.

The creature closest to her pointed at her with the blade of a halberd, its voice thundering, “You! You are not like the others! You are already a construct! You will submit to us for study and dissection at once!”

Beckyann blinked, pausing to consider what the Mogu had said. She studied the creatures as they fell into a battle stance, noting something unusual about the weapons they held. Magical energies sparkled on the blades, and she could sense the essence of chained spirits in some of the materials they carried on their belts. As she took this in, the meaning of the Mogu's words came into focus.

They were using the spirits of the slain for some foul purpose.

She laughed as the realization struck her, the echoing sound unnatural as it bounced off of the rocks. After all she'd been through, it seemed the Cult of the Damned had not even had an original idea when they began enslaving spirits. The creatures before her used similar spells, and likely had been doing so for far longer.

Oh well.

She brought her runeblade up, saluting the large creatures mockingly. Her black lips parts, the words that slipped out full of malice, “Kneel supplicants.”

The Mogu glared at her, bringing their weapons up and roaring battle-cries. They had little effect on Beckyann however, and she merely brought her runeblade up, advancing towards them like the endless march of death that time brought to all things. Silently her runeblade came up to meet the first of the attackers' blows.

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Less than an hour later, Beckyann mounted her deathcharger, cuffing the undead animal harshly when it tried to bite her. Behind her, the runes lay silent once more, a thin layer of frost beginning to melt in the warm weather that the Jade Forest enjoyed. Silent and still forms lay crumpled amongst the ruins; a demonstration of what happened when the very weapons the Mogu wished to create were given free will.

With a laugh, Beckyann harshly spurred her deathcharger, the saddlebags beneath her bouncing as they began to move. Within lay her travel notebook and the research she'd done, as well as a few bottles filled with the twisted spirits of long dead creatures, taken from the fallen as spoils of war.

Maybe the continent was not as much a waste as Beckyann had first imagined. The thought brought a smile to her face as she raced beneath the bamboo canopy.