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Posts : 54
Join date : 2010-03-09
Age : 25
Location : Surrey, England

PostSubject: Dismissal   Sat Nov 27, 2010 5:43 pm

((Thought this was the best place to put this, its my version of events, Tried to remember what was said so may be a bit shakey. And Orthos... I am always very creative in my revenge, so watch out :-) ))

Standing tall, Dark Ranger Lemayas Suncrier strode up the Rostrum where her queen stood waiting for her, as at last, she was granted audience with the Dark Lady. The battle fresh in her mind, Lemayas’ pale skin showed more life in them than ever, pride swelling in her cold heart, warmth filling her body. No longer could she feel the pain in her heart, the knife sliding in, her stutter all but gone, and a genuine smile on her lips for the first time. She was wanted, accepted, with both the Thorns and the Dark Rangers and for the first time, her Monthly Report was full of good news. A Thorn, Deadex, stood near to the Banshee queen as Lemayas stepped up to her liege and bent her knee before the Tall monarch, her cloak flowing behind her, the small black kitten at her toes, Bone bow slung over her back.
“My Lady, I bring good news, of the battle.” Lemayas reported, not a trace of a stutter in her voice, as she handed the file to the Queen. “The Alliance was beaten back, and Southshore was taken. We suffered Minimal casualties, compared to the Alliance losses. The Following raids on Ironforge and Stormwind also showed admirable results, the Forsaken are now a force to be feared across Azeroth. Personal Commendations to Mistress Anethrax, she is a great leader, tactician and role Model, a true servant of the Forsaken.”
Accepting the report, Lady Sylvanas looked at the Forsaken rogue that stood a few metres away, and gave a little subtle nod. The Rouge saluted, before disappearing apparently into thin air.
“Thank you Dark Ranger. Your work with the Thorns has been admirable, and as such, it prides me to offer you the position of-“
With a bang, the Dark lady was cut off mid speech. Turning, Lemayas saw a unit of Alliance soldiers smash through the Throne room doors, fighting off the defending royal deathguards. Soldiers from all over the room ran to intercept them, however a dwarf broke off from the crowd, raising his axe and charging at the Queen. A few seconds later he laid still, an arrow between his eyes, Lemayas holding her bow high, the string still quivering. As the assassination attempt was quelled, Lemayas stood to attention next to her Queen, an arrow already in the bow, ready for anything.
“Dark Rangers, Protect the queen at all costs. Deathguards, secure the Throne room.”
Sharlindra said the words with as much Authority as possible, as Lemayas stood strong next to the Queens Rostrum. Deadex had disappeared, and as Lemayas looked around, she heard the Mistress’ voice clear through the Comms.
“Thorns, report to my position.”
A frown crossed Lemayas’ face for a brief second, before vanishing as she replied proudly;
“My place is here with the Queen Mistress. I will catch up with you later.”
Smiling, her eyes scanning the room for movement, as a reply came through the Comms, the Mistress again.
“Lemayas, report to me at once.”
As the message registered, Lemayas’ heart missed a beat. A frown crossed her face again, what had she done wrong? As she opened her mouth to reply, Deathmaster Orthos’ voice came through, commanding, cruel.
“Lemayas, get here now.”
Looking around at Sylvanas, Lemayas took a deep, albeit shaky breath and replied to the Command with as much authority as she could muster, her voice shaking slightly.
“I am a Dark Ranger; my place is by my Queen. She is in danger.”
Silence. As Lemayas stood there, stubborn to her place, she saw Deathmaster Orthos ascending the stairs.
“Sister, get to the Mistress now, and that’s an order.”
Lemayas looked at her feet, a hundred thoughts running through her head. She was in trouble now, she knew it, but she just could not leave her Queen, especially during a time of threat, she would be humiliated, thrown out the Dark Rangers… even executed, and that couldn’t happen, not today.
Lemayas said the word with as much strength as she could, but her voice was already failing. Orthos was her Deathmaster, but he wasn’t her Deathmaster. Whatever power he had over her, Arli would always have that role… She couldn’t help feeling if it were Arli who had come she would have obeyed in a second.
“You coward!”
The comment took Lemayas off guard, it was harsh, offensive. Something was going horribly wrong, but the Mistress answered to Sylvanas, surely she would understand?
“You’re dead, you know that?”
Suddenly, the insults triggered a reaction in Lemayas. Here was an Elf, Deathmaster or not, a Living elf, insulting her right in front of her Queen. Her Dark lady. And she wasn’t having it.
“Do not speak like that in front of the Dark lady! On your knees in front of her Majesty!” Lemayas ordered, but the Deathmaster didn’t reply. Instead she heard a voice through her Comms…
“You are not a Dark Ranger any more Lemayas, you are a Thorn. Choose now.”
“I can’t make that decision Mistress… It’s…”
“Leave your tabard with me.”
No, this couldn’t be happening; the mistress was kind to her…
Arli would speak up, protect her…
She couldn’t…
Orthos turned and left, leaving Lemayas utterly defeated. Emotions flashed through her head, as in a daze she turned around to her queen, who was actually looking slightly concerned.
“My Lady I… I… I have to take a… t-take a…. l-leave of absence…” Lemayas stuttered, as the Queen nodded. Turning, Lemayas stumbled down the stairs, her clumsiness returning, the fear, the pain, the knife going in…
She walked down the corridor, or ran, she couldn’t tell. Crossing the bridge she spotted Orthos, trying to hide in the Shadows watching her. A Dark Ranger could spot him…. But she wasn’t a dark Ranger any more. Pulling a note out her pocket she was about to drop it but… instead she crumbled it and turned to walk away. Ripping the red mask off her face she let that drop, staggering up into the Trade quarter, pulling her hairband out, letting her hair drop around her shoulders. Stopping at the bank she stuttered a few words to the teller, who handed her a box. She drew the silver knife out, tucking it in her sleeve as she heard Orthos behind her. Staggering up and up, she raised her hood, one of her feet giving out, throwing her against a wall, where she steadied herself. From here she could hear the rain outside, her final wash; she could feel the silver blade cutting into her wrist, into her very spirit. Staggering onto the Lift she felt it bringing her to the surface, her legs and hands shaking. Stepping off, she stumbled again, leaning against the lift doors. For a second she stayed, before slipping out the corridor, out of the Throne room, showing none of the grace, none of the strength she had a few long minutes earlier. As she stepped off the drawbridge she felt strong arms pulling her, tumbling off into the moat, the crumpled note falling out her hand. Closing her eyes, the water engulfed her and her assailant, who dragged her into a hidden room, the green waters lapping at her legs. Without resisting, she was forced to the ground, where she looked up, Deathmaster Orthos standing over her. No idea what was going on, she simply lay there, as he raised his dagger above her heart. So whether she had killed herself or not, this was her fate.
The Knife sailed down, as she uttered a final word, the message traveling across the Comms into every Thorns ear.
As the Blade hit her in the heart, She Screamed, the powerful Banshee’s voice echoing right across the Undercity, even causing Orthos to wince in Pain as he twisted the knife. Involuntarily, she shot out her body, her spirit taking form as it slammed into and through the roof; As Orthos removed her Comms, Tabard and spyglass.
No-one wanted her; no-one was her friend. She may as well just die.
Sitting sobbing on the ledge of the tower, she felt a warm arm slip around her shoulders.
“Don’t Worry, Clea’s here.”
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