Strange book
Jun. 15th, 2011 01:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
museworksI found one of them yesterday, completely by accident. I had not intended on starting the hunt this soon, even if it's been a little while, but it was an opportunity I could not let slip past. Alamir Duskfire was his name. I remember him clearly from before. A Blood Knight, and one who still called himself such proudly. I don't know if most do, or if the term has fallen out of fashion with the restoration of the Sunwell, but I know some do. He did. As far as I know Jovan does. At least my brother doesn't seem to any longer, at least around me.
Who knows why he was there; I don't doubt the reasons were repugnant. His command of the Light was weaker than Jovan's; at least Jovan's, to an extent, made up for his weakness with a weapon no matter how he would deny such. It was easy enough to beat him into submission, and with my helm he did not know me. I didn't kill him yet, but I knocked him out.
One of Stranglethorn's advantages is in it being home to all manner of creatures, and all manner of sentient beings, many of whom harbor no particular affiliation. Screaming goes largely unremarked, if not unnoticed altogether. Background noise sometimes. I won't say it was unpleasant, what Alamir suffered. I know as well as any how painful armor can be when heated, especially if it hasn't been properly enchanted against such things. I won't say I didn't enjoy it when he started to beg. It only got worse when he realized I didn't want information, or even gold or flesh. For all he knew, I was simply a random sadist and he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I liked that; he probably tormented himself mentally with an assortment of what ifs that would have seen him avoid this unknown individual.
It was good practice, though, for later. I'm still working out the logistics of dealing with Jovan similarly. I may have to experiment on the others as I hunt them down before him. I wonder, when he realizes what's happening, how many bodyguards he'll hire. How well he'll sleep. What assassins he'll hire to come after me. I don't doubt he'll know who's behind it when it's underway, after all.
But I digress. I did finally let Alamir see my face, but only after I made him debase himself repeatedly. It was surprising just what he was willing to do to spare himself further pain or even preserve his own life; it was almost fascinating what he was willing to do to himself as long as it didn't further scar his pretty skin, and what he was willing to say. I'm not completely amoral, though-- after a while my skin began to crawl, and I knew I had to end it. My enjoyment may not have been perverted, but it was growing darker than I wanted to allow.
I'll treasure that look in his eyes when he saw my face, though, right before my sword sliced through his neck.
On him I found a strange book. A well-tooled leather cover of red and gold, embossed and decorated, but without a title or author. I had assumed it was a paladin's libram, but it wasn't; instead of esoteric incantations and prayers-- hah, prayers!-- I found...many blank pages. And a list of names. At first glance it seemed to be a list of targets, but many of these looked to be nicknames and pseudonyms rather than proper names, and not all were sin'dorei or even of Horde races.
Soon enough I began to see words appear, by magic. Comments, for lack of a better term, by some of those on the list. It was as though people were having conversations. I wasn't sure how the enchantment worked until I accidentally brushed over it with a couple of fingertips and found my latest thought coming forth in text. Alarm turned to curiosity, when I realized that thought had not yet made it over the 'network' of this tome. I figured it out soon enough, though. Apparently others' function slightly differently, requiring actual pen and ink; I should get some for myself, should the touch-enchantment wear out.
Besides, I'd rather have more direct control over what goes into it without having to singularly focus so much. Maybe one of my associates can tweak it slightly. We'll see. Since it was Alamir's, I wonder if others have similar, and I wonder if it can be used to find them. We'll have to see, indeed.
In the meantime, I am content for the time being. It has been a good week.
Who knows why he was there; I don't doubt the reasons were repugnant. His command of the Light was weaker than Jovan's; at least Jovan's, to an extent, made up for his weakness with a weapon no matter how he would deny such. It was easy enough to beat him into submission, and with my helm he did not know me. I didn't kill him yet, but I knocked him out.
One of Stranglethorn's advantages is in it being home to all manner of creatures, and all manner of sentient beings, many of whom harbor no particular affiliation. Screaming goes largely unremarked, if not unnoticed altogether. Background noise sometimes. I won't say it was unpleasant, what Alamir suffered. I know as well as any how painful armor can be when heated, especially if it hasn't been properly enchanted against such things. I won't say I didn't enjoy it when he started to beg. It only got worse when he realized I didn't want information, or even gold or flesh. For all he knew, I was simply a random sadist and he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I liked that; he probably tormented himself mentally with an assortment of what ifs that would have seen him avoid this unknown individual.
It was good practice, though, for later. I'm still working out the logistics of dealing with Jovan similarly. I may have to experiment on the others as I hunt them down before him. I wonder, when he realizes what's happening, how many bodyguards he'll hire. How well he'll sleep. What assassins he'll hire to come after me. I don't doubt he'll know who's behind it when it's underway, after all.
But I digress. I did finally let Alamir see my face, but only after I made him debase himself repeatedly. It was surprising just what he was willing to do to spare himself further pain or even preserve his own life; it was almost fascinating what he was willing to do to himself as long as it didn't further scar his pretty skin, and what he was willing to say. I'm not completely amoral, though-- after a while my skin began to crawl, and I knew I had to end it. My enjoyment may not have been perverted, but it was growing darker than I wanted to allow.
I'll treasure that look in his eyes when he saw my face, though, right before my sword sliced through his neck.
On him I found a strange book. A well-tooled leather cover of red and gold, embossed and decorated, but without a title or author. I had assumed it was a paladin's libram, but it wasn't; instead of esoteric incantations and prayers-- hah, prayers!-- I found...many blank pages. And a list of names. At first glance it seemed to be a list of targets, but many of these looked to be nicknames and pseudonyms rather than proper names, and not all were sin'dorei or even of Horde races.
Soon enough I began to see words appear, by magic. Comments, for lack of a better term, by some of those on the list. It was as though people were having conversations. I wasn't sure how the enchantment worked until I accidentally brushed over it with a couple of fingertips and found my latest thought coming forth in text. Alarm turned to curiosity, when I realized that thought had not yet made it over the 'network' of this tome. I figured it out soon enough, though. Apparently others' function slightly differently, requiring actual pen and ink; I should get some for myself, should the touch-enchantment wear out.
Besides, I'd rather have more direct control over what goes into it without having to singularly focus so much. Maybe one of my associates can tweak it slightly. We'll see. Since it was Alamir's, I wonder if others have similar, and I wonder if it can be used to find them. We'll have to see, indeed.
In the meantime, I am content for the time being. It has been a good week.
