[Anyone out and about this time of night may come across two vaguely familiar figures silently patrolling the halls. They are elves, sure enough, but their eyes are burning red, their hair and skin pallid. Weaponry adorns their black, ornate armor; well-used swords at hips and longbows crafted from bone slung over shoulders. They move with grace
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Comments 114
But as the seasons changed and the castle quieted, Sylvanas could not help but seek them out. Upon finding no answer from behind the door in which they owned, the banshee was beside herself with confusion. And so, she would find herself looking about the castle, perhaps to the room of hers that changed so drastically.]
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Could it be? Had there really been more Forsaken entering this realm? Why, the thought only made her travel a bit faster, if not disapparating to the exact floor in which she lived, taking a greater stride to the door guarding her quarters, and to that effect?
She would quickly find the sight before her.]
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At the sight, she could not help but approach them slowly, with the greatest of dignity-- but when she catches sight of their faces, ears nearly pin back with defensive hesitation, she blade quickly drawn.]
What-- what sort of sick, twisted mockery is this?
[Her tone is dark, her tone is lowered. Behind her words is the sort of violent anger that would not be held back easily. Whatever illusion the castle was holding over her would not be greeted well.]
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Alleria is seemingly unfazed by Sylvanas's anger, and instead inclines her head respectfully, offering a salute to her queen.]
Dark Lady. What ails you?
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Need some assistance looking for the Dark Lady?
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Alleria scoffs, the sound reverberating, not even bothering to look for whatever journal was nearby, dictating their conversation to everyone.]
Even if we did, I do not think you could provide any aid.
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She will return in time.
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Ouch. And here I am simply trying to be a gentleman, Alleria.
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But they weren't exactly on the best of terms to begin with. No harm in a little bit of ribbing now that they were undead, right? RIGHT?]
You sound as if you've both caught a nasty sort of plague.
[...yeah, he can't justify this.]
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She doesn't even want to regard him, knowing well enough that he's locked away and in a rather pathetic state. But as impatient and easily riled as she is, she allows for a low growl of disapproval. ARTHAS PLZ.]
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[You know...closer to Common Gutterspeak instead of some weird Thalassian Gutterspeak hybrid GOSH, DON'T YOU HAVE ANY CULTURAL SENSITIVITY?]
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Go back to rotting in your pathetic little prison hole.
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Except why do you look different and are talking all funny and uh oh.]
...Are you alright?
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Why do you ask?
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Likewise, Alleria does not give much of a reaction until they are directly spoken to.
And even then, her reaction is simply an unblinking, red-eyed stare.]
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[A severe understatement.]
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A... Alleria? Vereesa?
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Yes?
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I- ah... a-are you two alright?
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