Miss Vox Night

“Won’t go on!” Nerina fussed, pushing the piece of driftwood and lace away from her. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, her face scrunched up in frustration.

Elaianna looked over to her with a soft expression, though her eyes spoke of gentle reprimand. “Lady Nerina,” she cooed. “If it won’t go on, what do we do?” she asked. She dragged her chair closer to her daughters and reached out for the smoothed over piece of wood. Taking it in her hands delicately, she looked it over, and then back to Nerina as she awaited an answer.

The child was more content to huff and puff than answer.

“We ask for help,” Elaianna told her. “Do you want help with your boat?”

Nerina jutted her lower lip out into a pout, and vivid blue eyes stared up at her mother. Her head nodded, jet black tresses bouncing.

“How do we say that?”

With a dramatic sigh, Nerina’s shoulders raised up and then fell back down, arms still crossed in stubborness over her chest. “Can you help me with the boat, Mama?” Still, Elaianna looked at her, raising a single brow as Nerina’s question finished, without a key word. “…Pleeeeaaase, Mama.”

Only then did Elaianna nod her head with a smile. “Of course, mo storeen.” With care, she took the lace and looked it over. “Here is the issue, sweetheart. We’re all smushed.” The corner was crumpled from being repeatedly smashed against the blunt mast of the boat. With her fingertips, Elaianna worked out the wrinkles. “We just need to take the time to work out the problem. See?” As her mother showed her what she had done, Nerina finally unfolded her stubborn arms, and nodded once more. “I see, Mama.”

“Do you want to try again now?”

Another nod. “Yes, Mama.”

Smiling, Elaianna handed both lace and driftwood ship back to Nerina. The lace sail didn’t slip on easily this time either– abuse of fabric would do that, no matter how ironed out the wrinkles were. With her hands over Nerina’s, Elaianna helped her guide the slip of lace over the mast.

“Beautiful, mo storeen.” Leaning down, Elaianna kissed the crown of her head. “Now let’s try another– this time all on your own. I believe you have the hang of it.”

Later that day, a few ships made their rounds throughout Stormhollow. The first went to Nerina and Aberdeen’s governess, Andritte. The second was hand delivered by Nerina to Eidrich, for both him and Kaitlyn. The third made it’s way to the Harbor Chief’s office. A fourth to Miss Night. The fifth, and the largest, waited until the Admiral returned home from his voyage, where wife and daughters would be waiting on the docks for him.

None of her pining and obsession mattered the minute she received this beautiful gift made of fine material.

Friday night came and went. A blur of an evening. Time well spent. What was supposed to be a simple outing turned into something far different. Something wilder. Brighter. Scandalous and deviant. 

Saturday morning brought early light and a new day, yet Sybil couldn’t find it in her to fully wake. Upon her bed she remained, tangled in auburn colored sheets, wrapped around her guard Kade who still wore his clothes from dinner the night before. The room was too warm, too inviting to leave. Candles flickered in an erotica fashion, swaying from left to right seductively. There was nowhere else she would rather be. Nobody else she would rather spend this moment with, despite what anyone else thinks.

There was a magnetic attraction to this man. Perhaps it was the dark forbidden lure of the void within him, or, there was something far more fascinating about him. A man that could easily play both sides of the coin. A man that could adapt to any situation so effortlessly you couldn’t help but wonder if he warped your own sense of reality. Kade is a dangerous delight for the Marquise who becomes easily enamored with crude and ungodly things. An interruption from mundane meetings. In her reprieve and in his company she is like some wild thing that regained her youthful virginity.

Despite what Lady North thought about this roguish man, Kade was still a sore topic for some. Rumor came to her ear that the Stewards thought poorly of Sybil for spending time with this man. Rumors she didn’t care to believe. The Stewards had more important matters to deal with at hand. Why would anyone care who a mysterious lady from a well shrouded land spends time with? The only one she knew for certain that despised Kade and quite frankly, Sybil didn’t care. If anything, it made her want to spend time with the void elf more if others dare say he was forbidden.  It was a dirty shame that brought a smile to her face to do as she pleased.

Even if Kade left a bad taste in the mouth of those at court, regardless, Sybil had nothing but good thoughts to think about the Stewards. They were a lively bunch, humorous and entertaining, unlike so many other noble houses that felt like time spent at a funeral. Lord Hinik proves to be a respectable leader and tells wonderful tales. Lady Nightvale’s charisma is nothing less than enchanting and it was easy to see how he became sick with love under her spell. Perhaps Lord Da’Kien has a few secrets of his own he didn’t wish to tell. Did he love his elven bride’s void nature, or the woman before the void’s dirty, mesmerizing whispers?

Rolling away from Kade, Sybil grabs her opium pipe that sat in a pile of ash on her nightstand. Bringing it to her lips, she enjoys one last hit of pleasure. One last dreamy sigh before she slipped back to slumber with wonder of what life will bring in the days to come.

Void Salts

The Butcher of Bloodcrown

There was a reason Lady North was often reserved. The North family line wasn’t to blame. The women from this clan have been accused of having a brooding, shadowy disposition. In truth, Sybil enjoyed colorful outings, the more obscene and eccentric, the better.

The Stewards offered a game of chance on a fine planned evening. A night of camaraderie  Take a potion at will, wait for the effects to take shape and pay a small price of a bit of embarrassment. It was an evening for all to enjoy fun and merriment, even for the new face at court, the Marquise. Spin the wheel, accept your fate. Sybil was given the potion of truth. How devastating could it be? It was simply a game.

But then, it was not. There was a breach of her hidden memories. Everything black that she has seen and done rushed to the gates of her mind wishing to be set free. Out in the open. Truths that could destroy her legacy and name. Truths that if they came into the wrong hands, a hangman’s noose most certainly would be her fate.

Amon killed Lord Bloodcrown, choked his fat neck to death in his hot bare hands. He sat him in the throne room chair to rot for weeks., a symbol of the new order of things while Nikym the Strange was tasked with political cleanup. All of his family servants were put to death and their families were compensated with the noble titles that had been bestowed on Bloodcrown’s bastard children.

Nikym made elaborate works of art using the scenes of massacre as a kind of canvas. All manner of depraved, childlike mania on display for all of Bloodcrown to fully appreciate the savage chaos of their new order. Nikym came to be known among the people as the Butcher of Bloodcrown. And now? Sybil could have been accused of the same.

Lady North allowed all of this to happen. She celebrated the madness of her court. She approved and encouraged all of the sick devastation upon the Bloodcrown lands. Her deceased husband gifted her back her throne. The one stolen from the North clans many moons ago.

After the party, Sybil lingered and engaged in conversation with Acinovath, the brother of the Lord Steward’s bride to be. He stated he enjoyed games of bloodsport, and there was a reason why she said the same. Could he see behind the veil? Or was this a simple conversation without meaning, just prattle to fill the space between their ears.

Only time will tell. And in the meantime? The Butcher of Bloodcrown came to Kul Tiras to bring his dark message and legacy to the woman that wore the rulers crown atop her head.

Kade’s ears flick briefly as he hears Sybil’s door shut. She was retiring for the night, or whatever else she might do in her private chambers when everyone else is gone.

He wasn’t gone. Not completely. He shuts the door to the room she had assigned to him, next to her own. He moves as quietly as the situation allows, as he is shaken from head to toe.

His mind is a riot of thoughts as he busies himself unbuckling and unstrapping his armor, assigned to him and his kind. He had despised it when he first held it in his hands– being a rogue, or a Vagabond, a Street Urchin even (two things the Lady Sybil enjoyed referring him as), the lack of a chest piece was worrisome. He spent a small bit of time finding a top that matched, and kept the outfit safe in a void pocket until it was needed. It hadn’t been, for so long. A suit of armor made of gold and swirling void spheres was not helpful in his line of work. It did not allow him to sneak, and it also made a bit of clunky noises when he walked. He stayed in his dark leathers, faintly enchanted to be as silent as he had learned to be. Now it’s useful. I think. Should I be wearing this? I still don’t know what she has planned for me. Sometimes the way she speaks makes me worry I’ll be in a loincloth with leather straps. Not that it would be too terrible. The befuddled elf shakes his head at his own thoughts as he finishes carefully setting the bits of armor on the bed. As he stares down, he tries to figure out where the mask was when he waved his fingers in a line as if he was cutting a swath in the air, producing a small void pocket. He held his hand underneath causing the mask to slip out. Moving it between hands, he closes the void tear and adds the mask to the collection. He stands tall, trying to quiet his racing heart. As he slides off his underclothes, he begins to recall the evening. The unfortunate meeting with Euflyr, an maddeningly tall night elf that was chasing the Lady’s hand. Euflyr seemed to be strongly intimidated by Sybil’s apparent preference for the void elf, which Kade had done little to dissuade. He enjoyed watching the man fight for Sybil’s affection, which was her own to give to whom she pleased. Kade knew he was near her only because she wanted to be, and was trying to prepare himself when she would undoubtedly cast him aside when she tired of their fling. It’s just a fling.

She let you lead her in dance. She let you lift her onto the table to falsely check for cuts or stains from the wine and other liquids they had let fall onto the wood of the tavern’s patio.

She let you pick her up, cradle her in your arms  to her horse and see her home.

She’s in charge.

Kade moves to run his hands through his hair, his lifelong motion to attempt to quell nervousness. His fingers tangle in the… locks of void energy in his hair? The months had passed since he had taught his body to welcome the void inside, and to master it. He still couldn’t figure out why it was stuck in his hair. He growls and quickly pulls his hands free, glancing in the mirror offered on the opposite wall. Yes, he was handsome, though not blindingly so. It was a feature that would generally come in handy on his assignments. He was standing in the nude, as that was how he preferred to sleep and he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Taking note of the rather curious exposition offered, the Marquis returns little more than a passing glance to the strange figure. Turning to his husband - a notoriously bratty blonde in his own right - to quips, “Here I’d been led to the assumption that all of the pricks in Stormwind were rotted. Which, makes the number to be constrained by a single bush the greater evil.”

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In addition we’ll have a member there selling unique goods not yet previewed! You’ll have to make your way to the festival to find out what these goodies are!

The morning light spread greedily throughout Boralus, stealing the last moment of sleep from the eyes of early risers. Even the Dampwick Ward was greeted by a moment of the light’s bright hope. The roaming fog and cloud of desperation immediately settled in the area, ruining any chance of a better day. Men and women proudly went to work at the Ashvane Docks for a hard days labor in exchange for an embarrassing amount of pay. Even the thieves and leather covered scoundrels began mapping and planning how to seize the day. Lady North wondered about one vagabond in particular that toyed with the opportunity to court her attention.

Kade. An unknown in the city. A failed Sin’dorei, poisoning the pure and proud arrogance that runs through the children of blood’s veins.

Rumor has it that Lady North’s last husband Master Amon was a poet, his words and vision meticulously crafted. On all accounts that rumor was true. The violent spirit of Bloodcrown’s feared Dark Riders churned within him, yet he failed, falling prey to the hands of death by combat, way too soon. Their love they shared was cut short and Sybil felt cheated. The God of Death she worshipped stole what she loved most away.

Different stages of mourning plagued her for many days, months, and years. With death comes rebirth, and the Marquise found herself ready, eager, and willing to try something new. She left the comforts of her homeland and returned to Kul Tiras noble society and stumbled upon a group of aristocrats with a just and honorable name. The Stewards so far have proved to be a strong noble house to align with. Lord Steward’s court boasted pleasant company. The court consisted of groomed soldiers and magic practitioners that knew their way around spell, swords, and war. In a way she felt relief that her own success as a depraved ruler was not common knowledge, for good reason. She feared time will catch up and her past nefarious deeds will be revealed, unveiling the truth of her being. The art of necromancy was not often celebrated and thankfully, very few know of her affection for dark magic. Posing as a Tidesage was easy, especially to those that hail from the mainland.

He had been gone all day. It wasn’t that his absence was uncommon. Being a man of the sea, being the sailor that she had fallen in love with, he was often spent upon the Tidemother’s waves. What was uncommon was him being absent when he was home from sea. It was even more uncommon that when she went looking for him that he couldn’t be found.

The first and logical place Elaianna checked was the harbour. Everyone she asked had either the same story, or hadn’t seen the Admiral all day. He was last at the harbour shortly after breakfast, with both of the little ladies. One even said he saw them heading back towards Stormholme castle, Nerina carrying her skirts full of ‘pretty rocks’. 

Aberdeen was too young, still far too little, to give answer to Elaianna upon where her Father went after that. Nerina just giggled and shook her head. She had a grin that reminded Elaianna maybe a little too much of Nerina’s Father. She looked like the cat that ate the canary, and while Elaianna was suspicious, there was no answer she got out of the little lady. Their governess was just as skeptical, and at just as much of a loss as Elaianna.

The kitchens were the next place she looked. While the Duke never had to make his own food, Thomas was a man from a far simpler background than Elaianna. He enjoyed the kitchen, and perhaps even trusted the food more when it came from his own hands. Never had Elaianna complained about it. Somehow her husband cooked better than any of the chef’s food she had the pleasure of dining.

No one within the kitchens had seen him all day. 

It was at this point Elaianna was beginning to get mildly frustrated, and concerned. At the very least he should be responding on his communication stone. It showed as she stepped outside of the kitchens, and her nose crinkled.

“Perhaps his office, your Grace?” 

Elaianna looked to her handmaiden, Vox, and nodded her head. She was a bit annoyed with herself that she hadn’t thought of that. “In hindsight, it seems an obvious location,” she agreed.

Yet, as they arrived, the office was empty. Elaianna exchanged a look with Vox. Both of them were equal parts confused and clueless as to where Thomas had vanished to.

“His Grace often practices his mistweaving by the fountain in the garden when the harbour is busy,” Kaitlyn spoke up. “We haven’t tried there.”

Elaianna pursed her lips to the side, increasingly frustrated with herself for not having thought of that either. “To the garden,” she announced.

With both guard and handmaiden in tow, Elaianna led the way to the garden. As they passed the living quarters there was a giggle from Nerina. One that caused Elaianna to look in the nursery’s direction and smile lightly. Those girls had a way of making her frustrations dissipate. 

Outside, Elaianna took the cobblestone path through the garden. “Keep your eyes open,” she told both women. “At this point, I’m expecting to find him asleep in a bush.” Even with that expectation, they made their way to the center of the gardens where a great fountain was erected, water trickling over it’s marble carvings. Still no Thomas.

“Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys! When th’ wind blows, we’re all together, boys~”

Elaianna stopped mid step and looked about. “Do you hear that?”

Kaitlyn and Vox were already looking about just as Elaianna had. 

“It’s coming from over there.” Kaitlyn nodded to their left.

With a hop in her skip, Elaianna followed the sound of the shanty.

“Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blooooow~~ Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady as she gooooess~”

It was getting louder. They were getting close! The path within the garden curved, and Elaianna kept on it as she kept drawing nearer to her husband’s voice.

“Up jumps th’ whale! The largest of all! ‘If you want any wind, well, I’ll blow ye a squall!~’ ”

The singing was getting closer! Yet there was no Thomas in sight. Only the gardening closet. Just outside of it was a round ball, imbued with the glow of nature’s magic… and all around it, fresh and lush grass with a plethora of flowers. It was one of Nerina’s favourite toys.

“Then up jumps th’ fisherman, hey! Stalwart ‘n’ grim! An’ with his big net he scoops ‘em all, in!~ Aaand it’s, wiiindy weather, boys, stooormy weather, boys~~“

There was no mistaking it. The singing was coming from the closet. Elaianna looked to the toy, then to the door which had it’s padlock clicked shut. She took no time in piecing together Nerina’s earlier giggles. 

Behind her, Kaitlyn wasn’t even trying to hide her smirk.

Stepping up to the door, Elaianna pulled a hair pin from her hair. Vox could fix the one errant tress of hair later. Using the pin, she took her time, picking at the lock. 

“Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blooooow~~ Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady as she gooooess~”

A ‘click’ sounded her success. Pulling the lock off, she opened the door. She was greeted with the sight of Thomas crammed among the gardening tools, with barely enough room for his broad shoulders to fit in the gardening closet. In his hands, he held a little doll– also Nerina’s.

“I knew you’d find me eventually, gal,” Thomas said as he looked up to Elaianna with a big, stupid grin on his face. “Ya know, I really think Nerina takes after you.”