Yogg-Saron

“It is standing right behind you… Do not move… Do not breathe…”  Kyi’lin held the box despite her urge to drop the item and leave it to be forgotten, but that voice… she’d have heard that voice before. Curiosity caused her thumb to slide a latch and try to flip the closest side open. “All places, all things have souls… All souls can be devoured…” This time the shaman managed to move, but her arm moved, sliding the box into one of her bags. She touched her totems before running towards the path leading back to the Taunka village. Kyi shook her head, what was she even running from, the area was kept safe by the Taunka hunters, the voice lied, nothing could have been behind her. A large lump of fur, muscle and thick leather clothing caught her, stopping her sprint instantly. She reached for her skinning knife, but a large hand caught her and the deep rumble of a friendly voice followed.

From the journal of Amara Niall:

When one walks through a door, the transition from one place to another is obvious and sudden. When walking into a forest from a plain, the transition might be more subtle, with light trees and brush giving way to thicker growth more slowly. A transition abrupt but not obvious is rare, in nature. It is akin to coming upon a sea after crossing much sand, with the sun at such an angle that the sea and sand look alike - and either the sea is still, or the sand stirs like the waves, so they cannot be told apart until the water laps on one’s toes. Or suddenly swallows one whole. Or is the transition the other way, and one suddenly feels heavy upon a grainy shore, and finds that he has washed up on sand?

An empty bed beside her. Where is her beloved?

Trust is your weakness...

It's too damn cold up here.

 Give in to your fear...

The crimson-crowned Priestess sat up in her bed suddenly, that voice.. that voice calling her from the depths of sleep; the warm, comfy nest she'd lapsed into during the long night of work and study. Pale hands lifted, fingertips rubbing the remnants of sleep from emerald eyes. Did someone say something? Those eyes now flickered to the small black kitten that was nestled into the coils of the mana wyrmling. They seemed to get along well, which was nice, but.. not particularly an answer to her question. Rising from the warmed blankets, she smoothed out the soft linen pajamas that lay over her slender form.

Tell yourself again that these are not truly your friends...

*CLANG* as gauntleted fist strikes armored shoulder.

"Hey, fuck you."

"You pulled it out."

"Yeah, I said we would, didn' I? Actually, ah said we'd die. Don' matter tho'."

"Hey, fuck you too. But thanks for not crapping out this time, Kast."

Later...

"Sorry I delayed our second meeting so long," I said, propping myself in a chair across from the warlock, putting one foot up on another chair next to me. "Things got hairy on the last phase of our Ulduar campaign right after we first met to discuss your troubles."

His bright green eyes look out from under a dark hood. "That is unfortunate. I take it that is now resolved?"

"The seals holding the old god were weaker than anyone thought," I explained, and paused to take a drink of mead before grinning and saying, "We stuffed it back down its hole, though."

Messenger of fear in sight
Dark deception kills the light

Hybrid children watch the sea
Pray for father, roaming free

Amara "Flamefist" Niall: missing for two days.

His secure Dalaran apartment, provided by the Violet Eye and shared with Arasminna Moonsong (and sometimes Zaas Glados Devereaux), held a half-finished treatise on Val'kyr and the spirit world next to a cold cup of coffee (one sugar, no cream). The five completed pages were scattered on the floor near his writing desk, with one half-finished page marked by a large, scrawled note: THEY DON'T WANT TO HEAR THIS! WHY AM I BOTHERING!?

The Order of Magicks offices in Stormwind and Ironforge kept for warder master-at-arms Niall haven't been visited in more than a week.

The Argent Crusade hasn't signed him in since Friday.

He was seen passing through Shattrath City yesterday.

In the Netherstorm, he is sitting on the edge of a floating rock, surrounded by a crowd of drakes. He stares at the endless abyss and says, "No, Zoyin. I can't go back yet."

((Title and lyrics stolen from www.youtube.com/watch  Yogg-Saron quotes taken from various in-game quotes.))

Chaos swirled around him.  His friends bickered and fought amongst each other as he lit another cigarette.  Ichorish clouds drifted past, obscuring the ten huddled together.

A vague shadow lurking in the dark

"I am the lucid dream..."

The man listened, lighting a cigarette as he did.

A sane man's worst nightmare

"...The monster in your nightmares..."

"My nightmares wake me up every night."  He exhaled smoke, gazing calmly at the horror before him.  "But it's not you I dream of."

A vision containing death

...The fiend of a thousand faces...

I'll tell them I was meditating, Otsdarva thought as he soared high above the clouds. The gryphon, the same one that had taken quite a large load off of his wallet soared above the clouds. It flew to the southwest towards Dalaran and away from the nightmares and visions he had been privy to.

The Storm Peaks had been a beautiful land when he saw it from the sky. A land that he felt would bring him closer to the spirits in his meditations. The clouds swirled swiftly and meaninglessly amongst the towering peaks. The shining Titan structures stood as a testament of the ages. Countless millenia had passed and they still stood strong, stood tall and proud. For countless millenia they had remained untouched by mortal hands. That seemed doomed to change now. The soft snow was trampled with debris and blood.

Race

            “Hurry up, ya fat fuck! I got seven kills up on you!” Elrin shouted as he sliced his way through another zombie. “Wha’ are ya takin’ a nap, ol’ man?”

            Hron’s heart thudded in his chest. Thump thump thump. The joints in his arms and legs were on fire. They had been at it for almost six hours, just killing wandering undead. The pains were the worst, here in Icecrown. The ghouls didn’t help, either, of course.