The Writhing Site

This adventure takes place within a few days of “Silverpaws” on a small island in Tiragarde Sound in Kul’Tiras.

Rhoelyn 11/22/2018
Rhese Silverwing reaches up for the last handhold, latching on to the wet, slick rock with strong fingers and pulling himself smoothly over the lip of the treacherous cliffside. He crouches low for a moment, still and wary, his amber eyes searching for any sign of threat or any observers. All he finds is a particularly ambitious crab that stares back at him, clacking its claws in warning. He smirks and darts a hand out, grabbing the little guy and tossing him bodily over the edge of the rocks.

"Get back to the ocean, you idiot," he mumbles as a distinct splash sounds from below.

The surprised meep from down the rocks makes him wince, and he peeks his head over the edge, offering a hand to the green-clad smaller figure climbing behind him. "Sorry if I startled you, lovely. It was just an uppity crab."

Araatris
"I saw that a little too closely, Rhese." She takes his hand and climbs over the end, crouching. "We're getting closer so we'll want to be careful."

She stands summoning her spirit wolf, Korran. "It's a shame I couldn't bring Tsume, but wolves aren't made for scaling cliffs." The blue glow spun out from her chest and resolved into a wolf shape at her side. "Ready, beloved?"

Rhoelyn
The druid nods and glances over his shoulder at the hilly terrain behind them that leads deeper onto the island. The twisted tops of some statue are  just visible a few rises over.

Rhese turns back and mutters, "The rocks really weren't that bad. Maybe Grave's gone as soft as Morthis."

More loudly, he muses to Nysse, "How long do Worgen live? Grave... hm. Maybe he's elderly. I can never tell with those human faces. His hair wasn't silver, though..."

Though the druid seems distracted, he trudges along the rise, his steps more silent than his quiet words.

Araatris
"Likely as long as any human. I doubt their curse extended their life. It's more likely that he doesn't climb much. Perhaps he should think about doing that more though." Nysse comments as she scans the woods.

She gestures for them to move a slightly different direction. The ghost wolf ranges in front of them, only glancing back occasionally. "Korran can smell people passing through here. It may be a path they use."

Rhoelyn
"How fresh? He was expecting them to have cleared out by now," her mate asks at a whisper, seeing no reason to shift forms to answer his question for himself.

Araatris
Nysse crouches and looks for herself. She replies in a soft voice, "Not in the last few days. It make have taken time to clear out equipment. We'll be cautious just in case, but I think we're clear."

She straightens and starts walking again.

Rhoelyn
"If that's the case, I think I'll be vaguely disappointed," he rumbles.

Her druid strides beside her for a few steps before his form folds, the cat's lithe body padding along in place of the night elf's. He brushes up against her leg for just a moment before he breaks into a run and fades into the trees.

Araatris
The huntress sighs. "I never said they weren't at the site..." She darts after him, ghost wolf at her heels.

Greyseer
The dig site, at first glance, appears abandoned. Various patches of unearthed ground clearly mark where people had been searching for what were reportedly artifacts of unknown origin. There are, at initial count, four smaller areas of work and one larger pit. The larger pit is on the opposite side of the camp, surrounded by a rope fence with tattered Horde flags posted at each of the four corners. Its depth makes it impossible to see inside.

Very little equipment appears to be leftover near the smaller locations, but small covered bundles look to litter the rim of the larger pit ahead.

Rhoelyn
By the time Nysse and Korran dash out of the trees, the cat is nosing at the nearest dig site sniffing at the tracks and trails, listening to the story of the place. He raises his head and looks at the huntress before tilting his nose toward one of the other small sites.

Araatris
Nyssera nods and heads over to the next small site and exploring it. She studies the area around and then within. "I don't think there's much at this one. Just a few broken tools so far." She pushes more dirt while Korran sniffs and paws around.

Rhoelyn
After a while, Rhese joins her from his own fruitless search, rubbing along her leg before he pads along to the next small site. His amber gaze and sharp senses scan the rolling terrain around them as he goes, trying to make sure that they're still alone.

Both the druid and Korran pause at the same time, looking over to the next rise, where the trees are thicker.

Araatris
Nysse tenses for a long moment as they watch, then a deer steps out freezing. She sighs and relaxes. "An animal. Korran can keep an eye out while we check out the last two smaller pits." She pats Rhese's back as she passes him.

Rhoelyn
The saber nods and heads to the other side from his mate, his form unfolding until the night elf kneels at the edge of a pile of dirt, sifting through loose pebbles with his fingers. The bear claws on his gloves occasionally leave four tracks in the soil behind his touch.

"All the traces I've been able to find are old. Softened by wind and weather. Is there anything fresher in the sites you've looked at, dalah'surfal?"

Araatris
The huntress picks up a trowel and a few broken shards of... something from the small pit. "These must have been their first attempts."

Nysse shakes her head. "I'm finding mostly discards. A few tools, but nothing worthwhile. Shall we check out the large pit? I see some bundles over there. Maybe we can find something Grave can use."

Rhoelyn
Rhese stands, dropping a handful of dirt and rocks to the ground at his feet with a nod.

"Cover me," he says as he turns that way. "I don't like the line of sight around that pit. And I really need to shred a few flags before we leave."

His handsome face twists as he sneers at the rope around the edge and its unappealing decorations.

Araatris
The huntress frowns, but nods. "Yes, I'll watch out. Be careful and don't engage unless you have to."

Nysse moves to get a good angle to sweep as much as the landscape as possible. She holds bow ready as she scans the area. "Go on."

Rhoelyn
"Anything my lady wishes," the druid mutters with a little smile before his form folds, and he stalks toward the large, deep pit, animal senses sharp. His paws pad in the moist dirt, leaving tracks in a wide circle around it as he sifts the air for smells and sounds. He doesn't move close enough to nose at one of the covered piles until after he's made one complete round around the final dig site, wary and tense.

Greyseer
Something shifts from within the pit: the sound of something metallic rolling down a short incline. No other noise accompanies it.

A gust of wind rustles one of the nearby piles along the edge, releasing a puff of some unpleasant odor from beneath. It's familiar--almost metallic, perhaps coppery--but fades far too fast once the tarp over it re-settles; unnaturally fast.

There is another lingering scent in the air, too, coming from within the pit. It's the sharp, short smell of sparking metal. The thinness of the aroma suggests that it's far along on it's way to being faded.

Araatris
"Rhese, is someone over there?" Her voice carries an edge of wariness, but she doesn't dare look over her shoulder.

Rhoelyn
The druid pauses a half-dozen paces from the nearest pile, shifting back in order to answer her, his narrowed gaze on the pile. "I don't think so. It's hard to be sure. But something seems to be moving in the pit, something maybe more like a mechanism. And... and I don't like what I smell, here. These... enticing little piles of temptation smell rotten."

He risks a glance in her direction, just a momentary flick of the eyes. "What do you think, my lovely? Should we find out what our degenerate Horde hosts left as a present?"

Araatris
She backed toward him. "Yes, I think we should."

As she neared the pit, she spun and gave it her full attention. She narrowed her eyes at it. "Shall we start with the bundles or with whatever is in there? If it's a titan machine..."

Rhoelyn
"If it's a Titan machine," he finishes for her, glancing into the dark pit, "it'll meet the same fate as the first one we met, Nysse."

The druid turns his attention back to the covered something in front of them, though, frowning. "But let's not go in leaving these surprises at our backs. Even if they're just smelly supplies and nothing more sinister, I don't like mysteries between me and open skies."

Rhese smirks askance at his love, teasing, "Maybe it's the crow's influence, but I feel strongly about it."

Araatris
Nysse chuckles. Her gaze flickers to him. "Crow or cat. Don't humans have a saying about cats? Something about curiosity?"

She crouches down in front of one of the bundles and rests her bow across her knees. The huntress reaches out and picks up a cloth cover bundle. "Now let's see what's in these."

Rhoelyn
With a snort, the other night elf mutters, "I don't think that human saying ends well for the cat, my lovely. Let's maybe not use that one."

Despite the banter and the light tone, he watches her carefully, ready to move as she pulls the cloth away.

Greyseer
The tarp is pulled away to reveal a pile of...meat? It looks like a butchered pile of meat, left out to rot under the cover of some worn-out canvas tarp. The flesh is still raw and red, with a small puddle of blood and juices having formed on the ground beneath it. It neither looks nor smells fresh, but it does not look like it has been out here very long. It has not rotted completely, just yet.

The tarp itself shimmers in the light, something not quite natural. An enchantment, perhaps? When it covers the disgusting pile, the odor of coppery blood vanishes almost entirely. Likely, it is protected by a layer of spellwork that prevents the scent from carrying too far. Without it, it would be attracting the attention of every wild carnivore in the area.

Something tiny and worm-like wriggles out from beneath the mound, exploring the bloody flesh with its faceless form. At closer glance, there are a few of these worms scattered throughout the pile. They are a dark blue in color, and they shimmer in a way similar to the tarp.

Araatris
"... Rotten meat. Were they just dumping their leftover meat here? That's... that's disgusting, disrespectful, and lazy." Nysse makes a sour face.

She gestures for Rhese to join her while trying to breath shallowly. Even so the huntress is starting to look a little green. "This is awful. I think they even put the worms here on purpose. They don't look like normal ones."

Rhoelyn
The druid steps closer, frowning. "This doesn't add up. It's too purposeful to be trash piles."

He pinches the tarp between two fingers, lifting it and examining the sheen in the sunlight. "They wanted this meat to stay here, obscured by the... probably an enchantment in this cloth that deadens the smell so that the island scavengers don't come for it. But why?"

Brows furrowing, he tosses the worn cloth on the ground beside him and crouches, resting his wrists across his thighs. Rhese watches the strange little blue worms for a few heartbeats before he reaches out and gently plucks one up between thumb and forefinger.

"Food?" He peers closer at the wriggling worm, sifting his heightened senses. "Is it all to make sure these guys can eat it before anyone else does?"

Greyseer
The worm curls up towards his fingers and begins to wind itself around his thumb. It attempts to bury its face into it, as if trying to burrow.

The other worms seem to take notice, and begin to slither out from the exposed meat mound and towards the druid. More and more pour out, so much so that the pile itself collapses from the upheaval.

Araatris
Nysse flinches. "Put it down, Rhese!" She smacked his hand to attempt to knock the grub out of it. "They're obviously drawn to any meat, living or dead."

She scowls and twists to dig into her backpack for a jar, sliding it off one shoulder for better access. "Luckily, I keep a jar in here in case I run across anything Rhoelyn would like. Let's put some in it. I just hope they can't eat glass."

Rhoelyn
With the grub safely squirming in the dirt, Rhese scoots back a bit, away from the slow approach of its eerily-large number of peers. He glances at his thumb before reaching down to grab the silver and blue-lit dagger off his belt.

"I suppose we're going to find out," he rumbles, using the broad side of the blade to scoot-roll a handful of the worms away from the others and corral them there. "Have you ever seen any animal like this, Nysse? They almost look like every grub ever, but just not quite."

One of his little pile of personal wormies gets flipped around, rolled from belly to back to belly, not that the difference is obvious, by the tip of his dagger as he examines it. "It has the same short of shimmer to it as the cloth, doesn't it? "

Araatris
Shaking her head, Nysse uses her own dagger to scrape up half a dozen into the jar. "Maybe they're enchanted. Ardell may have a mage that can check them out."

She screws the lid down tightly and stares at them from the safety of outside the jar. "If they're not natural, and they're not like any I've seen, then I'm not sure of their full purpose. Why is this pile of meat here? Why are they eating it? Why hide it under those tarps so no one can smell them? Why did they abandon them?"

She sighs and tucks it into her backpack, then glances at another pile. "All questions, no answers. Shall we check another pile?"

Rhoelyn
"Mm." With a thoughtful tone, her mate mutters, "In just a minute. I want to see what's inside."

Before Nysse can do more than blink in confusion, he rolls one of the worms away from the others and stabs it lengthwise with a dagger, intending to cut it neatly in two along its long axis.

Greyseer
The worm wriggles violently as the blade splits it lengthwise, both halves squirming away from the blade. A silvery-purple goo spurts out from the open innards of each piece, but is quickly absorbed by the ground. The pieces of the creature continue to move for a few long moments after being cut, squirming back to their writhing brethren.

Upon closer examination, the two halves...no longer appear to be halves. They have become two separate wholes.

Araatris
Nyssera makes an unpleasant face and rests her hand on Rhese's arm. "That's  just... wrong. I'll make sure to tell Ardell not to do any dissections. We do need to make more of these... these... monstrosities. Please tell me you're done, Rhese."

Rhoelyn
The druid wrinkles his nose, nudging one of the new grub-things with his dagger. "Where's your sense of adventure, my lovely? We haven't seen what moonfire does to them. An exploding arrow sounds either effective or disastrous. I wonder how small of a piece can regenerate?" He slants her a glance askance, smirking.

Araatris
"Ugh... The air full of worm bits. Don't make me sick. I'll make sure to get sick on your beautiful boots." She ends with the threat, but it doesn't look far from the truth. She's more than a little green as she settles her bag on her shoulders and stands.

Rhoelyn
Rhese chuckles and starts, "Oh, if you think that'll bother me, you're confusing me wi-"

With a sudden scowl, he cuts himself off and stands, sheathing his dagger. One of the most ambitious of the nasty little grubs that's nearly reached the toe of his boot gets a little punt back into the meat pile, as he turns away from Nysse, looking out over the pit once more.

His momentary silence is decidedly moody, but the druid forces a levity to his tone despite how his expression has soured as he cocks a thumb over at the next covered mound, rumbling, "Let's go see what the rest are. Split up and don't get mobbed by unnatural worms?"

Araatris
His mate regards him with a sad smile. "Yes, of course. If they try to eat you again, just scream."

The huntress decides not to comment on his sudden shift. She strides the opposite direction to another bundle. "Maybe we'll find something other than rotting meat and worms to bring back to Grave."

Rhoelyn
"My bet is on worms, rot, and worms," Rhese says as he moves counterclockwise around the pit to the next covered pile. Nysse goes clockwise. "At least until we see what's going on in the pit."

To see if his bet is right, he lifts the next tarp off the new pile.

Greyseer
As the tarp is pulled from the next pile, the stench of death billows up from the pile beneath. It’s rotting meat, alright, but this mound is far more gruesome. Scraps of green tinted flesh are intermingled with other hues. Blue skin, brown fur, and even the familiar pale peach coloring of humans and high elves can be seen. Very little of it is still attached to any recognizable body part, however, and there does not seem to be a bone in sight.

One of the pieces of flesh moves, shifting down the side of the collection of gore as if in agony, reaching towards Reese’s boots. After a second, however, the shimmery-purple mass of worms peeks out from beneath it as they continue their slithering movement towards him.

Araatris
Nysse reaches down to pull up her own tarp as she asks Rhese, "Were you right? Is it more rot and worms?"

Greyseer
The pile beneath Nysse’s tarp is no pile at all. At least, not at first glance. Beneath the enchanted cloth is a huge pulsating silvery-purple worm, glistening in the sunlight. It expands and contracts as if...breathing? Pseudo appendages protrude from the sides and “bottom” of this thing, as if they were rudimentary arms and legs with neither hands nor feet.

At a closer glance it’s not actually a singular beast, but a tightly wound cluster of worms of varying sizes. They wrap and writhe around each other, forming strands of flesh tied into the larger mockery of a humanoid figure. The thing rolls over, its faceless “head” turning to look at Nysse...

Rhoelyn
Rhese makes a choked noise, his eyes going wide as he takes a quick step back. The tarp drops from his fingers to the ground.

"Cenarius' Beard! That's... this... this meat isn't from beasts. Did they butcher their own people?" He says it loudly enough for Nysse to hear, wrinkling his nose. What he says next gets muffled as he covers his sensitive nose with his arm.

"What the fel is going on here? We're getting farther and farther from digging for trinkets in the dirt."

Araatris
The huntress shrieks and jumps back from her tarp, dropping it back over the figure. She swings her bow around and shoots at the tarp. "Rot! Let's just burn them all! Can we burn them? Surely they can't regenerate from ashes!"

Her face is pale and she holds another arrow ready in case the tarp moves again. "He never said anything about evil, magical worms!"

Rhoelyn
The druid rushes back to Nysse’s side at the speed of a cat, stopping beside Korran with a snarl. He nudges in front of his mate, shouldering her back.

After a wary second or two, his eyes take on a moonlit glow and the sky above Nysse’s pile splits open, slashing moonfire down into the tarp-shrouded monstrosity as he yowls.

Greyseer
The writhing pile beneath the tarp explodes with a nasty squelching sound, and the air is filled with the odor of burning, rotting meat. The tarp itself catches fire, but does not rise away on the sudden heat. It is pinned to the body beneath, obscuring the burning mess. As the fire engulfs everything, the thing under the cover begins to flail and cry out. The noise that comes from it--the language? It sounds familiar.

Orcish. It's crying out in orcish.

Araatris
Nysse's eyes widen in horror as she stumbles back. "N-no. I didn't mean to-. I didn't know. Rhese! Someone's alive in there!" She surges forward, taking a tentative step past her mate. "We have to do something!"

Rhoelyn
Rhese clamps a hand on her arm, stopping the huntress in no uncertain terms, his grip unyielding. "Don't you touch it, Nysse. Can't you hear that? It's an orc," he growls the words, his eyes narrowing.

Araatris
She tugs against him, frowning. "Rhese, he's a victim of this thing. He doesn't deserve to die like this, orc or otherwise!" When he doesn't budge, she tries a different angle. "M-maybe he knows what happened here!"

Rhoelyn
For an extra long second, the druid glares at the writhing pile, and then finally he bites out a curse and grumbles. "Fine. Fine, but you still don't touch that thing. We can't see a rotting bit of what's going on under there. I'll take care of it."

Araatris
Relenting, the huntress nods and relaxes her pull against his arm. She still looks at the pile worriedly. "We need someone to tell us what happened here. This is just... unnatural. Just... please, do something quickly." She steps back.

Rhoelyn
With a weary sigh and a scowl, Rhese kneels and rests his fingertips on the ground. As he closes his eyes in concentration, seeking, he mumbles, "If the Hordie isn't useful, I'll end it more cleanly, at least."

His senses delve into the ground beneath them, verdant magic pulsing to life around his hands as he seeks through the land for the unrealized potential hiding in the soil. Amber eyes tinged with green pop open in the instant before a passel of meaty vines burst up in a ring around the orc-sounding pile of fire, ripping the tarp away and then immediately wrapping over it and smothering the flames. Rather ungently.

When there is nothing but smoke and less urgent screaming, the vine circle opens, coiling more organically around the base of the... thing.

Greyseer
There is a rather large male orc--or, rather, what remains of one--beneath a now-scattered pile of the grubs. The moonfire burst many of them apart, coating the area under the cover with their strange silvery-purple liquid. It looks as though they had surrounded the orc, and were...smothering? Consuming him. Now, however, many of the creatures scuttle away from the body, while others linger over him.

The orc's chest rises and falls in a slow and shallow manner. His eyes are closed.

No, his eyes are gone...

Araatris
Shuddering, Nysse asks gently. "Can you heal him? He can't help us if he's nearly dead." She takes a few steps up to his side now and stares at the scene, clutching her bow in front of her anxiously.

Rhoelyn
Rhese growls. "His rotting mouth still works, right? He doesn't need his eyes to-"

He stops and sighs at the look Nysse gives him, clenching his fists. After a grudging silence, her mate steps forward and flicks a few grubs away from his beefy shoulder before setting his hand against the silvery-purple liquid-streaked skin. Again, verdant magic glows around his fingers and in his eyes as he presses a heal into the enemy's damaged body.

With the other hand, he grabs Nysse's vine-abused and scorched barb where it protrudes from the stranger's thigh and roughly jerks it out. He just holds the bloody and ruined arrow in his left hand as he returns the rest of his attention to healing.

Greyseer
The orc screams as the nature magic begins to take over, reforming damaged tissue and rebuilding parts of his body. The orc's eyes, having likely been eaten by the mass of worms, do not return. Instead, a bundle of wriggling, purple slivers are forced out of the empty sockets by the healing, leaving streaks of their sticky coating across the brute's face as they flop to the ground beside his head.

After a few moments, his screams die down, but his breathing is far less shallow. He begins to softly mumble something repeatedly: the same words over and over in an exhausted whisper.

Araatris
The huntress walks over and crouches by Rhese, leaning down to listen. After a moment, the young woman reaches out to lightly touch his shoulder. She asks, "Do you understand common? You're free of the worms now. Do you know what happened here?"

Rhoelyn
Her mate simply watches with a wary frown, tense, and his grip on the bent arrow is white-knuckled.

Greyseer
The orc's voice is a low rumble, heavy with a wet guttural sound. It's difficult to tell if this is the natural state of his voice, or a side effect of being engulfed in the slimy worms.

"I... coughs ...I do. Who... who are you? I cannot see..."

Araatris
"Nyssera. I'm... I'm afraid your sight will not be coming back. Whatever happened has cost you that. We're trying to find out what happened here." She keeps her fingers against his shoulder so he can tell where see is. Nysse purposefully ignores Rhese's tense presence.

Greyseer
"Nyssera... It is coughs an elf name? Or draenei, but you have no...accent. You speak Common. You are not... not of the Horde." The orc shifts, as if uncomfortable. He then begins to squirm, and a few more worms wriggle out from beneath him. He stops after a few seconds, letting out a long, weary sigh. "Am I your prisoner?"

Araatris
Nysse nods before remembering that he can't see her. "Yes, it is elven, but you are not our prisoner. You seem to be a victim of this situation and it's bad enough without us making it worse." She shoots Rhese a sharp look. "What's your name?"

Rhoelyn
The druid presses his lips together, displeased, but his derisive snort is quiet. He says nothing on the matter.

Greyseer
"Just call me..." The orc takes a shuddering breath, as if deciding something. "Just call me Fireblade. I am--I was--a blademaster under Thrall's Horde."

Fireblade's breathing is still a bit ragged. His chest rises and falls in an uneven pattern, and his faces twists into an expression of pain every few seconds as he shifts his body. The purple-silvery worms still wriggle out from beneath him as he does so, some attempting to slither up his side to reach his face.

"Why...why are you here?"

Araatris
The huntress brushes the worms away from him with the gloved part of her hand. "We were asked to come check out an unusual encampment." Her voice is soothing. "You say Thrall's Horde. Are you not a part of the Horde any more?"

The young woman gestures to Rhese, miming carrying the orc away from the worm pile, then tilts her head. Her attention is still mostly on listening to their injured patient.

Greyseer
The orc is silent for a moment. His breathing steadies slowly, as if he's concentrating on controlling it in the silence.

His yellowish-green chest is almost entirely exposed, and his legs are covered in torn shreds of cloth soaked-through with the sticky worm-fluid. Upon his feet are what appear to be the remains of wooden sandals.

There are no weapons immediately visible nearby, but there is another pile unexplored...

Rhoelyn
"Alright," Rhese interjects at a growl, taking Nysse's cue as a good excuse to act on his anxieties. Fireblade doesn't get a chance to answer, yet. "If we're having a heart-to-heart, let's do it farther away from the flesh-eating abomination worms."

Without the same thoughtful manner as his mate, the druid surges forward and clamps a strong hand on the orc's shoulder. "Get up, orc. I'll... help."

The last word is said with a sneer, and he shoots Nysse an irritated look.

Araatris
A much gentler Nysse supports the orc from his other side even as she shoots Rhese a stern look. She mouths, "Don't be rough."

"Yes, we definitely should. None of us should be sitting in this... this mess, Fireblade." She chose to direct her statement at the orc while keeping a careful eye on her husband.

Greyseer
The orc staggers to his feet. His legs are wobbly, and he allows the other two to support a large portion of his bulk. He is exceedingly heavy.

As he rises, masses of worms fall from his back, hitting the ground atop their slithering compatriots with the tiny splits and splats. The state of his back is nothing short of horrific, run-through with countless holes dug into his flesh where the worms had been burrowing. Some still linger, wriggling frantically in the air as their companions fall away. The wounds do not bleed, however, perhaps a side effect of the healing magics, which makes them all the more disturbing.

"I hold no allegiance to this... cough ...abomination that Sylvanas has wrought. Just as I wished no part of the Horde under... coughcough ...Garrosh."

Rhoelyn
Rhese snorts, unconvinced and unsympathetic, though he does grimace at the state of the stranger's edible back as they half-carry him away from the pit and the bed of worms.

"Whatever allegiances you've chosen since then seem to have served you equally ill, orc. You look like a ruined slab of kodo meat." The druid's voice is still harsh, but the sharpest edges of it are softer for what the man said, and maybe he handles him just a little bit less roughly as he and Nysse lower him to his knees in the grass.

"Lay on your stomach. You still have friends that need to be... ... just hold still while I get these things out of you."

Rhese looks at Nysse and mutters, "You stay back. You two can chat while I work."

Araatris
She nods and gives Rhese a grateful look as she helps the orc. She glances for a quick spot to sit once he's laid down. "Don't worry, Fireblade. He should be able to help your back. Hopefully we can rid of these... parasites. I'm glad to hear that you don't support the current Horde. It eases my mind."

Smiling reassuringly even though he can't see her, the huntress asks, "Would you like to tell us how to you came to be in this situation?"

Greyseer
The orc winces and clenches his teeth as he lays down, face forward, on the ground. It's still evident that pain wracks him from his still-ongoing ordeal. He does not, however, cry out.

After settling to the worm-less ground, Fireblade takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice is a little more strained. It's unclear if that's because of the position in which he lays, or further injury from the infestation.

"I was asked to come here. It was suggested to me that an... ally... had been taken captive by the Horde. I was asked to help free him. Bloodlessly, if possible. If not..." Fireblade attempts to shrug, but immediately tightens his jaw in pain at the motion. "When I arrived, everything was already in chaos. The captive was no longer here, and the others..."

He pauses to take a few labored breaths.

"The others were being infested with these things. These...worms." The orc gestures vaguely back towards the pile from which he had been extracted. "They attacked me without hesitation, claiming that I was not... wheezes ...'one of them'. I defended myself, but there were too many."

Rhoelyn
Rhese peels off his clawed gloves and sets  them by his knee as he kneels beside Fireblade. Moving carefully, he starts to pluck the worms away from the gruesome cavities in the stranger's back, tossing them back toward the squiggling pile. He shows no great desire to linger over the nasty little beasts, but his work is thorough and straightforward as he clears the surface creatures and prods to explore just how deep in the beefy green orc apple the worms have burrowed.

The druid's touch lacks a true healer's delicacy, and his bedside manner consists of a grunted, distracted, "So for your trouble, you failed to save your friend and instead got fed to the worms. I'd call that mission fail, orc."

He pauses and glances over at the huntress, tossing another wiggler after its nasty kin. "What do you mean by 'the others were being infested'?"

Araatris
Nyssera frowns at the thought. "Yes, if they were infested like... well, like you, then I don't understand how they'd be moving to attack you." The huntress wets a rag and starts wiping at some of the slime and sludge. Unlike Rhese, she has a gentle touch.

She pauses and glances over her shoulder at Korran. The wolf starts patrolling a large circle around them. The young night elven woman leans back to her work even wiping some off the orc's face.

Greyseer
The orc coughs out a grunt-laugh. "He was no friend. Merely... an ally of an ally. I have not ever met the human."

Fireblade takes in another shuddering breath before continuing. "The others were... they were covered by these things, but... but not fully. I could see their faces, ridden with holes. I could see their chests, opened and filled with these purple maggots. Yet they still moved..."

Rhoelyn
Even Rhese stills at that, greening a bit at the idea. He makes a face of revulsion that Fireblade can no longer see, but the orc feels his shudder before he goes back to work without comment on his feelings.

Instead, he asks as he starts prodding at worm-ridden wounds, "The maggots... animated them? Like... like puppeted undead?"

Araatris
Nysse shudders. "That's... horrible."

"And someone had been captured by them? May we ask what their name was?" She rinses off the rag and continues.

The night elf glances at Rhese and motions at the wounds. She mouths, "Can you heal it?"

Rhoelyn
The druid winces and shrugs at her, mumbling quietly, "I'm not Rhoe, but I can try."

Greyseer
“I was given a name and a description. Someone named ‘Grave’. I... coughs ...I assumed it was a false name,” the orc replies. “I saw nothing of him when I arrived, but my ally said that others may be attempting a rescue as well. She seemed certain.”

He shifts slightly to respond to the Druid mending his back. “I do not believe they were dead. There is... a look about the dead. Even the Forsaken have it. You can see it behind their eyes—it is the lack of something. I have known many Forsaken, and all have displayed this...”

A series of coughs racks the orc’s body, and a last few worms wriggle their way out of deep recesses between his back muscles. “...soullessness. These things were not soulless. I could see the horror on their faces at what they were doing. I could see the pain as I released them unto death with my blade. They were aware.”

Araatris
"Grave..." Nysse pondered for a long moment. "Grave made it out. I'm suddenly grateful that he wasn't infested as well."

She nodded at Rhese, knowing he'd do what he could. "We're going to try and heal your back. Is there anyone you can contact to come and get you? We... we don't have any place you'd be welcome under current circumstances."

Rhoelyn
Her mate frowns but sighs softly and tosses away the last few grubs before he reapplies himself to healing the orc's wounds, his eyes taking a verdant glow as the magic quests through Fireblade's ravaged body. He chooses to stay silent and keep his attention on his work.

Greyseer
"If you can heal what these worms have done to my body, I can find my own way back. They have not consumed me, yet."

Araatris
The huntress glanced back at the pits. "We'll do what we can. Do you happen to know what's in the large pit here? We still haven't checked it or one of the smaller piles."

Nyssera sighed looking at the slime and grime across the orc and realized that stopping at the face was probably her best option. As a thought occurred to her, she asked further, "Can you make it on your own in your current condition? Are you familiar enough with the land? What about supplies?"

Rhoelyn
Rhese pauses in his effort to shoot Nysse a displeased look and wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. He frowns sternly at the still extremely wounded orc and then back at his mate before he pushes to his feet.

"Wait here," he informs the wounded stranger. "I need a word with my companion."

Rhese leaves the healing unfinished and grasps Nysse's wrist, tugging her away from Fireblade.

Araatris
Startled, Nysse stumbles to her feet and after her mate. She hisses, "R-rhese! What are you doing?"

The night elven woman tugs her wrist and glances back at the orc. Then she turns a scowl on Rhese. "You were still healing him. What's so urgent that you need to talk to me now? Korran would have warned me if we were in danger."

Rhoelyn
"Nysse." The druid releases her when they're out of earshot but still within view of the orc, his countenance stormy. He pulls back his bear-head helm and brushes a hand through his hair as he frowns over at the green figure, at first. But finally, he turns his attention to his wife.

"We can't just let some orc run around Kul'Tiras because he drops Grave's code name - known by enemies and allies alike - and happens to be in a pitiful state! He's probably lying. He was more likely a part of this insanity until he started to have doubts while a flesh-eating worm was consuming his eyes."

Rhese takes a deep breath, but he shakes his head when she starts to respond. "Let me finish. He's not dying, any more. He's weak and probably feels like overwarm rot, but his life isn't in imminent danger. We can tie him up until we're done exploring and then take him to the authorities in Boralus. Or at least to Grave and his people to deal with."

The druid frowns and folds his arms across his chest. "We're not giving him candy and a pat on the head and letting him skip off into Kul'Tiran lands to do who-knows-what to who-knows-who! He's Horde."

Araatris
The huntress puts her hands on her hips. "Not all Horde agreed with what happened to Teldrassil. We can't blame every single one that we see. And are you really going to make me a liar after I told him he wasn't our prisoner?"

She scowls and gestures widely toward the orc. "He had no way to know that we're connected to Grave. He was almost dead. Do you really think this is some elaborate setup for a trap?!"

Growling under her breath, she looks down and rummages in her pouch. "Tie him up... really! He's blind and full of holes. What is he going to do, but hurt!"

Rhoelyn
Rhese paces a few steps back and forth, running his hand through his hair, again. "And yet he's quite capable of making his way back to his own lands, alone and newly blind? No. Don't believe what he wants you to: that he's somehow nice and harmless because he was hurt."

Her mate pauses and shakes his head. "I won't make you go back on your word, but I won't let an orc wander around Kul'Tiras. We're at war. What if the house he endangers with his spying or his sabotage or his... anything, really!... what if that house is the one where Yami plays with his brother and sister while Rhoe and her boy nap in the next room?"

Araatris
Nysse gasps and stares at him wide-eyed. "Rhese! How could you even say something like that?!"

A stone falls from her nerveless fingers. She hurriedly leans over to pick it up. "I understand you're worried, but not everyone is out to murder us or hurt our family. We know some very good people that are-"

At Rhese's sour expression, she snaps, "I'm calling Grave. Get over there and heal him while I try to corroborate whether he's an ally." She activates the stone.

Greyseer
A voice, somewhat laden with irritation, comes through the whisper stone’s primary rune.

“—you’ll need to be wearing more than that, Aris. It’s bad diplomacy!” The man clears his throat before speaking again, this time more clearly and with less frustration. “This is Agent Grave. Verify yourself.”

Rhoelyn
Rhese huffs at Nysse and her hearthstone. He takes a few steps back, but he just stands there like a thundercloud, brow furrowed and tense arms crossed, as he waits and listens in on her conversation with Ardell.

Araatris
"This is Agent Ghost. Something unusual has come up, and I need to see if you know of an orc. We'll give you a full report later, but what you say will depend on how we handle the situation." The huntress explains, looking at the orc and not the man across from her.

"We found him in an injured state, permanently blinded. He said he was sent by an ally to rescue you. He calls himself Fireblade. Is the name familiar?" She keeps her tone even despite the frown on her lips.

Greyseer
“I tend not to keep the company of orcs, Agent Ghos—” A female’s voice, distant on the other side of the whisperstone, seems to interrupt him. The sounds of conversation get muffled, as if Ardell were holding his hand over his own rune while responding to the woman. After a moment, things become clear again. “‘Fireblade’ you say? If he’s the one Aris has heard of, he may be familiar, yes. I’ll need you to get a little more information. First, we’ll need his first name. ‘Fireblade’ is generic enough and used by many of the Burning Blade clan, both past and present. Second, have him describe his ally.”

Araatris
"Of course." Nysse strides over to the orc and crouches. "Fireblade, we need a bit more information from you. Could you tell us your first name and describe the ally that sent you here?"

Rhoelyn
Rhese follows, a silent and protective silver shadow.

Greyseer
The orc, having pushed himself into a sitting position, turns his eyeless face towards Nysse’s voice. He frowns and remains silent for a few moments before replying. “You have shown me honor, Nyssera. I will return it in kind. My name is Garikhan Fireblade, formerly of the Burning Blade clan. The ally who sent me here is a draenei, one recently touched by the Light. She is...an aggressive sort, but a strong fighter. A paladin of her faith. She goes by the name of Rephaia.”

He turns away again, facing towards the horizon with a slight frown.

Araatris
Nysse bows her head. "Thank you. Pardon me for a moment longer." She straightens and heads back off to the side.

"Did you get that, Grave? His full name is Garikhan Fireblade and the ally was a draenei paladin named Rephaia, recently touched by the Light. Is he talking about Agent Starlight?" She glances at Rhese, checking on him.

Greyseer
Ardell’s voice comes back through the rune with little hesitation. “Confirmed. He knows Agent Starlight.” There is a moment of silence and the sound of rustling pages before the man speaks again. “Garikhan Fireblade, former warrior of the Burning Blade clan. A member of Thrall’s personal bodyguard during his position as warchief, but left sometime after the war in Northrend. He has recently been seen fighting in support of the camp of demon hunters who occupy the Forest Song ruins in Ashenvale, and that’s likely where he met Rephaia. Also, by the way Agent Watchdog is leaning over to listen in on this conversation, I’d say that she’s met him, too.”

Araatris
The huntress nods to no one in particular. "Is there anything else we should know? Oh! After we finish our task here, do we have permission to give him assistance? We've stabilized his injuries, but..."

She gives the blind orc a worried look. "I don't know if he'd accept help, but he's still in rough shape and sightless."

Rhoelyn
Rhese growls out, "Nysse..."

As his wife tries to give him an innocent look, the druid snaps at the stone. "Don't concern yourself about it, Grave. If the orc is somebody's cousin's friend of a friend, then I'll make sure he gets delivered safely back out of Alliance lands once we're done, here.“

He raises his brows at his mate as he says, "Can we get back to it, now? Nysse will bring you the report once we finish interrogating him and investigating the rest of the site."

Greyseer
"Sightless? What--" Ardell sighs audibly. "Nevermind, I'll expect to see an explanation in your report. And, you are correct, Agent Ghost. From what we know, he's unlikely to accept help. He can be angry, prideful, and stubborn. A rough combination to work with. Leave him to his own resources. I'll send someone more familiar to him just in case. Someone...more experienced with his condition."

Araatris
The huntress presses her lips together and stares evenly at Rhese. "Then we'll leave him here. It doesn't seem highly trafficked by Alliance, so it should be safe enough if he stays in the area. I doubt he'll stay too close to the site though. I sure wouldn't, but that'll be in our report. Call us if you need to follow up. Agent Ghost, signing out."

When the stone goes dark, she growls at Rhese. "I confirmed it. He's not some random orc out to murder our family. He's an ally and an injured one at that. Now is there anything more you can do to heal him to make sure he has the best chance to make it out of here?"

The ghost wolf, Korran, ignores them all and continues patrolling in a large circle around them. He avoids the worms and pits, but at the same time keeps an eye on them as he passes. While alert and wary,  he doesn't seemed alarmed.

Rhoelyn
"An ally." Rhese mutters it with something less than conviction, but he brushes a hand through his hair and looks over at the green-skinned stranger. He isn't happy, but nor is he unreasonable. The druid just shoots Nysse a look that promises later conversations and turns to walk back over to Fireblade and crouch at his side.

"I'll finish healing you," he tells the orc. "Then you're going to wait here. Grave is sending over someone you know to see that you get back where you belong."

Thus announced, he rests a hand on one beefy yellow-green shoulder and calls life magic through the contact.

Greyseer
"I know you do not trust me, elf. You have no reason to," the orc begins in a much lower voice as Rhese resumes his healing. "But I have fought alongside your kind for many years. I considered Ashenvale my adopted home. While I never looked upon Teldrassil, I will avenge its loss alongside you. The Horde that I fought for..."

The warrior's eyeless gaze turns away, towards the general direction of one of the unexplored piles. "My blade has taken far more of my kind over the past few years than yours. And, while I wish it were not so, I believe it will continue along this path for a while, yet."

Araatris
Off to the side, Nysse rubs her face and sighs. Looking up at the sky and murmuring something to herself. Korran pauses by her, and she crouches for a moment, silently conversing with him.

Rhoelyn
The druid sighs at his patient. "Do you know how many people who wear the colors of the Horde could say they've fought alongside me and my people over the past few years? The list isn't short. And yet, how many of those same people attacked our barely-protected city and watched as our people were burned?"

He pauses in his work to look at the other man for a moment, his fists clenching. "That list is just as long."

But then he shakes his head and opens his hands, setting back to healing. His voice is low and hard. "You're very right, Garikhan Fireblade. I have no reason to trust you. And people who I had every reason to trust have betrayed me and mine too recently for me to be interested in trying.

"So I'll do as Grave and Nysse have asked. And so will you. Stay and wait for Grave's contact. I won't have you skulking around Kul'Tiras un... escorted. Let's call it a request for your own safety from the person who saved you from dying due to worm holes."

Greyseer
The orc grunts a response, but nods. After a moment, he speaks again. "There is a cave nearby, to the east. Not far. It faces the ocean. Escort me there when we are done here. If the one being sent is the one I suspect... he will have no trouble finding me."

Rhoelyn
"Fine." Rhese says simply before glancing momentarily over at Nysse and tilting his chin to call her over. He raises his voice a bit. "This won't take much longer. If you have any more you can to tell us about what's going on here before we finish exploring, do it now."

Greyseer
"By now, you likely know more than I do, elf. I have been trapped here for the past few days, being slowly consumed by the mass of things beneath which you found me. I can still smell them..." The aging orc looks around, as if his eyes still worked. He frowns and his brow furrows, and he tilts his head, listening to something.

"The creature that was here before, the larger one in the pit. How did you defeat it?"

Rhoelyn
The druid pauses in his work to blink amber eyes at Garikhan. "Creature in the pit? We ne-"

Araatris
Nysse and Korran spin in unison, alarmed. "Rot! Fireblade, what do you know about it?" They stare at the pit warily. "Nothing... Nothing has come out of the big pit, but there was something moving. We were going to check it out after we finished the smaller piles."

Greyseer
The orc frowns, his large lips revealing more of his worn tusks. He gets to his feet and turns his face towards where the large pit is located. “It rose from it as the others attacked me. It was the thing that drowned me in the worms—the thing that I assumed had begun to infest the others that had been here before me. It looked... it was like a large Faceless One, but its flesh was not solid. It was... made of the things... the smaller things. I remember it, because I can still see it in my memory. It was one of the last things my eyes took in.”

Garikhan takes a side step in the general direction of one of the other piles, slightly off. He does not face away from the pit, however. His feet step on a mass of the wriggling creatures, and he slips. Though he is wobbly without his vision, he does not fall. His expression is one of determination warring to overcome fear—to overcome horror. “The worms. They are moving. I can feel them. They are moving, aren’t they?”

All around him, all around everyone, in fact, the worms are slithering, wriggling. Initially, they had seemed to be moving away, to take shelter under the other piles, perhaps. Now, however, the truth becomes apparent: they’ve been moving towards the pit...

Rhoelyn
Rhese straightens with the orc, wincing as he looks around. "They're... definitely moving. Nysse?"

He beckons her over. "Stay close. And maybe get some of those goblin-made arrows ready?"

Araatris
She nods and hurries to him with Korran at her heels. "Fire does seem like the best option. Korran, help Fireblade."

As the huntress draws her bow and reaches for an arrow, the wolf silently acknowledges her command. The great white wolf brushes up against Garik's side. He's not as large as a riding worg, but is large enough to provide support and guidance without the orc leaning over.

Greyseer
A creature of nightmare rises up from the pit itself, an undulating, shapeless mass of writhing worms and sticky ooze. The thing almost glows with an unnatural aura, the very thing that gives the smaller slivers their silvery shimmer. It reshapes itself almost at will, becoming humanoid, then beast-like, then entirely unrecognizable, all within a matter of breaths. It finally coalesces into something that vaguely resembles one of the ancient Faceless Ones in shape—if those horrors could truly be said to have a shape. The thing’s...head? ...turns to face the three intruders. A gap appears along the lower portion of what may have been a face, a parting of the worms that reveals a black maw of infinite, slimy darkness. Inside, the things writhe in eager anticipation of what’s to come.

The realization comes alongside the shiver of horror that settles over the site: the beast is smiling...

Rhoelyn
"C-Cenarius' Beard!" Rhese’s eyes widen, and he growls quietly. "This... is not a foe I want to bite."

Araatris
Nysse fires her explosive arrow and without waiting to see if it hits, spins around. "Move it! We need to get to safer ground to fight. This is its place."

She grasps Rhese's hand and starts tugging towards the woods. "Cover! Fireblade, ride Korran. He can hold your weight."

The wolf enlarges in response to her and becomes a large worg-sized wolf nearly as tall as him. Korran nudges urgently against the orc. Then he leans down to make it easier for Garik to mount.

Greyseer
The orc lunges for one of the nearby piles, pulling aside the tarp with a sloppy tug. Beneath it lies a pile of weaponry. One of the items, larger than the others and far more well-kept, is a wicked single-edged curved sword. Garikhan feels for its blade before instinctively tightening his fist around the handle. He then turn turns to the wolf and wraps his arms around the spirit beast’s thick neck. He swings himself onto its back, then calls out with a harsh bellow. “We cannot fight this! You will end up as I and the others! We must run from here!”

Rhoelyn
"You're joking!" the druid balks as the explosion of her missile sounds behind them oddly muffled, but he resists only lightly, letting Nysse tug him toward the trees. "We can't leave that monster here to... what's it even doing here? We don't have any answers. And we need to destroy that thing and its little grubs. Who knows what they're doing to the land."

Araatris
The huntress huffs. "I don't disagree, but we need to come back with reinforcements. I'm starting to think he's right... this is too big. What if it manages to control one of us? This was a recon mission!"

Starting to run, she risks a glances over her shoulder right before they enter the woods.

Greyseer
"Your mate is right, elf!" Garikhan shouts as he clings to the spirit wolf. "You saved my life, now let my suggestion save yours!"

Rhoelyn
With a little frustrated growl, the druid relents. When he keeps pace with her, Nysse releases her grip on him, and he folds his form into the sleek, silver cat to dash along at her side.

Araatris
She veers to the side. "We need to make sure not to lead it to any populated areas. We don't know how far it'll follow us!"

The huntress looks about scanning the woods, then checks again for the monster behind them. "Rhese! Find us some place defensible to hide once we're a good distance away. Preferably something that has multiple exits so we can get out... in case

Greyseer
As Nysse looks back, she notices that the creature is not following. It still sits there, hovering over the pit on a column of undulating worms, staring at them with its disquieting smile, but it does not move to pursue...

Rhoelyn
The saber darts up a tree to scout the forest around them. His glowing eyes flick back toward the pit, and they narrow.

It takes only a stray thought for his form to revert, and he calls down from the bough, "Hold on. It's not chasing us."

The druid stills, taking the time to more carefully sift his senses and scan the land around and behind them.

Araatris
Skidding to a stop, the huntress grips her bow, looking around warily. "But why. It seems like it's smiling... like it has a plan. I don't like this at all. Fireblade, how are you holding up?"

Greyseer
"I am well." The orc grunts a response in the affirmative. He then turns his head back towards where they had just been, furrowing his brow and leaning his head this way and that. Listening. "I do not know if it cannot move from its pit... or if it will not move from its pit."

Rhoelyn
"Whichever it is, let's take advantage," Rhese calls down, swinging lithely from the high branch to a lower one and crouching there to lower his voice while keeping the dig site vaguely in view.

"How many of those arrows are you carrying, my lovely? I'm not sure if one did anything, but a number of them...?"

Araatris
Nysse frowns. "Maybe three more. They take up too much space to carry too many. You want me to fire them all in succession? I'll have to move closer to do that. There's no way I can reach from here."

Her gaze assesses the distance and the angle, trying to determine the best place to fire from. "There's no guarantee that it doesn't have something else its planning. I don't want to stay here for long. I just feel that it's... not a good idea. So if we do this, it's fire and go. We can come back with others to confirm its status later."

Rhoelyn
The druid crouches on the tree bough, watching her thoughtfully, and then he wrinkles his nose and sighs. "We can try to... increase the firepower if I appeal to the owlkin. The moonfire seemed relatively effective, so a focused starfall in concert with your arrows might be able to do it in."

After one last glance over at the creature, he puts a hand on the wood and hops to the ground. "Let's try. I don't like just running away from this."

His glance takes in Garikhan as well, not that the blind orc can tell.

Araatris
"Maybe... I'm still a little worried about staying. We don't know if it can do something even if it's not moving. I'm open to trying it, but if that doesn't do it then we still need to leave. Agreed?" She pulls out the three arrows.

"I don't want our family needing to worry about us." She adds that last part grimly, thinking of Rhoelyn and the children back in Boralus.

Rhoelyn
Rhese nods immediately. "Agreed. If that doesn't work, we're out of tricks to use against that thing. I'm really, really not going in there to try to bite or claw any part of that." He rests his fingers against Nysse's arm lightly then blinks at his bare hand.

"Oh, rot. I forgot my gloves, too."

Araatris
Without thinking, the huntress offers, "I know where you left them. Since they were a gift, do you want me to-?"

At Rhese's hand wrapping around her arm with a worried frown, she cut him off. "Yes, you're right. Bad idea. Of course. Maybe your..." She shakes her head. "I'm getting distracted."

"There's a tree near the edge of the woods that should have a good view. We head up there, fire, then head back to Fireblade and Korran."

Rhoelyn
Her husband pulls her close and presses a quick kiss to her temple. "Breathe, dalah surfal," he says softly. "We'll keep our distance, blow the nasty to harmless stardust, and get away from all of this. You still have the jar of worms?"

Araatris
Nyssera nods and takes a couple of deep breathes. "Yes, but why? I don't think it's going to help us." She gestures to her backpack.

Rhoelyn
"Because after we blow this monstrosity to stardust, we're going to need something to take back to Ardell to prove what we saw," he tells her with a little grin and a cocky wink. Rhese shoots a quick, dark smirk at Garikhan, but it's not as hateful as it once was. "Since you forbade me from taking the orc back with us in chains, I guess a jar of worms will do as evidence."

He brushes a hair back from Nysse's temple before he steps back and puts on a more business-like face. "Now, let's get to the tree you saw. Orc, you get to stay here and wait. Objections?"

Greyseer
Garikhan slides off the spirit Wolf and lands on the ground, his stance a little wobbly due to his lack of vision. "None," he says as he ties his blade to his hip with what remains of his sash.

Araatris
Nysse nods. "Then let's go." The huntress hurries towards the tree. When she reaches it, she clambers up onto a limb with a good view of the pit. She does her best to ignore the gloves, visible in the distance, as she lines up her first shot.

Rhoelyn
The druid follows at his mate's side, swinging up onto a bough slightly higher and off beside hers. He kneels, there, the bark rough beneath his fingers as he closes his eyes in concentration and communion.

Magic, more of the white of stars and the blue of arcane than his usual life-rich green, gathers in the air around him and slides through him, turning his body slowly glimmering and bright as if the sheen of his shoulder-length silver hair infected all of the rest of him. He opens his eyes, no longer amber but the cold ice-white of the stars, and straightens.

Randomly, Rhese chuckles and mutters, squirming. "Why does this form always tickle? And the owlkin wonders why I don't use his power more often... "

He sighs and looks over at his mate. "I'm ready. What's the worm beast doing? Are we clear to try this?"

Araatris
"It's not moving. We're clear." She draws the arrow back, fighting a small smile despite the situation. "It you're not too distracted by the tickle... ready on my mark."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

Rhoelyn
As she counts, the druid raises his arms to the clouds, lifting his face to match as his quicksilver eyes go distant, questing through the sky for the motes of power that he can call down on his enemy. The spell takes just enough time to ready that Nysse's first arrow is whistling through the air when the glimmering balls of arcane energy shimmer into existence over the pit and the worm-creature grinning within it. They're little more than pinpricks of sparkling silver power at first, but they sizzle and grow for half of a heartbeat until the moment that the exploding arrows buries itself into the monstrosity, two more right behind it in quick succession.

As Nysse's barbs find their home, Rhese grasps his fists closed, and the stars of power rain down over the pit, joining her destructive power with his.

Greyseer
The creature of writhing worms is struck dead center; and, in a cascade of flashing lights and noise, it explodes. Tiny slivers of purple-silvery flesh are tossed outwards in a rain of slimy critters. The larger shape itself collapses, its integrity breaking apart. Clusters of the creatures fall in huge clumps back down into the larger pit and completely out of view.

The physical remains scattered above the pit seem to smolder on the ground for a few moments, wisps of smoke rising up from charred hunks of unnatural flesh.

...then they begin to move again, back towards the pit.

Araatris
Nysse's eyes widen. "Rhese, let's go! I don't think it's dead!"

The huntress reaches up and pats his leg, then hops down from the tree. She only waits for him for a brief second before heading towards Korran and the orc.

Rhoelyn
The druid frowns, the stars falling away from his form as he releases the owlkin's power and watches Nysse drop to the ground. He starts to crouch to leap down after her, but he pauses and glances back out at the regathering mass. The center is still blown apart to some extent or another.

Making a snap decision, he says to his mate, "I'll be right behind you."

Instead of leaping down, he leaps out, his form shifting into the feathered, fast Raven. Stubborn as always, Rhese makes a quick, wide, high swing around the pit in order to try to see what's at its heart.

Greyseer
Deep within the pit can be seen a small, standing shape. With a flick of its arms, it is quickly consumed once again by the worms, revealing few details to the bird's eyes. What was seen, however, appears humanoid...

Rhoelyn
The detail carefully absorbed, the druid dives down and snags his slightly gooey gloves before he wings back to Nysse.

She dashes up to Garikhan and Korran, tucking her bow into its harness on her back, and her mate shifts before he reaches the ground. He lands with a shuush of skittering leaves and grass as his boots skid, catching himself with a hand to the hilly forest floor.

Araatris
Sighing in exasperation, Nysse looked over his shoulder. "Scout ahead, Rhese. We need someplace safe before we split up."

"Fireblade, get back on Korran. The creature broke apart, but it's definitely not down. I'd rather not stick around to see what happens." Korran knelt ready as she spoke, responding to her unspoken command.

Greyseer
The orc nods and feels his way onto the creature's back once more.

Rhoelyn
Rhese nods to his mate's order, quiet and thoughtful and a bit grim, he shoves his bear paw gloves back on his hands before he shifts back into the sleek, silver form of the saber and dashes off into the trees to scout in the direction of fresher sea air and no nasty worms, heading away from the pit.

Araatris
The huntress follows Rhese, Korran and Fireblade at her side. They circle around wide until they reach a cliff and find a rough path down. The huntress points out the cave ahead.

"There's a cave ahead. If it's empty, then it'll be a good place to rest. We can update Grave and if you're willing to stay, we can let him know to pass on where you are, Fireblade." The huntress smiles slightly despite the fact he can't see her.

Rhoelyn
Rhese sidles up to her side, rubbing against her leg as he watches the orc with luminous feline eyes. He looks relaxed, but his ears are perked and his nose twitches.

Greyseer
“If it is the one I know, then it is empty. The one he is likely sending will find me there.” The orc sits upright in the saddle, his face in an expression of strain as he tries to hear his surroundings.

Araatris
"Is there anything unique about the area so we can confirm?" Nysse reaches up and rests one hand on Korran and the other on Rhese.

Korran stops at the entrance to the cave, giving her a moment to look in. "Rhese, did you see anything in it?"

Greyseer
To the senses of the Druid, the cave smells familiar. Very much like what the orc smells like beneath the layer of slime that still coats him.

Rhoelyn
The cat stalks forward toward the opening, his tail twitching with wary energy. He pauses and a low growl rumbles through him as he glances back at Garikhan.

After a short pause, he shifts and addresses his mate while keeping his gaze on their green companion, resting a hand on his dagger hilt. "It's safe enough. Since it smells, safe to say he's been here before."

Araatris
His mate shoots him a warning look. "Be polite. We don't smell like roses after being on the road either."

She leads the wolf into the cave. "This is likely your cave, Fireblade. Do you need any supplies to hold you over until the other comes to meet you?"

Greyseer
The orc slides off the wolf and stumbles his way into the cave. He places his hands on the walls and walks his way in before sitting in the center, cross legged. His blade is placed across his lap, and he takes a deep breath.

“No,” he replies. “I will be found here soon enough.”

Rhoelyn
"Then let's get back to Grave, lovely." Rhese shifts restlessly, folding his arms across his chest. He frowns back up the hill behind the cave, toward the forest, before he looks out over the blue-grey water. "We need to get him what we have right away, I think."

Araatris
Nysse nods. “Be safe, Fireblade. I hope we can meet again someday." The huntress sketches a quick bow.

She turns to her mate. "You're right. We shouldn’t delay. Shall we go?" She rests a light hand on his arm.

Rhoelyn
The druid rests his hand over hers gently even though he snorts and mutters, "He can't see you bow, Nysse."

But he doesn't leave her much time for a response, instead just continuing more loudly, "Yeah. Let's move."

Rhese's form folds into the silver-furred saber, and he dashes back up the rocky side of the cave toward the hilled forest. They have a long jog ahead of them back to the cliffside they climbed up.

Araatris
Nysse glances back once more before turning and following Rhese. She exits the cave. "Just because he can't see me it doesn't mean that I shouldn't be respectful. He's been very polite and straightforward with us..." Her voice goes out of range from the orc.