Tempting Fate

There had better be a -damn- good reason, Westel, a -damn- good reason.”

 June 9, 2013   Chapter 7;  Revolution

The damned fool walked right into the web I’ve been weaving so carefully for others; without the slightest care in the world, without fear of reprisal. I warned him, I warned his charge, and they would not listen. Nay they ignored me in spite of all that I’ve done, in spite of all I am capable, and in spite of all I must do. He has no inkling of control, or respect for those infinitely his greater in designs beyond comprehension of mere soldiers and men. Incapable of thinking beyond simplicity and petty self-indulgance. I granted a reprieve, I bit my lip. I risked compromising an entire month’s operation and foothold over this excuse of a ranger, and it only proved a mistake.

He shared in company with a Tauren, a rebellious dissident, no less. The three of them engaged in open, blatant, unfiltered discussion of bounties upon the Kor’Kron legionaires. What foolishness!? How could I do any less than excersize what I was meant to hold? To demonstrate my unfettering loyalties to the Horde as it is now, to this barbaric collection of monsters? I cried out for the Kor’Kron.  I raised my blade, I demanded they surrender. Westel stared me down, Westlynn confronted me before all the onlookers, and dared to make motion of escape. I brought righteous steel down upon them, only to be assailed by a wolf of the Shu’halo’s charge. They demonstrated the very reason I projected Westel’s doom. They proved to me that not one amongst them is fit to aid me, that not one amongst them understands. Astoreth wonders why I do not seek aid, because all others would hinder me, they would fall to pettiness and ill tempers, none are fit to play the game of intrigue, they are but pawns to move upon this board and be cast aside when no longer fruitful.

Through some intervention of the gods, the crowd of onlookers provided them a reprieve, the Kor’Kron legionaires swallowed up in their ramblings and almost convient ignorance of martial law. I imagine by now all of them are dead or licking wounds, seems the only realistic outcome. In the wake of these affairs, I opened a transdimensional rift at Westlynn’s feet, nearly consuming her and the Shu’halo within, if not for the rather wide and almost omnipotent hand of another, that I still fail to grasp managed to go beyond the agents of the Horde stalking the streets. Alas, circumstantial occurances. I vanished and assumed the face of Orpheus, confronting the two of them upon the arid plains of Durotar where they had fled. I have names, affiliations, and no scarce amount of rage.

“I do not seek to persecute you, Firewing, but you continue to step upon carefully laid plans, and ignore my warnings! You continue to throw yourself before my judgement and unforgiving nature.” Anetho fumed, staring daggers at the ranger, thinking intently on the topic of reducing this wild card to a cinder, where there were no witnesses, and no one to intervene. “I’ve warned you time, and time again! Mark me! If you so much as gaze in the direction of present events, I will utilize every pathstalker, assassin, and agent of darkness to snuff out what life you have!” There was a pause as the winds died down with his words. “…Because that would win you Astoreth’s heart. That would win you Kuvasei’s love.” Anetho narrowed his eyes, rage threatened to overtake him once more. The thought of raining righteous fire down upon this cretin only looking more and more as if glistening gold. “This isn’t about me! It’s about -you-!” He snarled, the desert winds claiming dust and sand kicking them up once again.

If the agents of the Horde do not end him, if fate does not end him, if his wife can’t bury the dagger in his back as I know she will. Then I will handle it myself. No longer can I tolerate set backs, no longer can I tolerate impulsive imbeciles, or craven idiots treading upon the carefully laid foundation of an uprising meant to shake this traitorous Warchief from his throne and into a sea of bloodthirsty and vengeful masses to lay upon him a tribute of daggers and swords. I will sacrifice a family numbering in tens, to save a nation harboring thousands. My feelings on the matter are irrelevant. Time grows short, and I’ve still so much more to do. I can’t waste time worrying over fools.

Selanda… Are you hungry?”

 

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~ by anethodawnpride on June 10, 2013.

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