Faking Fate

“Convince one man they’ve a destiny beholden to them and they will furiously push through every trial without fear, confront armies in their lonesome, and press beyond physical limitations because the Gods owe them something. Convince a hundred men they’ve a destiny awaiting them and you have the strength of a nation in your pocket, comprised of martyrs that only spur the remainder forth.”

Once more the musings of fate traverse the postal services misdirecting the masses and stirring up dissident sympathy. I’ve been asked to investigate the matter by both the Magistrate and SI:7. I’ve arranged the same explanation to both; clearly someone thinks to stand at the post of an ancient Guardian akin to the Tirisfal council as though Medivh. An influential individual manipulating world events on paper with eyes everywhere that he might put a personal flare upon each, striking them with purpose.

They’ve no idea how long ago I prepared these missives in preparation of this day, to how many I’ve entrusted my work to, nor any inkling of just how far my efforts stretch to draw every possible blade into it’s appropriate hand and place… and remove all the inconsequential losses. The wild cards, the indecisives, the rabble-rousers, and the fools.

“Are you prepared to go all the way with this, Anetho?” There was a pause between the two as the magister thought upon the question pressed against him for the second time in the span of a week. “Yes. Yes I am prepared to go all the way… I’ve already driven myself from everyone’s good graces. My lovers hate me, my friends abandon me, my colleagues distrust me… There is no going back.” The cowled figure drew Anetho into a gentle embrace from behind. “…No one else could go to such lenghs as you for those they do not know… You’ve a love so strong that it can be confused for hate…” He felt lips pulls at his ear and he shrugged the hooded individual off. “….Or perhaps I’ve no love left to harbor.”

She returned to Orgrimmar, daring to venture immediately behind me. Those who walk amongst shadow aren’t very hard to discern however; especially those of poor technique. With but simply incantation I see them beyond eyes. A brazen and impetuous child, whom has only served to drive me to my last feeble shred of patience. She -challenged- me, as if a defiant child looking to see what she might get away with. I informed her in plain terms, if I should see her face again everyone she knows and cares for that I’d acquired names for will be met with all manner of assassin. The entirity of this ‘Burning Tusk Tribe’ I’ve set my sources to learn more of, will indeed burn. In the time spent hunting them, she will learn the foolishness of her ways, as will those whom associated with her. She, Westel, and all the rest will suffer agonizing deaths for undermining the path of a nation. The process will be slow, deliberate, and deserved. Then I will hurl them from the tallest tower, noose bound at their neck, that they might strangle over the realm they thought to play over and claim as if their own. This is Hellscream’s law. This is -my- law. To combat monsters, I must be willing to become the monster.

I will go to m’lady tonight. I will seek her counsel if only once more. This, I fear, will determine just how well I may fake my own fate.

This will determine her destiny.


~ by anethodawnpride on June 11, 2013.

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