Red herring takes Black knight.

It's happy hour, the alcohol is flowing. It's time to pull up a tankard of ale, bottle of wine for the ladies and regail tales of heroism and grandeur.

Topic/Postby Bootle » 06 Dec 2010, 01:21

Red herring takes Black knight.

The tremors were getting worse. The doomsayers were becoming a frequent sight in the city streets and the populace were growing increasingly more restless by the hour. Suspicion was heavily aimed at the Twilight, who were only too eager to use the opportunity to swell their ranks. But was it a case of cruel opportunism, or did they have a hand in the worrying events yet to come? At the time, nothing was certain. All avenues had to be explored, and all leads had to be followed. Even if the Twilight were to blame, how were they causing the tremors? Nobody could give those answers. They had to be found.

One such theory rested in a place far too dangerous and close to home to ignore. Malygos himself sought to use the magical ley lines as a catastrophic weapon. These lines exist in a weblike structure througout Azeroth, undetectable to all but the most astute of the magically inclined. However, worryingly close to the Kingdom of Stormwind, there is a Nexus where these ley lines converge. A place where reality itself is warped. A place where someone thought it would be wise to build a tower.

The ivory spires of Karazhan are no stranger to adventurers and looters, due to the presence of the Burning Legion some years past. The strange spectral beings long since laid to rest, and the demonic guardians long since vanquished... The tower has long since stayed silent, picked to the bone of all valuables and trinkets by glory-hungry "heroes". Nobody would pay any attention to that tower anymore. A tower resting upon a nexus of horrifying potential disaster.

Bootenstein Manacog was tasked by the Stormwind Command Centre to inspect the possibility of this being the centre of Twilight mischief. After hearing from the huntress Voca that Kyralas had been seeing visions of oncoming disaster, he sought counsel from the old Shaman. Whilst his visions had no correlation with any such tower, he himself thought it best to investigate Karazhan alongside Bootle, as there might be clues, or knowledge hidden in the vast libraries that could give insight to the worldly goings on.

---

The eerieness of the deserted tower was almost magnificent to behold. No longer did spectres dance in the ballroom, being waited upon by a decrepid, blind manservant, yet Bootle swore he could still see them frolic in the corner of his eye. The applause of the opera hall was silent, yet the crowd was roaring on another plane of existence. The tower would never be truly silent, not whilst it still stands.

Crunching the bones of demons long since decomposed underfoot, the duo noted that, thankfully, there was no trace of Twilight activity thus far. Nor was there anything that could be causing the tremors amongst the ruins. It was a surprise, however, when they discovered a room still populated.

The last resident of the tower paced back and forth with an ethereal presence. Ethereal as in, he was a ghost. Or a shadow of his former self. If one could call it even that.

A shadow with an obsession for Chess. It had been too long since he last played. And far, far too long before he saw others battle wits against eachother for his amusement.

---

On the road through Darkshire, after leaving the tower none the wiser as to the cause of the tremors, the duo noted that there is still fun to be had in the Ivory tower. But it could wait until the troubles of Azeroth came to it's inevitable conclusion.


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Bootle
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