(2022-12-26) Shadows and Lines

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	Syarra Sunstrike, adventuring alone in Hellfire Peninsula, is surprised by one of her Crimson colleagues. They consider mutual loyalties and the bounds of trust.
Rating:	T for Teen

Syarra Sunstrike is at the Pools of Aggonar in Hellfire Peninsula, cutting a swathe through the demons there alone. At least, under the impression she is alone.

Syarra reaches the foot of the ramp that leads to the dais of Arazzius the Cruel and kills the shivarra that guard it. She ventures cautiously up the ramp to see what awaits her at the top.

What awaits her is, you know: Arazzius the Cruel.

Syarra looks up at the really quite enormous demon and shrugs.

Syarra summons a ghoul and throws the both of them at Arazzius the Cruel, who sees her ghoul and raises her two infernals.

Kaszimir, who is now loitering in the deep shadows of the neighboring hillside’s crags, arches his brow.

This is going Very Badly for Syarra. Her ghoul crumbles to dust and she staggers beneath another of the eredar’s attacks and desperately summons a gargoyle.

Suddenly, a black falcon streaks in from the south and makes viciously for the eredar warlock’s eyes; the bird is followed by a quick flurry of arrows. Syarra and the gargoyle renew their onslaught, and in moments the eredar is dead.

Kaszimir moves out from between the columns at the edge of the platform, and eyes Syarra up and down.

Syarra notices the flying creature that isn't a gargoyle. Then she notices the Farstrider with it.

[Syarra]: Kas. I didn't see… I guess you were following me?

Kaszimir shrugs a shoulder, mildly. "I was nn. Nearby."

Kaszimir may or may not have been nearby by pure coincidence.

[Syarra]: Thank you. *Syarra looks over at the dead demon.* For the backup.

Kaszimir nods once.

[Kaszimir]: It did not seem. Wise, especially. Alone.

[Syarra]: I would have made it. I'm durable. More can heal back, than before.

[Kaszimir]: Durable. Not — invincible.

Kaszimir 's tone is dryly amused.

[Syarra]: Not invincible, no. *Syarra smiles faintly, then turns back toward the path of demons.* But… very durable.

[Kaszimir]: Yes. I have seen.

[Kaszimir]: I just thought — *he pauses* — you might want a hand. *He gives the barest twitch of a smile at his own pun.*

Syarra nods, acknowledging the pun.

[Kaszimir]: If you prefer. To work alone…?

Kaszimir shrugs again.

Syarra pauses and looks back at him. "There was a thing I meant to mention, when I saw you next."

Kaszimir raises his eyebrow again, inquiringly.

[Syarra]: I do not always work alone. You might have seen… a human, if you've been following me. A death knight.

[Kaszimir]: Yes.

[Syarra]: He is not a security risk, but we are… *she frowns, thinking how to put it.* He is living with me, in the Scryer's Tier. When we're there.

Kaszimir nods once. "Yes."

[Syarra]: So you understand.

Kaszimir holds up his hand in a clear gesture to ask for her patience, as he considers his words.

[Kaszimir]: First — I will say. As you have seen. I do not — speak. Easily.

[Kaszimir]: But.

[Kaszimir]: I am loyal to — Geth. And the C-Coterie. Horde? Alliance?

Kaszimir shrugs again.

[Kaszimir]: I have. Known humans. Many. I have no — quarrel.

[Kaszimir]: Scourge? Yes. Humans? *He shrugs.*

[Syarra]: We fought alongside them. Humans, I mean. *She does not point out that she fought alongside the others, too.*

Kaszimir nods.

[Kaszimir]: Three wars. I spent — I went — south. For a time.

Syarra nods, waiting patiently in case there is more.

Kaszimir regards her neutrally. There is no more.

Syarra nods again. "I'm loyal to the Ebon Blade, and him, specifically. Roper. But I am also loyal to Quel'Thalas, and to the Crimson Coterie."

Kaszimir nods again. "Quel'Thalas. And the — Crimson. Yes."

They reach the road and Syarra turns toward Zangarmarsh. Kas follows wordlessly.

[Syarra]: As for Horde and Alliance, Quel'Thalas always seemed more important. To me.

[Kaszimir]: The Ebon Blade… *He shrugs and narrows his eye at her. It doesn't seem like an actual judgment so much as a pantomime of potential judgment.*

[Syarra]: You doubt our intentions.

[Kaszimir]: Horde is new. Not who we are. Or were. We are que– sin'dorei. Quel'Thalas.

[Kaszimir]: The Ebon Blade is — also new. And you came from — dark places. Should you expect trust, right away?

[Syarra]: Am I still? To you? A sin’dorei?

[Kaszimir]: A dead sin'dorei is still a sin'dorei.

Syarra nods.

The journey continues in mutual silence.

They traverse the narrow pass into the marsh and find themselves in the Cenarion Expedition’s encampment.

[Syarra]: As for asking for trust — it is not about expecting trust immediately. Only, you will never receive something you do not ask for.

[Kaszimir]: True. Fair. You will not get it if you — do not earn it, also.

[Kaszimir]: You may ask. Whether it will be given…

Kaszimir shrugs again. Lots of shrugging, this guy.

[Syarra]: I plan to earn it. But. *She glances over at a nearby wanted poster.* I am a monster. I do not want that to surprise anyone.

Kaszimir tilts his head.

[Kaszimir]: Define.

[Syarra]: I will never stop fighting. Killing. *She looks back at him.* I can't. Not without losing my mind. He did that to us.

Kaszimir nods thoughtfully.

Syarra heads south out of the camp, in pursuit of the corrupt Lost Ones. Kas, once again, just comes along without question or comment.

[Kaszimir]: We live. In a world with call for that. There is ….

The pause is longer this time. At length he makes a gesture of frustration and shakes his head.

[Syarra]: That's good. *Syarra catches herself, and shakes her head.* Not good for the world. But good for me. It will be better when we go to Northrend, when there's open war.

[Kaszimir]: There has been open war. For a while. There, here…

[Kaszimir]: Always a war somewhere.

[Syarra]: I was not invited to the Black Temple. *Syarra shrugs.* Still earning trust, I assume.

Meanwhile, many efficient Umbrafen murders are taking place.

Kaszimir shrugs back at her and makes a gesture that maybe Geth would understand but Syarra probably does not.

[Syarra]: But also… I enjoy it. I will always enjoy it. And that may bother people.

Umbrafen Seer attempts to run away in fear!

[Syarra]: Hence… monster.

Kaszimir studies Syarra silently.

Umbrafen Seer attempts to run away in fear!

[Kaszimir]: There is a line.

Syarra nods. "Where is it? For you."

Kaszimir hesitates, then shakes his head. "Not — what I meant. Forgive me." He considers again, frowning.

[Kaszimir]: There is a line — people cross. Soldiers. Some of them. Is it better — to cross it yourself, or to be dragged across?

Syarra frowns back at him, thinking. "I do not know which describes me. But if there is something… that would harm a person to do. I could do it. I can be helpful that way, now."

Umbrafen Witchdoctor attempts to run away in fear!

[Kaszimir]: You could do it. Or will. *He tilts his head and waits, mildly.*

Kas is bad at question marks.

[Syarra]: If you will be clear what lines I am not to cross, I will not cross them. I will not know on my own.

Umbrafen Witchdoctor attempts to run away in fear!

Kaszimir nods thoughtfully, neutral.

The Umbrafen successfully culled, they head north again in silence to the Cenarion camp.

[Kaszimir]: Thank you.

[Kaszimir]: For being frank.

[Syarra]: Thank you. *Syarra considers for a long moment, before adding.* For letting me try to earn your trust.

Kaszimir shrugs.

Lot of shrugging, that guy.

They go their separate ways without further discussion.