The chess game still replayed over in Nenunial's mind. The death knight had left Arieanne upstairs at her room, assuming that the girl would be able to wobble to the bed by herself.
In a need for solitude, as this was the only thing she was used to, Nenunial strode from the inn. The cool night air calmed her, a balm for all the blabbering of Arieanne. Though the other draenei might not be very talkative, chess had certainly changed that. The rambling about chess rules proved too much for Nenunial, and she welcomed the familiarity of silence and loneliness. Though, chess was not the only thing Arieanne talked of. There was something about a demon, one that the girl was hunting. Nenunial guessed that a confrontation had taken place a few days earlier, when she had found the girl lying half dead on the ground. She brushed away such thoughts, dismissing them to be no more than distractions, and continued on.
Crossing over the cobblestone path, her hooves barely making a sound, the death knight tried to make her way past the town. No sooner had she passed under the shadow of the nearest tree, when -he- came.
At first it was a presence, pushing on her mind. Then, he entered her mind, tearing down the fragile barriers that had been constructed due to her great distance from his throne.
"You tarry in this place, why do you not attend to your task?" Arthas boomed, his voice as loud as a crack of thunder. To a passerby, they would have heard nothing. To Nenunial, his glorious voice sent her flying backwards into the tree trunk. Without waiting for an answer, the Lich King toyed with his servant. The death knight writhed on the grass in agony, feeling icy runes burn themselves into her skin. They would disappear in a matter of hours, unless Arthas continued his torture. This she knew from past experiance.
She bit her lips until they bled, knowing that to scream aloud was to invite more pain. Arthas did not use death as a threat, only the exquisite agony that she now felt. Her master watched, amused at the determination of his subject. "Enough," he said, and she felt the pain trickle away slowly, until only a stinging sensation around the runes remained. Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through her head, and she let out a small whimper. As Arthas perused through her mind like an open book, Nenunial sat quietly, not moving an inch. Her muscles screamed in pain, and the runes continued their slow burning, but she said nothing.
"You will travel with this girl," said Arthas, a pleased expression on his face. "She is looking for a demon, which I would be interested in having killed. Let her lead you to him, kill him, and continue with your assignment. I will be watching, you are not above frequent 'reminders', assassin," said her master, and she didn't dream of questioning or arguing with him. Though his hold on her might be weak, the pain was certainly not lessened.
"Yes master," she muttered, having no choice but to agree. Once she felt the presence leave her mind, she slowly got back up, using the tree as a support. Limping forwards, she continued on her way through the forest. In this condition, she wouldn't go far, but the death knight knew better than to return to the inn in her present condition.
"Interesting... very interesting," muttered a voice, which came from a male blood elf. He had heard nothing but Nenunial's words, but the entire affair seemed quite suspicious. "Her highness will be pleased," he smiled, looking up towards an inn window. The black silhouette of a draenei stood there, sitting at the window seat.
"Yes, she will be very pleased indeed."
In a need for solitude, as this was the only thing she was used to, Nenunial strode from the inn. The cool night air calmed her, a balm for all the blabbering of Arieanne. Though the other draenei might not be very talkative, chess had certainly changed that. The rambling about chess rules proved too much for Nenunial, and she welcomed the familiarity of silence and loneliness. Though, chess was not the only thing Arieanne talked of. There was something about a demon, one that the girl was hunting. Nenunial guessed that a confrontation had taken place a few days earlier, when she had found the girl lying half dead on the ground. She brushed away such thoughts, dismissing them to be no more than distractions, and continued on.
Crossing over the cobblestone path, her hooves barely making a sound, the death knight tried to make her way past the town. No sooner had she passed under the shadow of the nearest tree, when -he- came.
At first it was a presence, pushing on her mind. Then, he entered her mind, tearing down the fragile barriers that had been constructed due to her great distance from his throne.
"You tarry in this place, why do you not attend to your task?" Arthas boomed, his voice as loud as a crack of thunder. To a passerby, they would have heard nothing. To Nenunial, his glorious voice sent her flying backwards into the tree trunk. Without waiting for an answer, the Lich King toyed with his servant. The death knight writhed on the grass in agony, feeling icy runes burn themselves into her skin. They would disappear in a matter of hours, unless Arthas continued his torture. This she knew from past experiance.
She bit her lips until they bled, knowing that to scream aloud was to invite more pain. Arthas did not use death as a threat, only the exquisite agony that she now felt. Her master watched, amused at the determination of his subject. "Enough," he said, and she felt the pain trickle away slowly, until only a stinging sensation around the runes remained. Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through her head, and she let out a small whimper. As Arthas perused through her mind like an open book, Nenunial sat quietly, not moving an inch. Her muscles screamed in pain, and the runes continued their slow burning, but she said nothing.
"You will travel with this girl," said Arthas, a pleased expression on his face. "She is looking for a demon, which I would be interested in having killed. Let her lead you to him, kill him, and continue with your assignment. I will be watching, you are not above frequent 'reminders', assassin," said her master, and she didn't dream of questioning or arguing with him. Though his hold on her might be weak, the pain was certainly not lessened.
"Yes master," she muttered, having no choice but to agree. Once she felt the presence leave her mind, she slowly got back up, using the tree as a support. Limping forwards, she continued on her way through the forest. In this condition, she wouldn't go far, but the death knight knew better than to return to the inn in her present condition.
"Interesting... very interesting," muttered a voice, which came from a male blood elf. He had heard nothing but Nenunial's words, but the entire affair seemed quite suspicious. "Her highness will be pleased," he smiled, looking up towards an inn window. The black silhouette of a draenei stood there, sitting at the window seat.
"Yes, she will be very pleased indeed."
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