the coup

[groundrules]

Hello to our last Big Event of the year, covering 2-22 December and also subbing as our test drive.

Current players can play here or make separate logs & network posts. TDM tourists are confined to this playground, but can include network prompts in their top levels.

If you’re trialling a character, you can apply them until 21 December without a game invite. TDM characters can participate in the sign-up quests without taking up a slot, but cannot vote for event outcomes.

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?

---

Taravast’s civilians take to spirited protests and seize the Palace of the Doxe. They intend to redirect Doxe Bonaccorso Spina’s attention and resources to his people, livelihoods suffered in recent undead attacks. The Merchant sends ‘help’ to oust the Doxe.

Amid the chaos, Vannozza Spina seeks to apprehend her grandfather. Her cousin Macaluso, Bonaccorso’s prisoner, can be liberated. Outgunned, outmanned and outnumbered, Bonaccorso orders the city burned down.


TDM TOURISTS | OLD TIMERS | COMMON: THE COUP | NOTES

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TDM TOURISTS: THE BARREN BONES

You wake up in shallow water, other supine bodies beside you. The nearby occupants of a desert outpost greet you with a coarse translation and communication device and introduce you to their leader, the Merchant. He rescues otherworlders who were summoned to serve as weapons for warring undead factions, sending them east — where forgotten beacons can return them home.

A. A FRIEND IN NEED

Unconscious new arrivals are delivered every few days, recovered from the dunes. They are submerged in oasis waters. Some characters wake weaker of body and mind, struggling to focus their thoughts or their supernatural abilities — effects that recede within one-three days. Others are plagued by a drowning sensation for one-two days.

■ Help fellow newcomers as they regain their strength with sparring, a calming voice or a warm meal.

■ Newcomers must share tents and carry out camp tasks: hold the night watch, man fires, kill viper nests and excessively large scorpions or, fate help everyone if you’re related to Xie Lian, cooking.

B. A FRIEND IN DEED

Soon enough, the Merchant reveals more otherworlders are assigned in the nearby magical citadel of Taravast, which is on the brink of civil uprising against the ruling Doxe Bonaccorso Spina. Your fellows need you, cavalry.

The Merchant sends the fresh conscripts on a three-day journey to Taravast across a desert canyon, granting supplies, horses or seats in shared carts.

■ Fresh horses wait at specific landmarks, but some suppliers trade steeds for the better coin of rich merchants evacuating Taravast. If you end up stranded, find help.

■ Weather forecast: frequent, cruel sand storms that challenge even expert riders. Collect anyone who gets lost in the dunes — particularly near wild cougars.

■ Some Taravast refugees crowd or pretend accidents to loot your horses. A select few diplomatic convoys offer assistance, or try to confiscate your rides.

» THE LOUD CROWD

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OLD TIMERS: THE STREETS, RALLYING

Dissenting necromancers, healers and civilians begrudge Doxe Bonaccorso’s failure to ensure their safety and distribute repairs funds fairly. Many believe that Bonaccorso has been manipulated by Macaluso and Vannozza.

The initially peaceful protests exacerbate into after several days: demonstrators frequently come to blows with city guards around the 20:00 evening curfew. Protesters carry sharp and blunt weapons, small explosive talismans or banners. Some are ghost-summoning necromancers, others are sorcerers who command a small array of elemental spells.

■ Protesters try to enthusiastically conscript passers-by to their cause. Some assume characters leaving the Doxe Palace are nobility and try to kidnap and ransom them for an audience with Bonaccorso.

■ Merchants and the last few of Macaluso’s foreign suitors begin their exodus from Taravast and ask you to serve as escort in exchange for compensation.

■ Palace guards retaliate with disproportionate violence when they catch crowds without magic users or experienced combatants. Rescue some demonstrators — but prepare to run — or scout the streets so they can escape.

■ The clashes separate some Taravast residents from food, commodities and healers. Be a friend.

■ In rare good news, protesters share with Wrathion and Slick their battle and coordination signs and passcodes.

■ Some crowd contingents are less spirited about this endeavour — try talking them out of this revolution business.

■ Characters without powers or weapons can resort to the arsenal Wrench and Aang recovered from looters: daggers, maces, swords, bows and five-six man-sized water serpents, who heed those who first summon them out of their Poke balls.

» » THE BANNER MUST ADVANCE

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ALL TOGETHER NOW: THE BARRICADES

Within a week of the first demonstrations, the protesters and Doxe Bonaccorso’s guards have devolved into vicious and regular violence. Civilian demonstrators have been joined by many necromancers wielding fresh corpses, minor sorcerers, healers and a handful of expert combatants, assigned by sympathetic gentry. Bonaccorso’s men conduct regular inspections and arrests. The demonstrators meanwhile set traps of magical ice and explosives.

Led by the lawyer Giacomo Zanardo and the healer Sebastiano Bianchi, the mob seeks to storm the Palace of the Doxe and persuade Bonaccorso back to his senses, which have surely been corrupted by his absent nephew Macaluso and niece Vannozza.

RISE ONE, RISE ALL

Existing characters are soon joined by fresh reinforcements. Everyone receives the Merchant’s transmission:

”It has emerged, vocally, that Doxe Bonaccorso Spina no longer serves the interests of his city, his people or our contingent. The most efficient recourse is to depose him. How, and whether you choose to instate one of his successors, is of no consequence to me. I send a wave of our new otherworldly associates to assist you. Fair fortune.”

■ Zanardo and Bianchi organise a last bout of midnight merrymaking before the Palace attack at dawns. Meet your reinforcements at a… large, cold, rudimentarily decorated warehouse in one of Taravast’s dodgiest district. Close your eyes and smell the salted fish.

■ Old and new characters can collect further plain weapons from rioters. Slick receives command of five NPC protesters.

■ Pacifists can scout the Palace of the Doxe to report back the watch patterns, or try to persuade servants to open the gates.

■ Come dawns, protesters seize the Palace, meeting fresh waves of Bonaccorso’s guards in the gardens before advancing inside.

■ The Merchant informs Eleven and Shen Qingqiu they are required back in Taravast. He cuts a deal with local warlord Anurr, who supplies two transporters orbs that will transport the duo immediately.

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PARALLEL QUESTS (OPEN TO ALL)

Because of overlapping timelines, your character can only be signed up for one of the three following missions. Each quest will be capped at 15 characters: first come, first served. You can vote on game polls irrespective of what mission your character pursues.

NOTE: TDM tourists can participate in the quests and do not need to sign up. They can include prompts for one of the parallel quests in their top-level prompts, or can tag around. However, TDM tourists don't qualify for the NPC RNG draw and cannot vote on Bonaccorso's fate.


A. LET IT BUUUUUURN, LET IT BURN

Counting the last hours of his reign, Doxe Bonaccorso Spina takes to the great balcony of his Palace to address the masses:

”My people, my loved ones. Twenty-two years ago, I came before you, a man ruined: my son and my daughter taken from me. Is there any pain greater than burying your children? Only today: to see the blood of your blood and the blood of your nation, united against you. To know your nephew made weapon of a blade and your niece of her gold, and your people are indiscriminate in their arsenal. You tear down my doors, sirs! You bloody my halls! And when you stand against your Doxe, you stand against Taravast. And why? Because I turned my eye from you for scant moments. Spoiled! Shameless! All I ever intended were more years in your service. For we must strike a permanent truce with the dead. To survive. Know that even now, I see you: you are strong, gifted, beautiful. How it breaks my heart to know I must bury my children again.”
After this, Bonaccorso orders the 20 court witches of Bessis currently at the Palace rain down fire from the northern and southern towers, unto the masses.

■ Current Bessis leader Margherita Moretti is instructed to call her sister witches to Taravast’s greater walls, where they might direct further fire upon all who oppose Bonaccorso.

■ Ten witches will climb each Palace tower, targeting protesters. Sign up and discuss how characters can slip the witches sleeping herbs with their water, kill them, feign fresh orders from Moretti, etc.

■ The witches of Bessis have historically received the patronage of the imprisoned Macaluso. Many recently retreated from court, embittered by Bonaccorso’s support for the rival Attaryl. Moretti is reasonable, if loyal, and possesses a conscience. She rides out to bring further Bessis assistance.

■ Team up, pursue and capture Moretti down the chaotic streets of Taravast. Two characters — chosen on 10 December through RNG draw from the signed-up crew — can participate in a NPC thread to talk her down.

B. OFF WITH THE OLD MAN’S HEAD

Informed by Wrath and Wen Qing’s faction that her grandfather prepared to possess her body, Vannozza Spina moves to apprehend Bonaccorso.

Following his speech, the Doxe holes up in his quarters, guarded by several dozen Attaryl witches — masters of illusions, telekinesis and mind control. They will try to briefly steal or dim characters’ senses, thrall them into seeing their allies as enemies and crumble walls and statues upon them. The witches are easily defeated through physical means.

■ Characters can charge in militarily or infiltrate by presenting as palace staff or Attaryl reinforcements. Those who previously assisted servants can receive spare uniforms and directions. Sign up here.

■ In-game characters can vote until 15 December to decide Bonaccorso’s fate. Two characters drawn via RNG can share a NPC thread for a short discussion with him. Wen Qing and Wrath can optionally have a separate talk thread, given their participation in Vannozza’s plotline.

C. SAVE THE HIMBO, SAVE THE WORLD

Macaluso Spina’s attempt to persuade his Doxe grandfather of the merits of retirement condemned him to house arrest, awaiting trial on charges of assassination. He is secluded in his wing of the Palace of the Doxe, guarded by two dozens of Bonaccorso’s men and by illusion traps devised by Attaryl witches.

Characters can hear footsteps, men giving chase, the muffled voices of Macaluso or their companions, all unseen. A mirrored hall leads you back to its beginning, as your reflection mocks you — until you break a mirror.

■ Characters who have helped Palace servants can receive tips on guard numbers and locations, or corridor shortcuts.

■ Sign up here. Two characters picked via RNG draw on 10 December can share a NPC thread to discuss Macaluso’s next steps. Alina Starkov can have an optional separate thread, for her involvement in Macaluso’s plot so far.

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QUESTIONS

TEST DRIVERS

OLD TIMERS

Comments

> RISE ONE, RISE ALL

[blackscales]

[ This is not going to end well for any of them, Wrathion is sure of that much.

He's dressed down into his best attempt at blending in, swathes of dark fabric hiding his figure and his more expensive accessories.

Still, it does nothing to disguise his bright red eyes.

Across the room from Anduin, Wrathion is locked in conversation with a small group. He rubs his beard thoughtfully, eyes flitting to the floor every so often as he listens to them. His voice, though, is distinctive: over the crowd, every so often, his answers can be just about made out. ]

Macaluso cannot be the cause. Even now, imprisoned, the chaos continues. Left to this fate, whatever he knows may die with him.

[ There's a murmur from the small crowd around him. One of them appears to be leaning on a harpoon. Wrathion himself is trying not to think too hard about what this man intends to do with the harpoon. He speaks up again: ]

No, he'll be well guarded. A distraction to draw away some of the guards would give us an opportunity to try and extract him more... carefully. A disguise may be worth looking into. We'll need more people, too.

[ The crowd exchange glances, thoughtful, then nod. Wrathion turns, picking up a mug and taking a sip. ]

See what you can find. I'll be here.

[ He moves to lean up against one wall, moving his mug to another hand and digging through his pockets as he thinks and the small crowd splits away in groups. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin has been -- ruminating on the issue at hand, the fact that he knows so very little about what is going on here, and the idea that he may be in fact aiding in what turns out to be the wrong decision.

Experience has proven to him that he is not necessarily the best at covert operations, and gathering further information about their current predicament to glean whether he really should be helping certainly feels like one. The best he can do is find himself a seat towards the edge of the room and listen in, hoping his companions nearby will drop something in their conversation of note.

He is sitting and listening to the man beside him speaking about unfair wages for repairs of the city, a rock forming in his gut as he does, when he catches the sound of a familiar voice from across the room. The topic of discussion may not be familiar, but he would swear...

Anduin does not know whether it is better or worse that there is a crowd. That he is able to maintain a certain level of anonymity as he stands on the edge and gapes, for certainly there is Wrathion. It is him, isn't it? It definitely sounds like him, both in voice and turn of phrase, and he would find himself in the middle of an uprising, of all places. Still.

He waits until the crowd has dispersed and Wrathion (it is him, it is) has settled against the wall in thought before he steps forward. He has dressed down himself, in the plain traveling clothing the Merchant had given him, his hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He's left Shalamayne with the rest of his belongings for the evening, but. His features have always been too bright for a disguise himself.]

You had quite the audience.

[blackscales]

[ Wrathion is not, at that particular moment, paying a huge amount of attention to everyone who has arrived. He's recognised one or two people, but by and large a lot of those here are locals.

He doesn't notice Anduin lingering, and as the crowd disperses his eyes are dropped down -- busying himself digging in his pockets.

They lift at the sound of a voice, and Wrathion goes very still.

He's still not, in truth, entirely sure how he came to be wherever this is. The fact that he didn't know how does mean that he's been very aware others might arrive here. He hadn't seen anyone, but it wasn't impossible.

Still, knowing something is possible is different to... seeing it first hand.

There's a long pause, Wrathion weighing up exactly how to respond. ]

I've always drawn attention.

[ He slides the communication pendant back into his pocket, braces his drink with both hands as he considers Anduin. ]

The same could be said about you, normally, but it seems you've chosen to play spectator.

[chosenbylight]

[There is a comfort in the jab, a familiarity. This place may be foreign and Anduin may not entirely understand why he is there or what he should be making of himself while he is, but Wrathion is still poking fun at his speeches and he cannot say how relieved he is to see him here, no matter how complicated things may be.

He offers the other man a one-shouldered shrug, playing his fingers along his own (untouched) drink as he does.]

I am not certain the crowd would want to hear my own opinions about this place.

[He's fairly certain he has not been here long enough to draw them yet, in truth. Which is indeed part of the problem.

He studies Wrathion's face for a long moment, though he knows the dragon will be doing his best to give nothing away, before he continues:]

I did not expect to find you here.

[blackscales]

A surprise for both of us, I assure you.

[ None of this was planned, on his part, and he doesn't want Anduin to think that.

There's a pause again, Wrathion processing this unexpected appearance. His eyes flit around the warehouse, thinking. Presumably, Anduin was one of the... reinforcements mentioned in the message he received. If he's here, his presence is sure to be missed in Stormwind. There will be... consequences. Not to say that Wrathion himself is not missed, but his absence leaves a different sort of mark to that of the High King of the Alliance. ]

We have a common acquaintance, I presume. Calls himself The Merchant, employs a fiery young assistant.

[ His new best friend, Karsa. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin nods, carefully, watching as Wrathion glances around the warehouse around them. He isn't entirely certain whether he's met the assistant, but he's certainly become acquainted with The Merchant in these few days he's found himself here already.]

Yes, he. Found me. Out in the dunes. They gave us food and supplies, then sent us here so that we might help bolster the numbers in town, for...

[He gestures vaguely with one hand, as if that might encompass everything that has been going on in the past few days, hesitating a moment before frowning back up at Wrathion.]

To help you overthrow the ruling power, apparently. I'm not certain whether that part was clear from the start. It's all been rather a lot to take in.

[blackscales]

[ To help him? ]

Not my idea, I assure you. I've not been considering taking up the family business.

[ Besides, this revolution is far too messy and there are.... other forces involved.

Wrathion frowns for a moment, then skims his eyes back to Anduin. ]

We should speak in private.

[ If Anduin desires more information, which no doubt he does. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin regards Wrathion carefully for a moment, across the space in between them. He wonders whether he should trust him, whether this is some sort of elaborate scheme. Wrathion is always plotting something, and he doesn’t doubt that much the same is true even now, and yet.

After a careful moment of consideration, he nods. Wrathion has clearly been here longer than he has, has had the time to gather more information — to truly embroil himself into the situation, if the crowd he had gathered is anything to go by. And besides that, he… He’s a friend, if one who has betrayed his trust and used him for his own means on more than one occasion.]

Do you have somewhere in mind?

[His own lodgings, arranged for by the Merchant himself, aren’t exactly confidential. Or nearby, for that matter.]

[blackscales]

I do, if you're quite done with the celebrations.

[ Wrathion gestures to the party with one hand, takes another slow sip of his drink before setting it aside. The mug gives off the gentle, soothing smell of tea rather than of any sort of alcoholic drink. ]

I have a place around the corner. Not to your usual standard, of course, but it will do for privacy.

[ Which is the main goal here. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin raises an eyebrow at Wrathion, as if to ask whether that was a serious question. He should know that this is not exactly Anduin's scene, after all. Or at least, Anduin assumes he would.

He sets his drink down on the closest table and opens his own hands in invitation. While Wrathion has tea, Anduin's drink is definitely alcoholic and speaks of something that was thrust in his hands, rather than something he had chosen for himself.

Your usual standard.]

I'm certain I will manage.

[blackscales]

[ It wasn't at all a serious question.

Wrathion adjusts his dark clothing, links his hands behind his back and begins to thread his way through the crowd to the exit. He pauses by the doorway, murmuring something to someone who nods in response, then steps through. Outside, the constant mid-spring weather gives way to a cool night to match the cool indoors of the warehouse. The dragon turns to make sure Anduin is still with him, then begins to thread his way through the streets. There is damage done to the buildings around them, the signs of some sort of battle precluding whatever is still to come. ​]

Your arrival in Taravast was recent?

[ It seems as such, but just to be sure: Wrathion has no desire to talk down to Anduin if, by some chance, he's been here much longer than he expects. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin glances aside at the person that Wrathion speaks to -- he certainly does seem to know quite a lot of people here, doesn't he? Between the initial crowd gathered around him, and now... This?

Anduin raises a questioning eyebrow at him as they pass but otherwise keeps quiet, letting Wrathion lead the way through the streets. There is a part of him that reminds himself to relax his stance, he is not King Anduin Wrynn of Stormwind here and it would be best if he doesn't walk down the road like he's on patrol of it. He's just catching himself in the act of clasping his hands in perhaps not the most common of ways when Wrathion speaks.]

Yes, I've. Only just arrived in town few days ago. Our instructions were fairly clear...

[blackscales]

Mmmmm.

[ Wrathion's curious what, exactly, those instructions were -- but he can't ask openly on the street. If Anduin has been assigned some double agent role he can't announce that in idle conversation, after all. ]

The situation is... complex.

[ To say the least. Wrathion leads Anduin down more narrow streets, between damaged buildings until he comes to a stop in one. He pauses, fishes in his pockets and proceeds...

To pick the lock.

Beggars cannot be choosers, he doesn't have the original key.

The building's windows are boarded up, but it seems structurally sound. There's little in the way of decoration inside, a small collection of pillows and throws in one corner. Wrathion gestures to the fireplace and it lights immediately, then he kneels down and pries up a floorboard -- rummaging underneath and pulling out a couple of small bags. ]

Tell me what you know.

[ The easiest place to start. He sets the floorboard back in place, pauses, then after a moments thought crosses back over and relocks the front door from the inside.

You can never be too careful. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin is only half paying attention to what Wrathion is doing, up until he realizes that that is decidedly not a key that Wrathion has produced for this door. He makes something of a face at the other man, folding his arms across his chest as he does, though he makes no verbal protest. He understands there is more to this story than meets the eye, though he's clearly going to hold Wrathion to telling him the lot of it.

Unfortunately for Anduin, as they step forth into the space inside, Wrathion beats him to the question.

He lets out a heavy sigh, reaching a hand up to run through his hair, watching Wrathion lock the door behind himself and wondering whether there is somewhere they might make themselves comfortable or whether they're just going to stalk up and down the opposite sides of the room like wolves in a cage.]

Only as much as they want me to, I would imagine. I -- woke up in the desert, and the Merchant rescued us. Gathered a group in the desert, got us fed and situated before he sent us across the desert to this place. He said that it was on the brink of a civil uprising against a man named Bonaccorso.

[He frowns across the room at Wrathion, blue eyes flicking between the locked door then back to him.]

When we arrived here, the protests had already begun. Then we received that message...

'The most efficient recourse is to depose him.'

[He raises his eyebrows to Wrathion in question. Is this ringing a bell?]

[blackscales]

[ Certainly, Wrathion seems unsurprised by anything Anduin is saying. He digs through one of the bags dragged from under the floorboards, producing small amounts of food. ]

Taravast is ruled by a conclave, lead by someone known as the Ilia Doxe. The current holder of that position is our dear friend Bonaccorso Spina. Bonaccorso is retiring, and his niece and nephew have been vying to take over that position. Until quite recently I held a position at the Palace of the Doxe under his nephew's political party, disguised as a foreign dignitary.

[ Of course, he was absolutely involved. ]

Quite recently, said nephew was arrested for an attempt on Bonaccorso's life. His household has been disbanded.

[ Hence, Wrathion is... no longer in the palace. ]

[chosenbylight]

You held a...

[Anduin is unable to keep his surprise off of his face. It isn't impossible that Wrathion should hold a position in a palace under a political party -- after all, he had been Anduin's own political advisor. But to have been so embroiled in the politics in this place...?

His eyebrows furrow, his expression pinching as he questions:]

How long have you been here?

[blackscales]

Perhaps two weeks?

[ Surely long enough to become someone's political advisor!

Then again, perhaps more explanation is needed there. ]

The position was a cover story to explain my presence, provided by our dear friend The Merchant. I was to play the role of a legal pioneer, diplomat and master orator -- which suited me just fine.

[ Naturally. Isn't that basically what he is already?

No time to disagree he's moving on. ]

My goal was to superficially support the young nephew, yet also undermine him subtly. It seems the Merchant desired the other party to win.

[ Wrathion stands again, considers Anduin and hesitates. ]

His arrest was not my doing.

[ It feels important he establish that early, before Anduin gets the wrong idea. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin finds himself staring at the other man.

Two weeks.

In two weeks he has not only settled himself into a foreign land, but weedled himself into a foreign court -- not only as a spy, but as a very visible one, by the sounds of it. No wonder all those men recognized him back there. Was that due to his role as ousted diplomat? Or has he really come so far, so fast?

Not that he supposes he ought to be all that surprised, and yet.

He finally finds himself able to collect himself at the comment about arrest, as he realizes exactly what a dangerous position Wrathion had put himself in. That the Merchant had put him in, so newly arrived.

Shaking his head, he raises a hand to run across his face, moving to pace the room for a moment as he processes it all.]

You were... You agreed to such a role?

[He turns to face the other man, incredulously. He should not be surprised, he shouldn't. And yet.

He searches his mind for the many questions he could ask, that he wants ask, where he should possibly start, before he settles on:]

What happened? I wouldn't think that all this is to plan.

[blackscales]

Not to my plan, certainly.

[ Wrathion folds his arms, fingers tapping uneasily against one bicep as he thinks. ]

I don't believe the nephew, Macaluso, capable of raising a blade against Bonaccorso of his own accord. Either he was arrested on false charges, or he was... compelled.

[ Both plausible. ]

The niece, Vannozza, was the more sharp of the two. Macaluso was the underdog in this race, an idealist, a diplomat. Someone you'd get along with, I'm sure. Vannozza played the political game better.

[ No offence, Anduin, but politics is cutthroat and Vannozza seemed to understand that. ]

But there was another play I was unaware of. Bonaccorso had some sort of deal to keep this city safe. Taravast has limited defences of its own, and it seems Bonaccorso had actually been... paying off other parties in exchange for Taravast's extended freedom. In the midst of some chaos here, those payments were... missed. The city was attacked, hence the damage. The people believe what happened was Bonaccorso had been distracted or... manipulated by his niece and nephew in their ongoing political battles, and that he was still a kind and just man who could be persuaded. Far from it, he's been working with dark magic to extend his own life expectancy and his next goal seemed to be possessing his niece's body when his own fails.

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin’s expression pinches at that. An underdog, someone you would get along with. Yes, thanks ever so much for that observation, Wrathion.

The rest of it, however, is quite a lot to take in, and he needs to take a moment to process it. He reaches up his hand again to pinch the bridge of his nose before he repeats:]

Let me see if I am getting this right. His next goal was to possess the body of the niece, who is the head of the faction that this Merchant had planted you to secretly support within the palace.

[He glances back to Wrathion.]

What happened to the city? You said there was an attack? Not the riots, I assume that those are. New.

[blackscales]

Yes, in retaliation for the missed protection payments.

[ Wrathion pauses, uneasy. The fingers of one hand flex into his arm. ]

Our attackers were reminiscent of the Scourge. Armies of undead, mostly, organised into factions it seems.

[ There's a long pause, Wrathion hesitating a few times as if about to say something. ]

Among them is a faction lead by one they call the Beastmaster. He commands living creatures to his will, catches them in some sort of thrall. He chased me to the walls of this city, I could hear him in my head.

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin stills at that description. He had known that something important had been coming, from the way that Wrathion had paused before he had continued, and yet.

He understands at once, of course, why Wrathion is shaken by such a person. He doubts that they are anywhere as powerful as N'Zoth, but to experience anything like the whispers once again...

He takes in a breath and lets it out in a slow sigh. Armies of the undead, a Beastmaster capable of controlling others through their thoughts. He supposes it is foolish to have escaped such troubles, here in a different land.]

This sounds like quite a lot of trouble for you to have found yourself in, in only two weeks, but then again...

[Wrathion.]

[blackscales]

[ Oh?

Wrathion lofts an eyebrow elegantly, feeling a flash of irritation, then relaxes his posture -- turns to begin picking up cushions and throwing them over onto the floor by the fire near his unpacked selection of food. ]

Ah, but of course. I'm certain the great lion of Stormwind would never dare to be so interfering. Why, I don't doubt you'll simply stay here and let whatever happens simply happen. A diplomatic mind like yours would be so conscious of that sort of thing.

[ Honestly, Anduin. ]

[chosenbylight]

[Anduin narrows his eyes slightly at the jab, but does not allow himself to rise in response to it. Yes, yes, alright, so he is certainly not innocent of wrongdoings himself. But this is a lot of trouble for such a short time, Wrathion, surely even you see that yourself?

It isn't his fault though, and Anduin has to acknowledge that as well. He watches Wrathion fussing with the cushions across the room for another long moment before he gathers himself enough to reply.]

You said that he was chasing you. Why? What else should I know about this place, Wrathion?

[What else aren't they us?]

[blackscales]

[ Why? Isn't it obvious, via context? Wrathion throws the last of the cushions over then turns to retrieve two small glasses, brings them over and sets them down on the floor. ]

I woke up in my natural shape.

[ The Beastmaster knows he's a dragon, and wants a dragon. ]