Overseer Cel'araa Sunshade

((I have been out of the loop on the main forums for a while now, this is due to most of my RP being within one or another of the guilds I am in. I thought it would be interesting to update the Assassin thread as she has been getting up to a lot of mischief.))

Old History - ((The bridge that brings the Overseer from another realm.))


“Where is Ranger Do’Urden?”

Celaraa keeps her head down, she is too tired to think straight, she has been here for a long time that much she does know. He pulls her head back and looks at her bruised face with a smirk, slowly he draws his fist back and she closes her eyes. He draws it out until she is no longer sure he will hit her, when he does her head snaps back against her neck muscles painfully. She relaxes and allows her body to fall sideways, the cool stone seems almost gentle against her numb face. She tastes fresh blood in her mouth as her teeth open her bottom lip yet again, before she has a chance to spit he reaches for her again. Day and night cease to exist, for her life moves from one explosive pain filled moment to the next until they leave her bound and bleeding on the stone while the guards change. Soon a new fist will replace the one she has grown to know, and more blood will rust on the floor she now calls home. Part of her wants to confess to anything just to feel the blade at her throat ending the interrogation, but the stubborn part won't let her take the coward's way out. She has to hold it together, Serp will be looking for her and when he cuts the ropes, she will destroy every single one of them for what they have done to her. Weeks later the beatings have stopped and she has been given a medic to put her together again. They have not released her and Serp has not come for her and Celaraa loses hope of getting out of this alive.

“Clean her, she is to return tonight.”

They move her under cover of darkness, taking her into Silvermoon City while the citizens sleep peacefully unaware of the unfolding drama within the walls.

“Celaraa Sunshade, it seems you do not know where your Ranger is after all.”

Her calm face betrays nothing of the anger within as she faces him, and when she speaks her voice is as soft as it has always been.

“Yes.”

He nods politely at her and looks over her head towards the rich drapes at the entrance. He ignores her completely and she wonders if she has been dismissed, just as she turns to leave he speaks again.

“Belore Alandie has scattered, Ranger Orthos Du’Urden is missing and all I have is you Sunshade.”

Celaraa keeps silent, whatever is about to happen she knows she is powerless to stop. He turns his attention to her once more and the silence becomes heavy between them.

“You will remain the Overseer of Belore Alandie, for now. When we find Do’Urden justice will have its day.”

He turns his back on her and the Blood Knight behind her grabs the back of her neck and pulls her towards the door.

“Overseer, find them and bring them back, I will not have one of my military wings freelancing for the Horde.”

Outside she takes to the shadows and heads for the closest Inn, time enough to find the Belorians, now she needs sleep and food to build her strength. Her first task is to find Serp, but when she does finally find him she cannot tell him what has happened and his coolness towards her is confusing at first. It is not until he tells her to keep the ring that reality sinks in, she watches him walk away from her, from them and the future they planned together. Her wedding dress hangs in her bank vault like a ghost, mocking her for the failure she has made of her life. Taking the dress down she folds it up and puts it away in a bag, before she seals it forever she drops her engagement ring on top of the pale folds inside. When she visits Tyr’s Hand seeking news of her lost Belorians she is given a bunk for the night, but events unfold rapidly as a wounded Imperium Sin’dorei is carried into the barracks and placed on a bunk, with tension riding high a woman kneeling beside the injured man shouts at her to leave and she collects her bag then goes to stand with the guards outside. No one notices she has taken Cho and disappeared, with him safe at Lights Hope stable she comes back and finds a quiet place in the shadows where the guards will not stumble over her, and she settles down to watch the Imperium. She never expected Serp to turn up, then again she should have considered the possibility as he did need the work.

In the shadows Celaraa smirks at her ex as she strokes the handles of her blades.

Revenge can be a bitter blow.

She drops the smoke bomb and steps backwards into the shadows leaving Serp and Tylius standing coughing in the haze. Crouching she watches them turn back towards Tyr's Hand and she smiles knowing he is running back to the black haired boy, sometimes Serp can be so predictable. She flanks them along the road then moves ahead to gain the wooden beams over the gate before they pass beneath her into guard patrolled territory. Serp looks over his shoulder before entering the barracks, almost as if he knows she is watching him. The encounter went better than she had thought it would, probably because Tylius was trying to calm the situation before it became violent. With them both inside she leans back and slips a blade free, the small bladder of poison shows many scars from frequent use, then again a good poison is often an assassins only friend in a tight corner.

Carefully she cleans each blade and coats the deliberately dulled surface, the poison is thin enough to appear almost oily, yet just thick enough to do the job. She watches a stranger walk out of the barracks as she unfastens her fan, each blade is freed in turn to receive the loving embarace of another poison. The stranger departs before she has snicked the last small throwing blade back into the spring loaded device, still watching for signs of life she reaches round and refastens it between her shoulders. Celaraa knows there can be only a few conclusions to her current actions, and after three years with Serp there is one very likely choice he will make if he wants to keep his little friend alive. Once he involves his leaders she will have to walk very carefully if she is to make her kill, then again the Commander of the Imperium may just thank her for taking the petty wannabe criminal off his hands. If the rumours around Silvermoon City are anything to go by then this boy that Serp likes so much is nothing but a bag of hot wind, and she has just the right blade to put a hole in something like that. It is not like he is going to be missed by anyone other than Serp, well apart from the Blood Knights and the last she saw he was trying to openly bribe one of them in front of a witness.

Done with her poisons she relaxes and waits for the boy to show himself, slowly her hair gets wet from the light rain that is falling.

Foolish emotions often lead to bloodshed.

Celara hops lightly off the small wall and follows the shadows towards the supply wagon, pausing close the wheel she uses it to cover her from the lanterns along the fence ahead. Serp is standing close to the stone pillar smoking a thistle, behind him two women walk out of the barracks towards the broken stone fountain in the square. Celara judges the distance to Serp, he is too far for an accurate placement of her throwing star. Why did he have to get involved in this, it made no sense for him to be here unless he was chasing the same intel as her. Celara remains motionless watching him blowing smoke rings, the woman pass him and stop to hug eac hother. Celara slips her star free, holding it flat between her first and second finger she stands up and loses the shadows, with a flick of her wrist the small sharp disc arcs towards the two women. For a moment nothing happens then a loud scream echoes against the stone building, Serp is running almost before the woman reaches for her neck and Celara steps backwards into the shadows with a smirk behind her black mask. Activity erupts as Imperium guards rush the woman into the barracks, in the Shadows Celara nods in satisfaction now she has set the stage for what is to come. Soon Serp strides out of the barracks and she backs away towards the treeline to avoid him stumbling over her in the shadows, she is close enough to hear his low voice as he speaks.

“Leave... now”

Behind him one of the Imperium guards shouts.

“Come on ye ponce! Show yerself!”

Celara takes a step back but another shout stops her, she smirks as the wounded woman screams for the one she is watching.

“Valdris!”

Celara tracks a careful path past Serp and moves back to the supply wagon, he turns and heads rapidly back into the barracks as the masked one raises his voice.

“LILLEAN! WHAT THE F*** IS GOING ON!?”

Celara frowns as he shouts for his bone bag, the blind forsakens sense of smell has proved better than a worgen tracker and Cel considers leaving the area until things die down. Valdris and Lilleän speak quietly in front of the fountain then they split and start tracking the area towards the tent, Celara backs away as they get closer. They search the tent and hound shack but find nothing, Lilleän calls him her lord and Celara stores that information for later use. She is watching him wondering why he covers his eyes when he sniffs the air and a subtle change seems to come over him. Cel gets a rush of cold in her belly and turns to make her escape, he directs Lilleän up the hill towards her and she slips another throwing star into her hand ready to take his throat if he comes any closer. There is no mistaking the tone of his voice when he speaks, it is a tone Celara has used to intimidate those unfortunate enough to spend time in her care.

“Prey? Are you with us?”

Knowing they can both hear her she speaks in a low cold voice.

“Someone is going to die tonight.”

Lilleän scratches at her empty eye socket with one of the big blades she carries, suddenly she throws the heavy blade where the shadows gather the most, Celara sees it arc in the air and jerks backwards to jump away but the handle catches her head sending her tumbling down the sloping hill to land at the feet of the forsakens lord.

“I'LL RIP YE INSIDES OUT AND WEAR THEM AS ROBES!”

The shout comes from the fountain, now out of the shadows she gains her feet and faces the masked one as his forsaken retrieves her blade, from the fountain a guard hurries over with the wounded woman.

“Well well well... Your choice, dungeon or death?”

She tilts her head as he makes his terms clear, calmly she considers the options and makes a choice.

“It is not your choice to make.”

Lilleän scratches at her head and pulls out some hair, with a creepy smirk she stores it in her pocket, he counters her reply and it is clear to Celara that she is forcing his patience.

“Hence why I said 'Your choice.”

“I choose neither.”

If he is pushable then why not test his boundary, with that in mind Celara keeps her voice calm and reasonable when she speaks to him. Something sinister seems to hang between him and Lilleän, once more she wonders why a blind forsaken would throw her lot in with a Sin’dorei who covers his eyes.

“If you choose neither, then I must choose for you.”

It seems fair but Celara is not finished pushing him, the wounded woman walks towards the barracks and Cel smirks as she gives it another try.

“Perhaps you should follow her, and take you little minion with you.”

He makes no immediate reply and looks towards the ramparts in the distance, when he finally does reply she almost laughs, either he is stubborn or very sure of himself.

“Sorry... Just wondering how your head would look on top of that.”

“Pity you won't find out.”

“I grow tired of this... Dungeon or death? You have been creeping about long enough to know the way.”

He finally loses patience with her which amuses her all the more, she has chosen the dungeon, it is the natural progression to her goal.

“Open the dungeon!”

A cluster of people are near the dungeon as they bring her into the barracks, Cel watches with interest as a punch is thrown and blood leaks from the offending nose. The opportunity to cause some trouble is too much to resist and she stops opposite the group to offer some sarcastic advice in the hopes of pushing the masked man waiting nearby.

“Hit a little harder next time, that was pitiful.”

One of them walks out in anger and Cel smirks behind her mask as another agrees with her, then she is moved on to face a locked door, leaning on the wall she waits for something to happen.

“You are quite good at what you do by the way. Should you have a change of heart, the Shadowblades could use your talent.”

Celara feels suddenly wary of him in the way of all hunters who suddenly become the hunted.

“Interesting offer, I may consider it. Which way is your little dungeon?”

“I will do my best to prevent the Marshal of having her way with you...now we wait for the Jailer.”

The forsaken shakes her head and a maggot comes out her ear, it triggers a memory of Lilleän in Silvermoon City when Ranger Orthos was still leading the Belorians and Cel smiles to herself.

When the woman strides up the man calls her the jailer which clearly annoys her. His disregard for her rank become more apparent as the woman flips him the finger and Cel makes a mental note of the tension for future exploitation. The female prisoner is taken from the room Cel finds herself in and a quick glance round reveals it to be a standard dungeon of the sort you find in almost every military outpost. She is no stranger to rooms like this, a practiced eye takes in the various restraints, not surprising they even have a couple of iron maidens down here. Another bit of information emerges as he refers to himself as a Baron and Cel smirks, she now has a name and a title to sell, if the price is right of course. He watches Celara as he tells the torturer she can kill the prisoner if she wishes and to lock up after she is done. Celara finds him amusing once more, again he uses intimidation tactics on her when he should know better.

The woman picks up a small rope, her hands almost seem to gently caress it as she moves towards Celara and grabs her arms from behind, locking them against her body with her powerful arm. Celara offers no resistance, allowing her to remove her blades from her hips then bind her wrists. She picks her up over a plate clad shoulder and slams Cel onto the table, holding her down with a heavy hand as she shouts loudly.

“How badly do you want her hurt!”

“Light torture. I'll ask questions while you do it.”

The two of them bicker for a while and Celara wonders if they have something private going on, then her thoughts are arrested as the torturer takes out some hooked chains.

“Blondie. Why are you lurking here?”

Celara keeps silent as the woman wraps the normal end of a chain around the ropes on her wrists, she glances at Lilleän as she sits on a rail listening. A second chain is hooked through the first and passed to a hook in the wooden beams above them. The chain is drawn taught until Cel is almost off the table, the strain on her shoulders and ribs is noticeable and she tenses a couple of times to try and loosen up if they leave her for a long period of time.

“ Any time you want to answer... You can save yourself...”

Celara ignores him as her boots are pulled off and thrown onto a nearby rack with a broken ankle stock on it. The woman starts to hum softly as she looks over a selection of daggers on a table near the wall, she makes her selection and turns towards Celara as he speaks again.

“Blondie. Answer me.”

“Why are you interested?”

“You are on Imperium grounds, it is my right to know.”

Her foot is held tight as the blade is pushed into the back of her ankle, there is no immediate pain but she feels a sudden slackening along the back of her thigh as the tendon is severed from her heel bone.

“Speak and I make Niathril be nice.”

“...I'm supposed to be nice?”

Celara looks at the bottom of the table, her mind already working out a compensation for a useless leg, she answers him calmly wondering how long before her ankle starts to hurt.

“You won't.”

“Your reason for being here...”

Celara keeps silent this time, her eyes flick over to the stairs and she estimates there are about 20 to the locked door at the top, her pick is still hidden in her belt so that poses no problem, the only issue will be the guards.

“Move it up a little, I want her to talk...”

The dagger enters her other ankle and she tightens her arms against her bonds, this time the torturer leaves the dagger sticking out of her ankle and Cel makes a note of that for later use.

“I'd answer him if I were you darlin...”

Niathril takes the end of the chain as she speaks, Celara feels it slacken a little then hold tight once more.

“Answer him or I let you fall.”

“Then I fall.”

Celara fights hard to keep her voice calm knowing she will not have the use of one foot should the woman let go of the chain, she considers the outcome as the Baron speaks.

“Answer the question.......so be it.”

The tension loosens fast as the two chains part dropping Cels full body weight onto her useless feet, she falls heavily onto her hip on the table and grits her teeth in pain beneath her mask.

“Feel like answering?”

Her head is pulled back as Niathril rips the mask away to reveal her face. The torturer starts humming softly, the sound moves away from the table then drifts back over and she asks Cel if she is hungry. Cel glances at the Baron as a piece of rotten meat is shoved close to her mouth, the smell alone is enough to make her eyes water and judging from the sound of flies she knows it's likely to be maggot infested too.

“Having fun Torturer?”

“Quite stubborn, ain't she?”

“I said question her! Not play with her!”

Celara cannot see what the woman is doing behind her but she feels apprehensive as she leans towards her damaged tendons. When she touches the raw edges Cel feels an electric tingle, her hands roll into fists and she tries to breathe calmly, knowing this is just the beginning.

“Why are you here?”

“ANSWER HIM!”

Cel keeps silent and Niathril pushes something sharp into her ankle, electric current surges into her muscles making them tighten to almost tearing point, Cel is aware her back is arched and she is shaking but thankfully she keeps from screaming. Now annoyed Niathril throws something down loudly and the pain fades away leaving Celara sweating, she takes a shaky breath and growls softly. She hears them talking together then the Baron tells her to move aside and let a Shadowblade take over, Cel takes note of the name as Niathril grabs her face and forces her mouth open with her fingers, the rotten mean is forced into the back of her throat until she chokes and gags. The Baron shouts for Lilleän as Niathril speaks softly to her.

“LILLEAN! When the Torturer is finished I want you to learn EVERYTHING about the spy, use any means necessary.”

“If you're willing to speak yet.. nod and i'll remove the meat.”

Celara no longer feels amused, time to push him a little more. She knows he once touched her mind and she thinks clearly, waiting for him, testing him.

~everything you hold dear will die for this~
~How sweet~
~F*** you, get out of my head~

Niathril loses her temper and grabs Celara’s ears and screams at her, another piece of information Cel stores for later, the torturer is emotional and that can be exploited.

“LISTEN TO ME YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SCUM, YOU ANSWER THE QUESTION NOW OR I'LL MAKE YOU REGRET THE DAY YOU WERE CONCEIVED!”

Celara decides to push Niathril instead of the Baron and spits some of the rotten meat into her face, the hand that tightens around her throat clearly tells Cel that the woman can be manipulated. Fingers are forced into her mouth pushing the meat down until it cannot go further with the hand blocking her throat and Celara deliberately uses her artificially sharpened teeth on the woman. Niathril removes her lightly bleeding fingers and punches Cel in the mouth before stepping back, some of the rotten meat gets swallowed in reflex and Celara tries to push the remainder onto the table. Something erupts from the ground and moves quickly beyond her vision, all becomes silent and she runs a few ideas around her head wondering what it was. A rotten head moves into view, tilting from side to side as the black tongue dangles freely from its open mouth. It leans forward sniffing at the meat still stuck in Cels mouth then makes an excited sound before it licks into her mouth to get at the stinking flesh, somewhere deep inside the assassin is revolted and closes her eyes trying to shut out the view of it. The thing pulls the meat fully out of Cels mouth and eats it, then shoves the black tongue back into her mouth to lick it clean, she finally vomits when it tries to push its tongue down her throat. Opening her eyes she sees it lapping up the mess then it starts to lick at its own hands, Celara makes herself a silent promise, she will blood hunt Niathril’s family if it takes her forever, but she will take her revenge on the torturer. Lilleän prods her bony finger into the wounds on the back of Cels ankles then sticks her finger into her own mouth

“Ready to speak..?”

Celara pushes the Baron again, hoping she is right about something between him and Niathril.

~Each of her most loved, one at a time will die slowly while she watches~
~Talk and it will be over, do not talk and you won't get the chance.~

“Why are you here?”

~They don't know what to ask, stupid little war camp~

“You, amuse, me”

“Amuse you? That's lovely to know darling, I do try.”

Lilleän speaks somewhere in the room, and she becomes Cels bony betrayer.

“Little Celara Sunshade...”

((This RP took place in two parts but I have yet to write up the second piece of it. Cel is obviously no longer in the dungeon and her ex fiancé has since broke up with the dark haired boy Vel'thion. After another short stay in the Imperium dungeon Cel has moved into Silvermoon in the care of her Sister, Priestess Gel'anaa Lightshroud. Her disfigured left leg has been worked on, the thick twisted scar that spanned from her hip to below her knee has been removed leaving a more flexible and much smaller mark. Her left tendon is still weaker than it was before and she favours her left leg.
As a brief note, the wound to her left leg happened when she smashed Niathril's face into the table she was on, and one of the guards in the dungeon took his sword to her. It is one of the few times Cel has come close to dying, she bled out to the point her heart became erratic and she almost went into cardiac arrest. She still cannot work out why the Baron took her off the floor where she had crawled to die, and sent her out on a strider giving her a chance to stay alive. Perhaps one day she will find out, but for now she will be in hiding after attempting the life of Commander Akechi Shadowstorm, something she knows she will pay dearly for in the future.*

Gels