Dust eddies from rotting robes as an old Arakkoa shambles down a dimly lit hallway. The Fragrant air of Terokkar long since replaced with stagnant clouds of smog.

The Arakkoa coughs; leaning on her cane as she scuffles onward down the dank tunnel, clutching a small candle and holding it outstretched before her. She hobbles to a stop and raises the candle to shine upon a large steel door. Standing in stark contrast to the earthen surroundings. The Arakkoa raises her cane and rasps on the door three times, waits; and then a fourth, and with a earthshaking rumble and hiss of steam the steel plates upon the door unfold outwards. Light envelopes the Arakkoa, she grins and pinches out the candle and stuffs it back into her robes. She then looks forward, puts one arm behind her back, leans on her cane and begins to walk into the door while the plates fold back into place shutting her inside.

"Wake up Thanatos. There is much work to be done"

... "Acknowledged, system reset engaged. Welcome home Apexis"

((too scared to RP... yet too curious to not interact... what do i doooo!))

The arakkoa walks forwards into the room. Fog clearing reveals that the room is shaped as a huge metallic sphere with a long bridge connecting at the center. Wherein the bulbous head of an ancient Orc prophet kept alive through a combination of stasis fields and temporal stabilisers. The bird hobbles across the bridge. Grinning as she stares at the enslaved prophet. Arriving before the suspended cranium she stops. Reaches into her robes and pulls out a small humming crystal. Looking into the face of the Orc, she places the crystal gently into a claw like cradle and smiles. The machine hums to life churning out billowing clouds of steam. Frost begins to creep across the bridge, the super compressed gasses fueling the machine freezing all the touch. Coating the Arakkoa in a thin layer of ice.

"Temporal stasis at seventy five percent. Mind shackle subject three five one one eight seven five ready for questioning" The metallic voice echoes throughout the room. The Arakkoa smiles. "Excellent. Brings us pleasure to see that our friend is still holding up yes" Pulling a large lever beside her, the Arakkoa watches as he Prophet's eyes roll back into its head babbling in some incoherent tongue. The gasses continue to pump into the chamber. Sitting down the Arakkoa listens to the Orc and fades out of consciousness as the ice filling the sphere entombs her entirely.

"Link established, interrogation commencing" Booms the disembodied voice. The words shake the chamber causing frost to fall from the ceiling like and eerie snow and silence befalls the darkness. Save the quiet shattering of frost fall.

(( Don't worry Rodie, i'll bring this to Stonard soon >:3 ))

((Damn Rood--I'm on pins and needles. Tenterhooks even!))

She stood firm atop the dunes. Wind tearing at her robes. She felt the intense heat of the nearby star and when she looked up its overwhelming light commanded the sky from horizon to horizon. Soon, very soon its life would come to an end.

"Not good" she spoke to herself and frowned as she wrapped a tattered cloth over her face and scurried down the dune, sand trailing off into the wind as she descended, cane keeping her balance.

Squinting into the distance she could just barely make out the twisted shapes of some alien mountain range. Cane reaching out finding its purchase in the sand and begins in the direction of those distant Mountains.

Eyes fixed on the landward horizon, spiked with arid crumbling peaks. The Arakkoa pressed on through dunes large enough to engulf entire settlements. Something was not right, out of place. The Orc's mind was deteriorating. Even now she could only just hear the songs carry on the sand choked wind.

She stops for just a moment, catching her breath and stares of into the distance. Taking another step forwards the sand beneath her begins to give way. She moves to react, to leap back but old bones to not a nimble bird make. She tumbles to the ground, cane flung from her grasp as the dune engulfs itself. Panicked and clawing for something besides sand to hold her in place, she watches as the ground opens up from under the dune. Sand and rock debris falling into a black abyss. Before soon after, she and the dune she used to be standing on did the same.

Deep beneath the dunes, dimly lit by glowing spires of light descending from the surface hundreds of meters above her. She lays there in the sand, half buried and broken. Far from what she had sought out to accomplish. Slowly she raises her old bony claw into the air and waits. Soon thereafter, her cane flies out of the darkness and into her grasp once again. Slowly she stands brushing herself off for a moment before rolling her shoulders and starting off into the darkness.

She thought that, in his travels he comes to a bridge made entirely of Bones. Before crossing he writes a letter to his mother: Dear mother, guess what? The ape accidentally bit off one of his hands while eating a banana. Just now I am standing at the foot of a bone bridge. I shall be crossing it shortly. I don't know if I shall find hills and valleys made of flesh and the other side, or simply constant night, villages of sleep. The ape is scolding me for not teaching him better. I am letting him wear my pith helmet for consolation. The bridge looks like some skeletal reconstruction you would see on display in the archives. The ape is looking at the stump of his wrist and scolding me again. I offer him another banana and he gets very furious, as though I'd insulted him. Tomorrow we cross the bridge. I'll write to you from the other side if I can; if not, look for a sign.

Looking up into the slowly shifting rays of light above her she sighs. Not understanding what he had intended to show to her.

Continuing down tunnel after tunnel Dense fog obscuring her vision she wandered blindly onward. Stopping to look around, things began the take shape. A large spherical room, its walls metallic. Its air cold and stagnant. As she brought her gaze to the mechanism at the chambers center her feathers began to stand on end. Something was missing. The eerie glow of fouled machines had lost their prisoner and danced freely into nothingness.

This was however the least of her concerns for below the twisting light lay a broken lump a feathers and blood. Panicked and confused she stumbles backwards and opens her eyes.

As her vision slowly began to focus sight revealed to her a hooded Orc Clutching a serrated blade tightly in one hand. The hooded Orc looks down at the Arakkoa and spoke in a low guttural voice.

"Hello Mother." "Your time has come."