Sancha

An autumnal sun leaked through the dusty windows of a small study, lending the room a golden warmth. The walls of the completely circular room are hidden behind bookcases that span from floor to ceiling and heave with important and ancient looking tomes and scrolls. Several crates sit by the bookcases, all of them filled from the solid walls of text around them and to one side sits a desk, it's surface covered with various instruments of an arcane nature, along with an inkwell and many pieces of parchment. Along with the desk is a grand looking chair, out of place in the dusty, humble room. Made from an expensive wood of fair colour, varnished to the point where even in the softened light it still manages to gleam and upholstered in a deep rich red. Within the chair is an elf, slight, red hair falling about her shoulders and back, skin a pale pink, features arranged in the average prettiness most elves had, and wearing a faded blue robe. The elf didn't seem to care about the luxury she was sat upon, bent as she is over a piece of parchment, writing over it easily with a red feathered quill, occasionally looking up at the instruments, maybe reaching out to adjust something before dipping her quill in the inkwell and continuing on.

A loud knock on the door makes her jump in surprise, she frowns down at the parchment and begins dabbing at it with a piece of ink stained cloth.
"Come" she announced irritably, not looking up as the door opened.
A man walked into the room, another elf, blonde hair tied into a tight ponytail. He was dressed in the finery that a high station provides. He peered around the room and sniffed in distaste.
"Caeta, I have something I wish to speak to you about" His tone suggested he wanted her immediate attention, and now. She obediently stopped dabbing away at the mistake and looked up, swallowing down her irritation, she'd probably have to start the report over.
"Yes, of course magistrate, what can I help you with?"
"The talks with our potential new allies are going well. The offer by them to turn their alchemical expertise towards a way to ease or cure the addiction has gone through. As you volunteered to be a part of the project I'm informing you that you'll be leaving for Lordaeron first thing tomorrow morning." Caeta went wide eyed
"Tomorrow? B-but, I have this study to finish! Magistrix Daenala has had me working on this for months!" The magistrate arched an eyebrow.
"She has already been informed, leave your notes on it, another has been arranged to finish your work." He motioned to the crates. "I trust these are for the project?" She nodded, friends had kept her informed of the progress of the talks, and it had seemed wise to start preparing. Still, she hadn't expected to be leaving so soon.
"Very good, pack what belongings you wish and I suggest you get a good nights rest" With that he turned and left the study, leaving Caeta reeling. She sat in silence for a minute, taking time to absorb everything that had just happened then rushed out of the room.

(Continues...soon?)

Sancha

Caeta had been awoken by a Cavalier commander of some sort. His demeanour had suggested to her that he felt himself more important then his rank should allow and too stupid to be of any constructive use, a lieutenant, she had decided. She had been rushed sleepily out of the tower she had called home since the invasion of Silvermoon. There was barely a chance to look around the village, which had managed to escape all but a few small scourge raiding parties before she was hurried into a hawkstrider pulled carriage that shot off the moment she was inside. The road was rough, and the speed they travelled at didn't help when her stomach started protesting.

Soon however there were called out commands and voices, the carriage slowed and the bumping around smoothed out rather considerably. Caeta pulled back the delicate shades of the carriage and peered out. The land around her was starting to look grey and drab, it was still early morning but the sun was disappearing behind a thick, dark, unnatural haze.
"We'll be entering the plaguelands soon m'lady" Caeta peered up at the armoured cavalier that had cantered up upon seeing her head poke out of the window. He smiled at her.
"I'm afraid, this will be the last of the sun you'll see until you return, the magics of the lich king darken the skies across all the former kingdom of Lordaeron"
Caeta sighed "Great".
She turned her head to look back towards where' they'd come and was mildly surprised to see that her carriage was at the head of a convoy of people. But of course it made sense, she thought, these would all be assistants, arcanists and technicians, volunteers like her. Something seemed off with them, and it took a few minutes of gazing at them to put her finger on it. They were all so sullen and defeated. There were close to a hundred of them she guessed, and they all looked so, so dismal. It must be fear of the plaguelands, and the waning sun Caeta decided, maybe a few had, had their arms twisted into going. She leant back into the cabin and sighed heavily. Three days, three days of travelling at this pace, with no real company and through undead infested lands before they'd reach Undercity. She reached for a compiled set of notes on the forsaken that she'd been provided with, as she'd be as much an ambassador as anything. Politics made her head spin but it was worth it to be part of this project. Caeta peered out of the window and caught the cavalier glancing at her. The elf smiled to herself and started reading the notes. Well, maybe there'd be some company after all.

((Having some difficulty writing this, which is odd...as I know the full story in me head))

Sancha

The entire journey had ended up being tiresome and unpleasant. It had proven to be nothing but large periods of boredom, interspersed with several minutes of panic, fear and violence while the next scourge attack was driven off. Caeta was a mage of some talent, and had joined in the fighting, despite the initial protests of the idiot lieutenant. Throwing magical fire from behind the defensive line of armoured bodies, the sickening wet crunch of a connecting fireball disgusting her yet feeding something visceral within her all at once. Sadly the cavalier who had shown interest in her had died in one of the first attacks, too eager to prove his worth to her maybe and she had been left with nothing but her notes and the expectation of the next attack to keep her company. Of the hundred or so elves that had been travelling with them, only around fifty remained by the time they reached Undercity. An amount clearly more befitting the number of guards assigned to them it seemed.

The column of people marching behind her had given Caeta much food for thought, the disregard with which they were treated, the seeming lack of magical talent among any of them with which to defend themselves. They seemed to lack supplies and a few she'd had a proper look at had seemed quite unsavoury.

The elf pinched the bridge of her nose and gave out a jaw breaking yawn. She was here now though. The forsaken were not what she was expecting, then again she wasn't sure quite what she had expected of them,they seemed so, well human, but colder, calculating and altogether menacing. After the initial introductions to the appropriate dignitaries she had made her apologies and explained that she had not slept much during the journey and direly required rest. They had insisted she be inoculated first, explaining that many unpleasant illnesses and diseases stalked the corridors and halls of the subterranean city, she accepted and was then shown to her quarters. The city was a cold place but a mercifully large fire warmed the room and an even more mercifully soft bed awaited her and she felt herself sink into the soft mattress as she collapsed on top of it, barely having time to kick off her shoes before sleep consumed her.

Sancha

Several weeks passed, and Caeta found herself well adjusted to life in the Undercity. Her nose had gotten used to the curious ambient odour of earth, damp and rot. She missed the sun more then anything but with her mind kept busy with work her homesickness was minimal. The project itself still made her stomach knot with excitement when she thought about it. Seeing the Forsakens skills with chemicals and herbs firsthand had been an experience, they were simply so far beyond Silvermoons alchemists that she felt like a young novice when they explained to her some of the things they were doing. Caeta had found herself useful regardless, her skills with arcane tools and application of magics to mundane things worked well in tandem with the apothecaries, which gained her respect and they made many breakthroughs in those weeks.

During her wanderings and explorations of the city, Caeta had befriended a married couple whom had been torn apart by the plague and found each other again purely by chance. When they were living they had spent lots of time among the elves, and the husband, Jolanus had approached her unbelieving when he had seen her wandering the city. They had asked her many questions regarding the elves over meals and drinks, and she in turn had many to ask of the Forsaken. They were kind people, though they possessed that same uncanniness as most of their kin. She was reminded of the people back home, who would talk with such zeal about Prince Kael'Thas, it was like an uneasy underlying intensity.

It was towards the end of the fifth week when Caeta had begun to feel unwell, she found herself getting dizzy and lightheaded. The apothecaries told her she had been overworking herself, and in truth it was difficult to keep up with them as they required so much less rest then her. When her condition deteriorated further over the following days, she was confined to bed and a priest would come in occasionally to check on her. She quickly developed a fever, a horrific nausea and her body ached dully, pain spiking if she moved to suddenly. The priest eventually agreed to aid her into a deep sleep and she felt the pain dull as his magics fogged her mind and she slipped under.

Sancha

Caeta awoke, but found her eyelids to heavy to open easily. She tried to lift a hand upto them to rub away the deep sleep but found she couldn't. As her mind quickly started to awaken she realised she was lying naked and uncovered on what felt like stone, she tried her other arms and legs and felt the cool touch of metal bindings. Panic quickly rose in her chest, and finally she managed to prise her eyes open, letting out a yelp at the sight they brought her. She was in one of the labs she'd be shown in her tour of the city, but not one she'd worked in. Her eyes examined the devices around her, and in horror her eyes followed the paths of the various pipes and tubes connected to them until she was looking down at herself. She was connected to them! The sight brought the sensation of their intrusion to her mind and it told her that there were many that she couldn't see. Caeta started to wriggle and struggle against the bonds in a panic, sobbing and telling herself it was just a bad dream.
"Ah, Miss Sunstrand your awake, good" She froze and looked around for the source of the voice.
"The other subjects started expiring so quickly that we felt it neccessary. It is a pity, you could've proven to be of use for awhile yet, but your leaders insisted we go ahead and that delay was impossible." Her eyes could only make out a clawed, pallid hand resting upon a lever.
"Pl-plh-please...d-dh-don't, l...let me go..pl..." She was interrupted by a dry, slightly manic cackle.
"No, dear, that isn't going to happen. This is the reason you were brought here after all. You were the only person of noble blood that volunteered I was told. You should be a much more interesting subject then the rabble your leaders rounded up"
The hand pulled the lever down and the machines around her bubbled and clunked into life. Tubing twitched as chemicals were pumped into them, or as they began to fill with her life blood, as they drew it from her. Her eyes slammed shut and she screamed.

It was only the first of many experiments she would be put through. For years the apothecaries ran test after test, experiment after experiment on her. Eventually using her in other projects, such as researching into ways of creating a race of servants and slaves through a mix of alchemy and shadow fuelled mind spells. They were disappointed to find this only created a separate personality. They named it 'Stutterer' due to the fact it was so meek and nervous around people it would stutter uncontrollably. They had it serve them meals and run errands when Caeta was not needed in the labs and it was deemed a partial success. Another project had a similar effect, creating a further personality that fed off instincts and aggression. They had to teach and aid her in locking it away as it soon started to become the dominant personality and had managed to severely injure several apothecaries, again it was deemed a partial success.

Eventually the time came for the next stage of the project. To see if the subject could survive in the real world. so they released a confused Caeta into the world, with strict instructions to return once a week for on going treatments.

(( Finally done...and probably needs alot of proof reading but still, yay! ))

Kaz

\o/

There is nothing in the whole WoW I hate more than the Undercity Apothecaries... You just give me one more reason to!
Poor little Caeta...

Good story!

<3

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I'm hawt. Really.