Lord Aron tried hard to ignore the curious and almost pleased looks Jerold was giving him. He couldn't help but feel as though he was part of an experiment. After insisting that Jelune remain at the back of the cell, Jerold passed the yellow gaseous vial quickly by Lord Aron's face and the next thing he knew, he was in some sort of laboratory tied to a table.

He immediately began to perspire as he saw Jerold and another undead man standing over him, preparing something off to the side. "You lied!" He struggled to free himself. He was ignored. "Free me this instant! I did not agree to this!"

"You don't even know what 'this' is." Jerold didn't bother looking at him as he responded. He and the other forsaken spoke to each other in their gutteral language. Lord Aron continued to struggle against the ropes. Fear gripped at his heart and he tried desperately to hold it back.

The two forsaken ended their conversation and turned to him. The newer forsaken held what looked like a stylus, only, it had a very sharp point, almost needle-like. An inkwell with an odd liquid inside was set on the table. "I'd suggest you stay still. If I mess up, I'll only have to start again."

"What- What are you doing? I demand you stop!" He wished his voice sounded more authoritative instead of panic-filled. He struggled again.

Cold hands held his shoulders as Jerold stood over him at the head of the table. "You agreed to this deal, Boxley."

"I agreed to the poison and antidote!"

"Yes. And did you really think I would allow you to go out and recruit a band of mercenaries to rescue your friends? This is a precaution, nothing more." Jerold's voice was attempting to soothe him, but his words only made Aron want to get up and run. He wasn't one of those brave heroes that wander the lands. Still, he forced himself to try and stay still and took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

Jerold got an odd look on his face as he watched Aron breathe. This did not make the nobleman feel any better. It was as though the undead man was fascinated with watching him breathe. "What are you going to do to me?" His muscles were rock hard as he tried to brace himself for...well...anything.

"Gavor here is a warlock and a scribe. He works for me from time to time. He's going to combine one of his curses with a new ink he had developed called Shadowsoul Ink. Using this ink and his magic, he'll put inscriptions on your throat and hands to prevent you from telling anyone about us, your friends, or your situation."

"You- You could have told me this before I agreed to the deal."

Gavor said something in gutterspeak and Jerold replied in common. "Indeed. He was quite willing to take a poison for the sake of his friends. But when it comes to a little pain...tch...such cowardice. What would his friends think of him now?" He nodded his head towards Gavor who began carving his needle-stylus into the back of Aron's right hand.

Lord Aron hissed in pain and he tried to think of something else in hopes of forgetting the pain, but the more the warlock inscribed, the more pain he felt. Finally, he had to gasp, "At least give me something to dull the pain!" A soft chuckle was the only reply. After only five minutes of silent suffering, he could no longer hold back a whimper. Tears of pain fell unbidden from his eyes. The whimper turned into an occasional moan or cry.

Fortunately, the warlock was efficient in his job. Half an hour later, he was done. Lord Aron's hands and base of the neck were red and swollen where the ink had entered. A rag covered in his blood, lay on his chest. As Lord Aron recovered from the painful experience, Jerold rubbed a pasty concoction into the inscriptions. Another ten minutes later, the swelling had gone down, and the ink of the inscriptions had begun to disappear.

"Time to test it." Jerold stepped back, addressing Aron. "Tell Gavor that you drank poison."

Lord Aron wanted to do no such thing. But he was also aware that time was ticking away on the poison in his body. "I dra- " Lord Aron began to cough as his throat suddenly constricted of it's own accord.

"Good. Good. Now, write down that your friends are in trouble." Jerold put a quill in Aron's bound hand and slipped a piece of parchment underneath.

After waiting until he could breathe easier, Lord Aron complied. He felt a slight burning on his hand as he tried to write without seeing the parchment, but succeeded in writing his message ...or so he had thought. Jerold held up the paper with a satisfactory grunt. It showed only gibberish.

"I think we are done here. You may now go." Gavor began to undo the straps holding his wrists. Jerold was quick with the yellow vial. Lord Aron had no time to even get up before his mind went blank.

…

Kirlothenin let out a string of curses in Thalassian. The only light in the tunnel came from the lantern near the head of the skeletal horse. He heard Adam let out his own expletives as he came to his senses once more. How the fel did that forsaken get the best of them? He tried to calm himself, but he was too angry. Instead, he let out his frustration on the bars of the cage, shaking them hard. They didn't budge- not that he expected them to.

But it was enough to get rid of some of the rage within. He finally was able to close his eyes and attempt to meditate in order to calm himself more. He needed his wits about him if he were to escape.

"So you're just going to sit there doing nothing?" Adam's voice was scalding.

Kirlothenin kept his eyes closed. "I am doing something. I'm meditating. I suggest you do the same until you calm down." He heard Adam growl and something hit the floor of the cell, but silence after that. Kirlothenin opened one eye to glance at him. The rogue sat against the bars with his arms crossed. He wasn't meditating, but Kirlothenin believed he was attempting to calm himself. This was good. They would need to work together and hot tempers were definitely not needed. Kirlothenin closed his eye once more.

They had traveled for half an hour before he heard the human move. The mage opened his eyes to see Adam looking at the lock on the cage door. He watched with interest, knowing rogues could pick locks. But Adam had already said earlier that his lock picking kit had been taken from him. After a few minutes, Adam sat back and sighed.

They were silent for awhile. Kirlothenin glanced at the lone forsaken by the horse's head. All he knew was that she was female, and a mage. That meant their escape was all the more difficult if she had any skill. He'd dealt with other mages before. But not without his magic. He glanced at the shackles once more. So, his original assumption had been correct. The inscriptions on the shackles must be preventing him from casting any spells.

Still, his magic was not the only skill he had. It was time he put his other abilities to use. "You do realize that you'll be in trouble for holding a blood elf." He addressed the forsaken in orcish. There was no response. She didn't even turn her head. "Once they see me, they'll have to let me go. The Reagent Lord will not stand for his people to be treated this way."

There was no response. He stared at the forsaken's back trying to find a foothold for manipulation. Either she was good at ignoring him, or she was deaf. She suddenly stopped and he thought maybe he had succeeded in getting her attention. But she continued to ignore him as she moved towards what looked like a wall. Muttering a spell in her own gutterspeak language, he watched as a portion of the wall disappeared.

Bright sunlight poured into the cave, blinding him for a moment. He shut his eyes from the pain of his iris' contracting so swiftly. After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes again, letting them adjust to the light. The cage lurched forward as the horse moved again.

They exited the cave onto a small hill. Kirlothenin looked around, trying to see anything he might recognize. A path lead the way down the hill to a dilapidated road not too far away. Pale and sickly-looking trees were scattered here and there. The weather was cooler than in Moonglade, possibly due to the mossy overhang preventing much of the sun's penetration of the forest. But the most eerie part of this forest wasn't the diseased trees. It was the silence, broken only by the occasional howl in the distance.

"Silverpine."

"What?"

Kirlothenin glanced at Adam. "We're in Silverpine Forest." This didn't bode well. He estimated that they would reach Undercity by the end of the day.

The skeletal horse and cage descended the hill and Kirlothenin glanced back to see they had exited what appeared to be an abandoned and collapsed mine.

Now that there was brighter light, Adam took a look at the cage door once more, trying to find a weak spot. Not finding any, he checked Kirlothenin's shackles. It was a little difficult with all the bumps from the cage on the uneven ground. But things smoothed out quickly after they reached the road.

Kirlothenin held his wrists still so Adam could get a good look at the locks. As he did so, his fel-green eyes glanced up just in time to see what looked like a cross between a giant and an ogre. It was an ettin pulling a large contraption quickly along the road. An undead driver sat on the contraption to help encourage the ettin along. They apparently hadn't expected to see another vehicle on the road. The ettin's face twisted into a look of surprise as he tried to come to a fast stop, but failed and tripped over his own feet.

"Watch out!" Kirlothenin barely had time to get a warning out to Adam as he grabbed the bars of the cage to brace himself for the impact. The ettin's huge body tumbled forwards and twisted to the side as he tried to avoid the small cage and horse. The contraption he was pulling continued it's forward motion and rammed into Kirlothenin's and Adam's cage, making it roll over from the impact.

When the dust settled, Kirlothenin examined himself. He was bruised, but no broken bones. He glanced at Adam who had a cut across his cheekbone. He looked otherwise uninjured. The two of them immediately examined the cage to see if it had broken, but stopped when the ettin stood up and towered over them angrily.

A voice spoke in gutterspeak and the ettin froze for a moment before leaning down and picking up the cage, setting it on it's wheels. Unfortunately, the bars of the cage remained intact. The forsaken that was 'driving' the ettin and contraption began to argue with the forsaken mage who had been taking them to Undercity.

After about five minutes of arguing, the ettin picked up one side of the cage, revealing how one wheel had been broken. For the first time, the female forsaken spoke to them in common. "We go to the Sepulcher for repairs. It only means a delay of the inevitable for you two."

…

Maggie stepped out of the moonbeam portal and quickly made her way back to SI:7 headquarters. Things weren't looking very good. In Moonglade, she had met Ileeya's father, Dormir. He had been upset that his daughter and her guests, including Adam, Kristie, and Amy were missing. After looking the place over, the only clues they had found were a piece of dirty fabric, some footprints indicating at least two humanoids, and a musty smell within the house.

She had informed him of Baros' disappearance. Though they weren't sure of a connection between the two, Maggie had returned to Stormwind to follow her only lead, Lord Jorach. Dormir would have the Cenarion Circle check on a cult that Ileeya and someone named Kirlothenin had had troubles with in the past.

Before she had left, she had given him her personal marker, a medallion, ensuring cooperation from SI:7 should he need to find her. For now, she needed to update Renzik on what had happened. Shaw's second-in-command was the only one, aside from herself and Jackson, who knew where Mathias had gone.

After her report was given, Maggie went upstairs to look through the files. She wanted to find out all she could on this Kirlothenin. Ileeya's father had seemed too reticent to talk about him. There was no file in the open files. Maggie returned to Renzik and after telling him why she wanted the information, he disappeared into the confidential file room, returning a few minutes later with the folder in hand.

She wasn't allowed to take the parchments out of the office so she quickly skimmed the file, paying more attention to the parts that were of more interest- and there was definitely some interesting parts in there. But there were also some gaps in there as well. Just how SI:7 had some of this information, she had no idea, but by the time she had finished reading the file, she had decided that she had some questions for Dormir the next time she saw him. She wasn't ready to dismiss him as a suspect as easily as Ileeya's father was.

Now satisfied, Maggie gave the file back to Renzik and took off for the nearest flight master to rent a gryphon. It was time to meet up with Shaw.