Autumn 4994, 04 Aoimoth
"Of all the incompetent..." Archmage Shaloon searched the lab for something to throw, and -finding nothing in range- roared her frustration to the stone ceiling.
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She reached for the mirror, wrenching it from its hangings. The man showing in it waved his hands desperately until the image faded, leaving only her reflection. Shaloon threw the mirror into the corner, and the subject she'd been attempting to convince to cooperate before the call screamed as shards of glass rained down on her head.
"Was the news really so bad that you had to destroy my mirror?" Her partner, Archmage Yarna, asked sweetly from the door, "Are they still wasting so many precious samples on who knows what that they can't spare any for the rest of us?"
Shaloon snarled, thrusting her arm out to her side and summoning a line of smoke that solidified into a black-bladed sword.
"Going to pick them up yourself?" Yarna asked. The subject in the corner tried to crawl away along the wall, towards the door and the significantly calmer of the two mad Warlocks.
Shaloon growled, slashing the cowering woman's throat, "They lost him! The Earthwyrm is gone!" Shaloon shrieked in draconic.
Yarna sighed, waving a lazy hand towards the woman slowly bleeding to death on her floor, "And so you waste yet more of my subjects? Seriously Shaloon, if you're going to do that, at least get a bucket first. We can distill this Sorcerer down to make up for the deficiency in samples."
Sweeping into the room, Yarna past the dying woman, who reached a shaking hand towards the Warlock's robes. She was unable to grasp them, valuable blood draining out her mouth and down her open throat. Yarna reached the cupboard without looking back, humming as she shifted through its contents -looking for a large enough bowl to salvage at least some of the coveted samples leaking onto her floor. They would need them more than ever now.
Shaloon dropped her sword, taking in angry hissing breaths as it dissolved back into smoke. Grabbing the subject by the hair, Shaloon dragged the woman across the floor and dropped her head into the bowl her college provided. "Incompetent, all of them, how could they-"
Yarna interrupted with a loud "Tch," smirking as she mused mockingly, "And who was it that lost the Firewyrm first? Seven years ago, if I remember correctly..."
Shaloon clenched her fists, barely resisting summoning her sword again. Yarna just waved a dismissive hand at her, "It is an inconvenience, nothing more. Now you will not only be able to hunt as you prefer but will be required to do so."
Shaloon closed her eyes, breathing slow and steady. The heady aroma of iron from the lost sample now filling the bowl helped calm her temper. "At least tell me Arver and Briman have actually found something and aren't just taking a pleasure cruise across the grasslands?"
"More than something," Yarna answered, then shifted to draconic for no apparent reason, "They claim it's a Chosen..."
"A Chosen..." Shaloon answered in kind, leaning against the wall and kicking the corpse as she crossed her ankles, "Perhaps today is not such a waste after all."
"Good news indeed, but it's no guarantee of success. I would rather not put the world's future in the claws of a pair of dead gods. Would you?" Yarna asked, her voice returning to its sweet innocence from before.
Shaloon shook her head, finally returning the woman's smile. "Of course not." Besides, as Yarna had said, now Shaloon could spend her time hunting as preferred.
