Lily carefully pressed against the door, silently willing the old hinges not to creak. The door complied, swinging open with only a soft rush of air. The room beyond was dark and the Deathstalker tried very hard not to look too closely at the lumpy shapes on the bed.
The fireplace contained only smoldering embers, but even these were enough to cast weird twisted shadows over the far wall. Lily skirted around the edge of the room, hugging the wall and keeping her peripheral vision fixed on the two still forms entwined on the bed. Thinking back to the tour of the little house on her first day, she kept to the right wall--Insein's side.
The rogue paused, scanning the room for movement. Satisfied that the two Forsaken on the bed were asleep she inched closer to the nightstand where her quarry lay. As she neared the nightstand one of the shapes on the bed shifted and she froze in place, her stuttering heart hammering. Naxevo murmured something and rolled over, snuggling against the pillows and his fiancée. Minutes scraped by, and Lily finally relaxed when the warlock was still. She reached out, slowly, painfully slowly, until her claws closed around the prize.
The tome in hand, the bodyguard took a half-step back and turned her back on the bed. She left with as much care as she entered, freezing at every slightest movement from the lovers behind her. Only when she pulled the bedroom door softly closed did she fully relax, slipping the journal out from under her arm.
Lily hurried quietly downstairs and over to the fire, sinking down to the hearth with Insein’s journal in her lap. She leaned back against the warm stones of the fireplace and cracked the book carefully open from the back. Flicking a few pages backward, she began to read the most recent entries by the dancing light of the fire.
Accounts of battles, recounts of interactions with that night elf P.O.W., heart-wrenching tales of personal struggle, blah blah blah... Lily skipped entire pages, skimming over the entries with ever-waning patience. She reached the last page and snapped the book shut with disdain, then paused. The Deathstalker opened the back cover and flipped back to read over the last entry again, noting the strange tics peppering the page.
Lily frowned. The rest of the magus’s handwriting was neat and crisp; this page had jagged capital letters marring every few words. Something crawled on the back of her neck and arms and Lily scrambled up to retrieve paper and pen. She sat down and reread the final entry slowly, tracing under each line with a claw and scribbling every misplaced capital letter on the spare sheet.
The hair on her arms stood on end. She carefully set down the journal and pen and stared wide-eyed at the completed message.
The Bosses needed to see this.
W A D E I N T O R E A P T H E I R S O U L S A N D D E S P A I R
N O T H I N G W I L L S A V E Y O U I N S E I N
N O O N E W I L L S E E T H I S
Y O U A R E M I N E A N D I W I L L H A V E T H E I R S O U L S A S W E L L
Y O U A R E A F O O L T O R E S I S T
G I V E I N T O M E
G I V E I N T O M A L I C E A N D W E W I L L A L L H A V E T E A I N H E L L A G A I N