angryfistofgod | OPEN POST

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OPEN POST

OPEN POST

Edited 2016-09-20 05:40 (UTC)

[ooc| takes place after this. ]

Originally, Khadgar had only wanted to stay a few hours, but here he was two weeks later still searching – well not, searching-searching he had a very good idea where it was – for the place where the Forsaken were manufacturing the Plague and well, destroy it. And his other unofficial duty of watching Genn Greymane run around like a chicken with his head cut off. Or maybe just a very small dog that liked to growl and yap when things were not going his way, either way, it had the Archmage worried over him.

They had no way of truly telling what was on that arrow and if it was truly out of the white Worgen's system. That concerned him, especially when Greymane refused – abhorred to stay still when his men were fighting against the Forsaken. The nursemaid, the poor lady, and himself had conversed over the way that Genn utterly lacked the ability to sit in one place at all. He didn't take to resting well, Khadgar noted one day, though much the same could be said about himself as he was horrible at listening to other people's ideas and taking them as anything less than a vague insult.

Genn Greyman was a king and Khadgar knew that most kings did not like sitting around and waiting for things to happen, that everything was above themselves and they bore that weight graciously. At least the kings Khadgar had come to respect over the years did. Genn lacked, much like Varian had, the ability to slow down and allow someone to handle that burden with them and Khadgar was obviously fascinated by the headstrong male.

From his time spent in Greywatch, the Archmage had come to see the depth of the scar that Varian's death had left on the Worgen and perhaps, he identified with it and noted to himself that they may have that in common. Pining for something that never could happen or maybe, Genn had gotten lucky. Khadgar was never truly sure of where that emotions truly laid.

He had spent one night simply watching Greymane and found himself missing Medivh once more. Even more, he was reminded of the trick the Legion had played, had used his own adoration for the Last Guardian against him. He had hoped, always hoped. It stung while he thought of it and when he had disposed of another batch of the Plague the next day, he thought of the green eyes that simply implored him to be loyal and want to take care of him. He had drank too much whine that night to get rid of the rest of those thoughts, as they had no reason to be in his head with the current threat at their finger tips.

All that he had come to realize, after all of two weeks, is that he needed to make Genn rest and allow others to handle the rest of things. He came up with a ploy and well, if it came down to it... he'd simply cheat and use his magic to keep him still and resting.

Khadgar had come up with other ideas, though his sleeping drought had been sniffed out and that had been a ruckus that he had to quickly diffuse before there was a horde of angry Worgen's knocking at the Forsaken's battleships in arms. He had also tried knocking him out, but that had started a scuffle that Khadgar was still nursing a bruised rib from – it wasn't broken, the nurse was told to focus on Genn as it would heal in due time.

He was prepared this time, truly prepared, and was quick about cornering Genn against a wall to show exactly how serious he was. Genn wouldn't listen to him due to the fact that he was not seen as the alpha – oh no, he learned early that Varian was that, but having more information now than he did then – and the only way to remedy that would be to challenge him in some way.

It's not like he was a small mage by any means, he was broad shouldered and tall, but was not a warrior in any sense of the word, unless you counted Mage.

“You need to rest,” he hissed out, keeping his hands clamped onto Genn's wrists and staring at him with his sharp blue eyes, careful to watch for any sort of reaction that would need him to flee by foot – he had left Atiesh in his own small room, which he regretted now that he thought about it, oh well no time for that.

"Perhaps you should heed your own advice." came the gruff answer, his own blue eyes narrowing at the man as he tested just how tight the grip was over his wrists. He could easily get free, but that would require an exertion of strength that might do more harm than good.

As far as he was concerned, he was well recovered from the injuries sustained from the Banshee Queen. Thus perfectly capable of returning to active duty in dealing with keeping Stormheim from falling to either the Legion or the Forsaken. At least until he was given orders to do otherwise.

He wasn't entirely certain just why the Archmage had decided to linger around Graywatch, but perhaps he could turn it to his advantage. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, after all. Khadgar needed the rest far more than he certainly did, he knew how working magics took a toll on a person. Given how much the Archmage had used his since this war began and how little it would appear that he rested...

Well, he knew what those symptoms suggested. He should given he was guilty of doing the same, not only once but going on twice now. "When was the last time you slept for more than a couple hours?"

Khadgar's mouth dropped open a small bit as he had his valorous endeavours of getting Genn to rest thrown back in his face and turned around on him. The questioning on when the last time he slept more than a few hours only served to throw him off enough to loosen his grip on the man's wrists and furrow his brows deeply.

His bright blue eyes searched Genn's face for a real reason why he was suddenly concerned about how he was fairing and then relaxed as he realized that there was truly no threat or warning of another Dread Lord to worry about. It was just Genn attempting to do one of two things, one use the chance he would say no to resting as well to his advantage or he was honestly a little worried.

Sadly, before he softened the look upon the old mage's face had been hard, scrutinizing and almost wary. There were flickers of a brighter blue flashing through them and well, he honestly looked like he may attack.

Though suddenly he closed his eyes and attempted to reason with the Worgen and make him see that there were two different situations at play. More importantly, they could not be compared as easily as the Gilnean King seemed to think so.

"My own personal resting habits are besides the point I was trying to make."

He clicked his tongue and thought of the worried Champion who had accompanied Genn on his attack of Slyvanas. The poor thing was wrought with worry, a human priest with her pretty black hair and soft lines in the corners of her mouth. The Champion - he did not know her name, though she never complained over that the few times he had to read her name.

She told him of how she had a feeling the poison that Greymane had been struck with was different from the normal sort that dripped off of the Banshee Queen's arrows. He hadn't died, simply turned back to his human form and she made both him and the nurse who had tended to him worry that there would be a more lasting effect - or even just something nastier that would pop up from laying dormant.

"The poison you were hit with was something different, from what the Champion said and if so we do not know if you'll drop from anything. You are an important leader of the Alliance and you need to rest."

Surely that would do it, though the loud voice in his head that sounded an awful lot like Garona at timed told him that Genn was a warrior through and through. That would mean he would not take advice on any needed rest and simply keep pushing on. Somehow, he doubted Greymane would appreciate him referring to his actions as Orc-like, though he would meant it as a backhanded compliment.

"However, if it gets you to rest... I'll join you for part of it. I have to destroy the Plague and attempt to figure out which Forsaken would be the Leader in Slyvanas's absence. So it will be brief."

No, he probably wouldn't. Khadgar had too much to do and there were not enough hours in a day for him to handle what he could and manage more than a few power naps here and there.

His own eyes narrowed slightly more at the conflicting signals that Khadgar was sending, mental hackles rising at the hint of possible hostility. Even after it had seemingly vanished, he remained wary and ready to break free in order to defend himself if that hostility became more than a mere suggestion.

When the poisoned arrow was brought up, he gave a quiet huff. "You worry overmuch. No wonder my medic favors you." The words were spoken mostly sotto voce, more as an observation than anything else. The different poison was the reason he'd allowed the medic to continue fussing over him long after he'd considered himself out of danger from it.

"Your champions could destroy that Plague if you told them where it was. They would also attract less attention to themselves while doing so as well. As for the leader, I suspect it would be that damnable Blightcaller."

See, Archmage? He fully knows how to delegate things. If he's going to be badgered to rest he's going to work to make certain that Khadgar rests as well. "I'll be holding you to that promise of resting with me."

Edited 2016-09-21 20:41 (UTC)

Khadgar's lips pressed together in a thin line when Greymane had proposed a much more subtle method of handling the plague and Blightcaller being the leader of it. Of course, he wanted to refute it and point out that they'd be more likely to cease if Khadgar had been the one to be there, but somehow he doubted the Worgen would come to agree with him. After all, he seemed very insistent on Khadgar resting if he had to.

“I said I would rest part of the time,” he pointed out, though he had a feeling that like with most things it would be a futile argument against the other, “not completely. I have work to do that does demand my attention.”

“I worry because you seem to be in a rush to follow after Varian,” Khadgar finally said, replying to the first comment about the medic favouring him for his clear dislike of the man's foolhardy charge into everything when those around him truly didn't know if there was more of a danger.

A sigh expelled itself from the Archmage and he let his shoulders slump as he lifted his hands from Genn's wrists and then used one to rub the bridge of his nose. Things were happening and he didn't think he truly had the time to rest because Greymane was petty and seemed to want to make him suffer from the idleness along with him.

"I doubt the world will see its end just because you got more than two hours sleep." He replied as he moved to loosely take hold of one of Khadgar's arms and turn him toward the building that currently held the cot he'd been using.

"You can stop worrying then. I have no plans on joining Varian anytime soon. I've survived this long, I still have plenty of miles left to go before I can join Varian in his rest."

After all, he now had to look after Varian's son in addition to his people.

Khadgar had to wonder exactly when Genn had decided to inflict rest upon him. Though, he began to suspect that the old wolf found him sleeping at the desk in the barracks more than once. A sigh escaped him and he wanted to refute the idea that nothing could happen in two hours, but saw it as an useless argument that the other would not take.

The hand on his arm and the fact that they were going toward the room that both he and the medic had decided to put aside for the king's rest had him only momentarily stumbling as a confused look exploded upon his face. There was only one cot in that room and there was not enough room in the small shack for a second cot, at least if one wanted to be able to walk around.

"You plan on forcing me to rest by making me share your cot?"

It was ridiculous, but the confused look gave way to a more amused one while he chose his next words carefully.

"Are you simply lonely enough to resort to a slumber party ? I'm sure I could send for your wife."

All the humor was present in the Archmage's voice as he resorted to it as he was rather uncomfortable with the prospect of sharing the cot. Not because he was scared of being bitten in his sleep or something worst, but because he was more than a bit touch deprived and no doubt his body would react unfavorably. He didn't want to need to explain that to Greymane in the least.

The Archmage couldn't remember when the last time he had been so tactile or even received as many touches as he had since he came to Stormheim after hearing the at first dire news on the fate of Genn. At least ones that weren't meant to maim him or from defending him, anyways.

He wasn't sure if he even wanted to share a bed with anyone, platonic or not, in any point in the future.

The thought brought another that was definitely proof he needed sleep as he wondered if Medivh would've let him into his bed or kicked him off of it if he had crawled in when he woke from that one nap. That lead to a different, more intimate image that made the Archmage stumble again right as they were approaching the entrance to the small room.

Khadgar's ears turned red, matching a faint dusting that reached his cheeks and traveled a bit down his neck.

His body was reacting because he was tired, he surmised sagely and decided then and there to rest like Genn had decided they both would do.

"I suppose I could do with some sleep," he murmured to the Worgen leader, just loud enough for him to hear.

Khadgar earned a flat look at his attempt at humor, but refraining from responding to it. Yes, it was rather lonely in this land, but that was to be expected, given that in war, people are separated from family and loved ones for lengthy periods of time.

The stumble only make him more convinced that the other man was in desperate need for proper rest. Catnaps were all well and good, but a man couldn't continue on nothing but those for too long. In the end, they'd end up wearing away at a person just as much as a complete lack of sleep did. He wasn't entirely certain what Khadgar went red over, perhaps it was the fact his body was revealing just how tired it actually was.

"Glad to hear you talking sense finally, and don't think you'll be capable of sneaking out on me after I fall asleep."

He had plans to sleep in such a way that such an attempt would be certain to wake him.

The Archmage refrained from pointing out that unless it was on top of him, he could simply just blink out of the small room. Instead, he just nodded slowly at Genn and wondered if he should just accept his fate.

Khadgar's 'problem' that had begun to form, throbbed insistently and he hoped to hell that his idea to keep him still wasn't on top of him. He took some deep breaths and instead focused on something else.

"I'm not sure there is truly a way for you to stop me if I felt like I leaving," Khadgar told him flatly.

Very few things could stop him if he put his mind toward it and he felt that was a strength of his, even if it made him stubborn and refused help at some points. Perhaps he was more like Medivh than he had realized, he was sure Lothar would begin to mother after him like he had over his master if he knew he wasn't sleeping enough.

Something else roved over him and Khadgar's stomach twisted into a knot.

"Thank you," he started and rubbed a hand through his hair, "thank you for caring enough to turn the tables back upon me."

The last time Khadgar had set foot in Karazhan alone, he had been nearly tricked into servitude to the Legion. At least with the Champion who aided him in getting the book on the pillars in the first place, there had been no underhanded tactics and it was a fight of brute force. Subterfuge was something Khadgar didn't think he could handle much more of.

He had moved quickly, during a lull in the Legion's intended fights against the Tower's defenses and well, he found himself once more in the Library that he had taken care of. He was looking for something on the mysterious artifact of the Naaru that the Champion had settled in their class hall for the moment. Velen had fallen into grief and perhaps this great library held another key to what they may need to move forward.

Quiet never unsettled him so much as it did in this instance Khadgar realized as he thumbed through the papers of a book with his mouth drawn tight and Atiesh settled in the crook of his arm. The Legion... He was wary, yes, though he was ready if the Legion decided to try and sway him again with that.... power, if it could truly be called that.

Slowly, the Archmage shifted toward another bookcase, resting Atiesh against it and thumbed over the spines of somewhat singed books. He remembered what had done that, he remembered the argument that had come afterward and how adamant both he and Garona had been that it was actually there.

Sargeras.

He was here again because of that wretched demon and this time, with these champions at the side of the light... well, they would succeed and drive the Legion back and hopefully destroy Sargeras once and for all. He hoped so at least, he did not think he had a third round with the fallen titan in him after all.

His free hand brushed through some of the white hair that began to fall into his face and stopped to pinch the bridge of his nose as he wracked his brain for the book he needed. He knew it was there, it had to be.

It was his folly that his guard was dropped and that he fluttered from shelf to shelf looking, he would be easily snuck up on.

With the Legion in the vicinity of his tower and all the heightened activity around the place as of late, there was no way that he'd not return. Despite his travels in the timeways and in the Nexus, he was still connected to Karazhan. Even after all this time, the energies around the location in the Deadwind Pass pulled at him. Calling him with greater urgency as time went on.

And so, he had to leave his current duties, and move to intercept an even greater threat - and one that hit so much closer to home. Literally.

In the light of the two moons, he arrived in raven form. His shadow moved over the stone of the tower as he circled silently. He was near invisible in the night, as he swooped down to a parapet below, transforming to his original form. He stood for a moment, looking at his surroundings and remembering. The breeze ruffled the feather mantled cloak about his shoulders and he tugged the hood lower. His hand flexed slightly, as he wished that he had his staff with him. He wasn't used to being parted from it, and judging from all the energies he was sensing around here it felt like he would need it.

But he was told he had to keep Atiesh hidden away for now. He just had to trust the bronze's word that disaster might strike if he had brought it. It would be there waiting for him at the Caverns of Time after this mission was done.

With a dismissive wave of the hand - he lowered the old wards protecting the entrance way leading inside, and he entered without needing a light to see. He knew this place all too well. Someone was definitely here. He could feel it. The sense of it grew stronger the deeper he went into the tower. His cloak billowed around him as he made his way down curved stairwells and down hallways. Seeing this place never failed to bring many memories and mixed feelings. It was easy to become lost in them. He would have to cautious and ready for anything.

He eventually arrived in the cavernous library. Admittedly, one of his favorite places in the tower, other than his old observatory. It was musty and in disrepair. Cobwebs were everywhere - and there was a coating of dust on everything. It was sad to see the place in such condition. He shook himself out of his reverie. Memories would have to wait. Someone was here.

He came to a lit area of the library, and a flutter of movement caught his attention as he peered over a rail and looked down below. A white haired figure moved from shelf to shelf, clearly seeking something. And...tidying?

No. It couldn't be.

Medivh leaned over the railing, staring for a few moments. In his minds eye, he could easily see the young 17 year old apprentice moving about the shelves. Organizing and cataloging. The same tilt of the head and the cadence of his steps. And if he was closer he was sure he'd see that same frown of concentration while remembering a tidbit of information. But this was a grown man, not a boy.

It couldn't be. Could it?

Medivh quickly and quietly hastened toward a ramp leading down. He'd have to be cautious of course. Despite absorbing the energies of this tower so long ago, time could still be unhinged and hauntings and visions were still possible. Also the last his old apprentice had seen of him he had been deep in demonic possession and had been stabbed through the heart by the boy's hand. Lothar had finished it by decapitating him. He couldn't just approach him as if nothing had happened.

The Magus stood at the edge of the candlelight. This time casting one shadow instead of two on the wall behind him. He stood frozen and silent and very real, not sure exactly how to approach. For a moment, he was completely taken by memory and emotion. So much memory. Khadgar! He slowly allowed his magical senses to extend - allowing himself to reach out towards the other presence so that he'd be able to be felt. As a nexus point for multiple leylines, the tower was still packed with magic. It was almost dazzling after so long away from it.

"Khadgar?" The Magus broke his silence, gruff tenor incredulous.

He felt him before he heard him, felt the familiar magic spreading out like tendrils of comfort and demanding his loyalty even after all these years. It was all encompassing and he felt like he could drown in the feeling.

The Legion was outdoing themselves this time, he found himself thinking, while he set the book in the right place and reached for Atiesh with his back turned upon the tall, broad shouldered figure he knew he would find. No blue this time, they were going for a more realistic method this time and it made his chest clench and eyes draw shut as he furrowed his brows to figure out how to deal with this ... this monstrosity that he was given.

Khadgar finally opened his blue eyes and gentle flicked some cobwebs off of his fingers as he slowly turned towards the imposing figure, looking just as he had in every memory he dared to remember. Black hair, streaked with grey, those piercing green eyes and the lines of his face. Khadgar almost didn't want to attack, not this perfect vision. Mentally, he scolded himself for being so weak and instead hardened his face, though before had been a look that screamed out to the skies how lost he was by this appearance.

Atiesh's base was thumped upon the ground and blue magic swirled around the once apprentice, eyes flickering with the magics that he was drawing towards him only to unleash it's fury directly at the, what he thought, imposter.

“This will not be a place for the Legion to taint,” he thundered, expression twisting into how angry he was at this... vision, at this farce standing before him. How dare they try this again, how dare they twist his feelings against him.

Perhaps it was just a way for the Legion to toy with him, to put him into a new state of paranoia. It wouldn't work. It couldn't work. He needed to stay stalwart for the Champion's of Azeroth and keep them armed with all of the knowledge that he could muster.

His robes were drenched in a brighter blue as the arcane forces began to once again twist around him in a dance that relayed the anger he was feeling and he raised his hand to direct the magic once more.

“Not as long as I stand alive.”

This place was not for the Legion to ever touch, nor was those memories there for them to toy with at their leisure. His lips were pursed together and eyes focused on the man standing there, his chin tilted up defiantly in the face of what he thought was another demon preying upon his emotions.

The magic began to build up again, spinning faster and more viciously before it began to form a ball before him. Atiesh was lifted and the ball was struck towards the intruder with a gallant swing.

“Nor will I ever be a pawn of the Legion, begone!”

Medivh watched the emotions play across Khadgar's face...and the anger that twisted them. He resisted the urge to close his eyes as the pain of it felt like it was constricting his chest in a clawlike grip. He understood why his old apprentice would feel this way. It still hurt him deeply to see it though. His own eyes flickered with the arcane in response to the other mage before him. Indeed, the lad had matured into a strong archmage - and despite all the emotion whirling within the Magus, he was still proud of him.

He always would be.

Seeing Atiesh in the other man's grip answered the question of why the Bronze Dragons wanted him to leave his own at the Caverns. He didn't have much time to think beyond that however, as Khadgar unleashed his attack with a rather creative swipe of the greatstaff.

Medivh held up a hand, fingers bent in a countersign just as the ball of arcane energies came right at him. The impact lit up the space briefly like day. When the light faded, Medivh still stood, hand raised as the energies crackled in a dome shape around him and faded.

"It is all right Khadgar!" He said, voice snapping like a cracked whip in the library, carrying easily in the space. "No longer am I possessed by Sargeras." He spat the name, green eyes flickering. "Thanks to both you and Lothar, I am cleansed. Free from that taint." He lowered his hand, not intending on attacking. But he would defend himself if need be if his ex-apprentice attacked.

Edited 2016-09-25 09:52 (UTC)

The room was bathed in the light from the impact upon the dome and Khadgar had been ready to attack once more, but the words that filled the room made him stop and a near fear appear upon his face as he listened. He was always forced to listen to that voice. The magic around him died down and the brighter blue left his already too blue eyes as he watched the Magus - could it truly be the Magus?

He threw the urge to rush towards him and hug him down into the depths of his stomach where they belonged and instead managed to find a little hope. Had the Magus truly come back? Was this actually him and not a vision or a trick of the Legion? He didn't want to hope and only be wrong again, he didn't want to put his faith that Medivh would be there for him to talk to, to sort these things out with only to have it tossed back into his face another time.

"It cannot be," he tried instead, trying to convince himself, though the magic-- "you cannot be Medivh."

Sargeras couldn't replicate that, could he? He felt it before he even saw him, heard his footsteps like it was just yesterday for the Magus to come strolling by to the library.

"Medivh is dead."

Who was he convincing? It surely wasn't himself. His shoulders slumped while both hands curled around Atiesh so he could lean upon it while he watched the figure stand there. Perhaps this was a hallucination from the lack of sleep, of course being in this place would rouse one of Medivh and it wasn't heard of for one to even feel like this.

It was like the Archmage aged another ten years as he leaned against the staff, warily watching Medivh, though less likely to strike out this time.

Once the flecks faded from his vision, he saw the emotions flicker across Khadgar's face. He wished to approach him and reach out. To at least show he was real - but he dared not step any closer. Disbelief and the sense of being under threat hung around the Archmage like a cloud. He remained silent, as Khadgar continued to deny his presence.

At the statement that he was dead, Medivh sighed slightly with a slow nod.

"Yes." He said, voice soft as he regarded the other man with quiet sadness. A tiredness as if the world was forever on his shoulders. In fact, something similar was in Khadgar's posture. "Yes, I was. My Mother used the last of her powers to bring me back. Apparently not even death was an end for me."

He could not deny that sounded like something the Aegwyn he had seen in visions, would do. Yet, he wanted to believe. Honestly, it didn't help him in trying to disbelieve that it was truly the Magus, the way he admitted that he had been dead-- Well. Khadgar decided that perhaps, as long as he kept his guard up in some way that it wouldn't be a bad thing to believe that this wasn't a hallucination of Medivh for a little while.

"Why now?" He decided to query, white eyebrows drawing tight as he shifted his weight off of the staff.

He wanted nothing more than to rush forward and embrace the man, but instead he held firm to his spot as if glued there like some figurine in a small crafted scene. Perhaps he was scared that if he got too close he would find that his hand would go right through the man. It wasn't something he particularly wanted to deal with so he decided that to keep his wits about him he would keep his distance.

"The Legion has invaded again, Medivh," he says after a small bit, "there has already been the loss of two leaders of Azeroth and I am at a loss for what more I can do for the champions."

Medivh was quiet at first at the question, turning to begin pacing along the edge of the light. He kept well within it's boundaries, his shadow moving along the wall - but he didn't move to get closer to Khadgar despite wanting to with all his being. His restless pacing would be familiar to the Archmage as well as the way his dark brows drew down in a frown as he considered an answer. There was many things that he had seen and experienced, and he wasn't able to tell all of it. Especially anything to do with the timelines.

The mention of the Legion caused his pacing to stop, and he turned his gaze to Khadgar once more. Something else had caught his attention. Two world leaders had been lost. Who? He lowered his head briefly. "There cannot be success without great sacrifice." He murmured. It was something he had spoken to his apprentice before in a strange exchange of visions not long after he was buried.

"That is why I'm here." He said finally with a decisive nod. "Long have I waited for a chance to make up for all the horror and death I have caused. I doubt it can be done but I will damn well try." His eyes flashed in the candle light. "Sargeras and the Legion must be stopped." He almost made a motion as if punctuating his point with a thump of his staff - realizing he didn't have one in his hand.

"I could no more ignore the pull to be here than to ignore the need for breath."

The pacing was familiar, another comfort within these walls and had him almost smiling. Though as he murmured something Khadgar knew, he wondered if he should tell him that one of the leaders was Llane's son, Varian. Instead, he watched and listened. Coming to his own conclusions to himself, though as he said he could no longer ignore the pull of Karazhan... well, the smile did properly appear upon his face, softening his old features.

He wracked his brain for a way to explain to Medivh more of the situation at hand, though found himself coming up short. His attention was brought to Medivh attempting to thump Atiesh, but well... He didn't have it. Khadgar surprised himself with the bark of laughter that erupted out of him and moved only close enough to tease the idea of perhaps handing Atiesh to the Magus. Though he had no real want of doing it, truly, he was a little bit of a brat that way.

"There is no need for a Guardian, Medivh. However, counsel and experience are things that are needed. Azeroth has changed greatly, old friend."

The Archmage stood straighter and moved to look back at the books that he had disturbed, the coating of dust making him frown and then nod resolutely to himself. He did need to return to finding what he came for, though he realized that he should apologize for the attack.

"The last time I was here alone, Medivh... Coming to find another set of answers, there had been a Dread Lord using your form to try and tempt me into being a pawn, that is why I attacked so furiously. It was not that I thought you still possessed, more I thought you were a literal demon here to tempt me even more. Still not quite sure if you aren't one, but a little danger never hurt anyone."

The sudden laughter caused Medivh's eyes to snap over to Khadgar, eyebrows raising in surprise. In a way he supposed he understood. He knew him well enough to know his sense of humor and how it worked. Though he didn't respond with a smile or a laugh of his own, he did cross his arms (to prevent any future fail thumping without the staff in his hand) with a glint to his eye and a quirk to his mouth as Khadgar stepped forward. Again, it was hard to resist the urge to reach out and touch the other man. To reassure himself that he was actually there. Yet another reason why he crossed his arms so.

"I know..." He murmured softly at Khadgar's words that a Guardian wasn't needed. In truth, one person shouldn't have to be burdened with such a thing. All of the peoples of Azeroth must band together to protect her against the Legion. Not one. "You have earned the title more than I ever could have, young Trust." There was no denying the pride within the soft, almost gentle tones.

The mention of a demon lord in the tower however, caused a visible change in Medivh's expression and demeanor. Outrage. Pure and simple. Tightly reigned but still there, flashing like a storm cloud in his eyes and in his face. The energy around him was nearly physically palpable, though it didn't manifest visibly. It took him a few moments to compose himself enough to speak. Oh there was going to be hell to pay. He would make sure of it.

The Legion must fall.

"Khadgar." He said, voice slightly gruff. "I understand your doubts and do not blame you for them. But reach out with your senses, just like I have taught you in the past. I will not resist. Know that it is me, and not a trick." This was not something he offered lightly. To open oneself to another's magical probing left one vulnerable. Especially to magical attack. The Magus simply held his hands out palm up in a gesture of trust. The other mage would also be able to feel that had not gathered any magic to prepare himself for a spell.

All humor ended up knocked from Khadgar as his master spoke to him, told him he earned that title more than Medivh had. He wanted to refute it, though the storm that brewed within Medivh's eyes quickly shut any chance of teasing the Magus down with only a glance.

He hadn't felt that anger in over 30 years, he realized. And though he knew it was anger that the Legion had begun to defile Karazhan, Khadgar couldn't help but find the feeling all that more soothing. Such a temper when he was younger would have had him tiptoeing lightly and it drew another smile from the Archmage, almost unwillingly.

Khadgar opened his mouth, only to shut it as the offer to probe Medivh with his magic and well, he wasted no time and gave no true warning while he reached out for a hand and began to push his own magic out so he could feel the other completely. It would not be harsh or truly prodding, simply feeling around and attempting to curl around the Magus completely. It was short, but there was no lie found within his probes, it was truly Medivh.

Medivh was there.

Pulling his magic back to himself, Khadgar stared at Medivh looking lost for the second time that night. His heart thumped in staccato and he drew his eyes shut to gather his words. The Archmage couldn't bring himself to let go of the one hand and took a sharp breath before opening his eyes to truly look at him.

Everything was like how he last saw it.

Perhaps he wasn't senile after all.

Slowly he pulled his hand away from the warm palm that he had grasped tighter than he perhaps should have and found that he didn't want to let go. He did it anyways, Khadgar needed to continue to remind himself why he held himself in tight reign. He could not afford to stumble or break, no matter who it was before him.

"You are..."

He was truly at a loss for words and scrunched his white brows while tilting his head to the side in a brief studious glance. Strands of his hair fell back against his forehead, then suddenly he made a noise of annoyance and brushed the locks back and gave Medivh a truly sheepish look.

"Medivh, welcome home."

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Khadgar | World of Warcrafft

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