Munio joined Curse after many guilds did not satisfy him. He has remained dedicated to them ever since. When Prosperina was rescued, evidence led Munio back to his allies in Dalaran. When he returned, the events bellow ensued.
Dalaran was a little worse for the wear but the reconstruction was going well. Munio hadn’t been by in a week and yet they had finished much since his last visit. The workers and people of Dalaran looked upon the now familiar Forsaken with unease, but allowed him nonetheless. Today however, little known to them, he did not come in peace.
The pin he found in the wake of the Forsaken mage, as well as her reference to his master… it was all very disturbing. The pendant was new. Who was she? And how did she get it? These were the answers Munio sought today. Prosperina’s suffering would be accounted for. No one involved could not be punished. No one.
After climbing the many flights to the pinnacle, Munio walked calmly into Tirrius’ quarters. The Quarters were very plain – a symptom of the current reconstruction, and only had a desk for reading, writing and mild storage, and windows flanking the ends of the desk a few feet away. Tirrius sat at the desk, now gray haired, but his face still had a youthful appearance. “Munio, what are you doing here?” he asked.
“Just for a visit my friend.”
“Really? Well sit down and we’ll talk. Anything interesting happen since you last came? I hear your son has taken up the charge as a mage in the Argent Dawn, and they will be training him soon in their Stormwind Embassy.”
“Yes – I am very proud. He will be specializing in the arcane methods of slaying the Undead… Ironic isn’t it? He’ll know how to kill his own father by looking at him…”
Tirrius laughed, “I’m sure he never would, he still loves you for what you are, as I do. But why not send him here for training? We are the finest mages in all of the land.”
“I’m not sure I want him training here… a few things have come up that have changed my views and I believe he would be best suited training for the Dawn. On top of that, I intend on joining their ranks myself.”
“But what of us? What of the Forsaken? Do you intend to abandon your duties to both of your brethren to join a hopeless crusade?”
“A hopeless crusade?”
“Well, they allow all into their ranks, from Forsaken to Night Elves, with both ends of the spectrum it is sure to fall apart.”
“You and I both know peace is the answer. Maybe the Dawn can set an example, and when the Scourge is thwarted they may bring a unified peace across the land.”
“I wish I shared your optimism Munio. I wish I did. But again – what of your previous dedications?”
“I think I may serve the Forsaken better as an Ambassador to the Argent Dawn.”
“And what of us?”
“That is what I came here to speak to you about.” Munio looked up at his master with a look of shame. “Remember when I spoke to you about the aspiring Forsaken mage going missing? From my guild – the Curse? The one I had counselled and in turn been counselled by?”
“You never disappeared Munio!” Tirrius laughed, but after taking a look at Munio’s expression, he quickly continued, “Yes I remember, the woman.”
“A few days ago, we used a locating ritual to find her and find her we did. In Duskwood of all places. Not only that, we found her at Raven Hill, a place you would remember well.” Tirrius grew pale. Memories tugged at his heart, and his companion’s stern look – one he rarely saw from him – racked him with guilt.
“My family was once resident there yes, and then the Defias slew them all when they were travelling from there to Stormwind to find a safer place to live… but that was years ago Munio, I haven’t been there since I made a report on the Arcane’s relation to the spirits haunting that place.”
“My point was you know it well.” Tirrius groaned.
“Yes, now what are you getting at?”
“We found her in the crypts – Scourge in every corner, attacking us at all angles… and what do we find? Forsaken. Forsaken holding one of their sisters captive. Now why would they do that?”
“I’ve no clue – Munio.” Tirrius said his name with extra care.
Munio grew angrier, “Neither have I.” Munio reached into his pocket and pulled out the small mithril medalion – an almost brand new Dalaran pendent, with the crest donned now with two hammers above the original symbol – representing it’s reconstruction. “Recognize this?”
“I hope you killed him in self defence.”
“First of all – it was a woman. Second of all – she was a Forsaken. How did she get this and why did she wear it?”
“She killed a Mage and took it, wore it because she missed her past.”
“She mentioned you – called you feeble.”
“An old student.”
“Maybe. But maybe you knew her. Maybe she visits you like I do, and she gives you information, maybe she misses you, maybe she hates you. What ever it is – she works for you.”
“You’ve found Prosperina, what more do you want?!”
“I never told you her name.” Tirrius froze. Munio’s glowing blue eyes pierced into him, he felt helpless – he was trapped in a lie. Leaping from his chair he attempted to cast a Frostbolt at Munio – but when it hit him his eyes merely began to glow brighter. Munio’s face became angry. Tirrius had only ever seen this expression once, when Munio witnessed the death of a comrade in combat, and mercilessly slew the murderer. Tirrius began chanting a word of teleportation as he reached for his Rune – although he couldn’t teleport outside of Dalaran, he could call the guards before Munio could escape. The room suddenly grew extremely cold, and a great Nova of Ice flew out from around Munio, Tirrius’ desk was thrown across the room and out of the left window, leaving him exposed. The Nova interrupted Tirrius chantings, and he was flung back and into the wall. Munio stepped forward and grabbed his former master by the throat with his bony and cold left hand and pressed him against the wall. Munio’s eyes burned like a blue flame, his hood fallen back revealed his still blue hair. The room continued to chill, air rushing in the broken window. Munio began to yell furiously, “Tell me! What do you know? How did you advance this plot? Why have you broken your oath to me?”
“I… I… I’m sor-“
“Sorry?! You are beyond pity! You promised me, if it ever came to it, if there was ever a possibility of it, that any member of the Curse would be dealt with by me!” Munio shuddered at the thought, “And she has done nothing I haven’t done! Why? Why?!”
“Cannot tell me?!” The air rushed out – the room warmed a little, and now a look of shame crossed Munio’s face – his eyes softened, “You cannot tell your greatest friend why you were part of a foul torture on one of his sisters?”
“I cannot.” Tirrius began to regain his composure.
“Fine.” Munio did not release Tirrius’ throat, but reached down and grabbed his Hypnotic Blade with his free right hand and unsheathed it. Bringing it up to Tirrius’ face he said, “You’re lucky I have a single vestige of humanity left in me, or else I’d leave with your life.”
“I know you’re better than that Munio.” Tirrius said weakly.
“But I will leave you with something.” Tirrius eyed the Blade. Munio pressed the edge on his cheek, and began to pull it toward him, slicing his flesh. “I want for you to look in the mirror and remember the suffering you caused Prosperina, and the friendship you destroyed.” Blood dripping from his Blade, Munio placed it back in it’s sheathe, the crimson liquid ran down Tirrius cheek. Munio now tightened his grip again, and the room once again grew colder. Anger returned to Munio’s face. “I renounce my allegiance to the Kirin Tor, and now pledge my life to the Argent Dawn and the Forsaken.” He reached to his chest and ripped off the old Silver Dalaran pendant he wore over his heart, and threw it at Tirrius’ feet. He released the now breathless Archmage and turned to the door. At the door, Munio turned around and faced his old Master and greatest friend for one last time and he disappeared. Where he stood the glow of his eyes remained for a moment, and then the room suddenly became warm again. Tirrius collapsed onto his knees and picked up the small silver pendant. It was part of Munio’s initiation as a mage of Dalaran, and Tirrius had given it to him. Suddenly, a guard burst in.
“Sir! What has happened?!”
“I have lost my greatest friend, and made our worst enemy. Now go!” He yelled. The guard quickly left and Tirrius once again looked at the pendant. “I am sorry, Munio.” Tirrius broke into tears.