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Control Scarlets
The bound man thrashes, raving incoherently around his gag. Clawed hands calmly turn his head this way and that, unconcerned by his reaction. Inspection done, the demon turns to her audience – and an odd assortment it is, too. Human and Forsaken alike edge slightly away from the towering figure in their midst, not entirely comfortable with the Lord of Outland no matter how relaxed he seems.
“Oh yeah,” the demon says, one hand on the captive’s shoulder. “His mind is broken.”
One of the humans looks at the captive nervously. “Can you fix it?”
Illidan scoffs.
“Of course I can,” Tessa says. “I fixed him.” She turns back to the captive man, who ceases raving at her touch and goes absolutely still. “Balnazzar put a self-destruct command in when he twisted the Scarlet Crusade to his own ends. If any Scarlet turned against the order, their mind would break and they’d be seen as mad and ignored. He did it to make sure that none of his pawns escaped his control as well as ensuring that his secret stayed safe.”
The human man who spoke up earlier looks frightened. “But we turned against the order, and nothing happened to us.”
“That’s because you’re following a different set of orders now. Balnazzar wasn’t as skilled as my father. He won you away, and when he left, he let you go.” She doesn’t even bother to look up from her subject, deep in his mind, re-arranging the pieces.
“Your father…”
“Dreadlord Mal’Ganis,” Illidan says with faint amusement.
The former Scarlet starts. “Of course. Ah…you said he let us go?”
“Yep!” Tessa turns from her subject and regards the human critically. “You of the Onslaught were more valuable with your minds intact. Especially you. The controls are still there. Kal’shan, did you want to control the Scarlet Onslaught?”
The Forsaken in the room eye everyone else warily, uncomfortable with the reminder of when they, too, were controlled.
“What?” The former Scarlet jerks in shock. “We would never-“ Something changes subtly in his face. “-betray Lord Illidan.” He stops, blood draining from his face. “What did you do to me?”
With a grin, the demon gestures and the human shakes his head. “My father left your mind warded, but I am of his blood. It gives me a back door inside. Don’t worry, I put your loyalties back the way they were.”
One of the Forsaken, a female Deathguard, looks interested. “Dreadlord Mal’Ganis was behind the Plague, was he not?”
Tessa turns back to her subject. “It was more of a collective effort than that. Why do you ask?”
“Could you control one of the Scourge?”
A shrug. “Never tried, but I could give it a shot.”
“Could you control one of the Forsaken?”
Now she turns to the Deathguard. Her eyes narrow, and the Deathguard’s widen, then narrow again.
“As you can see, the answer is no,” the demon says. “The Plague leaves the soul in place and intact, but shackled. Whatever you did to break free, it broke the shackles. Given time and effort, I probably could repair them, but what would be the point?”
The Deathguard nods. “I appreciate your honesty. I’m sure the Dark Lady will, too. You must understand, we are extremely curious about the Plague. If we bring you a Scourge…?”
Again, Tessa shrugs. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, your friend Joseph is ready for questioning.”
“And he won’t go insane again?” the former Scarlet asks.
“Nope. I undid the damage and altered the bindings a little. His loyalty is to Sylvanas now.”