Somebody to lean on.

"Are you sure?" Gore said, his eyes flicking over to Elvae, a brow raised inquisitively. 

Elvae nodded once, crossing his arms over his chest, loosing a sigh. "I believe so. It would make sense. The Nathrezim were always the best at manipulation, it would make sense for him to try and use Ceyel against me. Though it was never Vorinclex's specialty. He'd rather use his claws."

They both stood atop the walls surrounding Stormwind University, staring out over the city beyond. The moon was high in the sky, though the lights of the city itself drowned out what little moonlight there would be. 

Gore shook his head, chuffing. "I'm not so sure, old friend. According to you, he said he wasn't doing it for himself." He raised a hand to his greying muzzle, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "What. . . what if Ceyel is still alive? She probably thinks that it was really you, that killed her, and this is her taking her revenge. Maybe she's his new master, with the Legion gone. For the most part."

Elvae was shaking his head before Gore was finished speaking. "There's no way she could be alive. I. . . if anyone would know, Gore, it would be me." 

A low growl came from Gore's throat, as he shook his head. "Vorinclex said he'd rather not stand on Azeroth's soil again, right? And like you said, he said he wasn't working for himself. It all points to him acting for someone else." Gore finally looked back out over the city, shaking his head. "It makes sense. You've made enough enemies in your life, there's bound to be someone out to get you." 

Elvae grunts, tucking his chin to his chest, closing his eyes. "So how would Ceyel have, somehow, come back to life, and then, somehow gotten Vorinclex under her control? She was a mage, she wasn't a warlock. She has no control over fel magic."

Gore looked back at Elvae once more, before returning his gaze to the city. "The Shadowlands, Elvae," he grunts. "These nightmares of Ceyel didn't start until the veil was shattered, right? So maybe she saw her chance, and took it."

Elvae scowled. "Even if that is what's happening, how would she have gotten Vorinclex under her control? He would never submit willingly. He's as stubborn as they come, Gore. He cannot be broken."

Gore rolled his furry shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe he wasn't forced. They both apparently dislike you. It would make sense if Vorinclex went to Ceyel for help, against you. Who knows what she's turned into since she died. She could be a mage to rival Rhonin."

Elvae pursed his lips. "I don't like the fact that you're beginning to make more and more sense, as time goes on." 

Gore let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "Maybe it's because I'm right, Elvae. Ceyel thinks you're the one who truly killed her, and now Vorinclex and her are manipulating your dreams, and twisting them into horrific nightmares." He shrugged, then. "And Vorinclex even said he was going to burn everything, which clearly points to an attack of sorts."

Elvae closed his eyes, bringing both hands to rest on his crest, grumbling to himself. He was otherwise silent, for several moments, before he dropped his hands, turning to look at Gore, with his dimming, electric blue eyes. 

"So what do you suggest I do?" Elvae asked. 

Gore turned to face the stairs, leading down the walls, and into the campus. 

"Well first, I suggest you get a drink."