The Twisted shadows fall...((IC))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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"I do apologize again for making you think I was including you in the insane category, I hope you can forgive me."

"If you can forgive me for being so rash in my speech. Athough I am still young for a Sin'Dorei, the years since the Third War have not been kind to me and I have learned that having too much confidence is just as bad as not having enough confidence. While one can cause hesitation the other can cause premature action and both can be equally deadly. The balance is something I have yet to find."

She sighed and looked down at the floor, as if trying to see through it and to what lay in wait for them "I just wish I didn't feel so totally out of my depth on this."
Sammuroth smiled at the huntress, "You are correct, balance is indeed hard to find, and it takes years of experience, and hardships to find that balance. I do not doubt that your ancestors, my kin faced plenty of hardship when they were exiled, I often wondered over the years if perhaps we had been too rash in our judgement. I still hold out hope that one day our peoples will come together again, but I doubt, if that happens, I will be alive to see it." The druid looked sadly at her as she looked down at the floor, "I just wish I didn't feel so totally out of my depth on this."

If had been in his natural form he probably would have placed a comforting hand on her back, but he couldn't, "I don't know if this will make you feel better, but I am sure the majority of us are out of our element on this mission. I never dreamed anything, but one of the Legion could be so cruel, and heartless as the Darkwrath's are, and I confess nothing has gone as I thought it would on this mission. All we can do is forge on, and remember what we are fighting to protect, I know not what we may face when we confront Alizar, what tricks he may use. Still I also know this is our best shot at stopping their plan, so I will fight and overcome whatever he may throw at me, dispel your concern, and fill your thoughts with nothing, but protecting those you love, and all of Azeroth. Doing so has gotten me through the years, and countless battles, it has given me strength, and the will to fight on, that is the best advice I can give you. I can also promise to watch your back, and hope that that knowledge eases whatever worries or concerns you may have, that is if you wish for an old cat to have your back," Sammuroth smiled at the girl, hoping it was reassuring.
Bryah lifted her head to look at the old cat and smiled. She had to resist the urge to scratch him behind the ear in that spot that Hades loved. She wasn't sure how the druid would take it.

"Thank you. It is comforting to know that one such as you has found balance hard to achieve. It gives me hope that I will one day be able to achieve it."

Her smile broadened into a grin as she heard his confession. "Now I don't feel quite so alone. Thank you."

She fell into a thoughtful silence as her mind travelled to Silvermoon City and thoughts of the rare times when she and Tomas had free time at the same time. Although she had been friends with him since the first day of training, she had always resisted his efforts to make their friendship anything more than that. Perhaps it's time I stopped running and let him catch me.

Beside her, Hades yawned and stretched his long, lean frame, eager for the next fight. He looked at Bryah and saw that she was standing still, not moving. To the lion, it meant that he could have a quick nap until she gave the order to move again. He curled up on the ground near her feet, looking very much like an overgrown house cat and waited for her next order.

Blaze hovered near Bryah, nudging her on occasion and giving a soft chirp in her ear. She waved him off the first few times, but he kept on doing it until she gave in and tossed him an apple from her bag. "I'm glad you're not being your usual always hungry self Blaze. Make the most of that apple. I don't know if I'm going to have the chance to feed you before tonight."
Arthien saw the warrior give her a look and mutter something under her breath "I'm sorry, you really must speak up, tis difficult to understand the grunting of a brute from this distance." she call to her, she was also planning to respond to the Elven Witch, when she departed towards the elevator, calling for several members of the group to follow, Arthien included. Instead of following immeadiatly she walked over to the crimson pool, of whatever unfortunate captive it had been, pulling out three medium sized glass vials from her pack.

She knelt down infront of the blood, and placed a finger into the liquid, it was tepid, the remaining heat fading quickly on the cold stone floor. She uncorked the vials and set them down the lip of each just contacting the blood. With a wave of her hand and a quiet incantation, the blood began to move, slowly gathering at the mouth of each vial, then just as slowly, the blood began to creep into the vials, filling them completly. Satisfied Arthien rose, storing the filled vials in her bag, she assumed the warrior would have a poorly thought insult for her, but she didn't care to stay and hear it, instead she walked towards the elevator.

"To resond to your statment, twas a simple miscalculation on my part, I overestimated my reserve stamina to overpower my fatigue, thus I overexerted myself, yet I am the stronger for it, though I suppose someone who is content to let others do thier work, would not understand overcoming ones exhaustion to further ones power, now would they?" She scoffed her staments directed to the Elven Witch.
As Ascul and Erani looked on at Rysill’s display, Gutripper slowly slinked behind Erani, peering at Rysill uneasily with his one eye. “Missstresss… angry…”

Erani nodded in agreement. “Yes. Mistress very angry.”

Krista meanwhile was hiding behind Ascul’s back. Both she and Ascul both held their breath when Lineron went to calm her, grabbing her sword arm and ending her murderous rampage.

"Sister dear, while I do appreciate a good old fashioned frenzy, please save your anger for the wench and her coward of a husband."
Still driven by blind rage, Rysill struggled against Lineron’s grip for a few more minutes before her frenzy finally began to die down. She was dimly aware of the faint trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. Due to the cavity in her chest where her heart was supposed to be, blood would sometimes climb up her throat if she strained herself enough. It didn’t really mean any harm to her, but it was certainly not pleasant to look at for most. As she began to calm she wiped away the blood and realized her two cousins were no longer nearby but watching from a ways away, both with expressions of unease. The death knight cleared her throat then said to Lineron, “I apologize for that display. It was quite… unseemly. You are right, it would be best to reserve such ire for the… ‘wench’. I think I rather like that name as well. Very fitting.” She politely took her arm back and sheathed her sword again. “I’m fine now, brother. Thank you.”

She turned on her hoof and strolled back toward Erani and Ascul who were letting out sighs of relief that Lineron seemed to calm her so easily.

Rysill’s eyes fell upon her geist who was still hiding behind Erani then tilted her head slightly in gesture for him to come to her side. He obeyed as Rysill continued to walk past them toward the rest of the group, awaiting orders.

Erani and Ascul glanced after her before Erani said, “Thank you, Lineron. I am very glad she did not… vell… try to kill you. That vould have ended very badly.”
Soon they were separated into two groups. Erani frowned sadly at Lineron. “I guess this is where ve part ways. Light protect jou.” She paused. “Or, vhatever the undead worship.”

She glanced about to make sure no one was looking toward them before giving him a brief peck on the forehead and smiling softly to him as she turned and left to join her group.
The large doors groaned as they were pushed open. Nothing could have prepared Erani and Ascul for what was to be seen next. The horrors of that room…

Erani’s eyes widened at the sight. She brought her shaky hands to her mouth and gagged at the sight. Ascul fared no better. It was the sight of the tortured draenei that finally drove him over the edge. He quickly retreated to a corner and retched. To Erani’s surprise, it was Rysill who went to him. She was unaffected by the sight, which was to be expected.
She said nothing as he recovered and straightened. “These, sick bastards! They will pay for what they have done.”

Erani could tell that Ascul was furious. That was the first time she heard him curse in years. While her own stomach wrenched and twisted in her gut, she was able to keep everything down. Barely.

Tears of both rage and anguish welled in her eyes. ‘Who could have done this? Why? Our people are so few in number as it is,’ she thought to herself. She blinked away the tears and tightened her grip on her sword. ‘I would like to see the monsters who did this see the very same fate!’

Gutripper looked about the carnage, then turned to Rysill. “Food…?”

Disgusted, Erani shot a glare at Rysill’s geist and without thinking, kicked him hard in the side. He rolled a few times then recovered and hissed loudly at Erani, glancing over to his mistress as if hoping she would punish Erani for what she had done.

Rysill narrowed her eyes at Gutripper. “Don’t look at me. You deserved that.”

Gutripper watched her for a few moments before lowering his head in shame.
Lineron let go of Rysill's arm and walked back with her to Erani and her brother. "It is of no issue, sister. We all go through those moments." He smiled at Erani when she thanked him. "Im always of service." He gave a small mock bow to her. He and his sister turned to Krystala when she gave out orders. He frowned slightly when he wasn't going to be with Erani anymore.

I guess this is where ve part ways. Light protect jou.” She paused. “Or, vhatever the undead worship.”

Lineron smiled insanely at Erani, barring his sharpened teeth. "No gods, no masters my dear. Though I suppose the shadows and me get along just fine. Anyway....Shadows be with you, my dear." He frowned when she walked away. Daenith patted his head comfortingly.
"Its alright brother dear, she will be fine." Lineron groaned then whistled for Bonereaper to follow him into the elevator with the others, but not before grabbing a healthstone from the bowl Daenith summoned. He leaned against the wall of it with his arms crossed and Bonereaper sitting crossed legged next to him. He glared at the cat as it started basically insulting him. Then he started chuckling darkly as he thought about it. "Oh how kind of you to worry about everyone's safety cat!" He let out a short hiss with his snake like tongue and smiled insanely at him. "But you do not have to worry, little kitty. My mind is my own, and always will be. It may be shattered.....but its mine. Sanity is for the weak any way." He pulled out the healthstone he grabbed from the bowl and took a bite out of it then held it out to the cat. "Kitty want a treat?"

Daenith frowned at her brother as he walked away. 'What is it that fool see's in her? He is undead!' She sighed then hoisted Jaktip back onto her shoulder and followed her group. What she saw when she entered the room....made her angry. She stood there, breathing heavily trying to keep her anger from over taking her. Jaktip nudged her towards the blood elf corpse sitting in the chair with the lashes all across his body and the hole in his throat. She walked slowly towards him and stood in front of him. She looked at his face, his eyes were still open. She took two fingers and closed them. "In the afterlife you may hopefully have some rest. And in the world of the living, I shall be your harbinger of vengeance." She said the last word with a demonic voice. She stood back up and walked into the elevator with Shinaria and turned towards her, her demonic horns having regrown into stubs on her head and her eyes glowing purple. "I will send them both into the darkest pit in the twisting nether." She said in a deeper and more demonic tone of voice. Jaktip chuckled evilly on her shoulder, but then Daenith gripped his skull and squeezed, but not enough to destroy him. "I hear one thing out of you, wretch. I. End. You. Then replace you with a Voidwalker." Jaktip nodded in fear then Daenith released her grip on his head.
The druid looked at Lineron with a bored expression, "I am glad that you have an abundance of confidence, but logically we don't know what the Darkwrath's are capable of, when it comes to mental attacks. Your mind has already been under anothers thrall once, and your insanity could make you more susceptible to mental attacks. I not only worry for the rest of the group, but you as well, I would rather you not be forced to kill us all, including your draenei friend, I am simply speaking a warning. An unstable mind may be easy pickings for the Darkwrath's, or it could be just the opposite, time will tell, just keep your insanity in check, we don't need you going on a killing frenzy, and putting the entire mission in jeapordy." At the Death Knight's little joke, the cat smiled, "If you are trying to goad me into a fight, you will be disappointed, words simply flow past me, as water flows around rock. My mind is focused on the mission, and giving justice to those the Darkwraths have slaughtered, by ending their lives, your taunts cannot break that focus. Just know if you should lose your mind to the Darkwraths and turn on us, I will not hesitate to put you down, and before you scoff, just know I put down plenty of Death Knights in Northrend. This is not a threat, but a promise, but as long as your mind stays your own, I will not have to fulfill that promise, and we can work together to end this "Project Midnight."
"I'm sorry, you really must speak up, tis difficult to understand the grunting of a brute from this distance.", the female warlock called out in response to her mutterings. Peregrine inhaled deeply, harsh words ready to spill out, but she checked herself. Funny thing about battle, never know who's going to have to watch your back she reminded herself. "Next time, try to schedule your nap time for a more convenient time and place. It tires the brutes out when we have to carry you around." There was more she could have said, but she bit it back. She turned on her heel and listened to the little witch explain their plan.

The plan was to split up into two groups one for each of the Darkwraths. Peregrine was a little disturbed that aside from the blood knight who had patted her on her head like a child, most of her friends, well acquaintances anyway, were in the other group. Still, she would get to face Aliza Darkwrath, the "Vomit Woman", again. She would be ready this time. Her lip curled in a smile of anticipation.

She surveyed the group she was with. Kal'Theron, the blood knight, she knew and trusted. Shinaria, the priestess would be good to have along. Let's hope I don't need her healing A male sin'dorei warlock, who seemed fairly calm and controlled. If we're going to take a warlock with us, at least we got the one who tries to be sane She smiled ruefully. And the Draenei trio, a warrior, Death Knight, and Paladin. She nodded to herself.

As the two groups split up at the elevators, Peregrine made eye contact with Bryah and Sam. "See you on the high ground.", she said in a traditional warrior's farewell. She thought about something more, perhaps wishing for the blessing of the Light, but it didn't feel right. Best to keep it simple.

And so she followed the Blood Knight and priestess to Room 14. Inside was a disgusting array of torture apparatuses and the remains of the victims. The whole room was grisly beyond anything she had seen, even in the Plague Quarter of Naxxramas. The whole room smelled of rot, death, and voided bowels. She felt a retch coming on and she pulled off her helmet quickly, but managed to avoid the embarassment. Burying her mouth in her cloak to filter the smell out, she breathed deeply for a few moments, as some of the group vomited.

The warlock, she noted, stood calmly, almost serenely. Clearly he found the scene distasteful, but kept himself under control. Shinaria was boiling with rage at the deaths of the victims and Peregrine found herself agreeing with her. It's one thing to die in a fight, even an ambush or an uneven battle. It's entirely different to be trussed up and dissected like an animal. Twisted, tortured... She shook her head trying to banish the thoughts of what it must have been like for the victims. We shall avenge you.

The Death Knight's walking corpse minion, looked at one of the torture victims and asked, "Food?". He was rewarded with a swift kick by one of the raging Draenei. It was almost comical enough for Peregrine to laugh. If it had happened anywhere else, she would have.

The draenei who delivered the kick pressed onward with tears in her eyes. Peregrine fell into step beside her, "We'll get them. No one gets away with something on this scale." She tried to sound as determined and confident as she could, but it was difficult to truly speak without drawing in a mouthful of the putrid air. She bit back a retch again. Best to keep the helmet off until I need it. She steeled herself as best she could and pressed on.
Kry's group.

Krystala sighed as the Druid cat, to her, began to boast, then apologize, then boast, then apologize, then try put Lin in his place..

"Annoyance.." She thought to herself. Looking at the Druid cat, she'd give him a glare that, even for a young looking Sin'dorei like her, would say 'If you don't shut up, I'm going to beat your head in'. There was little time for foolishness, they needed to move, and they needed to move now!

Making sure everyone was in the elevator, she pulled the leaver back. The gates slammed shut and the group began to descend. As it went down, Krystala began to sing to her self...

"What will we do with the drunken whaler...what will we do with the drunken whaler..what will we do with the drunken whaler? Earrlly in the moooorrning...Waaaaaayy haaaay and up.she.rises. Waaayy haaayy and up.she.rises....waaaaaayy haaaay and up.she.rises. Eaarrllyy in the moooorrrnniinngg..."

"Stuff him in a sack and throw him.ovvvveerr. Stuff him a sack and throw him.ooovvveer. Stuff him in a sack and throw him ooovvveer! Earrllyy in the moooorrrnniinng. Waaayy hay and up.she.rises. Waaayyy hay and up.she.rises. Waaaayy hay and up.she.rises. Earrllyy in the moorrnning.."

She'd stop at the first bright orange light and would have met the group through the gates. They had arrived at the large underground chamber that the Darkwrath's took a thousand years to create...but something was different. The large construct that was there before, it was gone, replaced by a large circular disk made of the same black stone...and in the middle of it...was that a temple?

The Witch narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better look, but soon enough they had reached ground level...and was met with an interesting sight. Finally, she found out where all those cowardly Shadowmancers that served the Darkwrath's went. They stood before them, and behind them all, standing on the railing...was Alizar himself. "Welcome, Krystala...the one who Rises amongst the nice to see you again." He said, his voice calm...and surprisingly welcoming.

Krystala knew he was just putting on an act, and snarled "Skip the pleasantries, 'Master', I think it's time I made you sing in agony."

Alizar folded his arms over his chest, his white hair tied into a fox tail "Now now, Kry....that's no way you should speak to your teacher and mentor. Me and Alisa made you what you are, there is no escaping that. Now rid of these fools, and maybe I will give you a second chance..." As he spoke, shadow flame began to form on the hands of two of the spell casters. They wore black robes, their faces covered, two black slits where what would certainly be their eyes wold stare hollowly at them.

Krystala eyed the two of them before returning her gaze back to Alizar "Drop.Dead." She glared at Alizar as a wide and insane grin spread across his face "You first."

Both spell casters attacked, their flames aimed at Krystala. The Witch leaped forward and rolled, her blade appearing in her hand. Quickly, she spun, cutting into the sides of both Shadowmancers. Rising, she made three cuts on the first spell caster: Knee to make him fall over, across the back to make him fall on all fours, and them through the neck to behead him.

Before the other Shadowmancer even had a chance to recover, Krystala was upon him. He quickly raised a shield of Shadow to block to blows. She growled, the runes on her left arm glowing as she countered the shield with a spell of her own. The shield fell, and Krystala impaled him.

Alizar clapped at the girl's 'impressive' display "Well done...but it's going to take a lot more than that if you want to reach me..." He snapped his fingers, more Shadowmancers appearing with those already present. Two were easy...more than two was going to be a bit more difficult. Krystala raised her blade "Alright...listen up. It appears our path is going to be a bit more difficult to reach Alizar. Prepare your's going to be a fight to reach Project Midnight."

Alizar let out an insane laugh "Come, Krystala...your death awaits you!" With that, he vanished into a cloud of pure Shadow energy, heading down towards the Temple below.

The Elven Witch growled, and quickly ran towards the left which had a path that would make a zig zag like pattern down towards the platform. It wasn't just the Shadowmancers they'd have to worry about either, more Dark Thanes would await the group at every corner that they'd have to take. It didn't matter, though, Krystala quickly dodged a few shadow bolts and murmured a spell under her breath to shoot spikes from her shadow to hold them in place for the others to finish off.

Once they had finished with them, she would begin to run down towards the next group, prepared to cut down everything in her path.


Shinaria's group

With Shin's group in the elevator, the Jailor pushed the leaver forward. Gates slammed shut in front of them, and the group began to ascend. As they rose, they passed large rooms. The first room was the room full of torture equipment...however short of victims. A small group of spell casters and a Dark Thane were finishing off a Draenei in the corner, and beside them would be a pile of bodies of all the victims that died.

The Jailor vowed to see this place destroyed as soon as she got the chance...she'd bring the Argent Crusade and they will tear down these walls everything with in it. Soon the room vanished from sight, and then another room appeared. It was the room where the Dark Thanes and other strange creations were made. Shadowmancers furiously working on more Dark Thanes and Jesters, which Shinaria only knew was for them to fight against Azeroth's forces...or what ever they were going to try and use to stop them.

It reminded her of the Sleepless legions of Mogu statues in Pandaria...only these were more quick and a lot more flexible when it came to attacks. She wondered if they were actually using some of the Mogu methods for these creations.

"One has to wonder..." She heard Kal's voice beside her and turned to look at him. He was staring down at the large amount of Thane's and Jesters matching through a large portal on the other end of the room "...even if Project Midnight were to be made...would they even be able to survive against Azeroth's champions?"

Shinaria smirked and gently punched him in the arm "What do you think we are doing? We've managed to strike some heavy blows on the Darkwrath's...we will continue to do so until there is nothing left of them."

As she spoke, the room vanished from sight...and then they began to pass the room that answered the question...'where do the dead bodies go'?

The smell was enough to make the Jailor gag. Ash mixed with burnt flesh, large oven looking contraptions lined the room. Dark Thanes and Jesters threw dead bodies into the furnaces, while Shadowmancers oversaw the process. She felt her stomach churn again, but she held herself together and waited until the room was out of sight.

Finally, they reached the top floor, a long corridor lined with royal and elegant furnishings made there way down until at the far end of the room stood two thrones. And sitting in one of them, was Alisa Darkwrath.

She sat there with a glass of wine in her hand, swirling it around again and again, her purple eyes focused purely on them. Where ever the Dark Thanes that were in the room originally had was empty. It was almost like she had been preparing for there arrival.

"Welcome..heros..." she began, her voice gentle as she rose from her seat "...It's so lovely to see you all again..hopefully with better taunts this time than when we first met." Her eyes looked over to Peregrine when she said this, a insane grin spreading across her face. Raising her glass to her lips, she downed the contents and threw it to the side, where it shattered "No's time you faced face the mother of all Nightmares..."

Behind her, four women garbbed in black robes appeared. Hoods would have been throw over their heads, and black marks would have been painted on their faces. Shinaria growled "You have a lot to answer for, Alisa." She said, walking down the hall, summoning her chains as she did so.

"Is that so? So I take it you've seen what we do here...well..I suppose we can't exactly hide it anymore, however neither are we going to let you live to tell the tail either!" Alisa pulled on her gloves more tightly, two more Oracles appearing behind her "I think I'll play with you't that be fun?"

Shinaria rushed forward. She couldn't let Alisa strike first, for she that if she did...they would be in a lot of trouble. She bounded over two steps at a time when she reached the foot of the thrones. She was close now...just a bit more! Alisa watched her approach, a grin plastered on her face, the Oracles seemingly beginning to prepare to defend their leader. Shin leaped, chains raised above her "Die! You sadistic wench!"

Alisa raised her hand, which was curled into a fist. Then as if blowing a kiss to her, she uncurled it, and a bright pink mist left her hand. Shinaria landed in front of the woman, quickly holding her breath as to try and avoid breathing in what every Alisa sent her way. Problem was, it was a spell, not any sort of dust. She felt something hard and solid strike her stomach and looked down to see Alisa had struck her. She flew back, landed on the floor and sliding to a stop, groaning in pain.

Kal quickly rushed to her aid, but soon enough the mist had swirled around him and her, and everyone else in the group.


Shinaria opened her eyes, sunlight streaming through a window into the room she was in. Her eyes adjusting...she realized she was in her own room. She was...home? Had this whole thing been a whole messed up dream? Did she drink to much wine?

She looked around, but she didn't fine any sort of wine bottle, so that was scratched. "Shinaria!" She heard a was her sister's voice. "Nisari?!" She called back, waiting for her response. "Yes..that's my name! Come down here and eat! Don't make me come up there and have to drag you out bed!"

Typical twin a way Shinaria missed her voice. Still rather confused about what was going on, she made her way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Before she stepped in, however, a foul stench reached her nose, and she stopped instantly. Raising her hand to her mouth, she coughed "Geeze, Nessy...what are you cooking?!" She stepped into the kitchen, and froze.

There, laying on the counter, was her twin sister. They weren't so much identical twins, the only difference between the two was that Nisari had more tanned skin than Shinaria, however...there she was, dead, with crows picking at her dead flesh. How did crows get here in the first place?

She looked and noticed a window open, and there was no sunlight at hanging in the sky was the moon, blood red, which in turn the fields and hills of Arathi red as well. "Shinaria?"

She knew who's voice that was; it was their friend, Al'kyr Sunstorm. She turned quickly and buried her face into his chest. He was wearing his platemail...why? Was he returning from somewhere? "Al...Nisari..she's...she's.." She began to mutter, fear, confusion, sorrow, they began to rise with in her. It was only after a while did she notice her hands felt wet, and pulled back to look at them.

They were covered in blood.

She looked up, Al falling off to the side, where she notice he was impaled with large black blades made of the same black stone the Thane's used. "What's..going on..?" she muttered, he hands raising to her head "WHAT IS THIS?!"

"This is what you fear the most."

She gasped and whirled around, finding Alisa sitting on the counter next to her dead twin, stroking a crow "You fear the death of your friend, and your fear the death of everything you love and cherish...or what's left of it after the invasion of Arthas against the the Quel'dorei people when he destroyed the Sunwell."

Shinaria's fear and sorrow quickly turned into anger "What have you done to foul wench!?"

"You're a Priestess yourself, aren't you not? Figure it out, or are you to angry to think about it?" She woman raised her hand and snapped her fingers, pink mist swirling around Shinaria again and taking her to another scene. She was in Eversong..the air itself seem cold..frigid. It wasn't like this normally...

It was only then Shinaria remembered that day...this was the calm before the storm. The day Arthas and the scourge came, the air itself seem to freeze and die, cold in the presence of the evil that that was approaching. The sounds of battle caught her attention, and she looked down to see that the Scourge were already attacking, her people dieing in the thousands...

"This was the day that a lot of your own family died...this was the day you dreaded...the Holy Jailor quaking in her boots...trying to save her family...or what was left of it."

Shinaria looked to the near by house and saw scourge forces already overwhelming it. She watched as her family members were cut down before her very eyes. She screamed, chains appearing in her hands. She charged towards the massing undead, lashing out at them, cutting them down. An abomination quickly stopped her and slammed the back of it's cleaver into her stomach, the wind knocked out of her. She flew back and landed on her back, lights flashing before her eyes as a shadow begin to move slowly towards her.

She managed to open her eyes enough to notice the shape almost looked like Arthas himself. This wasn't right, Arthas didn't just stop by some family just to kill them..his intention was the Sunwell...not her family...why would he waste his time with them?

The Jailor blinked, and notice it wasn't Arthas at all, but Alisa, approaching with a long dagger in her hand "You've failed..all the things you wanted to protect, died. There is no hope for you, Shinaria Sunblaze...only the shadow of Death, that will slowly take you and warp it's cold arms around you...and embrace you for the rest of eternity."

She understood was all an illusion. Alisa was bringing her worst fears out, and then uses those to soften her opponents, before killing them. How cheap.

Slowly, Shinaria stood, Alisa still approaching. She closed her eyes, taking calming breaths. Her mental state was in a mess, her mind racing, her heart pounding didn't help. She needed to calm down, to calm her senses...she repeated in her mind "It's all and Illusion..."

Alisa raised her dagger, preparing to thrust it into Shinaria's heart...

"It's all and illusion....It's all and illusion......It's all and illusion......It's all and illusion....It's all and illusion....It's all and illusion....It's all and illusion..."

"It's all a illusion!"

Alisa lunged, Shinaria raising her hand to catch her by the wrist. Alisa's eyes widened before Shinaria struck her in the face, and then took her own hand and trusted the dagger straight into her chest before pulling her close. Shinaria leaned into Alisa's ear and whispered "This is what happens when you sign your life away with a sadistic wench...I hope it was worth it...." The Illusion around her shattered, and the image of Alisa faded. It wasn't even Alisa at all, in fact it was one of her Oracles.

The Oracle coughed, blood slowly trickling down her lip. She opened her mouth to say something, but fell to the side, dead, on the floor. Blood smeared the Jailor's breast plate and shoulder, but that hardly mattered to her, she just hopped that Kal and the others were doing okay.

"You past your test..." The actual Alisa said, Shinaria turning to face her. She had poured herself around glass of wine, a arm folded across her chest "But will your friends pass theirs?"


Kal was having his own problems. He stood by the lake he and Krystala used to visit when they were kids, he watched as the bullies he'd beat up for her continuously kicked kicked at the smaller and more fragile Krystala that laid curled up in a ball on the ground, screaming. He growled, curling his hands into fists and running over to throw them aside and pull his little sister to safety.

Just when he thought it was actually her, he looked down and notice that it was actually Alisa, smiling up at him "This is what you fear the lose the memories of little Krystala you once knew and cared about." Kal swore, letting go and taking a few rapid steps back. What was going on here? What magic was this?

Alisa stood, a long dagger in her hand "But look what I've done...I've turned your precious little sister into a monster...tell me..does that make you feel angry?"

It did.

Kal's breath began to come out more quickly, his anger raising with in his heart. He wanted to make the woman pay, and pay dearly.

"Kal don't listen to her."

The Blood Knight's eye's widened as his gaze caught sight of Krystala walking from behind her. She looked younger then, when she actually aged, she wore a pleasant white dress with a gold ribbon in her hair "It's all and Illusion, Kal, fight it."

And Illusion? Had he really fallen victim to such a cheap trick? "Damn son of a..." he said, drawing his katana and roaring. He charged at Alisa, who raised her dagger to defend herself. Useless, he battered it aside and drove his blade straight through her gut. Soon enough, the Illusion shattered, and the Oracle that was tricking Kal fell dead upon the floor. "Good, you made it out too." Shinaria said, turning to look over to the man. He stood behind the Jailor, his eyes focused on Alisa "Yea...can't say I approve of that kind of underhand trick..."

"Neither do I.." Shinaria nodded, turning her gaze back to Alisa as well "We have to let the others make it out of their own...hopefully they realize it's all a trick soon enough."

Sitting against the wall of the elevator, Adrian quietly fiddled with the charging handle of his rifle. The rest of his group joined them in the elevator and Krystala set them off towards their mark. He pulled a fragmentation grenade from his belt and looped his thumb in the pin of the grenade in his left hand. Krystala was singing. Adrian burped quietly in to his fist.

Nearing their destination, he stood up and yanked the charging handle back, loading a round in to the chamber. He pulled his goggled up to his eyes and they whirred and clicked to adjust themselves to the proper settings. He lifted his rifle and stepped next to Krystala as the elevator came to its halt. The doors opened and he stepped out. Darkwraiths were massed in front of them. Alizar was standing above them on a cat walk. He and Krystala exchanged words.

Adrian spaced out. Krystala dispatched of two enemies, The group was preparing to assault through this room. Adrian came back to reality and ripped the pin of his grenade out and threw it to their right, as Krystala went left. The Marksman raised his rifle and began drilling two successive rounds in to the center masses of the nearest threatening combatants. The recoil kicked in to his shoulder, but was immediately dulled by the surge of adrenaline coursing through him.

He took up the rear of the group, taking out any enemies trying to flank the group as they assaulted through to their objective. His shots were cold and calculated. Never wasting a round on a possible miss. Taking a knee and reloading his weapon, he ducked from the swipe of a blade. Springing to his feet, he drove the stock of his rifle in to his foes chin, causing him to stagger back. He ran the bayonet of his rifle through its chest and fired. Turning and running, he rejoined his group pushing through the ranks.
Rhaluzzian stepped off the elevator, cautiously scanning the immediate area as the group stepped into the hall. He was done talking, done with the banter. Shinaria took the initiative and rushed to strike Alisa, only to trigger the next trap the Darkwraths had in store. With the woman's spell cast, he could only hope to weather it's duration. Couldn't be that hard, right? He had survived so far.

When the magic took hold of him, the world went black. Trapped in his own mind, he was a much younger man again, wearing a white and gold robe his father was fond of forcing him to wear in his youth. The world was dark save for the path he stood on. In the distance, a dim light and faint sound, much akin to the grind of a clock. And behind him, the visage of Alisa appeared, wearing that ridiculous smirk smirk, slowly stalking after him.

The boy hissed and ran toward the light, the place of the past. "Follow me if you dare, wretch!" he called over his shoulder. "A warlock's mind is a maze, you'll never see me lead you into the trap. You'll die in Memoria!"

Memoria. That's what he called his memories, a place he could visit to relive the good times and learn from his mistakes. And sometimes temper his fury. The landscape in Memoria was cyrtalline, but it shifted constantly. Forest, elven architecture, under water. Sometimes a large fram would form to distract Alisa with a memory. The sight of a bloodied Rhaluzzian tumbling down the stairs as his insane father cast him out of the family home and Silvermoon City.

Shifting to the next, coming to his threadbare home deep in the woods of Lordaeron and finding his wife to be murdered, her killers laughing like jackals just before he exploded in seething rage. Another frame showed the numerous times he had secluded himself in ponds and lakes all over Azeroth, hiding while he wrestled with his demonic power and his own souring sense of failure.

A common theme there after was his solitude, the consuming lonliness, even as he became swept up in world events. But seemingly, Memoria spat Alisa upon a ledge, a vast expanse before her. Below, Young Rhaluzzian stood poised on an object of obvious nerubian design, the Puzzelbox of Yogg- Saron. He was busy conjuring more and more chains to weigh it down and keep it stationary, for the chains were eroding and the box seeming to twitch and shudder to rid itself of his chains.

The chains also extended up into the sky, where above hung a massive, midnight blue form, very much like the modern warlock did in the waking world. Though on his bare chest the demonic tattoo glowed green. Alisa would laugh mockingly. He suffered from what most any other warlock suffered: losing control. Not only of his own fel magic, but he had unearthed an object that whispered of the Old Gods. A responsibility to keep others safe from it, but too afriad to destroy it.

"Get out of here!" he demanded, clambering about the massive puzzelbox as the intruder came down to him, still wearing that mocking grin. "It's so cozy here," she said, that sickeningly sweet voice of hers. "You've done it, haven't you realized? You dug too far, the search for answers will yield horrors, you know that. You think hiding it from the rest of your little firends will save you? You even did a pathetic job of hiding it," Alisa said, extending her left hand, holding the real Puzzelbox out in her hand.

The world stopped, his heart thundered in his chest. He hid it, how could she have known about it? Now that she had it, he was in grave danger. No one would stop until he was dead for bring it out of the depths of Azjol Nerub. In an instant, Alisa crushed the artifact, and the weight of his failure destroyed the object he stood on, it's corruption now out of his care. The chains seized him as the figure in the sky growlled, scowling as if it was waking prematurely.

The tattoo on it's chest had a circle left open in it's center, but now green began to seep into it. He was held aloft, frantically mumbling to himself. it was over, he had failed, he wanted to become strong enough to defend his ungrateful, ignorant, bigoted homework from the return of the Burning Legion. All the sacrifice he had made of himself to get this far, was now ultimately wasted. Alisa floated up to him, sweet smile on her face and dagger in hand.

"Well, you did give it an honest try. You just failed too much right at the very end. Well, I suppose the nice thing is to put you out of your misery."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Rhaluzzian howled in the real world, on his hands and knees, bashing his forehead into the ground. His blackened blood soon oozed from his face and began to eat away at the floor. But then, it began to glow, slowly turning green. Fel green. In his mind, he focused on his sacrifice. The small pieces of himself he gave up for power, the power to vanquish an enemy that needed to die.

Countless Scourge, demons, and cultists of every stripe. One more sacrifice now. As the Oracle closed in on him, Rhaluzzian roared, a very unelven roar. Choking hot smoke roiled off him, obscuring him as he gave up the most important aspect of being a warlock. Control. From the moke two great wings unfurled, stretching as a muscular tail thrashed the ground. Rising from the smokescreen, a tall, growling demon, eyes closed as the painful transformation came to completetion.

Deep blue skin, demonic runes lightly glowing on his body. Then his eyes opened, fel magic crackling from them. Laying eyes on what he thought to be Alisa in his mind, he seized the Oracle by the neck, snickering like a sinister villian as he dagger failed to puncture his skin more than a light scratch. Snacking the blade from her hand, he slammed her into the floor, forcing all air from her lungs before the dagger pierced her chest. Through and through into the floor.

His fury not abated, he lept up from where he stood, inhaled a great breath, then exhaled a torrent of shadowflame, incinerating the Oracle and scouring a good deal of the floor under and surrounding her. Touching down, he growled as it actually ached to be calmer now, the magic faded from him as Alisa still breathed. His eyes narrowed and thick tail thrashed against the ground.

"You... I will flay your soul from your body and banish it to the Nether. You will be forsaken by everything there," he threatened, baring his teeth as he recovered, "Your pissant of a husband will be bound in saronite and sunk deep under Icecrown Glacier, to be tormented by the whispers there. You have given form to your doom: we have come for your blood and soul."


Catastrokon waited impatiently for the elevator ride. The banter was grating his nerves yet again. But then, something odd seemed to abate it. Krystala began to sing, something that sounded a little tame, but it wasn't some tame happy song. He found his hoof tapping in beat with her. That ended abruptly, signalling it was time to get back to work. Alizar was unimpressive, more chatty than the death knight would have liked.

The Darkwrath summoned two casters which the Witch dispatched, then to his delight, summoned more things to destroy. Taking his great blade in both hands, Tombclimber lept from the elevator and both master and minion made direct chase to the closest Dark Thane. This one had a sword and dagger, meaning it liked to press relentless attack. Fine with the death knight.

"It's a shame only you will bleed, Darkwrath. Your constructs leave me feeling unfulfilled," Catastrokon taunted, parrying the sword and dodging the dagger to punch the handle of his sword into it's middle and stagger it, then go for it's exposed legs. Tombclimber was harassing a nearby spellcaster, merely distracting it whilst searching for a fleshy part to attack.
Sammuroth returned Krystala's glare with a smile, his aged mind found her glare to be more cute than threatening, but he still knew she was far from the cute, and cuddly type. Still he wondered what she would be like if the Darkwraths had not gotten to her, it was an interesting prospect, but unfortunately one that would never be seen. The elevator stopped, and the druid looked in awe at the construct before them, have they really come so far in their plan? It wasn't really important all that mattered was stopping the Darkwraths, and their "Project Midnight," and Krystala seemed all to eager to get to Alizar, as she rushed out of the elevator killing anything that got in her way. The druid looked to the huntress, "Well I guess we should get moving as well, can't let Krystala have all the fun can we?" The druid stepped off the elevator, and rushed two nearby spellcasters, that were distracted trying to kill Krystala, and that distraction cost them their lives, as the druid gutted one, and riped the other's throat out. Turning back to the elevator he said, "Well are the rest of you coming, or are you going to let Krystala do all the work herself?"
Bryah stepped off the elevator, glad to be actually moving again, but a little apprehensive. The feeling that they were being toyed with, herded into a trap and straight out hunted increased the deeper into the fortress they travelled. It was a feeling that wasn't eased but the sudden appearance, and disappearance of Alizar. Bryah smiled as she heard Krystala tell her former mentor to "Drop.Dead.". The witch had guts.

Krystala ran on chasing Alizar after she defeated two of the casters, leaving the group to follow in their wake. “Damn it Krystala. Stop. They're leading you and us into a trap. We should make them come to us.” Bryah had no doubts that Krystala would ignore her, if she even heard her. The witch was too intent on stopping Project Midnight to think and listen to reason. She followed the witch, shooting anything that got in the way. There was no way on Azeroth that Bryah was going to let Krystala walk in to that trap alone. As resourceful and tough as the witch was, she was going up against the people who made her who she was, the ones that trained her and knew her every weakness.
As the elevator doors opened, Peregrine stepped forth with the rest of the group, finding Alisa Darkwrath lounging on a throne. She stirred a glass of wine idly as she taunted the group, “"Welcome, heroes...It's so lovely to see you all again, hopefully with better taunts this time than when we first met." Her eyes looked over to Peregrine when she said this, a insane grin spreading across her face. What the fel is it with everybody and not appreciating a proper insult? Peregrine thought and she matched Darkwrath’s insane grin with a haughty smirk of her own. Go ahead, underestimate me. Write me off.

A pink mist surrounded the group before Peregrine could act. As she rubbed her eyes, she realized she wasn’t in the Darkwrath’s fortress anymore. She was in a place she thought no longer existed. She was lying with her back to a fencepost, in the paddock behind her parent’s inn near Tranquilen. The sun was bright, grass green. There was no sign of the scourge damage.

Was all this another daydream? The Lich King? Northrend? Draenor? , she thought to herself as she looked down at her homespun clothes and the wooden training sword on the grass beside her. The sun was getting low, it was almost choretime and her mother would be most displeased if she came in dirty from her daydreaming. Peregrine the warrioress was one of her favorite fantasies. It kept the days of El’oana, the innkeeper’s daughter sane. One day she’d amount to something and join the spellbreakers like her uncle. Who are you kidding? You’ll end up a nobody out here in Tranquilen.

“There she is! The innkeeper’s daughter!” a child’s voice called. “Lookit, she’s got a sword!” another mocking voice responded. And suddenly she was surrounded by a group of children, some her age, some older, chanting and mocking her. “Can’t even cast a spell, the littlest spell…” “She’s S-L-O-W” “No! She’s just dumb!” The jibes continued. “Look at those clothes! Who wears that? Why didn’t you just conjure yourself some better clothes! Oh, that’s right you can’t cast a spell!” “El’oana, she’s a dummy!”

They had her completely encircled now. The taunts continued, she felt a mixture of rage and embarrassment. Her face blushed beet red. A ball of magical fire flew past her face. “What’s the matter? Can’t you counter a simple little spell? Don’t you know anything?” More little spells flew from the encircling children. A ball of ice pelted her right shoulder and it started to ache. She felt tears coming on. She tried to push past the group, to get to her parents but her feet were bound to the ground, rooted by ice. Maybe they’re right, maybe I am stupid. Maybe I am worthless.

“Careful, don’t want to make the stupid little nothing girl mad!” , catcalled the ringleader. “She might hurt us with her sword!” With a flick of her wrist the ringleader of the children cast a spell and set the wooden training sword ablaze and cackled. She moved insanely fast, so fast she seemingly appeared right behind El’oana’s (Peregrine’s) shoulder. She leaned in for another biting word, “Nothing but a talentless fool! You don’t even belong! You’ll never amount to anything.”

El’oana started to retort… “I have talent!” Wait. Talentless fool? And never belong where? All that sounds familiar. Her mind started to work furiously. Something’s not right… I don’t recognize anybody? As she thought, the ringleader leaned in to whisper in her other ear, and El’oana saw the glint of an exposed dagger blade appearing at the corner of her eye. Illusion! This is all an illusion! By instinct she grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the dagger and with far more strength than any adolescent girl should have had, she wrenched the ringleader around.

The illusion dissolved, and she was back in the Darkwrath’s citadel. The ringleader was one of Alisa’s oracles and the dagger was very real. But Peregrine had control of the wrist and had spun her around so that now it was she who was behind the oracle. “I’ve news for you. I have plenty of talents. Allow me to illustrate.”

A quick twist and the orcale’s dagger arm was broken. As the oracle cried in pain, Peregrine kicked the back of her knee, sending the oracle crashing to the floor. In one fluid motion, the Sin’Dorei warrioress snatched her warblade from the floor and drove it through the oracle’s neck. As the blood drained from the oracle’s neck, Peregrine strode to stand with Kal and Shinaria. “See? Magic, I separated your head from your neck.”, she called to the lifeless corpse. She smiled a mirthless smile to Kal.
Lineron put on a bored expression at the cat. "Well here I was offering you some candy and then you go and try and put me in my place. So be it, I suppose. A warning though." Lineron took another bite of the healthstone then swallowed it. "If you do manage to kill me, which I doubt extremely, you will have one incredibly pissed off warlock who raised me sense childhood on your !@#. As well as her son who the only reason why he will be pissed, is because he didn't do it himself." Lineron smirked at the thought of his nephew, Carinoth, finding out he died again. "Idiot boy....really needs to get himself a girl." He muttered to himself. Lineron leaned back against the elevator's wall and glanced over to Krystala when she started singing. 'She likes to act older, but she will always be that little girl she looks like.' When the elevator doors opened he smiled insanely at Alizar then shouldered his runeblade. When Krystala dashed out towards Alizar, Lineron let out a insane chuckle. "Good on you Little Witch."

“Damn it Krystala. Stop. They're leading you and us into a trap. We should make them come to us.”

He turned toward the Farstrider then let out a hiss and flicking his snake like tongue. "Quit complaining and just kill people." Lineron glanced towards Bonereaper. "Stay up with me. Maim anyone who comes to close." Bonereaper groaned then nodded to his master. Lineron kept up with the group as they ran towards temple in the center of the room. He Death Griped a Shadowmancer and grabbed him by the throat. "Oh how I love the smell of freshly dropped blood of pricks in the morning." He crushed his throat then filled him with unholy magic and threw him at a incoming Dark Thane. Before the Shadowmancer landed on the Dark Thane, he exploded with blood and gore covering his immediate area, and the infected bile landing on the Dark Thane and causing it to start melting. "You just can't hate unholy magic. Its got to the best thing ever since Circletine." Lineron said in triumph then continued running towards the temple.

Daenith stood in the elevator, watching as several rooms past by with different forms of torture. 'I. Will. Burn. Them.' She continually thought in her mind. When they finally reached the top floor, Alisa was sitting sat in one of the two thrones. Daenith twirled her staff in her hand and let out a demonic growl, as well as barring her growing demonic teeth. Jaktip hopped off of her shoulder then lit his arms on fire, while giggling insanely. When Shinaria charged Daenith rushed towards her as well but was quickly surrounded by a pink mist then everything went black.

((Part 1 of 2))
"OH DEAR SWEET MERRY MOTHER OF FEL!" Daenith jumped up from her bed, panting from the sudden rush. The sunlight was drifting in from her window and the smell of perfume was in the air. Daenith rubbed her head, trying to get rid of the pain that was building in it. "Fel damn it...." Eventually the pain dissipated and she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror of her room. She gasped in astonishment as she looked at her reflection....she was alive again. Her black bangs were cascading down her shoulders, her long elven ears had returned, her skin white as snow. Daenith gripped her face and smiled as she felt it once again. She gripped her elven ears and felt them, playing with them like a child. She heard her door open and turned around to see her son, Carinoth, giving one his rare smiles at her.
"Mother, breakfast is ready. You know how much uncle hates waiting for us." Daenith ran up to him, giving him a big hug and sobbing tears of joy into his chest.
" alive....thank the light! My nightmare is ov-" She looked up to see his eye sockets are hollow and filled with shadow. "Carinoth!" Carinoth slumped on to her and started moaning as if he was in pain. She layed him flat on her floor then ran down the stairs of her estate looking for her brother. "Lin! Lin damn it, Carinoth is hurt! We have t-" She came into the kitchen and saw her brother being stabbed repeatedly by Alisa Darkwrath. Daenith fell to her knee's with more tears cascading down her cheeks. "My family is dead.....everything I ever cared gone....." Alisa looked up from Lineron and smiled insanely at Daenith.

"Family is such a precious've spent your entire life protecting it from the dangers of the world.....only to have them taken from you.....even your beauty is a falsehood." Alisa snapped her fingers and Daenith lurched forward in pain. She looked at her hands and saw the flesh on them start to rot away and her hands becoming pointed once again.
"No....not again.....not this again." She let out a loud sob as she grasped her stomach in pain, feeling her insides rot. Alisa walked to her and kneeled next to her, keeping that insane smile.
"So pathetic....time to end you." She raised her dagger into the air, aiming for Daenith's back but then suddenly, she yelped in alarm and her dagger fell to the ground. "Get off of me whelp!" Alisa cried out trying to get something off of her face.
"The fel?" Daenith mumbled then stood up and looked at Alisa wrestling with Jaktip, who was scratching and biting her face. ".....I say again, the fel?" She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see her succubus, Mirvina looking at her with a bored expression.
"As much as I enjoy the suffering of mortals, I like you master. That and I owed Jaktip a favor." Alisa had stood and Jaktip was still clawing at her head, but glanced back and smirked.
"Akraghun, still wants you for the record." Jaktip said in a squeaky voice. Daenith tilted her head in confusion, Mirvina sighed in annoyance.

((Part 2 of 3 becauseknowicantcountgoddamnitLiaiblameyou))

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