battle

            “Saej, come over here.”

            He can still hear her voice in his memory even now. Full of sweet care, to the toddler quel’dorei it was the sound of love itself.

            But that’s all. A voice, her beautiful voice.

            And a man, strong and intense. “Let him carry it,” he said to her, and chuckled, “he’s the strongest child I’ve ever seen.”

((Remember this writing challenge? I fiddled with it a few times in drafts and notes, but was never satisfied. Until I was doing new dailies and seeing how my passive spell abilities worked toward completion credit.))

The druid screamed in rage, bursting into a flaming cat to rake at Lirriel's shining bubble.

The dense heat of the Firelands made the priestess cough as she summoned a pillar of Holy Light down onto the fiery feline. Around her, the fallen Defenders she'd struggled to reach gasped as healing energies reflected off the spell and into their injured bodies.

The soggy morning air hung heavily around the walls of Warden’s Vigil, clinging to the brows of the soldiers who sat in single file along the easternmost edge of the main fortification, their eyes fixed on the now-empty gate and barren horizon. They were battered, heads in their hands, and a dark-haired priestess shuffled among the ranks, ladling cool mouthfuls of water out for whoever was willing. Another much younger initiate followed behind the priestess, a basket filled with bandages and salves clutched between her shaking hands.

Rhianon, perched on the top of the fortress’s highest wall, watched the two of them appreciatively. Water and simple salves could do little in this momentary respite from battle, but she could see tentative smiles dance across the soldiers’ faces as the two priestesses passed. Even now, as cold rain trickled down their backs and battles raged just over the horizon, the soldiers’ minds wandered back to a sun-bathed cathedral in Stormwind, or maybe some distant childhood stories of noble paladins bearing their forces to victory under the name of the Holy Light. She had heard some shaman around the Exodar bemoaning the fact that whatever authority they might gain over time, they would never mean to their people what an Anchorite or a Vindicator would mean. Rhianon was, however, perfectly happy with her status in society. She certainly didn’t want anyone making wooden toy figurines out of her, thank you very much!

It was becoming tiring, the effort I had to put forth to keep them at bay. Tali was taking too much damage, but she was reckless that way.

What a day...Aya thought to herself as she sat in her hammock in the Gadgetzan tavern, watching over the wounded and sleeping. Her fingers played over the strings of the guitar sitting in her lap, soft tunes filling the air, as if to help banish the horrible events of the evening. There wasn't much that could be done for the village, which Aya had just started to call home. They had landed in Tanaris after some kind of stone they had been working on teleported them there. Sadly, she couldn't remember for the life of her what they were called.

Everything happened rather fast. Tamati was injured. Imtul was dead. Honestly, Aya didn't have a clue what to say about any of it. It was her first time meeting some of these people. The only thing she could offer was a song of mourning before they were off to find shelter from the cold of the desert night.

He would have sworn his brain was smoldering, like the last coal in a fire, dark and warm.  He swam as hard as he could, the sounds of battle behind him; the angry Tribesmen banding with the very beasts of the Echo Isles hot behind him.

They don’t want me, you know who they want, Moshy, the troll thought to himself.  His muscles ached, his head aflame as he swam against the compulsions that, though still powerful, were no longer irresistible.  His body cried out its hunger as he swam, threatening with every stroke to let him loose to sink down into the blessedly cool rest promised beneath the water’s surface.  Damn you Zalazane, was the thought that burned in his mind, you wanted power for none but yourself.

He'd nearly passed out, lost his vision, but someone, or something had kept agging him on. The Soldiers around him pushing on his heavy plate covered form. The loss of blood had made him weak...he wasn't even sure he could make it...and then the world went black. 

No one noticed.

She had stood there, in that doorway to the trainer quarters. Eyes locked on the image of Aelberyn smiling and talking in hushed tones to Liore. Her own voice rose when she initially spotted Liore, not quite taking in the full scene. "Where have you been?! You're never going to finish the p-- What's going on? What happened?" Nobody answered. Not even flicked a lash in her direction. Aelberyn was a priest, she used the light. That made Fox wary and even a bit uncomfortable around the woman who stood within arm’s reach of her fellow mechanic. Liore hadn't moved however, he definitely didn't go to punch the woman before him in the face....It had to be that Kaldorei. Had to be. That was it, the last straw; she grabbed her crossbow by mid section and cocked it with one hand.

Her blonde hair flows freely about her pale features, a smirk twisting her lips as she crouches low, hiding deep within the shadows. Her green eyes are filled with mirth, even as she holds her daggers at the ready. She is silent, patient; she is death in both form and function. The cold wind sends a shiver up her spine, chilling her beneath the black leather of her armor and nearly giving her away as she fights the urge to shudder. He will hear her. She knows he will. It is merely a matter of when; for a moment can deter a death and a moment can end a life. 

She is the Lady Sinobel, apprentice of Alainthal Starwhisper, servant of the Baroness Aelberyn… She has many such moments, dwelling in silence, patiently waiting – moments in which the world itself unfolds with in her mind. Alainthal will never see her coming, such is her mind this evening.

"Just going to stand there and watch me burn, well that’s alright because I like the way it hurts.”

The coins hit the floor, just a strange melody across the burned floor, the only sound save for his shallow breathing. It was a strange rhythm together, the sound echoing against breaths.. and the both of us.

The Hellfire dust hissed with a hollow, metallic noise as it was borne on the hot wind and pelted against Umbuya’s plate armor. He stood in the regimented unit of other Horde warriors, his height making him more shoulder-to-shoulder with his Tauren compatriots than the orcs or his own race.

General Krakork was shouting something, barking in Orcish while pacing in front of the assembled warparty. All Umbuya could hear was the hiss of the sand against his armor. It hissed on his shoulders, his plate chest, but most of all it sang in his helmet.

As the wind shifted and danced, the sound increased or waned, like the pain that assaulted his head. He had a headache. He always, always had a headache. There were knots in his back, and his muscles all throbbed with a dull complaint.

The events of the past few days had lead to this.  I had reached my limit.  Torn through emotionally, beaten down physically…. What was left in the aftermath was the ruin of the gates to my home.  The spattering of battle and bodies along the smoldering ground of a once healthy garden.

        The menacing, buzzing whine of spinning saws was deafening to Rueka as she padded a circle around the mechanical goblin construct, her nose clogged by noxious black fumes that gurgled their way out of steel pipes, making her eyes burn and itch. Rueka snorted angrily, raking the forest floor with a furry boulder of a paw. The shredder looked more like a metal demon than anything else, its torso a maw of fire below two burning green lights. “Shoo! Get movin’,” shouted the goblin. “I wouldn’t mind skinning you, you big dumb animal!” The goblin’s bright voice cut through the din, his little hands making dismissive gestures at her in between working the controls of his infernal contraption. Rueka experienced a smug amusement brought on by the midget-greenskin’s ignorance, letting her gaze momentarily drift to the Warsong Lumber Camp looming behind him under overcast skies.

Sidhara had not planned for things to turn out like this, but the meddling Laciuna Stormleaf had forced her hand. If Akiri would have been around when she needed her, she could better control her army born from technomancy. She probably would have been able to build more than 9 units as well, since this already pushed her abilities to keep them in check. She could probably manage 9 units, but why stretch her own abilities when she could use someone else and not worry about when that resource might expire?

The last of her belongings had been packed by the servants who remained loyal out of fear or perhaps a true and strange sense of loyalty. The ones who had even thought of betraying her, and a few that had not, were killed and left laying in the hallways where they fell.

All nine of her magical mechanations were outside of the manor holding off the guards who had come to arrest Sidhara and confiscate her forbidden research. Several guards had been killed or wounded in their attempt to enter the Cloudsong property and they were now keeping their distance while tending to the wounded and waiting for more substantial backup.

 It is ritual before battle.

 It slashed me across the face again and ripped me out of an untimely reverie.

The temperature in Silvermoon is almost suffocatingly warm today. It hardly ever changes, but right now I feel as if someone must have set the fountain to boil and put a lid over the walls, let us steam. Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's this stuffy little apartment, my one-room sanctuary now serving two tenants. Not that I'm complaining- Rann's a much better housekeeper than I am, let me tell you.

[ Had a blast with a mess of awesome folks last night mauling Sylvanas. Got inspired by all the brilliance in vent. :x ]

[ For more about Ythika, and the Blood and Felfire storyline, check out bloodandfelfire.blogspot.com ]

[ A bit of a battle sequence and internal dialogue.  For added effect, read this while listening to "Ghost Love Score" by Nightwish. You'll thank me later. ;) ]

[ Want more than the usual 55 Words at a time? Check out the Blood and Felfire Blog! ]

Asilia raged forward holding frozen star low to the ground storming onward, her mind nearly blocking out the rest of the fight. She sought out new foes like an unholy killing machine. And then attack with a ferocity and strength they were unprepared for. Ignoring their blades, she struck out with pure offensive strength. Soon she approached the entrance of the barracks and a rather formidable force of scarlets were waiting, set up in a picket line behind barricades. Asilia raised her blade into the air before pointing it at the scarlets with an icy flash.

((My own rendition of the fall of New Avalon near Ebon holds. I doubt this is really a spoiler or anything since you can see the ruins ingame. And I'm not really going by Death Knight quests since I don't have to much information. Hopefully its semi enjoyable to read, still working on the second part but it was getting long enough that it seemed best to split this post into two parts.)

 Asilia nearly jumped out of the chair several hours later as she felt Lt. Feroxx's glowering stare fall upon her. It was enough to break her transfixed stare she had towards the alchlemic supplies. There seemed to be an added anger to his gaze that she guessed was borne from her earlier tinkering on the other side of the room. He didn't mention it however and instead launched into what he came to say to her.

She stood staring down at the expanse below her, to the line of troops advancing towards her own force. Asilia merely smiled as she watched the Scarlet Banners approach, the inane jibbering of her small army was like a howl on the icy wind. One jabbering ghoul walked up beside her hunched over and broken, she reached out and ran her hand against its head cooing at the creature as if it was a dog.

The Scarlet Force stopped midway up the snowy hill sounding their battlehorns, and asilia's force responded in kind with the ghouls howling and abominations gnashing their teeth. As the two forces taunted each other Asilia suddenly spotted fire within the scarlet force.

"..Mages.."

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Xannivard eyes widened suddenly, the sensation of warm, green, fetid water flowing over him bringing him out of a bewildering black out. He looked upward to locate the source of water that was currently drenching him, only to sputter indignantly as water flowed into his nose and knocked his blue shades from his face. Snarling he stood swiftly and blocked the flow of water with a barrier of Fel as he observed his surroundings.