Disclaimer: WarCraft and all related names and such do not belong to me... I do hope you enjoy this story, based on a pen-and-paper adventure I worked out set in the WarCraft universe. Please, do drop your reviews off as you read and let me know what you think.
True Demons
By William Logan
Prologue: The Tower of Arugal
Aalinyah Sunhunter reached her slender hand out and grasped the bleeding shoulder of her companion, a stout Dwarf who clutched onto his large warhammer fiercely, his eyes blazing as he watched the skirmish unfold before them, seemingly unaware of his wound.
"Light heal you," she whispered, and the wound rapidly sealed up, leaving only a few specks of blood behind as a reminder of its existance, she brushed a few strands of silver hair away from her eyes as she turned her attention back to the two mages locked in combat before them. One, the dark lord of the keep they presently occupied the highest tower of, Arugal the Vile, whose black robes billowed about him as he gesticulated fiercely at her companion, a young man by the name of Xelvar, decked in blood red robes and sporting a shaved head and a small tuft of black hair on his chin.
"You enter my keep," Arugal snarled, a bolt of black lightning flashing forth from his hand, narrowly missing Xelvar, causing a bubbling flask of viscous liquid to explode, its contents slowly dripping off the shelf onto the floor, "slaughter my sons and now seek to kill me..."
"You speak as if you treated us like honored guests when we entered here, sorcerer," the younger mage sneered back, "the Kirin Tor have been calling for your death for years... I don't even think they knew what you were up to in here... these horrific experiments... these wolf-men you created." A bolt of fire leapt from his hand, catching Arugal squarely in the chest, leaving his robes smouldering and causing the elder mage to stumble backwards. At this moment of faltering, the Dwarf, one Thannt Thunderstrike of the Wildhammers leapt forward with a mighty war shout and swung low at the Master of Shadowfang Keep, causing him to land flat on his back.
"You dare judge me, boy! You know not what other horrors have been birthed by the Kirin Tor... sons of whores like Kel'Thuzad... I only sought to make my own creations, not destroy those of others..."
"Your creations are abominations, Arugal..." Xelvar hissed, slowly approaching the prone wizard, who now scrambled backwards a bit, running into a bookcase, a look of horror crossing his face as he realized he was trapped, "and now your judgement comes." Without another word, Xelvar made a lightning-fast gesture, an explosion of arcane energy shooting forth from his fingertips and instantly forming a gaping hole in the chest of the defenseless wizard, his head now hanging limp and lifeless, his face, forever locked in an expression of shock and horror, mostly obscured by his graying hair.
"Our orders were to kill him only as a last resort!" The elven priestess snapped, "not to blast him to pieces the first opportunity we got!"
"The situation called for... somewhat less tact and somewhat more firepower," Xelvar said, a smirk appearing across his lips as he wiped some sweat from his brow, "he was in the way of our goal..."
The Aalinyah retorted, "He was our goal! The Kirin Tor wanted to interro---"
"The Kirin Tor," Xelvar interrupted, voice even and cool, "are a bunch of doddering old fools who do nothing but sit back and judge the actions of others. They are hardly any better than the Silver Hand, simply criticizing those who have the gall to do what others refuse..."
"I'm gonna hafta agree with the lad," Thannt interjected, "I donnae think Arugal woulda given us halfa chance t'beg fer mercy had th' tables been turned." He dabbed at a wound on his head that cut through one of his many deep blue tribal tattoos.
"Well... gather up whatever you all may need... I am done in this abyssmal place. I simply want to return home to my family," Aalinyah grimaced, a chill going down her spine as she looked around at the candlelit room filled with books and various potions, most of which did not look to be particularly healthful. Xelvar simply laughed, a sharp, harsh sound.
"Come now, surely you want to celebrate our victory," he swept his hand across a table, knocking over a number of astronomical instruments, priceless by the looks of their age alone, which shattered on the ground. He then reached into his pack and procured three goblets and a large bottle of wine, "I picked this up on our way through Southshore..." he made a gesture at the top of the bottle and the cork flew off, "Come now... drink..." he began pouring a glass for each of them. Aalinyah looked down at the corpse of their enemy, shuddering at the idea of drinking over the dead. She was a priestess of the Light, and such things as killing were not to be celebrated, but as she looked at her companions, who were likely far less interested in good and evil and sinners and saints and far more interested in bashing skulls or setting them on fire or somesuch, she reluctantly agreed, lifting a goblet to her lips and taking a long sip. Perhaps the wine could help her forget some of what she'd seen that day. The dwarf, naturally, had already swallowed the contents of his cup whole. Xelvar held his goblet up to his mouth and lowered it, smiling slowly at his companions.
"What is so funny, mage?"
"Nothing... nothing at all... rest well, the both of you... for peaceful rest will not be yours for long." The words had barely left his mouth before Aalinyah had dropped to the floor, her life almost instantly leaving her. The Dwarf, naturally being more resilient to poisons, had already started to reach for his warhammer again.
"What treachery is this, laddie?"
"Just something I put together... don't worry.. you'll get to fight another day, Master Dwarf... in fact... you will more than likely fight for an eternity as my servant," Xelvar grinned even wider, "you won't feel much pain just now... I assure you, dear Aalinyah probably didn't even realize she finished her sentence before she died..." the Dwarf's arms slumped, his warhammer clanking to the ground in his loose grip, Xelvar ticking off seconds on his fingers, finally stopping as Thannt dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, "Almost a full second before it got through your system... impressive..." he smiled, pulling a large spellbook, covered with dark runes and demonic figures, out from his bag, "Now... to get to work on raising you..."