I don't own Warcraft, heck I don't even own Warrick, Bala, Garrimar, Telia, T'larc and Thorian... so feel free to create them on WoW if you want. Nefarian is, I believe, already taken though ;P lol
Tried to do my research; if I got something wrong, msg me and will change immediately. I want it to be as correct as possible (i.e. the colour of a Shadow Bolt. Greeny-purple if I remember correctly. It is 1:30am in the morning though so my memory might be a little off.)
I might remind people that because I'm speed-writing this, it counts as still being in editing stages. Suggestions are VERY appreciated.
Killing was his business… and business was good.
The Night Elf from the top of the massive stone staircase tumbled, rolling until he came to a rest at Warrick's feet. The Warlock eyed the dead Priest with disgust and let the last greenish light of a Shadowbolt throb and die in his palm. He took a moment to relieve the dead Elf of his purse and continued up the staircase from which he'd been momentarily interrupted.
The tower around him was a lavish one. Embroidered curtains filtered the approaching light of sunset from the windows and richly decorated furniture lay either side of the sandstone hallway. Warrick paid no attention to them however; his attention turned to the sounds of yet another fight happening in a room further ahead.
Small explosions, shouts and the hum of magic echoed down the hallway. There was a loud 'whoosh' and another Priest was thrown from the room, out of the entrance and hit the wall of the hallway opposite with a sick 'thud'. Struggling to get to his feet, the young Elf looked up to see the Warlock standing over him menacingly.
Warrick smiled; his pale skin stretching perilously over his sharp cheekbones, and he tapped his staff on the floor twice, making two sharp bangs before he swept it around and sent the Priest flying back into the room with a thunderous smack to the torso.
The battered Elf groaned and shifted on the floor, his hands pulsing with a greenish light as he tried to Flash Heal.
Booted heels suddenly crushed down on his arms, breaking his concentration – and both his wrists – with a cry. The woman lent down slowly, still trapping his arms and letting her lips brush his ear softly.
"Have you seen Death?" She breathed, golden yellow eyes glinting in the late afternoon light. The Elf – barely 100 summers old – groggily opened his eyes and saw Warrick playing with a green light in his hands. The light flicked from one hand to the other like a stream of lightning, casting a sick green glow over Warrick's drawn face.
His heart shuddered, seeing the light in the Warlock's hands, yet he snarled;
"I do not fear death, traitor!"
"Good." Warrick grinned, "Then you won't squirm as much."
He cast the light like a line, letting it catch on the young Elf's soul… and pulled. The Elf screamed and thrashed, feeling his soul tear from his bones inch by painful inch. The woman above him refused to budge though, keeping him still as Warrick tore the soul from the Night Elf's body. After a few moments however, she turned away; looking instead at the mask of ecstasy on Warrick's face rather than the one of hideous pain on the Priest's.
The Elf suddenly stilled; the green line that had drained his soul snapped back to its master and he stumbled, leaning against the stone wall for support. A tiny purple gem slipped from his grasp and the woman spun and leapt in an instant – catching the precious Soul Shard before it was shattered on the hard floor.
Warrick shook his head, purplish lights dancing before his eyes. He saw the woman with her slender fingers around the Soul Shard and snarled, lifting her with one hand around her neck like a rag doll and slamming her against the wall – his teeth bared like a beast.
She made no move to stop him – she couldn't.
Wincing with the impact of the stones on her back, she opened her palm slowly. Warrick's eyes glimmered for a second and the purple haze that had clouded them dissipated. He took the shard from her and slipped it into a bag he wore on the hip of his robe.
"My apologies Bala… I…" He stopped, eyes avoiding her and lingering on the rest of the room. He could feel the piteous gaze she was giving him, golden eyes cast down at him in disapproval. He let his hand slide down her bare shoulder and fall to his side. He finally looked back; the woman with wild long black hair and golden eyes eyed him accusingly.
"You said you could control it."
The Warlock felt the stirrings of anger in his stomach.
"… and I will." He growled testily.
"So until then you take this out on myself?"
"Until then you will hold your tongue!" Warrick snapped. Bala clenched her jaw tightly, but said nothing – her cat-like eyes shooting daggers into his own dark browns.
"We must keep moving. His screams may have alerted the others." Warrick muttered as he turned and left the room. Bala followed not far behind him; yellowish flames escaping to dance across her fingers as she attempted to keep her temper, leaving the Elf Priest on the floor - as cold as the stone he lay on.
"Are you losing your stomach for death, Bala?"
Bala stared across the flames of the fire between them at the Warlock. Warrick was grinning impishly as he tore a chunk off a stag tenderloin and tossed it in her direction. She caught it deftly but remained silent, taking a bite from it savagely.
The silence in the night enveloped them; not even the howl of a Wolf or disgruntled chatter of a Murlock to disturb it save the crackle and pop of the fire. The tower they had cleared that evening rose up from the hill behind them, dwarving them at its foot.
"So silent… I'd forgotten what it was like to hear silence."
Bala paused, spitting a bone into the fire with a hiss and eyeing him distastefully. He had changed – a young man once so handsome and passionate for the Alliance Cause...
She closed her eyes and tried to remember. The pale, gaunt man before her was no longer the Warrick that she had met so long ago. His once deeply tanned skin was thin, stretched and pale over his bones – his face drawn and gaunt, eyes dark and brooding… except when the Hunger came over him. His weapon skills had also suffered with his increased aptitude with magic. His solid muscles, knotted hard yet tender at the same time had withered with disuse. It had been so long since he had touched her the way he used to…
Power was all he craved now.
The malicious taunting was a new development lately. He was short of temper, obsessed with uprooting souls from mortal bodies. At any moment now the Undead legion that was following them would arrive. They had been sent ahead to clear the tower on purpose – the Horde knew how to exploit ones weaknesses to their own ends and so had been able to predict Warricks eagerness to obtain more Soul Shards by clearing the tower.
The light sound of crystal ringing against crystal captured Balas attention. Warrick was standing, counting the Soul Shards in his fingers and turning them softly. Rounding the fire, Bala approached to look closer. She had little idea of how many innocents they had killed to obtain them.
"What are you using them for?" She whispered sweetly.
"Using what for?" He asked innocently, closing his palm and dropping the stones into his robe pocket. Bala felt her temper stir.
"Don't play coy, Warrick. You're collecting souls for something."
"Indeed I am."
"Somehow I doubt it's for the Cause."
"I doubt it too."
"Do you enjoy being a traitor to your own kind?"
"Do you enjoy being a slave?"
Bala's temper flared and she slammed a taloned hand against the stone wall right of the Warlocks head.
"I am no-one's slave. Least of all yours." She hissed, teeth lengthening in her mouth as she spoke... then receding as she curbed her temper once more. As her clawed hands twisted and shaped back to fingers the Warlock smiled twistedly and placed a lingering kiss on her temple. His lips brushed her skin softly as he spoke,
"As good as…"
Bala snarled and whirled away, fading into the shadows of the night. Warricks eyes lingered after her for a moment then he resumed counting his Soul Shards, eyes glimmering purple in the firelight.
I'm writing this at this very moment. It WILL be finished in an hour. PROMISE xxx