Nylaria could feel beads of sweat beginning to dot her forehead. "How could it be worse?" She asked a bit aggressively. "Worse how? Worse than the War of the Ancients?" To the night elf's chagrin, Ciar turned and started stepping away from her.
"It is complicated," the worgen muttered. "The Burning Legion are utilizing demons the likes of which this planet has yet to have seen before. They're doing well to mask themselves from being detected through traditional methods, but any warlock worth his salt would have felt such a great disturbance plaguing the Nether. This isn't some sort of scouting party, oh no. This is a real invasion. The Legion is ready for war."
Clenching her fist tightly, Nylaria said, "What of us, then? We've repelled the Legion more than once in the past before. What must we do to prevent this war?"
Ciar continued walking away, shaking his head as he used his soot-colored staff as a walking stick. "I'm afraid it's not that simple," the worgen called out over his shoulder as he wandered the roads of Azsune. "You misunderstand me then, if you believe this is a simple thing to brush off." As Ciar shuffled down a cobbled path Nylaria jaunted behind him to keep up. "Imagine the brute force of the War of the Ancients combined with the most ruthless tacticians this universe has to offer. The full might of the Legion's forces led by the most brilliant and sadistic minds. A thousand different battle plans, points of invasion, theaters of war."
A stale breeze wafted over the two of them, carrying with it the scent of salty seawater. Nylaria was too distracted by Ciar's words to pay attention to where they were heading. "It does not matter," Nylaria retorted. "Azeroth always finds a way. We always do."
Suddenly Nylaria stopped, kicking up dust. "Why do you keep walking away? I'm trying to have an urgent conversation, here." Then the night elf stopped and her eyes widened somewhat. She and Ciar were standing at the edge of a cliff-side that over looked a enormous pit. The chasm glowed with a near violent purple light, with steaming energy literally emanating from beneath the earth. Radiant violet crystal of all shapes and sizes jutted out from the ground. It was as if raw magic itself had carved a path through the earth, leaving behind an open wound.
Nylaria's eyes twinkled at the grand sight before her. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Indeed it is," Ciar gruffly responded. "A leyline in the flesh. The very essence of arcane power made manifest." The warlock held out his staff and pointed the jewel atop of the cane downwards. The glittering black gem began to glint brightly as it drew in power directly from the leyline. Ciar's unoccupied hand began to glower with a dancing green flame which sucked in all the heat near it, leaving the surrounding air eerily cold. Nylaria stepped backwards to give the worgen breathing room.
The jet black crystal upon Ciar's staff began to harbor a swirling mist of potent energy. The entire gem started vibrating intensely. Then, a resounding voice beckoned from the crystal.
"What do you want?" the voice said, moderately annoyed.
"Essowrod," Ciar responded exasperatedly. "I'm not particularly in the mood for games right now."
A bright green eye popped up inside the jewel on Ciar's staff, blinking a few times. "No time? Preposterous! What else would a loaf like you be doing with your time?" the voice known as Essowrod said. "Also, tell that elf friend of yours I said 'hello.'"
Ciar could only sigh. "Essowrod," the worgen repeated, "I know very well that you're aware of our current situation at the moment. And she can hear you, by the way.
"I know," Essowrod replied slyly, winking an eye. Nylaria shook her head.
"I need a summoning," Ciar said down to his staff. "I need my pets. Get them here safely. Do not dawdle, Essowrod." In the vast distance vile green fire began to spread across the sky above the Tomb of Sargeras back at Thal'dranath.
Behind Ciar a summoning circle began to grow, expanding in size over a few seconds. Burning demonic runes emblazoned themselves into the earth etching words of power on the dirt to channel dark energies. "Very well," Essowrod yelled from inside Ciar's staff jewel, loud noise now nearly obscuring his voice. "Garbhan and the rest have engaged Legion forces. You were right to rush."
Ciar replied, "I know," parroting Essowrod. The large eye occupying the crystal on top Ciar's staff rolled sarcastically. Then the gem went dormant. The summoning circle flared up to full power and glimmered brightly with shining jade-colored magic. Ciar spun his staff in his hand before touching the energy laden crystal to the center of the summoning circle. "Kirel narak!" the warlock announced.
A churning, bubbling whirlpool of chaotic fel energy cut a hole through reality a foot or so above the summoning portal. Then, very unceremoniously two canine creatures dropped to the ground with a thud. The portal above them snapped shut loudly and the summoning circle faded into nonexistence. Left behind were two incredibly odd shaped demons that walked on all fours with cloven feet and a slew of dangling tendrils that extruded from the back of their heads, which were eyeless and resembled skulls. One was sharp red while, the other matte black.
"My boys," Ciar called proudly, kneeling and extending his arms. The demons yelped happily and bounded up to their master, circling the worgen while bouncing around.
Nylaria made a noise. "You warlocks are a strange breed," she commented.
Ciar waved his staff in front of the friendly demons coaxing a few playful snarls from the beasts. "They do more than just play tricks," the worgen responded. "They're hear for a reason."
Raising her eyebrow Nylaria simply kept a respectable distance. "Then what is it you plan on doing with these... things?" the night elf inquired.
"We're going on a hunt," Ciar responded vaguely. He reached down and stuck an entire hand inside his loose robes, the fabric turning into inky goop as he did so. The warlock pulled out a handful of reagents - an imp wing, a hoof, some ash - and threw in directly in the dirt which exploded with a surprising bang. A vaporous cloud appeared, wriggling as if being bent by a breeze. "Lich-Hunt," Ciar beckoned as he turned strawberry shaded demon companion. "Sic 'em."