"Talking"

"Thinking"

"Deity/Demon/Empowered Talking"

"Deity/Demon/Empowered Thinking"

Communication via portal, Shouting/Gadget

*Sound Effect*

Disclaimer: I don't own anything other than the character Kylandras and other characters I make up within this story. I don't own Blizzard or World of Warcraft or any of the other franchises. To make that clear, I don't own anything but the OC's I create within this story, if a character pops up with one of the names I chose then, well...fuck...I am doing this right, right?

Chapter 1 : Seizing the Sargerite Keystone

Mardum, yet another world that'd fallen to the fel-plague that was the Burning Legion. In another place, in another time, the battle to sunder the forces of Mardum would have been a uphill struggle that'd require the strength of Illidan's forces to make any progress at all. But with Kylandras leading her personal battalion of inquisitors into battle, the additional forces that would eventually be recruited into the battle via the various portals scattered throughout Mardum were only required to help secure a foothold. Such was the strength of those who were trained personally by the one-armed Illidari, the Inquisition, the name itself had been taken from one of Kylandras' encounters with the various armies of the Light. An inquisition dedicated to the cause of serving Illidan and one day destroying the Burning Legion.

Said battalion leader was just observing the battle from atop of one of the mountains that littered the landscape of demonically tainted world. The blonde blood elf perched on a ridge that gave her the perfect view of her advancing forces, who'd been given their orders: Open the portals and bring their forces through, plunder any demonic magic that would be of use to them and establish a foothold to advance upon fortress where Blood Queen Tyranna, the foul being safeguarding the Sargerite Keystone. From the looks of things, everything was going according to plan, although if there was one thing that Kylandras could think of the current situation it was...

"Boring! Where's all the tough demons!? I thought they'd put more effort into defending such a powerful artefact!" She shouted, startling some of the fel-tainted critters dwelling a along the mountainside." The normally chipper woman grumbled out, checking over her gauntlet and greaves once more before standing up. "I'm heading out, Varadin. I can see some more Infernal's dropping in, might as well reduce them to size since nothing else wants to challenge me." She spoke seemingly to no one, before her.

"Oh for the love of- Wait up!" The second-in-command called out as his leader bounded off into the distance towards the sickly green coloured fire-balls rushing down towards an some of her inquisitors. The call unanswered as the warrior elf let out a joyous battle cry as she reached the apex of her jump, beginning her descent towards where one colossal Infernal was already rising up into its humanoid form. Detecting the cry of something rushing towards it, the Infernal looked up just in time to see a heavy plated foot crash with a thunderous smash. Enhanced strength making all the force of the dive-kick all the more awe-inspiring as the one blow was enough to utterly annihilate the demonic being. Which collapsed just as its two brethren were rising, both of which observed their fellow demon fall to such a thunderous blow.

"Inquisitors! I'll take care of these Infernals! Rally to your team leaders and show these demons no mercy!" Kylandras shouted, rolling her shoulder with a grin before she jumped once again, launching from the broken corpse of one infernal right into another. Which, while prepared, still wasn't ready for the sheer force that was put into the punch that sent it crashing down to the ground, sending waves of fel-lava surging everywhere. Ever present was that fearful grin upon her face even as she tore into one colossal infernal with the strength of a thousand Illidari! But of course, this was just another day for the inquisitors, who just cheered for their Leader and pressed on with the task at hand, rushing towards any poor demon that thought they could stand a chance against the sheer might of the Inquisition!

"For Illidan! Slay'em all!"

There was no cheering, it was just a loud, thunderous battle-cry made by the demonically charged voices of demon hunters who fought together as a unit! Where one of their group couldn't take down a demon, another Illidari would take the opportunity to slash and hamstring the creature, allowing for an easy take-down. It was a combat technique drilled into each member of the Inquisition; if one of us can't take one down, seize the moment to help a fellow Illidari out! Be it distracting the target, or weakening it for an easy take-down. Most importantly, never stop moving for one single moment. With bodies trained and honed into the finest weapons, to pursue is what the Inquisition did after all.

Being the dogged hunters whom didn't let their prey a chance to breathe, it wasn't pretty, it wasn't elegant, it was war, plain and simple. While anyone looking upon the battlefield, it was chaos, something a demon would love due to their penchant for destruction. But it was an organised chaos, which the Inquisition controlled, turning any exposed back as an opportunity to cut down another foe. Some demon hunters just heading for another target if another of their kind had gotten into position, running past their previous enemy just in time for it to get cut down. Truly, it was a war combat technique that practised madness on a large-scale and used it as a pushing force, allowing the Inquisition to open up the portals, allowing their various forces to help them maintain their hold on the ground that was gained with each passing minute.

While other Illidari would prefer to go on their own and hunt down as many demons as possible, the Inquisition were trained to fight together as a unit, finding kinship and family in their fellow members they laughed, they cried, they trained together and fought as brothers and sisters. Such was the bond they held that it was a nigh-unstoppable force, just like Kylandras herself.

Said Blood Elf was busily laughing, laughing her foes, colossal infernals that would inspire fear and terror in normal beings, but Kylandras wasn't of the normal sort. Where a normal Illidari's punch would merely crack the ground, hers would tear the earth asunder, splitting mountains and enemies as well, if they were in her way. So colossal infernals were, to her at least, merely demonic rocks that she could destroy with a single punch if she so wish. And she did, when one made the mistake of trying to take as many Illidari with it before the laughing battle-crazed demon hunter set her eyes upon it. An abnormal coldness struck the fiery being, and before it could decipher that it was the tiny, frighteningly strong woman that was now screaming through the air thanks to the sheer force of the kick she used on the infernal she was fighting, using it as a platform.

The unfortunate infernal's face, that Kylandras had used as a platform, had been reduced to pebbles as its corpse fell to the ground. It was over in a moment, one moment the huntress had been playing with her foe, the next, she'd dispatched one with a kick to its face, and used the force of her kick to propel her towards the brave/stupid demon that had thought to turn itself against her Inquisition. A speeding bullet was what Kylandras could be described as, not even noticing the sturdiness of her intended target as she'd simply held a demonic energy-charged fist in front of her and speared through the head of her target. The death of two powerful demons being killed so quickly, it was a morale-shattering occurrence, instilling fear into the remaining demons, who were slain with ease by the Inquisition, who didn't even flinch when that colossal infernal had intended on attacking them.

Despite her nonchalant personality, Kylandras was nothing of the sort when it came to protecting her battalion. An unstoppable battalion, spear-headed by an equally unstoppable commander, it was a swift battle, and not a single demon was left wherever the Inquisition marched. From Despair ridge to Seat of Command, the Inquisition marched on, slaying any foolish demon that dared stand in their path, and it was only when they'd passed through Inferno Peak that their momentum finally slowed. The cause? Huge, demonic war machines that flung molten fel-fire balls along any path of approach.

Normally this wouldn't cause any troubles for the Illidari, but their other forces would be destroyed in a matter of a minute after stepping into range of those massive fel-tanks. But then there was the troubling situation of demonic forces beginning to lay siege to their base of operations overlooking the demons base of operations: The Fel Hammer. They were holding the line rather well for the moment, but with each moment that passed, it was a stalemate that would be won by numbers, which the demon forces of the Brood Queen Tyranna. The battle was a struggle, flesh was torn asunder by fel-imbued blades, fel-energy clashed with fel-energy and countless waves of insect-like demons were cutdown, but not without inflicting injuries upon the elite soldiers of the Inquisition.

Wounds bled fel-tainted blood and some Illidari had to fight even harder to control their power. And then, all of a sudden, just as quickly as the hordes of demons had began their siege, they retreated. Normally, this would rally any normal soldier that fought against the Burning Legion, but for the Inquisition, it was a tactic that had been seen many times before. More often than not, this brutal, straight-forward tactic would sunder the ranks of any army that stood before it. But the Inquisition were ready, they were prepared and ready to slaughter every fucking demon in sight.

"Swarm..." Kylandras appeared like a ghost in the midst of her troops, whom cleared the path as they saw magic, magic begin to course through her body, the sharp blue lightning a sharp contrast to the normal fel-green energy that most Illidari used. This magic that Kylandras was using was merely a summoning technique to call forth something from her personal pocket dimension. Armour glowed brighter as both energies, mana and fel were forced into cooperation, creating a power that forced the runes and empowerment's that imbued the short Blood Elf with a power that could only be matched by those whom stood on a whole other level to the rest of the pantheons.

Reaching behind her back, like one would draw a large weapon, Kylandras' hand dipped into a spell-circle that opened up the way to her pocket dimension, at first it seemed like a pointless gesture, but then she grasped something, and the air was filled with pure power, raw, untainted and most-certainly not benevolent in nature. Muscles flexed and slowly, infinitely slowed down to all who set their eyes upon her form. First was a handle, a long, maybe a full foot long in length, handle topped with an adamantite pommel.

And then? The spell circle bulged, straining as it was forced to stretch to full capacity, and in one fluid motion, it was revealed to the world of Mardum to witness. It was a sword, although some would argue and attest to this, it was no mere sword, it wouldn't even class as a two-handed sword in all its colossal glory. Blades, serrated and littered with all kinds of magically empowered runes, it was a god-damned monstrosity, a weapon made to slay even bigger monsters that opposed its wielder. It was a weapon more befitting for someone at least two feet taller than the six foot, ten inches tall Blood Elf, but the sword wasn't the only thing that changed.

Armour, heavy, plated and horridly dense, seemed to melt into existence, the world screamed as a colossal force was summoned, runes too, littered this armour, covering every part of Kylandras' body, and magic reinforced and powered this immense creation. Forged for the one who held the strength to sunder mountains and slaughter thousands of demons within minutes, it was armour that seemed to challenge anything to dare striking it. Titan-forged, that was the title this armour held, and a title given to weapons and artefacts that were made by the titans, or wielded a power that could rival even the Old Ones themselves with their potential.

Did I mention that this was only magic that was being used at first? Oh, well let me enlighten you, my dear readers as to what happened when this armour and sword, were taken into the mould and insane machinations of Kylandras.

"Ah shit, the Commander's pissed!"

That was putting it lightly, this equipment was made to slay foes of a countless magnitude, such as what the Commander was about to face. As mentioned before, this was a tactic that could only be employed within hive-world of the Burning Legion. The ground trembled as two forces of colossal power prepared and were ready to clash, to tear eachother apart and leave nothing but raw entrails scattered everywhere. Kylandras herself, currently was only the normal size of her current form, but that all changed when the unholy, air-quaking force of her fel-energies, were employed upon her. A spell she'd learnt to better become a weapon of destruction to all demonic foes she faced; Metamorphosis. Fel power swarmed and surged force, bent under an indomitable will and made to empower its wielder, changing and moulding her form to match the size of the armour she, for a lack of a better word, grew into and with as well, thanks to many enchantments and runes imbued into it. The armour, a solid metal monstrosity matching the sword that rested against her back grew until both it and its wielder were now twelve-foot in size, making the sword, seem more in place now.

"Inquisition, don't let a single survivor pass through here. Get every fucking one of those lazy asses that are my squad leaders to tear those defences apart. I'll be busy rearranging the landscape here." Orders uttered by a being that stood at the precipice of being a force of nature that rivalled even Illidan in nature, it was quite easy to understand why Kylandras was entrusted with such an important task. The fel-energies brimming through her body changing the armour she wore even further, twisting it until it matched its wielders needs, a vicious, spiked and bladed armour that seemed to speak of death to any that would oppose it. Her sword shifting as well, until it was twisted even further, serrated teeth growing sharper and heavier until a God of Death stood upon that slaughter-field.

War, a simple name, embodying the aspect of battle and combat. The battle of wit and strategies and numbers and gruesome in all its nature. It was the name given to her armour, a weapon, as it could no longer be called armour as it was, that declared death awaited all that faced it. To any lesser being, it would've driven them to heart-attacks or outright ending themselves, to save themselves from a fate worse than death. That fate? Well the sword that was held in her only hand was something that was of a all unnatural nature now. It had slaughtered many demons in its time the sheer demonic energy running through it delivered many demons to a permanent death, their souls destroyed and their energy used to fuel this war-machine. Its name: Belial. May have no rising. Fitting for death and destruction was all it wrought.

Now, one must ask yourself this question: Why had Kylandras brought out such a fearsome weapon? Well, to fight an insurmountable odd, sometimes one had to become something different in order to match the scale of which the Commander faced. Swarm, a large amount of numbers moving in one direction, it was a tactic that had been used by the insect-like demons that were apart of the Burning Legion's ranks. Hundreds of thousands of insect demons all being made to charge towards the presumably foolish resistance that could normally hold against such numbers. But this was different, an insect swarm under the power of multiple hive-minds was a horrifying thought, a normal swarm was of a number of at least 300,0000. The Number that was surging forth, making ground shudder and quake and crack under its force?

800,0000. A will-breaking number to even hear was facing you, but to Kylandras?

"Lunch-time~" The Commander had lost too many fellow Illidari to this tactic to feel nothing but a seething, heart-stopping rage for her foe. Many worlds had fallen to this cold, mindless strategy for her to tolerate it anymore. So she decided it was time for an insurmountable force, to meet a colossal, unstoppable force of War. The time had come, both sides were steeled, prepared for the clash of forces that would decide whether the Inquisition would fall, or stand atop of the countless bodies of demons with their prize in hand. Magic and Fel-energy worked as one to fuel this Titan of War, her hand lifting her Belial onto one massive pauldron. Kylandras took her first step forwards towards her foe,

And WAR, marched towards its next battle.

Authors Note:

Right, and that is where I stop this part. I do so dearly hope that I've got some readers enticed to reading this. My eardrums hurt from listening to all kinds of music like Seven nation army right now. So consider this a warning that the next chapter will take a while to make, both requiring my motivation, and what not. Anyway, hope ya'll have enjoyed this chapter, and I'll talk with you all again soon!