Evil isn't unnatural its not an outside force to be fought or a demon whispering in our ear... its genetics fucking with us. heahahahaahahaah! the threat is within people, there is no devil, no htere is no god. there's just us, we are, are own dieties, our own demons and angels, we are gods we're just pathetic excuses for gods hehahahaahaah...

Two days later. Sylvanas Windrunner, POV.

I walked down the corridor, three Naga Gaurdians at my back and 2 up ahead with a Naga Sorceress trailing behind a safe distance away, should I try something and somehow manage to take down the guardians.

Two days, since I tried to take down Illidan, two days in which I had fully recuperated from the wounds Illidan had dealt me. Two days, in which I had dubbed one of my Naga guardians, Steve, another Todd and yet another was Remo, I'd yet to name the sorceress or the two up front but it was only a matter of time.

I stretched out my muscles and groaned slightly as I felt them protest and heat up at the movement. I sighed, I was getting out of shape, my muscles were starting to deteriorate and I had the horrible suspicion that I was forgetting how to use a bow properly.

I needed a good work out, something to get my heart racing and the adrenaline pumping. Unfortunately while I was free to roam around this Black Citadel of his, Illidan had forbade any activities which might give me the ability to escape or cause him trouble… which of course meant exercising and exercising equipment, the bastard. I sighed again and rubbed tiredly at my forehead. The corridors just seemed to go on and on and on and everyone of them looked almost identical. It was like a fucking maze.

"Is the Lady Sylvanas, tired?" asked Todd, contempt heavy in his voice. "Mayhap we should turn back so the little elf can get her beauty sleep." steve chuckled and I glared at them both before moving on down the corridor.

When I turned the corner, I found myself staring into a courtyard, filled with dozens of shirtless sparring men. I blinked and saw that each and every one of them wore blindfolds much like Illidan's and most of them fought each other with those glaive things the Night Elf's seemed to be fond of.

"This is the training ground, for the Demon Hunters." Remo supplied his voice low and grave, "Lord Illidan originally trained five blood elves, 3 died and one succeeded. You see that one in the middle of the room?" he pointed to a tall man wearing loose black trousers and set of arm black armbands. He was athletic with long blond hair and a long sharp featured face that would probably be good looking enough were it not for the line of scars across one side of his face that looked like they went right down to the bones underneath the flesh.

I winced in sympathy pain and nodded. "That is Varedis, he oversees the training of all these other lesser hunters, for the most part. Sometimes Lord Illidan takes over, the Lord is generally the best for training them particularly to use their spectral sight, due to his demonic and heavily magical nature, though he can be rather brutal when training them."

I nodded, somewhat distracted by all the gorgeous, smooth, sweat slicked athletic torso's about as far as my eyes could see.

Then his words truy hit me and I turned to face him, confused. "You said they call themselves demon hunters and that Illidan trained them?" I asked and he nodded sagely.

"isn't he himself a demon, though? So what he just goes around hunting and killing his own kind?"

Steve laughed, "Oh, little Fallen elf, you truly no nothing of the master do you?" I gritted my teeth at his scornful look, "No I don't what of it snakeman!" I demanded.

He bared his teeth at me and I flinched and cursed myself for it. "The Master is only part demon, little elf, he was not always as he appears to you now and if ask me the changes he has gone through have been for the bettter!" he laughed, drawing the attention of a few of the Demon Hunters in training, but Varedis quickly barked at them to get on with their training.

He turned his blind gaze to glare right at us and it became rapidly clear that he was not pleased with our presence.

"I think that it would be wise if we were to leave this part of the citadel with haste." Remo noted and I nodded in agreement.

As we walked away, I found myself puzzling over this mystery that was Illidan Stormrage. I knew I had heard that name before somewhere but I just couldn't place it, I noted with a bit of smugness. Well at least I was right about something, he is only a hybrid of course that begged the questions, But of what, a demon of course but what kind of demon and what were the other parts of him? how did he get to this state? Steve said that he didn't use to be this way.

I sighed, it was all so damned frustrating. Here I was, trapped in a citadel I didn't ask to be brought to in the first place, surrounded by people and creatures I'd never even heard of, while some warlock with strange powers and alchemical abilities I could only dream, ran around making MY people do his dirty work.

I swear when I get my hands on that dirty, disgusting, filthy ingrate! I seethed quietly inside and the Naga shifted uncomfortably, sensing my frustration and outrage, well except for Remo he was as cool and politely jaded as a monk.

"So," I began, as we turned a corner, as nonchalantly as I could manage, "if Lord Illidan's a hybrid," I had to grit my teeth to keep the scorn out of my voice, "Whats he a hybrid of? What's is history?"

Remo opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it again, mulled it over in his head and said. "Those are things best answered by Lord Illidan himself, if you want to know I suggest you talk to him about it."

Death by a broken neck would be too good for you, you slimy old bastard! I swore venomously in the privacy of my own skull.

I made my way back to my quarters, thinking of my last few nights with my sisters and a pang of heart ache and loneliness hit me. I remembered the conversations we'd had around the fire, while on the run from our own forces and remembered how we'd spoken the supposed Lord of Outland and even back then the name Stormrage had sounded familiar to my ears, but I couldn't remember where I'd heard that name back then any more than I could now.

I was almost to my quarter's door when a very bloody, very dazed, very… all in all satisfied Illidan Stormrage came out from, startling me and my guards even eliciting a small yelp from Steve.

"Ahhh, there you are, I'd wondered where you'd gotten off to, Fallen elf." he smiled and licked the blood off his knuckles, "Tell me, did you enjoy getting the layout of my Citadel and doing your best to exploit my hospitality, yet again."

I tried to think up a clever excuse but, words failed me. So I shrugged instead and really wished that I had my bow and a few arrows with me. "it's a big place, very…" I remembered a word I'd heard a troll use once for a small altar that was similar slightly to this place, "very debonair."

He smirked and popped his knuckles. "I'm glad you think so, though I sincerely doubt whether you mean as much."

"What happened to you? you look like you just came back from a slaughterhouse," i wrinkled my nose, "and you smell about the same."

he grinned, "well, lets just say i've been... educating myself on the Night Elf anatomy and how it reacts to certain... Elements.. and lets just leave it at that shall we."

i shrugged, "Whatever, so what brings you to this part of the Citadel, come back for seconds? cause i am more than willing to give beating you to death another chance." Illidan laughed "Oh of course not, after what i did to you last time, even with that substance which flows through your veins i'm surprised your up and walking around. no i've just come to give you another chance to comply, before things get messy."

i sneered at him, "Things are already messy, Loooorrrd Illidan. maybe i did break your portal thing, which adventurers were using to get at you, but if thats the case shouldn't you be thanking me and having dinner in my honor!"

He laughed, "Under normal circumstances i suppose some, but i felt a thing much like that arrow, Sylvanas and i want to know where it came from!"

i snorted, "Yeah i know, it felt just like Frostmourne to you didn't it?" his grin faded and if looks could kill i think i'd be a shadow on the wall with the force of this glare he was giving me. "Yeah i may not have known who you are in the beginning and i may not know who you are now but stories do get around and i know about your little encounter with Arthas in Northrend. i know how you lost that battle so miserably to him and i know why you hid up here instead of plotting revenge against Arthas."

i took a step towards him, feeling my confidence grow. "Word has it, that you have master, or had a master, some great big demon lord who wanted the Lich King dead. you failed him and so now you hide out up here in fear for your life and surround yourself by more and more guards in the hope they'll be able to stop whoever your master is."

He looked down at me with a glare that suddenly reminded me quite harshly that I stood a mere 5'10 to his 9 foot, horns, wings and hooves. I glanced down at his hands, And claws I silently added.

"You think, you know so much about me that matters, little Elf," he growled, "but the fact remains that you know nothing about either me or my history, you know nothing that really matters whereas I know quite a bit of you that does. Maybe you know of my defeat to Arthas but I know of yours as well, we both fell victim to that blasted sword of his and we share a hatred of him that rivals any other that either this world or any of the others have ever known."

He leaned down to stare me right in the eye and I saw great age and wisdom in those eyes as well a great hurt and something else… something I couldn't quite make out. "that arrow you had in your body, felt very similar to Arthas' rune blade, that rune blade was created by Kil'Jaedan, the arrow didn't have his power signature however, which means there's someone else out there with power like his and if I could meet this someone and perhaps steal some of these weapons created by this someone, I might stand a chance against Kil'Jaedan."

I felt just a small surge of pity for this man… a very small surge, but it was enough to make me consider complying with his wishes and telling him what he wanted to know. But I decided against it. "I'm going to rest in my room now Illidan, I hope you haven't dripped any of that stuff on there."

Before I closed the door in his face, I turned to face him mulled things over in my head and decided to tell him just a little something. "that arrow doesn't matter, anymore Illidan if what you said about the portal is true than the man who originally gave it to me is probably dead." and with that I closed the door.

I sighed as I leaned back against the door. Feeling less and less certain, every passing moment… of what I was going to do. At first I'd thought I'd gather my strength and recuperate here in outland, maybe recruit some people, to help me get rid of that pest of a Warlock.

But Illidan had told me that, when I came through that portal, the power in the arrow had reacted badly with the portal and had caused the portal on this end to short out and most likely the portal on the other side to explode in a devastating blast that'd most likely destroyed everything within a couple of miles of the altar.

I thought of my people, thought of what they would do if I didn't come back. A new leader would have to be elected and that was supposing whatever that bastard of a Warlock had done to them had worn off or been broken after his death.

What if their just wondering around like mindless automatons? No, I shook my head and dropped to the floor to begin pushup exercises. I had to get back to my people, I would get back to them no matter what… and to do that I needed a powerful sorcerer.

Sylvanas Flashback sequence thing.

"So sister what do you know of this supposed Lord of Outland?" I asked Ayleesha.

"Well they say he's a demon," she supplied "with great huge wings and horns." her twin Seraleesa, finished.

"I heard he was sorcerer," the elder sister said softly, "some said that he was possibly the strongest sorcerer in all of azeroth."

"If we could get him on our side," Seraleesa started, "maybe he could take care of that pesky Warlock for us." Ayleesha finished.

End flashback.

I smiled grimly, Very well. I pushed myself up and down up and down. Illidan Stormrage will be my instrument to get back home, with his aid I will return home and if that sorcerer still lives than we'll see how a powerful warlock does against the strongest living sorcerer on Azeroth.

Illidan Stormrage.

Location, walking down the corridors of the Dungeons.

I walked, down the corridors of the dungeons. Looking into cells and cages, where I watched some of my more famous prisoners squirm and writhe under my gaze, or more accurately their auras.

The demon lord Samyaza and his wife Lilitu, both bastard children of Magtheridon who had come to release him. Sindri the mad dwarf cast out of the inquisitors for extremely cruel and unusual punishment and imprisoned for trying to get back at them with some of his more experimental procedures.

Owen Deathstalker, one of the very few people to survive going through something called the Madness maze, which had transformed him onto something not entirely human and was still transforming him even as we speak into something more some higher class of being, with an extreme amount of power. Me and him often had interesting talks, which usually lead us both to contemplating my own transformation and whether the Gul'Dan fellow whose skull I had absorbed, had in some way been connected to the madness maze, do to my own transformations.

Some mad sorcerer with a pathetically weak talent for magic, by the name of Alastair Crowley, who kept ranting and raving at me and making the sign of the cross at me.

A dead man, by the name of Merlin Satanspawn, who refused to die and kept muttering on about some little bitch of his who stole his heart years ago and lost it in a card game.

A giant pink rabbit of some sort that really disturbed me, that kept hopping around and pounding a drum with two drumsticks made with the bones of little children. He was kept within a soundproof magic barrier to keep all the noise contained within his cell, any who heard his drum either went insane or their heads exploded… I don't like to think about what that says about me as I was the only one survive his terrible drum and imprison him.

How do I know what the rabbit looked like? Well that was simple, I could see it, which meant it was something extremely magical.

I sighed, as I looked away from the giant pink rabbit and went on to Maiev's cage.

Feeling my heart grow heavier with every step I took and not entirely certain why.

Sylvanas Windrunner POV.

Right… so basically, I had nothing on Illidan Stormrage. Oh I had some stuff. For instance I knew he was a half demon, I knew from some guards I questioned that he was not native to outland, I knew he didn't like cheese.

See I knew some stuff, but still nothing that I could use to possibly persuade him to release me and teleport me back to Azeroth, let alone come back with me and possibly face the wrath of that former demon master of his, just to face a Warlock who was in all likelihood dead anyway.

I sighed and decided to hell with it, I was just gonna walk right up to him and ask him right up front. after all I thought, whats the worst that can happen.

Warlock, POV.

Location unknown, someplace HOT as the blasted hubs of HADES!.

I swore virulently, at the blasted heat and brushed my sweat drenched locks of black hair back from my forehead. And a passing blackiron Dwarf, fell over dead from a sudden and vicious case of Syphilis, Influenza, Throat Cancer and a brain infection. I sighed and tried to remember to keep my temper in check, especially considering the being whom I called master, whom I was about to face.

I glared back at the helmeted figure behind me, "You could at least show that your affected at least a little by all this heat, you sick bastard!" I snarled at him and he just stared at me, coldly.

I'd slain the latest and now former Lich King, Bolvar Fordragon and had given the crown back to Arthas, whom while he may be a spoiled prince, was a spoiled prince me and my master could manipulate and besides that at least he had the right things in mind, for that damned crown of his, Fordragon just wanted to sleep around the lazy fuck.

I cursed him, not reigning my temper this time and he didn't even twitch as I gave him every sexually transmitted disease under the sun.

I sighed, feeling my impotent ire, cool just a little, the only part of me that did.

And stomped off up the mountain, to face the quite possible and likely wrath of my master, who while he would be pleased at the resurrection of such an infamous foe of the living, might not be so pleased that my one of my test subjects had gotten away. Especially in this delicate stage of the planning.

When at last I stood before my terrible and mighty master I kneeled and bowed my head as low I could possibly manage, without pressing my face to the burning coals beneath my boots.

I spoke in a harsh, immortal tongue, that no merely mortal, anything on this planet or even off it, not even those ugly ass draenei or the dwarves could possibly pronounce unassisted by some of the most ancient and hardcore magics and if it all possible some serious throat and lung infections.

The great and terrible being before me, rumbled and the mountain around me shook and cracked, as it awakened.

"What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This. Intrusion. On. My. Slumber." it ground out, its voice deafening and painful to my ears.

"Master," I swallowed and spat the words out weakly, it had a tendency to do that to people. "Do you wish to hear the good news or the bad news first?' I inquired, silently praying. Please take the bad news first, that way I when I give you the good news your spirits if you have any will go up and stay up a little and I might live longer.

My prayers went unheeded, as my master, growled, "Good. News. First."

"I have brought the one you wanted, Arthas Menethil, the runes of his shattered blade have been seared into his flesh and Frostmourne is one with him and perhaps best of all the serum has been injected into his veins and he is now completely under your control and I can strongly suggest things to him."

"Good." the master ground out, "Now. What. Is. The. Bad. News?"

I licked my lips, here it comes. I thought, sudden and terrible demise, goodbye cruel world, at least I got several lines of descendants into both the Azeroth and Outland, all composed of several thousand of my blood, it wasn't much but it was a minor form of Immortality, even if none of them would remember me the ungrateful little shits.

I told, it. The Master, looked down upon me but said nothing and just for second, dumb Hope sprang up far FAR in the back of my head, much to the annoyance of Logic and Reason, that maybe I'd get off with just my master's silent rage and nothing more.

As usual, Hope turned out to be dead wrong. "YOU. IMBECILE!" the mastter roared and my eardrums exploded and I suddenly found myself lacking eyebrows. "DO. YOU. KNOW. WHAT COULD. HAPPEN. IF. THIS. SYLVANAS. WOMAN. GOES. TO. THE. DRUIDS. OR. ONE. OF THE. ANCIENT. FOLK. WITH. THAT. SERUM. IN. HER. BODY!" THE Master demanded of me, my eardrums regenerating and shattering all over again with each and every word.

"THAT. SERUM. IS. COMPRISED. PARLY. OF. MY. BLOOD. SHOULD. MY. ENEMIES. RECOGNIZE. IT. THEY. WILL. KNOW. THAT. I. AM. BACK. AND. THEY. WILL. HUNT. ME. DOWN."

I felt bloody, tears trickling down my cheeks, as capillaries burst and ruptured and my cells exploded, all of them immediately regenerating all over again but being obliterated all over again with his every syllable. There weren't words to describe the terrible agony I felt. "Please master!" I croaked, "Please, the odds of her encountering any of these forces you speak of, are minimal. For I chased her out of this land and into the land of the Orcs.

The seething mass of furious energy before me, paused. "You. Speak. Of. Outland?"

"Indeed master." I whimpered, relieved he had stopped shouting.

"Very. Well. Damian." the Master, said. "Mayhap. Things. Will. Go. According. To. Plan. Yet. I. Give. You. Personal. Responsibility. To. Seeing. The. Demise. Of. This. Sylvanas. But. Fail. Me. Damian Aloysius Kreel!" the Master warned and my chest clenched up in fear. "And. You. Shall. Suffer. My. Eternal. Wrath. Even. If. Its. The. Last. Thing. I. Do."

"Yes, my Master." I groveled humbly. "Now. BEGONE!" the Master Roared and my eardrums exploded once more, but this time they didn't regenerate.

I turned to the silent, figure of Arthas Menethil. And I think I saw his lips move and was almost certain I saw his chest plate rise and fall a bit rapidly and I was pretty sure I knew why though I was incapable of hearing correctly at the moment.

I growled and obscenity at him that made a nearby goblin fall over screaming with Black Plague and the worst case of Gonorrhea anything in this world would EVER know. And I made the sign of the Extremely Cross at Arthas, before I trudged back down the inner hellish slopes of the mountain, making my way slowly up to the surface and trying to recall if any minor gods or demigods or even any minor Demons, owed me any favors.

Arthas/Lich King/Frostmourne/unknown, POV.

When do we ask? We should not ask we are the Lich King we serve no one as do not take orders from anyone or anything. I Hunger for the souls of ALL living creatures!

I shook my head, trying and failing to clear it and felt that things were a lot more simpler when we were dead.

I asked the question neither of the three were going to ask. "What would you ask of Death, Master."

The voice bellowed out loud raucous laughter, "I. Would. Ask. Nothing. Of. Such. A. Being. As. Death. Not. Even. I. Am. So. Bold. As. To. Do. Such. A. Thing. But. You. On. The. Other. Hand. Yes. I. Would. Ask. A. Great. Deal. Of. You. For. You. Are. But. A. Puny. Agent. Of. Darkness. With. Delusions. Of. Grandeur." the voice was condescending and the myriad of thoughts and minds and personality fumed in indignation but I remained cool and reasonable.

"Then what would you ask, of this agent of darkness?" Don't say that! We are so much more than a mere Agent of Darkness! WE ARE DARKNESS! We are eternal, we are INVINCIBLE! Show him that this is so. Frostmourne hunger! Shut up you stupid ghosts!

I slammed my gauntleted hand into the back of my skull, in an effort to get the voices quieted, it didn't work.

"Take. Control. Of. The. Forsaken. Reassimilate. Them. Into. The. Scourge. And. Wait. At. The. Base. Of. The. Mountain. Lay. Low. Make. The. Forsaken. Go. About. As. If. Everything. Is. Normal. And. Then. When. I. Tell. You. To. Do. So. Attack. The. World. Of. The Living. And. Show. No. Mercy!"

I bowed my head low to the great presence, "Yes, my Master."

I sent the signal out, through to the forsaken, which I had recently been given control over yet again and let them know of how things were to proceed. And then I headed down to the base of the mountain as ordered and stood there. Silent and still as a statue, and I waited. The voices screaming in my head all the while, I waited… waited for the time to come, of when I could safely betray the one who thought he could order me around and then I would make him and this world suffer.

Here i stand, helpless and left for dead. i close your eyes, so many days gone by. easy to find what's wrong, harder to fin whats right!

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Hehahahaahaahh. Here is news people. I AM DONE! i am done looking for betas. my old beta Raenef just quit on me, he has life problems and work. and i mean don't get me wrong i don't have anything against work god i work myself. I WORK EVERYSINGLE DAY! no days off, lots of physical labor, constantly ridiculed by my family for not being the best worker for only being slightly over average and not a centimeter higher. i get critisized for what i wear, how i have my hair up, how i act, how i think. well i'm done with that. i am done listening to you people YOU HEAR ME DONE! particuarly you fucking men! you bunch of insensitive fuckwits. bunch of clueless fucking bozos the lot of you breast obsessed douchebags.

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Urggh why is it so hard to find a man, with a working brain in his head huh? why is it so hard to find a man that isn't obsessed with sex, drinking, fishing, mammary glands AKA breasts AKA boobs. why is it that the lot of you think that it is so demeaning, so gay, so... feminine! to show your more sensitive sides huh? why is it that the lot of you are so frightened of your balls dropping off and your cocks turning inside out and turning into pussies that you can't show that you actually care about a girl everyonce in a while, care about what she feels and what she needs, really guys some sensitivity from men that aren't homosexual would really be nice.

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Okay i'm done with that rant for now. for all you girls that agree with this please give me a thumbs up in your reviews, or an amen either will do. oh and PS i have nothing against homosexuals, i'm actually friends with a few their cool, i'm just ticked off that their the only men with the balls to actually show how they feel and can be sensitive about another person's feelings. good fucking day to you people.