Hmm i don't know about any of the rest of you, but in my opinion Edward Sullen was better and Hotter than Edward Cullen. heh part where he announces that he is a killer, he shoots Alice and she falls into the rabbit hole. hah! now that's some great imagination kids, great class of jokery, i loved it!

I know that your powers of retention, are as wet as a wharthog's backside. But thick as you are, pay attention. My words are a matter of pride.

Warlock POV.

I watched from outside on a nearby plateau, as Sylvanas and Illidan, did their "light kissing" and found himself quite intrigued by it, "heh, I knew there were rumors about these two and I even suggested it myself, but still." I chuckled darkly, a nearby Black Revenant, who was safely held under a shield of arcane energy and had been a hunter in life, asked, "Why don't we attack them now, while their busy, they'd be easy prey."

I looked over at the hunter, a large human with a gun on his hip a bandoleer of bullets across his chest, another larger gun slung across his back, 4 guns tied to both his legs each, and another gun down his pants to make him look both aroused and far more well endowed than he probably was.

"Whats your name?" I asked sourly, even as the plastered my hair to my head. "Bob, sir." the Hunter replied, somewhat stiffly. I nodded, "Bob Sir, an easily forgettable name, possibly the least memorable one imaginable. Give me a gun Bob." without hesitation he handed it over and with even less hesitation I turned the rather bulky flintlock on him and shot him just as yet another thunderbolt nearly deafened me.

He fell out of the protective shield and quickly began dissolving. "If anyone else has any stupid questions, speak up, so I can fire you now!" I laughed at the poor joke and a few of the other Revenants smiled rather nervously back at me, "Okay now listen up people… I don't want to just kill Illidan and Sylvanas, there'd be no real fun in that you see, just going up to them and killing them, especially not like this, don't any of you have any sense of decency or romance!" I cackled and Bob whimpered, twitching spasmodically on the ground, his tongue and throat already too far gone for him to do much else.

"We're gonna leave these two alone alright, we're gonna leave them there in that cave all alone, to fuck and suck and bite and kiss and whatever the hell else strikes their fancy. And we're gonna keep the schedule alright! We're going to go to that nice little party their having at the end of this month and we're gonna show them how to have real party! One with lots of blood, guts, screaming and mindless necrophilia, ahahahhahah!" I howled with laughter, the sound of it muffled beyond hope of hearing beyond more than ten feet, the rain was pouring down so heavily.

I walked over to where the burning body of Bob lay, still twitching and howling wind, even though he was really nothing more than bones and various fluids now. "You know, while I do recognize the need for as many warriors as possible when we do this thing at the part and stuff, Bob, you just took yourself way to seriously… and I uhmm," I laughed, "I'm glad your dead! Hashanah" I turned to face the rest of the Revenants and they quaked in fear under my gaze and I laughed all the harder, "I'm Glad your DEAD! Hahhahahahahaha!" I shook my head still laughing and walking away the Revenants following me at a safe distance, "I'M GLAD HE'S DEAD!" I laughed out across the vast expanse of broken land.

I'm not certain what it was about this place, but ever since I'd come here, I'd been feeling giddy and excited, high almost, on dark energy. It was that Sylvanas bitch's fault I knew, ever since I'd got hit with that massive dose of abysmal energy, I just hadn't been right in the head. Hopefully the master, well one of them anyway, would be able to cure me of this malady, for while I could be fun being insane, I really liked my mind just the way it had been before thank you very much.

Really? Do you really feel that way? Or is that just how you think you feel? shut up, your not real, and one of the masters will take care of you, as soon as they can be bothered to.

Certain in my heart, that becoming perfectly at one with myself was what I truly wanted I walked on, through the rain, ignoring the way how of how it seemed to interact with my bare flesh, even with my immunities to the elements granted to me by the masters, something was going on with my skin and my hair and I didn't like it, with every drop of rain on my flesh, my skin seemed to darken just for an instant, seemed to numb out and harden and turn to a more reddish hue like that of a boiled lobster… I really didn't like this world. And as soon as I could I was leaving it.

Author's POV.

Meanwhile, as the Warlock is slowly turned into something, less or possibly more than elflike due to the combined effects of the Abysmal magic overdose he's suffered from and the planet Draenor's own corrupted druidic magics interact with the Abysmal magics inside his body and twist and shape him, the odd acid rain the same acid Valentine uses for his potent hallucinogenic by some odd coincidence, begins to erode at his mental barriers and eat away at or possibly enhance, or maybe some even mix of the two his sanity, or maybe something else even more disturbing and beyond normal comprehension.

Illidan and Sylvanas do indeed, do quite a bit of "Light" kissing, Illidan while trying to control his maddening lust for the woman and is unconciously focusing part of his attention and lust away, towards Draenor's heart and tapping into his inherent druidic potential, which similar to what was happening to the Warlock, has mutated and warped to something more or maybe less than what it once was, something more primal and old and… infinitely more dangerous than it ever could have become naturally and just as with the Warlock, it is still changing.

On Azeroth, Malfurion senses Illidan's odd dabblings with Draenor's heart and frowns, "What is wrong my love?" Tyrande asks, seeing the frown on his face even as they walk through forest admiring its beauty.

"I sense a great disturbance in the force, something, isn't right in the homeland of the Orcs, something is… awakening, something akin to Azeroth's spirit, but darker, warped somehow."

Tyrande frowned, "Outland? isn't that a shattered world? And isn't it also the land Illidan fled to after Maiev chased him off?"

Malfurion nodded, "Yes, I do believe it is my love, I shall have to contemplate this knowledge and seek answers in the Emerald dream."

Unnoticed in the Badlands, a mountain was slowly shifting in place and quaking as within it, one of the Warlock's masters, was slowly brought back, into the world.

Arthas/Lich/Frostmourne/Other.

Is really super mega Insane, now that three of them have had to bond together to create the mysterious Other and this bonding is really starting to drive them all mad and really angry too since Other has complete control over them and their pooling their minds together to try and figure out a way to grab control back from him

And Valentine is currently examining Kael'Thas, with some considerable interest while under the effects of Opium, Marijuana, Mescaline and Bromo-DragonFLY. Which is considerably heightening his ability to see things not of this world, things you can't normally see, things you aren't supposed to see… and just flat out things that aren't really there. One these things would be the dark entities that lie within the abysmal orb inside Kael'Thas… it should go without saying that Kael'Thas is really quite freaked about all this, particularly when Valentine pulls on a scarecrow mask and starts screaming at him in tongues no one in this plane of existence could ever possibly understand… as well as just plain old gibberish.

And Illidan burns Sylvanas' lips.

Illidan Stormrage, POV.

It was taking all that I had not to push Sylvanas down to the cave floor, where she'd surely be burned by the acid rain coating it and take her right there and then, despite my fling not really that long ago with Maiev, I felt a need a lust so deep and overpowering It felt like my heart would explode in my chest and my muscles would tear themselves apart with the raw power of it…

And I begun to understand just a little of what Tyrande had been speaking of when she'd said that stuff about Raw Power and true strength even if it did hurt me to remember it.

I began to draw on the great writhing crimson energy of Draenor, which seemed to have grown somewhat and changed just a bit since I initially found it shortly after I'd returned from Azeroth, with the great wound in my torso.

Flashback scene, Illidan POV.

I shifted and turned under the covers as I killed Arthas again and again, in my head laughing as I did so, as the weak human twitched and writhed in awe of my raw power and strength. I laughed… and then I cried and I felt a horrible burning coldness in my torso, strange a cold that burns?

And then I was awake and shivering and my blood stained the bandages over my body and I grimaced in pain, damn it the wound had opened up again.

I sighed and reaching into a nearby goblet of water, I absorbed the water and turned its power over in my mind before directing it to the wound in my torso once more and slowly the wound closed up again, it was a weak seal I had over it, but it was the very best I or any of my people could do, hell not even my people could do this much for the wound, it refused to heal no matter what magic was thrown at it, holy or otherwise and it was infuriating.

That something as weak as water magic, was all that stood between me and certain death from bloodloss.

I made my way slowly over to the window staring off at the dark sky which unlike the sky on Azeroth I could actually see in color, do to the heavy magic levels of demonic magic that tainted it.

I sighed as I admired the dark forbidden beauty of it, even though it was a beauty that drew upon demonic energy or perhaps especially because of that exact reason.

I remembered the feel of that blade through my flesh, the feel of its dark power eating through to my very soul and taking just the tiniest slice off of it.

I grimaced and upon smelling the acid chemicals about to fall I reached out to close the window and a single drop of acid landed upon my flesh and I cried out in pain and reached more quickly for the two halves of the window that swung outside, my hip hit the edge of the window and I lost my balance and I fell out.

I cried out in pain and terror as the acid began pouring down more heavily, burning my flesh and I spread my wings and attempted fly back to my quarters, but overshot my mark and I hit the side of the citadel with a loud and painful thud.

I cried out again in frustration and pain as more of the acid fell upon my flesh and ate away at it, I howled and leapt away from the citadel and flew off towards the great black mountains.

*So this is how it is, is it?* I demanded silently of the world even as I burned, *Dead, wounded by that cursed rune blade Frostmourne wielded by the hands of that spoiled prince who thought himself king and finished off by the elements, oh how Malfurion would love it, cast aside druidic power for much more darker more addictive energies, defeated by some of the very same dark energies I'd tried to master and finished off by mother nature aided by Demonic magic… oh the irony.

I had stopped screaming some time ago, even as the acid burned away at me and bone started to show up on my arms and holes were made in my wings, I wasn't about to die making a great loud fuss about it. I beat my wings on the air, even more holes showing up on them now, they were almost in tatters the acid burning through my back and at my face.

The pain was so exquisite it almost broke through my resolve to keep the sound of my distress to a mere growl.

And during what I imagined were probably my last moments, I thought of Tyrande, I thought of the sound of her laugh the feel of her warm smooth silky skin, her wonderful dark blue hair almost black how it seemed to sparkle in the moonlight just as her eyes did.

I extinguished my sight to the best of my ability and felt the burning acid flowing down my cheeks as my tears, of loss and pain as I thought of how she had looked that night so long ago, how happy and satisfied she'd looked with Malfurion, how that sweat had sparkled in the moonlight how beautiful she'd looked and how utterly devastating it had been to see her that way with my so called Brother.

I felt the last of my strength give way and my wings finally fall almost to complete tatters though they sill beat weakly and I fell, silent as a mouse, prepared for death. And as I did so I summoned the twin warglaives of Azzinoth.

yes I was ready for death, even if death wasn't ready for me I was ready I was prepared, I was-

I slammed into hot burning rock and cried out as the mixture of acid and just plain out pure heat from the smoldering hot volcano seared my flesh and I jumped away from it only to land against another burning volcano and another and another.

And then I fell into something dark and damp and I rolled down it, rocks gouging deep into my flesh, tearing away at muscle and bruising bones and shredding at the already badly damaged membrane of my leathery wings.

I must of rolled for about a minute but it felt like hours and when I finally came to an excruciatingly painful halt on the cave floor I had some very choice words for Death who had pulled a fast and cheap one there with that, just as I was prepared for him too.

I got to my feet or more properly hooves, gingerly and the instant I reached full height I quickly fell back down again onto my face, banging my horns on the ground and feeling very cross at the universe right at that moment.

I could feel warm wetness spilling out from my torso, *Lovely the wound has opened up again* I realized that, there really was no going back at this point.

My wings were ruined, the flesh was stripped down in places all the way to the bone on my arms and almost down to the bones in my back, though my legs were pretty intact.

I slowly rolled over onto my back, still in too much blessed shock, to fully realize just how badly I really was hurt and bloodloss making even less of my body able to feel the fullest extent of my injuries.

I sighed out a long deep breath and set myself down tiredly, *I guess its time* I thought dismally, even as my vision began to fade, *I wonder, what can I expect when I go reach the other side, paradise or Eternal Damnation or purgatory?*

I felt the light slip away from me and with it the last of my ability to feel and it was just me and cold empty blackness.

I sunk down, down against Draenor's hard corrupted ground and seemed to pass through it, I gaped as I saw a great crimson ball of dark energy that was at once familiar and unfamiliar. I saw it and I touched it and I tasted it and I knew what it was.

I blinked or as much as I could when I lacked eyes or even eyelids and I chuckled darkly, as I remembered Malfurion and Cenarius' teachings of things like this. They'd spoken of it as… Gaia or Mother Nature or Earth, sometimes as Azeroth, how they called upon the soul of the world for their power and how wonderful and pure it was… I'd never seen any of that in druidic magic, the only purity I saw in anything really was the purity of Arcane power and in Tyrande.

I had been born with Golden eyes, golden eyes which indicate inherent druidic potential and while it was true that I had at one time found the power of the earth mother to be tempting it was the so called darker energies of the Arcane were what truly called to me, in a way Earth magic never had and as far as I could tell never could.

I stared at what lay before me now, it wasn't much, it was just a dark twisted shell of a thing, that had once been the heart of Draenor and what I saw now were just a few strands and valves in that heart that still pumped life into the shattered remnants of the land and even those were twisted and warped just like the rest of the world it had been mutated by the dark chaotic energies that had torn it apart to begin with and now it… called to me, it called to me like Earth magic once had but with the added allure of Chaos energy within it as well.

I felt my hold on life weaken, heard the reaper's own warglaives sing to the sound my steadily weakening heartbeat, or scythe, depending on which culture you talked to about what Death appeared to you as.

And I saw the heart of the world, I saw it, saw straight to the center of it, where the tiniest possible flicker of life stirred and saw the heart as it too began to whither and die, much slower than I was, but steadily this heart was truly indeed dying, dying like a child exposed to scourge plague or influenza, coughing out a last dying breath.

Funnily enough I coughed with it, I saw this heart felt my own about two beats away from stopping, heard that bastard Arthas' laugh, heard Kil'Jaeden's pleased chuckle and saw what I had to do, what I needed to do to survive, though it carried a great risk with it, I did it anyway. I drew upon every last bit of energy left in this body of my mine, in my soul, every last drop of strength inner and physical, and I gave it to Draenor's heart and… nothing happened.

I felt my heart beat again, felt it shudder and rasp and pleaded softly but desperately for the damned heart to work already, for my energy to be enough damn it! I was the most powerful sorcerer on Azeroth at one time, I COULD succeed damn it!

My heart beat one last time and so did Draenor's. it was a very, very dim thing a very faint sound, it was the weakest of heartbeats, the most minor one imaginable to come from a still living being and it was enough.

My heart and Draenor's beat again and again, Draenor's still so weak and pathetic it hurt, but it did indeed beat and so did mine.

I screamed in agony ten no twenty no a thousand times worse than before and I felt every last bit of it, I saw crimson energy burst from the planet around me and converge on my body and screamed as my flesh reknit itself as bones cracked and popped as they repaired themselves as my wings straightened out and became whole once more, and once those injuries were done with the energy left most of the rest of my body and converged all on one single point the wound left by Frostmourne.

I could feel Draenor's heart straining as it pumped furious corrupted energy into my wound and for a terrifying second I thought the heart would give out and leave me to die once more, cold, afraid, trembling and alone. But then slowly but surely the wound closed over and it healed. It took everything that Draenor had but by Elune it HEALED! I felt that energy so dark and tainted with blood and distilled suffering, with chaos magic and damned tainted souls that it had all absorbed over the years and it was glorious, forbidden and glorious and I loved it.

And then just as quickly as it had appeared it went and I dropped down to the ground, my connection with the heart of this world severed. And I found myself looking down to a long silver scar where the great wound inflicted upon me by Frostmourne had once been.

I looked down at this once great wound and felt at it gingerly. Not even a trickle of the death energy I'd felt remained and I gave thanks to the heart of this world for doing what it could to save me and I felt a momentary surge of panic as I tried to feel for the planet's heart tried to listen and feel if it responded hell if it was even still alive!

And just when I was starting to feel the daggers of grief set into my heart, I felt it a single dark thread of tainted earth power, or more accurately draenor power, which linked me directly into to Draenor's heart my heart to its heart my soul to its soul and likewise the reverse true its heart to my heart its soul to my soul.

We were kindred spirits me and Draenor I felt it, we were corrupted and had been betrayed and used by those we had trusted and loved most. And struggling to hang on, struggling to hold against the dark all encompassing energies of Death itself and trying to use power similar to Death's to do it.

I got to my feet and made my way out to the mouth of the cave to where the rain still fell and I watched it for a long moment before I steeled myself and for the first time in… ever I gave faith to a power greater than I that was a touch more natural in… well nature.

And I reached a hand out into the rain and it did not burn. I smiled and I felt the spirit smile with me and… I felt… strange but in a good way. I remembered my eyes, how they had once been, golden like a wolf's to indicate my potential as Druid and I… I remembered Tyrande' words "Raw power is no substitute for true strength that I was why I chose your brother over you." I mouthed those words to myself, thinking on their meaning and I felt Draenor's heart wince with sympathy pain as I recalled those words, strange this was really strange…

But in a good way. I remembered Cenarius' teachings about how to wield Druidic magic, compared what I'd briefly felt of the Earth Mother's heart and soul of energy with Draenor's… and decided that I was going to have to twist that training around somewhat, to fit with Draenor. Draenor's heart of energy was similar to the fel Orcs, sorta the same really.

It was primitive, dark, corrupted, tainted by demonic power and blood and suffering and just a little bit of guilt and not to mention greed and pride and addiction whatever those other deadly human sins of the light were, just like me… so I'd have to forget the more advanced and fanciful bits of azeroth druidism I'd learned and strip Cenarius' training down to its barest bones and try and work from there, if not start out from scratch outright.

Not only would this help increase my power, but I think it'd also help Draenor, help it to heal, it wouldn't be a fast process but I think I could quite honestly help this world live on and heal itself spiritually if not exactly physically, though in time I might be able to do that as well… in time, besides I needed a good hobby.

And also it really was in my best interests to do this, after all if Draenor died… I would die too. And I just wasn't ready to do that just yet.

Its clear from your vacant expressions, the lights are not all on upstairs. but we're talking popes and successions. even you can't be caught unawares. So prepare for the chance of a lifetime, be prepared for Sensational news. BE PREPARED for THE BORGIAS! HEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAA