A blog dedicated to fictional short stories and role-playing across a spectrum of video-games and fantasy worlds.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Learning the Darkness

Biara drew in a hushed breath and held it, not daring to move. In the dismal, dreary part of Ashenvale she heard the faintest snuffling sound. Although her invisibility spell kept enemies from seeing her, there was one foe that could find her by scent, and it was closing in fast. A felhumter, also know as a magehunter was on her trail. She pressed herself flat against a pillar, not daring to even think as the creature stalked past. It had her scent, but not perfectly. It paused near her, lightly growling before it bent back to the ground and continued on its way.

After several minutes of tension, Biara finally breathed a sigh of releif and slipped away from the pillar, checking to ensure that the creature had moved on. It was nowhere in sight, and she allowed her invisibility spell to fade. No sense in allowing it a chance to track her by magical means after all.

She took stock of her situation, pausing to scan the Highborne ruins around  her. They had been horribly corrupted over time, the white marble stained red with the blood of those who hadn't fallen to the legion. Foul words written in demonic covered much of the remaining pillars and stone archways that made up what was now called Fellfire Hill. In the distance, the snarl of unbound demons could be heard as they stalked this deep, untamed part of Ashenvale forest.

It had taken some time for Biara to determine where she needed to go next in her hunt for clues about possible sources of Fel power. Her research in Dire Maul had been fruitful, and several pre-made, suitable areas for Fel casting were available in the ruins once she killed a few dozen demons that had resided there. The most disconcerting of the demons had been the foul satyr, corrupted Highborne from long ago who continued to plague the world they once lived in. Biara shivered just thinking about them before shaking the thought loose from her mind and pressing onward.

Deep within the demon-infested ruins Biara came across a large stone archway. This opening had long ago fallen to the legion, and the inscriptions on it promised dire and unending torment for any who dared to cross beneath it. Biara understood little of the demonic tongue, and the warnings would have went unheeded even if she could understand them. She was on a mission, and would not be denied her prize.

As she passed beneath the arch, a tingle of Fel energy tickled her skin, and she knew she was approaching her goal. Up ahead on a rise a number of demons congregated, a Doomguard leading them in obscene rituals over a large stone structure; an altar of fel power. Precisely what she was looking for!

Perfect!

The demons hadn't expected an adventurer to wander into their domain. It would have taken great skill or power, or a mighty battle, for anyone to press this close to the altar. As a result, the first few were obliterated by razor sharp shards of ice before they even were aware that they were under attack. The others turned to see Biara standing a short distance away, freezing cold magic surrounding her in a shield, icy blasts of deadly magic hurtling from her fingertips to strike down more of their number. The demons roared in anger at this challenge, surging forward to take down the long Magistrix that stood amongst them. They were met with a shower of deadly hail that plummeted from the sky, pelting them and smashing most to the ground. Only the Doomguard stood when the spell ended, glaring it's hatred at the Sin'dorei.

The creature leaped forward, a whip flying out in one hand. The weapon burst into flames as it traveled through the air, shattering Biara's icy shield and wrapping around her waist. She gasped as the fel tainted weapon scored a mark on her side, her wards flaring brightly to defend her against further harm. The demon pulled it's arm back, dragging her from her feet and laughing as she fell in the dirt.

"Time to die little elf-thing," it rumbled at her with a laugh.

Biara merely smirked and said a single word that she had keyed to a spell in a ring on her finger, "Belore."

An orb of densely packed flaming frostfire appeared before her, drifting lazily through the air. The demon's eyes widened in alarm as it almost casually headed towards the creature. For a single moment the small clearing was still, and then the orb came within range of the demon and blasts of icy-cold burning fire struck the creature, burning and freezing it to death at the same time. In seconds nothing remained but burned cinders.

Biara smiled and got up from the ground, dusting herself off as she approached the altar. All along the raised structure were runes and symbols in the foul demonic tongue. Although she couldin't read them, she knew a few of them after having studied the altars in Dire Maul. She knew she had found the spell-passage she was looking for. With an even larger smile, she took out a piece of parchment and layed it over the stonework, intending to take a rubbing of the runes for later study.

The paper burst into flame from the pure evil of the inscribed runes. Biara dropped the flaming useless wad of ruined parchment with a sigh; she had expected as much. She dug into her spell component pouch and took out a vial of iron filings. She normally didn't use this type of spell component, but here it would be needed clearly. She sprinkled the filings all over the side of the altar, and watched as they grew cherry red from contact with the demonic scrip. Once the filings had melted and coated the side of the raised platform, she whispered the words of a spell and an icy cold blast of air struck the molten metal, forging it into a hardened object instantly.

Biara tapped the edge of the altar with her staff, and the chunk of metal fell loose. On the reverse side, a perfect copy of the runes on the alter had been formed. Exactly what she needed. She smiled and with magic shrunk the metal piece to a small size, placing it in a pouch.

Her work done for the time being, the Magistrix chanted, opening a portal home. As the portal closed behind her, the clearing remained still, the foul altar pulsing with vile magic, waiting for the day it would be used by the Legion once more.

No comments:

Post a Comment