In the Dawn Times

Biarathiel winced, stretching her right arm out to the side and then bringing it up over her head and feeling the muscles in the lithe limb pop as they flexed. The bitter cold winds of Frostfire howled outside of the command building of her garrison, and she shivered despite the goblin-made gas burner that kept the interior of the building warm. The numbing cold seemed to try to make its way into every crack and cranny of the structure; a constant nuisance and invader. What was worse, it made her weary body ache bitterly in places where she'd been wounded in distant times.

With a sigh she brought her arm down again, rubbing it gently with her left hand at her right elbow, trying to soothe the raging pain that popped up after an excursion into the cold to check for more clues as to Telatha's whereabouts. There was only one solution for the ache; something she'd learned long ago. With a smile she began to hum to herself as she walked over to the small camp stove set up in the corner of her personal quarters. She lit a fire in the small gas burner, setting a pot of water to boil on top of it before turning towards a very small table that sat beside the hammock where she made her bed.

Reaching into a nearby jar, she took out several types of dried herbs and began to chop them up with a knife, the herbal remedy for the aches something she'd used a million times in the past. Soon she'd brew a nice, warm tea with a hint of the herbs in it and the pain would be numbed for a time. She shook her head, her mind wandering back to the time when her body didn't ache quite so much; to a time when her arm had originally been injured....

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*Long ago, far before the fall of Quel'Thalas to the Scourge. In Amani catacombs in Quel'Thalas."

Tel'athar Dayfire crouched low in the long, rough corridor, his shield held in front of him, a short sword steady in his other hand. He looked over his shoulder, concern on his face as he met Braeth'el's gaze, "She should have been back by now."

"She'll be back. You know Bia; sometimes curiosity gets the best of her and she tarries when she shouldn't," Braeth'el replied. Though his words were light-hearted, Tel'athar could sense the underlying concern for his sister in his tone.

"If she's not back in another minute or two, I'm going in there to get her whether she likes it or not," Tel'athar declared. He received no protest from Braeth'el, and the two knew that they would destroy the entire tunnel complex brick by brick if need be to get Biarathiel back in one piece. Her scouting mission had gone on far too long and both felt the rising anxiety caused by waiting.

Fortunately, the fears of the two Quel'dorei were alleviated a moment later when a figure stumbled from the end of the corridor, hurrying towards them. They could see the blue glow of Biarathiel's eyes as she approached. As she drew near the torches that lit the dim stones of the corridor, both elves could see that blood trailed down her arm and that she was wincing in pain.

"Bia!" Tel'athar shouted, rushing forward to help support the elf as she drew near. He could see that the wounds were superficial, perhaps caused by a blunt impact with the spiked head of a mace or morningstar. "What happened?!"

"There's an Amani voodoo priest in there, just as we feared," Biarathiel said quietly. "He's hexed a number of elves and also conjured the spirits of the mummified trolls that were buried in these catacombs. Basically the complex back there is full of zombies, and they're headed this way. We need to get out of here and get backup."

From further up the corridor the trio heard the sounds of shuffling and strange moans as the voodoo-cursed elves and summoned creatures began to approach. Tel'athar exchanged a grim look with Braeth'el before nodding, "Right. Let's get out of here then. We'll need to get some forces from Silvermoon to clear out this mess."

With that he turned towards the other end of the corridor, intent on leading the trio out of the darkness under the earth. They'd come in to explore the tunnels after rumors of elves disappearing had begun to surface, hoping to put an end to whatever creature may have lurked down in the depths. Finding the old Amani ruins under the ground, they had determined that something far more sinister was afoot.

They had not gone ten paces before cackling laughter echoed from the corridor behind them. Instantly all three whirled around, their gaze taking in the form of a troll shuffling down the corridor ahead of a mass of undead trolls and very dazed looking elves who had obviously been drugged, "Where ya be goin' mon? Ain't no way you gonna get outta 'ere alive!"

The Amani voodoo priest cackled again before reaching over and touching a snake carving on the wall. The eyes of the snake retracted, and a rumbling sound filled the corridor as the floor shook. The trio of elves shared concerned glances before the floor behind them began to collapse. Biarathiel felt her footing begin to fall as the stones beneath her fell away, and she shouted as she began to plummet into what she realized was a pit filled with snakes.

Just as she was about to fall, Tel'athar's hand shot down and grabbed hers, his strength holding her aloft before Braeth'el lent his own arm to pull her from the brink of the pit. As they set her on her feet, they surveyed the corridor, realizing the way out had been completely blocked by the new pit.

Thinking quickly, Braeth'el pointed to the wall over the pit, "The stones are jagged there. We can climb it, but it'll be slow going." He glanced back over his shoulder to see the laughing voodoo priest and his army of zombies looming closer. "We're not going to have time."

Tel'athar shook his head, his blonde hair framing his noble features as he spoke firmly, "No, we don't, but if one of us stays behind the other two will make it. I'll hold the corridor behind you. Go and rouse the guards, we can't leave this place intact or more elven lives will be in danger."

With that he turned, his chainmail armor clinking lightly as he set himself in place in the center of the corridor, his spellbreaker's shield held in front of him and sword firm in his other hand. Biarathiel looked at her brother, sadness written in her features as she realized one of them was going to have to be a sacrifice for the others. Braeth'el's look mirrored his sister's, even as he turned to appraise the stones along the corridor's edge to assess where they could start climbing.

In the hallway behind, the first of the zombies reached Tel'athar, and his shield lashed out, bashing the attacker aside. He tried to save his sword for the undead only in the hopes that the drugged elves could later be saved, but as more and more began to pile atop him he realized that any mercy he showed would only serve to undo him and put his friends at risk. Resolutely his weapon lashed out, and enemies fell around him.

In the distance, the voodoo priest cackled again, dark magic hurtling from his hands towards Tel'athar. The noble elf was a spellbreaker however, and he brought his shield up, its wards shearing the fabric of the spell apart and empowering runes on Tel'athar's armor and weapon. Empowered, he struck out again, clearing a space around him.

Behind him, Biarathiel paused as Braeth'el began his ascent, biting her lip and glancing back at Tel'athar as he stood alone. Finally she reached out, her hand on Braeth'el's shoulder to stop him, "No, B. We came in here together, we're leaving together or not at all. I'll not leave him."

Braeth'el paused, his gaze meeting his sister's as he turned and hopped down from the stone he'd been clinging too, "You sure, Bia?"

Her tone was firm when she replied, a fire in her eyes that Braeth'el knew well from their youth, "Yeah, B. The sun shines for only so long. Let us make the sunset fall on a day to remember, shall we?"

Braeth'el grinned and nodded, "Poetic, Bia. Let's go before he kills all the zombies without us."

Biarathiel gave her brother a punch to his shoulder before drawing her daggers, "You know me, always one with the words. And yes, let's not let Tel get all the glory."

With that the siblings turned, weapons in hand as they dashed back up the hallway. Braeth'el outpaced his wounded sister quickly, his twin swords swirling as he lashed into zombies that were about to overcome Tel'athar's flank. As the enemies fell away, he ducked low, his blades lightning fast as he cut the legs out from under the attackers behind them.

On Tel'athar's other flank, several zombies suddenly crumbled as daggers sprouted from their eyes; Biarathiel's deadly throws striking enough targets to ease up pressure on the spellbreaker as he pushed the enemy back. His voice was wry as he spoke to the two, never taking his eyes off the enemy, "You two don't follow orders too well, anyone ever tell you that?"

"You knew we couldn't leave you, Tel," Biarathiel said with a laugh as she jumped into the melee, daggers flashing.

"Yeah, besides if we did and you made it out, we'd all have to sit through your repeated exaggerated tales of how you fought off an army alone," Braeth'el joined in, a grin on his face.

All three of them laughed heartily at this, even as they cut down their enemies. Despite their light-heartedness, the three knew they were in deadly peril. This was emphasized when another spell slashed down between them, narrowly missing Braeth'el as he dodged out of the way.

"We can't let him keep hurling magic at us!" Braeth'el shouted. "Tel! Clear a path forward. We have to take the bastard out!"

Tel'athar didn't respond, instead shouting a warcry and suddenly lurching forward to slam into the ranks of milling zombies in front of him. Bones crunched as his shield bashed enemies aside, his blade cutting down their foes left and right. He made it fifteen feet before the zombies began to surround him, his life in grave danger as his flanks came under attack. Braeth'el turned towards his sister, nodding at her and dashing into the gap as he yelled to her, "Over the top, Sis!"

Biarathiel dashed forward behind her brother, knowing it was do or die. Just as Braeth'el reached Tel'athar he dropped to his knees, his hands cupped over his head. Biarathiel ran up her brother's back, one boot placed perfectly in his hands as he rose up beneath her, his momentum propelling her up and forward, her flight so high as to almost cause her to scrap against the raised ceiling of the catacomb's tunnel.

She flipped over in the air, a smile on her face as she sailed almost in slow motion over Tel'athar and his foes. He met her gaze in mid-flight and she winked at him as she brought both her arms out to either side, the pain of her wound forgotten for a moment as she just flew. The crowd of zombies passed beneath her in a flash, and she began her final descent, her body flipping again so her feet struck the ground first.

Directly behind the voodoo priest.

Her daggers lashed out, imbedding themselves in the troll's spine and neck in a heartbeat, his spellcasting instantly interrupted as he died, his magic flaring out of existence. A howling wail filled the corridor as his hexes and spells died with him, the crowd of zombies falling as if they too had been struck, the dazed and drugged elves amongst them collapsing and weeping quietly.

Biarathiel pulled her daggers free from the troll, grinning as blood gushed out of the wounds. His body toppled before her, leaving her view to Tel'athar and Braeth'el clear. A beautiful smile graced her face, and was returned by the other two as they silently congratulated each other on yet another successful adventure.

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Biarathiel's thoughts were interrupted by the wail of her teapot on the stove. She turned and took it off the heat, pouring hot water into a cup full of the prepared herbs. As the steam rose, she smiled and took a sip, her cup held up in silent toast to memories of better times and to friends long lost.