(( Going to jump in here, since Knephertiti asked for a little more life. I hope this works out for you! ))
Just before having her face clawed into a mess, Kevin's fireball gave her just enough room to breathe. Two golden orbs appeared in each of her hands, shining with a bright, warm and comforting light. Holding out her hands stretched to either of her sides, palms facing up, it was as if she planted the two orbs in mid air, where they slowly started to spin around her. As two Worgen encroached upon her, the orbs started spinning more rapidly. "Be cleansed, cursed ones" Xana whispered, as the orbs shot outwards and hit the two worgens directly in the chest. They staggered backwards, as if nothing had truely happened to them.. then a golden light errupted in their fur, taking shape as fire. The worgens both collapsed as the holy fire continued to burn through their existance, ending their misbegotten nightmare, and their lives..
In the meantime, Xana had moved herself towards the group, as to no longer be an easy prey.. In her palms, a shimmering warm light still remained, almost as if she was gearing up to cast more spells in rapid succession.
Drakgul was not particularly happy with at least two of his companions... the mage and the elemental were not what he was expecting. The elemental was... unlike any other fire elemental that the shaman had ever met, and the mage had the audacity to bind her to his will. As the group trudged on through Duskwood, the orc's uneasiness did not lessen. When the worgen attacked, he was not as much surprised, but glad. The heat of battle might help him with his troubled thoughts.
The shaman unsheathed twin axes, both made in the old ways of the smiths back on Draenor. Spirits of fire, grace my blade with your favor, so I may protect the lives of us who are on a noble mission and to live to continue to honor you thought the shaman. The spirits of fire responded and his axes blazed with an intense flame. Unleashing a cry, Drakgul charged a worgen. The beast attempted to strike first, but the shaman parried its savage attack, causing it to withdraw, whining in pain. Following up with a quick chop, Drakgul burried his axe in the creature's head. Pulling the axe out and letting the creature slump onto the forest floor, he beckoned another worgen to attack him, full of the joy his people experienced while in combat.
Heroes. That overused word. Sironath cringed slightly when he heard it, casting a momentary glance at the death knight but kept his mouth firmly sealed. He was no hero. He was just a guy who happened to know a thing or two about combat, and who the Light happened to take enough pity on to assist. In that moment he casted the glance at Mograine, the first worgen to come at him bounded within one leap of him and he seemingly rose up to meet it. It lunged at him with a beastial snarl and the paladin forcefully lifted his shield against it, forcing the beast to not dig his claws into the armor and flesh of the paladin, but to scrape them against his shield in a way that was entirely harmless to the blood elf. A rather shocking amount of bright golden sparks erupted from the impact of the worgen against the metal, singing the creature's fur and causing it to let out a pained yelp. Apparently, impact with a shield bolstered by holy magic was a painful experience.
He did not hesitate; heaving the worgen off his shield with a great shove, Sironath withdrew from behind his metal wall and swung his hammer directly at the top of the beast's skull. On the downward arc, a brilliant white-gold glow formed around the leading edge of the weapon. Not a sound left the paladin's lips to make this happen; Sironath was not the type to make much sound in combat save when necessary..
A sickening crunch could likely be heard somewhere amongst the other sounds of combat as the worgen's skull cracked on impact. It could not even utter a sound; it fell limp immediately and twitched and convulsed for a moment or two before becoming completely still. By that point, however, Sironath had already turned his attention back toward the group, and in particular toward the draenei girl. She was much too young for this, as far as he was concerned.. He had not, of course, seen her single-handedly slay a pair of worgen on her own. Without hesitation, he drew nearer to the youth, well within range of jumping to her aid if she became besieged by the beasts. One such beast had that idea in its mind - go for the small, weak-looking one - and Sironath, upon spotting the worgen so much as eyeing Xana, took it upon himself to fling what looked very much like a semi-solid disc of pure Light at the thing.
It made an oddly metallic sound on impact and disintegrated immediately, leaving the worgen with a very ugly, deep burn at the site - somewhere across the beast's chest and abdomen. For a moment it choked, unable to breathe, but it was unwilling to give up and so took the bait and charged the paladin rather than the girl for whom it had been going.
Kevin's face lit up from the amount of spellwork going on. Mostly his own as he twisted the two remaining orbs in his hands to form a single larger one. He fueled it as he wove the ball to a size 10 times his own fist. With a casual toss to his right the ball took on a mind of its own as it sped towards the brush exploding not even a foot in. Two distinct howls erupted from the the brush and died out within a few seconds. The fire however didn't die with the spell and started to take on the forest. Only a few yards burning for now. Kevin however paid it no mind, or at least a worgen twice his side made him forget about worthless trees. The only thing keep the claws and teeth from ripping him apart was a translucent shield. They rolled for a few feet past the child. The black furred worgen had Kevin pinned to the ground and rapidly started swiping away at him. "Ember! Take care of this damned mutt. Make him hurt!" The rage clearly evident on his face. How dare a mundane, feeble minded beast even get this close to me...he thought as the repugnant stench of the worgen's breath and fur started to fill his air.
Ember flew by, wearing the charred skull of her former victim and dancepartner as a hat.
She looked delighted at Kevin's handiwork as the fire spread from shrub, to worgen flesh, to tree bark... and the elemental was all too happy to help. Thrusting both hands forward, she emitted twin streams of blue flame from her palms, sweeping them from one side to the other. The flames cut clean through a large tree, setting it ablaze and toppling sideways, collapsing ontop of one of the feral beasts with a sickening crunch.
The firesprite laughed in a high pitch, taking pleasure in causing so much mayhem.. untill she was ordered otherwise, the tug at her mind and the shackles on her wrists directing her attention towards the mage. She swirved back towards Kevin, growing denser and smaller as she moved. Now the size of the Worgen's head, she twirled around the assaulting beast, sending streams fo flame at the worgen's eyes. The beast howled and snapped at the sprite, but Ember backed away, continueing her assault and luring the ravenous werebeast away from the mage to chase her, instead.
As the heroes defended themselves, two more Worgen came out of the underbrush, charging Darion. Holding steady, he waited, allowing the beasts to make it to range of his deadly rune blades. As the one to his left, approaching faster, entered his range, the death knight let loose. With what seemed to take no more effort than flicking his wrist, he sent his right rune blade into a sweeping arc. With deadly precision, he severed the Worgen's neck, decapitating it instantly. As it's body and head fell independent on one another, the second Worgen entered range. Using the momentum of his swing, Darion impaled his second sword through the Worgen's body, severing it's spine and emerging again for it's back.
Yet, this time, as Darion pulled his blade back out of the Worgen, it's body did not fall. Nor did the beast's blood spill - rather, it appeared as if in stasis, frozen in time. Turning, Darion noticed the same of those Worgen who had remained alive until now, killed by the heroes axe, mace, or spells. They remained standing despite their obvious deaths, a sight that confused the group greatly. Then, suddenly, the bodies began to bleed and disintegrate. Yet it wasn't blood they bled, nor did they simply begin to vanish. Rather, thick, dark smoke began pouring from their bodies, as well as the other Worgen corpses around. Even the fires caused by the mage and elemental snuffed out, leaving behind even more smoke. This darkness continued to grow, surrounding the group, entraping them in it's darkness. It seemed to be sucking the light from the air, even causing the light from the paladin's shield, the shaman's axes, and ember's body to dim. The group moved together subconsciously, making a small circle in the midst of the darkness.
The party, hardly able to see each other, soon came to notice another figure. It seemed to grow as it approached the group, visible not because it was lighter than the darkness, but because it was darker. It was if a piece of the void had come loose, a piece where light had never reached, and never would. As the figure approached, it became recognizable as the shape of a humanoid in a long full-body cloak. As the figure stopped only a few yards from the group, a familiar voice could be heard, resonating out of the darkness.
"Ahh, heroes, that was entertaining. How surprised I was to see how you handled my pets. But I wonder, perhaps it's time for a little... family reunion?"
As the cloaked figure raised one arm, another void-colored shape appeared next to it. This new shape started small, but grew rapidly, soon a circle of darkness large enough to fit a kodo. From it, at eye height, two blood red orbs shone through, burning with hate and rage.
"I noticed the Shattered Hand made an appearance in Darkshire. I wonder if they might be pleased to be reunited with their relatives. I hear Fel Orcs are really quite a barrel of laughs."
The darkness receded slightly, only enough to reveal Kargath Bladefist, Warchief of the Fel Horde. As he raised his arms, showing off the two menacing weapons he had replaced his hands with, tilted back his head and roared. As he did so, the heroes heard many similar shouts coming from the darkness around them. As the figure still cloaked in the darkest of shadows began to laugh, the darkness surrounding the heroes was soon home to hundreds of glowing red orbs, as the Fel Orc Armies came into view. The void figure than leaned over towards Kargath, and wispered a few words into his ear. The orc responded quickly, raising his scythe into the air, and ordered his army to Darkshire. With the sounds of heavy feet stomping on the ground, the Fel Orcs turned from the party and began running towards the town, Kargath leading the charge. As they left, the cloaked figure turned, and began moving away, before stopping once more to call to the group.
"Oh, don't worry, there are plenty to keep you all entertained as well. But, dear Darion, I do hope you make it back to town. I doubt your fragile truce will hold long once the Alliance realized they are under attack again by the Orcs."
With that, the figure disappeared, and the dark smoke with it. Darion also vanished, as suddenly and the smoke had appeared. Instead, what remained was a group of Fel Orcs, who noticed the group and looked eager to satisfy their blood lust. As their warriors charged, and warlocks began channeling their dark magic, the shrill, menacing voice of the figure was heard once more, this time coming from inside the heroes minds, taunting them.
"I wager I'll see you all soon, as my new puppets drag your broken corpses through my front door. Best of luck, heroes. I'll enjoy watching you all die, and your world fall."
A chill went down Xana's spine as one of the monstrous creatures she had struck with holy fire seemed to freeze in its entire existance. A cold chill ran down her spine, as she seemed to have a strange sensation, much like a deja-vu. The feeling resembled something she had only felt once before. At the doorway between life and death, where light and darkness show their true colors. The feeling of stepping into the void where one would have to find itself, that was the feeling she was getting, except this time the void seemed to be alive. It seemed to be seeking out the champions on its own accord.
The sensation kept growing, causing her body to shiver as if she had been dipped into a pond of ice water. The light she had formed in her palms seemed to be growing dim, as the worgen slowly were broken down into a thick, living smoke.. As the smoke swallowed the group, Xana immediately felt like she was choking, she couldn't breathe in there at all.. The pressence of their opponent was overpowering her to the point where her spells of light had almost been transformed into a spell of shadow. It was only at the very core that a bright flame kept on burning, as Xana refused to give in to this despair.
As the figure spoke, Xana's struggle to keep breathing and keeping at her senses made the light grow more dim by the second, and the shadow in her hands seemed only to wait for the inevitable. However, just before what Xana believed had been her breakdown, the figure disappeared, taking the dark smoke with it. Breathing deep and fast, Xana looked to her spell, which was as bright as it had always been.. Had it merely been her thoughts, an illusion..?
Looking around to her comrades Xana prepared for battle once more. One thing seemed to have stuck.. a tiny feeling admist the dark. "..I think we're being delayed for some purpose.. It doesn't feel like were being toyed with.. We'll have to keep moving forwards."
((Bumping this too continue! I'm sure everyone else, like me, got caught up in the release of MoP but I'm back now and hope more of you are as well.))
Kevin shivered and the flames around him all but snuffed out. It felt chilling and his most basic senses told him dread, fear, cold, and death were surrounding him and threatening to consume him. What power, Kevin thought, but he noticed it. The flow from the nether to his body, to his flames, to his tether with Ember. It was almost impossible to fool these things. Cutting them off or truly diminishing them was truly unique feeling, and for him it felt like hunger. This was not hunger. Still he moved with the group. Illusions or not this thing was strong and not knowing this spell meant he couldn't see through it. Even still as the unseen being talked he had to constantly reassure his mind that it was in fact just an illusion around him.
Fear was the least of his worries as the Fel Orcs ran towards the town and left them behind. Fool-hardy as always he only saw the challenge ahead. A group of Fel Orcs started in for them. He mumbled a few words and waved his hands as small arcane sparks shot out and wrapped around the charging Orcs. They dispersed at the top of their heads but nothing happened. "Not illusions. Ember round up the fel magi." He took two steps back and positioned himself behind the paladin and shaman and began channeling a vortex of flame around his body.