Several Character Backstories / 2 RP sessions of Character Building.

[Vx-Odessa-xV]

Well everyone, as the title here says..I'm going to be multi-post slapping down a few "in the works" backstories for characters I have here for myself. I have 12 to do, and what I have here all came to me within a two night period recently and I just had to put down in some small way of beginning character designs.

I had always for these characters built them on a personality to match their class/spec they are to play that I have no intentions of shifting from, regardless of the state the spec falls into.

So here are the armories to these characters so you may see them and how their race/armor/name sets them, and the story that they embody.

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Let us begin with the main character and the few snippets I have made for him. My main character now 8 years running.

Zaeon, the Lightsworn
https://imgur.com/kbJ5qDx

https://imgur.com/wNtufxI

Classic

These years were simple. Zaeon was the son of the noble house "Lightsworn", a home of knights bound of blood to their realm. In these years the elf would find himself in training from a young age to be as his father, a Blood Knight of Quel'Thalas. Nothing of true worth was achieved in his young years spent among their ranks at father's command, only preparations for the trials to come.

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The Burning Crusade

Joined into the ranks of the Horde, taking the battle to the Outlands alongside his new allies of battle to see what awaited there, Legion and those that called the shattered lands home. It was here he was at the battle of many holds that the enemies of fel-Horde and twisted kin of the lands were fought. From siege of the Hellfire garrison and Magtheridon's Lair to chasing down his former commander Kael'Thas. Zaeon was there alongside his father "Alaric, the Lightsworn" in every battle and hardship undertaken. The Black Temple march they tread it's halls, even there as all the others of their Order to siege the Sunwell sanctum itself that they would see their fount of power cleansed..

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Wrath of the Lich King

With the Sunwell reborn came a new direction for his father, son and house as one. The Sunwell and it's stolen Light would be cast aside with the Legion's grasp broken, and the truth that their kind were no better to steal this away for their own gains.. And so it was the two would answer a new call to arms. They would stand alongside their brothers and sisters of all races and kind at the Dawn's service, seeking true faith and repentance of their ignorance in the Light's judgment. It was here amongst those to answer this charge that father and son alike would join as crusaders of The Light. Days, months past and with these days came the ranks of Templar, and ultimately son to obtain the rank of Chaplain under the Reclusiarch (High Chaplain) of the Dawn, Grimladus. This man the only Forsaken with true faith and devotion of such magnitude no other could match would be given the most resounding of gifts.. Standing a fallen paladin of Lordaeron raised to serve a new master he would even in undeath have the Light's love without hindrance. It was in this blessing this man was able to retain the power of the Light, in great martyrdom of his own pain that he would see it's laws done true justice. Under his keen eye and zeal the two elves would see their own fervor only grow. The two present at the battle of Light's Hope and open hand lain to the Ebon Blade they would share in many great glories, even to see their mentor adorn the armor of one of the fallen Death Knight commanders of Naxxramas as gift of another that stood as such, a fallen Sin'Dorei turned knight of death, Seladreus Bloodoath.

Adorned in the armor of the Dreadnaught they would see another great honor to befall Grimaldus, this was to wield a great weapon of legend to battle in the frozen north. A grand Crozius Arcanum of the Silver Hand. The Might of Menethil. And so to the north the three battled. The fall of Naxxramas reborn in the chilled winds of Dragon's Blight, to the siege of Ulduar in the Storm Peaks where Zaeon was to obtain at the privilege of the watchers in the battlements of the the Titan's Aegis, that to this day he bears to battle. This great honor on his shoulders in armor blessed of Titan origins and Light's grace he would march upon Icecrown at his father's and mentor's side. But this is not where their story would end..oh no. In so many accolades still one of possibly the greatest weight ultimately came. His father, Alaric was to take up the grand blade of Quel'Dorei hand. This blade known for it's history to be taken to battle to slay the Scourge, the trolls alike that encroached upon their realm. From hand of Thalorien Dawnseeker to Lana'thel and finally corruption this blade fell and fell, only to be reborn, reforged, cleansed and brought to serve the Light's hand once more. This blade was known as "Quel'Delar, Eburi lo dor ll'amare." in their native tongue.. Its name forever graved in legend throughout all of Azeroth. "Quel'Delar, the Might of the Faithful."

With grand blade in hand the three took their vows of vengeance and repentance to face their enemies. Onward the they fought through the challenges of the frozen king's forces...but all would not end in the Light's loving radiance. Against the very queen of blood that saw the blade to hellish darkness Alaric would fall before his son's very eyes. Retribution burning in his veins his son would draw the blade from his father's hands and strike against the beast of disgust that they former called a sister of blood. In a searing glow of white hued in gold he would rise from the stone, father's essence still dripping from his steel. A mighty cry to echo the halls, zeal burning through his veins Zaeon charged the blood queen with hate searing his very soul. "We strike with the wrath of the righteous!" ..Blood spattered the floor and with it the sundered corpse of the twisted being of corruption that took from him the man he held most dear. To Alaric's side his son would take a knee, a choked cough of fleeting life almost stealing away his last words for his son to carry on with his every step. "Remember my son.. A coward dies a thousand deaths before he is forgotten.. The truly valiant taste death but once and live on forever...heroes."

With this the life of his father faded away into the Light's embrace before his very eyes. In this sorrowful moment Quel'Delar, and title as Lord of their home would pass from father to son. He was henceforth to be Lord Zaeon of his home, "Zaeon, the Lightsworn." to the nobles of their land. Oh yes, there would be pain, hate, the clawing jagged nails of cold against his heart. With all this their works would not be done. Onward the two now would press, a new life of blazing hate fueled by revenge burnt fury having stolen the Sin'Dorei's being. Every battle came a new vow shouted to the heavens. "Death before dishonor!", "We strike with the wrath of the righteous!", "There is no such thing as innocence! ..Only degrees of guilt!", "Accept any challenge, nomatter the odds!"..so many things took hold of his heart and with every word came truth of his devotion on each and every that left his lips.

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Cataclysm

With numbers dwindled the Crusade could do little but quell the Twilight's Hammer and hold the remaining Scourge at bay through these day and so many more that came..only to finally step forth onto the fields of battle to face the Destroyer in the name of Azeroth's own and lives of all.

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Pandaria

Once more the Dawn and Crusade were left to see all that served the darkness in these days to fall, purging the wicked wherever it may rise..only to finally be brought to this new land as the final strike was to be made against the false Lord of the Horde reborn in fire and steel. Tales of the bitter corruption that was the Sha seeing new purpose of these faithful, and with it their ranks to see it cleansed from the face of their world.

Draenor

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With numbers ever slashed to slivers the Crusade could offer little to step through the portal to chase down the next that would see their world chained and burned under heel. It was upon these lands that Zaeon would achieve only greater heights and prestige. From Chaplain the elf would ascend to the title "Marshall" before the battle of Hellfire and the burn of felfire the Legion's hold scorched the lands with every touch.

Legion

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With the Dawn, Crusade and all of the warriors of the Light joined together as brothers and sisters of steeled faith in Lord Tirion's fall their ranks would rise as one. The Silver Hand was reborn! With this new order of all that answered the Light's call, and saw it's favor cast upon them the one, and final step was taken. As marshal he would ascend to stand at Lord Maxwell's side as confidant to the very Ashbringer himself.. Zaeon, the Lightsworn was now one of three to bear the future of the Silver Hand under his command, cast upon his shoulders with knee never to buckle even against the most insurmountable of odds. ..He would stand as High Marshall, and Lord to their cause.

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Now, to my Vanilla/Burning Crusade main. This one has alot of changes and altering to be done to fix proper to Zaeon's above. This character is a forsaken, afallen paladin of Lordaeron, a champion of the Banshee Queen, and ultimately reborn paladin of the Dawn.

Grimlaldus
https://imgur.com/9VOI8FN

Reclusiarch Grimaldus - Former Human Paladin of Lordaeron turned Undead Warrior

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Former paladin of Lordaeron, and knight in service to the Dawn, struck down in combat against the scourge and raised only to become one with his enemy's ranks.. Twisted in dark magics and reborn again a forsaken, nothing of his old life remembered but the tabard his corpse bore. Name lost to the transformation this poor soul would come to take on the name Grimaldus and go forth aligned to the Forsaken's ranks.

Later in undeath he would return to the Dawn as the scourge marched down from Northrend and the deathknights with them to answer the Dawn's call to arms against all that invaded the lands that lain south of the frozen wastes of the north

In death the Light nolonger answered to this shattered shell's calls. He would be forced to step upon the battlefield, left with no choice but to assume the mantle of war and tread to battle a champion of the Dark Lady, a warrior of the Horde against the coming enemies of life.

Droves fell by blade and sheer will, his own hand and ally alike. Swaths fell, bodies split and crumbled of rotten flesh and sundered soul.. Still, he felt nothing. Numb, even to the rage of undeath this poor soul fought on on instinct alone. What had he become? From the Light's glory to the culvert of mud and broken being. Oh how far he had fallen. From knight of hope to wretch. It was the only thing left to feel in that numb ache inside. Sorrow.

Still he would clutch to life faded, glory lost, faith unshaken. Days, weeks, months spent he would repent himself in prayer within Light's Hope.. Venture to Uther's very tomb to speak with this fallen brother of the Light, even though no sane man would believe the dead to listen. ..Hah, the dead, listen. There was a joke even he could not escape with the ridicule the other forsaken gave to his own resolve to chase the Light in such a disappointing state as to walk in undeath. Still the butt of his own joke given truth he followed his own path with def ears.

Forsaken sworn to purge undeath.. The hypocrisy was hilarious! Forsaken seeking the Light. Faith. Duty. Courage. Honor. All these things the cornerstones of what it meant to serve the Light as one of it's chosen. All these things the very ideals all who cast eyes upon the forsaken believed them to spit upon.. Though the Light did not answer his calls, still he could hear the whispers of a voice calling for him in the distance. Was it darkness? Was it the Light? He could not care what reason screamed for him to step away, he would press on and seek his absolution.

Then the day of this absolution finally came. The siege of Stratholme. Now was the time to purge what disgust had taken the city to shambles and bring life anew with this disease swept away from the Light's very doorstep. Adventurers gathered, supplies and steeds the troop would set off from Light's Hope through the plaguelands, the looming necroplolis that was Naxxramas ever above them. Forward they pressed, from gates to streets, ghoul to corpse, spirit to beast..all that came before them would fall. To these, regretably so..even those battle blinded zealots Scarlets would be brought to heel. Such a waste..

Dead, Cult and Crimson Legion alike would fall to the press to see the once beautiful city clean of all marring that remain. Streets bathed in blood, bodies broken, dead and dieing in their wake the lot would ultimately see their quest end in the court of the Baron himself. Rivendare. Knight of death, puppet of the Lich, servant of Arthas. Enemy of the Light. There he sat upon his steed, watching their advance to the goliath of a beast that was Ramstien, all the while the coward would hide behind.

Weapons raised they would charge to meet the beast head long at met at the court's center. For what felt like hours they would battle this patched together mass of meat and guts spilling across the stone with each new cut, all to little effect. One after another their numbers dwindled with every hook's sweep and hatchet's slap. Were they doomed to fail? Twenty to fifteen, fifteen to eight, eight to four they drew closer and closer to the coming end, when finally they fell to three. A mighty whip of chain to catch the Forsaken across the face, splitting his brow and eyesockets open with a thunderous crunch of metal to bone, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Facedown he lie there, bones creaking as he tried to force them to move..nothing. Nerves numb, muscles torn, body crushed he could only watch in agony to this lost pain as another fell. Three now, only three. Why was he so weak? What had this all amounted to nothing, but a second death?! No! It wouldn't end like this! Light! Light do not allow it to be so!

Fist clenched tight, weapon pulled close this poor soul forced himself to stand and charge the beast just one time more. "No pity! No remorse! No fear!" Words shouted to ring the skys as he’d rise to leap on shattered knees to bring blade to strike down upon the beast's skull, splitting it asunder from crown to shoulder and with it Ramstein to his end. Abomination to fall, there he stood atop it's corpse, eyes set dead upon the Baron that watched them twist in the wind. Step by step the two approached one another, one with sinister smirk so cold ice practically hung from his gaze, the other a panting, winded mess of mangled bone and torn flesh..

"You are quite an impressive one, "traitor".." The voice came cold to echo that icy glare set upon Grimaldus, yet still this huddled mass would not waver. "Be silent, "puppet"." The undead shot back, only to be welcomed to the sweep of runeblade to catch to blade's edge, shattering it as if it was nothing but brittle glass to slivers across the ground. "You will hold your tongue before your "betters", banshee's bitch!" Another crackling yell and a second strike came to end the Forsaken where he stood, hardly upright, clutching at a hilt of blade left to mere ragged bits. It was the end...

With final moments ticking Grimaldus brought one last dishonor to this servant of the Lich.. Head raised he meet those empty sockets to the Baron that bore down upon him..and that was all it would take.

A ting of metal to air the runeblade was brought to halt. A shield. A priest? No..this shield was the Light's very hand given as amnesty of death. "What trickery is this?!" Rivendare shouted to resonate the court, pulling his blade away to strike again, only recieving the same.. "Trickery..?" Grimaldus chuckled back, smile cracking into a sneered smirk as their eyes met and time froze still. There in those empty sockets a gleam of gold built and burned for Rivendare. "There is no falsehood to the Light, you damned fool.." Came the Forsaken's words on hissed breath as he lifted his blade to strike back.

Runeblade to crumpled steel the two connected, faced off and were as equals. "The Light burns in these frozen veins, Rivendare.. It demands your head... ..it cries for retribution." He continued to threaten, stepping forward a single step with force to back his blade, steel squeaking and whining to steel. "..Who am I to deny such divine purpose?!" Words shouted to the sky Grimaldus leapt at the deathknight, swiping his blade away, and splitting the Baron's right shoulder to the very point his arm hardly hung from his form with wound hissing, smoking, burning with the Light's very touch.

"How?! Why does the Light answer you, undead?! Why?!" Retreating, Rivendare readied his blade and charged to meet him in a second lock of arms. Again and again they struck and tore at one another til tattered plate and cloth was all that clung to them. Fought to a standstill, one would only relent when the other would fall. Determinded to have their battle end with the other's head in his hands they struck at one another just one last time, only to have the moment shattered and stolen away to the foreboding trembling of court. "We have no time for this, Rivendare! Return to the necropolis, immediately!" The voice came in a frozen howl across the building faces all about. Kel'Thuzad would stand their pissing match no longer!

"Yes, Kel'Thuzad.. At your command." With that Rivendare drew his steed to flee, spun about, toward the northern reaches of the court and swirling mass of chaotic energy that lie there in wait. Mount in his wake, and Grimaldus only a single step behind it Rivendare would retreat in full stride to his escape. "You will not escape judgment, Rivendare!" Closer, ever closer the portal drew. No. He would not escape! Arm arched back, metal bathed in gold the forsaken drew upon the Light's divine strength in conclusion made manifest. Blade searing in golden light he clutched the hilt, arched back his shoulder and let the weapon fly. Energy soaked steel hurled and closing in by the moment. His escape was but a finger's tip away. He was safe! ..No.

Whirling blade sent sailing through stale air, portal just at arm's reach..and there it found purchase with a humming snap like steel on stone searing the air in a golden flash. Light burning through his being the baron was sent tumbling through the portal and from sight in one final disgrace. He had lost, to a "bitch" of the Banshee Queen at that, and before the very thing he had forsaken..the Light.

Battle "won", Stratholme "saved" the forsaken and two comrades to survive gathered themselves, tended to wounds, rallied their fallen and begin the trek back to Light's Hope to pay their last respects and see their brothers to their final rest amongst the gravestones.

All the while in their return he was left to puzzled thoughts. What had happened? Had the Light truly saw him worthy once more? His cause was righteous? In search of answers the forsaken returned to Uther's tomb to seek guidance of the Light and the Lightbringer himself. This visit though would come with a most curious of ends. It was not silence that welcomed him, but the very figure of the Lightbringer himself to stand there at it's steps. "Lord Uther!" A knee bent the forsaken fell before the figure with head hung. "I.. How is it possible?! You. ..You have heard me?" A hand upon shoulder and his head would rise again to the nod from the spirit. "I have, Wardric.. Your words have not fallen to silence. I, the Light..have listened.

Wardric, now there was a name long lost. His name, his true name before undeath.. "Grimaldus.." The forsaken replied, drawing a nod from the spirit. "Grimladus it is.." A wave of a hand and inside the two would walk to the many weeks to come in prayer and repentance to the Light. With these last sacrifices and vows given came the greatest of prestige one could hope to obtain.. His connection to Light restored!

Nearly three months bled by and finally under Uther's guiding hand the Forsaken would once more, in great martyrdom..have the Light's honest blessing. "You have come far, Grimaldus.. Your resolve is to rival even the most fervent of us. Your willingness to sacrifice even your very being for the greater good of our world. It is for these things you have rightfully earned your title I now bestow upon you, knight of the Light. You are henceforth to stand as Reclusiarch to our cause. Bear this honor with pride, brother..and see none may question your faith."

Final words broken the two would part, Grimaldus set off on his return to Light's Hope to live out his days, steeling the charge of those brothers and sister that answered the call to arms against this encroaching darkness that was drawing closer by the very day with every step of the Scourge pressed south.

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Many came and passed through his tutelage in the years to come, two most shining of these to be two elves of Quel'Thalas to their north. Father and son, Alaric and Zaeon. These two the first of their kind to seek the true Light's teachings, and he one so absurd a case to be the one to give it. Years spent the two would flourish under his guiding hand. From thieves to true knights of the Light father and son arose at their mentor's side, even coming to stand beside him at the siege of Light's Hope itself by the Lich King's knights of death!

Countless fell to either side, enemy and ally alike the toll was high..but still victory was won in the return of Lord Tirion, the Ashbringer, and true hope for an end to the madness that strangled the very life from their world one curl of a finger at a time.. The scourge repelled, the Ashbringer returned, the Dawn reborn. Their day was won, and with it the Ebon Blade now stood amongst them upon the corpses of their own fallen brothers slain in the name of righteous cause.

It was from these corpses Grimaldus would take up the armor of a fallen Deathknight at the word of one of their former allies, being told of the knight's strength as one of the scourge to bear such bestowments of the warquarters of Naxxramas and of this knight of death's ties to the service of the Lich, Kel'Thuzad as one of those charged with it's defense.. This armor was known well for chilled steel and the grimace of death it wore across it's ever surface. The armor of the Dreadnaught. Adorned in these new battlements he would return to the Dawn, as many with him from both sides, Alliance and the Horde alike to receive thanks for their sacrifice and to make preparations under Tirion Fordring to take their battle to Northrend itself to meet the scourge head on, as brothers of metal and faith..the Argent Crusade

It is through The Crusade that he would obtain his weapons to face the coming trails of war.. He would come to bear a great relic of the Dawn, and order of the Silverhand.. The Crozius Arcanum that their paladins of Lordaeron and Dawn before him had come to wield in the Light's name. Blessed and imbued with the Light's strength this weapon was holy might given form to vanquish their foes, man and fiend alike..the bastard mace, The Might of Menethil.

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Here we are now, three recent characters with the release of demon hunters that was made as an introduction to my own and two other friends' characters that I have done.

Kalgeren Felsorrow
https://imgur.com/ppM8oMz

Kal'Geren FelSorrow - Illadri Blood Elven Demonhunter, brother to Keltharaz Felwind, and third brother, Kahldriien Felspine previously the three sons to the Blazewind house.


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"But a flicker in the breeze, a simple crackle of flame upon tinder.. A gale to come, an inferno yet to hinder. Ashes upon the wind in blackened cinders..yet still their light will not fade. A burning, surging glow, only to ignite anew.. We are the house of Blazewind."

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With house name discarded upon standing once more as illidari, they had sworn life to a new master and purpose of every breath. ..No longer would they be bound by vows and duty to the realm of elf and mortal man. ..They would live only to serve and spill their blood upon the soil for one being and one alone, Lord Illidan and no other.

The Legion came, had slain their family, their friends, and almost the brothers too from one another's very hands. So the three fled. Fled into the wastes of the outlands. Through forest to swamp, crumbles of lands once full with life..all to ultimately end upon the shattered darkness that was Shadowmoon Valley. The three had thought themselves safe, at last..safe. They were as far as they could get from the that swirling portal of felfire and crackling, demonic energies the Legion came marching from in Hellfire, the monstrous gap of the two broken lands sure to be enough to keep them safe.. How wrong they were. Even Shadowmoon felt what was corrupt, sickness..the blight that was the Legion.

Seeking anything, anywhere they could they would finally in fleet came upon the BlackTemple. The colossal structure of foreboding darkness standing before them they would still in lack of better judgment seek it as their shelter, despite that clawing itch in the backs of their minds..what was it that kept the demons at bay from pushing forth into the grounds? ..Unsure of it's protection, still this place would be their liberation from the unrelenting demons horde's corrupting touch. Step by step through it's ever echoing halls they would wonder. ..Step by step seeing bodies slowly waning. Hunger, exhaustion, and wounds of flesh and mind pulling the three brothers ever further from their stride. With time turned short they would finally take to a mighty case of stairs, struggling, wobbling, clawing for every step, till they would come upon the room that lay atop.

The room lit by candle light, plush pillows and silks strewn about over what would appear to be every inch they could touch. ..What, who was it that called such a place home? Nolonger able to give the matter thought, their feet a single step further the three would call this room "home" for whatever short time they had left before once more family and friends alike would be at the brothers' sides..as spirits amongst the damned.

It was there they would be found in a huddled mess, sickness, wounds, hunger and lost hope draining their every breath with the passing moment. Collected and hauled away the three would be bought from the wake of death itself to kneel before those whom saw to the temple's command, but even these being of power and radiance still answered to another. Gathios the Shatterer. The High Nethermancer Zerevor. Lady Malande, and finally Veras Darkshadow.

These four with smirks drawn tight, and hands outstretched would lift the brothers to their feet once more and life anew. On offered hands would come a "gift", a "curse", a purpose.. Revenge, strength, determination, skill, and finally direction to channel their hate upon any and all that bled with green light to the grounds below them. ..In great spite to this "gift" the three would bend a knee to these beings of fel and corruption, their lives sworn to this "gift" and whom would see it placed upon their shoulders. The same demonic twisting of dark magic and pure, weeping shadow that pulsed through demon veins with every moment, and now would do the same of their own. Their savior, Lord Illidan, Stormrage.

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On to our forth now we have a troll warlock. Zanonzi. This one is more a concept than a true backstory so far

Zanonzi
https://imgur.com/XHiZ6YA

Zanonzi - Troll Warlock - Atal'ai Troll Priest - Zandalari Turned Gurubashi Tribe

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Being a caster and seeking knowledge as the Zandalari tribe does..it explains how he came to be a warlock to further the goals of his tribe and collected even more as they traveled the world, killing and reclaiming lands they could through ancient scrolls of warlocks that came in their path..ultimately having previously been a tribe voodoo-esque priest of blood rituals, using his own blood to summon and bind his demons to himself one by one, empowered by the "blessings" of the primal Gods, namely the savage God, Hakkar the Soulflayer himself.

As the blood god of Zul-Gurub..Zanonzi turned to call for the Soulflayer's blessing, yet still unable, even in his knowledge as an Atal'ai priest to the primal gods, and acquired twisting of the dark magics of a warlock to quell the oncoming onslaught of the Alliance and Horde that stormed Zul-Gurub..finally finding in the deaths of those that he once worshiped for their power..that nothing more could be done in his lust for power and the draws for demonic mastery. He abandon his now sundered tribe with Zul'Gurub's fall and would side with the Darkspear, and the Horde..his own sick goal forever stewing inside. He would learn all that he could from the Horde's members to further that desire, to see it come to pass...his return to the grave of many of his tribe, Zul'Gurub, and resurrection of their primal gods, returned through his magic and blood of the fallen "allies" he would lure along with him to feed them gorged.

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Here is another small portion to a backstory and concept. This time of my blood elven deathknight from the previous stories of Grimaldus and Zaeon. This is only a Mist of Pandarea section

Seladreus
https://imgur.com/K2gC3tO

Seladreus Bloodoath - Elven Death Knight

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Deathknight bound of Blood, and Frost, Seladreus would be charged under the Ebon Blade with the defense of Naxxramas, and it's armaments in the war quarter. He would see to the training of newly risen brothers and sisters to the scourge, and how they were to march in the Lich King's own footsteps as their own. It was only in his journey and trials of this new land, Pandaria would he come across the pandaren, and their warrior monks. Though among these creatures would he find one of skin bathed green. An orcish blademaster, his kind long thought to be forgotten, Drou'Kahng Gronntooth.

This master of the sword and sharped skills to mirror would the elf be taught the ways to wield not only the corrupted magic of undeath to vanquish his foes, but in skill honed, and charge to make it so. Over many months this master of the sword would train this knight of death in the ways of the blade, the peace of oneself and true strength of one's own will. With his knowledge passed on, and art ever etched into another's being, this orc would give one last gift to the elf. This gifts would be three blades, crafted by Drou'Kahng's hand themselves.

The blade's edge as sharp and as deadly as of whom's name it bore. Metal imbued by their very soul and the elements of which they called upon the aid.. Drou's own deceased mate, the trolless shaman, Hanna. The second would come a pair of blades, forged and quenched in the elf's own energies of the icy cold. Their edges dancing with very the chill of death itself to set the air around into slivers of ice and torment. The twin blades of Taurajo.

It was with these gifts Seladreus would be given reason to walk the earth in undeath anew. The mastery of the blade. Patience of one's mind, and a renewed vigor of the soul to calm his hate and direct his fury across the fields of battle. The knight was now master of his own will. All would be brought to kneel at his feet in penance to their ignorance, or face death at razor's tip.

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And now, onward to 2 RP sessions had. Yes, they aren't all that good I know, but still something I'd like to share here.. Let us get to the first here, with the second being more recent to follow. Consider then short stories.

Dawn Paladin Meets Scarlet Inquisitor

[14:44]*Zaeon Lightsworn smirked, almost wickedly so. Leaning in over her he'd press either hand upon the arms of her chair, bringing eyes to meet. Long since fel-tinted emerald shimmering before white and azure that stared back. "Let me make it very simple, M'lady.." He would begin, almost in a soft coo of breath. "I will only take..what I deserve. ..And you may only have, what you have earned." His comment came almost flatly so, that smirk across his lips ever tightening and slimming to down right ego driven arrogance to meet her.


[15:01]*Inquisitor Winters lifts her gaze to meet his, exhaling sharply through her nose. "That certainly does put it simply. But, one does wonder what one would do with one already following the Light. Can't exactly convert, not truly. Leads me needing to think of other things to do to one such as yourself should that situation arise."


[15:09]*Zaeon Lightsworn gave only the slightest of chuckles as the woman would sharply huff, that smirk on his face gone long past arrogance and now danced upon the edges of one's pride. "That..is quite simple, human." He'd lightly speak, right hand slipping up to be just at her left cheek and right his own, a dim glimmer of honey gold licked white there dancing at his fingertips. "The Light rewards one's devotion.." He would begin, ever so lightly shifting his wrist to bring but just the first two fingers to touch at the cheek of her blinded eye. "Now all that remains.." He would trail away again, softly with almost feathered touch slip those fingers down her cheek and jawline, ending with thumb to join and take her chin, holding her still. "..is whom's cause is truly greater. ..Your zealous crusade. ..Or one born of faith."


[15:19]*Inquisitor Winters allows herself a soft chuckle, not bothering to either pull away or remove the hand, merely meeting his gaze cooly. "Faith? Blessed is the mind too small for doubt, it would seem. The Argent Dawn is no more. Whatever semblance of unity it may have provided is nothing more than a phantom in the shadow of the Argent Crusade. Another Crusade, born of a single minded goal, a zealous pursuit of the destruction of the Lich King. One that, if the rumors are to be believed, and I see no reason why they should not... actually facilitated the creation of a new Lich King. Not only did they fail, they accomplished the exact opposite of their intended purpose. They betrayed the trust of not only those who followed them, but all of Azeroth. Such is the reward of ones blind faith."


[15:29]*Zaeon Lightsworn ground his teeth at the woman's words, brow furrowed at her. "With the Highlord's fall..does not see the Crusade kneel, bitch." He practically spat the words, an almost snarled growl came to his words, smirk turned to part and bare but the faintest of pecks of teeth behind. "And what of your Crusade?" He once more spat, leaning in to press forehead to forehead with the woman, those emerald eyes of zeal and fel-swirled darkness flickering in a snapped surge, only to lighten with a dim, quickly glowing gold mixed white glow. "The forsaken still march your lands, the scourge so far from your frail grasp that WE needed stand to their defiance where YOUR kind did not but cower in your monastery and lift not but a finger to see they not take all that we hold dear!" His voice would sharply raise as the final words slipped past his lips, the press of his head to her's only growing stronger, almost as if to try and push her's to see the chair's back. "It is WE of true faith, true courage who took the fight and lives to the see the Lich King fall, and all of our world lay safe from his grasp. YOU..DID...NOTHING!" The last word practically came as a snarl, that glow of gold taking his eyes completely, hand upon her chin now shimmering in that same light that had his eyes, fingers tightening, nails biting in to divot skin.


[15:44]*Inquisitor Winters smiled patiently at him, enjoying the feeling of his restrained fury through the fingers that dared not exert their full strength upon her face, the woman raising her chin as his forehead ground against her own in leiu of lashing out. When he finally finished, she let slip a soft sigh, shutting her eyes for a brief moment. "Do you feel better now? Get it all out?" She tutted gently, opening only her blind eye as that gentle smile grows more vicious. "I can understand that you and the rest of your filth feel important with the loss of that old, doddering fool. His failure is a direct consequence of his abhorrent betrayal. He called upon the light, and when weighed upon the scales, he was found wanting." Her other eye opens now, the icy-blue hue masked behind a shimmering golden glow. "My Crusade sent its own expedition. It landed upon the shores of Northrend. Did it find the same success? Of course not. We were but a band of the truly dedicated. Those who strove against all odds to land there despite the entire world being against us, while you all rode in with the backing of both Alliance and Horde. Perhaps we may have achieved greater success with reinforcement... But we learned long ago not to expect any. Especially not from mongrels such as you." She gave a smug smirk, pressing forward against him, meeting force with force, eyes growing wider with malice. "Lord Garithos saw your kind as what they were. Be it more had listened, and the world would have been rid of the blight that is the insult of your continued, miserable existence long ago."


[16:02]*Zaeon Lightsworn sighed sharply, eyes narrow on the woman as she spoke, that gleam of gold and white there slipping away to have his eyes shine emerald once more. His calm had slipped, he knew better than to let righteous fury guide him, nor her taunting take his focus. "And your kind stand no better." He huffs softly, the words coming slow from the tongue, that furrowed brow still pressed to her own. "Your KIND fell upon it's shores, only to be wiped as taint from one's floor before even the meager force that was Naxxramas. Your crusaders raises into undeath and taint to fight their own brothers and snuff their last breath away at their own blades." He would reply, teeth ground to one another, his look turned from pride and annoyance to outright disgust at what the woman swore her words. "Watch your tongue, scarlet bitch!" He shot back, fingers clenching down tight around her chin, pulling the woman forward hard to bend her from the chair as he would pull back, eyes of gold laced white of either to match the other's. "We are those sworn to the Light. We shall not falter! We shall not want!" He spat, eyes taking to a gleam of warning to what was just a moment from pass. "It is before it we are made humble.. It is with it's blessing..we..shall..fight." He growled back at her, bridge of his nose taking to wrinkles, that light against her chin beginning to heat the flesh that lay in his press as the paladin would recite one of his vows, and prayer to the Dawn and Light itself. With eyes turned smug to malice the two met, their causes burning in their eyes.. "You spit on faith. You deny vows of duty and courage. A true hero dies but a single death, and a coward dies a thousand times before forgotten!" He practically shouted, that glow across his hand surging once more in sharp heat to the woman's skin. "YOU! Are! Filth!"


[16:25]*Inquisitor Winters somehow suppressed the laugh that danced on the edges of her lips, pursing them tightly together as she shakes her head, chuckling instead. "And you call me the Zealot," she whispers. "Look at you. You can barely control yourself. Is your faith so weak that mere words can affect you so? Words that you then use in retaliation against me? For shame." She shakes her head, a hand finally coming up, the back of her wrist pressing to his own, pressing firmly to push it off of her and to the side. "Do not pretend your own number have not fallen and been risen in service of the Scourge. Hypocrisy at its finest. You shall not want? Your Highlord had a weapon of the purest Light, and fell all the same. A weapon he stole from its rightful wielders." A pause. "At least the Ashbringer continues to live up to its name. One more heretic burned from the face of Azeroth, ashes scattered to the wind. A better death then he had earned." Her other hand comes up, idly brushing off the front of her tabard. "By all means, continue your pointless struggle. You can no longer walk in the Light when your kind helped maintain the darkness that would silence it forevermore. Do the world a favor; throw yourselves against the Legion, pray the Light delivers unto you a swift death, and do try to take at least one demon into the Nether with you. Try not to make an even greater embarrassment of yourself, yes?" She tilts her head, a look of feigned expectation gracing her features, quickly wiped away with a mirthful chuckle. "No... That would be too much to hope for."


[16:44]*Zaeon Lightsworn drew his hand from the woman's face in all of a moment, light tracking it through the air as he pulled it away..and with one single moment it cast forth to strike her. "I said, Watch! Your! TONGUE!" The paladin shouted about as he struck, the press of her against him gaining no ground as it was met with much the same. "We stood upon the grounds of Icecrown.. We tread the halls of the Lich King's very doorstep and citadel. ..Where were YOU scarlet dog!?" He spat back in a growl, hand pressing tighter at her's, doing best to fend her off. "Tirion took to battle the very weapon your bastards saw drug through the dirt, slaying even the most noble men and warriors of might and magic that came to your side! Hypocrisy YOU swore to, only to have the one whom's footsteps you tread in toe of slay his very father, Alexandros in spite and greed to take from him the very blade Highlord Tirion took to battle, cleansed of the filth YOUR kind brought it to bare!" The paladin continued to all but scream in the woman's face, that fury of zeal and purpose ever burning in his eyes. "Your very allies and brothers turned in upon themselves to let darkness steal their hearts with the most simple of press. Greed, dishonesty, hypocrisy, no damned honor to be seen! Your Lord turned to step the world against the very living he swore to protect as a mere puppet of the Lich King himself! Where is YOUR right to speak, you scarlet bitch!?" Again he would draw his hand back, swatting her own from the blackened silk that draped his armor of pale white and silver, a mark of the sun drawn across it's front. ..Not a mark of the crusader, but that of the Dawn itself.


[17:21]*Inquisitor Winters turned her head as the light impacted against her, the woman standing abruptly, the back of her knees shoving her chair back and sending it to the floor. Light washes over her form in a thick veil, glimmering jewels of concentrated magic flowing over her form as if caught in a river. She let the magic shield her, aiding her in holding off his arm as the two stand there while he lashes out verbally. Her hand curls into a fist, both eyes shining brightly with her called upon power... before she takes a long, deep breath, shutting her eyes. A slow shake of her head follows, eyes re-opening to give him a tired look. "You cannot control yourself, and thus, I am done with you. Spit what filth you will, the moment you failed to control yourself and resorted to lashing out in me in such a manner, you failed. You failed yourself, you failed your order, you failed your Highlord. Think of how he would react, seeing you act like this, even after what I have said." With one last push she forced the arm away, turning to the side and stepping away from him, enough to physically seperate the two. "How disappointing. I expected more. You may return when you can act like a civilized human being." She shot a look over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips before waving a hand dismissively at him, apparently done with the conversation.


[17:37]*Zaeon Lightsworn huffed loudly. ..A shield? She dare bring the Light against one of it's own selfless of servants!? "You dare.." He would growl back at her, watching her stand and turn about, ears practically deaf to what it was she even spoke. "And you cannot control a thing, filth." The words left him as almost a hissed annoyance on drifting breath, that burning light upon his hand never to waver even for the slightest moment. "Crusade so blind you walked the steps of the Legion's guide. ..Lords to turn blade to one another only to steal away what they deemed their's." Without thought the words spilled from his lips, eyes kept narrowed on the woman all the while, even as she stepped away and he himself stepped one more forward. "The Highlord would smile upon my actions. ..To see those that look down upon the Light as their tool to slay the innocent.. To stomp out the very lives they swear the walk this world to protect." Another step and his hand would slip from sight, reaching back to grasp at the hilt of his blade, slowly drawing it from the sheath upon his back. "You things are as sick a plague as that which you give life to purge."


[17:53]*Inquisitor Winters pauses, this time not even looking back. "Do you intend to strike an unarmed woman over words, generalizations not even directed specifically at you? How low are you prepared to sink to justify your hateful actions?" She crosses her arms, raising her chin as her ponytail sways behind her. "Please, by all means, feel free to let your actions speak for themselves. Let them be the mirror upon which your hypocrisy is shown to all. I shall make no move. From here on, your actions are your own, and you will have no one to blame but yourself when you are brought to account." Her shield shone brighter for a brief moment, her body shimmering beneath it as she seems to strengthen the barrier. She was not foolish enough to blindly trust one who expressed opened hostility, it would seem, preferring to instead rely upon her own magical might.


[18:08]*Zaeon Lightsworn "Unarmed?" He chuckled out softly, fully drawing his blade.. An ancient sword bearing runes of azure glow down it's length, with almost a smokey white shine to follow its every movement across open air. A weapon made not by hands of mortal man. No..this blade was on passed through the ages, his people, his family, and finally father to son. Quel'Delar, Eburi lo dor ll'amare. Quel'Delar, the Might of the Faithful. Lifting the blade he would bring it's tip to point toward the woman, head flicked back just as it's shift would end, throwing his own bangs back almost to mock and mirror the woman's raise of the chin. "There is no greater blessing than to serve as instrument of the Light. To hold an unshakable faith.." He would lightly respond, narrowing eyes still aglow with golden light flashing in a sudden surge just as the woman's own encasement of magical energy would flare in the same. "Oftentimes the most dedicated paladins become fanatical in their devotion, instruments of retribution against those who dare defy the laws of the divine." He would continue on, another step take, second hand to raise and take to the hilt of his elven blade. "We paladins..templars are vengeful guardians of the weak, crusaders judging and punishing the wicked." He would finish, breathing heavily in, then out again. "Don't think your taint of darkness does not escape me" He would softly sigh, a ripped smirk curling the corners of his lips. "You have tried long since we shared glance to hide it..to mask it in these claims and weaving words. ..I am not one stupid enough to swallow down such blatant ignorance and smile with thanks you have given it." The paladin would continue on and on, the glow at his hand slowly seeping it's way across his weapon, only setting the runes across it to flash and deepen their azure hue. "Your stink of demonic influence practically seethes from you on every breath. ..You walk this path with a smile, knowing what you do hides behind false claims and hollow words, human. ..You will not see the Light brought this corrupt touch a single moment longer.." With his very last words the elf would draw back his blade and lurch forward, from overhead to down upon the woman it's edge would come, a sudden, blinding surge of light setting the room to pale white all around.


[18:35]*Inquisitor Winters didn't even move as the blade came down, cutting through her form like a heated blade through butter. There was no blood, only the tattered edges of mana given physical form, the spectral image smirking before collapsing in onto itself and vanishing entirely. The low thrum of barely restrained power would have easily been felt by the Blood Knight, the womans staff rolling over the back of her hand and into a firm grip as she appeared several yards behind him. "How blind you are, to simple, basic truths." She whirls the weapon over above her head before slamming the base of it into the ground, the shield that had encased her radiating out from her body, forming a barrier around her that cast its light upon all around it. "What demon are you aware of that is capable of wielding the Light? Did those fools teach you naught but how to strive against the undead? Were they so shortsighted they did not foresee the eventuality of the Legion returning? Normally, I would not deprive Azeroth of another defender in its time of need, but if you are truly that useless..." Her offhand stretches out its fingers, curling them inward as it leeches power from the shield, sparks of Holy might dancing between her fingers, collapsing into a growing fusion resting just above her palm, coalescing into an orb of pure Light. She draws the hand back, sneering at him before thrusting the hand forward, two fingers and her thumb outstretched as the spell launches forward, leaving golden ribbons trailing in its wake as it seeks the Paladin out.


[19:04]*Zaeon Lightsworn "Truth..is truth." He would sigh back, his words and anger all but gone in just a moment..an almost peaceful, relaxed tone remained. With half lidded eyes he watched the image before his shiver and blur, just to fade away entirely. He knew this magic well. The arcane and fel his people could bring to bare at their fingertips not far from it. "You will not escape justice, Hag." He would softly sigh, upon his back a golden glow would shimmer and sparkle with the Light's radiance, Light taking shape for his faith rewarded to wield as wings to lift up against even the greatest of blight. "You claim yourself priestess..yet here call the arcane to do your bidding." He practically cooed out, raising his blade with left hand to slip from it's hilt, right fist clenched down hard upon the metal and wood beneath as his blade drooped at his side, footsteps setting him once more toward her. "You claim me blind.. Scarlet dogs are such an ignorant little band of mongrel shit, aren't they?" He breathed out, a tone of almost to that of a noble speaking down upon their lessers having taken him. A quick spark of light and the two forces would meet, her barrier to his own, pressing and holding each other at bay, his footsteps to see him no further. "The Light by demon hands? ..Ha. Your Grand Crusader, Saidan saw to see that true for himself. ..Leading you fools down this path without so much as a question or whimper. ..All to be shown a weak peon to have darkness rip the very soul from him that the Legion might make fools of you all." The paladin would taunt with words proven true. Still he would attempt to take steps forward, crackles of magical energy between the two snapping and snipping loudly that the very ground below them darkened and broke with it's touch. "The forsaken send their ranks to stand with our own. ..You cut them down without second thought to your own words." He'd sigh out in all of a whisper, eyes slipping to shut, the shield that draped him flaring again, and the sound of the two would only strike louder. Rock cracking to pieces where the light would wash upon..and still neither gave a single back step. Such a horrid mistake. With fingers curled her barrier would waver and his steps continued. "Scarlet whore.." He'd sharply sigh, taking that very moment to dig his feet into the broken floor. Lurching forward toward her once again, a swift sweep of his blade coming across the air before him in a drag mirrored ribbons of light in it's wake, leading his charge and meeting the orb of pure light she had set upon him. ..Then the most peculiar of things would happen. Light met to Light the two refused one another. His blade would slice through it's energy without a single fluid movement hindered and at that it was gone, as was the glow that held his blade. ..It had seemed the Light had given it's judgment on the two. ..It would not see itself made into mockery by being set upon itself. "Tsk..damn." He'd huff out, practically snarling at the woman, brow furrowed, nose bridge set to wrinkles. "It appears the Light would see us both fools."

Dawn Paladin Within The Warderns' Vault

[19:14]*Zaeon Lightsworn Room dim of light. A cold chill and the heavy musk of the "unclean" wafting with every breeze that drew by. Horror. A place once held with such purpose to the safety of those threatened by the very existence of these "creatures" locked behind closed walls. The squelch of ichor. A heavy sigh of battle well fought. Blade drawn from the disgust of the flesh, fel-green slime to drip away in a sharp hiss of a burning scorch across a blade bathed in the shimmering while of holy blessings and ancient craft of steel and faith. "See that there are no others.." A voice laced of nobility, zeal. At rasp breath it would echo the halls. "Yes, High Marshal!" Would come as response of several to this order. The clatter of plate to stone and off their sound would fade into the halls.

A quick flick of the wrist and a spatter of glowing, steaming crackled fel blood would streak the floor. Rag pulled from his pouch and with it a small bottle of oil to drip across his weapon, wiped of the taint that he would not bear a second longer upon such a pride of his kin. "Light damned creatures.." The paladin would practically growl, eyes of his own dim-lit fel long since diluted set down upon the corpse that lay at his feet. A gasp from skull top to throat having split the inquisitor in parting. ..Light damned indeed.

"High Marshal! We've found them!" Came the call and salute of the knights that sworn to service under his rule. "Good.." The elf would reply, slipping his blade to his back once more. One step..another, the light clatter of plate and leather across the stone the elf would stride in toe of his neophytes. His purpose but a finger's tip away. "They" would soon walk the world in awakened purpose alongside their brothers and sisters of vengeance and hatred. Oh yes.."they" would make glorious brothers of metal at shoulder's side against the taint that crept across their world. Azeroth would not fall. Every drop of blood to spill kin and foe alike would see it so.



[19:43]*Cresanna Nightfall The demons had freed many of the creatures trapped in the vault when they took over. All manner of beast and demon freed from their cells. But many remained trapped. Encased in emerald were rows upon rows of warriors that had been trained for the sole purpose of defeating the Legion. These were not freed, but guarded instead. Their numbers weren't many, a few dozen at most, but even that many could take out an entire batallion of demons.
The Wardens had taken interest in the creatures. After all, not everyone could infuse themselves with undiluted fel energy, and tame it to their will. Off to the side of the main 'cell block', were small rooms, containing a single trapped Illidari each. Magical devices surrounded those crystals, and page after page of notes and observations filled each room. Of course, they were all empty of people, having left the demons to protect them. All save one, where a Warden still feverishly wrote and analyzed and inspected, trying to find something from the young woman trapped within the large emerald.



[20:07]*Zaeon Lightsworn "Spread out. ..Take the crystals and see they are free." Came the command of the elf with a quick sweep of the arm to send his men off to follow orders given. Another quick salute and the others of mixed races abound would set off into the winding halls of the vault. "There is more.." The paladin would murmur softly to himself, step by tentative step the elf would stride with caution of what might lie just behind the next hall's end.

A screech so sharp it would steal one's hearing in an instant. Whirled about with blade drawn and another demon would fall, cleaved in twine at razor's tip, innards left to spatter the ground across. "Damned beasts.." The paladin would hiss gruffly, a second noise catching his attention in but a moment. Spun about a second time with sword swung in a quick sweep the elf would bring it's tip to rest just at the throat of the armor clad woman that now stood in his presence. "What..do you do here, Sin'Dorei..?" The warden before him would growl out, lifting a hand to snap her gauntlet clad hand's back to brush the edge away from her face. "You have no place in these hallowed halls. Leave IMMEDIATELY!" The Kal'Dorei would howl at him, stepping forward with a roll of the arm, ringed glave swirling at his chest. A clash of metal, the scream of battle took the halls anew.

"You..know not..what you do, woman!" The elf would shout back, meeting the warden edge to edge, press to press with her, each determined to make the other submit to their advance. "No, elf! It is YOU who know not your cause!" Another shout would come, either to retreat and clash again. Again and again for what felt like hours the two would meet at equal grounds..then it happened. One last drawn slash and the gold pulse of holy Light would bath the paladin's blade. Steel to steel they
struck with a mighty crackled snap. The warden's glave lay in to shatter shards of metal and wood across the floor. Blade raised he would once again have her throat before his edge, back pinned at the wall. She would know no retreat. No reprieve from what came. Still the elf saw reason in the heat of battle. "Now.." He would lightly pant, those eyes of emerald set upon her behind mask of Titan runes and ancient Light blessed plate the paladin adorned of the hallowed halls of Ulduar itself. "..begone with you, woman. ..I will see them free. They will stand amongst us as allies, and your mistakes written away with justice well deserved."

With his last words passed he would bring his blade to draw away, edge turned side to crack to the side of the Kal'Dorei's helm and send it to topple and clank the floor across. "..leave, and never stand before me again, lest you taste the solace of death at Light's will." Words done the woman would rush away, forehead to cheek slick with sweat and drawn blood. Scooping her helm from the floor she would see herself down the hall and from sight. ..This place was full of challenges of mortal and demonic alike. ..None would escape judgment all the same.



[20:39]*Cresanna Nightfall With the Warden gone, all that was left in the room was parchment and the large emerald prison. All was silent, save the occasional cry of pain from a demon, and the crackling of gemstones as the emerald prisons in the main hall were opened up. Given a moment of reprieve, the woman inside the green gem could be more easily seen. She was slender and lithe. She wore a leather band across her breasts, and a pair of leather pants, both in black. Of course, she wasn't unarmored, the magical glowing tattoos a testament to that. Her braid hung behind her, frozen as if she was falling. She looked rather peaceful, as if she merely were asleep.
Opening the prisons was a straightforward, if a bit convoluted process. Once one knew what to do it was simple enough to open them, but without knowing it would be impossible. Of course, there had been documents detailing how to open them earlier in the vaults. A single rune, traced upon the surface of the crystal with an edged blade would cause the prison to shatter and free its inhabitor.



[20:50]*Zaeon Lightsworn "Here.." The paladin would lightly mouth on exhaled breath. A hand raised he would bring gauntlet to crystal, a low sigh slipping from him. ..It was their time. "I owe you nothing.." The elf would lightly sigh again with a gentle shake of his head. "We have given everything and more.." He would address the sleeping woman that lay within, fingers lightly scratching across the glass like crystal. "I stand for something.. You with blood on your hands, and broken bones.. We have lived it." Talking to himself the paladin would go on, sword lifted with tip raised to the ceiling above, the name of his edge passing in another gentle sigh of words which only he and his "kin" before him would understand it's tongue. ..His father's blade, and now their salvation. "I wield not blade made by hands of mortal man. ..I bear the sword forged by our ancestors, bathed in the Sunwell's radiant glow, "sister". Blessed, nay honored by the grace of the Light itself! ..Quel'Delar, Eburi lo dor ll'amare!" The name of the blade was well known to those that tread the lands of Northrend against the Scourge and their fallen king determined to see the world frozen under his hand.. "Quel'Delar, the Might of the Faithful."

A sharp snap of the wrist and a wisping glow of white and azure etched runes would set the air agleam and the crystal to shatter to slivers across the floor. Taken swiftly to a knee the woman's body would be left to fall into his hold with head set to droop over his shoulder an arm encircled her waist. "Wake, Demon Hunter.." The paladin would practically command, grip on her hugging her form tightly to that dark silken tabard that draped his chest and the armor that lay beneath. "You must wake now.. We. ..Azeroth needs thy hand." A small shake of her he would give and rise of knee to see them stand, arm still clutching that lilith body to his own. "Wake.. Please.."



[21:02]*Cresanna Nightfall fell forward against him as the crystal shattered around her. At first, it didn't seem like she was even breathing, but after several long seconds, she finally gasped and her eyes opened wide. Bright green flames where the night elf's eyes should have been immediately looked from side to side, a panicked look upon her face. The last thing she could remember was returning to the Black Temple, only to be captured by the Wardens. She pulled away from him, startled, and stumbled backwards, her body stiff and unused to moving. She fell onto the floor, and then asked, "Who... Who are you? And where am I?" Her hands moved to her waist, looking for her weapons, but of course, they were gone.



[21:10]*Zaeon Lightsworn took a backstep from the woman's retreat, almost immediately dropping to a knee before her, head hung with fist tightly grasping his blade with tip perched on the stone below. "Calm yourself, Illiari. I am not your enemy!" The elf would shout out, remaining in his repentant state before her, bangs bled away to cover his face and dangle to lick across the floor below. "I am Sin'Dorei. Brother of your own blood!" Another mighty shout to echo the halls around. "Zaeon, the Lightsworn! Knight bound of blood to the grand realm of Quel'Thalas! High Marshal in command of the Dawn, and paladin sworn to the Light! You need not fear me.." His introduction was loud enough to shake the walls, yet still his tone was that of a noble and his station shouldered. "We have come to see you and your others are freed. We are in dire times indeed that the Legion once more marches upon our world.." Head quick to raise he would meet those burning eyes of fel-blood with his own of dim-lit emerald to hold it's same taint in such dilution one would hardly find it so. "Will..you help us?"



[21:28]*Cresanna Nightfall glanced around as he spoke, her unique eyes allowing her to see that her fellow demon hunters were being freed as well. The last she could remember was Lord Illidan and the Black Temple being under attack by both Alliance and Horde. So she did not immediately ease up. It was until he mentioned the Legion, and asked for her help that an almost sadistic grin formed on her face. "I see... So you keep us trapped, until you find you need us, then free us and presume we'll aid you?" She got to her feet, steadying herself with the table next to him. "To fight the Legion...?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, "But of course we'll join you," Her legs quivered slightly as she stood tall with a grin. She had yet to notice, and did not remember yet, the change to her body that absorbing the demon shortly before her capture had done to her.



[21:37]*Zaeon Lightsworn silent as the woman spoke he would bow his head again, eyes shut tight. Her words rang true, even if not by his own hand did they come to be. "We have had no deed wronged you, Illidari." The paladin would reply, not bothering to change his place even now as her footsteps would tap their way off the walls around him. "The blind saw you to prison.. That shame is their's to bear.." He would state, tone still noble but with true sympathy to the woman's state. ..Such time locked away and seen as a lawful evil to be purged from existence. "Unclean" as they were, there was still shreds of reason hidden within.

Head raised he would meet her eyes, acceptance there now to meet his gaze. "We are truly in your debt, M'Lady, Illidari." Lifting himself the Sin'Dorei would stand even at his meager high to loom over the woman before him, a small, if not wary smile hidden behind his faceplate. Turned on heel he would motion to the room's corner and the curved handblades that lie there on wooden rest. "Come. ..We hadn't much time. Take up your blades, and let us make haste." With those words and a quickened pace he would begin his rush down the darkened halls that lie before them, quickly joined by others of the demon hunter's kin and his brothers of the Silver Hand. ..Oh to glorious battle they would race. Onward with ever step to the next challenge they shall conquer.



[21:47]*Cresanna Nightfall gave a soft scoff as the paladin addressed her so respectfully. She moved to grab her weapons as he motioned to them, hoisting the large blades tightly, smile wide on her lips. Truly, she had missed their weight upon her hands. She traced a finger along the blade's edge and then gave a satisfied nod. Still sharp, of course. She followed next to him, her body finally limbering up after a decade of being trapped. As she walked, she said, "My name is Cresanna. No need to refer to me as your lady or whatever that was. Save your courtesy and nobility for someone who deserves it. She was clearly eager, practically twitching, to fight, ready for battle.



[22:13]*Zaeon Lightsworn would softly shake his head to the woman's words, so hard to shake his customs it was. "All women deserve such respect, Cresanna.." He would sigh out, his pace ever quickening with clack by clack of greaves, metal to metal, plate to stone as they rushed toward the entrance and the woman's first true taste of outside light in all too long. "Others of your kin await just on the outskirts of the vault. Even some of the Wardens have taken to our side, outside of blind insanity to your imprisonment. They stand with us, Horde, Alliance. All united under a single banner to see our world defy the demon spawn that march our lands." Without a word, or even the simplest waver in his tone he continued on, the end of the halls just off in the distance. "We all take the battle to the Legion. All races, every with a heart with the courage to stand. We are brothers and sisters of battle." With his last words they stepped into the faded light of lowering day and darkened sky set aflame in demonic magic. ..This was their battlefield, and the war had just begun.



[22:29]*Cresanna Nightfall gave a small sigh, listening to him closely. "It really was about time... All this petty infighting lead to nothing but trouble. We have been warning of the Legion's strength from the very beginning. But it's good that you have finally put aside differences to do something that truly matters. Know that no matter what, you may count on me and my kin to fight against the demons of the Legion. My blades fight alongside yours, paladin."



[22:40]*Zaeon Lightsworn nodded, raising his blade to the sky in a flashed shimmer of sun and faith born light, the ground at his feet set ablaze in the burning gold that was holy might. Soil purged in all but a moment they now stood upon dirt not with the slightest hint of the darkness that polluted the next step before them. "Brothers!" He would call to the sky, taking his first step to see each and every one to follow would do the same of what lie beneath him, purging away the darkness of the Legion's grasp with the Light's strength given flesh. "Sisters!" Came another shout, Quel'Delar still held high above him. "On this day the Vault is our's! The illidari are free! They stand beside us in defiance of the Legion's ignorance! They will NOT have our world set to flames of fel and twisted corruption as they have the Outlands!"

To the paladin's words would come the hollers and cheers of his peers around them. Turned to Cresanna he would extend his free hand, that she might take it and join them in truth in their cause. ..And still further vows would spill from him to the joy and fervor of those crowded before them in armaments of steeled faith. "To serve as instrument of the Light is to hold an unshakable faith! We are instruments of retribution! We stand against those who dare defy the laws of the divine! We! The Dawn! The Crusade! The Silver Hand! We are vengeful guardians of the weak, crusaders of judgment! Punishers of the wicked and unclean! We shall not falter!"



[22:55]*Cresanna Nightfall looked somewhat nervous as she took his hand. She was used to following, not leading. After all, Illidan had been their leader, she had simply been second in command. And being put in the spotlight like that was a bit too much for her. But after hearing his proclamation, she couldn't simply leave it at that. She looked to the soldiers around them, to her fellow Illidari, and she raised one of her warglaives. "The Legion will fall to our blades!" She shouted loudly, and proudly. Succinct and to the point.



[23:04]*Zaeon Lightsworn with smile drawn tight he would turn his eyes to the woman that now held his hand in her own. A gentle squeeze in his grip and he would set himself to cast eyes down before them. There they stood..illidari, and Human. Elf to Orc. Worgen to Forsaken. All together, united in a single cause. It was a beautiful sight. Such a horror it was of those that would dare stand in their path!

[Vx-Odessa-xV]

Wow this post is old..I hardly remember I made it all these years back. ..Damn.

- - - Updated - - -

Well, anybody that happens to give this a look, and feedback on whatcha think is welcome. I’d love to hear what the viewers think of my work

[Vx-Odessa-xV]

Hm, guess nobody had any words for my writing.. Thats unfortunate, I'd really like to see what people think of my writing and the direction I am taking these characters from a Lore and "believable" point of view.

Infracted.

[Raetary]

Hm, guess nobody had any words for my writing..

its just way too long, no ones gonna read through that.

[Vx-Odessa-xV]

its just way too long, no ones gonna read through that.

Heheh..hey a guy can dream, right?

[FelPlague]

Heheh..hey a guy can dream, right?

you can dream, but its not cool to necro your 2 year old post, then bump it 4 days later...
I have a thread i worked super hard on and got only 1 reply... do you see me necroing it every single day? no...

1. this is way too large, no one is going to read it
2. its 2 years old, any lore it has it in could be drasticly wrong as 2 chronicles have come out since
3. its rp based, these lore forums allready have very few rpers so your audience is even lower.