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- Jul 11, 2006
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The second story among the ones I intend to release. (The first was my entry for the story contest 2) this story is one of many tales of the main antagonist of my project. Comments will be appreciated.
The Storm grew stronger and stronger as it crashed upon the Broken Isles. No living creature was in sight, hiding from the storm probably, and it had been many days since the eagle had something to eat. Disappointed, the eagle dove and landed beneath one of the impressive structures on the top of the cliff, hiding as well from the heavy rain. It will try again when the storm end.
It wasn't a usual place for an eagle, but the sudden lack of food at the eastern mountains had forced many of the local creatures into wandering.
The eagle was just drying its wings when a slim, hooded figure appeared out of the thin air on the edge of the cliff. The eagle froze, sharp eyes fixed upon this new strange phenomenon. Then the figure set off with light, slow strides. The eagle noticed that the rain was somehow ignoring it, falling around it instead of on it.
Suddenly, the figure turned its eyes to the eagle; the left glowed with brilliant gold and the right with disturbing scarlet. Startled, the eagle quickly spread out its wings and leapt from its hiding place-- and burned with a burst of green flames, turning into dust.
The man lowered his hand and shook his head. He could not allow anyone to see what he was doing, not even the animals. The storm he had summoned earlier should have kept all livings creatures in their hiding places, but there were always exceptions. "No matter" he thought and began picking his way carefully across the island.
After hours of walking, he was standing at the base of an ancient temple, its outer walls barely visible after centuries of moss, fungus, coral, and barnacles. Elves, his people once, crafted this structure, and once it was beautiful and ornate. Now, however, its walls were rough and rolling, and the edifice resembled a natural mound of dirt and seaweed and encrustations rather than something that had been built deliberately.
It was seems that beyond the temple entrance there laid only thick darkness, but he could sense the magic within the old structure: it was powerful, immensely so, and evil beyond imagining. And it was filled with hatred, intense and directed toward anything living. Just as he was.
He smiled, then without hesitation, stepped forward into the darkness. No regular eyes could see through the darkness here without a light source, but his could, for from darker darkness they came. The halls and rooms here were as altered as the building's exteriors, the floors coated with sand and grit and seaweed, the walls festooned with more weeds and shells of various shorts and sizes. Even the doorway had been altered, their outlines smoothed and rounded and distorted by the creatures that had clung to them for all these long years.
He quickly found the central corridor and proceeded along it, deeper and deeper into the dark. When he finally reached the vault door it was wide open for him, but more importantly, it was open for the one who will come to claim what lies within. The darkness behind the door was so thick and cold that even the brightest of lights could not penetrate, but he was still able to see through it, just as he knew the one who is destined to come here would.
Nevertheless, he had to be sure. He raised his hand and pointed it right into the heart of the darkness, reaching to the spell that was casting upon it. He was impressed, the girl's spell was indeed a strong one, but nothing to compare to his. It was easy to grasp the spell and once he had firm grip upon it he began to tug, magically pulling the spell's energies toward him. He enjoyed every moment of the process, and after few moments the darkness became lighter, warmer and penetrable by almost any light source.
Pleased, he lowered his hand and turned away when the guardians of the temple appeared. The five demons were the best choice the girl could make for guarding his master's tomb. They were cruel, deadly and terrifying to death. Those five were the last in the temple. The rest probably escaped as soon as the vault doors opened.
The five demons crouched, preparing to advance on him when, without showing any weakness, he stepped forward and passed them quietly. He could sense the demons confusion now: surely no one ever, not even the female that imprisoned them here, showed such clam when encountered them. This caused the demons to hesitate and reconsider about attacking him. Regardless, they followed him, no doubt to make sure he will not do anything he would regret on.
After few minutes of walking through the corridors he found what he was looking: a blood trail. The trail led into the heart of the temple, and to his final destination. He began to follow it, with the growling demons right behind him. They passed through corridor after corridor until they reached to a wide room; all the walls in the room were surprising blank, all except one. On the widest wall was written, with glowing red blood, the tale of the one he was looking for. He began to read, and soon discover the Orcs died a terrible death. He then lowered his look to the floor and saw him, lying in a pool of blood, dead. The corpse was so devastated that it was hard to tell it was once an Orc. He turned around and glanced at the guardians, the beasts smiled. They probably found what they did to the Orc amusing. Disgusting…
He turned back to the Orc's corpse and opened his mouth. A swarm of carrion beetles spew out of it and swarmed over the bloody mass, quickly consuming it, leaving nothing but the Orc's shattered skeleton. He could just burn it, he thought as he watched how the beetles die after finish their feast, but he needed the skeleton undamaged for his plans to succeed. After the last beetle died, he approached the skeleton and examined it: all the bones of the skeleton were shattered. All expect, to his surprise, the skull. He picked it up and looked on it more closely. It was perfect, without a scratch, and the warlock's powers and memories were still within it, unaltered and strong as they were before the Orc died. But he did not need them, not for himself anyway.
"Have you found what you were seeking?" a faint but cruel voice echoed amongst the temple walls. Although his master physical form was destroyed, his spirit still existed. It liked to return to the temple from time to time to reunite with its body remains, in memory of the days of power. "Yes" he replied to his master's question. "I will make sure the skull will fall into the right hands."
He turned to leave when he saw the guardians were still behind him, growling and watching him with their dark eyes.
He considered few seconds before asking. "Pardon me, master" he said with a cautious but confident voice. "But the guardians might be a threat to our friend's progress, and even perhaps to his success." He had to wait a minute or so before he heard his master reply, but this time it was not a question, it was an order. "Kill them" the echoed cruel voice said "All of them."
Furious and betrayed by their master, the five demons roared and charged across the open space at their victim. But before their shadowy claws could reach out to caress his body, he thrust out his right harm and unleashed a blast of red lightning, so bright and so powerful that the entire temple was suddenly lightened by it. The lightning stroke the biggest among the five, which exploded in his place, leaving no evidence he was ever exist. The other demons ignored their comrade death and pressed toward their target, but then he vanished, moment before the demons crossed the air in the place he once stood. He reappeared in the other side of the room and immediately unleashed another red lightning attack on the second demon, killing it in the same way he killed the first. And so he did with the third, and the fourth. After he killed the last demon, he lowered his hand and took a small breath. He then brushed his robe, turned to the vault direction, bowed low, and disappeared, when the Skull of Gul'dan still held by his left hand.
The Storm grew stronger and stronger as it crashed upon the Broken Isles. No living creature was in sight, hiding from the storm probably, and it had been many days since the eagle had something to eat. Disappointed, the eagle dove and landed beneath one of the impressive structures on the top of the cliff, hiding as well from the heavy rain. It will try again when the storm end.
It wasn't a usual place for an eagle, but the sudden lack of food at the eastern mountains had forced many of the local creatures into wandering.
The eagle was just drying its wings when a slim, hooded figure appeared out of the thin air on the edge of the cliff. The eagle froze, sharp eyes fixed upon this new strange phenomenon. Then the figure set off with light, slow strides. The eagle noticed that the rain was somehow ignoring it, falling around it instead of on it.
Suddenly, the figure turned its eyes to the eagle; the left glowed with brilliant gold and the right with disturbing scarlet. Startled, the eagle quickly spread out its wings and leapt from its hiding place-- and burned with a burst of green flames, turning into dust.
The man lowered his hand and shook his head. He could not allow anyone to see what he was doing, not even the animals. The storm he had summoned earlier should have kept all livings creatures in their hiding places, but there were always exceptions. "No matter" he thought and began picking his way carefully across the island.
After hours of walking, he was standing at the base of an ancient temple, its outer walls barely visible after centuries of moss, fungus, coral, and barnacles. Elves, his people once, crafted this structure, and once it was beautiful and ornate. Now, however, its walls were rough and rolling, and the edifice resembled a natural mound of dirt and seaweed and encrustations rather than something that had been built deliberately.
It was seems that beyond the temple entrance there laid only thick darkness, but he could sense the magic within the old structure: it was powerful, immensely so, and evil beyond imagining. And it was filled with hatred, intense and directed toward anything living. Just as he was.
He smiled, then without hesitation, stepped forward into the darkness. No regular eyes could see through the darkness here without a light source, but his could, for from darker darkness they came. The halls and rooms here were as altered as the building's exteriors, the floors coated with sand and grit and seaweed, the walls festooned with more weeds and shells of various shorts and sizes. Even the doorway had been altered, their outlines smoothed and rounded and distorted by the creatures that had clung to them for all these long years.
He quickly found the central corridor and proceeded along it, deeper and deeper into the dark. When he finally reached the vault door it was wide open for him, but more importantly, it was open for the one who will come to claim what lies within. The darkness behind the door was so thick and cold that even the brightest of lights could not penetrate, but he was still able to see through it, just as he knew the one who is destined to come here would.
Nevertheless, he had to be sure. He raised his hand and pointed it right into the heart of the darkness, reaching to the spell that was casting upon it. He was impressed, the girl's spell was indeed a strong one, but nothing to compare to his. It was easy to grasp the spell and once he had firm grip upon it he began to tug, magically pulling the spell's energies toward him. He enjoyed every moment of the process, and after few moments the darkness became lighter, warmer and penetrable by almost any light source.
Pleased, he lowered his hand and turned away when the guardians of the temple appeared. The five demons were the best choice the girl could make for guarding his master's tomb. They were cruel, deadly and terrifying to death. Those five were the last in the temple. The rest probably escaped as soon as the vault doors opened.
The five demons crouched, preparing to advance on him when, without showing any weakness, he stepped forward and passed them quietly. He could sense the demons confusion now: surely no one ever, not even the female that imprisoned them here, showed such clam when encountered them. This caused the demons to hesitate and reconsider about attacking him. Regardless, they followed him, no doubt to make sure he will not do anything he would regret on.
After few minutes of walking through the corridors he found what he was looking: a blood trail. The trail led into the heart of the temple, and to his final destination. He began to follow it, with the growling demons right behind him. They passed through corridor after corridor until they reached to a wide room; all the walls in the room were surprising blank, all except one. On the widest wall was written, with glowing red blood, the tale of the one he was looking for. He began to read, and soon discover the Orcs died a terrible death. He then lowered his look to the floor and saw him, lying in a pool of blood, dead. The corpse was so devastated that it was hard to tell it was once an Orc. He turned around and glanced at the guardians, the beasts smiled. They probably found what they did to the Orc amusing. Disgusting…
He turned back to the Orc's corpse and opened his mouth. A swarm of carrion beetles spew out of it and swarmed over the bloody mass, quickly consuming it, leaving nothing but the Orc's shattered skeleton. He could just burn it, he thought as he watched how the beetles die after finish their feast, but he needed the skeleton undamaged for his plans to succeed. After the last beetle died, he approached the skeleton and examined it: all the bones of the skeleton were shattered. All expect, to his surprise, the skull. He picked it up and looked on it more closely. It was perfect, without a scratch, and the warlock's powers and memories were still within it, unaltered and strong as they were before the Orc died. But he did not need them, not for himself anyway.
"Have you found what you were seeking?" a faint but cruel voice echoed amongst the temple walls. Although his master physical form was destroyed, his spirit still existed. It liked to return to the temple from time to time to reunite with its body remains, in memory of the days of power. "Yes" he replied to his master's question. "I will make sure the skull will fall into the right hands."
He turned to leave when he saw the guardians were still behind him, growling and watching him with their dark eyes.
He considered few seconds before asking. "Pardon me, master" he said with a cautious but confident voice. "But the guardians might be a threat to our friend's progress, and even perhaps to his success." He had to wait a minute or so before he heard his master reply, but this time it was not a question, it was an order. "Kill them" the echoed cruel voice said "All of them."
Furious and betrayed by their master, the five demons roared and charged across the open space at their victim. But before their shadowy claws could reach out to caress his body, he thrust out his right harm and unleashed a blast of red lightning, so bright and so powerful that the entire temple was suddenly lightened by it. The lightning stroke the biggest among the five, which exploded in his place, leaving no evidence he was ever exist. The other demons ignored their comrade death and pressed toward their target, but then he vanished, moment before the demons crossed the air in the place he once stood. He reappeared in the other side of the room and immediately unleashed another red lightning attack on the second demon, killing it in the same way he killed the first. And so he did with the third, and the fourth. After he killed the last demon, he lowered his hand and took a small breath. He then brushed his robe, turned to the vault direction, bowed low, and disappeared, when the Skull of Gul'dan still held by his left hand.
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