Ered’Kiels Desolation (IC Closed 2)

[Sericon-emerald-dream]

Grabbing a handful of dust she blows it into Sericon’s face, before jabbing him in the kidney.

This wasn’t exactly the way he pictured Izzabelle waking up! The dust flew into his face coating his goggles and temporarily blinding him, Sericon reacted quickly the blast trying to wipe his goggles but leaving his side exposed… Not that it was armored in the first place, Sericon owner no armor still, his tattered robes his only protection. Sericon felt Izzabelle jab him hard in the kidneys bring him down to his knees… Izzabelle kicker hard sending the elf tumbling and his sword clattering away harmlessly, he was still not that good at wielding such a weapon!

“I will not let you torture me, and kill me, like all the others. I will not be ripped apart by another of Ebony’s foul illusions. I’ll rip you apart before I allow that.”

Sericon held his hand up crying out, “Its me I’m not a illusion! I’m here to get you out!” Sericon prepared for the inevitable bite of pain as Izzabelle’s blades drew closer! To his surprise his hands felt heavier as something still responded to his call… The feeling was all to familiar, his scythe like staff now was held in his hands in a attempt to block! Sericon still wasn’t a true warrior but he atleast had familiarity with such a weapon!

He was successful but just barely the scythe responded to his movements much more fluidly than the bulky and threatening demonic blade. Still Sericon could only barely block Izzabelle’s attacks, he refused to strike back!

Pathetic little girl, thought she could win against me. Now her mind is nearly broken, her pain, and despair, are like a delicacy. Tell me you simple boy, would you like a taste. Join me I can make her whole, make her yours. No longer would you be made to crawl before those who believe themselves your betters. Now you will be the one to make them crawl, to make them beg. Visions of Salkeen, and Jericha, crawling across the floor, on bloodied hands, and knees, pleading for mercy, fills Sericon’s head.

Sericon was assaulted with whispers and visions during this incursion into Izzabelle’s mind… Sericon shook his head, No! She isn’t yours, you have no right to give her to anyone! Sericon watched the vision of Salkeen and Jericha made to crawl and inside it made him grin but still something wasn’t right…

Izzabelle would belong solely to you, no longer would she long for Salkeen’s ownership. No longer would she dream of others as these words fill his mind so to does the image of Izzabelle kissing Salkeen. That and the pictures of her and a Void Elf Captain, embracing each other, in a candle lit room.

You can’t… She… Sericon couldn’t believe the images he saw, it did inside fill him with jealousy a bit, but only because he mostly had refused to acknowledge such things and now they were put right in front of him…

You want her for your own, don’t you? To save her from those who would hurt her. You know she is being forced into signing a contract with the dark one. Will you remain the weak elf that you are, will you let the one you care for, be continuously owned and destroyed by others. Or will you take control of your own future, and claim what is rightfully yours. Dark laughter fills the air around him as the voice fades into nothing.

They all leave her, no… They… Don’t… The master is… Sericon wasn’t sure how to respond, this couldn’t be right…

[Ebóný-moon-guard]

While the fight against the doppelgänger proved entertaining at first, Ebony quickly grew tired of it. Being that it was it a copy of him, it didn’t take him long to figure out its attack patterns, and thought sequences. Turning to face the Doppelgänger once more, Ebony lifts his staff, and bangs it down onto the onyx floor, of the tower room, the two are currently battling in. As the end of the staff hits the floor, a magic rune circle appears beneath the Doppelgänger and flares to life. Thousands of void tentacles, and tendrils, burst up from the runes circle. They wrap around the Magic born creatures Arm, legs, shoulders, neck, waist, chest, head, hands, feet, etc… Once the Doppelgänger is fully Incase in the living twisted horrors. Millions of tiny mouths open on the tentacles, revealing rows of sharp pointy teeth. The mouth latch onto the flesh, then the teeth start to come down out of the mouth. The spin like a drill as they saw into the beasts hide. There’s a distinct gulping sound as chunks of skin, and muscle are swallowed. The teeth retract back into the mouths, replace by long flexible, hollow tone like appendages, with needle sharp tips. The Doppelgänger’s magic and insides are sucked up like a child drinking from a straw. Once it is drunk dry, the mouths devour, the rest, leaving not a trace behind. Ebony turns, and glides like a wraith from the room. As he leaves the room goes dark, the tentacles melting back down into the floor.

Ebony enters his library, and floats over to the section that contains his oldest, and most vile tomes. It was time to break the mind of that poor little rogue, oh and he would take his time doing it. He now knew her fears, the things that made her recoil in terror. The things that would paralyze her mind leaving her vulnerable, and opened to his influence. He would have to the pathetic halfbreed, his wayward granddaughter had taking up with. Perhaps he would let him watch as he destroyed his granddaughters mind, and body. However for now he had smaller fish to fry, within the labyrinth of Izzabelle’s mind, a nightmare sequence begins.

Sobbing Izzabelle buries her face into his chest, “It was horrible I was turned into some awful looking monster.” She gasps out breathlessly. She feels Captain’s hands rubbing her back as he pulls her closer, and then pain. Stabbing, burning, horrific pain, she goes to speak but no sound comes forth. Blood bubbles out of her mouth and spilling down over her chin and neck. She collapses onto the bed… but there is no bed… or Captain… Instead she is looking into the hate filled eyes of the Gnome who raised her, the one whom, she had called Father for the better part of her life. Izzabelle chokes on more blood as he pulls his blades from her back. “Die you hideous monster” he shouts driving his blades down into her a second time.

Ebony cannot help the cruel laughter that falls from his non corporeal lips. As he watches the foolish girls mind break, and shatter, with each new nightmare. To give her a glimmer of hope, and comfort, before maliciously ripping it away. Leaving in its wake fear, depression, despair. When he was done with her, the wretched child would be so broken, nothing would fix her. Yet as he continues to break Izzabelle’s mind, another enters her labyrinth. One who’s mind isn’t protected, one that dear Izzabelle is rather attached to. Ebony scratches his chin in contemplation, *perhaps this one could be manipulated, and used. He watches through Izzabelle’s eyes as she is awoken by him. Grins sadistically as she strikes out at him, believing him to be another nightmare. Part of him want to feel her agony if she were to kill him, the horror, and devastation, she would feel when the realization sank in, would taste like the sweetest of wines. Still he might be able to use him, so he starts whispering into his mind. You want her for your own, don’t you? To save her from those who would hurt her. You know she is being forced into signing a contract with the dark one. Will you remain the weak elf that you are, will you let the one you care for, be continuously owned and destroyed by others. Or will you take control of your own future, and claim what is rightfully yours.

They all leave her, no… They… Don’t… The master is… Sericon wasn’t sure how to respond, this couldn’t be right…

Ebony’s mocking laughter fills Sericon’s head, Oh! But they do leave her, the pain they have caused her, the sorrow, and despair. Will you let it continue, will you remain the weak creature that is always under their thumbs. Or will you take control of both yours and Izzabelle’s future. As long as she belongs to another, she will never be yours. She will always be at their mercy, subjected to their cruelty. He fills Sericon’s mind with the image of Salkeen ripping Izzabelle’s soul from Jericha. The sound of Izzabelle begging and screaming in pain as her soul is being burned fills his head. Do you understand boy, as long as she belongs to them, they can rip her soul from you just as they did from her. You claim you care for her, yet you would let monsters like that own her. If she must be owned, would it not be best if she was owned by one who cared. Unless you are like them, and only wish to use her for what you can gain. the sinister voice whispers. Do you feel that, her mind is slipping deeper into despair with each passing moment. You can be powerful, have complete control of her, or you can be weak and watch as she dies. If you choose to save her from me, simple boy, she will be destroyed by them. visions of Izzabelle’s broken body being slammed into a wall covered in jagged stalagmites, and sharp metal shards, appear in Sericon’s mind. Jericha laughs mockingly as Izzabelle’s body soon resembles ground up beef with bone shards and bloodied bits of flesh clinging to it. She is no longer even recognizable, except for her eyes, lifeless eyes that accuse him of letting her down, when she needed him the most. I will give you the strength to protect her from them, all you need to do is get her to call my name.

[Jericha-draka (Jericha)]

Salkeen glared at Jericha, his eyes were fully glowing and occasionally sparked fel fire as he regarded her… “Purge then from my world! Show not even the slightest of mercies.” Salkeen commanded

As soon as the last syllable left Lord Salkeen’s lips Jericha was gone with a quick. “Yes Lord Salkeen.” She appears on Centralis close to one of the groups of Eredar spell casters. With a flick of her rest, she opens a collapsing void beneath them. She hisses in anger at them, as Umbral tentacles whip up out of the swirling darkness and wrap around them. “You think to attack my daughter, on my Lords world. You will beg for the release that death can give you by the time I’m through with you.” Some of the Eredar let out startled gasps, recognition filling their eyes. “Mistress Jericha we didn’t rea…” their pathetic excuses are silenced as barbed tentacles force their way into their mouths, and down their throats. The fleshy insides of their mouth are shredded, their esophagus reduced to long dangling strips of bloody meat. The tentacles wrap around digestive organs. With a cruel smile Jericha looks at her one time companions. She can see the horror in their eyes, as fel green flood spills out of their mouths. Mouths stretched impossibly wide, their bottom jaws dislocated, and hanging uselessly. The corners of their mouths are ripped wide, bloody chunks of muscles, and stringy pieces of flesh hang from the tears. With a pulling gesture from Jericha’s hand. The wretched Eredar find their digestive system ripped out of their mouths, and tossed up into the branches above. The spell casters try to use magic to heal themselves, but find they can speak nothing, but the sound of unrecognizable wet gurgling. A moment later they are pulled beneath the swirling surface. Where in the void they will be continuously tortured for the rest of their miserable existence.

All along the ground patches of fel blaze, and creeping void appear. Void tears appear filling the air around them, as thousands of void bolts, blast down through the sky. Ripping, and tearing, into Felguards, felstalkers, imps, wyrmtongue, gan’arg, mo’arg, none were safe from the corrupting barrage of void.

Three more demonic gates flare up around the area. From the first comes a battalion of about a dozen Felguards. Snarling, and snapping, at the air around them, are nearly twice that many fel beats. Behind them a Doomlord, flanked by two doom guards enters the battle.

Jericha casts withering gaze at one of the Doom Guards, she laughs madly as the dark shadow magic rips into it. Behind it a black hole is ripped open, before it can react, it is ripped into the void. As the rightfully named doomed demon is pulled into the black hole, singularity activates, and devastation follows in its wake. As all those weaker demons, are obliterated in the explosion of magic that follows. The Doom Lord turns and shrugs off most of the damage. Its attention is now on the void and fel weaving witch. It unleashes a ball of fel fire that strikes Jericha in the chest, and sends her flying into a group of trees. Jericha’s impacts the tree with enough force to crack a few ribs and have the air knocked from her lungs. A large circular pattern on her stomach and chest is nearly void of flesh, the underlying tissue, and muscles are scorched and burned. She shadow mends herself and opens a void portal to bring her right back into the battle. As she reappears near the Doom Lord, it pulls the blade from its back. Swinging it in a downward sweep, Jericha is forced to jump back, to avoid the full brunt of the attack. Instead just the tip of the blade slices across her abdomen. Blood splashes out across the ground, as Jericha cries out in fury and pain. She bring a void shield up around herself, as the Doom Lord pushes its attack baring down on her with a series of blows. Blows that leave her body sliced up in multiple places, she chokes up blood and smiles. Having led him into the center of her fel blaze and creeping void patches, she summons them beneath him creating her shadowfel amalgamation. The explosion of pure magic rips up from the earth, tearing up the very earth around it. Then when the air clears, the Doomlord stands there mostly a skeletal body with strips of muscles, and tendons, holding in bloodied organs that weren’t destroyed by the blast. Its wings, and thick leathery flesh, had been completely obliterated. Still it moves towards her, blindly swinging its blade, the second blast of pure chaos, wipes it from existence.

Breathing hard Jericha just begins to heal the recent damage. When she is struck in the back with blasts of fel that send her flying forward. She hears the cheer of a gan’args in the distance as they reload the fel cannons. Almost all the flesh and most of the muscle has been scorched from her body. She goes into void form and prepares to attack the wretched creatures that thought to attack her, she would make them pay. As she readies a void explosion, the last Doom Guard drives its halberd through her back and out her stomach. Twisting its blade, using its strength it lifts Jericha off the ground. Let’s see how well you deal with this you foul witch. With a mighty heave he sends Jericha into a group of felhounds. They snarl as she crashes into the ground in the center of them. Salivating jaws bite into her flesh, as long leathery whip like tentacles, with sucker like mouths latch onto her. Jericha can feel the void and fel being drained from her as more of the fel beasts clamor nearer. Their long suckered mouth latching onto her as well, drinking away at her very life force. For a moment she vanishes beneath their bodies, then suddenly she bursts up out of them, no longer is she in her elven form. She is now in full Shivarra form, and towering above the foul mutts. Screaming in fury Jericha grabs the tentacled appendages and rips them free first from her flesh and then from their bodies. She lifts one fel hound from the ground and crushes it within her arms. The second one she rips the top of its head off, the third she digs her claws into its stomach and guts it.

Jericha opens a portal and summons a group of Aranasi and succubi down to her. With the Aranasi, come an army of fel spiders. Along with them she opens a plethora of void rifts to call forth flesh beasts, abominations, and beholders. Jericha was no longer playing. It was time to end this, pathetic excuse for a takeover. Nedde would rue the day she thought to attack what belonged to Lord Salkeen. Jericha turns to the others and shouts out orders. “We will end this now, understand, subdue the ones that you can. Lord Salkeen will be more than capable of breaking them, and adding them to his army. Those that won’t be subdued kill, kill them in ways that will make others tremble in terror at the very thought of being near you.” Just as she finishes speaking three felreavers make their way out of one of the enemies portals.

[Salkeen-emerald-dream (Salkeen)]

“I came here to retrieve my sister, and apologize for her mistake. You are the one who declared war, when you forcefully took us. So don’t go spouting all that nonsense. It makes you look more like a clueless halfbreed, and less like a Demon Lord.”

Salkeen swung his hand in a backslapping motion, to which his power followed sending Yenme down again… “I merely caught two potential spies on my world, such things which could have been sorted out here, if not for such a short minded attack by your own…” Salkeen hissed at the downed women, he scorned words did nothing to help her situation save for earn his wrath…

“Pathetic, are you capable of fighting anything without it needing to be subdued?” Yenme asks her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You May think yourself powerful, but all I see before me. Is a pompous halfbreed bastard, pretending to be a Demon Lord. Striking out like an angry child at those who are unable to defend themselves or fight back. So go ahead, do what you must, you will get nothing from me.”

Salkeen was not amused but the demon lord showed no emotion as he brought his hand up and down sending the poor prisoner crashing into the ceiling then into the ground once more. “I do apologize if you think a more foolish race like humans or orcs stand before you or your experiences with past demon lords was too soft, but I don’t give a damn what you think of regular behavior for the legion…” Salkeen’s eyes flashed green slightly, “Infact I felt I was going too easy… Perhaps you’ll enjoy the methods of Gorelix instead?” Salkeen growled changing the way he was casting his dark magic now his claws were more pronounced… He dragged his claws towards his body and away from the cell causing Yenme’s very soul to feel the hooked grip of the demon lord pull and tear at it…

“I will tell you nothing of either myself, or of my home.” She looks at the wall of fel that separates her from her sister. “She will not tell you of our home either, you can torture us, break us, kill us, and we will still never tell you of our home.”

Salkeen dragged his claws across the air again pulling and tearing at Yenme’s soul in a slow unamused motion… “Foolish girl… Even if I don’t break you to show me, there are other ways to your world… By linking gateways to my own you have all but told me…” Salkeen hissed growing tired of Yenme’s disrespect…

“Do you see this Suzuna?” Yenme’s voice breaks into her silent thoughts. “Demon Lords cafe nothing for those beneath them. You will be used and tortured at his discretion. If you are lucky you will die early, before he can break you. Or perhaps your Lord will make of you, the same as our mother. With power like yours, you would probably make a wonderful addition to his breeding pens.”

Salkeen laughed cruelly, continuing his slow torture of Yenme… He knew the soul rending wouldn’t be enough to break her, this was just idle behavior for him, like a impatient general tapping his fingers on a desk with war papers…

Even with her body being destroyed, the horrendous agony, that nearly has her paralyzed, she still claws at the wall.

“My Lord, we cannot speak of our home, however I am not adverse to you torturing that knowitall witch longer.”

Salkeen noted Suzuna’s desperation to escape and go to Salkeen’s side, her submissive attitude made her much more agreeable…

“My Lord, do you understand we cannot speak of it. Yet you do not need her to speak of it, not when information you seek can be cruelly ripped from her head.”

Salkeen regarded Suzuna closer, he had expected such a thing, the similar curse of what was on Jericha for speaking of Yumara… Suzuna pressed against the wall before collapsing from the pain… Salkeen watched for a few moments before opening the physical wall of fel around Suzuna and using it to further enforce Yenme’s prison… “Those who are loyal may find I am a generous demon lord…” Salkeen hissed firing a beam of fel towards Suzuna’s downed form, it however wouldn’t burn her… Within the beam was a torrent of souls used to repair the obedient demons body…

Salkeen turned his attention back to Yenme, “Processing intruders on a owned world is no grounds for war, your invasion will be met with annihilation…” Salkeen hissed commanding a group of inquisitors to come join him in his next act…

[Yuiko-draka (Yuiko)]

stumbling his way towards Yumara… The hollow dead corpse gazed into her eyes as he shuffled closer before reaching out to touch her… “The curse hurts you and Izzabelle because of your souls… But it can’t hurt mine…” Isaik hissed… Isaik lunged forward diving his hand into her chest and temporarily connecting their souls, the ever consuming and the ever made… Isaik’s soul reaches for Yumara’s pulling at the edges before forcing ripping the spell and pulling it to itself… Isaik shuddered before pulling his arm free and gazing back at Yumara…

Yumara remained partially kneeling on the floor as waves of relentless agony crashed over her body. While it would never kill her because of her infinite soul. She would forever feel infinite pain, as long as the curse remained. Yet if she had not taken it onto herself, Izzabelle would have ceased to exist for real this time. Yumara tries to focus, but the pain is so intense. Stinging, burning, stabbing, aching, ripping, so many sensations of sheer agony, all tearing away at her soul. Yet even with her mind nearly paralyzed by the pain, Yumara can sense Masters presence, hear Masters words.

Yumara feels the pressure of Masters hand as he thrusts it into her chest. Ebony’s spell tries to grab hold of Yumara’s soul. A feast like that is not something it wishes to be ripped from. So the curse fights against Dark One, attempting to pull away from him and bury itself further into Yumara’s soul. Yet as the Dark Ones soul, and Yumara’s temporarily connect, the curse realizes that its futile so it strikes out in a last ditch effort. Tens of thousands of corrupt blades of the deepest void, are flung at Yumara’s mind. Ebony’s voice hisses into Isaik’s mind Shall we see how long it takes your little slave to recover from having her mind shredded. the words are followed by cruel, mocking laughter. The laughter become a shriek of rage as Yumara’s mind seems to vanish. The blades pass through the air where it once was, once the blades are gone it reappears.

Now that the curse has been removed from her soul, Yumara reaches out and takes hold of Masters robes. “Master.” Her voice as she speaks the word is filled with thanks, adoration, and nearly total worship. “Thank you, I hope you don’t mi d that I moved you from Salkeen’s vessel back to yours. I felt that your vessel was better suited to battle whatever surprises the Soul Thief might have.” Yumara suddenly goes quiet, and averts her gaze to the floor. “Speaking of Salkeen, it would seem he and I are still at odds with one another.” Yumara doesn’t regret what she had done in destroying one of Salkeens demonic vessels. She had chosen the one with the least life forms, present within it. “I destroyed one of his vessels in anger Master. The Dark Forest, created on Centralis, was created to balance the devastation I caused. Salkeen, and his Minions, reckless destruction of it, for no better reason than because it is mine. Hammers away at the balance it was created to uphold. My soul is tied to every inch of that forest, every creature, every leaf, every blade of grass. When they are pointlessly destroyed, My soul feels the pain.” Yumara loosens her grip on Masters robe, realizing that while she had been speaking her grip had been tightening. “Still I should have spoken with Master, before striking out at Salkeen.” Yumara finishes.

She turns and looks at Izzabelle. “Master will Izzabelle be okay?” She asks her voice tinged with a tiny bit of concern. “Please forgive me Master, if I say anything wrong.” Now that Master, and Zalak, were separated a little. A nagging feeling of familiarity buzzed in the back of Yumara’s mind. “Master I feel like I have felt, his, yours, a magic similar before.” Yumara’s eyes take a far off look, like she is paging through billions of memories. She suddenly stops and for the first time in a while Yumara looks up into Masters eyes. The eyes are the window to the mind, and soul. She needs Master to see into her mind. When he does he will see Yumara in an nearly empty room. The only notable thing in the room are Yumara herself, Jericha unconscious, and strapped down to a table. A pile of bodies, from a plethora of different creatures. Demons, Elves, Draconic, void, aberration, primal, a mashup of creatures. In the center of the room, Orion stands holding a tome. It is the Tome that Yumara focuses on, and she is sure that Master will recognize the familiarity of the tome. *Orion open the tome and begins chanting, dark magic starts to swirl around the pile of bodies. Bones break, flesh melts, soon all that remains of the pile of bodies, is nothing but bones and slime. Then the bones form into a skeleton, the slime oozes up over the skeleton. As it does muscles, organs, blood vessels, and flesh form. Red hair, nails, lips, eyes, and long pointy ears, finish the ensemble. Once the body is created Orion turns to Jericha and makes a tugging motion with his hand. As he does he pulls what resembles the remains of a tattered soul from Jericha. Flipping through the tome Orion starts chanting again, ripping from the walls around him, the souls of demons, mortals, and other sentient creatures, reform the spirit. The remade spirit is thrust into the recently created body. Yet it also, still remains connected to Jericha. Orion casts one more spell from the book, then steps away from the body. It lays curled up on the floor in The fetal position, then the fingers, and toes, begin to twitch. Soon it is pushing its upper body up off of the floor. For a second, Master would find himself looking at Izzabelle, then the entire vision vanishes. Yumara breaks eye contact and looks back down. “The Tome Orion used to save Izzabelle, feels like Master. Why would Ebony have a tome in his library that feels like Master.” Yumara wasn’t asking a question, she was more thinking out loud.

[Isaik-emerald-dream (Isaik)]

Shall we see how long it takes your little slave to recover from having her mind shredded.

Isaik needed not react he trusted his minion to protect herself without his constant assistance… It would seem your attacks on beings superior to you are rather lacking… I would give up such a impossible endeavor… Isaik hissed slightly, he could easily turn his entire attention to the destruction of Ebony, armies of sleeping agents would be ready to march in mere moments…

“Master.” Her voice as she speaks the word is filled with thanks, adoration, and nearly total worship. “Thank you, I hope you don’t mi d that I moved you from Salkeen’s vessel back to yours. I felt that your vessel was better suited to battle whatever surprises the Soul Thief might have.”

Isaik nodded, he did since only slightly, he would need to adapt to the newer addition to his soul… Its not that he wasn’t unfamiliar with the magic used, there was just much more of it now barring down upon him… But it was nothing he couldn’t handle, he had been dealing with this affliction for eons now…

“Speaking of Salkeen, it would seem he and I are still at odds with one another.”

Isaik quickly pushed down any sign of weakness how little of it there was… “I saw… Rather entertaining of you to put him in his place yet again…” Master Isaik hissed grinning slightly…

“I destroyed one of his vessels in anger Master. The Dark Forest, created on Centralis, was created to balance the devastation I caused. Salkeen, and his Minions, reckless destruction of it, for no better reason than because it is mine. Hammers away at the balance it was created to uphold. My soul is tied to every inch of that forest, every creature, every leaf, every blade of grass. When they are pointlessly destroyed, My soul feels the pain.”

Isaik nods yet again, “I see, and I see why he despises it, it reminds him of his failure… I do not wish for you to however be distracted or harmed by such a endeavor, next time we speak with the Demonlord I will set forth my commandment to leave the forest be…” Isaik spoke he had been watching the event with his extensions tendrils, he always saw what his minions did… “I only ask one thing, even as we have claimed this world… We must remain in the shadows, After this is done I will conceal your forests from the eyes of the unworthy… To the outside worlds we were never on Centralis…” Isaik warned, he had always chosen subtlety, he was the unseen ever present…

“Master will Izzabelle be okay?”

Isaik eyed Izzabelle and Sericon across the room before idly tapping his boney fingers on his chin… “Presumably… Sericon will fight to free her…” Isaik hissed, he watched them carefully seeing more than he ever let on…

“Please forgive me Master, if I say anything wrong.” Now that Master, and Zalak, were separated a little. A nagging feeling of familiarity buzzed in the back of Yumara’s mind. “Master I feel like I have felt, his, yours, a magic similar before.”

Isaik said absolutely nothing he had a peculiar feeling that he indeed knew how his essence might feel so familiar… Though Isaik himself was only a few hundred years old, Zalak was ancient his influence over many parts of the galaxy hidden but ever present…

“The Tome Orion used to save Izzabelle, feels like Master. Why would Ebony have a tome in his library that feels like Master.”

Isaik’s eyes flashed purple and blue with the vision of stars inside as he focused his gaze upon Yumara… He saw the tome, he felt Yumara’s questions… Through his connections to her mind the Great dark master showed her his past… I am the ancient and whispering shadow, the Great demon of the dark… A voice entered Yumara’s mind and spoke as if it came from all around her… A image again of the Great eredar, pale and sickly in color, but proud in stride and power… The great eredar had no nose or mouth as it strode across a different world, It’s visage was just that of burning black eyes on a blank face… A great citadel of black void metal and spikes sat floating in the depths of the darkest reaches of space! Aboard such a construct were tomes, scrolls, magics and creatures of the darkest nature… I studied the void long before the mortal races and created such works the universe had not seen before save for the creation of the old gods themselves!

The eredar lord appeared on a new world around him he could see his dreadlords commanded to his will, beyond them… Was a literal nation of other beings that blindly followed the demons to their doom! “Rejoice!” Hissed a dreadlord in disguise to the blind zealots, “We ascend to a higher state of being with this spell, we shall become one with the stars!” The zealots cheered and cried as they readied a powerful spell to shatter their own world… The great eredar, turned to walk through a great dark rift and his faithful dreadlords followed close behind him… The faithful zealots doubled their efforts channeling a powerful spell that caused the world they walked upon to buckle and quake! Around the zealots and spell castings several glowing tomes rose above the mayhem! The world buckled harder and harder until at last the planet could not sustain its form and with a massive blinding explosion the planet tore itself apart! On one of the still stable pieces of the world the dark rift opened once more, and the Eredar Lord stepped forth to inspect his success… The earth was a pale violet as Magic’s leeched the planets life away… Zalak grinned a terrible smile as he saw his plans were to fruition, the zealots were gone but echoes of their existence living shades moved around without purpose… Zalak commanded them with a swift movement and forced them to his will, they would be his slaves… Zalak glared into the skies watching the world still collapse and pieces blasted away into the eternal void of space… His tomes would now travel the universe, falling to unsuspecting worlds… His magic would taint the farthest reaches of space, but at the back of every tome was a signal, they would always call to their master…

Isaik watched Yumara closely after revealing such a thing, it want that the Master had directly helped Ebony so much as his influence was everywhere, Ebony was bound to find something of his… Isaik opened his arms, “Ask and I shall share with you everything… But now is not the time…” Isaik hissed casting his gaze on Izzabelle…

[Dazarthon-moon-guard]

Dazarthon was not pleased, the Council of the Twelve, had just recently ended, after over two weeks of debates. Now he was forced to deal with the internal issue caused by Nedde’s unjust, and unwarranted attack against Demon Lord Salkeen’s minions, on a world he had recently won as his own. The rest of the Twelve had given him sanctions to deal with this disaster, as he deemed fit. Nedde has overstepped her bounds, and had endangered the society by doing so. Dazarthon continues to move towards the house of fel, with purpose, group of Eredar Warlocks flank him. A silent figure follows, its form completely hidden beneath layers of cloth. They enter the house and move swiftly towards the portal room. Entering the room he barks out commands. “You will cease, and desist, this attack at once.” Dazarthon orders, grabbing the attention of the portal watchers. “You.” He shouts at one of the void Ethereal portal keepers. “Prepare the cleaning units, and a tribute worthy of a Demon Lord.” He turns to another of the Portal Keepers, “you, get an envoy together, I will need to travel to Centralis, and try to salvage this disaster.” Dazarthon practically snarls. The terrified Portal watcher, nearly falls over himself five times trying to get out the door. Dazarthon then turns to Nedde, the cause of this disaster.

Nedde looks up at Dazarthon and growls… “You’re going to give the monster that took my sisters a tribute.” She strikes out at him with her clawed hand. Dazarthon doesn’t even try to block the attack, he doesn’t have to. The eyes of two of the Eredar warlocks glow, and Nedde finds herself unable to move. “Release me this instant you worthless scum” She shrieks. “Do you know who I am? I’m part of the unholy trinity, you are nothing compared to me.” She continues to rant, unleashing mind blasts at the ones holding her. The spell ricochets off their shields, and right back into her own head. She drops to the floor in pain, as she does Dazarthon bends down and whispers into her ear. “Wrong move Nedde!” Then he slaps power binding shackles onto her. It is at that moment that Nedde realizes the consequences of her actions. “Lord Dazarthon Please! I spoke out of turn, I apologize.” Nedde says practically begging. Dazarthon stands, and turns away, not even looking, or acknowledging, her existence.

As he stands there waiting an Inquisitor enters, and moves up to where Nedde kneels subdued, on the floor. It pulls forth two glowing eyes from its robes. It moves close to Nedde and she can hear its sick laughter filling her head. A moment later she is screaming as memories are painfully ripped from her head. “No, no, no, please please, don’t take them from me.” She drops down sobbing and begging. Dazarthon raise a hand halting the Inquisitors attack, he keeps it up for a moment before lowering it. As he lowers it, the Inquisitor continues its assault on Nedde’s mind this time forcing her to relive some of the most painful times in her existence. She remembers, being passed from demon, to demon, *a mutt good for nothing but beating, and breeding. That one sick bastard of a Demon Lord that had taken, and destroyed her body. She remembers with clarity the agony she felt as he had his minions remove her flesh from the neck down with light blessed holy wire. The way he laughed as she screamed, until blood poured from her mouth. Dipping her into a bath of acid, and fel when he was finished, forever disfiguring her body. Her body from the neck down was nothing but a mine field of scars. Now she was once again forced to relive every one of them. Yet even that wasn’t as painful as what happened next.

Reaching down Dazarthon rips the rings from her tail, the rings that gave her the high position she had within the society had just been stripped from her. A saronite collar is locked around her neck, with a tag that simply reads mutt Nedde screams, and bawls, trying to rip the collar from her throat. “Lord Dazarthon Please Don’t Do this, sanctuary, please I need sanctuary. The Society turns none away, that is its creed” Dazarthon backhands her right across the mouth. “You dare speak of this Societies creeds, after you practically cause a war to break out, between us and the Demon Lord Salkeen.” He snarls lifting her up off the floor by her throat. “Hhhhhee… ttttt… ttttooook… mmm… mmmmyyyy… ssss… ssssssiiiiiisssstersss.” She chokes out clawing at his hand. “Your sisters invaded a world that, the demon lord had just recently claimed, had you come to me this would not be happening.” A group of succubi enter the room, Dazarthon looks at them, dropping Nedde to the floor before them. Strip her of her expensive clothing, her marks of rank, and her pride. When you are finished put her into slave clothes, and return her here to me.”

Nedde shrieks “Nooooo! You sick bastard just kill me, just freaking kill me. don’t give me to him, I would rather be dead, you have no right to do this.” Nedde continues s reaming in rage, as she does the silent cloaked figure approaches her. Dazarthon reaches down and grabs Nedde, holding her in place, as the other figure unwraps one of its hands. The pale, nearly translucent papery flesh, looks like it is barely stretched over the bones. Long scythe like nails extend from tips of rotting fingers. Shuffling closer the thing presses its pale, cold hand over Nedde’s mouth, and the lower half of her face. A second later Nedde is going into convulsions in Dazarthon’s grip, after a few moments her eyes roll up in her head, a few moments after that the cloaked figure pulls its hand away. The entire bottom half of Nedde’s face has been burns away. The flesh that remains resembling melted wax, running down her neck. The bones in her upper, and lower jaw, are mangled and fused together. “Seeing as how you cannot be trusted to speak, you will remain silent unless your new Lord Chooses to heal you.” He says to the now terrified Eredar priestess, turning to the succubi, who are now somewhat huddled together, fearing his wrath, her snaps. “Remove her from my sight and get her ready.” The succubi quickly take hold of her and flee from the room.

Dazarthon turns to one of the Watchers, See if you can establish a connection with Lord Salkeen’s Vessel.
The Felblood Orc moves to a large viewing screen and starts the sequence to establish the connection with the Command Bridge on the Ignis’avem.

[Ahcire-gurubashi (Ahcire)]

Ahcire watched as Ahcirej freed herself from her plant made prison and joined the others in combat using her expertise in fire and destruction to wreck havoc among the enemy demons lines. It wasn’t long however as more demon gateways opened and more specialized demon units poured onto the field! The crazed invaders even hoisted artillery to assault Lord Salkeen’s new hold on this world! This is when Jericha appeared on the field like a angel of death… Wherever she tread the death of Salkeen’s enemies followed…

Ahcire roller to the side as a blast of fel scorched the area she once stood upon! The artillery were clearly a threat that couldn’t be uncontained! Ahcire bolted forward calling a name to her side! “Nakano! To my side!” She cried pulling her bow back and releasing it to spear her first target one of the moarg many one of the many cannons! Ahcire was forced to roll again as another blast hit nearby spraying the area in rubble! Ahcire winced as she felt a metal fragment dig deep in her leg… She couldn’t stop however, she pulled her bow back again spearing another enemy demon… Around her the battle raged, felguards of Salkeen’s tried to form defensive lines! Swinging their weapons as one unit they loosed a wall of fel fire that rushes towards their Lords enemies!

Ahcire leapt up to fire again at another moarg, she would clear the cannons of demons when one of the enemy infernals struck her on the side! The force of the shattering blow shredding her flesh and bones and sending her crashing into a nearby pillar! The enemy artillery took advantage of such a plight and opened fired sending crashing fire upon Ahcire’s position! The poor elf clone covered her face as the wall of fire cane and struck around her burning her horridly!

With a last resounding crack the pillar she crashed against and hammered by fire collapsed dropping tons of fel steel and debris over Ahcire… She was quite literally buried alive… Ahcire moaned once trying to wake up, he legs were shattered and crushed, her left arm was pinned… Ahcire passed out from the pain and inability to escape, she knew Nakano or someone would cone for her!

[Lhashira-ravenholdt]

With a last resounding crack the pillar she crashed against and hammered by fire collapsed dropping tons of fel steel and debris over Ahcire… She was quite literally buried alive… Ahcire moaned once trying to wake up, he legs were shattered and crushed, her left arm was pinned… Ahcire passed out from the pain and inability to escape, she knew Nakano or someone would cone for her!

Lhashira brings her glaives up, just in time, to intercept, the Felguards massive two handed sword. Using the strength of the blow she flips backwards, and into the air. Beams of fel fire burst forth from her eyes. They strike the Felguard in its face and chest, burning away most of the flesh and underlying muscles. She then rushes forward striking an x pattern across its abdomen. Dumping its insides onto the fel burnt ground before it can recover. With her fel sight, she sees the attack on Ahcire. She takes to the air to help the buried woman. She can see that she isn’t the only one. Moving in her direction is also one that resembles Lord Salkeen’s void witch. Yet her Demonic attributes are much more pronounced. Seeing her move to help the good as dead girl, buried beneath the rubble. The Mo’arg commands the gan’arg to fire on Lhashira next. Using her abilities and speed she manages to dodge most of the artillery fire. Still a few strike true, fire and agony rip through her side as her left hip is nearly disintegrated by one of the blasts. Her right leg from mid thigh down, now resembles a shriveled up blackened husk. She has burns, and lacerations, covering about thirty five percent of her body.

Lhashira hovers above where the hunter of light is buried. There’s a reason she is called the wind witch. Under Lord Salkeen’s command her power had grown. Lhashira eyes glow even brighter as she summons hurricane force winds. The blasts of air, tear the rubble from the ground, freeing Ahcire from her tomb. The large stone pieces whip and spin around Lhashira forming a shield of sorts. Shoving her hands forward the stones fly at the gan’arg and the fel cannons like they had been fired from a ballista. They strike gan’arg, wyrmtongue, and a the first line of fel cannons. Most of the frontline is decimated by the blow. Gan’arg, and wyrmtongue, are torn apart by the impact. As fel cannon explode, and large chunks of stone hit the ground bursting into shards. These razor sharp shards dice and slice into all the unfortunate fools around them. Lhashira laughs at the destruction, and unleashes a bombardment of fel infused wind blades at the Mo’arg brute, as it bellows at the lesser demons to bring her down. The blades made of wind and fel carve up the brutes body, but that just barely slows it down. For something of its size it sure can move, when motivated. It rushes forward ripping a massive circular saw blade from its side. With a mighty heave he sends it flying through the air. Lhashira locks her glaives togethe, forming the large throwing star, and sends it careening toward the saw blade. The strike and the resounding bang can be heard across the battlefield. Fates not favoring her on this day, one of her glaives snap in two from the impact. The saw blade thrown of course still strikes, amputating the burnt husk of a leg. Lhashira shrieks in agony as blood pours from the stump. Still screaming she sets the tattered remains of her leg ablaze with fel flames.

She wouldn’t be able to walk until her leg was fixed. The loss of her leg caused nightmarish visions to assault her mind. Visions of this hideous misshapen monster ripping the wings and legs from her body. The agony she felt as the flesh, and muscles tore. The sound of the bone popping from the joints. Lhashira is nearly paralyzed by the sheer terror of what she is experiencing. The blood vessels in her body are bursting as thin tentacles move trough them. The tear at her mind they crush her heart. She feels helpless, there’s no hope, she is worthless, despair begins to creep in… then without warning the visions are gone and Lhashira finds herself on the ground looking up into the face of the Flame Bringer. Healing magic washes over her, turning she sees on the ground next to her an Inquisitor with it’s head nowhere in the vicinity. Ahcirej brings a shield of Hell fire as the enemy unleashes another artillery barrage at their location.

Then all hell breaks loose as the first Fel Reaver that exits the portal calls down annihilation upon the gan’arg and their artillery. A plethora of explosions rocks the very earth they are standing upon. Stepping out of the portal behind the Fel Reavers is a Pit Lord. It s bellows out for the attacking army to cease and desist all action immediately. Most throw down their weapons and hit the ground, bowing and groveling. Those that don’t quickly find themselves either dead wishing for death. “My Lord wishes to convey his deepest regrets for this most grievous of errors. He would like to give restitution, and hopes an agreement can be met, to prevent an all out war.

[Jaseiah-ravenholdt]

The enemy artillery took advantage of such a plight and opened fired sending crashing fire upon Ahcire’s position! The poor elf clone covered her face as the wall of fire cane and struck around her burning her horridly!

With a last resounding crack the pillar she crashed against and hammered by fire collapsed dropping tons of fel steel and debris over Ahcire…

Jaseiah screams in fury when she sees her Sister fall. She flies across the ground, her demonic attributes lending to her speed. Pulling her sword from its sheath she leaps at the Mo’arg that was rushing across the field at her. Jaseiah’s blade comes down and is deflected by the Mo’arg’s massive flail. She flips back and lands on her feet. Rolling away, barely avoiding the spikes as the flail whips over her head. She casts Hand of Hindrance, causing the brutish demon to stumble as it is suddenly slowed down. An enormous hammer of light appears above the Mo’arg, and crashes down onto its head. It roars in pain as holy fire washes over its body. There’s a sicken crunch, as it’s skull cracks beneath the pressure. A troop of Gan’arg sharp shooters opens fire on Jaseiah. Fel bullets rip into her body from multiple points. Chunks of flesh, muscles, and organs, burst out of holes in her shoulders, chest and back. Bits, and pieces of her arms and legs are blown away as well. Jaseiah hits the ground hard, bring a divine shield up around her.

Lhashira eyes glow even brighter as she summons hurricane force winds. The blasts of air, tear the rubble from the ground, freeing Ahcire from her tomb. The large stone pieces whip and spin around Lhashira forming a shield of sorts. Shoving her hands forward the stones fly at the gan’arg and the fel cannons like they had been fired from a ballista. They strike gan’arg, wyrmtongue, and a the first line of fel cannons. Most of the frontline is decimated by the blow. Gan’arg, and wyrmtongue, are torn apart by the impact.

Jaseiah watch’s as the first line of artillery, and the sharp shooters, are destroyed by this Demon Hunter. Not only had they been destroyed, but Ahcire had been freed of her tomb of steel, and rubble. Forgetting the Mo’arg Jaseiah turns her back to rush to her sisters aid. The Mo’arg although slowed still strikes the young half demon in the back with its massive flail. The blow lifts Jaseiah up off the ground, like an ogre snatching up a rag doll. Jaseiah chokes up mouthfuls of blood, and bile. The Mo’arg roars with laughter as he whips the flail above his misshapen head. Jaseiah pinned to the head of the flail, by the long barbed spikes and nails driven through her spine, and back. Jaseiah struggles to free herself, just as the Mo’arg slams her into the earth. Dark crimson blood filled with air bubbles pours from her mouth and onto the ground. The lower part of her spine, and rib cage are crushed. Bone splinted shred her left lung and stomach. Her guts are spattered across the ground.

The Mo’arg brings its flail up to deliver the killing blow. When it is ripped to shreds by thousands of tentacles. Jericha stands behind the bloodied remains of it, her body radiating waves of void. Swirling around her is a void rift thousand of tentacles reach out from the edges snatching up lesser demons as she moves. Aberrations pour out of the swirling black vortex, along with a massive number of void walkers. Jericha kneels down, next to her daughter, making a gesture towards Ahcire tentacles carefully wrap around her and pull her over so that she is laying besides Jaseiah. She then starts shadow mending the Damage. The area around them becomes a consuming void, to protect the three as she heals them.

Stepping out of the portal behind the Fel Reavers is a Pit Lord. It s bellows out for the attacking army to cease and desist all action immediately. Most throw down their weapons and hit the ground, bowing and groveling. Those that don’t quickly find themselves either dead wishing for death. “My Lord wishes to convey his deepest regrets for this most grievous of errors. He would like to give restitution, and hopes an agreement can be met, to prevent an all out war.

Ahcirej approachescthe Pit Lord… “You had best hope that My Lord is in a favorable mood, after the attack not only on his world, but against his blood. Ahcirej nods toward where Jericha is healing Jaseiah, and Ahcire.”

[Myrandah-dalaran]

Victur rose his finger to say something but was interrupted by Smuggs, “We might be heading to Mount Neverest next!” The gnome chirped, Victur just shrugged and went with it.

Myrandah shivers, and shakes the snow from her hair. “As long as it isn’t another frozen tundra of snow and ice, I don’t care where we go next.” She looks at Varicar, And snorts derisively. “Do you think we could lose the village idiot and the runners up, on our next wild ride through the nether?” She asks dodging to the side as a volley of fel flies at her. She lands, and rolls, staying close to the ground Myrandah cast wake of Ashes, Radiant light bursts forth from her hands, right at the wretched Fel Monk. It might not kill him but if it hit it would slow him down, and blessfully burn away that foul flesh of his. “Tell me you foul creature, how well wil the Fel answer your call, when your body has been engulfed by the light?” Myrandah asks… striking out at Varicar with a Blade of Justice. “I will free Yumara…” she slices her blade down, towards Varicar’s shoulder, and chest. Continuing her forward momentum she stabs out with holy blessed blade. “If you have Izzabelle I will free her as well.” She says a mocking smile teasing the corners of her lips. Spinning the sword she sweeps the blade in an upward arc. “You will never corrupt me, foul Monk. Your Masters like the burning Titan are destined for nothing but failure… as are you.” Lastly she strikes out at him with a judgement.

She hopes that the Undead traveler will get another portal opened soon. While she can easily boast about winning, she also knows that the opposition is extremely powerful. She can still feel the pain, and the burning, as that monster fel chi ate away at her flesh. The overwhelming agony as it was converted into undeath. She was able to reverse the damage, but she could still feel it, still remember it. As a champion of the light, she wasn’t afraid of death. She feared being made into a monster that the light couldn’t touch. Myrandah casts shield of vengeance and waits…

[Yenme-wyrmrest-accord]

Salkeen swung his hand in a backslapping motion, to which his power followed sending Yenme down again…

Yenme struck the fel steel floor hard enough to bruise most of her right side. She could feel her hip bone fracture from the impact. She spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. Hissing in pain she glares up at Salkeen.

“I merely caught two potential spies on my world, such things which could have been sorted out here, if not for such a short minded attack by your own…” Salkeen hissed at the downed women,

“You are merely an idiot,” Yenme spits out, “had we been spies, as you so nonchalantly put it. Suzuna wouldn’t have been walking around practically in the open. She sure as hell wouldn’t of healed the mind of that felblood rogue Izzabelle.“ Yenme continues hate dripping from every word. “The fact a half breed, is to stupid to see this, I find sadly doesn’t surprise me.” Yenme says before growing silent, a low growl emits from her. “How I wish I could claim that I sent this army, yet I don’t possess that kind of authority.” Anger radiates from her in rapid pulsed, at just the thought of saying this.

Salkeen was not amused but the demon lord showed no emotion as he brought his hand up and down sending the poor prisoner crashing into the ceiling then into the ground once more. “I do apologize if you think a more foolish race like humans or orcs stand before you or your experiences with past demon lords was too soft, but I don’t give a damn what you think of regular behavior for the legion…” Salkeen’s eyes flashed green slightly,

Yenme strikes the ceiling with enough force to crack her spine, splinter a few ribs, shatter her left arm and dislocate the shoulder. Skin tore as muscle, and bone shards burst through it. Leaving a large splatter of blood and gore sprayed across the ceiling. When she is slammed back
Into the floor a few of her ribs explode, completes destroying one of her lungs. She withes around trying to scream in pain but all that comes out are gasps and gurgles as blood pours from her mouth. She uses what little magic she can use to heal what she can. Pain evident in her voice she snaps at Salkeen. “If I were standing before a Human, or an Orc, I would be more respectful. Plus they wouldn’t be near…” She stops as the pain in her chest steals her breath away… “nearly as stupid. You know nothing of me… or what I have been through with past Demon Lords. So please do keep your trap shut p, you wretched wannabe.”

“Infact I felt I was going too easy… Perhaps you’ll enjoy the methods of Gorelix instead?” Salkeen growled changing the way he was casting his dark magic now his claws were more pronounced… He dragged his claws towards his body and away from the cell causing Yenme’s very soul to feel the hooked grip of the demon lord pull and tear at it…

Yenme shrieks, and squeals, in agony her body convulses on the floor, as Salkeen’s claws tend her soul. It isn’t that this pain is new to her. No she had felt this pain numerous times. She just never thought, once she had been freed, that she would feel it again… She would not beg for mercy, she had promised herself she would never beg for mercy again. Yenme screams until her voice breaks, her broken body just twists about on the floor, her eyes flickering wildly blood, saliva, dripping in rivulets from her busted up mouth.

“Foolish girl… Even if I don’t break you to show me, there are other ways to your world… By linking gateways to my own you have all but told me…” Salkeen hissed growing tired of Yenme’s disrespect…

The pain has for the moment, rendered Yenme unable to think clearly much less speak. Part of her want to grovel and beg, just so she never has to feel such a thing again. Yet she will not, she will not be weak not before the likes of them. “You seem to think it is that simple, all gates are destroyed as soon as we go through them. There is nothing for your I follow back. Your pathetic army would find nothing but a barren wasteland if they followed where my gate led.” Yenme says each word leaved with pain.

Salkeen laughed cruelly, continuing his slow torture of Yenme… He knew the soul rending wouldn’t be enough to break her, this was just idle behavior for him,

Yenme is once more reduced to a writhing mess. As Salkeen continues his torture. Yenme struggles to say something, to pronounce the correct words through the litany of anguish.

“Those who are loyal may find I am a generous demon lord…” Salkeen hissed firing a beam of fel towards Suzuna’s downed form, it however wouldn’t burn her… Within the beam was a torrent of souls used to repair the obedient demons body…

As Suzuna is healed by the torrent of souls, she drops to her knees before her Lord. “My Lord do not let Yenme speak, we were all given words. One of those words if spoken will kill her instantly, she also knows the word to speak that would mean my death as well.” Suzuna growls. “They should of stayed out of this, every part of my existence screams that I am suppose to belong to you. Yet she would see me dead to deny that.”

[Salkeen-emerald-dream (Salkeen)]

“You are merely an idiot,” Yenme spits out, “had we been spies, as you so nonchalantly put it. Suzuna wouldn’t have been walking around practically in the open. She sure as hell wouldn’t of healed the mind of that felblood rogue Izzabelle.“

Salkeen looked back at Yenme unimpressed, it was hard to be insulted when your adversary was so insignificant to you… “Idiot? As idiotic as walking onto a new world in unfamiliar territory and just hoping good will would save you?” Salkeen asked sarcastically, “It truly is a wonder you survived at all…” Salkeen hissed, he felt like thrashing her again yet such actions were becoming oh so dull…

“How I wish I could claim that I sent this army, yet I don’t possess that kind of authority.”

Salkeen signaled to a nearby minion, “It doesn’t matter who sent them, they will die for this mistake…” Salkeen locked his eyes on Yenme, “Hopefully it was worth losing them for nothing…”

“If I were standing before a Human, or an Orc, I would be more respectful. Plus they wouldn’t be near…” She stops as the pain in her chest steals her breath away… “nearly as stupid. You know nothing of me… or what I have been through with past Demon Lords. So please do keep your trap shut p, you wretched wannabe.”

Salkeen gave a dark laugh, “I’m sure those pitiful savage races wouldn’t purge you with the light because your a demon, they are clearly much more civilized…” Salkeen oozed sarcasm and mockery, “As for Demon Lords, you have not met one like me…” Salkeen said closing the physical fel barriers to move closer to Yenme, she didn’t deserve such space… He would push her cage so small she would be forced to crouch until he decided to let her rise again… At first the torture would probably seem tame, but Salkeen knew after a few thousand years it might start to feel painful…

“You seem to think it is that simple, all gates are destroyed as soon as we go through them. There is nothing for your I follow back. Your pathetic army would find nothing but a barren wasteland if they followed where my gate led.”

Salkeen grinned wickedly, “It was merely one of many ways, with time we can trace the flow of magic from its place here to its origin… How do you think Kil’jaeden found the Draenei… If you look for a specific signature it is bound to show up again eventually…” Salkeen hissed rending Yenme’s soul again to ensure she wouldn’t forget he had such control.

“My Lord do not let Yenme speak, we were all given words. One of those words if spoken will kill her instantly, she also knows the word to speak that would mean my death as well.” Suzuna growls. “They should of stayed out of this, every part of my existence screams that I am suppose to belong to you. Yet she would see me dead to deny that.”

Salkeen glanced down at his loyal new minion, the power that radiated from a demon lord was intoxicating, it was no wonder she groveled before his burning radiance… “Interesting…” Salkeen hissed low and smooth, it wasn’t the usual hiss but more like a predator exclaiming a form of happiness… “I will not give her such pleasures…” Salkeen said turning his glare back upon Yenme, “Perhaps if you had just done as she had, this might have been different!” Salkeen growled, and with a quick movement her crouched prison crushed down upon her covering her entirely… The Demon lord weaved the fel and it’s prisoner through the air before pinning Yenme to the wall! The prison of fel had covered her whole body and just now retreated back leaving Yenme in fel bound chains and a muzzle of fel energy… This would however look peaceful compared to what he would do now… With a quick motion the demon lord forced the muzzle to lance out spikes towards Yenme’s jaws and mouth, shredding her lips and crushing her teeth… Lord Salkeen yanked his hand back forcing the fel to come to his hand and tearing more flesh away from Yenme… Lord Salkeen opened the palm of his hand to reveal Yenme’s tongue… “Now you will not speak unless I will it…” Salkeen hissed causing fel flames to envelop Yenme’s tongue until it disappeared…

Salkeen pulled his hand back ready to use such soul rending Magic’s to peer into Yenme’s own and find the place he wished to purge from the universe… “My lord!” Squeaked out the voice of a wrathguard, who wisely kneeled before his master… Salkeen turned to cast his gaze on his insignificant minion, “Her homeworld is seeking communication… They wish for diplomacy!” The wrathguard roared informing his master of all he knew… Salkeen paused his claws ready, he could still rend Yenme’s soul or even turn the spell on his minion… Yet one shouldn’t kill the messengers of their own armies…

Salkeen glared behind him at the room of Inquisitors and Dreadlords… “Break her…” Salkeen growled, “Should I return to do it myself, I will ensure to break all of you as well…” Salkeen warned… The demon lord pushed past his minion and began to head towards the command bridge, he wouldn’t go alone however… Around Suzuna’s neck silently at first then with a burning blast formed a collar of metal that forced her to follow him… Salkeen knew he hardly had to do such things, but this was truly for mostly appearances… The Great Phoenix of the Legion would appear as a brutal and ruthless demon lord before this diplomat…

Reaching the bridge in a short time Salkeen gestured for Suzuna to lay near his throne as if broken by his will… Salkeen settles down into the throne that would allow him to observe the entirety of the ships workings before glaring at a Wrymtongue “Bring them up on the holograms… Let’s see if they can earn my mercy…” Salkeen hissed he was ready to make demands…

[Victur-emerald-dream]

“As long as it isn’t another frozen tundra of snow and ice, I don’t care where we go next.”

Smuggs gave a small chuckle, “Mount Neverest is cold madam! But a old friend of mine is there, it should be a good stop! If he’s ready…” Smuggs chirped he had pulled back and begun unraveling bandages… He could do so since Throggore was busy with Victur, Maleok with Vaunn, and Varicar with Myrandah! Smuggs wrapped a bandage around his left eye, it had been quite injured in the earlier fights, he might never see from it again… It didn’t matter much besides helping with some tech and bioscience, Smuggs was ready to retire! It was far to hazardous to face these creatures at every turn! Smuggs got bandages in record time because of Myrandah’s light magic helping heal but still he and her were starting to tire, where as the others were still ready to keep up the fight!

“Do you think we could lose the village idiot and the runners up, on our next wild ride through the nether?”

Victur tapped his chin slightly as his spine bent backwards at a odd angle to dodge the rogues stabbing blades… With Varicar busy dealing with Myrandah, the rogue again seemed to be putting forth less effort. Victur thought to say something, he wasn’t sure but he had a gut feeling about the deathknight Drakkari, as If nether energies were trying to hint sonething… He almost responded to Myrandah but it seemed the time had past as she was in heavy combat!

“Tell me you foul creature, how well wil the Fel answer your call, when your body has been engulfed by the light?” Myrandah asks… striking out at Varicar with a Blade of Justice. “I will free Yumara…”

Varicar grunted as a wave of light washed over him, burning his flesh and scorching his leather clothing… But that arrogant girl was cocky, far to much to deal with Varicar directly! “The fel will answer my call because I will feed it the light!” Varicar hissed tactically…

she slices her blade down, towards Varicar’s shoulder, and chest. Continuing her forward momentum she stabs out with holy blessed blade. “If you have Izzabelle I will free her as well.”

Varicar allowed himself to be hit completely, he wanted the light to lash out at him, as Myrandah stabbed him she might notice he had a horrific grin like a machine that didn’t know any other emotion… “I… Will enjoy when they send Izzabelle to retrieve you…” Varicar spit taunting Myrandah back…

Spinning the sword she sweeps the blade in an upward arc. “You will never corrupt me, foul Monk. Your Masters like the burning Titan are destined for nothing but failure… as are you.” Lastly she strikes out at him with a judgement.

Varicar laughed as the blade cut through him again… “Never corrupt you? That’s where you are wrong…” Varicar hissed a evil laugh, within every burn of the light and every cut in Varicar’s skin burned not yellow from the light but green… “My Soul is black…” Varicar hissed as he thrust his chest forward and arched his arms and back backwards! A explosion of fel erupted from his form washing over Myrandah like a pitlord’s death! The explosion temporarily blinded Victur and Smuggs as well as Vaunn… Varicar hissed his form still alive after such a blast… Now before Myrandah stood a skeletal creature bereft of all signs of what he was… Varicar glared up from his sunken hollow skull, already trying to regenerate… “Now look what your making me do… I’m gonna have to call Him…” Varicar hissed exhaling heaving breathes of fel…

Victur during the fight had seen the battle growing and the fel pooling inside Varicar… Quickly he had opened a rift behind Myrandah before the explosion and another to hijack something he needed… As the explosion rocked outwards Myrandah might feel the aching explosion of fel lightly roast her flesh but she would dodge its majority as her shield and his rift protected her… Myrandah plopped down beside Victur a little toasty looking… Victur created a small explosion of ice again as he seperated him and Throggore…

It was then time the thing he borrowed would appear a small rift opened by Maleok and Myrandah’s judgement flew forth crashing across Maleok’s face and helmet sending the titanic troll crashing to the ground! Vaunn jumped back dodging the troublesome light and shielding his face with his gauntlets made of Saronite before glaring at Victur, who mostly shrugged back he had lived hasn’t he? Maleok responded with rage, leaping to his feet causing a minor quake the Drakkari extending his arms and shot bone spikes at Vaunn with fury in his eyes, he would punish the worgen for the warlocks interference!

This is what Victur wanted, as the razor sharp bone shards came flying at Vaunn another portal opened swallowing them up before vanishing! A portal appeared near Varicar and showered him with his allies attack! The homunculi roared in rage his body still regenerating… “You Damned slave! Don’t be baited by their attacks! Crush them with raw strength!” Varicar hissed berating his ally! Varicar slammed the ground with his fist erecting a barrier of fel chi to protect him why he made a call… “Oh maker of the homunculi, Artificer…” Varicar hissed below his breath…

Maleok roared, but reluctantly still lashed out at Vaunn! The massive Drakkari swung his weapon connecting with the worgen’s side, and sending the alpha predator tumbling! Maleok would not let up! Before Vaunn landed the Drakkari was upon him swinging his mighty arms down… “I am not a slave…” The Drakkari droned too low for Varicar to hear, it looked like he was fighting his morals inside as the Drakkari’s attacks were slower and clumsier! Vaunn to dodge such attacks had no choice but to turn ethereal and try to stay away…

Victur nodded at such success he thought he saw something as he began to conjurd another portal out of here and probably to Mount Neverest…

[Izzabelle-draka (Izzabelle)]

Sericon held his hand up crying out, “Its me I’m not a illusion! I’m here to get you out!”

Izzabelle backs away her daggers still drawn. Shadow magic flows in wisps of smoke from her ebony blades. “That’s what they all claimed, trust me they said, I’m not going to hurt you. Then they cut me, the burned me, they stabbed me. I can still feel the blades puncturing my flesh, piercing organs. The heat still radiates from skin that dried,cracked, and shriveled beneath their flames.” Izzabelle still isn’t sure what to think, he’s not actually attacking her. He is instead just defending himself, still she is unsure, if she lets her guard down, and he attacks, it would destroy her. Sericon striking out to harm her was something her fragile mind couldn’t handle at the moment.

He was successful but just barely the scythe responded to his movements much more fluidly than the bulky and threatening demonic blade. Still Sericon could only barely block Izzabelle’s attacks, he refused to strike back!

Still when he tried to move closer to her, fear overtook her. Izzabelle dives towards him with a series of relentless strikes, deepening the shadows around her as she does. She doesn’t strike to kill, just to hurt, or maim a little. Still all of her blows are deflected, by the scythe that magically appears in Sericon’s hands. She is unsure of his intentions, unsure if he is real. She couldn’t let him close to her until she knew for sure, he wasn’t another of Ebony’s illusions.

Sericon was assaulted with whispers and visions during this incursion into Izzabelle’s mind… Sericon shook his head,

It was this that caused Izzabelle to pause in her assault. None of the other had done that, they had been focused solely on her. Sericon however seemed distracted, like something, or someone, was speaking to him that she couldn’t hear. She goes to to sheath her daggers, as she does this, the stone wall behind her comes to life. Where the wall once stood, there was now four stone golems. They were covered in moss, and had sharp jagged pieces of rock jutting out from nearly every inch of their bodies. The one closest to Izzabelle swings its massive fist striking her in the back. Izzabelle feels her spine crack, and a few ribs shatter as she is launched across the air, and slams into Sericon. The flesh on her back is torn, and shredded, a broken piece of rib rips through her diaphragm. It hurts to breath! Izzabelle gasps for breaths as she grabs Sericon, crying out in agony as she rolls them out of the way. Just in time to avoid the fist of another of the Golems, as it comes crashing down where they once laid. “Sericon snap out of it, I need you now!” as she speaks she sends a shuriken storm at the face, and body of one of the Golems. Chips, and chunks, of rock are torn from the golem. As it does a wet sappy like substance bursts from its open wounds, splattering on Izzabelle, and Sericon. She cries out as the afflicted flesh starts to blister, the skin becomes a rash of grotesque puss filled bubbles of them burst leaving bloody craters in her body. She expels the toxins and starts healing the damage. She turns to Sericon “I need you now!”

[Sericon-emerald-dream]

“That’s what they all claimed, trust me they said, I’m not going to hurt you. Then they cut me, the burned me, they stabbed me. I can still feel the blades puncturing my flesh, piercing organs. The heat still radiates from skin that dried,cracked, and shriveled beneath their flames.”

Sericon looked at her, he could never hurt her, he had made up his mind to protect her! He had fled a active battle with Salkeen involved… Technically not by choice, but still he couldn’t object it felt right…

Oh! But they do leave her, the pain they have caused her, the sorrow, and despair. Will you let it continue, will you remain the weak creature that is always under their thumbs. Or will you take control of both yours and Izzabelle’s future. As long as she belongs to another, she will never be yours. She will always be at their mercy, subjected to their cruelty. He fills Sericon’s mind with the image of Salkeen ripping Izzabelle’s soul from Jericha. The sound of Izzabelle begging and screaming in pain as her soul is being burned fills his head.

Sericon had started the very littlest of rebellious thinking from this voice… Would I truly control my own destiny if I followed you? Sericon was unsure he had already seen the whispering effect a few others… He just helped rescue Izzabelle from it… But still…

Do you understand boy, as long as she belongs to them, they can rip her soul from you just as they did from her. You claim you care for her, yet you would let monsters like that own her. If she must be owned, would it not be best if she was owned by one who cared. Unless you are like them, and only wish to use her for what you can gain

Finally something seemed to be getting to Sericon giving him strength as if he could hear Izzabelle calling out to him… Your just as much a monster! I saw what you were doing to her! What your doing now! Sericon began to resist and fight, with only his will left from being a warlock it was not weak!

visions of Izzabelle’s broken body being slammed into a wall covered in jagged stalagmites, and sharp metal shards, appear in Sericon’s mind. Jericha laughs mockingly as Izzabelle’s body soon resembles ground up beef with bone shards and bloodied bits of flesh clinging to it. She is no longer even recognizable, except for her eyes, lifeless eyes that accuse him of letting her down, when she needed him the most. I will give you the strength to protect her from them, all you need to do is get her to call my name.

Sericon looked up in his mind with incredible defiance in his soul! I will protect her from you!

“I need you now!”

This was the moment, Sericon’s eyed flashed open he subconsciously gripped his scythe stronger than ever and leapt to his feet! “I will always be with you!” Sericon roared charging forward through the pain, his skin burned from some sort of acid attack but he could not leave Izzabelle to fight alone! Sericon dove like a hawk down upon the first golem and with lots of optimistic hope swung his mighty scythe into its side! With a loud cracking and shucking squelch he buried the weapon deep into the golem before using all his will power to sending the golem crashing!

Sericon stood his scythe down at his side covered in slick sappy acidic goo while his body still blistered in a few areas… “You won’t be alone while I still live!” Sericon yelled before taking his scythe and swinging it over his head and sending the blade deep into the first golems head and ending its horrid life! Sericon pulled out his scythe and spun it wildly before getting ready to fight again, “You ready to get out?”

[Dazarthon-moon-guard]

Reaching the bridge in a short time Salkeen gestured for Suzuna to lay near his throne as if broken by his will… Salkeen settles down into the throne that would allow him to observe the entirety of the ships workings before glaring at a Wrymtongue “Bring them up on the holograms… Let’s see if they can earn my mercy…” Salkeen hissed he was ready to make demands…

Dazarthon stood before the large holographic monitor, waiting to see if the Demon Lord Salkeen would reply. He knew that the Demon Lord could refuse his communication, and declare war on the Society. Nedde’s actions didn’t just bring disgrace upon the Demonic, but it disgraced the Society as a whole. Still he should of separated the sister earlier. He had seen how protective the were of Suzuna. The fact Nedde sent a war party to save her, wasn’t surprising… Dazarthon’s is cut short in his reminiscing when communication with Lord Salkeen is suddenly established. “Lord Dazarthon, The Burning Lord is on the monitor.” One of the Gan’arg roKs before going back to working on one of the many other monitors all scanning thousands, of places, on dozens of worlds.

Dazarthon stands straight, his face schooled in a neutral position. Nothing betraying his thoughts as he takes in the sight before him. He had never met Lord Salkeen, only new of him through Jericha, reputation, and the way many other demons spoke of him. Dazarthon was slightly shocked at the sheer amount of power and presence this Demon Lord Salkeen, carried about him. He sat upon his throne giving Dazarthon an almost bored look, like he wasn’t actually worth his time. Like he was humoring him, by suffering his presence, even remotely aboard his vessel. Dazarthon’s eyes shift a little, and widen slightly as he takes in the sight of Suzuna laying next to Lord Salkeen’s throne. She prostrates before him like a slave, groveling at his feet. She wears a heavy iron collar around her neck, one of her hands rests against the Lords boot, trembling. When Lord Salkeen move his hand in Suzuna’s direction. She crouches away her eyes filled with terror that she might be punished. Then she starts kissing his boots while whimpering, and begging for his mercy. She looks like one who had been repeatedly tortured until she was completely broken. There would be no saving her, Dazarthon sighed, he feared that the sisters now had a new Lord. The breaking of Suzuna’s mind, and body, had caused her to view this Demon Lord Salkeen as her God. He could see that in the way she looked at him.

“Greetings all powerful, and Supreme Demon Lord Salkeen, Phoenix of The Legion. I Dazarthon leader of The Demonic sect, Pray I can make amends, for the unwarranted assault on your world, and minions.” As Dazarthon speaks he lowers his head slightly in a small show of respect. “Yet before I continue there’s things that should be known, as they can be detrimental to your prisoners.” Dazarthon says, this is something important so he hopes that Lord Salkeen hasn’t done anything quite yet “First this isn’t a Demon Society, we make up about thirteen percent of it. More now that we’ve had a sudden influx of demons seeking some form of sanctions.” He stops as he hears the sound of whispers and foot steps approaching him.

Two succubi haul an Man’ari Eredar woman between them. She is dressed in a plain white robe, and she has a mask fixed over her face. The only other things she wears is the saronite collar, and the shackles that bind her magic. The two succubi throw her on the ground at Dazarthon’s feet. The nobody The you wanted stripped, cleaned and made ready for delivery. Nedde hits the floor hard and glares at the two succubi, if she had her power, they would both be dead. She turns and sees first Lord Salkeen on the large holographic display, then she sees Suzuna. Her little sister, broken and groveling like a dog at this Demons feet. Nedde goes to surge forward, but is stopped when Dazarthon brings his foot down. She quickly finds herself pinned to the floor like a. Up on a display.

“I apologize for the interruption omnipotent one, and ask your forgiveness. Now to continue what I was saying. As you most likely know neither Suzuna, or Yenme can speak of this place.” Dazarthon says pausing to place a little more pressure on Nedde’s spine as she squirms about like a fish on a hook. “There’s more to it than just that, which they are unaware of. The Twelve are very protective of this places secrets. Enough to cast terrible curses upon those who choose to reside here. If anyone tries to extract information on this place through any means, magical, physical, spiritual, psychological, etc. Sadly it will end in the horrific death, of the one the one whom the information is trying to be pried from. I say this because many have lost their lives when the secrets of this place are sought. Everyone once they know of this place seek to find where it is. The Twelve refuse to let its location be known.” Dazarthon exclaimed distracted momentarily by communication saying that the attacking demons on Centralis had been contained. “Should you try and find out where we are by searching Yenme’s or Suzuna’s minds their brains, and hearts, will explode, sending them on a one way trip to the Nether, where they will be marked for assassination. This isn’t something that I can change or remove Supreme Lord Salkeen. As this is a matter between Demons the rest of the Twelve decided that it would be I who should deal with it.”

Dazarthon looks down on Nedde. “First I would give you the one who holds responsibility for the attack on your World and your own. This is Nedde, oldest of the three Sisters. Know that when the three are together, their powers are greatly enhanced. She however will take a bit of breaking, not as much as Yenme.” He removes his foot and reaches down and pulls her up by the hair. Nedde glares at Lord Salkeen her eyes filled with hatecand defiance. “I would also like to extend an Invitation to you Lord Salkeen to come and visit the Demonic section of our world. There’s many whom would, if given the chance join with you. This was made evident by the way many rushed to Nedde when she tried retrieving her sisters. All the demons that are on Centralis are now yours, including the pit lord, Fel Reavers and all The artillery. You may make any demands of me, as long as I’m capable of fulfilling them I will. I offer you the one responsible for the attack, all of the Demons of this society, that are currently on Centralis. An artillery of weapons, ammunition, and the Gan’arg, and Mo’arg, to keep them running correctly. I also offer you any demon that wishes to join with you.”

Dazarthon then stops and looks at Suzuna “I apologize if I speak out of turn, but please go easy on her. Suzuna was born and raised here. She has a,ways been protected by Nedde, and Yenme. Because of her mind healing powers, she has spent very little time among her own kind. She is ignorant to how things work in Demonic societies. She knows nothing of their hierarchy. She was bound to me, and I felt her vanish the moment she laid eyes on you. She was already yours you didn’t have to break her.” He says with a sigh, to see Suzuna brought so low, was a bitter sight to behold. “I am ready to hear you Demands.”

[Salkeen-emerald-dream (Salkeen)]

“Greetings all powerful, and Supreme Demon Lord Salkeen, Phoenix of The Legion. I Dazarthon leader of The Demonic sect, Pray I can make amends, for the unwarranted assault on your world, and minions.”

Salkeen glanced at the image of Dazarthon as if it was something hardly worth his time, he could easily keep this war going… “A truly monumental task considering the gravity of the crimes…” Salkeen hissed, he also showed no emotion, it was always hard to read a demon lord with a full face mask…

“Yet before I continue there’s things that should be known, as they can be detrimental to your prisoners.” Dazarthon says, this is something important so he hopes that Lord Salkeen hasn’t done anything quite yet “First this isn’t a Demon Society, we make up about thirteen percent of it. More now that we’ve had a sudden influx of demons seeking some form of sanctions.”

Salkeen deciced to humor the demons explainations of what he felt he just had to share, it had better be worth it or Salkeen felt a slight urge to see if he could force the neutral faced demon to squirm… Salkeen hadn’t shown but he saw the slight change in Dazarthon when he saw Suzuna, it meant in some way she meant something to him…

Salkeen watched unmoved as a eredar female was dragged in on Dazarthon’s side and practically placed on display, was he trying to match what Salkeen had done with Suzuna or perhaps she was something more… Salkeen already had a idea of who she was based on the ramblings of Yenme and the recognition this demoness has when she saw Suzuna…

“I apologize for the interruption omnipotent one, and ask your forgiveness. Now to continue what I was saying. As you most likely know neither Suzuna, or Yenme can speak of this place.” Dazarthon says pausing to place a little more pressure on Nedde’s spine as she squirms about like a fish on a hook. “There’s more to it than just that, which they are unaware of. The Twelve are very protective of this places secrets. Enough to cast terrible curses upon those who choose to reside here. If anyone tries to extract information on this place through any means, magical, physical, spiritual, psychological, etc. Sadly it will end in the horrific death, of the one the one whom the information is trying to be pried from. I say this because many have lost their lives when the secrets of this place are sought. Everyone once they know of this place seek to find where it is. The Twelve refuse to let its location be known.”

Salkeen tapped his claw like fingers impatiently as Dazarthon spoke of inability to reveal the location of the place he currently resided… It didn’t give Salkeen high hopes for any true meanful diplomacy between the two… “Even with such curses and charms in place I would not underestimate my resources in locating such information…” Salkeen hissed with a slight move of his right finger he signaled his own to try and trace the signal… Salkeen didn’t need the exact location he was sure his minions could atleast give a general direction of the hidden world… Salkeen also grinned inwardly, he knew if he truly desired such things he could implore his own master to break these women’s minds for the location of the society… If Salkeen was satisfied however it was likely he would let the matter go…

“Should you try and find out where we are by searching Yenme’s or Suzuna’s minds their brains, and hearts, will explode, sending them on a one way trip to the Nether, where they will be marked for assassination. This isn’t something that I can change or remove Supreme Lord Salkeen. As this is a matter between Demons the rest of the Twelve decided that it would be I who should deal with it.”

Salkeen was tempted to show his disappointment in this sad attempt at diplomacy he could envelope Suzuna in fel flames right before Dazarthon and see if his ability to do things changed… That being said for all the Twelve’s focus on secrecy they forgot that Salkeen could very well torture their souls for information!

“First I would give you the one who holds responsibility for the attack on your World and your own. This is Nedde, oldest of the three Sisters. Know that when the three are together, their powers are greatly enhanced. She however will take a bit of breaking, not as much as Yenme.”

Salkeen inclined his head to glare more at this Nedde, he felt a growing desire to see if he could make her lunge more… Perhaps sending a short jolt to her sister to cause her to call out? No… Salkeen glanced at a Felguard and sent a minor signal, the felguard left to go check on Yenme… If she had been broken he would bring her back, if not Suzuna would need to be made the example…

“I would also like to extend an Invitation to you Lord Salkeen to come and visit the Demonic section of our world. There’s many whom would, if given the chance join with you. This was made evident by the way many rushed to Nedde when she tried retrieving her sisters. All the demons that are on Centralis are now yours, including the pit lord, Fel Reavers and all The artillery. You may make any demands of me, as long as I’m capable of fulfilling them I will. I offer you the one responsible for the attack, all of the Demons of this society, that are currently on Centralis. An artillery of weapons, ammunition, and the Gan’arg, and Mo’arg, to keep them running correctly. I also offer you any demon that wishes to join with you.”

Salkeen sat back in his throne again, this was more like it, He would learn of it location atleast from seeing the world… He would take every demon on his world, they had made a choice to come, now they would stay forever…

“I apologize if I speak out of turn, but please go easy on her. Suzuna was born and raised here. She has a,ways been protected by Nedde, and Yenme. Because of her mind healing powers, she has spent very little time among her own kind. She is ignorant to how things work in Demonic societies. She knows nothing of their hierarchy. She was bound to me, and I felt her vanish the moment she laid eyes on you. She was already yours you didn’t have to break her.”

Salkeen glared at Dazarthon then Suzuna, “Quite spoken out of turn…” Salkeen hissed conjuring a ball of fel fire in his hands, before idly playing with the flames… Salkeen locked his eyes back on Dazarthon and Nedde before tossing the ball of fire towards Suzuna! The flames exploded around the eredar female consuming her image entirely in hellish fire, her screams came out from inside… Salkeen was however more clever than much would think, Suzuna sat unharmed in the center of a roiling fel storm, her screams merely a result of the brace around her neck giving her mental commands to scream…

“I am ready to hear you Demands.”

Salkeen paid no mind to the fel blaze that still burned as if it had merely consumed the eredar women… “I will go to your world, to recruit any who will come join my army…” Salkeen hissed, “After I have done such actions you will send me any demons who dare try to flee from my armies… I do not allow any demons to participate in desertion from my armies… Harboring such fugitives will greatly affect our diplomatic ties…” Salkeen hissed casting his gaze on the burning fel fire…

“My enemies are now your enemies… In order to ensure our continued positive diplomacy, it shows promise if we find hatred in the same enemies… Lest you would rather be my enemy instead?” Salkeen hissed, he was basically ensuring he always had this group to send atleast token forces in exchange for peace…

“Finally, I would be informed of any contacts you have on the planet Azeroth… I own the space around Azeroth, It would guarantee such diplomacy if I knew of the agents on that world…” Salkeen hissed, it was a claim he thought they might not understand… But when the Burning Titan was imprisoned, Salkeen’s first move had been to secure the space around Azeroth, any Legion still on Azeroth were his or rogue agents that he himself would vanquish…

Salkeen sat back in his throne once more inclining his head towards the flames of fel that started to slowly die down and extinguish… “I strongly suggest you take these terms or next time I cannot guarantee Suzuna’s saftey and continued existence…” Salkeen hissed, the flames died out revealing Suzuna quite unharmed, but perhaps a bit parched…

[Myrandah-dalaran]

Varicar laughed as the blade cut through him again… “Never corrupt you? That’s where you are wrong…” Varicar hissed a evil laugh, within every burn of the light and every cut in Varicar’s skin burned not yellow from the light but green… “My Soul is black…” Varicar hissed as he thrust his chest forward and arched his arms and back backwards! A explosion of fel erupted from his form washing over Myrandah like a pitlord’s death! The explosion temporarily blinded Victur and Smuggs as well as Vaunn… Varicar hissed his form still alive after such a blast… Now before Myrandah stood a skeletal creature bereft of all signs of what he was… Varicar glared up from his sunken hollow skull, already trying to regenerate… “Now look what your making me do… I’m gonna have to call Him…” Varicar hissed exhaling heaving breathes of fel…

Myrandah laughs, “Like I said you will never corrupt me, neither you, you wretched creature, or your Masters will ever have that much power. The light will protect me against your foul magic’s!” As she is saying this, she takes notice that the cuts on his chest are glowing a fel green. Something seems off about all of this, Myrandah isn’t sure quite what it is. Being unsure she does what’s natural, praying to the light she brings up a shield of vengeance just as Varicar explodes. Myrandah’s eyes widen in fear, as she sees the wave of fel heading towards her. The force of the blast throws her back, fel slamming into her shield. It shudders and strains beneath the attack, before shattering. Thankfully most of the attack was deflected by the shield, but what wasn’t splashed across her torso, arms and legs. The splatters of fel burned away at her armor, and flesh. Her body it pitted with fel corrupt pock marks, it burns, and stings. She is about to reply to the foul monk when…

Victur during the fight had seen the battle growing and the fel pooling inside Varicar… Quickly he had opened a rift behind Myrandah before the explosion and another to hijack something he needed… As the explosion rocked outwards Myrandah might feel the aching explosion of fel lightly roast her flesh but she would dodge its majority as her shield and his rift protected her… Myrandah plopped down beside Victur a little toasty looking… Victur created a small explosion of ice again as he seperated him and Throggore…

She goes from being thrown back by Varicar, to sitting next to Nether Walker. She would thank him after she healed the damage caused by Varicar’s attack. She casts holy shock on herself, letting the light wash over her. As it flows over her flesh, it destroys the foul corruption the fel had left behind. She looks up at the Undead, “Thank you, I don’t want to know what would have happened if you hadn’t opened the portal behind me.” She rolls to her feet, and prepares to strike out at that damned Monk while he was in such horrific shape. Yet it would seem that she wouldn’t have to.

This is what Victur wanted, as the razor sharp bone shards came flying at Vaunn another portal opened swallowing them up before vanishing! A portal appeared near Varicar and showered him with his allies attack! The homunculi roared in rage his body still regenerating… “You Damned slave! Don’t be baited by their attacks! Crush them with raw strength!” Varicar hissed berating his ally! Varicar slammed the ground with his fist erecting a barrier of fel chi to protect him why he made a call… “Oh father of the homunculi, Artificer…” Varicar hissed below his breath…

Myrandah get this horrific feeling that they will not want to be here if that foul Monks Master gets involved. She casts consecrated earth, on the ground beneath them. It will hopefully prevent the Hideous masked Orc from using stealth, to surprise them. “I’m not certain we want to be here if the one he is summoning arrives.” She says praying that he gets a portal open while they are distracted.

[Izzabelle-draka (Izzabelle)]

Sericon stood his scythe down at his side covered in slick sappy acidic goo while his body still blistered in a few areas… “You won’t be alone while I still live!” Sericon yelled before taking his scythe and swinging it over his head and sending the blade deep into the first golems head and ending its horrid life! Sericon pulled out his scythe and spun it wildly before getting ready to fight again, “You ready to get out?”

Izzabelle watches as Sericon snaps out of it and proceeds to take out two of the three remaining Stone Golems. She looks on amazed for a second as he slices into them. His fel infused scythe cutting through their enchanted stone flesh, like a hot knife through butter. Snapping out of it Izzabelle goes into a blade flurry carving and slicing away at the final Golem. With a final move she vanishes and reappears in the air above it. She drops from the sky like death splitting the Golems head and chest. She kicks off of its dying form and backflips through the air landing beside Sericon. Izzabelle turns and wraps her arms around him and presses against him. “Thank you, and I’m sorry for attacking you earlier.” She says barely above a whisper. “Yes, I’m more than ready to get out of here.” As she says this she turn and sees a group wicker brutes, and beasts, shambling towards them from behind.

The Mire terrors send a shockwave out before them, the force of it slams into Sericon, and Izzabelle, throwing them back, and stunning them momentarily. The Hexwood Sentries slam their massive fists down on the ground. The earth beneath them trembles and explodes. The blast from the shockwave that follows hits The two stunned Fel Elves, fracturing bones, and bruising muscles. The explosion of rock and earth rips flesh from their bodies as it batters and tears through their armor. Three Brambleworgs a piece leap onto Izzabelle, and Sericon. The first jumps at Izzabelle slamming into her upper thighs, and pelvis. It’s razor sharp thorned claws rip through the flesh and underlying tissue on her thighs. Blood splashed across the ground, as the second beast nails her in the chest. It’s fangs sink into her shoulder and rip a large slab of black scaly fel hide, and muscle. Snapping its head back it tears the bloody chunk of flesh, and meat from Izzabelle’s body. Izzabelle shrieks in agony as the muscle and flesh is rend from her body. Torn veins, arteries, strips of muscle, tendons, and sinew, hang from the wound like torn cobwebs.

About this time the third brambleworg strikes, knocking her off of her feet. Izzabelle bet one of her blades up just barely blocking its attack. The length of the blade presses into the twisted words mouth, as it snarls, and snaps, it long sharp fangs centimeters from Izzabelle’s face. The heat of its breath washes over her, the smell of the saliva dripping on her makes her gag. Izzabelle can feel claws slicing into her, the pain is indescribable. Another hunk of flesh, and muscle, gets ripped from her hip, and wolfed down. She can feel her arms starting to buckle beneath the pressure of the one snapping at her face. Just before her left arm buckles she drops it, then twists the dagger with her right hand. The blade sinks into the beasts maw, puncturing through the hot damp tissue, on the roof of its mouth. Sap like blood oozes down over Izzabelle’s hand and arm, as the blade sinks into its brain. It’s jagged teeth, shred her arm as she pulls her arm free of its jaw and throws it across the area. Raging from the pain, she spits half a dozen fel spiders out of her mouth they land on the monstrous worgs. They Rapidly start growing, within seconds they are the size of large dogs. Their mandibles sink into the beasts bodies, busting through their thick twisted hides, crushing bones. Fel poison seeps into them from the bites corroding, the beasts insides.

Wings rip free from Izzabelle’s back as she takes on her Aranasi form. Snapping them she launches herself off the ground and into the air. Just as one of the Shambling Ambushers leaps at her striking her in mid flight. The force of the collision knocks the air from her lungs and cracks her breast bone. Izzabelle shrieks, grappling it, she rips through her long fel claws through it back, slicing into flesh muscles and bone. Fel flames wash over her just as the Shambling beast unleashes a burst of Haunting Expulsion. They both strike the ground their forms wreathed in a halo of fel, and shadow flames. Both scream in pain, and fury, before tearing into each other. Izzabelle rips into its chest, and abdomen, with her claws while the nightmarish flames burn the flesh from her body. The smell of the beasts blood, and the wet warmth as it washes over her hands, starts to send her into a Demonic furry. Growling she pushes her hands deeper into the beasts insides. The beasts hits her with a shockwave knocking her away from itself. Then let’s out this horrific scream as Izzabelle careens through the air, and strikes the wall about fifteen yards away. Ribs break and stab through her lungs, and diaphragm. The beast looks surprised for a split second before dropping dead. A long streak thick streak of blood and gore form a connection between Izzy and the now dead Wicker Brute. It’s intestinal track, stomach, liver, spleen, hearts, lungs, etc littler the ground between them. Healing flames wash over Izzabelle as she uses her fel healing and pops her crimson vial. She turns to see how Sericon is dealing with his attackers.