Tales of Felfáádaern Darkterror

Felfáádaern Darkterror

Fyros Farscribe grew up in Shala’nir, playing under the roots and branches of the world tree Shaladrassil. He was a talented lad with a penchant for tidiness, and when he was old enough to apprentice he was retained by Lord Ravencrest to serve as a scribe for his new mage prodigy Illidan Stormrage. Illidan soon observed that young Fyros had a gift for the arcane as well, and began mentoring him in the art of enchanting. Young Fyros idolized Illidan and basked in being his servant.

When the Burning Legion first invaded Azeroth, everyone assumed it would be good sport and easy victory because the Kaldorei empire was invincible. No one understood why the Queen made no appearance, but in her absence Lord Ravencrest took command. Soon the severity of their plight became apparent: for every victory they suffered two defeats, and the demons just kept coming. Still Kur’talos Ravencrest was a brilliant tactician, and the Legion was forced to commit more and more forces to putting down his resistance.

As the demons moved through Val’sharah, refugees fled to Black Rook Hold. Young Fyros waited anxiously for his family to arrive, growing more distraught as those arriving became more ragged. Many were wounded and told of horrors they’d escaped. Finally some sentinels arrived with a group they’d rescued out on the road, fighting their way to the gates swung open just long enough for them to enter. Fryos saw his father! His father asked him to look after his little sister before accepting the polearm he was handed and taking his place among the able-bodied. His sister looked dazed, and when he asked about mother she just pointed to the felbats circling overhead. She never spoke that day, or any day after.

Fyros got his sister safely to the catacombs where those most vulnerable were being protected, but lied to the guards saying he was needed above by the Moonguard. He wanted to find his father, to help in some way, but didn’t know how. He ended up watching from the shadows as the walls were overrun and demons flooded the castle. All seemed lost, until Illidan sacrificed the men under him, empowering himself to destroy the demons in droves. Sacrificing still more of them, he was able to defeat the demon’s commander. Fyros’s father died on the walls that day, but thanks to Illidan, he and his sister survived. He watched in horror when Illidan was vilified for his efforts. Fyros learned something important that day: being a hero isn’t about speeches, popularity, or glory; being a hero is about doing what is necessary.

Illidan left after that, and Fyros wanted to go with him, but he was young with no combat training so was left behind. Besides, he had his sister to care for. He went back to his work as scribe, until one day he was asked to tidy up some papers left by Lord Ravencrest’s daughter. She had disappeared, and her things could not be left scattered. As he looked for drawers and shelves to put things away, he found a hidden compartment with her diary. In it, she explained her conviction that Illidan was right and her intention to find and follow him. Illidan and Illyana were both eventually caught and imprisoned, but Fyros never forgot. He worked away as the quiet tidy scribe and gifted enchanter, earning enough gold to see his sister would be cared for. And he learned the way of the glaive, so that he too would be prepared to do what was necessary.

When the Legion returned and Tyrande freed Illidan, Fyros found him in Felwood. There Illidan explained what he had learned, that defeating the waves of Legion invasions was useless unless they found a way to stop them at their source. When Illidan left for Outland, Fyros followed.

Finding his way to Outland was not easy. Illidan made it something of a test, to weed out those ill-suited for his needs. Fyros had never heard of Black Temple, and was left only with a single clue to begin his journey:
“Search beneath the Maw of the Void.”
Those next few months required him to delve into an underworld beyond any of his previous life experience, meeting shady characters along unseen paths.

Asking locals about the Maw of the Void led him to an archaeologist in Ashenvale, who directed him to a whirlpool left by the Sundering among ruins on Darkshore. Fyros found it and searched for tunnels to go below. He searched the ruins, thinking perhaps to find some long-buried stairs. When all his searches turned up nothing, he stared at the Maw itself. That water had to be going somewhere. He weighed his options: go home? or leap into the unknown? Surely Illidan intended for at least some to survive this test. Bracing himself, Fyros took a deep breath and dove for the center of the maelstrom.

Once in the current there was no turning back. Hurled along at a tremendous pace, Fyros was buffeted against the rocks and nearly lost consciousness before plunging into an underground lake. There, in that underground cavern, waited an eyeless elf who introduced himself as Telarius Voidstrider. He then raised a pair of fiery warglaives and assumed the ready position. Soaked, bruised, and bleeding from several scrapes, Fyros raised his own and the duel began. After satisfying Telarius he knew what he was doing, Fyros was given directions to the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands.

Finding the portal apparently closed and closely guarded, Fyros traded his services as scribe and enchanter for a bunk in Nethergarde Keep. It quickly became apparent that none of the resident scholars had any patience for discussing ways to open or pass through the Dark Portal, but sharing beers with the guards turned up the name Kassim Sharim, a blood mage rumored to be living in a cave outside the keep. Kassim in turn introduced him to the demon hunter Loramus Thalipedes. Each took advantages of his services, but these mostly involved hunting demons who survived on this side of the portal. This was what Fyros was here for, and he thrived on each assignment. Finally, Kassim & Loramus agreed he was ready. They taught him a ritual using charred fragments of the portal along with fel blood to open his own wee passage to Outland.

It was in Outland, at Black Temple, that Fyros officially became Illidari. When his turn came, he was pitted against a wild felbat that towered over him. The bat leaped into the air and returned in a dive, eyeing Fyros as a tasty morsel. Fyros dove and rolled and sliced the bat open from underneath. As it bled out he knew what must come next. The chaos of demonic blood was anathema to Fyros, but this was… necessary. Cutting out the still-beating heart, he lifted it above his face and poured until his mouth ran over. Swallowing it all, he roared savagely “I am Felfáádaern!” (literally: I am the nemesis of all that is fel!). Then he began eating.

As he recovered over the next few days, it was Fel’s obsessive neatness - his compulsion for control - that allowed him to master the chaos within faster than most of the other experiments. When he felt the urge to kill everyone around him, he smiled at them instead. He spent a lot of time sitting alone in the shadows. During drills, he would disappear early only to leap from those shadows in opportune moments. It was after one of these drills that the trainer Theros dubbed him ‘Darkterror’ . Illidan chuckled and the nickname stuck.

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