Dark Summonings
They flew high above Icecrown, Arrens upon his Nether Ray, a token symbol from bygone days of work done for the Skyguard, and Aely upon her drake. They looked down at the fields below, the lumbering undead shuffling mindlessly upon the snow and plague-covered fields. The University was in need of Lichbloom, the upper-level alchemy students working on their master’s degrees in an attempt to create a potion that would either slow down or outright reverse the effects of the plague. Arrens laughed inwardly at the thought, certain that every school on Azeroth had students attempt the same effort every year, all with unsuccessful results. He shrugged the thought away as Aely pointed below them, a patch of Lichbloom growing in the snowy hills south of the Argent Tournament grounds.
They landed, the cold wind from riding high now softened as they tethered their mounts. “Wonderful eyes, my love. I’d not seen it from that far up. And we should be safe from the undead down below.” They watched as the undead shambled around their necromantic masters. Both shuddering, they turned their backs and quietly began the task of pulling the Lichbloom from the ground, careful to keep the roots in tact as that was the piece of the plant most in need by the students.
They gathered a dozen specimens, their hands stinging from digging in the frozen ground, faces red from the howling wind. They had to shout at one another over the wind to be heard. Picking a particularly fine looking plant, Arrens tried to get Aely’s attention. Her face looked intent as she drew sword and shield. Turning quickly to look, he saw no less than three dozen shadow cultists marching up the hill, skeletal minions in their wake. Forgetting the plant, he stood quickly and ran to her. He shouted over the howling wind, “Stay back, my love. Their shadow magic should be easily dealt with.” Murmuring words in demonic, Shaaroon, Arrens’ felguard, appeared beside him in a ready stance, the demon’s large axe an imposing sight.
Without a word, the cultists attacked.
****
“But, Master Bittertongue, I did everything as you suggested! I gave her the ear rings–”
“How’d she like ‘em, squire?”
“Oh Sshhee adores them. Sshhee said that they were a tad too dark–”
“Darker Cardinal rubies indicate better quality,” Bricu said.
“But my Mary thinks that the lighter ones sshheow off her eyes better.”
Bricu pulled the reins of his charger to a halt.
“She’s serious.”
“I’m afraid so.” Whistler said soberly. ”But the earrings are the least of my worries.”
“Right, right.” Bricu said. He focused on the icy road ahead, ignoring Whistlers continuous prattle. ”Tell me what’s on yer mind then.”
“Well, per Sir Balthasar’s advice, I have, um…”
“Aye.” Bricu said.
“Well I have prayed at the temple frequently.”
Bricu bit his lower lip and nodded again.
“And while sshhee said sshhee enjoyed it, I’m not sure I am doing this right.”
“Not sure yer doin’ what right?”
“Praying, Mater Bittertongue.”
“Just get on yer knees an’ say what yeh need t’say.”
“That’s not exactly what I mean, master Bittertongue.”
“Oi, yeh gave her presents, right?”
“Yes sir.”
“Yeh said yeh loved her, right?”
“In a proper chivalrous fashion, yes.”
“Have yeh tried a wee less than proper.”
“I did say I was following Sir Balthasar’s advice.”
Bricu looked over his shoulder and met Whistler’s gaze. “Uther’s balls squire.”
“Master Bittertongue!”
Bricu ignored Whistler’s outrage, “One thing. If yeh worry too much, yer prayers end too quick. Got it?”
Whistler nodded slowly.
“If yeh have ta, think o’yer favorite prayers. Alright?”
“But Master Bittertongue…”
“Oi, I’m a father an’ a Holy Man. An’ I’m the one that keeps yer missus in affordable, yet beautiful, jewelery. I do know a wee bit ’bout this. Yeh have my blessing.”
“I see…but what…”
“Earthroot tea. Just have yer Mary drink Earthroot tea until yeh’re ready for ‘em.”
”But that wasn’t…”
“Aye, Earthroot tea. Bitter, but, yeh won’t have t’drink it.” Bricu said, interrupting “Oi, what’s that?” Bricu pointed off towards the horizon.
Whistler brought up a had to shield his eyes from the glare off the snow. ”Fighting.”
Bricu started to grind his teeth. ”Squire, can yeh see the bloody tabards?”
“One is black and red. The other…”
Bricu spurred his charger on, yelling for Whistler to follow.
****
Arrens cast bolts of shadow where he could, their damaging properties halting Arthas’ minions where they stood in many circumstances. His whispered words of demonic went unheard over the howling wind, yet the curses he placed upon the cultists did not need to be heard. The shadow magic festered deep within them slowing them at first before forcing them to crumple over in a heap from the pain inflicted.
He felt Aely’s spells cast upon him, the warming Light healing the spells the cultists cast in return. Despite the healing done to him, he could feel his strength waning. The spells cast consumed an enormous amount of energy and, gods, there were still so many left. Pangs of despair crept into his mind, not for himself, but for the woman he loved, standing behind him. Whatever happened, he had to ensure she was able to make it safely away.
As Arrens steeled himself for another wave of attacks, he saw two riders in the distance and immediately recognized the tabard of the black and red, Bricu Bittertongue’s short cropped red hair a familiar sight. Working his way from the rear, he hacked and slashed at undead minions making his way to Arrens and Aely.
Arrens whistled sharply to grab Bricu’s attention. “We must pull back. We’re outnumbered. Go to Aely. Pull her to safety by any means. Go!”
“Yeh sure yeh know what yer doin’ Professor?” Bricu shouted back
“I’ll hold them back and escape as I can. Just get her out of here, now!” Bricu kicked his charger and raced towards Aely as Arrens placed himself between the encroaching forces. He could feel her Light upon him now, hear her softly chanting the prayers of her order to protect him. Shaaroon continued to hack and slash his way from the rear, the felguard’s axe slaying the undead one by one. The creatures, perhaps understanding the attack from behind or perhaps under orders from the cultists attacked Shaaroon as one, the demon’s essence disappearing into the Nether. Arrens felt himself weaken. He spared one final look behind him, the red haired beauty behind him glistening with sweat. Quietly, he whispered, “Forgive me, my love.” Speaking a word in demonic, he saw as Aely’s glow became a little darker, their souls now linked by more than love.
Turning to face the foes before him, he shifted, large, shadowy wings spreading from his back. A rune, his rune, appeared upon his forehead. Words not of his world uttered gutturally from his throat as an aura of fire surrounded his body, catching the undead in a hideous display of burning magic. Several of the cultists had escaped in the calamity, the wretched smell of burning flesh the only remnants of the fight that had remained.
Arrens turned around to look. Aely was on the back of Bricu’s mount, her skin still a mixture of Light and Shadow. Still in his demonic form, he relaxed for a moment, waiting for the opportunity to shift back. Suddenly, his back stiffened and then bent backwards at an unnatural angle. A silent scream emanated from his throat, the rune on his forehead flashing briefly before flickering to near nothingness.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
*****
Whatever Arrens had done wasn’t immediately noticeable to Aely – his presence there, albeit in shadow form, was enough to overwhelm the subtle magic between them. His sudden disappearance, however, made the connection painfully obvious; she gasped for breath, as though she’d fallen hard and had the wind knocked out of her chest. Still, she fought against him, trying to get down off of the moving horse.
Bricu felt her struggling to free herself. ”I’m sorry lass,” he said and secured his armhold around her waist.
“No! No he… Arrens… Bricu, please…” She clawed at his armor, still trying to catch her breath.
Bricu kept riding.
As soon as they got back to the forward camp, she took off again back the way they had come, ignoring his shouts of protest behind her. The battlefield was littered with bits of charred bone and gore. And /just/ bits of bone and gore. Arrens was nowhere to be found, and there was no trace of him there – not even footprints.
A sudden surge of energy and faint shadows crept through her vision. She heard her name, as if from deep within her chest – and a scream – and then it was gone, and there was only falling snow and the smell of burned flesh. She shook her head, looking again at the destruction around her.
Something akin to desperation took hold, and she took off riding again, breakneck – headed for the only place she could imagine going.
Hillsbrad.
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Get to the Choppa!
Call in the Cavalry
Make It Count
The Plagueworks (10 player)
The Crimson Hall (10 player)
*evil grin*
This is, as I’ve mentioned several times, brilliant. And I can’t wait to see/work on the rest of it.
Eek! O.O
O.O Nooooo! Wha, what happened to Arrens!? Augh, I hate cliff hangers. I hope the next installment comes quick. You people are such teases, and great at it!
[...] can read Into the Nether part 2 (which is new this morning, and should be read before you read this bit – go read it first!) [...]
[...] continuation of an ongoing story between Aely and Arrens called Dark Summonings. You should read Into the Nether part 2, Hillsbrad, [...]
[...] Dark Summonings [...]