Echoes of Legionfall
Elios sat at the Sirin’s vigil docks of the great radiant city of Suramar awaiting the captain who would ferry him to the cursed coasts of Broken Shore. Beside him sat Grim with a lulled out tongue watching a couple of Nightbborn younglings frolick by as they played whilst the Demon hunter kept to himself trying to ignore the strange looks he got from the city folk. He didn’t take the stares, sneers or fears personally he knew very well the Nightborn had been isolated for thousands of years. All of this was new to them, and Elios himself looked very much like the oppressors they were recently liberated from.
Slouched forward, keeping a lax posture the Demon hunter let his mind fall into a state of meditation. Not only was it a way to keep the inner demons in check but it was also a rather useful way to pass the time. Seemingly as quick as he fell into the trance he was brought back into the hustling and bustling reality that was the city of Suramar by an unfamiliar voice. His spectral gaze fixated upon a middle-aged Nightborn wearing a vibrantly colored arcane blue and purple peacoat along with a black bandana. “Hey, there chap! You alright over there?!” The nightborn was leaning rather close waving his hand in Elios’s face while Grim sniffed at the man. Seeing Elios had snapped and was now staring at him behind his demon faced faceplate the man backed up from the eerie visage “u-uh ahem. You're the one that I was supposed to meet, correct? Lady Astrande wrote to me, she said to look for horns.” He gestured to the Demon hunters folded horns with a shaky finger before awkwardly jamming his hands into the pockets of his peacoat.
“Aye, and you're the captain?” Elios asked eyeing the well-dressed man over through his spectral gaze. “Y-yes sir Captain Ferdum Nashal of the the Maiden’s Ferry! Been sailing the waterways of Suramar for two thousand years now.” The nightborn stated confidently which caused the demon hunter to question “Just the waterways? Never go anywhere else like uuuh to the shore?” Ferdum’s eyes widened “To the Broken Shore? My gods no! Only crazy people go over there...nope just stick to the waterways. Smooth sailing” Elios blinked as he asked, “You know where we are going right?” The captain would nervously fiddle with his fingers “yes I do, but you don’t say no to THEE Lady Astrande. No sir! Plus I have some gambling debts and she offered a great amount of money” He muttered the last part under his breath as Elios retorted “Right, uh let's just get on with this.” Ferdum would straighten into a more professional posture keeping his back straight and hands clasped behind his back. “Yes sir! The captain of the Maiden’s Ferry shan't disappoint!” It seems Suramar had a lack of sea captains due to thousands of years of isolation behind a barrier. Hopefully, this veteran ‘tour guide’s’ skills would be enough to reach the shore Elios thought to himself as he boarded the ship.
Surprisingly they made it to the shore with little trouble, the waters to the Broken shore were calm this night, thankfully. As they approached the shoreline the sky visibly darkened with a sickly black and green clouds whilst the subtle yet forboding rumble of thunder echoed in the air. While this was an all too familiar sight for the Demon Hunter his fist still clenched at the memories of brutal battles fought against unending hordes of the Burning Legion. He could almost hear the boom of fel cannons along with the screeching roars of the fiendish fel crazed shock troopers. Though he took pride in fulfilling his duty he knew the battle was not without its blood sweat and tears. Indeed it was a battle he hoped this world would not have to fight again.
As the ship made Landfall Elios noted the captain looking to have the nerve of a beast that knew it was to be slaughtered. “Right! We’re here yes! Mission accomplished! This is as far as I go my lad! You will put in a good word for me to Lady Astrande, right? Y-you know what never mind! I hope you enjoyed your voyage, good sir, safe travels!” The captain spoke with a heightened speed in his obvious hurry to undock his ship and get on a move on. It was clear this place scared the blood right out of his face considering how pale he was. Elios couldn’t blame the man, this place might no longer host an army of the legion but it had been a damned place before it did and likely would remain a damned place forever after.
Once Ferdum’s ship quickly departed Elios swung into Grim’s saddle mounting up ready to get a move on. It was time to get to work. As Grim began to trot up the slope of the Broken Shore Elios’s eyes would scan the perimeter checking to see for any unusual concentrations of fel magic. So far it seemed all was normal, the residual fel corruption even distributed upon the sloping coastline. However, Grim seemed to pick up on something letting Elios know with a thick rolling growl as the worg planted its claws into the ashen black dirt. Elios would follow Grim’s gaze his sight focusing to see a crimson aura a few paces away. The shape of the aura bore eight spindly appendages and a rounded body with multiple eyes with a slight tinge of fel dripping from its sharpened mandibles. Fel infused spiders, ‘skittering demons’ they were often called in the days of the war. The demonic spiders hid behind and under the sharp jutting fel slated rocks out of the sight of the mortal eyes but Grim could hear them and Elios’s spectral sight could behold them as clear as day. As the scarlet-haired demon hunter reached for his longsword attempting to draw it carefully from its scabbard the spiders seemed to take notice. The foul arachnids chittered amongst one another as if alerting one another before they quickly darted from their hiding places moving to strike with swift and cruel purpose. “Shit…” Elios spat under his breath as his wings sprouted from his back propelling him from his saddle.
The spiders were advancing quickly upon Grim their limbs moved in rapid motion before the closest of the group leaped at Grim with a screeching chitter that could have curdled one’s blood. Elios’s free hand would extend forward pointing two clawed fingers the spider’s way hitting it dead center with a blast of fel energy that shot forth like a lance of jade fire. The spider was flung rolling like a wretched chitin ball of flame and so would be another as Elios took aim and fired a second shot. A third of the wretched skittering masses of chitin and corrupted fel blood would fall to Grim’s fang and claws shortly after the large worg gnashed its teeth into its flesh jerking his head to and fro before tossing the wretched creature’s corpse unceremoniously to the side. It was then three more of the masses dropped from a hanging cliff side dangling from their webs which glowed with sickly fel ichor. Grim was quick to charge the first spider that hit the ground splattering its center with a massive paw as it leaped upon the man-sized arachnid. However, the other two were quick to spit forth a sturdy string of web ensnaring the white-haired worg in its most foul hold. Elios was quick to react though, his form rushed from the air like a bolt lighting propelled by a rush of fel magic. The Demon hunter came down like a bird prey his sword acting as the talon that would pierce into its flesh. As Elios twisted his blade delivering a coup de grace he was quickly beset by the third spider just barely able to leap out of the way with a flourishing flip. He then followed up the movement by doubling back charging into to creeping horror with a two-pronged wrist blade that would run its quarry through leaving a splattering mess of fel blooded gore upon Elios’s demon faced mask.
Quickly the Demon Hunter would do a double take still on the alert awaiting the next wave of the fiends to come his way, but none came. It seems they warded the local monsters away for now. He then turned seeing Grim still struggling in the webbing with an almost endearing whining whimper in his throat. Elios sighed with an all too familiar annoyance. “You always got caught in those, guess some things never change. Hold still.” The Demon hunter would toss his long blade towards the worg and within the same motion putting his hands up to make a series of arcane gestures that would control and direct the blade to make a clean rotating cut along the webbing. As soon as the blade boomeranged back into Elios’s grip Grim would run over to Elios giving him a lick across his masked face “ya, ya, you’re welcome…” He groaned giving the worg an annoyed yet loving scratch behind the ears. It wasn’t the first time Elios had saved the damn dogs hide, but then again Grim had saved Elios’s hide just as many times over.
Advancing up the sloping coastline Elios and Grim would behold a sea of blackened earth littered with the dilapidated ruins of crashed demonic vessels and structures that were long abandoned. All the while jagged malformed overhangs and spikes of rock seemed to decorate every corner of the island. Some even floated of their own accord in a way that seemed it should not be, in a way that showed this region was far gone to the destructive influence of the fel. It would not be a navigatable path for there were no roads on the Broken Shore, civilization would never thrive in this gods-forsaken place. This place with the visage of a strange and macabre alien wasteland had one place that drew the eye above all else. An imposing tower that dwarfed all else that lied upon the Broken Shore, only rivaled by the vaunted and magnificent Nighthold of Suramar that was once linked to it by a bridge long ago broken. Still bearing a sickly resemblance to its former design as a temple of Elune it held all the awe-inspiring aspects of ancient elven stonework. All the while decorated with great colossal statues of High priestesses of Elune bearing bowls meant to hold the sacred waters of Elune while below them stood statues of night elven priestesses holding the sacred texts of Elune and finally down the third tier lesser statues of their adherents stand below arms raised giving offerings in praise to their goddess. However, the polished stone tower was strangled by a flesh-like viny substance that glowed with the sickly green and black taint of fel. The great statues bore the corruption as well, the large gemmed eye sockets giving a eldritch glow of green, while the bowls that were to hold the sacred waters were now tainted with glowing fel bile that steadily seeped down upon the polished marble courtyard of the temple. The tomb was as Elios remembered it. A monolithic symbol of Sargras’s corrupting influence.
As Grim and Elios traversed the broken wasteland they found not much stood in their way other than the constantly uneven landscape. It seemed not even the viscious wildlife would dare venture into the battle-scarred center of the Broken shore. Slowly but surely the demon hunter and his trusted companion managed to make it to the foot of the great tomb. The winds bellowed with an eerie howl as they both looked up to the great structure. “Fuck this place…” Elios grumbled while Grim just gave a whining growl as if stating he was in accord. Swinging out of the saddle Elios would look down noting the great mass of bones that littered the ground. These were all that remained of many heroes who fought in the great army of Legionfall, families perhaps still holding out hope that they were still alive, somewhere. A skull, in particular, caught the demon hunter’s interest. One that was elven in shape but bore demonic horns as he did. Elios walked over to crouch down and pick it up holding the skull in a single hand. “Sorry brother,” the Illidari said before the air nearby began to crackle and whistle with an unnatural sound.
Looking towards the source the Demon hunter beheld a whirling mass of fel magic that seemed to spontaneously form out of thin air. Crackling further it flashed and twisted taking form before it exploded to reveal a sight the demon hunter could not believe. A massive four-legged winged behemoth of a demon now stood before him in all its malevolent and wrathful pride. It's teeth serrated and rowed as a shark’s mouth while two massive man-sized horns curved out of the sides of its head as if it were a crown anointing his brutal nature. Upon the demonic giant’s scaled reptilian torso lied a crimson chest plate held by chains while on his heavily muscled arms lied spiked pauldrons and armbands of the same color. All the while in his clawed grip he held a massive two speared glaive both its points burning with an eldritch fire that could melt flesh from bone.
The demon let out a thunderous bellowing roar along with an all too familiar battle cry “FALL TO THE LEGION’S MIGHT!” as its massive hands moved to thrust his glaive into the earth in a motion that would unleash a shockwave of fel magic sending Elios and Grim scattering back. The great demon would then charge its mass alone causing the earth beneath it to shake and rumble. Elios had dropped the skull of his former comrade now jumping into the air with both his leathery wings spread wide as his eye sockets glowed with chaotic eldritch fire through his demon mask. From his eyes would shoot forth crackling beams of fel fire that deterred the Pit Lord's charge for a time but quickly the demon pointed it’s glaive in Elios’s direction to fire forth its own blast of fel fire which the demon hunter would be forced to retreat from in a swift barreling mid-air dodge. However, Grim would keep up the offensive managing to leap high into the air and gnash his powerful jaw and sharp canines into the demon’s arm maintaining a strong grip. As the demon lord struggled to shake the worg from his arm Elios was able to swoop down and leap onto his back from behind striking with his longsword into the pit lord’s spine that was flanked by rock-like spikes on each side. “Come on you piece of filth!” Elios growled out as he unleashed a surge of destructive fel energy through his blade that caused the pit lord to howl in pained rage. The great demon was not done yet though, with its massive scaled arms spread wide its body erupted in fel flame unleashing another shock wave that sent both Grim and Elios flying back and skidding into the dirt “By Mannoroth’s blade be purged!” it wailed in its zealous rage.
As the massive demon wailed its battle cry it charged in Grim’s direction attempting to catch the worg in a massive arcing strike of his glaive but the worg was quick to leap over the tip of the blade and weave around a leg that also attempted to kick him. Elios knowing Grim would not be abler to duck and weave forever tossed his blade once more calling upon his sorcery to direct it in a cut for the pit lord’s right eye. The cut landed true causing the demon to wretch and wail out once more as it turned its massive hulking form in Elios’s direction. The Demon hunter taunted “Come on you ugly son of a bitch! I'll send you to Mannoroth myself!”. The pit lord roared as it charged the Demon Hunter in a tunnel-visioned rage however Elios’s leaped in the air twisting and morphing into a winged red-skinned demon with the height of two men. The demon formed hunter made a mid-air swooping charge for the Pit Lord’s blindspot managing to strike his long sword into the top of his skull while his two-pronged wrist blade struck into his gizzard throat. He then ripped the implements of war from his quarry and finished it with an annihilating powerful strike of his long sword that took the demon’s head from its shoulders.
Though Elios was already in the middle of making a retreat expecting the pit lord’s body to explode in a fiery storm of fel flame a most peculiar thing happened. The pit lord’s body seemed to fade out of existence with a faint echo of the pit lord’s wailing battle cry following. As if the creature never existed, it was gone, but the demon hunter knew he did not imagine that nay, he knew what he saw. Attempting to understand what just happened the demon hunter focused his spectral sight and upon doing so he picked up upon a trail of fel magic moving into the temple that seemed to start from where the pit lord had fallen. Someone or something was in that temple and it was linked to the aberration that Grim and Elios just faced. This was indeed worthy of report to the Magistrix. Though he would have liked to go into the temple himself and investigate, only fool would enter the tomb of Sargras alone.
The Demon hunter’s thoughts would be interrupted by Grim who was nudging him with his nose as if wondering what was next. With a sigh, Elios looked back to the cursed tomb whilst brandishing his longsword over his shoulder “We’re done here Grim. Let's take care of our other contracts and head back.” The worg grunted and lightly barked in what could be construed as agreement before the two turned their backs upon the Tomb of Sargras which would loom over them for the remainder of their departure.
@seilune @roewyn