(Not so) Dearly Departed
Journal Entry - 5471; Ammaelin's Arrival
The Operation had started off well enough. Skormosh, Nepenth, Varethuun, Ryo, Nezzok, and Runeva. Squad didn't fit given their strengths and abilities. These people stood up and over the common rank and file, not just by a head's height either. Each of them was a mountain amongst molehills, capable of downing dozens of people on their own if not far more. So the decimation of my Brothers forces was meant to be a cake walk, putting it into simplistic terms. What we expected and what we got was anything but. A trap, the best I can put it. I had assumed we were the one setting the ambush, but looking back at the accounts, I can only assume Ammaelin knew we would move and put his forces out as bait. He sacrificed them and it paid off. The Sanctum showed up and began to summarily dispose of those who'd gathered and amongst the fighting, a priest managed to send off a signal and in his usual gallant fashion, came riding in on his proto-drake, and slammed into my people like some sort of holy meteor, immediately putting their actions to rest.
I watched them through the Sanguine, curious to see if they could handle his machismo only to discover that every effort, aside from the few lucky strikes that managed to get past his defenses, did absolutely nothing. Magical in nature, surely. I need to find out -why- his fortitude has grown so strong over the years. When he interfered on behest of that god damned goblin and his half-breed wife, he didn't boast this sort of strength... Something has changed. I grow distracted though with my thoughts, as this entry is meant to be one to categorize events over hypothesization. When it became apparent those within the Sanctum weren't going to be able to handle them, I decided to insert myself into the ordeal, only to be summarily removed from play before I could even properly assimilate from my transference. Ammaelin's hammer, a relic similar to my Scythe I feel, was crafted with Holy Blessings during its creation and imbued with magical crystals containing the Light. A fearsome tool made to take people like me and mine off the board and it did its job well. As the goblins like to put it, he 'knocked me into next week'. Before I could hit another surface a portal opened behind him, taking me off to some remote part of the Arathi Highlands.
A trap within a trap and we'd all walked right into it. Another failure on my part, starting to mount and it grows so very tiring, especially when the Sanctum looks to me for answers. Still, this was unexpected as my Father waited for me on the other side and it became all the clearer. He had orchestrated all of this. Ammaelin's rise to and of power, the ambush of my people, and inevitably the bait I took that put me to stand before him. The old man was near as I remembered him. Well, save for the parlor of his grey, undead skin, and the crimson color of his eyes. He was no longer living, that much I could divine, and before words could be set, he was upon me. He moved with a speed I could scarcely reconcile. I'd never seen Undead move in such a fashion, especially magical ones. It was as if he'd taken on teachings of Pandaren Monks and Demon Hunters to mix with his own magical acquirements over the years. If this did not worry me, I would be eager with curiosity, ravenous with it like Varethuun, if I did not know what it could spell for me. It took everything I had to keep him back and worse still, as I felt Nezzok's connection across the Sanguine fade as he was captured, I faltered, distracted. Krownos made his move, set upon me in a grapple, declaring how easy it'd be for him to take Ammaelin once I had been consumed. I could see it in his eyes. We were all but tools to fuel his fire, a hunger I could relate to well, but... fate has a way of taking things into control when one least expects it. By all accounts, I should not be here to write this, I should have been absorbed but Krownos' arm burst into fel flame and moved of its own accord. It turned on him, grabbed at his face and neck, throttling him to the point it burned his undead flesh. His body revolted and it's in this instant I could feel Sanelastus within him. His spirit, soul, whatever remained, was fighting to keep him from obtaining me, condemning me to the same fate he had suffered.
Sanelastus saved me, but to what end, I do not know for the conflict was enough that Krownos howled with an unkempt rage and retreated, feuding with himself. Sanelastus bought me time...
I will not, cannot, let it go to waste. Ammaelin's boost in power must be discovered and finding out what happened with my Father and why may prove critical to my and my Sanctum's very survival. Nezzok has been captured, held prisoner at my brother's estate, kept under lock, key, and holy power to contain his undead form. Ryo gathers a scouting party to discern more information and soon Zalilirah and I will put to task a two-pronged effort to at least try to handicap my Brother, to bring him to a more manageable level. I feel that if we can navigate properly and remove him from the board before my father decides to simply absorb him instead of using him like a pawn, we may find a way to actually take Krownos down as well.
( The above events are an IC recollection, a journal entry by Dinthoqaf, to help relate a portion of what occurred when he'd been removed from the event to keep him from aiding his own people. )
