Unsettling News
He lifts his hands up in front of him, a deep stern expression spread across his face. Fire dances upon his fingers growing in intensity as his green eyes flicker in the flames. With an aggressive push, the fireball is launched at the undead crawling below, igniting the rotted flesh in a torrent of fire. He smirks for a second at his victory, but it is immediately wiped when he looks out into the distance. By the Sunwell. Before he even has a chance to react, the undead are pouring onto Quel'danas. Ran'thas looks upon the faces of the magisters around him, the expressions grim as they watch the monstrosities slam onto the shore. He looks to his left at the beautiful magistrix at his side, her golden hair tossing in the breeze as her intense eyes look upon the Scourge onslaught. Ran'thas runs his hand along her cheek, knocking her out of her trance for just a moment. He looks to her with a warm and caring expression, temporarily ignoring the fast-approaching army. "I love you." Arturia smiles at him through tear-filled eyes. A shout from further down the wall shatters the tender moment, indicating that the Scourge have finally penetrated the defenses. The arcane energies of the casters make the very air around them heavy with magic as they desperately try to protect their most sacred of locales - the Sunwell. The Scourge finally beset upon the magisters in a climactic clash of magic and necromancy. Undead calamities are torn apart with corpse-shattering spellwork while weary casters are thrown about like play things. Ran'thas growls through gritted teeth as he launches spell after spell at the massive army, hoping desperately to make a dent in their forces. Weariness begins to set in, the magical spells testing every fiber of his abilities. He spins around to avoid the glowing runeblade of an undead soldier. Ran'thas whips up his hands in an attempt to call upon the arcane, blasting the undead creature directly in the face. It crumples in a howl of pain, allowing Ran'thas to see Arturia fighting just beyond him. It almost appeared she was dancing from target to target, her finesse and mastery with the arcane such an elegant display of magical prowess. Ran'thas is slapped back into the fray as another undead nearly slices through his torso, missing by mere inches with his glowing blade of death. Another gesture of his hands sends a powerful bolt of flame into the chest of his quarry. A scream penetrates Ran'thas' ears, but not from the undead now laying at his feet. He turns around, hands already in the air prepared for an attack. His eyes find Arturia once again, her golden hair whipping around wildly with her movements now dropping motionless upon her shoulders. Ran'thas move his eyes down with horror, finding a runeblade shoved through her chest and out through her back. For a moment, time seems suspended as Ran'thas views the terrible scene. Arturia opens her eyes slowly, looking back to Ran'thas with a terrified and pleading expression of sadness as the runeblade is pulled up through her body and out of her head in a torrent of gore.
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Ran'thas bolts upright in his ornate bed, drenched in sweat. He looks over to the glowing communicator on his nightstand. "Master Runeweaver," a muffled voice squeaks through. "Master Runeweaver, are you there?" The magister sighs heavily, running an open hand over his face before leaning over to the small table to take hold of the communicator. "Yes, yes. What in Azeroth could you possibly want at this hour?" The communicator in-hand crackles again, "It's Master Ronaestrider. He...he's a-alive." The lavish bedroom is illuminated with the heated intensity of Ran'thas' glowing green eyes. His mind immediately darts to a hundred different thoughts, his calculating nature trying to deduce the most logical explanation. After a long moment, the communicator hums again, "My l-lord?" Ran'thas immediately snaps back to reality, the stuttering assistant intruding upon his self-inflicted meditation. "Come quickly, I will pour some wine," he says nonchalantly, pushing himself to the edge of the bed and placing his feet upon the carpeted floor. "Be prepared to tell me everything."