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in hellfire you are born and hellfire is what you’ll become. there’s beauty and there’s pain, and there’s those who are proficient in juggling them both — they call themself whisperers of flame, of passion that scorches and burns, preaching a gospel that makes people forget the agony of burning to the bone.

even the most proficient casters of teleporting magicks knows that when weaving a spell that is meant to transport one beyond the veil, it often means that temporal magicks will come into play. it’s only reasonable, some would say, since crossing the expanse of the stars is no small feat. millions of light years traversed in a matter of seconds will have to tear at the fine lines that makes up the vine of time — and traverse them he did, all in the name of a master who relishes in destruction, not of keeping up with promises, of making the best of them in their prime.

by the time kael’thas realizes the deep trouble he has ported himself into it’s already too late. the small force he brought with him, a handful of mages and sturdy warriors to keep the portal leading back to the outlands safe open, were already close to gone, with only a single warrior with a cracked shield and a pair of casters, twins by the looks of them ( last he saw, at least, before they were swept away by a tide of demon - spawn ), staying miraculously alive.

with the unwelcome greeting he earned at arrival ( rabid, ravishing in the way the demons snapped at his throat, at fingers with flames licking by the tips ) it’s somehow surprising to see someone, anyone even mildly capable of fighting back the horde on the other side.

kael’thas is not proud to admit it but he’s positively clinging to the side of the taller man. with only a few feet separating them it makes the usually proud prince look meek, even if the fire in his veins has never burned brighter. he has seen the works of gnomes, of goblin technology ready to explode, and yet the gear of the man is somehow ... greater. futuristic, almost. welcome to the future, indeed.

“ —my companions fled to the east, ” he finishes his tale, gesturing with a flick of his wrist at the given direction, glad for the small reprieve they’ve earned from the wrath of a thousand hungry souls, “ and yet i must know, my savior, ” it’s a little sarcastic in the delivery and yet it’s the closests that the pride in his heart will allow to a ‘ thank you for your aid ’, “ what now ? ”

@doomsaws / sc.

#doomsaws #inchar. › thread.#feel free to not like. write as much JKVNDJKVD i just wanted 2 like #Explain i guess !!!!#set the setting