Where the Sun Misled

[erender]

Ignored... and forgotten... by every single one of them... -every- one of them... Just... just a memory now...

A slight sigh, masked almost completely by the howling winds blowing swiftly on the ocean-side cliff, escapes the elf as he begins to experience feelings of nostalgia.

But why is this such a surprise to me... after all, it can't completely be their faults for not wanting to be immersed in the life of some bastard child... who has yet to find his way in this world...

The elf's eyelids slowly rose, revealing two amber orbs, that shone like a couple candles (burning) in a traveler's lantern as he hopelessly searches for the path through a roadless forest. He reached into his leather apparel, lined and decorated professionally with verdant adornments, and pulled from them a simple yet unique dagger - sheathed perfectly (some may even say beautifully) in a worn, slightly faded, pocket of smooth leather.
Slowly, it was pulled free from it's tomb by a controlled hand, the puppet master's face partially being reflected in the blade that, when completely emerged from it's prison, shone quite like the elf's eyes in the late evening. How different this blade was, as it didn't reflect any other blacksmith's work - being that it was simple and symmetrical, rather than the present day blades with a completely dream-like design surfaced upon their elaborate and alien metalwork.

Perhaps I can guarantee that... they will never have to be burdened by this lost child... ever again...

The Elf stared deep into the blade, and even deeper into his own dimly lit eyes for the next few moments.

No...

He sheathed the dagger, concealed it back in his robe, and emerged from his kneeling position near the cliff, striding a few paces forward to the precipice of the land. The flow winds picking up his cloak and forcing it to toss and turn as this seemingly endless stream continued on to the north - his hair being a bit more creative as it danced in strands upon this torrent breeze.
As he peered over the edge, he was nominated the audience as he viewed the oh-so-serene looking waters crash upon the rocks below, a symphony of musicians giving a thundering ambiance to the brutality of countless waves pelting the side of the cliff - dragging back sandy prisoners when they receded back to their sanctuary.

...There is... a more efficient way...

The elf glanced over to the right at his cloak thrashing about in the wind - it's efforts at escape futile while the fine silver chain was still fastened around the warden's chest. Raising both his hands to the chain, he casually broke the bond, and set the innocent prisoner, that was only kept around to serve selfish desires, free - the green attire quickly falling in line with the wind and soon flowing gently upon it's caring arms.

I shall no longer hold you back from your true desires...

At this, the amber eyes turned back to the eternal battle below, then slowly being raised to the barely visible horizon that slept soundly in the distance. The sides of his lips curled up slightly into a faint smile as he remained transfixed upon this canvas - with both the flow of the ethereal stream above and the clashing of forces in the eternal battle below providing a cooperative piece to this scene.
With this final picture of what Azeroth could offer him in his head, he slowly closed his eyes - just as slowly as he opened them before - and raised his arms until they matched the horizon before him. With one last breath, he slowly fell forward. Head-long into the battle that still raged below.

[erender]

The balance between the thundering orchestra below and the timid symphony above soon was torn...

...The winds now rising an octave higher, their violins - now becoming more like flutes - drowning out the bass below as the wind was cut by the skin of his face, and skimmed past his ears - no longer brushing against him, but breaking in front of him. Small clusters of sedimentary bounced countless time upon the side of the cliff as they fell a few yards in front of the elf, soon to become prisoners of war to the relentless waves below.

The elf began to decend further and further down toawrds the ongoing bellum, although the winds never ceased to restore the balance they once abided by. By now, the brutal orchestra below had either been kicked/thrown off stage, or beaten to death with their own instruments in the flautist's attempt to silence them and comandeer the entire theatre.

Small, horizontal slits of lustrous amber become visable above the clash of arms below as the barely opened his eyes to a squint. The wind began to grouge their blades into his eyes and cut loose all the moisture present; the victim finally closing his eyes after he assessed his altitude.

The flute's ambiance slowly faded while the musician continued to emulate a professional performer - (the crowd no doubt beginning to suspect something at this point, and probably considering a refund of their monatery admissions if this continues). However, this was not a revenge the vengefull spirits of the orchestra were taking upon the flautist, for they to had remained dead in volume as well. The only sound to be heard was the ominous, slow, steady, beating of a drum.

As the last beat nearly sounded, the elf's arms began to shift in a swift and agile form as they grew out in length and width into a flesh wing - violet feathers quickly extending out evenly over this altered ligament hiding this macabre and unusual form. Over the rest of his body, it was as if his verdant robes sank in and molded with his skin - fomring a hide of feather and flesh from tail to the butt end of his beak.

An aquatic charger,
zealous upon his steed.
In the eyes of the victims, their end growing larger;
looking to the heavens, with a prayer, with a plead.

The words, retribution, they bring,
from above dove salvation.
A dark raven's wing,
had saved them from damnation.

This blade emerged from the water,
leaving the two, for themselves, to fend.
Soaring free from the unintentional slaughter,
and onward, to an ambiguous Northrend.

[erender]

Day 1

After soaring along the north-bound winds for what seemed like hours, I managed to spot a large vessel, of which I had never seen its like before, sailing in relatively the same direction. Not knowing if this iron-clad ship was friendly or hostile, I knew it had to be going somewhere; the seagulls that soon clouded the skies also assured that land was nearby.

Remaining in the skies, I continued to follow this sea-worthy navigation - making sure to sustain a high enough altitude where I wouldn't attract much attention to anyone who may glance sky-ward and find a deep-violet raven shadowing them.

After about another half an hour, I was able to catch a glimpse of a few broken chunks of ice adrift in the sea; and about another half an hour later, the same dismembered groups of ice were barely visible to the south, as this new and mysterious land was upon me.

There wasn't a moment of silence to be had while swords were being shaped on anvils, gunshots as well as cries of agony and death ringing from the gates, orders being barked from officers at lieutenants, then lieutenants to soldiers, and howls from, what I assume is, wolves in the adjacent wilderness came from every possible direction in this supposedly forsaken land. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had urgent business to attend to in these daunting lands. Thusly, it wasn't too difficult to find tasks, errands, quests, and other random duties (typically militant) that inhabited this impending town, known to the locals as 'Valgarde'.

Oddly enough, while enduring my first day upon this surreptitious continent, I encountered more than I would have expected in the lands surrounding Valgarde.

The first of these encounters took place in a Nordic catacomb to the north of Valgarde, where I chanced upon an adventurer, named Caoimhin, from a guild I was relatively familiar with - Alvenerin Kalimdor. Apparently, he needed assistance with retrieving a holy artifact from deep within the crypts - guarded by hordes of undead. Luckily, the crusader he received this task from imbued his with a holy presence that... aggravated these dark beings greatly. Upon completion of this fairly simple quest, we parted parted ways - paying our respects to each other and saying our farewells.

The second, and last, of these encounters was an odd chance upon three other individuals I was fairly or slightly familiar with. These people included a Dwarven paladin named Dorik, a Draenei "shaman" known as Amkor, and another Draenei - this one a priest, though - who goes by the name of Nasaria. Needless to say, Arthas Menethil, or the Lich King, should have fortified this keep with more veteran soldiers, as even their higher ranking garrison's didn't pose much of a problem for any of us.

[erender]

((First thing first, I'm never great with apologize nor great speeches of the decade to justify my wrongs. With that said, I solemnly apologize for bringing this sad excuse for a journal to a halt. Unfortunately, the past month has burdened me with immense amounts of drama and other mixed emotions that plagued me constantly, non-stop; any creativity that would have been devoted to wards continuing this RP story-line was distorted beyond comprehension of deciphering.

However, I believe that period of time may be subsided, or at least lessened for the time being. Thusly, I will take advantage of this and catch up on whatever I am able to; of course, since I will have to rely on month-old memories, my continued writings may not as much of a splendor as they could have been.

Never the less, without further a-do, the plank in this unfinished bridge:))

((P.S. The dates at the beginning of each following entry will, of course, not match the actual date that they are posted in. Seeing all the tales of the past within The Archives, however, I'm sure you will all be used to it by now and maybe even prefer it. Once again, my apologies... let's continue...))

[erender]

Day 6

To the left of the elf, a distortion of luminous gold, a suspended rain from the heavens, that painted the canvas of the starry night sky behind it - never trickling down to the still waters below that emitted a glistening reflection of the portrait; the shores of Quel'Danas and Moonglade barely in view for those who have the eyes to see at such a distance.

To the right, a herd of clouds grazing the open evening's roof, blocking the stars from anyone who resides under their fields. Beasts, known to some only in fairy-tales and legends, casting their gargantuan shadows wherever their scaly wings carried them on an already decrepit and dark land. Sharp and poignant rocks, half submerged in the shallowing waters, jutting like teeth from an open mouth - dozens of ships who had the unfortunate outcome of arriving to this harsh land at night still ravaged in this deceivers mouth. All of this was inevitably covered by a thick blanket of pale white snow, only those who have returned from the grave contending to match this pale shade.

Behind, the wanning enigmatic forests, grasslands, savage wolves, and barbaric nords known as Vrykul, all fighting for domination of the their native region.

Below, another deceiver that appears calm and beautiful from a distance, but will violently submerge anyone under it's mysterious tides, offering fleshy sacrifices to those who have learned the rules of this water grave and make their home below; a dedicated and stern beast, wrapped in a vibrant and well-groomed wardrobe of golden-brown and white feathers, being the only reason why the writings of this page haven't haven't been lost in such a place yet.

The the west, the approaching lands that remain enshrouded by mystery to this one at this time, only offer small glimpses of a invading boats arriving on a blood-stained shore, and a large coastal fortress that towered over the surrounding battlefields of strife. The ambiance of the waves below and the beating of enduring wings, occasionally halting as the persevering beast soared through the whispering winds, were all turned out as thoughts of the past, current, and future raced around in the elf's thought, wandering uncontrollably through the very recessed of his mind.

The now tiring wings of the gryphon began to beat less as it descended onto the mall harbor adjacent to the populated hold-out. Eventually landing with a run, then slowing to a walk, and finally idle, the elf dismounted the beast and gathered the few belongings he possessed from it's saddle. As a sign of great appreciation for the fatiguing journey he/she just embarked, the Kaldorei dipped his hand into his heavy robes and emerged with a shiny red apple that he held up to the gryphons beak - offering a faint smile along with the gi-

"What in the name o' Bronzebeard do ye think yer doin'?!"

The elf's hand clenched quickly around the apple as he jumped from the booming voice behind him, turning quickly to face a red-faced Dwarf approaching him with a rather irritated expression on said face.

"I-I was ju-"

"About t' feed this great beast wit' an fruit tha' has been inside yer fuckin' dress for 'ho knows 'ow long!", spit spewing from the enraged Dwarve's mouth becoming clearly visible as he came within inches of the elven male - his head tilted back as the pits of fire that were his eyes beamed into the elegant, amber eyes of his target. Quickly, and rather odd for his bulky and stout nature, he seized the apple from the elf's anxious hand before chucking it to the waters below - the gryphon's pleading eyes following it longingly - before beaming back up to the elf and gesturing violently behind him.

"Now get the 'ell away from my gryphon you piece o' shit!"

The elf blushed as he glances around and witnessed a few people starring at both the situation. Wanting nothing more to do with the Dwarf, nor the embarrassment that abound, the Kaldorei walked hurriedly away from the scene - rushing down a nearby alley to avoid anymore prying eyes. As he left, he could heard the low mumbling of the Dwarf commenting something about Elves, while cursing uncontrollably in between, as he began to manage the gryphon.

Sentences, comprised of words, comprised of letters ceased to mark the page as the elf suddenly stopped and looked up from his journal and out the dusty window to the courtyard below. Two tables sat in the middle of a busy section of stronghold. Two by two, and not always in unison, new-comers to Northrend, who's largest blades wielded was no more than kitchen knives and cleavers, stepped approached the recruiters; claiming to be cooks or modest laborers, their hands shook as they signed their life away with no more motivation than a patriotic act - to become a defender of a fortress with no more than one-hundred soldiers against a darkness of thousands.

The elf raised a hand to the glass surface of the window, his finger-nail adeptly growing longer into a bladed claw with the ascension, and etched a thin line in the surface where the longer of the line was, whispering oh so slightly as finished and inspected his imaginary gash upon all their necks.

"...War is hell... and I'm the devil..."

A combination of a slight smirk and a faint grin emerged on the Kaldorei's face as his two fingers pinched the wick of a nearby candle - the flickering bronze hue of the window becoming extinguished, and the elf slipping into the shadows of the inn.

[erender]

Twin horizontal slits of amber could barely be seen upon the tree-line, moving slowly east as the Kaldorei fought to progress against a raging blizzard. With every footstep, he almost staggered and fell when raising his foot, and then feeling the bitter cold as his foot sunk back down into the white blanket below him. His robes, which were bound tightly around him - only to be fastened by two numbing hands clenching their very threads, danced furiously in this icy storm - his long blue hair following in unison.

Despite his best efforts, he was only granted the vision of a few feet in front him - the howling winds joined by the endless snow acting as a thick fog all around him. Suddenly, the heavily bound elf stopped as he suspicions of a shadow in the near distance invaded his mind and caught his eye. He could not make out the silhouette - it's form fairly muddled and distorted from the harsh weather between both of them - but it was discerned by the elf to be of fair size and of non-humanoid composure as it moved in queer jolts, almost as if it were digging deeper below the fallen snow.

The cluster of tightly bound apparel which was the elf slowly and warily approached the shadowy figure; surprisingly it didn't notice him yet, but the roaring winds more than likely muffled any sounds that would normally be heard. As the distance between the two became mere feet, the creature suddenly stopped it's current task - as did the elf, knowing quite well that his presence had more that likely become known to the other at this point. Both the disturbed figure and the curious elf stood starring at each other for what seemed like minutes, though neither of them could guarantee each other's gaze upon one another due to the thick natural barrier between them - which was the only object of moment in this particular scene.

Then, just as quickly as it ceased it's task, it suddenly skipped away quickly in the opposite direction, seemingly unburdened by the storm that abound the region. At this, the elf tilted his head in utter bafflement, finding it hard to believe that this creature, after acting relatively calm for the past minute, was suddenly inspired with fear. His curiosity was cut short as the shadow entered his sight again, this time though dashing hastily toward the Kaldorei. Accompanied by nothing more than a shrill cry, the beast lunged forward in an unbalanced manner at the elf's chest - jagged, broken, and unkempt claws at the front of his attack. The elf expressed a slight smirk, masked by his attired, and responded to this hostility with his own poignant claws. As the attacker squeezed the distance between them to, yet again mere feet, the elf moved swiftly to his right - adeptly dodging this assault and carving a large gash upon the creature's unarmored stomach, his personal momentum which was original beneficial to him acting against him in this venture.

As the druid's claw ceased to rend any more flesh, the creature quickly fell and stumbled a fair distance away - painting the snow a crimson red between the point of injury and his final destination upon this world. Now moving with the blizzard instead of against it, the elf quickly made his way over to the corpse which was lying on it's back.

As he neared the body, his hand rose and thick, thorny roots shot up from the ground in unison; warping themselves around the still unknown creatures neck, arm, and legs as the elf clenched the exposed hand. Kneeling down beside it, he noticed it's form was more humanoid than he thought, although the macabre form bound only by ragged, wool clothing suggested that it was... something else. The corpse that was suggestively dead suddenly sprang back to life with the same ghastly scream as before. The elf, unwavered by the macabre creatures last action, starred deep into the large eye centered upon it's face before the edges of his mouth ascended slightly in a slight smirk. With the same hand as before, he began to clench it tightly - the root around the prisoners neck acting as a garrote as it's thorns dug deeper into the dead flesh; the cries becoming louder as the garrote wove itself deeper around the victims neck. By this point, it was unsure to the elf if the screams were brought on by an insane, inhuman quality, or if this... thing... was actually crying out in pain. Regardless of the murderer's thoughts, the ringing vocals ceased to echo through his ear as the last twitches were made by the tortured. At this, the elf stood up to continue his journey; unbenounced to him, the blizzard that previously raged across the unsettled land seemed to have vanished. Unraveling his apparel from now un-needed spots, he continued walking east to his destina-

"Quite a mess you've made here..."

The elven male stopped, almost stumbling over from being taken by surprise at the soothing voice. As hi turned to his right, he spotted a fair skinned female of his kin, with long violet hair, and only adorned with a simple white gown which matched the blanket of snow which she tread in merely with thin leather sandals.

"You should tread carefully in this area; Scourge, teaming with plagued beasts have all but occupied every squa..."

Her eyes grew wide as something in her mind comprehended the elf before her for more than a stranger - inspecting his features, even at the distance they were, seemed to only further buttress her mental claims.

"Th...Tha...Than'dryan?!"

The druid continued to stare at her with, quite the opposite of heir's, a not so pleasing expression; much like him to her, he too recognized her, but his apathetic expression remained.

"Than'dryan... it's... it's been so long since I've seen you.", she added in.

"...Too long, some may say." The other Kaldorei replied coolly

After the male elf uttered his last word, the other began to rush towards him in a spurt of joy. As she got within feet of him, she held arms open and closed them around the spot in which the elf resided in what would have been a partially loving embrace; only that the elf dodged to the side, avoiding the hug completely. Almost stumbling to the snowy blanket below, the elf caught herself and wheeled around to the druid.

"Than-"

"However, I'm not one of those people...", the elf paused for a second, almost hesitant at saying the next word, "...mother."

A smile spread over the confused elf's face as she apparently became rather joyful again of her son at least recognizing her.

"I... I can't believe I have finally found you after all these years-"

"...Ninty-three"

"...What?"

"It's been ninety-three years since I last "saw" you. In fact, I supposedly haven't seen you, or your 'husband'", the elf grin ever so slightly, knowing that a more vile act took place when harboring his creation, ", save for merely a dream."

"What are you talking abo-"

"Then I was raised as an orphan to a tribe of hunters in western Ashenvale - enlisting in the Third War as a master marksman named Erender."

"That's a lie and you know it!", The serene voice that laced his mothers voice was now twisted into a bitter tone.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm fully aware that it's a simple fantasy... but it seems to be the truth to them.", The Kaldorei's grin had formed into a combination of a sly smirk and a pleasing smile by this point.

"'Them'?"

"It's really nothing to concern yourself with, just the colorful, interesting, and fascinating individuals I've chanced upon after escaping that hell you put me through... or rather... put me in."

The elf's eyes now glistened slightly from tears, while Zarodehn's remained dry. "Than'dryan... I did it for your own go-"

"You locked me in a cage when I was a mere child... placed me in the custody of the wardens below the subterranean caverns of Hyjal to rot..." The Kaldorei's words still remaining cool and calm, which is more than could be said for the other.

"I didn't send you to rot! I did what I had to do in order to protect you!"

"Protect me?... I find it amusing how the idea of simply hiding me away somewhere for a short period of time never chanced upon your mind."

"..." The elven female was about to add something else, most likely continue her incensive shouting.

"But instead, locking me in a cage for well over one hundred years seemed like the more prudent decision in your unmerciful mind. Even though I've already come to know the answer, simply admit it already... admit that you were afraid to become the next."

"..How di-"

Zarodehn reached into one of the pockets in his verdant robe and brought forth a small, clouded, teal orb; the mock-serious look still present.

"Scrying is such a powerful tool... isn't it?" He paused for a moment to examine her expression before tucking the sphere back in the confines of his apparel. "But that's beside the point. You see... this reunion is obviously turning very sour for you and is simply boring me. I've dreamed countless times of murdering you right where your feet are placed upon a clean soil, but I'm afraid I will have to continue to wait for that day, as I'm in quite a rush and can't fully find pleasure in doing such a thing unless I'm able to dedicate much time to it. Perhaps... and hopefully... we will chance upon each other in the very... very... near future. You see, I now have others who I hold dear to me, something I'm sure you've always wanted, and one specifically who is extremely close to me."

At that, the druid turned away from the one, painfully deemed his "mother" by bloodlines, and began to continue on his way.

"...So it's true..."

The departing elf's ears twitched slightly at his mother's words - now becoming relatively softer again - but he failed to stop.

"...You've managed to corrupt yourself even futher..."

Suspicions of who she may have been referring to now caused him to stop dead in his tracks, turn around, and walk back towards her until only a few yards separated them.

"Really now, and how did I manage to do that? I can't see how I could have become any darker after being ushered forth from your womb.

Due to a passively short temper and a inevitable necessity to argue, her voice became stern once again, a deep frown on her face followed suit.

"Your able to scry into ages past, but unable to see the error of your ways in the past few months of becoming so close to that demon harboring whore..."

Zarodehn's head slowly tilted to the side slightly, as his eyes peirced violently into the other's"

"...it seems all so fitting of your own demonic ways though."

A slight grin began to form upon Zarodehn features.

"...A demon?... me? No... or at least... not yet." Zarodehn began towards the cluster of hate and torment, moving ever quicker with every step he took - gliding through whatever distance still remained between them.

Ravens fluttered quickly from the various trees in the frozen forest as a loud, piercing, cry echoed through it's furthest reaches - hopping upon the snow to who knows what distance. As the echoed died out, the Kaldorei knelt down to his answered vengeance; his eyes slowly ran up and down the deep gash that was carved from her waist to her neck. Upon reaching the top of the tear, he then moved on to gazing into her still barely life-filled eyes - her breath coming in short and painful bursts as her lungs were almost drown in her own blood. His gaze didn't falter from looking deep into her shinning yellow eyes, he took ever moment he had left, relishing ever second... if only he could make it last for an eternity. Slowly, her world became black, and even though her eyes were wide beyond belief, the lids nearly invisible, her vision of Northrend's skies began to fade away from her - only to have the last image of her very own son taking joy in watching her suffer to a painful death.

As the last breath was drawn, accompanied by the gurgling ad chocking of rushing blood, the elf took a few more moments to stare deep into her wide, lifeless eyes. After becoming fully satisfied, he placed a hand on her forehead and gently moved descended it, speaking while doing so.

"This is where you're suppose to close your eyes..."

As he raised his hand, the wide yellow orbs which were present before were now covered by a pale, light-blue skin. Slowly, he ascended, snapping the rest of the way when he neared his full height, but still hanging his head in the act of examining his deed. Glancing to right left, he followed a long trail of blood that was caused from the impact - it stretching all the way from the corpse up a tree about ten yards away. He smirked slightly, yet again, at the blood stained tree and muttered softly...

"...Drink well."

Turning back to the corpse, he took one final glance before slowly closing the twin amber orbs that were his eyes, and turning to his left - finally resuming his east-ward travel. Still having his eyes shrouded, he began to speak softly to himself.

"Welcome back... Surazak..."

The edges of his mouth banished the smirk that was present moments ago, and twisted it into a vile grin. Upon lifting his head back up to a level height, the hair that was blocking his face was forced backed, and his eyes shot open - revealing blood-shot red orbs that glistened with a violent hue while reflecting nothing but their own pleasures.

The elf laughed silently to himself as he staggered through the snowy tundra, blizzards now being inspired with a malicious fear - never showing the slightest hint of their presence for his whole trek for the rest of his journey.

[erender]

((After reading this, you may or may not have been infected with a need to know more about the true "Erender". In fact, it was partially in mind while I wrote this entry to place some form of alibi for an RP-interaction. By all means... do so at your leisure and your discretion, for that opportunity is ripe; however, don't become cross and think ill of me if I'm not willing to part with this information in the manner of which you expect and/or at all.

Oh, and one final thing, don't attempt to bring this up in the guild hall,(guild chat. If guild halls are actually implemented some time in the near future, which I doubt, feel free to see that as an able opportunity), and expect to find the answer you're looking for; after all, everyone would find the answer that way. However, that's not to say I wont... exhibit some of these traits in any RP that I conduct there, but simply, due to realistic terms, wont be too keen on expressing anything deep there.

P.S. Just for clarification, I'm not forcing anyone to RP with this, for and interaction will simply spawn out of your personal interest in learning anything about "Erender".

P.P.S. Feel free to already know everything from Erender's false past, Ande'thoras-ethil, Kaldorei, by whatever means best suit you, (palm-readings from a strange troll in Stranglethorn Vale, going back in time by means of Gnomish Engineering, being teleported to a parallel universe after falling into the nether due to your Mekgineers Chopper not being able to make the jump from Hellfire Peninsula to Shadowmoon Valley, etc. . Once again, the choice is yours.

~S))

[erender]

A cold breath, a small contributor to the already thickly present layer of fog that washed over this eastern region, quickly emerged from the elf's mouth - scraping bitterly on his bluish, cracked lips as it drifted to accompany the rest of its brethren. The winds continued to flow like a rushing stream in an eastward direction; his long, dark-blue hair dancing delicately in unison as strands crossed over fatigued, amber eyes - the lids that submerged half their existence growing heavier with each flake of snow that fell from the clouded, dusk skies above.

Burdened lids raised ever so slightly when the peaks of a crimson towers slowly emerged from behind a broad mountain that still obscured the rest of the architecture. Upon scaling the base of the shielding mountain further, the elven male's amber orbs sleepily rolled from side to side, observing the recently erected stronghold - the scarlet masonry complimenting the violet-orange hue of a setting sun behind it. Citizens, both laborers and military officials were barely able to be deciphered from his current position as they carried out their late-evening tasks. Twin, amber orbs stared wearily into this taboo culture which, from the current perspective, seemed not stray far from those who would reject it. Of course... the elf wasn't able to see what sins were manifested below such a docile civilization... but his mind was quite familiar with such travesties.

"Decisions... decisions..."

Zarodehn's trance was shattered from the malicious whispers that were no louder, and no calmer, than the wind that swept past his ears.

[shadow=red,left,300]"Let's... mull over our two possible options before resorting to anything... foolish.", [/shadow] the voice continued, mirroring its previous somber tone; the voice seemed to grow in it's brooding nature, as if the words ushers forth a mischievous grin.

[shadow=red,left,300]"You see... you can either deal with this pervasive blight in your own... lacking... methods, or...", [/shadow] the shadowed grin seemed to grow slightly stronger as he continued, [shadow=red,left,300]"...I can do the kindest of favors and replace you in this... brilliant bloodshed... assuring nothing less than one-hundred percent..."[/shadow] The whispering tone quickly but clandestinely spawned a more pleasing tone.[shadow=red,left,300] "...After all... you, myself, and even the thick blanket that... drowns... out the soils of this land know that you're in no condition for such an endeavour..."[/shadow]

Amber eyes, accompanied only by their own fatigue, slowly swept over the weary figure; his mind gradually agreeing with what the whispers spoke as he ended his inspection. Slightly hesitantly, his head nodded slowly while the rest of his body when fairly limp.

[shadow=red,left,300]"Oh... don't worry... I'll guarantee its survival..."[/shadow] The malicious tone returning to the whisper with its recent words after sensing Zarodehn's faint hesitation.

As the whispers slowly drained from the elf's mind, a small cluster of red lines began to etch their way to the center of the amber orbs - resembling that of a shattering rock, but moving oh-so gently and smoothly like that of a delicate stream. A self-satisfying grin slowly replaced that of the previously inhabiting apathetic appeal as the blood-red streams connected with one another - now resembling a ironic prediction of what was to come for the unfortunate inhabitants before him. At this comprehension, the grin spread a little wider as the snow below him began to squeal with every footstep - his weary stride now replaced with one of awareness as he pleasingly proceeded...

A shivering hand, sheathed by a wool glove, reached deep into a tattered pocket - almost completely unaccessible by the polished, scarlet-tinted armor that encased the equally wool pants - and emerged with a silver pocket watch that settled evenly in the palm of his hand. Under the effects of the bitter cold, he fumbled a few times with it before opening the tool, brushing off the lens before reading the contents - closing it and shoving it back in his pocket with renewed spirit as he turned to his companion next to him.

"Shift's over, thank the light. I'm going to visit the chapel before heading home to a nice, warm fire and hearty dinner."

His companion expressed a slight nod before adding in his words of departure. "Have a safe night."

"You too!", the enthusiastic soldier replied before turning and hurrying across the ramparts and down the stone steps to the grounds below.

With the stern, watchful look lingering back to the guard, his eyes resumed their patrol of the courtyard below. A sharp narrow wind cut swiftly over his flesh as a cold hand clasped tightly over his mouth his eyes growing wide.

"...'Have a safe night'... What a poor prediction..." A foreboding whisper commented, it's tone as bitter and chilled as the weather around them"

The man's eyes grew wider by the second, almost mimicking that of the recently slain victim who lay... decaying in the pale snow... so very, very far to the east.

"MMMMM! MMMMMM!!!"

The guard tried to scream, but his cries were all in vain, as the tightly clasped hand muffled any sounds from assisting in his damnation. His body began to move in jolts against the elf's as he squirmed to gain salvation from these undying chains.

"...I...want you to scream for me..."

The elf moved his hand from the invalid's mouth to wrapping his arm around his neck; a shrill cry swept over the night's serenity and into the ears of every inhabitant in the settlement. Then... just as sudden as his eyes shot open... his movement's began to calm as a wicked blade plunged deep within his flesh - sinking deep within the soft, warm confines below the chilled exterior. With his final breaths, the shackles the binded him retreated, and his collapsed to the ground with a series of jolts. A cold hand washed over the dilated eyes - a sly smirk contributing to the already present grin as he did so; upon descending the ramparts with a gentle landing, his ears twitched excitedly to the sound of heavy boots quickly ascending stone stairs to the bloody scene.

The edges of the elven male's mouth continued to twist into a self-satisfying, pleasing, and anxious grin - growing with every action committed - while the vibrant, pale moon was the only aware witness to the massacre below. Women and children, running for their pitiful existences, rushed hopelessly to the cathedral at the highest tier in the settlement - their blood running like rivers down the slopes as burnt flesh horrifically pealed off on its own accord. With the town being reduced to nothing more than a burning attraction - littered with corpses of all generations of both genders - soft leather soles began their own march up to the cathedral - a sickly squishing noised paved every footstep of crimson-soaked snow... quite a symbolic offertory to the Scarlet order. With such a rush of anxiety from the grave situations outside, none of the citizens who still remained could comprehend their mistake of forgetting to reinforce the large, oak door... until it was too late...

An ominous creak rang through the cathedral - piercing the hushed and worried whispers of its many inhabitants who hid far below the main hall. With blood shot-eyes slowly skipping from one corner of his eyes to the other, his ears taking note of the despairing silence, and his mouth forming into a quick, strong grin and his voice carried through the many, winding corridors.

"This is an outcry to all the Scarlet Crusaders who still persist with their meaningless existence, and a special acknowledgment to all your ministers who put so much faith into such a fallacy! Now, while you wait for your own imminent doom - much like the of your rotting kin who currently rest in a pool of their own blood, we highly recommend pissing yourselves, followed of course by a praying to your impotent gods, then cowering in the corner and begging - always effective. But, if you take it upon yourselves now, there is still time for an oh-so heroic suicide!"

The grave and foreboding words slowly faded from the sanctuary, seeming to ring endlessly through its halls - as if the acoustics were resurrected after passing through each set of ears. As they dissipated, a firm series of claps now conquered the ambiance of the main hall as a elegantly robed man emerged from an adjacent pillar - his figure just as gaunt and sharp as his beaming stare of dominance and overconfidence into the crimson orbs.

"Truly impressive showmanship, it must have taken you centuries to articulate such an acquisition." The smirk that mirrored the traits of his glare slowly grew as he finished his statement, his right hand moving before him as he bowed respectfully and sarcastically. "Welcome, my son, to our humble church in our new salvation from the daunting evils of Azeroth - New Hearthglen. Tell me... what is it that this humble messenger of the light can assist you with this fine evening?"

Surazak remained silent, expressing nothing more than the same malicious and brooding grin that had accompanied him during the entire blood-bath. After a moment of silence, the priest, still holding his previous features, began once again.

"Ah... a little shy, are we? Not much for conversation... would rather have a cold, finely crafted blade speak for you?" A moment of silence past again, identical to the previous, before he continued. "Maybe not... Perhaps you can reveal to me the purpose of your visit to our isolated town?"

The grin, mixed now with a slight smile, began to grow - but only a bit - as he let silence be restored to the halls before responding coolly. " 'My' purpose, you ask? ...If you crave the answer, then I will satisfy your thirst... After all, it's only fair that I send you to the grave with satisfaction..." The priest seemed to conjure a agitated sneer at this. " We were sent here for the purpose of eradicating this new scourge upon Northrend before it gained a decent foothold..." The sneer quickly formed into an aggravated and disapproving frown after being related to that which they seek to abolish. "...Of course... My purpose is the other side of the same coin... You see... I'm here merely for the oh-so gratifying entertainment, which your cult has been ever so adept at fulfilling." The preacher's frown only worsened from now further being referred to as a 'cult'; however, his professional appeal quickly snapped back to his features.

"How very unfortunate... you see our justified crusades in times past as a treason against all of Azeroth, and yet your actions this evening place you in such a condescending position." A mischievous grin gave birth upon the priest's features and slowly grew to a formidable size at his attempts of conversion. "Interesting how, when comprehending it all, that which you seek to eradicate is much like yourself."

Keeping his calm but malicious appeal, his staid but brooding shroud, he laughed slightly and quietly to himself. "...How very confused you truly are... you see... I'm nothing like you, in a very simple method..." A cold, poignant wind cut across the priest's cheek and a chill trickled down his spine like drops of cold water slowly running down his back. His eyes, however much he tried to fight it, opened widely, catering to the true fear he tried to conceal inside of him - his figure now erect, almost as if paralyzed.

[shadow=red,left,300]"...I don't torture my victims..."[/shadow]

The invalid's mouth went wide and his head shot back as a poignant, twisted blade sunk deep into his flesh and cutting away all that was concealed by the peach exterior. Never ceasing in his attempts at gasping for air, his gaunt figure began to give way under the burden of death that now crushed him as he collapsed to the floor - blood soaking, but not noticeably staining his already scarlet attire. The assailant knelt down beside the deceased corpse and performed the simple, yet sentimental, ritual before ascending to his full height.

While he hung his head in apathy at his deed, his ears twitched as a soft whisper entered them - originating further down the corridor behind and old wooden door. The grin that accompanied him moments ago slowly, but surly grew once again as his eyes stared at the birth of the sound. He strode agilely towards his next destination soundlessly - shattering that small distance that remained between them rather quickly. Carefully placing a hand upon the bronze nob, he gently twisted it counter-clockwise; it highly resembled the same muffled creak that the large oak door emitted. A dim light crept through the windowless, dank room from the main hall as a small child, both with a hopeful smile and a feared expression stood up and walked towards the threshold.

"F...Father Anoras... i-is that... is that you...?"

A moment passed before the child's eyes became adjusted to the light, and they widened with an unimaginable fear as his eyes answered what his mind inquired. He began staggering backward, stumbling and falling after a few steps - landing fairly closely to the other hidden children; huddled together for both warm, and comfort. Surazak's grin was slowly concealed by a sly smirk as his eyes danced upon each intimidated and nightmare ridden expression. Slowly closing in on the small group - the cluster of fragility squirming against a solid stone wall - he knelt down before one who was practically constricting the very life out of his toy stuff-bear. With a surprisingly gentle smile added to the smirk, he placed a few fingers on it's artificial, cotton fur... his eyes quickly moving from the doll to the child's horrified and slightly confused face and spoke in soft whisper that could be heard by all thirteen.

"An immitation... a non-threatening and inanimate object you can place so much faith in... never having to worry about anything more than what you contribute into it." The elf paused for a moment as he noticed the confused look began to bloom in the child's expression, as well as all the others. "... Of course... I'm not here for docile emulations of feral beings... no..." The grin began to spread, but it still masked by both the sly smirk and the slightly comforting smile. "...In fact... I'm here to bring all of you a very... unique gift". Ascending, casually retreating a few feet, and kneeling down again, he reached into his verdant apparel, his hand emerging with a decently-sized box. The children's greedy eyes began to shine slightly, at the possible promise of satisfying their own selfish wants, as the box was placed on the stone floor in front of him. The children's eyes suddenly moved from the box to the small, silver key as the elf began to turn it slowly - a neutral winding emitted from deep within the contents. Finally, the elf's hand stopped when the key had reached its limitation, and, with one final malicious glance at the children, he released his grip and stood up - whispering the same way he had before when inspecting the adolescent's pseudo bear.

"...Happy Winter's Veil..."

When his whispers faded, he slowly walked out of the ominously foreboding room with only a consecutive ticking to offer a farewell. Emerging from the threshold and gently closing the door behind him, he dragged a nearby pew in front of the exit - continuing his departure after this assuring reinforcement. The series of ticks that still echoed from the room were soon drown out by the unrelenting sound of desperate fists rasping heavily upon a hopeless escape. The cathedral suddenly quaked furiously as the door, the pew, and everything contained within the ever-so unfortunate room was ripped apart and either painted the walls inside, or was thrust into the main hall by the gnomish craftsmanship. Surprisingly, the still fairly-intact head of the small child who offered the welcome rolled and skipped towards Surazak - bumping into his foot with the slightest of velocity. Stopping for a moment, the elf glanced down and meet the fairly burnt, mutilated head with his own gaze; grinning, he knelt down and brought it up from the cold, stone floor - it's locks of brightly blond hair threading through his fingers as he continued his way out.

Emerging from the cathedral, he was welcomed with the crisp, fresh, mid-night air along with the decaying rot of hundreds of corpses mixed with a thick blanket of soot from the still burning abodes that dotted the forsaken settlem-

<BANG!>

Shards of metal soared quickly by the elf as well as some becoming engraved in the heavy leather apparel that sheathed his body - others simply sailing down and impacting the hard, crimson snow below. With a grin, the elf's head turned limply - the grotesque scene contributing a macabre appeal to it - to his right, his eyes beaming into ones that held and uncontrollable amount of fear.

<BANG!>

Again, shrapnel strayed from the designated target, save for a few pieces which were, again, halted by thick layers of dragon-hide armor. However... this time, the elven male began striding slowly over to the young woman, her whole body gradually shaking more profusely with every step he took towards her - her finger rattling upon the trigger while her quivering voice uttered a prayer.

"I-In the n-name of the-the l-light..." She gulped heavily from an unrelenting burden of fear crashing down upon her - her mouth becoming dehydrated from the dry air she breathed in ever-so heavily. "...Impure s-souls sh-shall b-b-be banish-ed into et-ternal d-damnation!"

The ominous being that was yards away at the beginning of her recital was mere two feet away after her enthusiastic conclusion; and, with simply expressing the same malicious appeal that had been his murdering companion this entire evening, he held the child's head up to his.

"...How very impure I am..."

The young woman's eyes quickly jolted to the relatively scathed head of the small child - the lids of her eyes failing in an attempt to open wider, but the now-useless weapon she wielded fell to the pale blanket of snow below as she stared in utter horror.

"J...Jo...Joshua?!"

The twisted grin upon Surazak's features slowly grew as she comprehended this child dearly and, with a simply gesture, released his grip on the blond hair - the still living human hesitantly falling to the snow with it. However much it pained the mother to look at the severed, maimed, horror-stricken head and expression of her son, she could not rip... tear... her equally horrified gaze away from it as tears began to fill in her eyes - gently trickling down her cheek as they poured out. The elf, still looking to the female, began to utter a whisper that brought a comfort to the calamity.

"...You are feeling unimaginable pain right now, that would be apparent to anyone here... Of course, although you may doubt it ...I... even offer mercy when the time permits..."

The woman simply continued to mourn the grim death of her son, not even glancing up or showing the least bit of acknowledgment to the elven male. Soft steps in the crimson-white snow below began to sound as Surazak continued his departure - what was able to be heard of the delicate footsteps quickly vanished. Warm tears continued to trickle down from her eyes and drip soundlessly to the thick blanket of remorse below - only the raging fires offer an ambiance and she, time and time again, clenched her fists on he forehead, shook her head back and forth furiously with her eyes masked by quivering lids, and opened them back up... hoping this was all just a dream.

Her breaths suddenly came in short jolt as her left hand moved up to her throat, and, to her dismay, her numb finger tips gently pressing against a cold steel that protruded her neck from behind, sinking until the hilt pressed upon the skin on the back of her neck. To her right, Surazak slowly knelt down, adjacent to her, and gazed calmly at small souvenir he had claimed from the cathedral.

"...Which is why I'm granting you wish... to be with your dearly beloved son once more... It's not in my ability to guide him swiftly back to this existance... so I will simply guide -you- to -him-."

Scarlet blood from the wound quickly cascaded down her neck, trickling down the crevice between her breasts, quenching the skin upon her stomach, and painting the pale snow below her with whatever remained from not being soaked up by the bundle of cloths wrapped around her physical form. Placing two, numb hand on the snow in front of her, a good portion of blood spilled from her mouth, only contributing more pigment to her bitter tapestry below. As her arms failed her, she feel to the ground below and began to curl slightly as both the weather and her ominous fate impressed a bitter chill upon her. In her final moments of this existence, she stared with widened, glistening eyes into those of here fairly deceased son - her world turning darker... blacker...

The elf preformed his sentimental ritual before sliding the blood-stained blade from her throat and ascending while still gazing at two - the ends of his mouth slowly twisting into a grin as his the bright fires lit only his back, while shadow consumed his front; and he caressed the wind with his whispers once more as he made his final departure.

[shadow=red,left,300]"...One-hundred percent..."[/shadow]

[erender]

Twin, vibrant amber orbs stared unflinching to the obsidian, mid-night skies above; the many stars that completed this tapestry illuminated the world below - emitting a soft hue that gently kissed the field where the elven male lay. As the amber siblings danced from star to star, leaping from one to another with only the thought of proceeding further, a slight smile slowly gave birth where the previous neutrality resided. His hands now moved from their idle position at his sides - threading fingers through each other and forming a small pillow that cradled the back of his head.

His eyes continued to gaze across the brilliant tapestry above, only the boundaries of his sights offering mere glances towards the lustrous, golden auroras that laced the spectacle. Every second of blissful observation seemed like a minute in this natural splendor, and every minute the sky's pocket-watch continued to sway from side to side - drawing the twin amber eyes deeper... deeper... into their hypnotic, but welcome, trance.

...Of course... the heavy obsidian blanket above realized what dominance it now possessed... and it began crave more... it began to... [shadow=black,left,300]thirst[/shadow]...

The lids that gently and calmly rested upon enthralled amber eyes began to slowly, but ever so gradually, open wider... and wider. An innocent inhabitant of the forests that abound would have glanced upon this scene and thought it nothing more than the dry, crisp, flowing night air that conjured such droplets - lacing the bottom rim of his eye... but the truth was oh...so... much more... sumbolic...

The glistening, solemn amber spheres now stared with a longing passion into that which now swayed into a perfect patter... and illustrious image... of a face... of ...her... face...

A pleading hand slowly reached to the thin, obsidian tapestry above - shaking ever so slightly as it rose - only to quickly descend as it's touch failed to meet her. However much it continued to drown the amber spheres with endless tears by seeing her is such an abstract way, he could not stray his gaze from this majesty... this dream...

With ever second appearing as a minute, every one of these minutes appearing as an hour, and each of these hours were accompanied by gentle waves of euphoria that trickled through ever corner of his being - skipping like smooth across a pond upon his skin as it enveloped him both mentally and physically. It had seemed like years... ages since his eyes had been quenched of their thirst... since they had drank of her beauty... so very... very long...

A hand, both of which by now rest limply at his sides, slowly and absentmindedly slid across the thousands of verdant blades below with the same quivering appeal as before; minuscule trenches began to form as his fingers tightened and clawed the soft soil - the simple hopes that previously resided now only gifted him with more tears as his comprehension of her absence griped constricted him further.

...Where a gentle, pleasurable mark of affection would become ensconced - a single, somber tear now trickled down in its stead - leaving only a moist scar as rememberance...