12-13-2010, 06:57 PM
*Moderate Language at the End.*
![[Image: WoWScrnShot_121310_005209.jpg]](http://i948.photobucket.com/albums/ad324/Koius/WoWScrnShot_121310_005209.jpg)
![[Image: WoWScrnShot_121310_005417.jpg]](http://i948.photobucket.com/albums/ad324/Koius/WoWScrnShot_121310_005417.jpg)
I will kill that man. That wretched, traitorous elf. I will shred his soul and bring his mind under my own. And when I do, his world-- his family, his money, his influence--will be all mine.
![[Image: WoWScrnShot_121310_005209.jpg]](http://i948.photobucket.com/albums/ad324/Koius/WoWScrnShot_121310_005209.jpg)
The voice echoes through the blackness, cold with a new calculating air of hatred, as the image of the man slowly appears. Jidaeo. They walk through the woods, it is quiet as they wait at the doors of a building. There is yelling, the felsworn grips him by the shirt and as if a strange blur of excitement had permeated the scene a man dropped from a roof, a door flicking open somewhere else and another demon hunter rushing outwards, glaives ready as he gunned for Astus. A ghoul leaps in the way and is cut down, splattering gore everywhere. Astus turns, firing off a few spells before the scene burns away like a photograph dropped in flames.
The demon hunter. That son of a...that execrable man. He who slaughtered me for reasons that he himself did not know. It was only my power, my mastery of life and death.
It was his jealousy...
It was his jealousy...
![[Image: WoWScrnShot_121310_005417.jpg]](http://i948.photobucket.com/albums/ad324/Koius/WoWScrnShot_121310_005417.jpg)
The scene plays out much quicker, the hunter hurling a tainted ball of flame as Astus leaps away with hiss, though he's struck on the back, felflame eating at his clothes and skin. He continues a chant as he's tackled by Falathorei, belting it at the top of his lungs in the pain of some horrid boiling sensation within his body as blackish purple mists coalesce around him. Soon enough the corpse returns from the nether; the undead horse rises beneath him, and attempts to gallop away. Strangely though bursts of light surround it, and it bucks, making Astus fall to the ground, rolling and hissing with his broken rib. The demon hunter rushes him, and he raises an arm in weak defense, the man's inhuman strength bending the metal at a revolting angle. Astus mutters something, shooting outwards a spiraling torrent of death energy, suddenly causing Falathorei to cringe backwards in fear as it touched him. He roared as Astus stumbled away, clinging desperately to that statue in the square of Raven Hill. He pants, breathing heavily as Marianna sets the building on strange fires. The Kal'dorei leapt forwards once more, glaives spinning with insane speed. In shock and panic Astus dropped, raising his arms around his neck, the blades cutting deep into the steel, and then deep into his neck. His head had not been severed, but the grievous wounds quickly caused him to bleed to death, Voran had shouted that they needed him alive. Falathorei simply shook his head as he snapped the necromancer's neck for good measure, then later after he attempted to halt Marianna's escape, and failed, exited the building with grace despite any fatigue from the fight he might have felt. He spat upon the necromancer's corpse as he passed, and perhaps out of spite more than anything stabbed one of his glaives into the stone-cold earth, twirling the other above his head as flickering tongues of fel hungrily lapped out of it. He brought it down, severing the necromancer's skull and walking slowly over to the town well. He looked down it for a moment before tearing out the bucket and dropping it down into the pools of water. The rain fell as the scene would pan out, the same unseen flame burning away the images.
The third time. This is the THIRD FEL-DAMNED TIME I've been to this realm; this wretched world I defile with every single spell I cast. The waves of torment rolling over me change me with every touch-- I can feel the hatred growing, it sickens me. Sickens me that I'm here once more. That I constantly toil away in the filth of death while those putrid mortals abuse their lives ending those who would seek eternity for their own. They are jealous. The living are all jealous.
...they will pay. They will all pay. I know this will be my last visit to your Kingdom, Death. f**k you, and you know what? f**k your mother too.
...they will pay. They will all pay. I know this will be my last visit to your Kingdom, Death. f**k you, and you know what? f**k your mother too.
![[Image: Ml7sNnX.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/Ml7sNnX.gif)