Light's Eclipse Page Six

Post by Hellborne

((Page Six: Three Sides of the Spectrum))

"Private First Class Loag Rotface reporting for duty!" The sharply dressed undead saluted. The man that he saluted too was in a shadow sitting down in a high chair. The chair had purple velvet and its wood was as hard as stone.

"Does it matter, Rotface? By the way, fitting name. Oh, yes, does it matter? All of you recruits find yourselves dead, killed by some worg or some stray ghoul. Back in my day, they would have sent just me into the field and slaughter everything but nooooo they think I am to impractical. I say to hell with them! They have never fought like I have!" The higher ranking Forsaken barked.

Loag Rotface took a step back, obviously scarred by the intimidation of the officer. "What...where do you want me?" Loag asked very slowly.

"Personally, the casualty pile. But I suppose you should go kill some worgs, or something," The officer finished. He added a very threatening hand gesture, like punching the air to make his point. The newbie quickly ran off to kill some worgs, or die trying. In the Banshee Queen's name of course.

"They don’t pay me enough for this," The officer sighed. The Forsaken slowly rose from his high wooden chair and stepped down from the shadows. He adorned a standard Forsaken Officer armor, purple shoulder pads, black leather everything, the works. Yet what made him different was the fact he did not wear the tabard of Undercity. Another thing that set him apart from most Forsaken was the amazing fact that he still had a jaw and, mostly, un-rotted skin. It has been said by recruits that this Officer's yellow eyes pierced their soul, and that his maniacal grin scared them to death, or undeath, or even un-undeath.

"Why must you always do that?" A very feminine voice asked from the Officer's right. The Forsaken turned to find another Forsaken walk up to him. A lady Forsaken, no less. She had the same outfit as the Officer, plus the tabard. She too had much of her skin un-rottened and her majestic pale skin shined in the dark moonlight. She had long white locks of hair frayed all over.

"Because, Namine, they are worthless and my life sucks. Let me have some fun," The Officer replied.

"Of please. First off, you are dead. Your undeath sucks. And Victor, if we have any chance of winning this damned war we need any comrade alive," Namine spat.

Victor rolled his undead eyes. He held up his hand, and mouthed 'Talk to the hand.' Namine crossed her arms across her chest. "You are ridiculous. Oh and just so you know, there is a rather large Scarlet camp that our scouts found. Just thought you might want to know that," She informed Victor.

"You're the ridiculous one!" Victor jabbed and sounded like a toddler in doing so.

...

Daellin and Maveryn left the next day from their night in the cave. They continued on the same road that Daellin was on. Maveryn would occasionally whistle a tune that the old paladin was not aware of. The two did not speak to each other. Maveryn was a well built man. The outlines of muscles could be seen through his layers of shirts. His scars on his face made him even more daunting. Daellin assumed Maveryn was a fighter, but now he was convinced. He made a quick mental note.

Don't mess with him.

Daellin quickly turned his attention from his escort to the scenery. He would have thought that the Dawn would have done more to help restore the plagued lands of Lordaeron in his one year absence. He was appalled by the rotten trees with long dead branches. He was disgusted by the lack of vegetation. In it's glory, Lordaeron had several varieties of growth, now it is all the same; dead. And lastly, he was disappointed by the lack of flowers. Odd thing for an old man, yet growing up the paladin received many gifts. One that was quite common was roses. Roses were the one flower that Daellin appreciated. It's blood red color showed it's beauty. Yet it's beauty however was easily destroyed when each petal would fall apart.

Like how the very citizens of Lordaeron, his people, tossed in praise of their prince who returned to them. They praised their prince who they thought saved them and purged the land. Little did Daellin's fellow men knew, their fates were sealed. Like how a rose falls apart, Lordaeron was torn asunder by it's heir. The rose took on a new meaning: a mortal blood spilled.

"The hell, what the?" Maveryn swore as he looked down at the path. He lifted his foot and looked under his foot. "Seriously, a flower?" The muscular man picked the flower off her shoe and tossed it to the ground. Maveryn continued on, yet Daellin stayed back. He looked down at the flower that his escort had stepped on and tossed without any other thought.

A rose. A rose without half of it's petals, that is. It had obviously been through hell. It was shriveled and showed no signs of any green on it's stem. The red was a very brownish-red. Daellin held it gently in his palm. He twirled the dead flower in his fingers. He flung over his satchel and opened it. He easily and slowly placed the rose inside the bag, then went on his way, trying to catch up to Maveryn.

The pathway started to have more turns and bends then before. It went up, down, left, right and any way possible. At one point Daellin was positive that they were going in a circle. However this would be impossible because he had not seen the mountains in front of him before. "This is it," Maveryn guided Daellin. The escort rose his hand to show the paladin the way. Daellin nodded and slowly paced up the rocky pathway that cut the mountain in half. He looked to his left and right. On top of the mountain ridges stood tall and proud men and women, all clad in armor and weapons. Daellin felt an odd feeling, one of pride yet disappointment.

“Commander should be waiting for us in the tower,” Maveryn instructed Daellin. The escort quickly sped up and went in front of a large tower. The tower must have been at least forty meters. It had seen better days seeing as how bricks were missing and the color it had was faded into a mesh of grey, but it was still largely intact. Maveryn knocked on the large wooden doors that led into the tower. A moment passed, then a minute. Daellin grew restless. He did not like this anymore. People were looking at him, mostly with the same expression. Stone cold eyes that penetrated Daellin’s soul all over. He rocked on his heels to pass the time.

The large doors opened. From inside the tower came a tall shrouded figure. Maveryn exchanged words with the man. The newcomer nodded, and walked towards Daellin. The elderly paladin tensed. He did not know why. Was it the eyes starring at him? Was it the man coming to him at a rapid pace.

“Daellin Lightheart, it is good to see you again. I see Maveryn made a damn good job for keeping you intact.” The figure remarked.

Daellin was speechless. Everything was coming over his head too quickly. The figure removed his hood. “Are you alright, Lord Lightheart? Do you remember me? It’s Ash.” Ash told Daellin.

A rush of blood went to Daellin’s head. He looked all around. The guards that were proud yet had the stone cold eyes were in fact Scarlet Crusaders. They proudly wore the red and white banner of the Crusade. The figure before Daellin, Ash the Red, too wore the tabard of the Scarlets. His red hair flowed in the wind, almost as a symbol of the Crusade itself. He remembered why he was here. He came to serve for the Crusade once more, under the promise that they have changed and are pure once more.

“It is good to see you again, Ash.” Daellin stated.

Ash the Red’s lips grew into a large smile. “We have much to talk about, my Lord.”

...

“We be goin’ the wrong way you damned fool!” Tefri roared at Kreel. The dwarf held her head to try to quell a painful headache she received after leaving Southshore. Probably a hangover, yet the dwarf did not care.

“No we aren’t! I have the map, after all. It says we should be in the Plaguelands right now,” Kreel looked around her surroundings. “And this does look quite...plaguey,” She added.

Quinton observed everything around them. Sense they left Southshore, he had yet said a word. The other two pestered him about his discussion with the famed Daellin. Personally for Quinton, he could care less for some delusional old man that just so happened to be some hero to the Dawn. If he cared nothing for the Dawn, he should not care for its heroes.

“Look,” Quinton pointed out his finger. For a moment, Kreel and Tefri did not look at where the young man pointed to. They were just shocked that Quinton actually had the will power to form a word. Finally, after some encouragement by the human’s daunting eyes, the pair looked.

A beaten down, weathered, brown and cracked sign post stood on the side of the path the trio had been trekking on. Blood red letters were barely readable. Tefri leaned in to read it. She seemed to read it again, and again. She turned back to her companions.

“Silverpine. The bloody sign says Silverpine!” Tefri yelled at the other two. “Ye’ damned elf idiot! I told ye’ we were goin da wrong way!”

Kreel seemed to lower her stature. Her head lowered, and looked down at her leather boots. Quinton lingered about, kicking pebbles far into the distance. The look on his face showed frustration.

Seriously. Kreel be damned. Go back to your land where you belong. Quinton thought as he kicked another pebble.

“I...I am sorry,” Kreel tried to apologize. It was not natural for her to do so. Usually she was the one being apologized to, not the one giving them away.

Tefri walked around, thinking about what to do. “Look, we can still get ta Light’s Hope, it will just take a wee bit longer. We will go up this damned forest, quickly go through the Glades above, then reach ta Plaguelands. Just pray that the Forsaken don’t attack us,” She explained.

Kreel wiped away a single tear that fell from her eye. She nodded slowly to the plan. Quinton seemed to not care. “Why would the Forsaken attack us? We are Argent Dawn members, not Alliance warriors,” She asked.

Quinton bursted into a long out fit of laughing. “Kreel, do you think they really care? We are not part of the Horde and our hearts beat. We are fair game to them,” Quinton remarked after cooling off from laughing.

Post by Behelich

-What are you up to?
-My armpits in incompetence!

A good read, keep it coming.

Post by Hellborne

((Had to look that up Alu. You are beyond obsessed))

Writer's Commentary

-I have wished to some how create a crazed undead. Some users on this board have perfected it (Read:Morec) so I thought I'd give it a go. If you forgot, Victor was once cunning and tactical. Now he sems a tad loopy.

-So obviously we need someone to keep him in check. Say it with me folks, Nah-min-aye because I know you all are saying it twenty different ways.

-I tried some metaphor action here. Roses, eh? That's all you had, Hell?

-Damn you Hell for turning my favorite protagonist againt us! How dare you make him turn on us! Light have mercy on you Hell!

-And if we have learned anything from reading this, it is that elves can not navigate well. Or at all for that matter.

-And let me just mention so far in this series this is my favorite page. However, the next pages are ten times more epic. Incoming epic battle!

Post by Behelich

((Had to look that up Alu. You re beyond obsessed))

Inorite? And Darths&Droids is worth every second I spent reading.

Light's Eclipse Page Six

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