Years Earlier...
The night was deep and the moon was full, casting a soft glow upon everything in the streets of Stormwind. She stuck to the shadows, doing her best to avoid patrolling guards, as a girl as young as she should not be out after dark. Quietly, she stepped down the ramp to the basement of The Slaughtered Lamb.
Her voice just above a whisper, she called out to the warlocks gathered. "I have heard you can teach me to wield power without limits, knowledge without constraint.." The tallest of the bunch, his dark hair falling in his eyes turned to her and grinned wickedly.
"Aye child, we can.."
Present Time...
It had been three years to the day since Koril (insert last name later) had run away from home and embraced the shadows. She had learned much in that time..and recently had retaken up her hobby of experimenting with demonic forces and souls. Hearing nothing but the sounds of her succubus's hooves on the cobblestones beside her, she slipped back to memories.
Flashback..
With delight, she began to summon and bind her first demon. She was still new to the art, and was not under her mentor's supervision, but she was foolish enough to believe that she could do this on her own.. The portal from which the demon was to come through shimmered..a form pressing through. She blinked in shock, for it was not a demon at all..but simply a very handsome male human, wearing nothing but a thin robe of the finest black silk. He smiled at her.
"I..I think my spell went awry..I'm sorry." She stammered a bit, trying to place what had gone wrong as the man stepped closer, the portal closing behind him.
"You are so beautiful for one so young.." His voice was almost hypnotising, she blushed at the compliment.
"I think I know how to reverse it so I can send you back to your home, I'm very sorry to have disturbed you." She flipped the pages of her spellbook, frowning at herself for her failure. The man stepped yet closer, reaching down and tilting her chin up to look at him. A feral gleam in his eyes, he grinned once again..the small fangs showing this time.
Koril cried out as the incubus lunged, tearing at her clothes, mockingly repeating what he had said as he stepped from the portal. She realized her error..the binding had not been set properly...
Present time...
Shaking her head, clearing away the memories, she whispered to herself. "I will never be that weak again.." Sounds filled her ears, she had wandered into the Lion's Pride Inn, as she always seemed to. The innkeeper watched her warily, noting the newly aquired succubus, he handed her a drink, free of charge.
She sat down in a lone chair, sipping from the mug and watching the activity of the inn. It always tended to be bustling, but today was an unusually busy one. Noting with distaste the amount of paladins was ever growing, she set the mug down and removed her spellbook from her pack.
Flipping through the pages, she found an experiment on a variation of a spell she had been using lately. The original would take a fraction of a soul from another, and then she could infuse it within whatever living being she chose. This variation, however, was the reverse. It would take a fraction of the essence from a demon..and infuse that with whomever she chose. It was intended to make the person more powerful, yet she did not dare test it on herself.
She chuckled, and whispered to the succubus in demonic. "I do believe it is time to do a bit of soul searching Kalriel, don't you?"
Present Time..
The experiments had been a success. She could successfully transfer the essence of a demon to that of a weaker being. There were a few drawbacks of course..the essence could take over, controlling the body if the person was not strong enough of will. There was another problem if the spell was a success as well..one she dealt with now.
"Give my book back! You do not understand what you attempt Linoge!" She was trapped in a corner behind a block of ice the mage had created. He had managed to get ahold of her spellbook, and was flipping through the pages. He glanced up at her, a grin upon his face.
"It will make me more powerful, no? Then I must attempt it. I have too many enemies not to." He flipped another page. "Ah..here..a spell of Binding." Unfortunately for Koril, the lower tiered version of the spell only required but a few words spoken and sheer force of will; both of which the mage easily accomplished.
"Do the spell Koril." He said as he dismissed the ice block keeping her trapped in the corner of the small room. She eyed him angrily, infurated more with herself for falling for another trick.
"You do realize the spell can fail correct? The demon will have control of your body, and I know of no way to reverse it yet." The binding spell forced her to do as he said, but she could still point out the dangers in hopes that he'd change his mind. If the spell succeeded others would find out..and the experiments would be traced back to her.
"To rise to power you must take risks along the way, my dear." Her eyes narrowed at the word "dear" when he held her bound. It was true he cared for her, but he lusted for power more.
"Fine, I will need room." Stepping to the middle of the room, Koril closed her eyes and mentally prepared the spell matrix in her mind. It was still fresh, she had cast it on herself not but one day ago. The same spell that had left her open to the spells of Binding...
In her mind's eye, she pictured an imp, close enough to the mage's personality that it would be the best suited for him to try to control. Her hands moved in steady gestures as if gathering power while at the same moment, she chanted in demonic. Her voice grew louder as the creature called forth began to materialize. Before it was completely in the realm, she froze the spell and drew from the demon it's essence, leaving it's body a shell.
The essence thrummed with power, more powerful than the soulshards she normally pulled forth from creatures of this world. It was not a material thing, but to those attuned to sensing demonic energies, they could feel it to the point of almost seeing it. Quickly, feeling the spell starting to drain upon her, Koril pushed the essence into the mage.
He dropped to the floor, groaning. It was to be expected, a rush of power that size could kill a weaker being. The Binding spell lifted from her, freeing her of his commands. Kneeling, she looked over Linoge, her anger forced back by her curiousity as to whether the spell had worked a third time or not.
The mage suddenly grabbed her by the throat and conjured a fireball in his palm, throwing it at her left arm. She cried out in pain as she ripped his hand from her throat, staggering back to the wall clutching her burned arm.
"Oh no..the spell failed..the imp has taken control..." She was too drained to try to banish the demon to at least freeze him long enough to get away. She saw no other recourse but to destroy Linoge if he attempted to harm her once more.
But he once again fell to the floor, lying still for quite some time. She stayed against the wall, watching quietly.
"Unh..Koril? Koril what happened?" He pushed himself to his feet and turned. "You're injured!" He produced a vial of healing potion, stepping closer, and poured a bit onto the wound. Soon enough it began to heal.
"The imp took control, but it looks like it was temporary Linoge. Do you feel alright?" He nodded slowly.
"I feel..a bit strange. But you look different, my dear. More powerful.." He paused, as if searching for the words. "You look so beautiful.." He stepped even closer, wrapping his arms around her in a hug before kissing her. She was shocked and squirmed to get out of his grasp. He put his head on her shoulder, his breath on her neck, whispering. "You look so beautiful..for one so young.."
Koril completely froze in fear. She knew that voice, it stirred memories she had long tried to put away. "You.." She hissed.
The incubus whom she had once again mistakenly summoned smiled viciously from Linoge's face. "Yes, my dear..I have come to finish what I started so long ago..." And with that, he punched her in the gut, knocking the breath from her. "I will take you back to the Nether so you may see the true powers which you yearn to control..as they torment you for all eternity. Just as your mentor tried to do with me." He punched her in the temple with the hilt of the dagger the mage carried, knocking her out cold.
Not too much later...
Koril awoke in the very basement of The Slaughtered Lamb..right at one of the key points to the summoning diagram upon the floor...the same diagram that was used to open a portal to the Twisting Nether. The incubus was chanting, but stopped when he saw her awaken.
"Ah..wonderful..I did so wish you to have one last look at this world before I took you from it. Perhaps I shall give you as a present to my master...yes..I think he'd be most pleased with you." The incubus grinned wickedly as he noticed she could barely move, still quite stunned and weakened from the earlier spell. Words failed her..pleading with the demon would do her no good, and she could think of no spells to cast. Her own minions would be of little use against one this powerful.
The sound of metal on stone alerted them both to the newcomer. The incubus quickly returned to summoning the portal as the sound got louder. Footsteps, metal against metal, and metal against stone. Surely one in full armor. She looked to the stairs, where the newcomer stood, watching the event taking place. It was Dristun, the warrior whom was no more of a do-gooder than she. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was unlikely Dristun would lift a hand to stop the incubus.
But he stepped forward, removing his coif and tossing it the floor. His face was covered in long scratches and bruises, some of them green around the edges. The wounds of the felhound's claws, which always spread infection quickly.
"Dristun.." Koril croaked, "It's not Linoge..it's an incubus..we must find a way..to banish it.." The incubus laughed, his spell nearly completed.
"I take her with me to the Nether..will you stop me warrior?"
"I will, and I will banish you fiend. You are trying to harm someone I care about..and for that..you will be destroyed." He removed what looked like an old tome from his pack on his shoulder. It glowed faintly green in Dristun's hands and radiated a powerful aura.
Koril watched on, confused as how Dristun was going to handle the demon. To her surprise, he began to intone in demonic. The incubus roared in outrage as faint chains formed around Linoge. The chains begain to move, through the mage's body and beyond. What it held was the nonmaterial essence of the incubus, safely removed from the host's body. Dristun spoke one sharp word of power, and the essence felt as if it split into a thousand pieces, scattering all about the chamber.
Linoge fell to the floor, but Koril could see him breathing from where she lay. He would survive this ordeal, whereas she still felt as weak as a newborn. She turned enough to look up as Dristun stepped close to her.
"It wants you Koril, it wants you to be it's mistress." She looked at Dristun confused at first, but then he knelt down and held out the book. As it neared, the aura around it became a red so dark it was almost black. As she took it, he explained that he had been a Cultist of the Damned at one point..and this artifact was one his brother had taken for the Forsaken. He believed it was written by his father, and as far as he could tell, was written completely in demonic. The book itself was powerful, but the spells and information inside were even more vauluable than sheer power. With this book, she could summon an infernal..a doomguard..any of the more powerful demons to do her bidding.
Koril held the tome close, it's power strengthening her enough to stand. Dristun took her hand, helping her up. "The mage will be alright, but you..need rest. And so do I, I am but a warrior, wielding the book takes a great deal out of me. Come, I will take you upstairs. Your mentors have one of the chambers prepared to sleep in and wish to speak to you about some..insane mage dashing through their power circle." He chuckled and looked back at Linoge, indicating that he was the mage that had done so. He started up the stairs to the chambers above, leaving Linoge to be found later on.
Koril stood for a moment, staring down at the tome. Quietly, in the back of her mind, whispers of thoughts chattered back and forth. "You could control the world with this tome..it is all powerful..it strengthens you even now.."
"Coming Koril?" Dristun called, banishing the thoughts that were not her own.
She nodded and headed for the stairs, clutching the tome ever tighter.
"Koril, may I see the Uor'Tal?" Dristun held out his hand as they stood in the middle of Goldshire. Leery as she was to bring it out in public, for the Uor'Tal contained powerful demonic spells and lore, she nevertheless removed the tome from her pack and handed it over. Koril's eyes never left the tome as her warrior companion explained it to a priestess, she barely heard when he spoke to her. Her thoughts were foggy and she felt weakened without it.
A sudden voice broke through the fog. "Spill her blood my son, spill it in my name." The priestess looked to Koril and Koril looked around. No one else had heard the voice except the three.
"Dristun, I believe you should give me back the Uor'Tal.." She edged closer, the fog starting to lift completely from her mind as she focused on the matter at hand. Carefully, she tried to grab the tome from Dristun, unsure of what exactly was going on.
Dristun turned on her, his eyes wild and feral. He snarled, "You do not command him, he is mine. My son, slay the priestess, spill her blood upon the stones! Terra Falla, slice her open!" The priestess took a few steps back, already casting a spell as he attempted to slice through her with his massive sword. His blade hit a barrier, the priestess had been smart and &#&$%ed a holy shield around herself. Frustrated, Dristun beat upon the shield with a fury Koril had never seen in him before, he was definately not himself.
The priestess was already in the midst of casting another spell, draining strength from Dristun before her shield failed and she took a hit, wincing. Koril watched on, waiting for an opportunity.
The warrior fell to his knees, finally, and Koril snatched the tome from him. As she did, she saw some of the fury drain from his face and she put the pieces together. "Dristun..you must never come in contact with the Uor'Tal again..it was controlling you."
"Nay, Koril..my father was controlling me through it.."
She had devoted all her free time to studying the Uor'Tal, unfortunately, she hadn't had a lot of free time lately. What she had managed to learn though, was the tome was written by Dristun's father, Verka the Blood Drinker. Verka had devoted his life to the study of demonic magic and creatures affected by it. There were studies on worgen, gnolls, orcs, the Scarlet Crusade, a lich or two, the Altar of Storms and even Arugal. The latter seemed to be a comrade of Verka's. She had also noticed that there were several pages missing, a good deal of them had been the more powerful spells, denoted by a demonic lock on the page. They looked to have been torn out..and recently..
She blinked, realizing what this likely meant. When Dristun had the tome, Verka must have commanded him to rip out pages of the Uor'Tal and keep them on his person. Through the pages, Verka could still control his son.
She frowned and closed her eyes, clearing her mind and breathing steadily. A new trick her mentors had taught her was how to seek out demonic energy. She had taken that a step further to denote the power of the energy taking place. If Dristun was still effectively providing as an avatar, Koril would find him through the shadow magic being weaved.
Her eyes flashed open, he wasn't far away. She carefully made sure to leave a small link to the energy, so she would be able to seek it on the move and called for Kalriel, her succubus. If anything was going to stop Dristun for even a few moments, it would only be another charm spell. The only one Koril had available was through her succubus's ability to seduce.
In a barn in Elwynn forest, she came upon a gruesome scene. A nightelf, whom she had never seen before, was pinned to the wall, by a sword through his shoulder...Dristun's sword.
"Dristun!" She hoped to gain his attention before he could further harm the elf. Her ploy worked, he turned towards her, the same fury in his eyes she had seen when he went against the priestess.
"Why do you follow me?" He snarled and wrenched the blade from the elf and wall, causing the former to groan and slump to the floor.
"You are not yourself Dristun. He is still controlling you..I think I can fix it..if you allow me to." She stared at him hard, hoping against hope that he would be able to break the spell of his own willpower, for she was unsure whether she had the knowledge or power to do it herself.
"I am in control, stop telling me what to do."
"You nearly killed the elf!" Koril knelt next to the still wounded elf, trying to offer him a small green stone. The elf pushed it away.
"Aye, and I would've finished it if you hadn't come along." Heavy footsteps sounded on the floorboards of the barn, someone wearing platemail. Koril looked to the source of the noise and narrowed her eyes in frustration.
"Demon dog, step away!" The paladin advanced upon Koril, his axe dangerously close. Koril stepped back, not wishing to become some good deed on a paladin's to do list.
"Adrian.." The elf whispered, "Glad you got my message.." The paladin, Adrian, knelt before the elf.
"Almost looks like I didn't make it in time, Rangorr." Adrian quickly healed the wound as Dristun made his exit, dropping a piece of paper as he left. Koril scooped up the paper and immediately recognized the demonic lock.
Not wishing to tempt the paladin further, Koril hastily made her exit as well. She tucked the page into the Uor'Tal before stalking off into the night, following the trail of carnage Dristun left in his wake.
It had been a long trek, but Koril managed to track Dristun to Loch Modan. She found him there, slaughtering ogres, generally enjoying the blood he spilled. She confronted him again, before he could cleave another ogre in two with the sword he called Terra Falla.
"Dristun..I know you still have pages of the Uor'Tal, you must give them up to me. You are becoming reckless and I'm worried that you're only going to hurt yourself." She stood her ground, staring him down. He was a warrior, all muscle and chainmail with a massive sword. If she didn't keep on her toes, she'd likely end up like the ogres.
"Terra Falla..feast upon the flesh of this idiot!" He cried as he lunged. Koril immediately began casting, the shadowbolt she threw at him barely phasing the bloodcrazed warrior. The sword sliced cleanly through her robe, a deep gash across her chest. The wound gave her an idea.
As quickly as she could, she knelt, making sure the wound and blood dripping from it still were visible. "Dristun.." She prayed it worked. "Dristun..fight it, get control." The blade was a hair's breadth from her neck, yet he stopped.
"Koril..?" He looked confused until he saw the wound, and knelt to try to help. She waved him off, producing a healing potion from her robe pocket, swallowing it in one swig. The blood loss stopped, though it left her a bit dizzy, and the wound started to close, leaving nothing but a scar.
"I'll be fine. Dristun, you still have pages of the Uor'Tal, do you not?" He nodded. "Your father is controlling you through them, he must have had you tear them out for that reason. Give them back." Looking ashamed, Dristun produced the missing pages.
"I still feel the bloodlust, Koril. It's my family curse.." She smiled a bit at him and nodded.
"Then we will have to make sure he never tries this again, won't we?"
Once again, she studied the Uor'Tal in the peace of a darkened room. It gave clues as to where Verka, Dristun's father, had been and where he might still be. She read through numerous mentions of Arugal and figured that would be the best place to start. She heard footsteps on the stairs, and a very distracted Dristun met her gaze.
"Where do we head?" He glanced about the room she preferred for her studies, she noted his slight distaste as she climbed down off the crates.
"To Shadowfang Keep, we need to have a chat with Arugal." She smirked, she had been meaning to see what the shadow mage had been "experimenting" with anyways.
"We will need help.." He glanced around the room once more, then met her gaze and arched a brow.
"I think I know of one that would be glad to help."
Mikoto was one of the more intelligent mages Koril had ever met. She still had a flare for life and learning, even though she looked a bit old herself. She also had a flare for vengence, and Arugal happened to be one of the targets. The mage led the way into the Keep, slaughtering everything that stood in her path. Nothing stood in Mikoto's way, in fact, some scampered away in fear of her. Koril aided now and then, but it wasn't really neccessairy, so she was free to look around.
At last, they came to Arugal's chamber, the shadow mage glared across the expanse at them from the other platform. Mikoto laughed, a cold sound.
"Remember me, Arugal?" With that, she blasted him with a huge fireball. The shadowmage still stood, but not for long. Fireball after fireball was flung at him, with a few of Koril's shadowbolts thrown in as well. Finally, Arugal fell, his skin burned beyond recognition. His robes and belt, both magical, remained intact.
They crossed the expanse after battling what remained of Arugal's "sons". Koril claimed the belt of the shadow mage, and while seeing if anything worthwhile was in his pockets, came across a scrap of paper. The paper was torn, but enough of it was readable that she could easily see that it was a page from the Uor'Tal.
"Have you gotten what you came for?" Mikoto grinned, obviously knowing the truth.
"Aye..the shadow mage may not have wanted to chat, but this will say much more." With that, she placed the page in the Uor'Tal and followed Mikoto through the arcane portal.
Koril didn’t understand what was going on anymore. She had been moody lately; mostly jealous and upset…both feelings were draining. She constantly wanted to just fall asleep, but there was work to be done. Resting, even for short periods of time, was barely an option.
“Dristun, something’s wrong. I’ve been feeling drained lately, of all energy. My spells are an effort to cast; controlling my minions is beyond taxing.” She pointed at Maajhom, her newly acquired felhunter. “Maajhom here I summoned hours ago, and I can just barely control him.” In truth, it was an effort to even stand, but she needed information. Quickly, she sat down in the cool grass beneath the huge tree. It had become her favorite place to rest, just next to the tavern. If she was needed, she could be found, but it tended to be quieter outside than in.
“I believe I can explain that Koril.” He looked down at her, seeming concerned. “The Uor’Tal feeds off emotions; it’s one of the ways it’s powered.”
“If it feeds off emotions, then how do I feel empowered with it sometimes, but completely drained during others?” She arched a brow at him, her usual questioning look.
“If you are happy or angry, the powerful emotions, it will feed off them and feed the power back to you. Though if you are upset…” He let it trail off, but she finished the sentence for him.
“It will drain the emotions, but have nothing to give back…So I become drained as well.” Koril frowned, this wasn’t good at all. The jealousy had arisen when she had caught Dristun with another woman, but not because she loved him. It was more as if she felt slightly betrayed. He had become a close friend, though a relationship was never possible, nor would she allow it. Her past saw to that.
“You must learn to control your emotions, Koril, or you will be weakened like this quite often.” He looked up through the leaves of the tree to the sun, squinting slightly. “I must leave for a time, I have business in Ratchet. You should get some rest, you look exhausted.” Koril nodded as he strode off towards the city, she leaned back against the tree and relaxed.
She didn’t know how long she had slept, but it must have been a few hours at least, the sun was dipping down low in the sky. Luckily, Maajhom was still beside her. Even though he was still slightly untamed, he had become her favorite by far. He was excellent for scaring pesky mages off, even fellow warlocks. All except one…
“Koril, it’s not safe for you to sleep out here like this.” Linoge grinned a bit at her. “C’mon, I’ll take you to the Inn where you can get some proper rest.” He looked to Maajhom, “nice doggy.”
She grumbled a bit but got up, and started to follow. The rest had revived her enough that she was feeling a bit stronger, but she felt the need to clear her head. Her emotions were getting the better of her, and it wasn’t helping.
“Lin, I’ll be fine… I don’t want to go back to sleep, I just need a drink.”
“If you insist,” he said as they entered the inn/tavern. It was loud as usual, but Linoge managed to squeeze up to the barkeep and order a couple of drinks. After exchanging some coin, they took the drinks outside.
“Why do you look so strained?” He took a sip of his mead. “You look as if you haven’t gotten sleep in days.”
Koril sighed a bit; he was always asking too many questions. It was getting a bit on her nerves. “It’s a long story, which I’d rather tell another time.” He nodded, accepting the excuse readily and began to tell tales of his most recent travels. Of course, she merely nodded and made the occasional “mm” noise as she drank her own mead. It was potent, and Koril, being a lightweight, went under its influences quite quickly.
Giggling, she took one of the torn pages out of the Uor’Tal as she spotted a familiar suit of armor walking out of the forge. She nudged Linoge, who was also quite drunk after having gone in and gotten more mead, and pointed at Dristun.
“Watch this!” She got up, trotting over to Dristun and handing him the torn page.
“Koril? Have you been drinking?” Dristun frowned a bit before taking the page, “what’s this?” She giggled again and then walked back to the tree where Linoge sat waiting.
Dristun looked down at the page, and when he looked up again, a feral gleam was in his eyes. He stalked over to where they sat, smirked, and grabbed Koril by the throat, lifting her to her feet. “I felt it was appropriate to thank you, Koril.” Her mind quickly sobered up with the thought of mortal peril while Linoge continued to babble on, his voice slurred.
Her hands clawed at his, but he felt no affect. He kicked Maajhom hard in the side as the hound attempted to defend his mistress, forcing the felhound to flee back to the Nether. She could barely breathe, so spell casting was of no use. He dragged her away from the trees, to a small clearing with nothing but a few crates and barrels, which he threw her down upon. Wincing, she stayed down, not wishing to agitate him further.
“Get up.” Growling, he pulled the massive sword from his back. It was a fearsome sight, but she knew her folly and knew it was going to cost her her life. She refused to give him what he wanted.
“No.” She glared up defiantly, “I know what’s coming Verka, and yes, I know that’s you. Kill me and get it over with.” He laughed a bit, re-sheathing the sword to his back.
“I have some honor, little warlock. I will not kill those who would go so willingly to death.” He smirked as she got up to her knees, her eyes full of suspicion. “So instead I will show you why I am doing this. I will show you what you face, and why, you too, are just a pawn.”
Lightening quick, he snagged the Uor’Tal from her pack and flipped it open to a page, seemingly a page he knew well. He began the spell, a soft demonic chant as the world blackened around them. It was not a portal settling over them, Koril could still feel the crates beneath her. More like her own Eye, she was seeing something far away. The being radiated such power she almost screamed, she could almost feel the flames licking at her clothes in this fiery hell.
“That, little warlock, is Ragnaros, my Master, and likely to be yours as well. The Scourge, the demons, the cults…they all come back to him in some way. They all fall into his grand scheme.” Koril took it all in, but kept her outward expressions decidedly neutral. He had cast a spell she had read before in the Uor’Tal, it was one of the more powerful ones, and he had cast it as easy as breathing…
“So what now, Verka? You can read your son’s thoughts, I’m quite sure. You know we mean to destroy you. Will you continue to seek a new avatar?” She hissed out the words as the vision dissipated from around them.
He laughed, deep and menacing, looking her straight in the eyes. She could feel him leaving Dristun somehow, as if she were connected to him. Just as the last of the fury started to leave his eyes, he spoke, quietly, grinning all the while:
“Yes, you will do perfectly little warlock…”
Koril didn’t know exactly what happened next. All she remembered was the fury building in her at the thought of becoming Verka’s pawn. She wouldn’t stand for it, she couldn’t. She refused to be used again.
And now she was lying flat on her back, three faces staring down at her. Her chest was numb, and she was clutching the Uor’Tal as if it was the last thing in the world. She looked up to the faces, wondering what they were staring at. She noted Linoge was being supported by Ragnorr, the elf she had saved from Dristun’s blood fury. Linoge’s shirt had a circular hole in it; the skin through the hole was blackened, as if he’d been hit from a fireball. Dristun, too, was staring down at her, a look of relief on his face.
“Koril? Get up.” He offered her his hand so she would have an easier time standing. It was darker out than she remembered; some time had to have passed. How much was the question…
“What happened?” She glanced between the three of them, and noticed they were staring at her chest. She looked down and saw she was bleeding from a large gash. “And why am I bleeding…?” She felt kind of stupid asking it, but she honestly didn’t know.
“You got in a fight with a paladin; we had to come rescue you. His axe cut you pretty deep.” Dristun replied as Ragnorr nodded, producing some vials of healing potion from a belt pouch. Koril quickly drank them down, hoping it was enough to stop the bleeding at least. It was more than enough, the wound closed, leaving nothing but a long scar and a hole in her shirt.
“And what about Linoge there?” Koril looked to Dristun, arching a brow before looking to Linoge.
“He called you weak.” Rangorr supplied. “So you threw a shadow bolt at him to prove who was weak.” The elf shrugged, as if it was nothing of consequence. She frowned at him as he pushed Linoge’s arm off from his shoulders.
“I need to be off to Ironforge,” Dristun suddenly stated, as if he was in a hurry to get out of the area. “You should get some rest Koril.” He nodded to the three and then strode off towards the road to Stormwind.
“Aye…I should…if you two will excuse me.” She didn’t feel like sticking around for idle chit chat, her head hurt, and her chest was still sore. She felt as if she’d been kicked several times in the ribs. So she turned, and immediately headed for her room in the inn. It was quiet, for a change, which suited her perfectly.
She removed her torn, bloodstained shirt carefully; some pieces were still sticking to her chest. It’s then that she noticed…the scar matched the one Dristun had given her before. It was his blade that had cut her, not some unnamed paladin. The memories of what happened came flooding back in bits and pieces.
The power was exhilarating, fulfilling and she intended to use every ounce of it to her advantage. She defeated Linoge, laughing in his face, if Dristun hadn’t tapped her on the back with his sword, she would’ve killed him then and there. She turned to face her new foe, her eyes dark with glee at the power surging through her.
The Uor’Tal was glowing a blinding black in her hands, her spells came as simple as thought. She flung a shadow bolt at Dristun as he advanced, laughing as it ignored his armor, splattering against his skin. He still came on, his expression dark and determined, but she didn’t care. She was giddy, she was powerful, and that’s all that mattered.
“I will not give you the tome, weakling, you do not deserve it!” Koril spat as she hurled another shadow bolt at him. He winced this time, but still came on.
“Don’t make me do this Koril…get control; I know you’re still in there.” He slashed at her, a powerful stroke that she leapt back from, the blade whizzing harmlessly by. She grinned as fire came to her mind, yes…this one would endure searing pain.
Dristun’s armor began to heat up as her spell took affect, but the flames themselves didn’t seem to affect him. She shrugged and threw another bolt; at least those affected him nicely. He lunged, his blade cutting through her shirt and flesh in her chest, sending her stumbling back. Rangorr tripped her, ensuring she’d land on her back. Her head hit the ground hard, causing her to grunt in pain. The power was starting to lessen a bit; she urged more of it into herself.
The elf stepped on her hand that held the Uor’Tal as Dristun stooped down to pick it up. She immediately felt weaker as the tome was taken from her grasp. The pain overwhelmed her, nearly causing her to black out, yet she clung to consciousness in hopes that she should get her precious power source back.
The former Cultist of the Damned began to chant, his words a blend of demonic and some language she didn’t recognize. The green glow the Uor’Tal had taken on dissipated slowly, but not completely. Koril cried out, fearing for the tome, and kicked at Dristun’s shins. He easily avoided the kick, while the elf was quicker, sending a painful few kicks to her ribs. She curled up tight, biting down on her lower lip to keep from crying out in pain.
The spell finished, and the tome was dropped beside her. It still glowed a faint blackish red when she reached out to it, but it felt different. She glanced up at Dristun for an explanation.
“I’ve temporarily closed Verka’s connection to the tome, he will be back, but hopefully you’ll be better able to control yourself.” He glared down at her as she pulled the Uor’Tal close. In a moment, she passed out from the combined stress of the power surges and the pain.
Koril growled softly to herself as she paced her inn room. Dristun had lied to her, she didn’t appreciate that. She was going to have to find him…and make absolutely sure he knew the price of deceiving her. Her anger flared, as it did, so did the blackish red light that surrounded the demonic tome.
It was turning out to be another beautiful day in Goldshire, but she didn’t notice. Her mood was dark, her anger riled from previous events. She toyed with a small dagger she had purchased near the town. It wasn’t the best, but it would make someone bleed well enough as long as she could get close. She was on the border of another power surge; barely controlling it. Her mind drifted as she leaned on Maajhom underneath the huge tree beside the inn. Dristun had broke her trust, Linoge had as well when he forced her to do the spell upon him, they both made her furious.
Maajhom growled, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked to the direction he stared, and there stood one of the objects of her current hatred: Linoge. She grinned down at Maajhom, patting him on one of his horns as his tentacles waved playfully over her head. She got up and bade him to stay, almost skipping over to Linoge, a feral grin on her face; the dagger concealed in her sleeve.
“Linoge, I have something to tell you!” Koril called as he spotted her in the throng of people. It was the simplest ploy she could come up with, and surprisingly it worked. He looked eager to see her, so she got close as if to whisper what she wanted to say in his ear.
He grunted, staring wide eyed at her then down at the dagger hilt protruding from his stomach. She smirked, and twisted it viciously before letting go. He dropped to the ground, bleeding heavily and breathing raggedly. His eyes blazed in hate and betrayal as she laughed.
“Come Maajhom.” She called; the felhound came running to her side. She started to walk away, towards the forest, but glanced over her shoulder once more, getting a final chuckle at Linoge.
Koril returned to Goldshire after the sun was starting to set, expecting to find it empty. Surprisingly, it was packed as ever before. She was still in the midst of the power surge, and would be, she assumed, until she found Dristun. The odd thing was, she was seeing everything clearly this time, but was sure with absolute knowledge she’d remember none of it till long after.
Her throat was parched, as Maajhom and she had been out hunting themselves into exhaustion before they decided to return. The barkeep always had a good supply of mead behind the counter, which she purchased for a few silver. She took her drink outside where Maajhom waited, and almost dropped it laughing. There stood Linoge, glaring fiercely at her.
Taking a swig of her mead, she arched a brow at him and asked “You just don’t die, do you?” He shook his head, continuing his glare.
“Something’s wrong with you Koril, it’s that tome isn’t it?”
The statement made her want to laugh more, but instead she looked down to her mug, tracing her finger around the rim; ignoring the question completely. “Linoge, do you know what Maajhom is?” She paused, and when he didn’t answer she continued, still looking at her mug. “Maajhom is a felhound, Linoge. They feed on magic…” She let the thought sit for a moment, and then looked at him, a vicious grin upon her face.
Linoge started backing up as she did laugh this time. “Coward,” she spat. The entire situation, in her power surge, was extremely hilarious. She knew she could kill him if she wanted, but it was much more amusing to toy with him.
He stopped back peddling, his face going cold. “Koril, what’s the matter with you? I don’t want to do this…but I will to protect myself.” He conjured a fireball, letting it float a few inches off the palm of his hand, ready to throw it. The situation had gone from toying, to serious. Koril didn’t like it.
She started backing up, getting out of his throwing range quickly. Her back slammed into something hard, but giving. She glanced up, looking at Kordel – one of the highlords of the Eyes – and had to contain the smirk: things just got interesting. Kordel had no love for the mage, and it was well known that he protected his own like a bear with her cubs.
“Linoge, you coward. You wish to face me, so be it!” Koril marched forward, the words to a spell forming on her lips. Kordel followed, quickly getting between her and the mage.
“Mage, I suggest you leave this lady alone, if you wish to retain your head.” Kordel’s voice held the ring of truth; he would cleave Linoge’s head from his shoulders without a thought. Koril smirked over his shoulder at Linoge.
“I think you should take his head, m’lord. He’s been nothing but a nuisance.” She added casually, watching the mage’s eyes widen in fear. He knew Kordel would do as he said if he didn’t get out of the area quickly.
“I agree Koril.” Kordel unsheathed his sword, a massive, fiery blade, as he stepped closer to Linoge.
Linoge wisely retreated, giving Koril a look with his eyes that promised he would return when she was alone. She chuckled under her breath.
“Another time, Linoge…another time.”
Koril was returning to Goldshire after an exhausting day. She had managed to finally reach Doan, the powerful mage in Scarlet Monastery. It was obvious by the Uor’Tal that he would hold another piece of the missing pages. And indeed he had. Tired yet excited, she rushed about, looking for Dristun. She finally spotted him, outside the inn, under her favorite tree.
“Dristun!” She called to him, “I found another piece of the pages.” She stopped in front of him, pulling the torn page from the Uor’Tal, handing it to him.
“Useless.” He spat, staring at the page. Slowly, the ink started to disappear upon the page, and it crumbled to dust in his hands. He then took the Uor’Tal from her, snatching it out of her hands. She frowned.
“What’s wrong with you? You seem irritated…” He grinned viciously as her voice trailed off. Removing the sword from the sheath upon his back, he dropped the tome to the ground and stabbed it in the center. She gasped, and it took her a moment to realize the sword was not actually harming the tome; it was through it, as if it didn’t exist. The runes on the blade were glowing a fierce red.
She growled, furious that he had stolen her tome, almost upon another of her power rages. Without the tome, it did not come though. She felt weakened almost without it. “Give it back!” She yelled at him as he laughed, picking up the tome and holding it out to her.
“It seems you’ve grown rather attached to that tome it seems, Koril. It’s been feeding you, corrupting you. You need its power, don’t you?” Dristun sneered at her as she grabbed the edge of the tome. “Then we shall share it…” He began chanting in a blend of demonic and an old, forgotten language. Koril felt a surge, power from the tome…it was flowing between them, into both of them. He laughed wickedly; it was too much for her.
“No…” Koril, in her last moments of true sanity, knew what was to become of her now. She would be in a constant power rage; the slightest insult would have her in a killing frenzy. Then her mind fogged over, the power that had been force fed to her caused her to laugh. She felt glorious, as if she could move mountains with but a thought.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Dristun held out the tome still, offering it back to her.
“It feels wonderful…”
It had been at least a week since Koril had been force fed the power of the Uor’Tal. She kept hearing Verka’s voice in her mind, trying to command her…but she was strong enough to ignore it. She had the power to do as she wished, she wasn’t about to bow to anyone. Not Verka, not Dristun, nor Kordel or any of the Highlords of the Eyes of Chaos. This power, however forced upon her, was hers and hers alone.
How easy it was to fool others. She kept her spells tempered, her attitude docile, and they all fell for it. She was just the sweet, innocent seeming warlock they had all known. She, in particular, enjoyed fooling the rogue known as Daelin. He preached to her about enlightenment, and she pretended to be a good pupil.
It was because of this that he decided to escort her back to Southshore from another expedition into the Scarlet Monastery. She was amused by his chivalry, but he could become a nuisance to her plans. He would be dealt with…eventually.
She was surprised to see Dristun in Southshore, as if he was waiting for her. The look on his face told her he needed to speak. She shrugged off Daelin, explaining a need for privacy, and dragged Dristun down to the basement of the inn.
“What? What is it you need?” She asked in a hushed, irritated voice. Dristun was a pawn of Verka, while she might be fed by his power, she herself was free.
A voice whispered in her head, urging her to give Dristun the Uor’Tal. He held out his hands as if he heard it as well. She shook her head, as if trying to physically shake the voice loose.
“I will not give you the Uor’Tal…it is mine, forever!” She pressed back against the large kegs of ale, glaring fiercely at him. He stepped closer, grinning wickedly.
“If you do not give him the Uor’Tal, child, I will hurt you in ways you will never recover from.” Verka’s voice spoke through Dristun’s mouth. Verka knew he had lost control of Koril; he barely had it in the first place. He wanted his tome back and desperately.
“If you touch her, you will die by my hand.” A voice from nowhere spoke. She had seen this tactic before, it was favored by Daelin. Verka laughed, looking around while advancing on Koril further.
“She is mine rogue, and she knows it well. She knows what will happen if she does not obey me.” He froze suddenly, as a line of blood welled from the blade pressed to his throat. It only caused him to laugh further. He sidestepped the blade, guessing correctly as to Daelin’s position, and grabbed for Koril, tossing her upon the kegs of ale with a heavy thud. “The tome or the incubus is released!”
She managed to get up a little and look him in the eye. “No…never.” She hissed, “It’s mine now.”
With that, Dristun – and Verka by default – vanished, returning to Stormwind. Koril pulled the Uor’Tal from her pack, holding it close as she sat up on the kegs. She glanced about the basement. “You can show yourself now rogue.”
Daelin seemed to appear from nowhere just as Dristun had vanished. She knew it was merely a trick of his, being a rogue he was trained to use the shadows to his advantage. He sheathed his blade and stepped closer, eying the tome with some sense of wariness.
“Koril, what’s going on here?”
“That…was Verka the blood drinker. He seeks me because he wrote this, and empowered it.” She glanced down at the tome.
“Then you should be rid of it.”
She narrowed her eyes and looked at him. “I see why you would say that, rogue. You feel the power of it as well. You want it for yourself! You cannot have it, I won’t let you. It’s mine, all mine.” She clutched it tighter, glaring at him.
“I want nothing to do with that tome.” Koril blinked, frowning a bit.
“You don’t?” She felt confused as her rage subsided, the danger to the tome gone.
“No, I’ve seen what it’s done to you. You’ve gone power mad, Koril. Toss it aside, you don’t need it. You’re strong enough on your own.” She frowned deeper as he spoke, his words bringing something bubbling up in her mind, something distant yet familiar.
It was gone in a flash as Verka’s voice sounded in her head. “You have five minutes to give me the tome, child. Which crypt in Stormwind holds my true remains…hrm, I wonder? Will you find me in time?” He laughed. “Perhaps I shall release the incubus now…or perhaps I will put it in Dristun, and let him be a host.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Daelin’s voice sounded distant, a sudden pounding in resounded through her entire body. She felt severely weakened, as if something was being drained from her. It almost felt as if one of her own spells was being turned upon her. She glanced down at the Uor’Tal…it was slowly losing its normal reddish black glow.
Her eyes opened in a flash as she realized what was really going on. Her head pounding, she looked to Daelin, the first person she was able to recognize as bringing to the surface her old self. The one who sought power, but not to wield it to frighten and intimidate, but to help herself…
“Daelin…Verka is draining the tome of its power…and I think it’s taking from me as well…” Daelin wasted no time, helping her down from the kegs and into a comfortable seat upon the floor. He stood behind her and rested his palms lightly upon her shoulders.
“Koril, I need you to close your eyes and breathe deeply.” She frowned for a moment, not understanding how this was going to help, but did as was asked. She was starting to put a little trust into him. After all, here was a perfect opportunity to lay her low, yet he hadn’t.
She was feeling weaker by the moment; it was hard to concentrate only on her breathing. She could hear Verka laughing in her head, taunting her as Daelin began to knead her shoulders. He whispered instructions to her, keeping her calm and focused. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was able to stop the flow from herself to Verka. She was no longer connected to him now that the Uor’Tal was completely drained of its power and she was glad of it.
She offered Daelin the tome, but he refused, saying it must be destroyed in a proper manner, not passed off to another safe bearer. She nodded, almost slumping over in exhaustion, she he helped her up the stairs to a room for the night.
The next day, she was able to find Dristun. He looked as weakened as she, but in better spirits. His rages were also gone. Immediately, they both knew the other was alright.
“Dristun, we are free!” Koril exclaimed. She still felt the hunger for the power, the craving, but it was able to be held at bay, so she was as free as ever.
“Aye…we are free.”
Koril sat on the ground in front of the small pool in the Forlorn Cavern of Ironforge, occasionally tossing a stone into its undisturbed depths to watch the ripples. Cause and effect, she thought. For every action there is a reaction, whether good or bad, small or large. If I toss another stone into the pool, the pool will ripple, forever changing ever so slightly the erosion on the rocks surround it. She scowled slightly, and tossed another stone into the pool with a large splash as she reviewed the causes and effects affecting her at the moment.
If I had listened to my parents, I would have never become a warlock and shunned from their home. If I hadn’t become a warlock, I would’ve never summoned the incubus. If I hadn’t summoned the incubus, I would never have become afraid. If I hadn’t become afraid, I would’ve never hungered for the power that made me feel strong again. And if I had never hungered for that power, I wouldn’t be where I am today…a shell of what I could’ve been.
She paused for a moment in her mental ramblings. If I hadn’t become corrupted by the Uor’Tal, I never would have met Daelin… She frowned slightly at that thought. One good thing out of all the bad. Even though it is the most wonderful thing of all…
She shook her head slightly, as if to clear her thoughts. It’s no use dwelling on what’s happened, it’s best to learn from it, and continue forward. It’s time to stop running, turn around, and do something about this mess. She tossed another stone into the pool, this time a bit more gently than the last. It’s time I made sure my fears never become truth, and it’s time to make amends with myself at least.
She heard footsteps upon the stone but didn’t look up. There were many who passed by this way, some rushing along on business, others just meandering about. It wasn’t until the figure sat down next to her that she knew who it was.
“Well, well.” Daelin chuckled softly as he settled comfortably upon the stone. He gave her his usual arrogant grin which she was so fond of, but even that didn’t lift her spirits.
She smiled halfheartedly at him, “hello hotshot.” His grin disappeared a little as he turned his head to look her in the eyes.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Something’s always wrong,” she retorted.
“Then tell me about it.” His voice held some force, it was his job to get information from people, and he was good at it. She couldn’t have refused telling him even if she wanted to.
She sighed softly, tossing the last stone that was near her into the pond as she avoided his gaze by watching the ripples. “I...I can’t keep doing this Dae, I can’t keep being a warlock…” She made it sound so simple, as if that was that, and it didn’t seem he needed any further explanation.
Daelin nodded at her. “I see two options then, Koril. You can retain the majority of your powers, but use them against the demons instead of with them. Fight fire with fire. With your knowledge of them, and your spells, they wouldn’t stand a chance.” She frowned slightly at that, but he continued. “Or…I can gather up a few dozen priests I know, and they can remove the demonic influence from you completely.”
Her curiosity was peaked at that, her brow arched and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “That can be done?” It sounded impossible…
He nodded once again. “I’ve seen this coming for quite some time Koril. The research and most of the preparations needed for the ritual are already done. But it’s dangerous, and you likely won’t survive it. If you do, you will be greatly weakened.” He spoke in a matter of fact tone and she digested this information quietly for a few moments.
“I became a warlock because I was afraid, Daelin. And now, because of my warlockery, I’m still afraid. It’s time for me to stop running. To be rid of the power that could destroy me? It’s worth the risk.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close in a comforting manner. “I…I just don’t know what I’d do afterwards…how would I fight? How would I defend myself? I know a little of daggers and I’m not strong enough to lift a sword…”
“You could be taught.” His tone suggested he had something more in mind than just that, so she pressed the issue further.
“Who would have the patience to train one that’s never had to lift a finger to defend herself?” She scowled a bit.
“Someone who loves you very much Koril.” She turned her head to stare at him, a look of surprise on her face. The faintest hint of a hidden smirk was on his features as he continued. “It’s about time I took on an apprentice and I could always use a sidekick.” The smirk came out in full now as he couldn’t hold it back any longer.
“You would train me?” She reached up and mussed up his hair, grinning a little.
“If you are willing to learn,” was his only reply. She reached into her sleeve, pulling out the small dagger she always kept hidden there, balancing the blade on one finger alone as she smirked smugly at him, determination in her eyes.
“I will learn.”
Duskwood, it was always covered in almost a haze, an unsettling feeling lay over the entire area. The residents had learned the hard way to always be on the alert, even in their sleep. It was never known when the undead might attack the town. The Night Watch kept an eye out for such attacks, but they couldn’t catch them all.
Amorit traveled down the road, on edge and alert for any creatures looking for an easy kill. She had lived here for 20 years, but that hadn’t made her complacent of the dangers. Her destination was a small house near Deadwind pass, it had been where she lived, and had only left a week ago. She needed some belongings she had left in the home, and hoped it hadn’t been ransacked already.
Her long red hair was pulled back from her face, hanging down her back in a tail as her inquisitive eyes scanned the bushes along the road. The eyes in the bushes, always there were eyes in the bushes in Duskwood, but one never knew if they were a squirrel or a skeleton. Movement out of the corner of her eye, she spun, a fireball thrown in a second…and roasted a rat that had been nosing about a decaying corpse.
Shaking her head, she continued down the stone covered path towards Darkshire. The lights from the town flickered even in the dead of night, another sign that the inhabitants had grown used to another kind of life. The Night Watch on guard patrolling the roads just outside the town eyed her, the weary lines on their faces showed they hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in some time. She nodded, and continued on her way. Past the town center and up the road near the pass, stopping at the last house just before the pass.
There was light coming from the windows, which caused her to frown. Had her childhood home already been taken over? Curious, she knocked on the door. A man who looked older than he likely was opened the door and arched a brow.
“You have some nerve coming here at this time of night. You must not know this place well. Well, now that you’re here, what do you want?” The man scowled down at her, looking like he was about to slam the door shut.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but this used to be my home, I left some things here I need to retrieve…” The man stopped her mid-explanation.
“Your name?” Was all he asked.
“Amorit Bein'Llach.” She replied curtly.
“I’m sorry ma’am, I’ve lived here for thirty years now…and I’ve never heard of that family name in my life.” Amorit stared at him, at such a blatant lie.
“You must be mistaken sir, for my parents lived here, and I lived here for twenty years. They were killed a year ago in an undead attack.” She tried hard to be polite, but she disliked those who lied to her.
“I am not mistaken ma’am, I’ve lived here as long as I can remember. I think it is you who may be mistaken, perhaps you have the wrong house. You should check with the town clerk, he keeps records on all who live and die here…including those who continue on after they die.” He added the last part grimly, nodded to her, and shut the door in her face.
Clenching her fists, she turned and stalked back to the town, specifically the town hall. The clerk was still awake, going over some records in his study, when she entered. He glanced up at her, and arched a brow, waiting for her to state her business.
“The Bein’Llach house, where is it?” She frowned at herself, feeling stupid for having to ask where her own home was.
He frowned deeply and set aside his records. “Ma’am, I can tell you with utmost confidence that no one by that name has ever lived in Duskwood. In fact, I’ve never heard that name in my life, nor have I ever seen it in the records.” She almost lost control then, the wisps of a fireball forming in her palm, but she snuffed it out quickly.
“That’s impossible, I’ve lived here all my life. I recently moved to Stormwind to start my mage training after my parents died.”
“The records do not lie, ma’am. The family known as Bein’Llach has never lived in Duskwood.” He shook his head, dismissing her as if she was some sort of lunatic. Confused, and frightened, she turned and hurried out of the town, to the small graveyard where her parents had been laid to rest.
She searched the engraved headstones, seeking the one with her family name upon it, her parents’ names. She searched for hours, until she finally sat down in the cemetery, staring blankly at the headstone in front of her, some person she didn’t know.
“What in the world is going on?” She asked the headstones. “It’s like my parents never existed…”