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.
Posted by Koril at 01:11 PM 16 May 2005