Svetlaena
12-14-2008, 10:34 AM
((I didn't plan anything for after this but I left it open anyway because I know there are a lot of creative people here, and it'd be a treat to work with them. If it happens it happens and I will continue the flow.
Also I wrote this hastily in about an hour and didn't edit, polish, or even reread.))
Svetlaena never liked large, open battles much. So much chaos. But here it was a million times worse. The Nether swirled around them, and she could feel the intensity of the magic floating in the very air, both fueling and feeding from the tumultuous fighting.
The Light is… almost faint here. In Shattrath it’s nearly tangible but the darkness and despair of this place have let little shine through.
She could see it reflected in her spells. The Light was fleeting, hard to grasp, even harder to direct to keep her comrades from falling on the battlefield. But the Shadow kept tempting her with its use. Just watching and mending… it’s no fun, is it, it whispered to her, its twisted energies wafting to and fro, all around, like mischievous whelplings.
Suddenly the skirmish for the tower post had ended and she was throwing herself astride Azureplume, her hawkstrider, and following along, a Tauren druid sticking close to her behind the front line. The road looked clear of the Alliance, a Blood Knight who had been rallying the forces issued the call, and they were off.
No one noticed when she fell off of Azureplume, crashing to the ground hard on her right shoulder. The stupid beast continued to run with the group, and the whole mass of them disappeared over the deep purple ridge. The sound of hooves, talons and paws faded out into the resounding strikes of lightning streaking across the Nether sky.
Senselessly, the priestess floundered about on the stone, unsure of which way was up or down but trying nevertheless to get up. Once to her knees, something struck—painful, swift, on the side of her neck. Her hand was on her dagger, but her muscles wouldn’t respond. They ached, protested, kept still despite her will to live.
Was that Kal’dorei there a moment ago?
Of course he was. She knew it as soon as he revealed himself. He’d been watching them, waiting for them to come down the road… possibly even waiting for a healer specifically, to separate her from the front lines that so desperately needed her. A look on his face nothing short of devilish, he was inches from her in a flash, smirking, about to strike. Bold, she thought. Too much so. And it would cost him.
Black energy swirled around her fingers and the spell left her lips before his blade could fall and he stumbled back, face racked with agony and fumbling to regain himself. Svetlaena was on her feet by the time he looked back to her, standing tall, gathering Light between her hands this time. The rogue couldn’t avoid the spurt of fire that blossomed below him, pillaring into the sky, but he could tough it out.
When the holy light faded he was gone, and she heard words in a strange tongue being spoken behind her before a dagger sliced across her back and left arm. She couldn’t even cry out before he cut her again, and all she could do was begin channeling healing energy into herself to stop the warm, sickeningly copious flow. When the blade came down a third time it stopped with a ‘chink’ against a shimmering barrier of light, and the injured enemies got back from one another, panting for breath in a standoff that lasted only seconds.
Svetlaena let the rogue charge at her, staying rooted to her piece of ground, her entire body shaking with pain and shock. The Shadows felt soothing as she gathered them to her. A fire burned in both their eyes. It was no longer about resources, land, power, Kings or Warchiefs, Horde or Alliance. It didn’t matter how or why they were even there. It was two elves that knew only one of them would come out of this meeting alive.
She should have seen it coming. She had actually believed his feign. A rogue make a forward charge like that? Not their territory. So she fell for one trick, she wouldn’t fall for the next one that was to come. She let the small amount of Light in her control disperse in a contained burst, showering a good radius around her in luminescent shimmers, while at the same time turning on her heel. It was just in time to witness a streak of surprise cross his face before he disappeared again. Taking her chance, she gathered the Light around her hands once more, trying to squeeze just a little more of her own energy into it than she had before.
Just a little more force should do it. Even now my Shadows eat away at him.
She released the energy with a scream as a blade sunk into her back, just under the ribs. But as soon as it was there, it was gone, and so was the rogue, over a rocky ledge. Then came a thud, and a grotesque ‘crack’.
It was a few moments before Svetlaena could move, trying to heal herself all the while. It would only do so much; she would probably have to see a doctor about this one, and she knew it. The bleeding wouldn’t stop or even slow for what felt like an eternity, though all her energies were pouring into the effort. Still on hands and knees, she scooted closer to the edge the Night Elf had vanished over, if nothing more than to make sure he was dead.
The drop wasn’t very long in the least, six feet, but it combined with her magic had been enough to do him in. A thin trail of deep red was seeping out of his long, white hair… he’d probably hit a rock.
Wait. I’ve seen him somewhere… rogue, pale skin, white hair…
No.
Impossible.
She now peered at him with more interest, trying to better see his face, which was intermittently covered with strands of silvery white. She felt her heart leap into her throat, her breathing quickening. A breeze blew, allowing her a better look, and every still-functional muscle in her body relaxed.
It isn’t. How silly… to think I could win against him anyway.
She frowned.
Hm. I did get awfully worked up. What kind of stupid thing would I done… if it had been?
I suppose is the sort of thing everyone’s been warning me about.
She stood up, slowly. The bleeding persisted, but it had significantly slowed.
I mustn’t forget why I’m here.
The Nether still swirled around the shattered land, and the battle still raged on ahead of her. Azureplume was standing nearby, looking dazed and idiotic. Svetlaena pulled herself precariously into the saddle, hunched over though she was.
“Come on, the battle isn’t over yet.”
Also I wrote this hastily in about an hour and didn't edit, polish, or even reread.))
Svetlaena never liked large, open battles much. So much chaos. But here it was a million times worse. The Nether swirled around them, and she could feel the intensity of the magic floating in the very air, both fueling and feeding from the tumultuous fighting.
The Light is… almost faint here. In Shattrath it’s nearly tangible but the darkness and despair of this place have let little shine through.
She could see it reflected in her spells. The Light was fleeting, hard to grasp, even harder to direct to keep her comrades from falling on the battlefield. But the Shadow kept tempting her with its use. Just watching and mending… it’s no fun, is it, it whispered to her, its twisted energies wafting to and fro, all around, like mischievous whelplings.
Suddenly the skirmish for the tower post had ended and she was throwing herself astride Azureplume, her hawkstrider, and following along, a Tauren druid sticking close to her behind the front line. The road looked clear of the Alliance, a Blood Knight who had been rallying the forces issued the call, and they were off.
No one noticed when she fell off of Azureplume, crashing to the ground hard on her right shoulder. The stupid beast continued to run with the group, and the whole mass of them disappeared over the deep purple ridge. The sound of hooves, talons and paws faded out into the resounding strikes of lightning streaking across the Nether sky.
Senselessly, the priestess floundered about on the stone, unsure of which way was up or down but trying nevertheless to get up. Once to her knees, something struck—painful, swift, on the side of her neck. Her hand was on her dagger, but her muscles wouldn’t respond. They ached, protested, kept still despite her will to live.
Was that Kal’dorei there a moment ago?
Of course he was. She knew it as soon as he revealed himself. He’d been watching them, waiting for them to come down the road… possibly even waiting for a healer specifically, to separate her from the front lines that so desperately needed her. A look on his face nothing short of devilish, he was inches from her in a flash, smirking, about to strike. Bold, she thought. Too much so. And it would cost him.
Black energy swirled around her fingers and the spell left her lips before his blade could fall and he stumbled back, face racked with agony and fumbling to regain himself. Svetlaena was on her feet by the time he looked back to her, standing tall, gathering Light between her hands this time. The rogue couldn’t avoid the spurt of fire that blossomed below him, pillaring into the sky, but he could tough it out.
When the holy light faded he was gone, and she heard words in a strange tongue being spoken behind her before a dagger sliced across her back and left arm. She couldn’t even cry out before he cut her again, and all she could do was begin channeling healing energy into herself to stop the warm, sickeningly copious flow. When the blade came down a third time it stopped with a ‘chink’ against a shimmering barrier of light, and the injured enemies got back from one another, panting for breath in a standoff that lasted only seconds.
Svetlaena let the rogue charge at her, staying rooted to her piece of ground, her entire body shaking with pain and shock. The Shadows felt soothing as she gathered them to her. A fire burned in both their eyes. It was no longer about resources, land, power, Kings or Warchiefs, Horde or Alliance. It didn’t matter how or why they were even there. It was two elves that knew only one of them would come out of this meeting alive.
She should have seen it coming. She had actually believed his feign. A rogue make a forward charge like that? Not their territory. So she fell for one trick, she wouldn’t fall for the next one that was to come. She let the small amount of Light in her control disperse in a contained burst, showering a good radius around her in luminescent shimmers, while at the same time turning on her heel. It was just in time to witness a streak of surprise cross his face before he disappeared again. Taking her chance, she gathered the Light around her hands once more, trying to squeeze just a little more of her own energy into it than she had before.
Just a little more force should do it. Even now my Shadows eat away at him.
She released the energy with a scream as a blade sunk into her back, just under the ribs. But as soon as it was there, it was gone, and so was the rogue, over a rocky ledge. Then came a thud, and a grotesque ‘crack’.
It was a few moments before Svetlaena could move, trying to heal herself all the while. It would only do so much; she would probably have to see a doctor about this one, and she knew it. The bleeding wouldn’t stop or even slow for what felt like an eternity, though all her energies were pouring into the effort. Still on hands and knees, she scooted closer to the edge the Night Elf had vanished over, if nothing more than to make sure he was dead.
The drop wasn’t very long in the least, six feet, but it combined with her magic had been enough to do him in. A thin trail of deep red was seeping out of his long, white hair… he’d probably hit a rock.
Wait. I’ve seen him somewhere… rogue, pale skin, white hair…
No.
Impossible.
She now peered at him with more interest, trying to better see his face, which was intermittently covered with strands of silvery white. She felt her heart leap into her throat, her breathing quickening. A breeze blew, allowing her a better look, and every still-functional muscle in her body relaxed.
It isn’t. How silly… to think I could win against him anyway.
She frowned.
Hm. I did get awfully worked up. What kind of stupid thing would I done… if it had been?
I suppose is the sort of thing everyone’s been warning me about.
She stood up, slowly. The bleeding persisted, but it had significantly slowed.
I mustn’t forget why I’m here.
The Nether still swirled around the shattered land, and the battle still raged on ahead of her. Azureplume was standing nearby, looking dazed and idiotic. Svetlaena pulled herself precariously into the saddle, hunched over though she was.
“Come on, the battle isn’t over yet.”