A Letter to my Sister

[Celuna]

Dearest Lovely,

I hope life in the Horde is treating you well. I hear reports from friends who claim you have gone evil and now hunt down members of the Alliance for sport.

I know this cannot be, unless you have gone mad (again). I wish that I could have helped you more in your time of need. I wish that you were still here so that we could talk again. We didn't get to do much of that between the time I arrived home and the time that you went crazy (through no fault of your own, I understand, I'm not being critical. Bless you.)

For myself, my attempts at living a peaceful life of study and prayer are successful most of the time. I did have a bit of a religious crisis when I learned that what weak powers of holiness that are in me come from some alien being known as a Naaru. I will always remember the story of the rock, and I think I prefer to think of the cosmic force of good as being nameless.

I do still have nightmares ((several lines have been scribbled out here, undecipherable)) but nightmares are not real, and I am a big girl now.

I visited our parents grave the other day. I left two roses, one from me, and one from you.

Write to me if you have time and you do not hate all Alliance like the reports I hear say.


Love,

Celuna

[Lovely]

((A hastily written letter is written in reply, smears showing that it was folded before the ink had completely dried.))

Dearest sister Celuna,

I have missed you so much. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you, and the very short time that we got to spend together. I am sorry I didn't tell you before I got Clys to transfer me into this body, but I was in a bad state at the time, and panic had set in.

I am now a member of Sanctuary. We only hunt those Alliance who act maliciously toward us, and those who kill innocents or those who cannot defend themselves. Unfortunately, that number is large and grows larger every day. I even had to kill a member of the Ironforge Regiment last night in the middle of Gadgetzan. I was unharmed, though, and hearthed to safety before my shield was taken down.

Yes....The Ironforge Regiment. The Honor Guard, and all guilds within it are on our kill on sight list. I know this may shock you, but what you see isn't always what is reality. There are a few noble members of the Honor Guard, but it has been my experience as a member of the Horde that a large portion of them are evil incarnate, and lust after any blood they can get. I hope this news is not too disturbing, but you know I would never lie to you.

I hope to meet with you soon. I want to hear about the dreams you have had...And see if I can help you. You are my sister and I love you dearly.

I thank you for placing the flowers on our parents graves. I am unable to return to Lakeshire in this form without violence erupting, and to save lives, it is best for me to stay away. I appreciate what you have done.

Speaking of family....I'm not sure if you knew this, but I am adopted into the Nex'Cruor family. I am the daughter of Clys Nex'Cruor, the very woman I struggled with for so very long. She is gone now, disappeared...But I have several people here that are close to me and who I regard as family. I would like for you to meet them as well, if only there were a way to do so....

Please write back. I will think of a way to get you into the city without the guards freaking out.

I love you,

Lovely Nex'Cruor

[Celuna]

Celuna read through the letter from her sister.

Family. Lovely had found family with these orcs, taurens, trolls, blood elves...and undead. Celuna felt the Scarlet Crusader in her well up momentarily in hatred at the thought of seeing Forsaken walking and talking. Lovely must run into them on a daily basis in those Horde cities. Celuna shuddered, letting the feelings cascade and ebb.

She was a vessel of light. She was a rock. There is only love of the Light. She whispered her mantra, and focused her mind. She reached out, feeling the power at her fingertips, feeling it surround her, the softest breath against the hairs of her skin. Her mind wandered.

Rumor was you could walk up to the naaru in that far off city of Shattrath. When they spoke, there were no words, no language, only music, and knowledge and direct communication. Rumor was the whole city hummed with the sounds of the naaru, a gentle, soothing twinkling as if from the tiniest, most perfectly shaped bells ever created. There is no violence there either. Horde and Alliance are incapable of raising arms against each other while within the city limits. In her mind's vision, people smiled and waved in frienship.

She frowned as a slackjawed monster walked across the scene. Abominations. The Light's caress on her skin disappeared, replaced by an itchy desire. Somewhere far away, undead walking in the presence of naaru even now. Celuna clinched her teeth.

She read through the letter again.

Lovely wanted to meet. Celuna wanted to see her sister, even in blood elf form, she was still her sister, right?. Celuna had heard rumors about Silvermoon City also. The city was opulent, and gold lined the streets. People sat and drank wine in plush chaises, discussing politics and the weather, and whatever else Horde talked about when they were social. There were other rumors too. Some say the blood elves gained paladin powers by capturing a naaru. Lovely was a blood elf paladin. Lovely would never stand by such a thing. That rumor had to be false.

No. Her skin crawled. She didn't want to go to Silvermoon.

If Lovely wanted to meet, it would have to be somewhere neutral. Someplace she could afford the travel costs.

Booty Bay?

She was a vessel of light. She was a rock. There is only love of the Light. She whispered her mantra, and focused her mind. She would write this letter before she went to sleep, and mail it first thing in the morning.

"Dearest Lovely,
I would love to see you as well. I do not think I want to come to Silvermoon though. Maybe we could meet in Booty Bay?

Love,
Celuna"

She sealed the letter and propped it up on the tiny little desk in her room before blowing out the candle. Stripping all but her shift off, she crawled into her tiny bed and pulled the covers up around her neck. She closed her eyes, only to open them up again only moments later. The nightmares would be out in full force tonight, she could feel it, as certain as the hourly chime of a gnomish clock.

With a sigh, she pulled the covers down and crawled out of bed. Kneeling down, she pulled the rug near her bed to the side and unbolted the trapdoor that was hidden beneath it. The hinges slid in well oiled silence as she pulled it open. It was cold down there, in the darkness. Her body shivered as she climbed the ladder down. The darkness surrounded her, the softest breath against the hairs of her skin. Earthen floor. Two steps to the left. She reached down, searching for the edge of the bed with outstretched fingers.

A scratchy woolen blanket would be her only warmth. But it would be enough. It always was.

[Laron]

((Let me know if you need an escourt.))

[Lovely]

Lovely read the letter again. It was short and to the point. She wanted to meet in Booty Bay instead of Silvermoon. Lovely didn't blame Celuna, because if discovered, the guards would surely kill her no matter how much Lovely protested. Lovely seemed to have the same problem with the Stormwind guards.

She would go to Booty Bay, even though now she had grown to hate the place. No matter what time of day she went there, it seemed like there was always some Night Elf there shooting at people from the ship mast overhead, or hitting people with a sap and then flipping around them. The last time Lovely had been to Booty Bay, she had lost her temper and killed a young Kaldorei just for looking at her the wrong way.

But Celuna was her sister, and so this would be done. She penned a reply.

"Dear Celuna,

I would be happy to meet you in Booty Bay. I want to see your face again, and hear your laughter. I want to talk about old times with you, about the time we attacked poor Barke in Crystal Lake, or about the dress I bought you, or about the drinks we used to share. I also want to ask about our sister Angelita. I haven't heard from her since she went into seclusion.

Please meet me there for lunch today. I will see you in the inn....You will recognize me by the taberd of Sanctuary, a purple taberd with a golden hammer.

Til then, be safe.

Love,

Lovely Nex'Cruor"

[Celuna]

((This probably won't make a lick of sense unless you've read some of Celuna and Lovely's previous backstories (primarily Celuna's "origin" story: http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=350 , and somewhat also the tale of Lovely's torture by Conidivh: http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?t=771).

Note: this is all a dream, so any action taken by any character other than Celuna is strictly a figment of Celuna's substantially warped subconscious and in no way should reflect on said character's real character)

Warning: Mature themed (but nothing even remotely explicit) ))


The dream starts as it always does.

The sun is bright on a field of green grass that stretches to the horizon. The sky is a soft blue, and large white clouds seem as hazy reminders of youth spent fishing with un-baited hooks. Somewhere a bell tolls.

Brother Orthda smiles across a crowd of people who appear between Celuna and the man she considers her true father. He waves, and she starts to push through the crowds, to see him again, but the crowd becomes taller, blocking out the sun.

From far away a church bell tolls, and the crowd dissipates, milling around, expectantly, like cattle at dusk. Their murmurs were unintelligible, but melodic, and then expectant. A whispered hush.

The crowd parts, and Conidivh in his finest suit appears. Finer than the most noble baron, he walks up and holds out his elbow. "I believe this dance is mine?" He asks.

Celuna takes his arm, grateful for something to hold onto that is familiar. He dances with her, twirling her, and she dances divinely (when did she learn to dance?). But the pattern is too familiar, and the crowd! The crowd is dancing the same dance, but in the opposite direction. She thinks she sees Orthda, but he is whisked away by purple skinned elves who turn into bears before resuming the dance.

Celuna wonders because they are moving, though they danced in circles, they were moving quickly towards a large church. The bells ring out, louder now. It begins to rain, and the crowd screams, rushing into the church.

Conidivh still dances, flourishing, dipping her down, across his arm, until she is bent in half, hanging upside down, and the rain! The rain is filling her nose, and she can't pull herself back up.

Choking, wheezing, her white gown now ruined, Conidivh stands her up straight. An organ plays a wedding march.

"I am getting married?" She asks.

Conidivh just smiles and leads her into the abbey.

Celuna strains to see down the aisle. Why can't she remember who she was marrying? Was it Barke? Wasn't he dead? Or Laron, but not Laron...his third cousin twice removed by adoption?

She couldn't see, and she couldn't remember. She looked into the crowds sitting in the pews, all perfectly quiet, and sitting up straight. Except for Teelia and Upae, who were sprawled naked, taking up an entire pew. Celuna tries to point, to ask, but Conidivh firmly tugs her along.

Finally she can see the alter, and recognizes Nouri, the priest who had sat with her in Booty Bay that one night so long ago. She could see the groom also, but his back was turned. Dark hair, broad shoulders, definitely human.

Celuna looked for Brother Orthda again. Wasn't he the one to walk her down the aisle? She turned, but it was not Conidivh, but a grotesque pumpkin head. "UTSL" clearly carved into its forehead.

The groom! Who was the groom?! Shouldn't she know who she was marrying?? "Turn around!" she screamed at the man she didn't know.

The wedding march droned on, though a note was missed here, a dischordant fumble there, impossibly, the mistakes became more pronounced. Celuna looked, but she couldn't see. Why wasn't someone stopping him, the musician was clearly drunk, and it was her wedding day, and she was certain someone had spent a lot of money...

An explosion rocked the church, killing the organ, bits of tubes and ivory becoming shrapnel, striking the guests, who were screaming, and running for the door.

Celuna turned to run with them, but the pumpkin man held her, striding in beat to a march that didn't exist any longer. Flames were racing up gaudy tapestries, and the pews had begun to glow orange from the heat.

And then all was silent. The flames continued to destroy the church, but there was only her, and the man at the alter.

I should go now. She thought.

"Faith! My love! Come to me!" That voice, so familiar...so dark. He knew her true name.

She ran, lifting up the hem of her dress.

She needed to see who HE was.

"My love?" she asked, reaching out tentatively to his sleeve.

Like a trap, faster than thought, he twisted, grabbing her wrist, wrestling her up against him. His hands dropped lower, leveraging her buttocks as hand holds, easily catching her weight, pulling her perfectly fitted body against his.

He kisses her passionately, and she feels her body respond immediately, hotter than the fire that was dropping the rafters down into what remained of the church. She is engulfed, she is parched, she feels more now than she has felt since...

"Viscar?" She opens her eyes.

"I knew you'd come back, you little whore." He grinned, before grabbing her wrists again, and binding them. He ties her to the altar, there in the burning church, and then he laughed and he left her there...

The flames burned her flesh, smoke filled her eyes, and she hated him.

==========

Screaming, she wakes up in her bed in the little secluded church far from any sizeable population.

She calms down, letting her heart beat slow, before twisting her hands together, flipping open the clasp that held the cuffs around her wrists.

Today she would start her journey to Booty Bay. She couldn't put it off any longer.

[Celuna]

Celuna was excited, and hopeful. She had to restrain herself to not start running when she saw the abbey that she called home appear in the distance. She walked with a brisk pace, her head spinning with the knowledge that she would be reunited with her sister again, once and for all.

Brother Udahj waited for her at the entrance. Celuna waved at him, grinning broadly.

He didn't return the wave.

"Where have you been, Celuna?" He asked, drawing himself up straight and crossing his arms. "We have been worried sick wondering where you had gotten off to."

Celuna slowed her pace, stopping right in front of him. "I left a message.."

"Booty Bay? To consort with that evil sister of yours? Celuna, have you gone truly mad now?"

Celuna lowered her head and stared at the hem of his robe. "I didn't see the harm..." she mumbled.

"The harm? The harm?" His voice boomed loudly, and she winced. He took a deep breath, and continued on, his voice not as loud, but too even and unemotional. "Celuna, you know in your condition you are lucky you made it through Stormwind without losing your mind. All of the inroads we've made recently. You remember the wreck that you were when you first came to us? You have probably regressed your therapy by months. Please don't ever travel so far again without an escort, ok?"

Celuna frowned. "But I saw Lovely, and we talked, and I am going to go live with her outside of Silvermoon. She's an alchemist now, and says she'll be able to cure my nightmares with some potions she's been working on."

"Potions?" He sneered. "You need pyschological examination, not medications."

Celuna stepped back and stared up at this man she had grown to trust and care for. Was this a new nightmare? She felt her pulse quicken as panic set in. She turned her head to the left, and then to the right, searching for some indication that this wasn't real.

She shouldn't have returned. She should have had Lovely whisk her away home directly from Booty Bay. She began inching away from this stranger who blocked the entrance to what had been her home for so long. She reached into her pocket, ready to use the hearthstone, to contact Lovely...

Faster than thought, his arms shot out and grabbed her shoulders roughly. He pulled her up close to him, too close, his breath was on her face.

Trembling, she looked up into his eyes. He sneered. He leaned in, his mouth now inches from her ear, and he whispered softly "and where do you think you are going, little whore?"

Celuna felt the blood drain from every extremity.

"Inform Viscar, our mouse has sprung the trap." Udahj yelled at someone Celuna couldn't see behind her. And then everything went black as she fainted.

[Lovely]

((GAH!! My Baby Sister!!! Nooooo!))

[Laron]

((Laron is gonna hurt that man if he finds out.))

[Mortica]

((I suspect Lovely might get concerned when she doesn't get that call "tonight"))

[Lovely]

Lovely paced back and forth in the Nex'Cruor Castle. It was an hour past when she was supposed to hear from Celuna. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Finally, she blurted out "Light Damn it! Where is she?"

Hellista, who was supposed to summon Lovely's sister, said nothing, but grinned at the apparent anger her boss was going through. She crossed her legs and took a bite of food, looking at the cake, and the other decorations which adorned the dining table in front of her.

Lovely glared at Hellista. "I told you not to eat yet, Hellista. My sister is coming to live with us. This is a special occasion. And don't let me catch you looking at that cake."

Hellista let out a sigh and folded her arms. Lovely then took her hearthstone and rubbed it, holding it up to try and see if she could contact her sister. Nothing. Nothing but static.

"Dammit," Lovely exclaimed. "Something is wrong. I can feel it. I'll give her anouther 10 minutes and then I'm going to go looking for her myself."

Hellista tried to stop herself, but a giggle escaped her lips. As Lovely blinked in angry disbelief, Hellista said "Look, I just want some of that cake. Your little stupid sister needs to get here soon, or I'm going to eat it anyway. Hopefully she'll be dead or something so I can have her slice too."

Lovely wasted no time jumping across the table, throwing a wild haymaker to Hellista's face which sent her sprawling backward. Hellista cackled and threw forth her arms toward the woman above her, a howl of terror escaping her lips. Lovely was affected by it and turned to run, knocking the table with the cake over onto the floor as Hellista quickly got to her feet.

Lovely shook off the fear effect, now more angry than ever. She leapt forth and grabbed Hellista by the throat, choking her as she slammed her into the floor. "You want some fucking cake, bitch?!?! Here's your cake!!!"

Lovely then slammed Hellista face first into the cake, her arms and legs kicking as Lovely buried her head into it. Hellista tried to break free, but was not nearly strong enough to resist the crazed paladin. "Eat it" Lovely shrieked as she squeezed Hellista's neck tighter.

Hellista could not see or breathe. Between the food she was buried in, and the hands around her throat, she felt her body growing weaker by the moment. Finally, all of her strength gone, she passed out from lack of oxygen. Lovely kept going, covered in food and with a wild look in her eye as she choked the last bit of life out of Hellista Lok'tharis. She stood, breathing heavily, and kicked the body, then turned and looked at the household servants who had witnessed the entire thing. They stood speechless, mouths agape, and Lovely took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Anyone else hungry for some cake? I thought not."

[Mortica]

((oh, god, that was priceless, rofl))

[Laron]

(( O.O))

[Malorii]

(( see SEE!? what have i been saying this ENTIRE TIME!! ... Carbs kill people!! ))

[Netheryn]

((owned. FYI, I'm respeccing from Axe Mastery to Pastry Chef. Cakes are the new killer.))

[Celuna]

Celuna knew when they crossed over into the plaguelands. There was a smell to the land, a staleness in the air. Even being gagged and blindfolded, she knew.

She could hear a gargoyle shriek. The sound wasn't close, but it brought back memories. Memories of slow, heavy beating of wings. Perhaps it would have been better if she had died back then. It's what he had wanted.

Lovely would be worried.

Beautiful Lovely. She perhaps was even lovelier in an elf's body than her former human self. Celuna had so few good memories of her sister, but at least the last was one of the best. Lovely had given her hope, made everything seem like life was going to be good again.

She whimpered against the gag.

But life never got better, and whenever she would think that there was some hope of living a normal life, fate would always kick her in the ribs.

She could hear dogs. Indiscrimant in their affection and loyalty, they were companions even to the Scarlet Crusade. Soon she would be there again, and no doubt she would see him.

She hoped he had changed, but she knew what luck the act of "hope" brought her, and so she had none.

[Skafloc]

((owned. FYI, I'm respeccing from Axe Mastery to Pastry Chef. Cakes are the new killer.))

(( WTB: [Everlasting Fruitcake of Unyeilding Might] ))

[Lovely]

The night had been horrible. Shortly after killing Hellista, Lovely had cleaned herself up and left the castle, taking the warlock's soulstone with her. The vile creature would not be able to bring herself back this time.

Lovely arrived in Orgrimmar, already late for a meeting Vilmah had called for the reformation of the Nether council. The Ring of Valor was crowded with familiar faces, and Lovely tried to act casual and friendly, but in the back of her mind she could think of nothing but her sister. Where had Celuna disappeared to? Had she been held up, or killed? Was she in a ditch somewhere, clinging to life?

After the meeting, Lovely went back to the Nex'Cruor manor, where the servants were still cleaning. Still furious, she demanded that Hellista be buried in an unmarked grave behind the castle, never to be seen again. Skafloc had told Lovely that the soulstone wouldn't last long, but Lovely wasn't concerned about such things. Her troubles with the warlock were over, but her troubles with Celuna seemed to be just beginning.

Celuna had been staying at an Abbey. Lovely knew this, and knew the general location. As she equipped her armor and weapons, a grim look formed on her face. She would go to this abbey and question those who resided there. And if they would not give her clear answers, she would slay everyone inside and burn the place to the ground.

Celuna would be found, one way or another, and would be welcomed to her new home.

[Netheryn]

(( WTB: [Everlasting Fruitcake of Unyeilding Might] ))

((One more thread derailment, sorry Lovely. Love the story.

WTB: [Medivh's Ho-Ho: Snack cake of the Guardian]))

[Celuna]

They arrived at the gates of Tyr's Hand and firm, yet surprisingly gentle hands helped her down from the horse. They took off her blindfold and removed the ropes from her wrists.

Cautiously, Celuna looked around, letting her eyes adjust. She was surrounded by Scarlets in fine polished armor, and the men who had brought her here. One of the kidnappers, a gardner she had known as George, saluted the Scarlets, and then the kidnappers mounted and rode off, leaving her with the guards.

One of them stepped forward and removed his helmet. He then bowed low in front of her. "On behalf of the entire Tyr's Hand community, we welcome you home. We have been instructed to escort you to your home and provide for any needs that you have." He then held out his arm, as if they were at some grand ball.

Celuna stepped back. Behind her she heard crisp ring of metal on metal as they crossed swords to block her escape.

Celuna's eyes narrowed. "You are too kind, Sir," she managed to sneer out despite the rigidness of her jaw and the overwhelming urge to scream in frustration.

[Celuna]

They led her to a small house north of the main cathedral. The captain opened the door and ushered her in. Celuna walked into the house, half-expecting to see torture equipment and manacles, but was instead greeted by the most mundane of rooms. A small fireplace with a pot of boiling water. A wooden table with two chairs. A bookcase with a few musty leatherbound works, and a portrait of Grand Inquisitor Isillien.

"If you need anything, just ask one of the guards I have posted to keep you safe, Miss Celuna. I believe you will find boiling water for a bath if you'd care for one and fresh clothes that should fit you in the bedroom." The captain closed the door behind him and she was left in her new prison alone.

She wandered into the kitchen, where a pitcher of water, a few apples, a loaf of bread, and a large chunk of cheese had been left out. Further exploration led her to the tiniest of bedrooms, a bed barely large enough for an adult and a chest of drawers full of clean linen garments. A small ceramic tub and a wash basin filled the last and final room.

The kitchen had a small window looking out towards the cathedral. Celuna could spy two guards sitting nearby, playing cards. While the accomodations could have been worse, there was no doubt she was still a prisoner.

She pulled the kettle of water off of the fireplace and filled the tub. Nervously she pulled her clothes off and stepped into the tub. There was a bar of soap, and a bit of cloth to wash with. She also discovered some lavender scented shampoo for her hair and after she had scrubbed herself raw, a towel to dry off with. The simple clothing did fit her.

She paced through the house again, looking for clues to what he planned to do with her but found nothing out of the ordinary. She looked through the titles of the books and finally selected one to read while she waited for him.

[Celuna]

Celuna woke up with a start. She lifted her head out of the dusty old book and pulled her back up straight in the chair.

A second set of knocks at the door brought her fully awake. She turned just as the door creaked open, revealing a young girl, maybe 14 or 15 years old in linen similar to what Celuna now wore. She had medium length red hair tied up under a white cap. She held a tray with a fresh pitcher of water and what looked like stewed beef, potatoes, and carrots.

The girl quickly cast her eyes down when she saw Celuna looking at her, and hurried in the door. "S..ss..sorry Miss. I was instructed to bring you d.dd.dinner and fresh water. Pardon the intrusion." She set the tray on the table in front of Celuna and started to shuffle back to the door, her eyes still on the ground.

"Wait!" Celuna sprung out of her chair and grabbed the girls arm. The girl stifled a yelp and looked up at her wide eyed and fearful.

Celuna released the girl's arm and backed up a pace, holding her hands out, palms facing outward. "I'm sorry. My name is Celuna. Thank you for bringing me food, ... " Celuna nodded at the girl, encouraging her to speak her name.

"S..ssarah. My name is Sarah," she stuttered out. A gleam of curiosity sparkled in her eye and after a moment she whispered very quietly. "You are the one who got away. They said you were dead, but we knew you were alive. We tell stories about you..."

The door creaked open and one of the guards poked his head in. "Hurry up in there!" he yelled. Sarah ran out the door without saying another word.

Celuna sighed and walked over to the window. She watched the girl run off and around a corner before returning to the table. She poured herself a fresh glass of water and stared at the plate of food for a moment before sticking her fingers in it to fish out a bite of carrot. Apparently her jailors didn't trust her with forks or spoons.

[Lovely]

Lovely stood outside the burning abbey, watching the flames as they crackled and popped about the ruins. Her bloodsoaked armor was tattered and dented, and her Sanctuary taberd hung on by threads. Bodies of several Scarlets lay scattered about, and Lovely's plate boot rested atop the head clergyman of the small fortress. She looked about, thinking. "Well....If she isn't at this outpost, I know of several others that need to be investigated."

Lovely grimaced and summoned her demonic skeletal horse, placing her helm back on her bloodsoaked head and vaulting onto it as she kicked it into motion. "East," She snarled at the undead mount. "We go to Tyr's Hand if this next outpost proves fruitless."

[Celuna]

Brother Viscar whistled a tune as he made his way from the cathedral to his home. His latest project was proving to be an unqualified success and his superiors were ecstatic at the projections for increased recruitment from Stormwind.

There had been a time when nearly a quarter of Stormwind's youth had flocked to Scarlet Crusade recruiters. While Stormwind may publically criticize the Scarlet's goals and methods for achieving them, the children knew who to fight. Fight those undead fiends. Yes, they signed up willingly and fought with heart.

Some even survived long enough to help train the next wave of applicants.

But with the opening of the portal and the arrival of the draenei, the youth now turned their eyes on Outland. "Let us take the fight to them!" They would rally and cheer before marching to the portal, rarely to ever return.

But Viscar had a vision. He had the intelligence and he had the cunning. He was a problem solver. That's what his latest reviewer had told him. Problem solver Viscar. It helped that the goal was the only thing that was important to him.

More recruits.

More female recruits in particular.

His lips snarled in a half smile. She was back. His greatest creation.

He resisted the urge to skip.

[Lovely]

Lovely was exhausted. For hours she had fought nonstop, slaughtering any agent of the Scarlet Crusade that she could find. She had destroyed 3 of their smaller outposts, as well as much of the monestary, and had slain countless numbers of the zealotous humans. She had not slept in days, and it was beginning to take its toll. Her armor was nearly destroyed, and parts of it hung loosely, swinging about and clanking as she moved. Her taberd was gone, only a small scrap of purple cloth hung from her belt. At this point, Sanctuary was the last thing on her mind.

She stood, looking over another outpost. Looking over another score of bodies she had put into the dirt. Her disheveled hair was pink with the blood of her victims, and her face was nearly unseen behind a mask of blood and dirt. Only the glow of her eyes could be seen in the dark, and other than that she appeared to move and sway like a scourge.

Her hearthstone buzzed. As it had buzzed constantly for the past few days. She was sick of hearing the sound, and finally answered it in disgust. "What!!! What is it?!?! I am busy!"

Atanasia's monotone voice was on the other end. "Lovely Nex'Cruor, I have news of Baron Skafloc Ran'Deau."

Lovely sighed. "Well this news will have to wait until I find my sister. Tell him I will return once this is done."

Lovely then turned her stone off, before Atanasia had a chance to respond. Skafloc could handle himself. Celuna could not. Lovely knew she must find her soon. If anything happened to her sister she would go mad...

[Celuna]

Sarah was an orphan, like many of the young women of Tyr's Hand. She had been recruited with promises of food and shelter, and a chance to make a difference in the war against the Burning Legion without actually having to learn how to use a sword or hammer or shield or needing to wear heavy plate armor.

At first Tyr's Hand had been a dream come true. She had been given clean clothes and a small room to sleep in. She ran errands for the Scarlet clergy and most were good decent folks who treated her kindly. But there was one who did not seem to fit in, who reeked of evil as if he'd stepped in a pile and it was tracking on the bottom of his boots.

Sarah avoided him at all costs, instinctively. Some of the other girls weren't as lucky. Some disappeared altogether, no investigation ever initiated. Some would return to the main servants quarters in shock, unable to talk about what had happened to them. Sarah would give them a hug, and let them cry without making them talk. Some things were better left unspoken.

As dusk settled in and her daily tasks completed, she hid in the bushes outside of the house they kept Celuna in. She wasn't sure why she cared. Maybe she thought this one might be able to change things. Maybe it was curiosity at something different than what normally happened.

Viscar's personal guards came for Celuna. Sarah watched them lead her east towards his house. Letting curiosity get the better of her judgement, she followed them. Celuna walked stiffly between the guards. When they arrived at Viscar's house, one of the guards knocked on the door. Sarah couldn't hear what words were spoken, but they stood at the door for at least a minute before Celuna was pushed in and the door closed behind her. The two guards laughed and took up their spots guarding the door.

Reluctantly Sarah returned to the servants quarters, hoping for a miracle.

[Celuna]

Viscar closed the door behind Celuna and then motioned for her to take a seat at a small dinner table. On the table was a a modest feast with roasted lamb and chopped vegetables.

She planted her feet and crossed her arms in front of her. "What do you want with me?"

He chuckled. Viscar walked over to the table and picked up a dark green tinted bottle of wine. He poured two glasses slowly, dividing his attention between her and the wine levels in the glasses.

Picking up the two full glasses, he walked back over to Celuna and held out one.

Her arms stayed crossed. "What do you want with me?"

He lifted a glass to his lips and drained the dark red liquid.

"What do I want with you, Celuna? Now what kind of question is that? You make it sound like you are a prisoner here."

Her eyes narrowed. "I AM a prisoner."

"Not at all, not at all. Come, sit and have dinner with me and let us catch up on old times." He chuckled again. "I have missed you so much and I long to hear of your adventures outside of Tyr's Hand."

Viscar moved back to the table and pulled a chair out. His voice hardened. "Sit. I insist."

Celuna shook her head, "I'd prefer to stand".

Viscar gripped the back of the chair tightly. His grip loosened, and he shrugged and pushed the chair back under the table. He walked to the opposite side and sat in the other chair.

"Well, if you wish to remain reticent, I will fill you in on life here in Tyr's." Viscar pulled the plate of veal close and sliced a thin slab away from the main roll. With fork and knife he dragged it onto his plate, and then scooped vegetables and broth on top of the meat.

"Life in Tyr's has changed since you left, Celuna." He cut the meat on his plate slowly and deliberately. At one time we were on the forefront of the war against the Legion. Every young person with honor in the hearts and courage in the blades would beg to join our cause." He paused and took a bite.

"Mmmmm... delicious. You really should have some." He gestured with his fork to the empty chair.

Celuna's nose twitched and her stomach growled audibly, but she remained standing and glaring.

"But then the dark portal was reopened, and suddenly everyone has forgotten the Scarlets. We remain here defending Alliance lands from the raids made by those remaining in Naxxramas." Viscar sighed and stared down into his plate.

"I grow tired, Celuna. This fight. I have fought it for so long with no end in sight. The only comfort I've had since you left is a small project..." Viscar dropped his utensils violently and leapt out of his chair, crossing the room faster than anyone his age or girth should have been able to.

"No. Not even that!" He twisted her wrists behind her back and pulled her up against him. She struggled, trying to leverage an elbow against his ribs. Unable to get away from him she screamed, "Help! For light's sake! Someone help me!"

Slowly, and deliberately, his eyes shining with an inner glow, he leaned in to kiss her, but was stopped by a knock at the door. Without releasing her, he turned his attention towards the door. "Enter!"

The head of one of the guards popped inside the room and looked around. "Do you require assistance, Brother?"

Viscar grinned down at Celuna, who continued to struggle. "As a matter of fact, I do. Could you please send for Brother Parkins? Celuna, my Love, has agreed to marry me and I'd like to have the ceremony tonight. We have wasted too many days apart and I cannot bear to wait any longer to prove my love."

The guard grinned and nodded. "Congratulations, Brother! I will go grab him now!"

Celuna ceased her struggling and stared up at Viscar. "You wouldn't dare!"

He just chuckled and held her even tighter.

[Izrail]

((...!))

[Lovely]

((I would offer to bring the cake for your wedding, but I used it to kill a Warlock. :P))

[Celuna]

The dream starts as it always does.

The sun is bright on a field of green grass that stretches to the horizon. The sky is a soft blue, and large white clouds seem as hazy reminders of youth spent fishing with un-baited hooks. Somewhere a bell tolls.

Except, this wasn't a dream, and the sun doesn't shine in the plaguelands. But a bell was ringing, and they had forced her into a white wedding gown.

"It's just a dream," she whispered, willing herself to wake-up, just as she always did at this part. Brother Parkins and Brother Viscar were waiting for her at the end of the aisle, and four guards in dress reds surrounded her. "Why can't I wake up?" Thankfully the guards didn't stare at her. If anything they were making a point to look anywhere but at her.

She wasn't ever able to wake up, not until he kissed her. That was how fairy tales went, wasn't it? Why couldn't the dream end early for once?

Celuna reached out with her mind, reaching out for the Light that was always just out of reach. She had trained for a year as a paladin before losing her sister and then losing her mind. She wished she hadn't of run away from home so long ago. Maybe Faith and Lovely would have resolved their differences and become sister paladins and been there for each other in their time of need. Maybe Lovely wouldn't have been so promiscuous, or gone crazy there at the end if Faith had been there.

Maybe Celuna wouldn't have ever met Viscar.

As if knowing that she was thinking of him, he turned and smiled at her. It was the smile of a cat that had played with a mouse for so long that the mouse had stopped trying to escape, and was just waiting for the inevitable. But if you leave the mouse alone long enough, it'll always make one last attempt at running away. He was waiting for her. He was waiting to show her just how powerless she was.

An organ was playing. The guards moved, two at her side, and two behind her. The ones at her side grabbed her elbows and pulled her down the aisle. The two behind her pushed her forward.

The wedding march droned on, though a note was missed here, a dischordant fumble there, impossibly, the mistakes became more pronounced. Celuna looked, but she couldn't see. Why wasn't someone stopping him, the musician was clearly drunk, and it was her wedding day, and she was certain someone had spent a lot of money...

There was a buzzing, foggy feeling in her brain. She knew her sanity was slipping. She tried to stop walking. Shouldn't the church be on fire now? Wasn't Orthda and Lovely supposed to be here?

But the guards lifted her and kept their march down the aisle. Her feet drug across the wooden floor and the organ music increased in volume with each step closer to the altar. She felt a wave a nausea rise up and she gagged in reflex. The guards gripped her tighter, doing their best to hold her up and give the appearance of walking.

The nausea passed. "Bride's jitters," she thought to herself. She held her head up and resumed her walking. She could see him at the end of the aisle, an imposing figure in dark robes. And Nouri! She smiled brightly. He had been so reluctant to perform the ceremony, but Lovely had talked him into it.

She felt a tear slide down her face. She wiped it away and smiled. Yes, there were all of her friends in the pews, smiling up at her. She couldn't imagine a happier day!

The nausea returned, and when she looked up the church was no longer sunny but dark and small. There wasn't a single person in the pews. She frowned, and the dizziness made her stumble. An arm at her side kept her from falling.

The dark cloud lifted, and suddenly she was standing at the altar, and he was there. She couldn't imagine him looking more handsome.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in The Light – and in the face of this company – to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony..."

Nouri's words...why did he seem so old so suddenly? She nervously smiled and tried to pay attention to what he was saying. The buzzing was starting again and the edge of her vision was dark and swirling. "Bride's jitter's!" She took a deep breath and continued to smile.

They were staring at her. "I do!" She blurted out. The crowd sighed and clapped happily.

The darkness swelled at the edge of her vision, the church was empty. The guards in red held her fast. "Say it!" They hissed. "Nooooooo!" She kicked and screamed, trying to free herself from their grasp. "Have the priest force her if she won't say it on her own," someone yelled behind her.

"May these rings be blessed as the symbol of this affectionate unity. These two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. Wherever they go – may they always return to one another. May these rings on their fingers symbolize the touch of the spirit of love in their hearts."

There was a ring in her hand. A simple gold band. She forgot how it got there. Her Love gently tugged her hand over. "Oh, his ring!" She smiled up at him, and carefully placed it on his outstretched finger.

He then pulled out a ring, a matching glowing band of gold. "With this ring, I thee wed," He breathed, sliding the band onto her finger.

"You may now kiss the bride! Celuna tried to back away from Viscar, but the guards held her fast. His head loomed above her, blocking out everything else in her vision, she cowered, shrinking in, willing herself to be anywhere....anywhere but here, and now.

There was an explosion of cheering, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he pulled her tightly against him. He lifted the veil, and slowly his lips touched hers, the lightest and sweetest of kisses ever. "You are mine, forever," he whispered as he withdrew and stood up straight, still holding her against him.

She smiled, and whispered back "Forever, my Love."

[Lovely]

((Poor Celuna...:())

[Laron]

((She could be a Widow soon...))

[Lupa]

((She could be a Widow soon...))


(( Oh I think it will be much worse than that. ))

[Celuna]

Brother Viscar hurried along the path that led from the cathedral gates to his modest little house in the midst of the other brethern's homes. It had been a week since his impromptu wedding to Celuna, and he was still in awe of how complete her transformation had become. He couldn't have planned it better. He had wanted to break her, to leave her begging, but this, this was beyond even his expectations.
A group of guards rushed to stand at attention when he rounded the last corner. He nodded and smiled and they smiled back, returning to their dice games as he entered the house.

"Celuna?"

There was a sound of scuffling, and she emerged from a back room with a broom in her hand. She squeeled happily when she saw him, and she set the broom to the side and rushed into his arms. He braced himself and pulled her close, allowing himself liberal groping of her curves. He responded immediately to her enthusiastic advances. Most of his subjects were unwilling and while he enjoyed the process of making them beg for something they didn't want, he enjoyed this feeling of power as well. Growling, he pushed her towards the bedroom.

=======

She rested peacefully beside him, one arm draped over his waist. He was going over his research notes, double checking the calculations. He was so close. He just needed to balance the increased alkalinity with... Viscar sighed and closed his notebook. He pushed her arm off of him and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. She whimpered in playful protest, but he ignored her.

He moved across the room and lit a small oillamp on the desk. He sat down and pushed the stack of letters in the center of the desk to the side. He opened his lab notebook and wrote out his plans for the next day of experiments. With a few tweaks the alchemical process should be ready for live testing within the week.

Outside his window, a rooster on the other side of Tyr's crowed. It was still dark out, but the dawn would be coming soon. He reached over to turn the oillamp off, when he noticed that the letters he had pushed aside earlier were not in his handwritting.

In beautiful flowing penmanship, each letter was a thank-you note written by Celuna to people Viscar never knew existed, and most certainly were not at the wedding. He chuckled and tossed them all into the trash.

=========

Sarah understood on some basic level that Celuna had lost her mind. When she tried to question her about escaping from Tyr's Hand, Celuna would just stare at her blankly. "Why would I want to leave my husband so soon after our ceremony?!"

So Sarah helped Celuna clean the house and brought them fresh firewood. She would talk to her about mundane things and side-stepped the conversation when Celuna tried to gush about how wonderful being married was. In fact she was trying her best to ignore Celuna's prattling when she found the thank-you notes in the trash.

Sarah didn't recognize any of the names, but she did find one addressed to a "Lovely" that appeared to be Celuna's sister.


Dearest Lovely,

I am so happy! You cannot know how wonderful life is now that I have found my true love and we are together forever! I wanted to thank-you for coming to the wedding on such short notice. It wouldn't have been the same if my only sister couldn't have made it!

I hope to become pregnant soon. I'm sure our children will be beautiful and smart! Maybe we can find you a good Scarlet to marry and settle down here with us. I would love to be able to see you more often!

Love ya,

Celuna

Grabbing a pen, Sarah scrawled in hesitant lettering along the bottom.


Please, if you get this letter, Celuna has lost her mind and is married to a very, very evil man. Please help her. Please help all of us!

Sarah waited for the ink to sink into the letter before folding it up and stuffing it into a pocket of her skirt.

"What do we have here, I wonder?" Viscar's voice filled the room. Sarah jumped, turning towards her employer. She froze, trying to look innocent. "Sorry, Brother, I was cleaning up the room. I will help Celuna in the kitchen..." She tried to slide past him at the doorway, but he grabbed a shoulder with one hand and reached into the skirt pocket with the other, pulling out the letter. She struggled against him, trying to pull out of his grasp.

Viscar chuckled as he read the letter. "An evil man? Ah, Sarah, I am crushed that you think so ill of me." He crumpled the letter with one hand and tossed it back into the trash.

Sarah winced as his grip became tighter.

"Let's go see just how wrong you are, little one." He wasn't smiling as he pulled her through the house into his private study. Once there he pulled a lever that cause one of the bookcases to slide back leading into a dark passageway.

Sarah felt a scream well up in her as he pushed her into the passageway, but somehow knew it wouldn't help her.

[Hellista]

((Hellista would sooooooo kill this man slowly))

[Celuna]

The smell grew worse the farther along the underground passageway they went.

"Where are you taking me?"

He chuckled in reply, a deep, hollow rumbling. Sarah shivered and tried not to imagine what the source of the smell was. She thought of which direction they were facing, how far they were traveling, anything but what was causing the smell.

The tunnel widened, and a bit of light leaked out from under a doorway. Viscar yanked her to a stop and pulled a key out of a pocket of his robe. The door opened, and Sarah was assaulted by the smell of bloated death. She gagged, twisting away from him and wretching violently. He pulled her into the room.

Metal cages were stacked haphazardly against the walls. Things lay on dirty straw inside the cages. Most of them weren't moving. Some of them flashed yellow glowing eyes at the intruders. In the center of the room was an alchemical table filled with flasks of liquids. Sarah could not decide if the smell came from the cages or the table.

He pulled her past the smaller cages and stopped in front of one of the larger one. She realized his intentions and survival instincts took over suddenly, and violently. She lashed out at him, kicking, her small fists balled up into tight rocks punching at his arms and his torso. She realized she was screaming, one long, high pitched shriek. There were answering screams from the cages, none of them human sounding.

Viscar struggled to hold onto the flurry of arms and legs that lashed out at him. He got an arm around her waist and he pulled her tight against him, suffering the kicks and punches as he fumbled with the cage door with his free hand.

He managed to open the door. He shifted his weight, twisting her closer to the cage. His other hand now free, he pushed down on her head and shoved her into the cage. Hands grasped at the edges of the cage door, but he kicked her knuckles until she was forced to release. The door closed behind her and he quickly snapped a lock around the metal latch system.

"Let me go!" She demanded. Sarah's fingers pushed through the holes in the cage mesh and she shook the metal frame. One of the things in the cage next to her sat up on it's haunches and peered at her hungrily. A wolf with most of it's fur fallen off peered at her with golden eyes. But not the feral, natural eyes that many wolves had. No, these glowed with demon light. Sarah shrieked as it lunged at her, it's cage smashing up against hers.

"I wouldn't rile up your neighbors, Sarah." Viscar was pouring a greenish smoking liquid from one of the flasks into a smaller vial. He capped the vial and placed it into a sturdy looking container that had obviously been designed to hold that size and shape vial. He closed the container and latched the clasp on the side before slipping it into one of the many pockets of his robes.

He crossed the room and knelt down in front of her cage. He pulled on the lock, double checking that it was secure before staring directly into her eyes. "Such a pity wasting such a beautiful face." He shook his head in exaggerated sadness. "I'd sleep as close to the center of your cage as possible. I forget to feed the other test animals sometimes." He flashed a toothy, apologetic grin at her before standing up.

"Let me go, please!" She pleaded with him. "I swear, I'll never tell anyone anything about this or Miss Celuna, I swear!"

Viscar paused at the doorway leading back to his house. He sighed loudly. "If only women could be trusted, Sarah. But we both know you'd be blabbing this to every whore servant in Tyr's and I just can't allow that to happen.

He reached up to the single burning oillamp and put a lid over the flame. "Sweet dreams, Sarah." He closed the door and Sarah watched as the flame slowly died out, leaving her in complete darkness in the smell and the sounds of undead animals growling hungrily.

[Lovely]

Lovely rode up to Tyr's Hand on her undead dreadmount Splendor, and before the surprised soldiers of the Scarlet Crusade could issue a warning she leapt from the mount and came crashing down into them. The land underneath the soldiers was instantly consecrated with holy energy, and angelic wings sprouted in a glow behind Lovely's back as she brought her longsword slicing into one of the men.

She should have come here sooner. She knew her time wasted in prison for killing Hellista had robbed her of a possible opportunity to save her sister, and now that she was free, and of sound mind again, it was time to wipe these foul zealots from the face of Azeroth.

One of the men managed to blow a horn during the initial fray, summoning reinforcements and allowing the entire stronghold to be alerted to her presence. No matter, she thought. She was a paladin of the light, and power flowed through her with righteous fury. Again, they fell upon her, wounding her grievously, yet her mana flowed strong, drained from the very men she fought. She cut them down, her teeth gritted as she spat blood from her mouth, stopping only to cast a spell of healing on herself every few seconds.

As she cut down the tenth man, she could see more soldiers swarming her direction. She shrieked in rage at the soldiers, her knowledge of the common tongue still active. "Bring it! Bring all you have, Scarlet Zealots! The time of your judgement is now at hand! Prepare to fall before a very pissed off warrior of the light!"

Mages and priests began to trickle down to aid their sword wielding brethren, but Lovely didn't care. With a pile of people holding her and hitting her, she walked calmly into the heart of these casters, unleashing an arcane torrent upon them, a gift of her "mother" Clys when she was given the Sin'Dorei body. Her sword cut through the cloth armor of the healers as she made her way to the chapel itself. "I don't think you heard me," she screamed. "Bring me Celuna or every last one of you will die! You have opened a portal of doom upon you today!!! DOOM!!!"

The screams and bloodshed flew about, with Lovely not slowing. Today this would end, and her sister would be safe with her at House Nex'Cruor. And light forbid if her sister had been harmed, because then no Scarlet on the planet would be safe from her rage.

[Skafloc]

"...You have opened a portal of doom upon you today!!! DOOM!!!"

(( Or as translated into modern english, a " can of whoopass! " :D))

[Lovely]

(( Or as translated into modern english, a " can of whoopass! " :D))

((Haha, thats exactly what I thought at first, but then I thought "What would Abric Do" and the DOOM just came out on its own.))

[Mortica]

((dooom!))

[Izrail]

((I can't wait to see how this ends. ^^))

[Celuna]

The original plague was delivered by will alone. Nerubians, ice trolls, others...all victims of the Lich King's decision to gather an army.

What an awesome power, to decide one day that every living creature for miles around should just die, and be awoken undead and become an instrument of your will.

When you say the word plague, most people assume the lesser flexing of power. Ner'zhul recruited Kel'Thuzad to continue the acquisition of bodies for his army by manufacturing that mystical power into a form that could be transported and disseminated in mass quantities. It certainly caused more chaos than the original, and affected more people. But it paled in comparison to the sheer display of power of the original plague.

There was a small part of Viscar that understood that what he was doing was wrong. He just ignored that part, most of the time. His plague, his plague had magical components, but it still required the alchemy, the fluid to contain it. He could not simply think, "Hey, you there. Die, and become my minion for the rest of your undeath."

But he was able to exert his will in other ways. He had a beautiful young wife who couldn't wait for him to get home to satisfy his every sexual whim. He had most of his superiors in the Crusade willing to jump at his every suggestion. There probably wasn't a guard in Tyr's who would report his midnight escapades in the servant's quarters.

And now he had a human subject to test his plague on. He should have just grabbed her by the throat and poured the liquid down it. Right there, right then. But he didn't.

Why?

He stopped outside the door that led into his house. His hands slid past the container of undeath, lower, to the bottom of the pocket to grab the key.

"My Love! Come quickly! Husband? Husband? Where are you?!" He could hear Celuna's frantic cries as he unlocked the door and slid it open. Another lever slid the bookcase to the side.

"Celuna? I am in here." He yelled and sat down at his desk.

She ran into the room, sliding on the smooth wooden floor. She grabbed his arm and pulled him from the chair.

"Someone is attacking Tyr's! They've ordered all of the civilians into the cathedral, you have to come quickly!"

Viscar blinked. "Some one?"

Celuna shook her head in confusion. "What does it matter? We need to get to the cathedral now!" She pulled him through the house and out the front door.

[Lovely]

Lovely turned her head just in time to see Celuna. Her eyes grew wide and she screamed her name, turning her body and moving straight for her. But what was Celuna doing? Why was she holding that disgusting man, and leading him toward the cathedral? Lovely screamed at the man, "Get away from my sister you bastard!!"

A moment later, the pile of people on Lovely grew large, slowing her and hampering her even as they stabbed and slashed at her with their blades. A moment of blackness hit as Lovely saw the blade of a polearm exit the front of her stomach, her blood spraying forth from a mortal wound. With a scream, she reacted with instinct and called forth a holy shield of divine energy, scattering the zealots off her instantly. She stuck her sword in the ground, pulled the polearm from her stomach, and threw it at the Viscar, catching him in the side of the face and tearing a chunk of flesh from his porcine cheek.

The Viscar yelled in pain and grunted, looking at Lovely with anger before Celuna pulled him off balance and the two ran for the cathedral. The Viscar looked at Lovely and pointed, screaming to his men. "KILL HER!!!"

Lovely, with a few seconds left of her shield, called forth holy light and healed herself, the wounds closing completely and her strength returning. She picked up her sword as the bubble of energy faded and spun in a circle, cleaving the head off a zealot as she spit in the Viscar's direction. "Give Celuna to me or I will slay every man, woman, and child in this misbegotten hell you call a stronghold! You hear me, fat man?!"

Several guards tackled Lovely at the same time, driving her back as Celuna and the Viscar (holding his bleeding cheek) ran into the cathedral. She fought valiantly, her mind filled with calm rage...her eyes flashing with vengeance, but a moment later the doors to the church slammed shut.

They could hide, Lovely thought. But that would only delay what was to happen. Lovely would free her sister, and they would be happy together....No Scarlets, no Hellista...Only the two sisters, and love between them.

[Celuna]

Viscar let Celuna lead him towards the cathedral. At one point they were close enough to the battle they could see the lone intruder, a blonde blood elf. Viscar stopped to watch her, something about her catching his attention. Bursts of blinding light betrayed her as a paladin as she sliced through the guards. She looked up, at him. She screamed something, but they were too far away.

The guards had the blood elf surrounded and she looked as if she would fall soon. Impossibly, she pulled a polearm soaked in her blood from her gut. Again shouting at him, she hurled the polearm at him. He watched it arc up in the air, heading straight at him. Celuna screamed and yanked him out of the way, fast enough to save his life, but too slow to avoid it entirely. It scrapped against his cheek, taking a chunk of flesh with it. The wound sprayed blood, making it appear much worse that it was. Celuna cried out in panic, and practically carried him towards the cathedral.

The pain shocked him. He turned against Celuna's attempts to keep him moving. "Kill her!" He yelled, as if the guards needed his blessing. He focused on the woman again, suddenly able to hear her words over the shouts of his men. "Give Celuna to me!"

Celuna? His mind raced as they ran towards the cathedral. How would a blood elf know Celuna, much less care about her?

The large doors shut behind them as they slipped into the cathedral turned refuge. "Call for a priest, we have injuries!" one elderly man yelled, pulling Viscar and Celuna away from the door towards one of the unused pews. A silver-haired woman in a priestess outfit walked towards them slowly but determinately, obviously traveling faster than she was use to moving.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" She muttered, looking from Viscar to Celuna. She channeled a quick renewal on both of them.

Celuna shook her head in protest. "I'm not hurt, please, help my husband!" The elderly priestess was already in midcast though, and slammed Celuna with such a large spell that she glowed with the infusion of Light. The priestess shrugged an apology at her, then turned to Viscar and repeated the spell. He felt the pain in his cheek dissipate and lifted his hand to feel the freshly cauterized wound. He chuckled in relief before turning back to Celuna.

"See my Dear, nothing to...worry...about..." His words slowed as he turned to his wife. She had curled up into a ball on the pew. She held her head in her hands, with a grimace on her face as if she was suffering from a wound much deeper than the cut on his face. He frowned and reached out to her in genuine concern. "Celuna?"

She screamed when he touched her, jerking her hands away from her face. Her eyes had gone wide and wild, staring up at him disoriented. She blinked rapidly, staring around the room then back at him. Her head jerked to the side, and she tried to shake it off the disorientation. Her head then snapped forward, and she was staring at him in horror.

"You...you...BASTARD!" She leapt towards him, tackling him and forcing him off balance. They fell to the floor and Viscar landed on his back with Celuna on top of him pounding into his chest with her fists.

Viscar tried to catch her hands without success. The priestess was stunned, watching the two of them wrestling on the floor. "Oh dear, oh dear!" She started another healing spell, but then stopping in confusion.

Celuna stopped hitting Viscar suddenly and straightened her back. She shook her head again and blinked at him. "That was my sister! She came to rescue me!" She leapt off of him and raced towards the large heavy doors. "Lovely! I'm here! I'm here!"

Viscar was on his feet almost as quickly, running after her. "Stop her!" He waved at the guards, pointing at Celuna. "Stop her NOW!"

Two guards intercepted Celuna, spreading their arms wide to catch her if she tried to get past them. "Now, now Miss, just calm down..."

Celuna shrieked and turned. She crouched down ferally and glanced around wildly. "Lovely! I'm here! Help me!"

Another set of guards ran up to assist the first two.

"She's lost her mind! Don't let her get away!" Viscar screamed at the guards as they slowly surrounded her.

Celuna stared at Viscar, tears welling up in her eyes, all hope lost. He let out a long sigh, relieved. He smiled triumphantly, one corner of his lips twisted up in a sneer. Celuna's eyes widened, and then they narrowed into slits. She growled every ounce of hatred and crouched lower.

"Never!" She screamed at him. "Never again!" She howled and stood up slowly. She stood straight and tall and lifted her right hand to its highest reach, fingers spread wide, and she stared directly at Viscar.

The church burst into light, a beam of blinding white light channeled from the heavens into Celuna. The guards surrounding her threw up their hands to shield them from the sudden brightness. Celuna took one more glance around the room, judging placement of guards and people and furniture. With superhuman strength and speed, she raced towards the back of the church. She jumped from a pew to the altar to the top of a statue and then impossibly she leapt towards one of the large stained glass windows.

She curled in mid-flight, her left shoulder hitting the glass a split second before the rest of her body sailed through the window in a shower of multi-colored glass.

The people in the cathedral gasped in unison. Viscar was already running for the back door. He knew what lay beneath the window.

He raced through the administrative rooms, pushing the doors open frantically, ignoring the pain and the shortness of breath. He locked the doors behind him as he went through them, the guards and other people in the building forced to find a key or break down the doors. He had to reach her. He had to get her back.

He exited the building and looked around wildly, trying to get his bearing on where he was in relation to the broken window. Without care he ran as fast as he had ever run in his life. He had to reach her. He had to have her back.

He rounded the corner and raced towards the cemetery. He could see her, and his emotions fluxed, equally relieved that she hadn't escaped, and terrified at the spectacle she presented.

Her body was speared on single sharp spike of the uneven fenced gateway surrounding the Scarlet's cemetery. She had caught a taller spike in the abdomen and then slid down it, the rest of her body resting on the smaller spikes, contorted. Her blood was pouring out over the wrought iron fence.

He reached her body and tentatively tried to lift her up off of the larger pike.

She gurgled, and then coughed, spitting blood out of her mouth.

She tried to laugh when she saw him, but winced from the pain. She drew in a ragged breath. She tried to sit up but was stopped by the spike. She closed her eyes and with a surge of energy somehow leveraged her hands and feet under her. She arched her back, lifting her torso off of the spike and then tumbled off of the fencing, landing in the gravel and weeds beneath the fencing.

Viscar rushed to her and knelt down, rolling her over onto her back. He sat down and lifted her head, placing it in his lap, gently. He pulled her sticky blood soaked hair away from her face. "Celuna?"

Her eyes fluttered, before opening up part way. "I'm finally escaping you, you bastard," she whispered. Her body convulsed and she coughed out a fresh lungful of blood.

Viscar felt something in his chest lurch. That part of him that sometimes questioned his plans welled up suddenly. "Celuna...wait...I'll get help...they'll be able to heal you..."

"No!"

He slid shaky fingers down the side of her cheek and he felt tears well up in his eyes. "No, you can't leave me..."

She chuckled weakly. "The Light wills it..."

Viscar's emotions snapped back, and he snarled at her. "No!" He fumbled in his pockets, pulling out the container of undeath and snapped open the lid. He pulled the vial out and then shifted her head and pulled her jaw open. She gurgled, surprised, her eyes opening fully for a moment before he poured the greenish liquid down her throat. "No, you can't escape. I will it not."

She choked, her hands grasping, she tried to roll away from him, tried to spit the fluid out, but he held a hand over her mouth until she swallowed.

He capped the vial and placed it back into the container. He watched her for a moment, her eyes shining confusion and fear, before the sounds of a door being bashed open behind him made him realize he needed to hide her. Quickly.

The undertaker's shed was on the other side of the small cemetery. He stood and tried to lift her body, but he wasn't strong enough. He grabbed under her arms and pulled her across the sickly grass. Inside of the shed he found a large coffin that was nearly completed and he dumped her body into it and closed the lid.

The guards would take convincing. Too many witnesses. His brain ran through the scenarios. He would find a way to convince them that she had survived and had gotten away. She probably wouldn't last long...look at all of the blood? No need for a search party. He chuckled to himself a moment before the appearance of guards forced him to act the part of the grief-stricken widower.

[Lovely]

((OMG awesome. I will have to figure out my part...Very nicely done!))

[Celuna]

((OMG awesome. I will have to figure out my part...Very nicely done!))

((Thanks! And yeah, I decided not to kill him off, he's such an awesome bad guy.))

[Lovely]

((When I write my last part I'll make sure he gets away. hehe))

[Lovely]

Lovely had been fighting for what seemed an eternity. The more zealots she killed, the more seemed to pile on her. And as hard as she tried, she could not get the doors to the church to open. They were fortified too much for one woman to break, especially when her strength was spent holding the armored Scarlets at bay.

She worked her way around the side of the cathedral, consecrating the ground as she moved and cutting life and limb from her enemy. A trail of blood and death was behind her, much like the ones at the other strongholds she had destroyed in her search.

Lovely finally came back the the side of the church and could see the cemetery before her. She shrugged more of the men off her and healed herself, then consecrated the ground once more. Viscar glanced in her direction, fully healed from her wound earlier. She pointed her sword at him and yelled at the top of her lungs. "I am Lovely Nex'Cruor, and you have taken my sister!! Give her to me now and I will grant you a merciful death!! Continue to hide her and I will slay every man, woman, child, and beast in this keep!! Know that the light flows strong in me, fool! Stronger than you! Stronger than all of you!"

Viscar thought quickly and spoke. "Guards, release her. Stand down, and I will show this woman her sister."

The guards ceased their attack on Lovely and she spit blood on the ground, staring at Viscar with hatred. He nodded twice over her shoulder and spoke in a raspy voice. "She is here, "paladin." She was trying to run from you....Trying to serve the light, and humanity as a true warrior of the crusade! You have done this!"

Viscar then ripped the lid from the coffin and Lovely's horrified eyes widened as she saw Celuna. She knew instantly that she was dead, and she could see from experience that it was the kind of death that holy magic does not fix.

Before she could fly into a rage, Viscar nodded once more, and Lovely was hit with a mental blast so hard that she felt her mind would explode. She screamed and fell to her knees, and instantly the guards were upon her. Viscar yelled orders to his men. "Kill the witch! She has ensnared the mind of my wife and caused her to die! I want her head!"

Lovely was knocked flat as several weapons impaled her to the ground. Her mind was on fire as she began to black out. With one surge of energy she called forth a globe of holy light, driving the attackers from her in a circle. She grabbed her hearthstone and activated it, gurgling to Viscar "This is not over yet..."

A flash of light appeared, and Lovely was gone. Viscar looked at his guards and faked a mournful look. "Look...Look what she did to my wife....."

[Izrail]

((Still awesome!))

[clys]

((What a great story, truly. I'm catching up on my reading!))