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Darrethy Voidblade

Eclipse: Purging.

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The sky looked like it was on fire.

He stepped over the dead, his hand running through his bloodstained blond hair. The man's chest was covered in slashes and burns, in places muscle was visible under his simple brown tunic, he gripped the cold steel tightly in his hand as people ran through the streets, the beat of drums behind them. It felt like a waking dream as he walked forward one step at a time, barely noticing the bodies bumping into him or collapsing to the cobblestone in a spray of blood.

"Abberations..."

Human skulls dangled from their belts, spikes adorned their armor and their eyes glowed a burning red, the green aberration broke through the gate while howling the the skies, he could swear it was raining blood all around him.

"For Lordaeron...." he whispered, his free hand clenched into a fist "For justice, for Anduin...." his eyes snapped up at the first, watching it hack apart man, woman, and child with it's barbaric axe. This monster glanced only to the man long enough to see his blade cut through his throat in a spray of red mist, he moved with an almost more then human speed as the orc was disemboweled, and promptly kicked to the side.

A dozen red eyes fixed on him now, as one their voices cried out in rage.

"I have to do this, it's only right..."

An axe whistled by his head, a single strand of hair falling to the floor before he was out of range of the next strike. His blade danced over one brutes head, knocking a horned helmet aside just as he was knocked to the ground with a kick to his gut, another rushed in only for that same blade to spin around and dig itself into his stomach. Seething with rage the creature pushed through the pain and slammed his axe into the man's side, sending him spinning with a spray of blood from his shoulder, yet he refused to give up and within minutes another one was cut down as his blade went to his other hand, then into and up that monsters jaw.

"But this is not where we should be, this is not what we were supposed to..."

He staggered back, wounds gaping from his shoulder and his thigh, somehow a lucky strike had caught him and he hadn't even noticed. He looked with bleary eyes at those around him, blood dripping from his mouth as he raised his sword....

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"I can't even feel it anymore."

The shield buckled under the blades weight, fel flame searing at the Worgens skin as he stumbled backward and into the mud, staring briefly at the sky as cries of agony erupted around him. Everything was burning with fel fire from the trees to the tents, the undead horror wielding the sword seemed to stalk forward with purpose, even as arrows thudded into the defilers tabard covering his chest, the green eyes of it's helm growing brighter as wings rose from his back and his sword worked in arcane gestures, unleashing bolts of raw magic at those around and sending them crashing to the floor in a pool of blood and burnt flesh.

He looked down at the Gilnean "Tell me about the incident in Stormwind, in detail...." the tip of the blade rested against the Worgens throat "Do so and I might show some mercy, or I might show you just what you deserve."

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The worgen looked up at him in horror and started babbling. He told Darrethy about how a plague had spread from the district by the Cathedral of Light, how someone named Reverend Jameson Smithe had been quick to depart, how there were rumors the Lord Commander Stepanos DelaCroix had been notified...

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That last revelation, that got his attention.

He lifted his blade from the Worgens throat, even though everything in his body told him he should kill the beast then and there "If Stephanos knows, then the citizens of the Alliance are in danger." he muttered to himself, spinning the blade in his hands before sheathing it...almost entirely forgetting the man was even there now.

"He'd kill them all, or worse, just for his insane take on the light.""

"They cannot be left undefended."

"Their blood would be on your hands."

He muttered something to himself, whirling around and leaving the terrified Worgen to his thoughts among the dead and dying.

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He brushed the blond hair from his eyes as he brought up his bow, he had packed light to say the least: Simple brown leather pants and shoes, a small pack of food, his sword and a quiver of arrows. He stood atop one of many branches in the black morass, more accustomed to hopping tree to tree rather then trudging through the thick marshland.

The tip of his arrow shone brightly in the darkness as he took aim, in the distance was a firepit and more then a few hulking figures waiting around it.

"For Lordaeron!"

One arrow became five, sinking into one of the monsters gut and catching two in the throat, their ramshackle armor shrugging off the two as they suddenly got up from their fire and drew their axes. Orcs were remarkably tough though he knew, and so he wasn't surprised when even one of those who had been slashed across the neck managed to staunch the wound and stalk out into the swamp. They knew where he was, or thought they did as he jumped from one branch to another.

The bow sang as an orc caught another arrow in his side, blood in the water as his red eyes darted around frantically. To him it must of seemed like the darkness was coming alive, and out of desperation he threw his axe into the tree tops, missing of course even as two more shots rang out and felled one of his friends.

So distracted were they, that they didn't even notice his companions in the expedition appearing behind them, the Horde would be brought to it's knees today.

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"This is below me, Voidblade."

The gnoll was suddenly cut into a thousand slices of meat as the Shivarra emerged from the darkness, the Assassin Priests dancing blades felling the group before they could so much as cry in terror. Darrethy threw forward another volley of shadowbolts, silencing their shaman before he could run.

"This has to be done Alizabal, if there's any sort of executions in Stormwind or people being dragged off into the night, I want to be there to put a stop to it." the Warlock replied as he knelt down inside the camp, it afforded a good view of the gates....perfect for raiders, he knew that all too well whenever he was involved in an attack on the city....and it should be just as good for spying.

"Why do you care so much? It's not as though you've never cut down an innocent."

"Not when I could help it, there may come a day when we have no choice but to burn this place to the ground in order to ensure the safety of my own people. But that day is not today, and I will not see lives tossed away casually." he began a slow chant, and slowly a green eye began to form.

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"We did everything for Azeroth, how could....why would...."

The guard shoved the man back into a tree, a little blood on his lip "Get back peasant! none of you sponges are allowed in Gilneas, King Greymanes orders that these gates are to be sealed and no one is to be let through." he gripped his halbard tightly, the massive gates of 'The Wall' behind him.

"Sponges....sponges?!" he looked back and pointed at a rain slicked bridge just in the distance "We did everything for this world and you're going to shut us out? not just us, but every Gilnean outside of the Northgate? Y-you...you MONSTERS! your king is out of his damned m-"

He felt the punch collide with his cheek as he fell into the mud, he could of dodged it easily...he could of slit the man open right there, but it wouldn't help anything. He just spat blood into the mud, looking up as he felt hatred take hold of his heart "You didn't help in the first war, nor the second, you just watched the world burn and then claimed victory as yours, like the cowardly glory hounds your lot are." he didn't even care as he felt the leather boot smash into his ribs, knocking him over on his back.

"Men, women, children, fathers, mothers, brothers, all dead!" he continued even as he was kicked again "I hope...the Northgate turns on their tyrant of a king, and burns your whole city down. If that old bastard lost his son, he'd be wailing in the dirt like a child...." his vision faded as the beating continued, until he stopped yelling and slowly became unresponsive altogether.

He stared up at the grey cloudy sky as a shadow came over him, a woman he vaguely registered. She knelt down to him and offered him her hand, a babe in her other arm with two teenage girls at her side "Darrethy..." she whispered softly, looking at him with sad blue eyes just under her brown hair "...It'll be okay, we'll go somewhere else...to Lordaeron proper, maybe it'll be safer." she gripped him tightly and pulled...

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Alizabal pulled the Warlock up and onto the stockhade, he looked tiredly at the stonework.

"Almost done..."

He looked down below, frowning a bit at some of the blood spatters on the stonework, he had tossed one of the guards behind some crates and hoped he wouldn't be found until the dawn. "...Dangerous, but more dangerous to stay here any longer then need be." he turned around, and began summoning another eye "Hopefully, this should keep the prisoners safe from any Scarlet Crusade wannabes."

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"So few things to smile about, but i'm glad Arthas is home."

Darrethy leaned forward on the the table, pouring them both a glass of wine as rosepetals fell to the streets below, up here the nobles had thrown a small party in his honor and he had been more then happy to attend. His wife, Cheryl, returned that smile with one of her own as she got comfortable. He watched the soldiers march down below and tried to stifle a longing in his heart...he wasn't a soldier...not anymore.

He watched as the great doors to the palace opened and Arthas stepped inside, he couldn't help but notice the prince seemed to be in a rather dour mood but dismissed it. He turned and took a deep drink, but his eyes snapped open as something splashed against his face.

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"Is that really necessary?" Darrethy wiped the blood from his face, looking over at his succubi's gore drenched form.

Domixa shook her head, rolling up her whip "What did you expect? It's hard to kill someone with one of these, you have to snap it in such a way that it tears and ruptures." he had sent Alizabal back for now, she needed to attend to things back at the Raven's Gate.

The Warlock looked over at the dead and dying bodies, a Stormwind patrol that had been sent into the woods. It was a mess of torn flesh, spilled entrails, and gurgling. But he shook his head in turn and dismissed his Sayaads eccentricities. Domixa more then any other demon in his command was close to him, she had been his pact partner since initiation and at this point their souls had almost...merged...with one another, linked by an invisible chain, whenever the thrill of battle came over them he always felt more powerful knowing she was by his side.

"We should make our way back home, I have little doubt the Alliance knows we're here by now. But we've done what we needed to do, and hopefully the Alliance does not find their placement."

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