Eleven

Six Fathoms Deep ((Ask for invite))

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Eleven rolled across the deck from the force of the knock-back, finally stopping and groaning a few yards away. It turned its head and stared at Longdang through the smoke as it cleared. The poison was working. While not enough to kill the meaty pandaren, it seemed to be enough to keep him down for a final blow. Eleven was determined, slowly pushing itself to its knees then up to its feet. It hunched over and staggered forward, still clutching its chest. Its free hand felt around its legs before reaching over pulling the larger blade from its back. It didn't reply, only basked.

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Rhysta watched, as the fouled dagger was plunged into Long’s side. Wincing, she pushed a wave of healing at Long, and then she tried casting a cleansing spell, sending it toward Long and hoping that it worked in time. “Light, aid me now!”

((Detox))

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Rhysta's heal did little to lessen the pain in Long's side, it was the cleanse that eased it though only slightly, it was enough for him to focus. Eleven was fast approaching with an even larger dagger then before. Long didn't have time for a spell, so he would rely on a totem. He reached behind him and grabbed a green totem with a tiny brown bag attached to it from his belt. He quickly slams the totem into the deck of the ship and rips open the tiny bag and pours the contents beside it. A small pile of sand rests on the deck in front of Long, as the totem releases a strong and sudden pulse, possibly slowing Eleven's advance. The small pile of sand begins to grow larger and larger, until a Large Earth Elemental stands between Long and Eleven. Long glances up at the Elemental and sighs heavily hoping it can hold that creature off long enough for Rhysta's cleanse to take effect.

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Within the bowels of the dread ship, Altherion's Blackguard rose once again. Despite the numerous attacks of the Paladin against its body, as well as the magical fluctuation of Tuuroto's portal, the creature didn't seem to show any signs of stopping. One of its massive arms shattered off from the combined might of light and the poor effects of rusting. The Blackguard then began to glow with a deep violet magic, the saronite based form repairing itself. The tendrils of magic rose from the creatures central Soulstone, and as the lighting in the room flickered from flame and magic, it flowed over the machine.

The Blackguard may have been successful, though any hope at that was crushed with the destruction of segments of the roof. As the flaming board neared the plague barrels, the Behemoth was all too focused on Cyllos. With the explosion, the remaining ruined circuits broke apart and launched into the sea. A now burning, still glowing Soulstone launched into the sky, before impaling itself on the ice of Zolkor's path of frost. The tendrils of energy would lance outwards, the ice growing unstable with the magic. Cyllos would be flung into the water near his brother, though his prey's "corpse" was now sinking deep into the ocean.

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Zolkor gazes upon the soulstone, the energy emitting from it seduced him with its dance . He walked slowly towards it and picked it up, and observed it carefully . Without thinking , the Death Knight took out his Runeblade and looking at both the weapon and the stone.

He crushed the stone and a blast of dark energy poured outward as the runeblade absorbed its power till its last bit of power. The blade glowed purple momentarily and Zolkor's eyes flashed briefly. He shakes his head to snap out of his daze, remembering what he was set out to do and continued to walk again.

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There had been so much blood.

Altherion remained atop his vessel, unmoving, as the chaos unfurled around them. He exalted in the madness, in particular the whirlwind of gore his Kvaldir created. The marauders of the north had been treacherous to deal with, and now that they had been in his charge for so long, their own signs of true undeath began to show. Without influencing the battle in one way or another, he had witnessed the slaughter without emotion.

With a hand outstretched to the sky once more, the Death Knight had started to summon additional undead. Perhaps, with assistance, they could fully overwhelm the—

An explosion of light and sound, a splintering glacier.

The order was stalled by the tearing of dimensional gateways, the crushing of space and time into Tuuroto’s massive portal.

Altherion moved from his spot for the first time since he had slain the huntress. With quick movements, he had made it to the bow of his ship, in time to be momentarily buffeted by the harsh, magical winds. Instead of being deterred, the magic only seemed to bolster his resolve. The dread ship, however, was not so lucky. The topsail ripped, the cloth having flown off into the darkened skies. Several planks of wood exploded upwards, Lixxel’s property barely in working condition.

The Death Knight had once again paused, taking the time to assess the situation. Was the Admiral attempting to summon a powerful creature, or was he attempting to flee? No matter. The portal was big enough for a ship, and so, it would accommodate all of their coffins.

His anger began to mount as another explosion rocked his once proud vessel. The collapse of the captain’s cabin, as well as the plague slime that coated the ship, finally served to rouse him into action. Altherion didn’t bother to move from the choking mists, instead, he basked in their sickly corruption.

The final interruption to his idea came in the form of Zolkor. When the Blackguard soul merged into the other Knight, Altherion’s plan crystalized in his mind. He would be rid of them. He would be rid of everyone. Even his pawns, imbued with his rage, had been failing him this entire time.

“Shabtir bakh sokhen.”

There would be no more reliance on others.

The spell uttered, Altherion’s minions began to glow a sickly shade of blue. Their flesh would melt, much in the way Reroma’s did, as any and all magic binding them together shattered. Their actions were the opposite of her departure, as his undead did not resist in any way. They bowed to their master’s request. From the recently damned Kvaldir, to the corpses of the fallen Redblades, all would heed his call. The only corpses untouched would be Vennathros, high atop the ship, and Zolkor, far off in the waters.

With his axe held in the air, the Death Knight made ready to receive his pawns. Their magic, once his, returned to him en masse. Tendrils of it coiled around the ship, flowing directly into his runeblade. Altheron closed his eyes, but the power was far too much. The impressive display would leave deep burn marks along the wooden frame of his ship, and a section of the mast would be shattered beneath the combined force of Tuuroto’s portal and Altherion’s call. The axe, now sated with the vast amount of magic and souls, no longer hungered. Instead, the magic flowed directly into the Death Knight.

Even as the pillar of oak crashed into the sea, his helmet would begin to experience small tears along the saronite. From the base of his easily recognizable faceguard, to the tip of one of the spines, the frame let out a groaning crack as it slowly tore apart. It would be stalled, however, as he opened his eyes, a flash of magic similar to Tuuroto’s appearing in them.

“I am Lord Altherion Deathrend. And this is the end of your world.”

The Death Knight, eyes burning with both rage and untold magic, held his empowered blade towards the living. The souls of his dozens of undead screamed in the northern winds, a tide of death magic eating away at both his ship and those near it. The massive spell started to flow towards the heroes, and any in its path would be instantly torn apart, their souls added to the ranks of his damned. From Surwich innocent, to Redblade solider, none were spared the scouring of life upon his ship.

Altherion remained unphased, not even with the display of strength, and the Redblades may realize their folly in sailing into his trap.

With each felled foe, the spell would grow, the Defile reaching a critical mass as its muddled coils burst forth. The corruption had fully engulfed his vessel, and as the indomitable march of death swept towards the Redblades, hope waned. They would not be the last to fall to him, for their demise would only add to his burgeoning power.

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<Arcane Telepathy> “Liiisten ev’ryvone! Retrieve Reroma’s body and any ally still aboard Altherion’s zhip! Zhen, get ze FEL avay from him and his ship!

ZHAT IS ORDER!

NOW!!!”

It took several minutes for the ley lines and raw arcane energy to stabilize at the base of the massive portal that Tuuroto had conjured; the intense magical energy emanating from the portal had caused the glacier’ sedges to deteriorate into massive ice floes that plummeted to the arctic waters below. Now towering at nearly a hundred meters in height, the portal glowed with a perfect, almost heavenly white light, such that prolonged staring into the portal would cause irrevocable damage to one’s eyesight.

At that point, Tuuroto felt confident in his plan, that is, until he noticed from afar that Altherion was raising his ebon axe, presumably in some counter magic effort. The Draenei Admiral watched in fear as he saw Altherion channel his foul, defiling powers across the watery battlefield. Tuuroto knew that if he didn’t end the battle here and now, the Redblades would surely fall.

Thus, Tuuroto closed his eyes and lowered his head, tightly clenching his fists as he tried to concentrate all of his mana and life essence into his next spell. He could sense Madam CEO Lixxel Blingspark flying around, aiding in the battle, but Tuuro didn’t want to coerce the goblin trickster into aiding him in the forbidden act he was about to commit.

“Vands of Ambition,

Cups of Emotion,

Swords of Power,

Pentacles of Stability,

Arcana…GRANT ME STRENGTH!”

Upon finishing his incantation, the portal started to flicker, followed by an ear deafening roar.

Out from the hundred meter portal came the head of giant arcane elemental: an abomination so grotesquely large that only its upper body was able to squeeze and violently thrash its way through the portal. Like the portal itself, the arcane abomination glowed in a white fluorescent hue with the exception of its piercing black void eyes. Anyone adept or sensitive to magic could not help but tremble at the concentration of raw arcane energy all in one place. It was the type of concentrated energy that could quite feasibly cause another sundering on Azeroth.

But the arcane elemental didn’t stop in its berserk struggle. Instead, the abomination outstretched its colossal hand and began clawing at the ocean, making gigantic splashes that escalated into back-to-back tidal waves which crashed onto the walls of both ships. With each reckless, destructive swipe, the arcane elemental’s arm inched its way toward Altherion ship.

SMASH!!

In a sudden, almost desperate, lunge, the arcane elemental clenched its titan-sized fist onto Altherion’s ship. The abomination’s fingertips were large enough to wrap around the entirety of the ship’s frame, save for the mast that had already fell into the sea. Some of Altherion’s minions would be caught by the elemental’s grasp: the minions’ bones would first be crushed by the impact and then their bodies would begin to burn by the searing power of the dazzling, raw arcane energy, until their bodies would fully disintegrate into nothingness. All the while, the elemental’s grip continued to tighten, crushing the meager ship until its deck began to concave onto itself.

There was an unexpected moment of deadly calm.

Finally, the arcane elemental monstrosity let out a wicked grin before retreating his arm in one swift motion and pulling the entirety of Altherion’s ship, and everyone and anything on it, into the portal.

In that instant, everything had vanished:

…the portal,

…the elemental,

…the enemy ship,

…the Undead minions and followers,

… and Altherion.

Still atop of the now empty glacier, Tuuroto fell to his knees, though he was able to muster enough energy to grin at the success of his plan and the supposed safety of his comrades.

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Rhysta felt Tuuro's words. She noted where the head of the huntress was last seen, and ran over to that side of the ship. Peering down into the mist and murky water, she spotted it again. She yelled for help, "Someone grab my hooves!" She leaned far out over the railing, and using a polearm, managed to pull the bobbing head closer to the ship; and then slowly, carefully, inched it up the side until she was able to grab its hair.

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The arcane energy radiating from the abomination was enough to physically hurt Loc, who had been busy trying to stay alive between the cannon fire and Altherion's unholy magic all the while dragging Reroma's headless body with him so there would be something to salvage when all of this nonsense (to him, that is) was over. With no efficient way to climb back onto the ship from his position, he was left to wait in the water for now. The snow leopard had to let go of the dead elf's arm as he was temporarily blinded by the light of the portal, roaring in pain as he felt the presence of Tuuroto's creature. Everything about this entire situation was unnatural, but he found that he couldn't look away once the elemental started doing its work. He waded in the freezing water as it grabbed the ship as if it was some sort of toy and dragged it through the portal, and Loc simply stared on in amazement at what had just happened.

Clearly, he had underestimated the Draenei.

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Lixxel watched the scene in awe. Her jaw dropped in the sudden pause of silence. A moment later, she fell to her knees at the demise of her ship and sobbed.

"No..."

She wanted the man who almost killed her dead. Her ship was gone... in pieces. Failure. Debt. Debt. Tuuroto.

He was the least reliable of all her clients. They failed her mission. What he just did to her ship. What he just did in GENERAL!

Those not educated in the arcane could not even comprehend the danger of the act he committed. There was a reason it was forbidden. Everything he did... Anger grew in the little trickster. This was a serious crime.

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Eleven only needed one look at Longdang's elemental before it decided to find cover in the chaos. As it stepped back, clutching its chest, ready to throw another smoke bomb, it felt the energy drawing away. Its lesser undead comrades began to fall one-by-one around it. It turned to see its master drawing in the power. The next few events happened in a slow-motion to Eleven, one which it could not control, until that moment of calm where the elemental held the dreadship in its grip.

Without regard for the shaman or his elemental, Eleven dropped its long blade and moved to the edge of the ship to dart back across the harpoon chains, but the connection snapped as the harpoon was stripped from the Redblade hull.

The portal closed. It could not save its master. It gripped the rail; its main hand had been scorched raw from Longdang grabbing it, a hole in the glove showing bits of the red and white burned flesh. A thought prodded the back of its mind which turned into a realization.

Eleven was the only one left, surrounded by Redblades and allies. The sound of a scraping blade now echoed in the quiet as Eleven prepared to defend itself.

"Alone."

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The loud noises and overwhelming arcane power helped Amalil come to. Slowly but surely he regained consciousness, and before he could even open his eyes the pain hit him like a steam tank. His ribs ached and the gash on his side from the Skeletons sword was still wet with blood, and pulsed with pain. He still sported a dark burn from the Death Knights attack on his leg that felt like it was to close to a fire, and it radiated dark energy. But it was nothing a little healing couldn't fix.

The real worry was inside Amalils mind, the feral thoughts of the bear were still dominating him. It was hard to keep his own thoughts afloat, but the pain mixed with a now lack of adrenaline and rage from the bear had been enough to push Amalils thoughts forward. Concentrating hard, the bear stood and Amalil attempted to shift back into his humanoid form. But an instant before he started, something caught his eye. The goblin.

Amalil had a deep hate for the Horde and those who chose to ally with them, with the exception of a few Tauren druids. His mind flashed back to the forests of Ashenvale and the miles of forest cut for the Orc war machine, all the Sentinels who gave their lives to defend his home, all the innocent who were slaughtered by the brutish Horde, his parents...

The bear on the other hand had one thought on his mind: Food. He was tired and hurt, all his instincts told him to eat and then rest and lick his wounds. This wasn't a Redblade, this wasn't the panda that helped him. No, in his eyes this green skinned person was no more then prey. The bear started to move forward, as Amalil once again started to lose control over his feral side. He had no desire to kill the Goblin, but the bear was fueled by the sudden anger from Amalil and his own desire to eat.

The bear growled as it made its way towards the Goblin.

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Lixx was too preoccupied to pay attention to the bear until she felt his growl on her shoulder and the rumble in her large pointy ear. Startled, she jumped and waved a hand to send a blast of arcane his way... but nothing came out. In shock, Lixxel wouldn't figure out until it would have been too late that the disruption in the ley lines caused by the massive portal also disrupted her magic.

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Cyllos swam up to the surface after the huge explosion of the plague barrels sent him flying into the sea. The shock of the blast and the feeling of his body smacking into the freezing cold water temporarily knocked the Paladin unconscious. After a no more than 3 minutes under the water , the Draenei looked up and attempted to swim to the surface. He found himself at the Redblades ship and climbed up to the deck.

His armor was shattered. His glove, shoulder and helmet were all missing and the rest had large cracks outside of the set. A combination of quick thinking and his armor kept the paladin from suffering a fate worse than death. Right as the blast ignited the paladin threw up a bubble shield which shortly dissipated from hitting some ice.

He let out a big sigh when he was welcomed by a bear was chasing after a goblin, who appeared to be unable to defend herself for some strange reason. He waved his hand in front of him and let out a Judgement towards the bear's Head , "Down Boy!"

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Zolkor sighs as his master and the ship was dragged down by a giant Arcane elemental. 'Now that is just bad luck...' He sighs to himself, but he wasn't worried. His master should be fine, he sensed a larger power in him then some silly Arcane Familiar . Still, he was going to have to occupy his time his time somehow now that he was missing. He looked towards the last standing ship, considering his options of killing everyone on board. He was about to head towards the ship when a familiar skull taps his hoof.

The skull gazes at his master , "Hello master, I've done all I can...I am sorry." The Death Knight picks up the skull and sighs, "You are weak...I cannot tolerate weakness." He considered his options of wether or not he should toss the skull away. Without his master around, he was going to need all the allies he could get until he shows up again, and he did not know where the other 10 minions could be. "But weakness can be redeemed. Are you willing to go through my training?" The skull attempts to nod, only realizing he has no neck to do so. "Yes master, you are most merciful."

He chuckles at the skull calling him master and merciful. He waves a hand to open a Death Gate and walks on through , "Now lets find you a body..."

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With Cyllos having quelled the upset bear, there would be no further sign of combatants on the remaining ship. Save one. The water where Altherion's vessel had once floated was still burning with a corruption that sought to spread and lash out, but found potential victims too far away. Without a true power source, it would dwindle and fade.

As a matter of fact, with Zolkor's departure, all of the Death Knight's magic would be eradicated from the area. The dead Kvaldir, bodies ash or sunk to the sea, no longer used their mist magic. The graveyard of ships began to experience a few rays of sunshine. For all his harsh words, there wasn't a real stain on the world beside the dead Redblades.

The stolen corpses, and, of course, the one remaining enemy.

Eleven was uncharacteristically active, for one of their apparent "condition." As a matter of fact, with the gentle rise and fall of their chest, the slight shiver at the Northrend cold, and the fact that they stood where no other Undead did, the living may recognize Eleven as one of their own.

Why would something still alive serve so dark a master? A master whose voice once boomed in their head, now empty and hollow from their separation. Their choice of allegiance may cost them, as they were now surrounded by hostile Surwich sailors and the remaining Redblade crew. As alone and trapped as the numerous victims they had strung upon the dread ship.

Eleven continued to brace itself for whatever judgement was to come.

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As the spell hit Amalil in the face, the bear roared louder. It sent a shock into his mind and seemed to stun the bear. "Now's my chance!" Amalil thought to himself and put all his effort into one final attempt. He felt his torso shrink and lengthen, as did his front legs which turned into his long muscular arms. Finally the Kald'orei was himself, he collapsed onto his knees in front of the goblin. His green hair hung in his face and hid the shame on his face. His amber eyes finally looked up at the others. "I'm... Sorry." But before anyone could reply, Amalil noticed Eleven. Acting quickly he try'd his best to rise to his feet, but his wounds were great.

From his knees he pushed out with his hands towards Eleven, attempting to engulf him in a whirlwind. After, he would collapse again. Blood still seeping slightly from his side.

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Eleven, trapped in the whirlwind, dropped its weapon and spun a few times, trying to gather its footing. As the winds blew out, it shook outs its dizzy head and raised its arms.

"Parlay."

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Amalil stood, using his spear as a crutch and glared at Eleven. "You deserve only death, creature." He said, but he waited for one of the others to move first. He did his best to stand tall. With all that had gone wrong, they had still won.

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Loc let out another loud roar, this one meant to be heard from long distances. If he didn't let anyone know he was still there, there would be no getting out of the water for him. He stayed near the body of his mistress, the sub-zero temperatures of the ocean not seeming to affect him.

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Cyllos sighs at the person inside the whirlwind. "Well he said Parlay, I suppose we should have him see the Admiral..." He walks towards the person, "But first...Lets see what is under this mask, shall we?" Cyllos pulls off the mask.

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Evellin had spared no time to dive off the ship; it wasn't hers, and there was no way she was going to go down with it. Her boots connected with semi-solidified ice that hadn't had enough time to harden, cracking at the impact and forcing her right foot through. She growled, yanking it out, a path of ice forming out in front of her. She lunged a few steps forward and hesitated, glancing over her shoulder.

Gone. Where had they gone? She didn't know, she didn't care to find out. She hadn't come here to witness a clash between an army and gigantic monster summoned by a Draenei whose blood was questionable at best. Evellin remembered the Outlands. She remembered the demons... she didn't trust that a bigger problem hadn't just been unleashed.

The Death Knight would keep moving until she hit land.

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Eleven tried to slap away Cyllos, snarling out some gibberish before he was able to take hold of its saronite helm and remove it.

Long, dark, maroon-tinted, matted hair fell in front of its dirty face. Despite the armor and looks, one could tell this person was alive. It hid its face and looked away, shaking violently. "Fff-friends no fff-hope no kshhh-kill! Master!"

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Cyllos looks around to find that the Dreadship was gone and along with Altherion. He scowls a bit and sighs, "Your master isn't here, He has..." He tries to look around to see what has happened since he was blown off the ship. "Disintergrated? Where is the ship? What happened?"

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