Netherbane

Demon Hunters in the World of Warcraft

Filtering by Category: Vignettes

Veldrinas: Requiem

Dalaran

Veldrinas stood on the outer grassy edge of the city of Dalaran with his hands clasped behind his back, and though he stood stock straight, his posture was relaxed.

He gazed south with a stony expression towards the wide open ocean as the sun began to set. It was a beautiful vista. But he did not smile and take pleasure in the rare moment. His thoughts were preoccupied with the recent happenings. Sraath, the Burning Legion, the rekindled faction war, the burning of Teldrassil, and the subsequent siege and Alliance pyrrhic victory over the Horde in Lordaeron.

Unbidden, an old memory came to the surface. One from so long ago, it could have been from a different person.

Then again, I was. Veldrinas thought wryly.

* * *

The sun was nearing the horizon  and Veldrinas had awoken early. He stood outside his abode in Ashenvale, watching the sun give way to the coming of night. Standing next to him, leaning on his shoulder, was his wife, Faelivren. His arm was around her, and they were both smiling, blissful even.

* * *

The memory faded and Veldrinas was brought back to the present. At last, the demon hunter indulged in a little smile. After a few more moments, he spoke softly.

"We succeeded, my love. The Burning Legion has been defeated. At long last, your spirit may find peace."

As the hunter continued to watch the day fade to the onset of night, he could have sworn that someone was standing next to him, leaning on his shoulder, her silver hair flowing in the gentle breeze.

Warnings

"Yes," Rephaia sighed. "I am aware that the Soulthorn's wards make things difficult. I am the one who warned you about them, architect. Just do the best you can."

"Confessor," the large draenei replied, exasperation lining his voice more so than any other emotion, "many of my workers have been injured already. The path near the tower has claimed blood from at least four of my own. I have left one there to look for other triggers, but we cannot keep working under these conditions. Those wards need to be taken down!"

The Lightforged paladin shook her head with a deep frown. "No. We have received word that the Horde is moving on Ashenvale, and they may already be here. We cannot afford to take down any of the defensive wards."

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Heaven's Door

It started as silence; a stillness that longed to feel movement, like a tired muscle forced to remain unmoving for too long. There was an energy behind this silence--a sense of urgency and a build-up of anticipation. The underlying tension increased with each passing moment, with each passing breath.

Though, there should have been no breaths here. There was nothing but scattered wreckage from a battle recently fought and won. Or perhaps it was lost? That depended on which side you were on, of course.

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Veldrinas: To Honor the Fallen

Ashenvale Forest

Veldrinas is seated in front of a small campfire near the ruins of Forest Song. The heat of the summer evening coupled with the heat of the fire causes sweat to trickle down the side of his face, but he pays it no mind. No, instead the demon hunter is reminiscing about how close he and his friends came to annihilation at the hands of Sraath the Eclipse. The doom lord would have succeeded were it not for the sacrifice of one brave soul, Taldarion. Though Veldrinas was not personally close to the hunter, they shared a bond through affiliation with Tharion Greyseer, which would have made him a brother-in-arms, and perhaps even family.

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Shizukera: Aftermath

Shizukera stares at the skull in her hand, hesitant. She doesn’t know what to think or how to feel, so she lets her thoughts swirl about chaotically in her mind. It’s an oddly poetic balance: as chaotic and overcrowded as her mind is, her soul is the opposite, full of nothing but emptiness and a deafening silence.

You shouldn’t have let him go back alone.

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Daughters

Shazadi walked through the quiet halls of what remained of the Umbral Eclipse. This was all that was left, now, after all the rest had fallen away. This was it, the "spire": the original shape of the vessel. It was ancient beyond measure, one of the first of these ships as used by the Burning Legion, one of the prototypes created for those whose task it was to be at the forefront of the Burning Crusade. Or to remain as rearguard against whatever lurked beyond the Outer Gates.

The vessel lurched, and Shazadi braced herself against one of the walls. There was a battle raging above as the Netherbane attempted to put a final end to Sraath and his mad reach for godhood. 

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Others

Something pulled him back together. The blast had sliced its way through his molecules, separating them and disintegrating his form. It has also scrambled his soul, severing the connection to the body and cutting it loose into the Twisting Nether.

It had been, undoubtedly, a powerful weapon. The House of Gis should be commended.

But something did not want any of it to have happened, and so he was not allowed his psuedo-death. Not yet, at least. Not here, in this place in between.

He--coalesced was the best way to describe it. He coalesced out of the residual energies from the blast and reformed. His bones came together first, followed quickly by muscles and skin. But something was missing. Some physical parts of him had actually been vaporized by the blast, and there was nothing left to coalesce from.

That's when it reached outward from the gate, and put him back together itself. It used part of its own essence to complete him. Dark energy fused with material from this realm and shaped it into shadow-flesh. It was wonderfully similar to the soulshaping Sraath had been used to, but somehow more.

He felt cold, however, very cold. The heat of the fel was gone complete, leaving an emptiness that tried to draw in everything else around it.

His skin shifted on his body and writhed against this new cold. It split, growing teeth and trying to consume whatever it could; trying to consume the fabric of reality. It was a hunger now; an absolute, faceless hunger.

There were still souls here. He could still feel them, drifting away on the remains of his once-great fortress. He could still reach out, however, still touch their life energies.

He could still feed…

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Descension

There was no roar of flames, no superheated blast that raced through the open corridors of the ship. There was no massive lurch as countless tons of force were suddenly unleashed upon a small internal chamber of the Umbral Eclipse.

There was a flash of light, and then silence. It was an unnatural silence; the silence of unexpected deafness, of a heart suddenly stopping. It was the silence of two lovers parting ways after countless years, but without having the chance to say goodbye.

The Umbral Eclipse shuddered, a thick and slow vibration that stole balance and bruised bodies. It happened once, lasted for a few seconds, and then ceased. Any sound that could have come from the vibration was choked out by the oppressive silence.

This all happened in an instant; a singular moment of time sliced from the chronology of creation and frozen for what felt like an eternity. Then it was done.

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Poeryth: Souless

It was the second “blip” that did it. The first time was terrifying. Poe was not sure what would happen, whether she would die. (Unthinkable.) That countdown was a secret form of torture, in her friend’s voice.

But after a moment of well, discomfort, it was fine. Everything was still in shape. She felt slightly odd, like she was two places at once, stretched but still whole.

The second time something ripped.

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Shatterbound: Endgame

“Taldarion, if you are about to do something stupid, we are going to have to throw you like we did that demon,” Fethas snarled.

“Stupid, Fethas? When have you ever worried about me being stupid? You know me better than that.”  Ushering her quickly through the closing door, Taldarion called ahead to his mate. “Remember, love. Find Greyseer. Stop the ritual.” He turned back and spoke to himself more softly. “I have a bomb to fix.”

Then the door closed between them, and he was alone with an unconscious demon lord.

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