Once everyone gathered had left, Ashagga turned to unfinished business. Pulling a length of rope from her backpack, capped with a small, metal hook, she knelt by the edge of the spire, looking down, down, down at the bubbling hot springs below. Her eye narrowed. A group of centaur had gathered, but they were too far away for her to make out more details. Yet, she knew.
One of them had lifted Sul'thraze.
She dug the hook into the edge of the plateau and stepped back from the edge, playing out some of the rope. Tightening her gloves, she took a deep breath and, remembering Yichimet's words with a smile, hurled herself off the cliff. The rope tore through her hands, and she gritted her teeth, her stomach lurching up into her throat. Not yet... not yet...
Her hands suddenly clenched around the rope, and she tried hard not to cry out as the sudden jerk nearly tore her arms from their sockets. Her momentum carried her down the rope a few more yards, before she kicked at the stone needle and propelled herself out and away. Still clinging to the rope, she swung around the needle, now, shedding downward momentum for horizontal. When she contacted the stone again, she began running down, playing the rope out as she went.
She was picking up speed again, and as she ran around the plinth, nearly rappelling down, she came into sight of the centaur again. One of them held Sul'thraze aloft triumphantly, and the others were bickering in Kalimag. None of them looked up as she released the rope. None of them heard the small sound as she unsheathed her swords.
They didn't notice her until she was among them.
She landed beside one, ignoring the sharp twinge that ran up her left leg as she swiped backward and up with her sword, decapitating the unfortunate centaur. The others reared back like panicked horses, lashing out with their hooves. One caught her on the shoulder, and she rolled with the blow, under a third centaur's flailing legs. Hot guts spilled onto the floor of the Thousand Needles as she came up past the falling corpse, looking to the remaining three. The leader, the one wielding the Lasher, yelled for the others to charge her, and they did.
It was the dance that she knew so well. She easily evaded the clumsy sword and hoof strikes of the first, parrying the second's spear and slicing the tip from the weapon with a backward slash from her sword. The first attacked, missed, and was kicked in the teeth, staggering it for a moment. Her blades moved like liquid, and another centaur hit the ground, bleeding from several vicious cuts. She whirled on her heels, almost instinctively avoiding the last sword strike, and cut the legs from under her final assailant. He kicked and screamed on the ground for several moments, before she drove a sword into his throat, and he was silent.
She peered about for the last, spotted him trying to flee. Her swords hit the ground with a clatter, and her Legion Blunderbuss was lifted to her shoulder. The whispers of the creatures within were strong in her mind as she pulled the trigger, watching the small bullet pass through the centaur's skull and out his left eye in a gory explosion. Legs churning, he managed a few more paces before collapsing, Sul'thraze falling to the ground at his side.
Ashagga walked to his corpse, favoring her sprained ankle, and lifted the massive sword as if it weighed nothing. Sul'thraze was HERS now, her gift from Warneshi and the end of his legacy. Anyone who wanted to wield the blade would have to face her.
After The Campfire by Warneshi
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Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: After The Campfire by Warneshi
Warneshi's horned head lulled slightly as his head slipped from his chin and he brought out of his thoughts and back to the present. The massive form of Doom Guard stood before his throne and Warneshi brought back to his mind why this thing was here.
Warneshi brought his arm down and straightened up in his seat, he did not have the bloated face or massive muscles of the Doom Guard, in fact Warneshi did not look like much of the other Legions commanders. Their great forms towered over their servants a reminder of their supreme power. When Warneshi had assumed his position, he took a far more unassuming look, small but thick horns protruded from his forehead, and small amounts of smoke and sulphur fell away from his hair that was free of it's pony tail. His hair shimmered, waxed and wanned, it's flame colored form looked to always be surrounded by waves of heat. Indeed he did not look supreme compared to the others, but Warneshi did not need looks, he did not want his power being known. His creator had called him The Corrupter, and corruption needed no massive form to keep it's servants in line.
"Warneshi will not offer hiss assisstance to your masster, if he iss so weak that he can not take ground on that world at all, then he iss beneath Warneshi'ss gaze."
The Doom Guard tried not to look shocked, he represented a mighty lord, who even now tried to spread the Legions influence on a plane he thought was vital to the Legions conquest. Warneshi did not fear the defiance, he knew the campaign mattered little, the Legion cared only for one plane, all others were fought to contain the wrath of failing for the greatest prize...Azeroth.
"He will not be pleased with this answer, do not get so comfortable in that chair Sandfury, you will not know it long with this attitude."
The Doom Guard was lead out, his eyes watching wearily the Succubi that stood in Warneshi's throne room, he knew there was more to them then appearances, just like their master. This whole Keep was corrupt on lies and deceit. The Doom Guard snorted, he preferred things simple, things done with a blade and the fires of Hell.
Warneshi put the meeting out of his mind, and set his chin back into his hand, slipping off to his thoughts as he had done before the Doom Guard needed his attention.
Souls...he felt them being funneled towards him, he felt his hunger growing as he was given tastes of what was to come. Sul'Thraze and Warneshi were bound, it was much a part of him as his own tusks, and even the space of the planes would not stop the blade from feeding it's master. Death was being dealt in it's presence, it was sucking the souls of the deceased near it and sending them to it's master, the only being the blade truly loved.
Warneshi smiled, true corruption took vast amounts of time, but once it was complete...Warneshi sighed and smiled at one of his Succubi servants, it had only begun.
Warneshi brought his arm down and straightened up in his seat, he did not have the bloated face or massive muscles of the Doom Guard, in fact Warneshi did not look like much of the other Legions commanders. Their great forms towered over their servants a reminder of their supreme power. When Warneshi had assumed his position, he took a far more unassuming look, small but thick horns protruded from his forehead, and small amounts of smoke and sulphur fell away from his hair that was free of it's pony tail. His hair shimmered, waxed and wanned, it's flame colored form looked to always be surrounded by waves of heat. Indeed he did not look supreme compared to the others, but Warneshi did not need looks, he did not want his power being known. His creator had called him The Corrupter, and corruption needed no massive form to keep it's servants in line.
"Warneshi will not offer hiss assisstance to your masster, if he iss so weak that he can not take ground on that world at all, then he iss beneath Warneshi'ss gaze."
The Doom Guard tried not to look shocked, he represented a mighty lord, who even now tried to spread the Legions influence on a plane he thought was vital to the Legions conquest. Warneshi did not fear the defiance, he knew the campaign mattered little, the Legion cared only for one plane, all others were fought to contain the wrath of failing for the greatest prize...Azeroth.
"He will not be pleased with this answer, do not get so comfortable in that chair Sandfury, you will not know it long with this attitude."
The Doom Guard was lead out, his eyes watching wearily the Succubi that stood in Warneshi's throne room, he knew there was more to them then appearances, just like their master. This whole Keep was corrupt on lies and deceit. The Doom Guard snorted, he preferred things simple, things done with a blade and the fires of Hell.
Warneshi put the meeting out of his mind, and set his chin back into his hand, slipping off to his thoughts as he had done before the Doom Guard needed his attention.
Souls...he felt them being funneled towards him, he felt his hunger growing as he was given tastes of what was to come. Sul'Thraze and Warneshi were bound, it was much a part of him as his own tusks, and even the space of the planes would not stop the blade from feeding it's master. Death was being dealt in it's presence, it was sucking the souls of the deceased near it and sending them to it's master, the only being the blade truly loved.
Warneshi smiled, true corruption took vast amounts of time, but once it was complete...Warneshi sighed and smiled at one of his Succubi servants, it had only begun.