12-06-2017, 10:38 PM
Illidan choked down the last of his meal; a slab of meat, questionable in origin, and a shot of liquor. When he asked the jailer why he was given alcohol, he was told it was to keep him warm in the clammy dungeon so he didn’t freeze. Despite that the reasoning was flawed, Illidan would never need outside help retaining heat. The very blood in his veins burned with demonic fire.
He positioned another pebble by the wall as he threw the plate at the bars. Ten rested side by side.
Where had Lavir gone? It had been four days since their discussion and he still hadn’t returned, with or without a fragment of the fel crystal. Did he suspect he was being played and left Illidan to dangle in false hope? Had he decided to attempt deciphering the fel crystal himself? Or perhaps Regis had advised him against the idea, citing a possible chance at betrayal?
It was foolish to think Illidan would suffer alone in the dark. Ten thousand years of practice meant any imprisonment less than five hundred years danced by like a momentary distraction. Maybe Lavir and Regis miscalculated, thinking that further solitary confinement would be enough to push him off the edge and straight into the abyss of insanity. Illidan had already dived into it and remained himself, if a little scarred.
The soft padding of bare feet sounded like a marching drum in the silent dungeon. Illidan directed his attention to the stairwell and Lavir walked down and to his cage bars. Two skeletons brandishing swords and shields followed close behind, their bones clicking as they moved. Illidan wondered if Lavir actually thought his undead entourage enhanced his threatening presence, considering the night elf could easily undo the bonds of necromancy that held their dry joints together.
A faint green light emitted from Lavir’s pocket of his loose trousers.
Lavir performed a grandiose bow at the hips, smiling as he rose. “Lord Illidan. I hope your accommodations have been to your liking.”
“You took your time,” Illidan said. “By my count, it took you four days to get a flake of the fel crystal.”
“What makes you so sure I’m here to honour our agreement?” Lavir said.
Surely Lavir knows I can see the fel crystal shard through the cloth. “Because I may wear a blindfold, but magic is not invisible to me.”
Lavir frowned, struck silent for a moment, and then went back to his grin. “I had to make sure it wasn’t a trap,” Lavir said, folding his arms over his naked chest. “I had some underlings attempt to mine your glowing gem first in case there was some type of defence mechanism. There wasn’t, so you didn’t lie to me about that at least. But the gem is dense. It took some time to deftly remove a piece without being so heavy-handed as to shatter it entirely.”
“That took you four days?” Illidan said. “Count Dracula’s minions aren’t very efficient.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but most of them don’t have fine motor skills,” Lavir said. “Or know the difference between hard and soft. But once a chunk of the gem was dislodged, I had it analysed.”
“How so?” Illidan asked.
“For all I knew, the shard of the gem was a trap,” Lavir said. “I wasn’t taking any chances. So the necromancers and warlocks pored over it, searching for anything unusual that might aid you should you get your fingers on it. I didn’t rush it so they wouldn’t miss anything.”
“And what did they find?”
Lavir’s grin fell away. “Nothing. They said it was stable and inert. They said it could possibly be used as a source of fuel for a spell, but your shackles prevent that from happening.”
The blood elf dipped his index and middle finger into his pocket and retrieved the shard of fel crystal. It burned with an eerie green light. He passed it through the bars. Illidan reached for it but Lavir pulled it away.
“Remember if this backfires on me, your entire army will be tortured and killed. And I’ll see to it that this fortress is dismantled brick by brick. Everything you have built will be ash. Consider your actions wisely.”
“Do you want control of the demon hunters or not?” Illidan said through clenched teeth. It was one thing to have to listen to this pompous idiot speak like he held some sort of authority worth respecting, but it was another to have everything spoken to the night elf as if he were some mentally challenged dullard.
Lavir flicked the crystal shard into the cage. Illidan bolted from the ground, his chains pulling taut, as he caught the shimmering green item.
“Now make the change,” the blood elf demanded. “Give me the power to enslave the demon hunters!”
Illidan scowled. “It will take me a moment to scrub my life signature from the fel crystal. Once I’m done, I’ll hand you this sliver. It will provide a direct link to the fel crystal and inscribe your pattern within its core. Afterwards, this fragment will be useless.”
“And how do I control them?” Lavir asked, his features animated. “Do I have to talk to them directly and order them around or can I communicate telepathically with them?”
Illidan suppressed a smirk. “Telepathic communication is viable.”
Lavir smiled to himself, staring into the distance. He quickly came to and frowned. “All right then. Do it! What are you waiting for?”
Stormrage fondled the gem shard with his index finger and thumb. Parts had come away jagged while others were smooth as silk. A small green maelstrom swirled inside its translucent surface, a whisper of the fury that tore through the fel crystal above the castle.
He focused on the raw energy within and sensed the tissue-thin tether that secured the gem fragment's connection to the fel crystal above. He wouldn’t expect most magical practitioners to look for it, let alone feel it, though he worried when Lavir mentioned the scrutiny the spellcasters gave this fragment. Nonetheless, it obviously went under the radar.
This was a big risk. Illidan wasn’t sure of the outcome of his plan but it was the only one he had, and risk had never blunted his ambition before.
“What’s taking so long?” Lavir almost shouted, the volume and sudden slicing through the quiet jolting Illidan out of his thoughts.
“Shut up!” Illidan snapped back. “If you want this done right, you need to keep your mouth still!”
Lavir’s eyebrows rose. “How dare you speak to your new lord in such a disrespectful tone! Once you’ve finished this, you will be punished severely!”
Stormrage clenched the gem shard in his palm and tightened his fist. He concentrated on the pulsing of the fel energy in his hand. It was almost as if he gripped an irregularly beating heart. Further he delved into its blurry undercurrents, his spectral vision awash with a multitude of gritty specks, as if he were caught in a fluorescent sandstorm. He reached deeper, the pressure squashing his mind, resisting his presence ...
“W-what are you doing?!” he heard Lavir shout, though his words echoed down a long, ethereal corridor. “Your tattoos are glowing! How are you ... are you casting a spell? The shackles should be stopping you!”
Illidan managed a short chuckle as his astral hand reached for the gem fragment’s swirling core. “Fel magic is greater than all others, even the dark magic that Regis wields. Necromancy and shadow magic are all descended from the pure, surging strength of the Burning Legion. These petty binds will no longer restrain me.”
Lavir shouted “No!” as Illidan fastened his dream-fingers around the gem fragment’s storm.
As his spirit connected with the fragment, he could easily sense the spider-silk connection winding back to the fel crystal perched atop Poenari Castle. It thundered with demonic roars and crackled with unbridled energy like a furious tornado.
If Illidan was going to regain control of Poenari Castle, he needed more power. The only place he could draw enough of it to do so was within the fel crystal. Even if what stored within its facets was not sufficient, the link to the Twisting Nether would let him siphon as much as was necessary.
And yet the ferocity of the Twisting Nether was never something to underestimate. Battling demonic whispers in his mind was a completely different scenario than submerging himself, mind and body, into their horrendous and terrifying power. He could very well lose everything; his sanity, his free will, his ambitions. But it was worth the price to free himself and right the wrongs of Regis and the traitors who overturned Illidan’s rule.
The night elf plunged himself into the core and funnelled his essence through the link to the fel crystal. The gem fragment fell from his disintegrating fingers as he was fully absorbed through its lattices and spirited towards the top of the castle.
Lavir’s roar of frustration barely registered to Illidan as he charged into the fel crystal’s core.
He positioned another pebble by the wall as he threw the plate at the bars. Ten rested side by side.
Where had Lavir gone? It had been four days since their discussion and he still hadn’t returned, with or without a fragment of the fel crystal. Did he suspect he was being played and left Illidan to dangle in false hope? Had he decided to attempt deciphering the fel crystal himself? Or perhaps Regis had advised him against the idea, citing a possible chance at betrayal?
It was foolish to think Illidan would suffer alone in the dark. Ten thousand years of practice meant any imprisonment less than five hundred years danced by like a momentary distraction. Maybe Lavir and Regis miscalculated, thinking that further solitary confinement would be enough to push him off the edge and straight into the abyss of insanity. Illidan had already dived into it and remained himself, if a little scarred.
The soft padding of bare feet sounded like a marching drum in the silent dungeon. Illidan directed his attention to the stairwell and Lavir walked down and to his cage bars. Two skeletons brandishing swords and shields followed close behind, their bones clicking as they moved. Illidan wondered if Lavir actually thought his undead entourage enhanced his threatening presence, considering the night elf could easily undo the bonds of necromancy that held their dry joints together.
A faint green light emitted from Lavir’s pocket of his loose trousers.
Lavir performed a grandiose bow at the hips, smiling as he rose. “Lord Illidan. I hope your accommodations have been to your liking.”
“You took your time,” Illidan said. “By my count, it took you four days to get a flake of the fel crystal.”
“What makes you so sure I’m here to honour our agreement?” Lavir said.
Surely Lavir knows I can see the fel crystal shard through the cloth. “Because I may wear a blindfold, but magic is not invisible to me.”
Lavir frowned, struck silent for a moment, and then went back to his grin. “I had to make sure it wasn’t a trap,” Lavir said, folding his arms over his naked chest. “I had some underlings attempt to mine your glowing gem first in case there was some type of defence mechanism. There wasn’t, so you didn’t lie to me about that at least. But the gem is dense. It took some time to deftly remove a piece without being so heavy-handed as to shatter it entirely.”
“That took you four days?” Illidan said. “Count Dracula’s minions aren’t very efficient.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but most of them don’t have fine motor skills,” Lavir said. “Or know the difference between hard and soft. But once a chunk of the gem was dislodged, I had it analysed.”
“How so?” Illidan asked.
“For all I knew, the shard of the gem was a trap,” Lavir said. “I wasn’t taking any chances. So the necromancers and warlocks pored over it, searching for anything unusual that might aid you should you get your fingers on it. I didn’t rush it so they wouldn’t miss anything.”
“And what did they find?”
Lavir’s grin fell away. “Nothing. They said it was stable and inert. They said it could possibly be used as a source of fuel for a spell, but your shackles prevent that from happening.”
The blood elf dipped his index and middle finger into his pocket and retrieved the shard of fel crystal. It burned with an eerie green light. He passed it through the bars. Illidan reached for it but Lavir pulled it away.
“Remember if this backfires on me, your entire army will be tortured and killed. And I’ll see to it that this fortress is dismantled brick by brick. Everything you have built will be ash. Consider your actions wisely.”
“Do you want control of the demon hunters or not?” Illidan said through clenched teeth. It was one thing to have to listen to this pompous idiot speak like he held some sort of authority worth respecting, but it was another to have everything spoken to the night elf as if he were some mentally challenged dullard.
Lavir flicked the crystal shard into the cage. Illidan bolted from the ground, his chains pulling taut, as he caught the shimmering green item.
“Now make the change,” the blood elf demanded. “Give me the power to enslave the demon hunters!”
Illidan scowled. “It will take me a moment to scrub my life signature from the fel crystal. Once I’m done, I’ll hand you this sliver. It will provide a direct link to the fel crystal and inscribe your pattern within its core. Afterwards, this fragment will be useless.”
“And how do I control them?” Lavir asked, his features animated. “Do I have to talk to them directly and order them around or can I communicate telepathically with them?”
Illidan suppressed a smirk. “Telepathic communication is viable.”
Lavir smiled to himself, staring into the distance. He quickly came to and frowned. “All right then. Do it! What are you waiting for?”
Stormrage fondled the gem shard with his index finger and thumb. Parts had come away jagged while others were smooth as silk. A small green maelstrom swirled inside its translucent surface, a whisper of the fury that tore through the fel crystal above the castle.
He focused on the raw energy within and sensed the tissue-thin tether that secured the gem fragment's connection to the fel crystal above. He wouldn’t expect most magical practitioners to look for it, let alone feel it, though he worried when Lavir mentioned the scrutiny the spellcasters gave this fragment. Nonetheless, it obviously went under the radar.
This was a big risk. Illidan wasn’t sure of the outcome of his plan but it was the only one he had, and risk had never blunted his ambition before.
“What’s taking so long?” Lavir almost shouted, the volume and sudden slicing through the quiet jolting Illidan out of his thoughts.
“Shut up!” Illidan snapped back. “If you want this done right, you need to keep your mouth still!”
Lavir’s eyebrows rose. “How dare you speak to your new lord in such a disrespectful tone! Once you’ve finished this, you will be punished severely!”
Stormrage clenched the gem shard in his palm and tightened his fist. He concentrated on the pulsing of the fel energy in his hand. It was almost as if he gripped an irregularly beating heart. Further he delved into its blurry undercurrents, his spectral vision awash with a multitude of gritty specks, as if he were caught in a fluorescent sandstorm. He reached deeper, the pressure squashing his mind, resisting his presence ...
“W-what are you doing?!” he heard Lavir shout, though his words echoed down a long, ethereal corridor. “Your tattoos are glowing! How are you ... are you casting a spell? The shackles should be stopping you!”
Illidan managed a short chuckle as his astral hand reached for the gem fragment’s swirling core. “Fel magic is greater than all others, even the dark magic that Regis wields. Necromancy and shadow magic are all descended from the pure, surging strength of the Burning Legion. These petty binds will no longer restrain me.”
Lavir shouted “No!” as Illidan fastened his dream-fingers around the gem fragment’s storm.
As his spirit connected with the fragment, he could easily sense the spider-silk connection winding back to the fel crystal perched atop Poenari Castle. It thundered with demonic roars and crackled with unbridled energy like a furious tornado.
If Illidan was going to regain control of Poenari Castle, he needed more power. The only place he could draw enough of it to do so was within the fel crystal. Even if what stored within its facets was not sufficient, the link to the Twisting Nether would let him siphon as much as was necessary.
And yet the ferocity of the Twisting Nether was never something to underestimate. Battling demonic whispers in his mind was a completely different scenario than submerging himself, mind and body, into their horrendous and terrifying power. He could very well lose everything; his sanity, his free will, his ambitions. But it was worth the price to free himself and right the wrongs of Regis and the traitors who overturned Illidan’s rule.
The night elf plunged himself into the core and funnelled his essence through the link to the fel crystal. The gem fragment fell from his disintegrating fingers as he was fully absorbed through its lattices and spirited towards the top of the castle.
Lavir’s roar of frustration barely registered to Illidan as he charged into the fel crystal’s core.
![[Image: illidansig2.jpg]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2017/07/07/illidansig2.jpg)