02-09-2017, 03:31 AM
Skin, hardened by his transformation, smoked with the scorches left by the plagued knight's incantations. The cursed words had drilled through his tough hide regardless, wounding him but also feeding his primal anger and power. Clenching fangs, Illidan stalked towards the armoured zombie. Pure adrenaline and fury roared through his bloodstream, pumping his muscles, driving his hooves closer to his target. The cunning and tactician in him resisted the overwhelming rage, though letting himself indulge in it every now and then. It would not overtake him, not where the Burning Legion had failed to, even after unfettered access to his mind for ten thousand forsaken years.
"You speak as if pain and fear will drown me, puppet," Illidan growled, each cloven step slow and heavy. "You do not know me, nor my power. Pain and fear ... they are my power."
Illidan dug his own claws into his chest, grimacing at the sharp heat awoken there, and bellowed as he ripped them out, blood flying in a spray. He clenched his teeth, funnelling the wound through his demonic power, sacrificing his well-being for a greater sip, his arcane tattoos flaring emerald. "Injury only drives my resolve, feeds my strength. Nothing short of decapitation will stop me."
"Funny you should say that," said a voice from behind.
Illidan had enough time to turn his horned head before a heavy weight slammed onto his back. Thick, armoured arms wrapped around his neck. Hot breath splashed on the back of his neck, contrasting with the chilling rain that still sloshed upon the battlefield. The glint of moonlight streaked up the sword in his attacker's grip, rising swiftly to the night elf felguard's throat.
"You!" Illidan said. His primary focus on the undead soldier had let the cloaked warrior get the drop on him again. "You will regret your cowardice!"
Illidan rolled his shoulders, thrashing the cloaked soldier around on his back, but the grip did not loosen. He brought clawed hands over his shoulders in search of his target, but bulky shoulders reduced his flexibility, leaving him grasping at air. All the while he kept the image of the sword by his jaw in his mind; while his skin would deflect most of a blade strike, the plagued knight's curse had exposed chinks in his armour-like hide, chinks that could allow the passage of cold steel into his jugular.
Rage mounted with each unsuccessful attempt to remove the rider.
"Enough!"
Illidan hurled himself backwards, slamming his spine and the cloaked warrior into the mud. He felt the grip weaken, but it did not break. Rising into a crouch, Illidan repeated the motion, hearing the wind whistle out of his foe's lungs. The sword fell from his fingers. With a final back slam, the cloaked soldier relinquished his hold on him.
Climbing upright again, Illidan took a deep breath, a strange airiness filling his head. He fought the urge to drop to a knee, unwilling to expose himself, nor telegraph the fact that a sudden malady had overcome him. Had the damage he'd taken so far affected him so greatly?
"Let's finish this," the cloaked soldier murmured, grasping his sword once more, mud clinging to his body tumbling from him in the rain.
He charged at Illidan, sword swinging, droplets splashing in its wake. The night elf felguard rose a solid forearm to block the attack, but instead of the weapon clanging off his thickened skin, it bit in. Illidan roared as blood flowed from the strike. He yanked his arm back, the sword remaining embedded in his limb, stealing it from its owner.
"You don't know when to give up, do you!?" With his remaining hand, he seized the cloak of his foe and lifted him to meet his blazing eyes. "I'll teach you for interfering in my plans, maggot."
Illidan tossed the warrior over his shoulder and into the mud. With a jilted tug, he tore the sword from his arm, the fire of the wound flaring. Growling, he threw the blade away and fell to his knees. The strength that made him so confident and empowered was draining out of him faster than he had realised. Even as he crouched there, his muscles shrank, his horns regressed back into his skull, his hooves flattened and expanded into toes. The transformation was reversing.
All of his stings and injuries returned in full force as he raised awkwardly back to his feet. A long gash ran down his left arm, still fresh and oozing from the sword. While he could draw on that pain to strengthen his own power, he was not invulnerable; the wounds were starting to weigh him down.
"You think this is over?" Illidan said, grimacing as the wet darts of the rain sank into his cut like wasp stingers. "I don't need to be some hulking monstrosity to lay waste to you."
The night elf drank from his agony, and the endless, grim power of the Twisting Nether suffused his body. He would fight until he collapsed in a useless heap, but that moment had not yet arrived.
Illidan raised a clenched hand, and as if saluting his own victory, a jagged lightning bolt forked through the cloud smothered sky. Emerald light poured from his fist like an eerie beacon as he focused on a point high above them.
Yes ... hear my bidding ...
He felt them approaching, gravitating towards his enormous signal, thrown like paper scraps in the wind.
They're here ...
Illidan shouted his battle cry, and a pale green star exploded, tearing a thin sheet in the space-time above them. An entirely new night sky opened through its portal, one devoid of rain or clouds, and from it a shower of green comets screamed through, blazing with the emerald fires of the Burning Legion.
"How did you so eloquently phrase it, corpse?" Illidan said, baring his fangs. "Choke on it?"
"You speak as if pain and fear will drown me, puppet," Illidan growled, each cloven step slow and heavy. "You do not know me, nor my power. Pain and fear ... they are my power."
Illidan dug his own claws into his chest, grimacing at the sharp heat awoken there, and bellowed as he ripped them out, blood flying in a spray. He clenched his teeth, funnelling the wound through his demonic power, sacrificing his well-being for a greater sip, his arcane tattoos flaring emerald. "Injury only drives my resolve, feeds my strength. Nothing short of decapitation will stop me."
"Funny you should say that," said a voice from behind.
Illidan had enough time to turn his horned head before a heavy weight slammed onto his back. Thick, armoured arms wrapped around his neck. Hot breath splashed on the back of his neck, contrasting with the chilling rain that still sloshed upon the battlefield. The glint of moonlight streaked up the sword in his attacker's grip, rising swiftly to the night elf felguard's throat.
"You!" Illidan said. His primary focus on the undead soldier had let the cloaked warrior get the drop on him again. "You will regret your cowardice!"
Illidan rolled his shoulders, thrashing the cloaked soldier around on his back, but the grip did not loosen. He brought clawed hands over his shoulders in search of his target, but bulky shoulders reduced his flexibility, leaving him grasping at air. All the while he kept the image of the sword by his jaw in his mind; while his skin would deflect most of a blade strike, the plagued knight's curse had exposed chinks in his armour-like hide, chinks that could allow the passage of cold steel into his jugular.
Rage mounted with each unsuccessful attempt to remove the rider.
"Enough!"
Illidan hurled himself backwards, slamming his spine and the cloaked warrior into the mud. He felt the grip weaken, but it did not break. Rising into a crouch, Illidan repeated the motion, hearing the wind whistle out of his foe's lungs. The sword fell from his fingers. With a final back slam, the cloaked soldier relinquished his hold on him.
Climbing upright again, Illidan took a deep breath, a strange airiness filling his head. He fought the urge to drop to a knee, unwilling to expose himself, nor telegraph the fact that a sudden malady had overcome him. Had the damage he'd taken so far affected him so greatly?
"Let's finish this," the cloaked soldier murmured, grasping his sword once more, mud clinging to his body tumbling from him in the rain.
He charged at Illidan, sword swinging, droplets splashing in its wake. The night elf felguard rose a solid forearm to block the attack, but instead of the weapon clanging off his thickened skin, it bit in. Illidan roared as blood flowed from the strike. He yanked his arm back, the sword remaining embedded in his limb, stealing it from its owner.
"You don't know when to give up, do you!?" With his remaining hand, he seized the cloak of his foe and lifted him to meet his blazing eyes. "I'll teach you for interfering in my plans, maggot."
Illidan tossed the warrior over his shoulder and into the mud. With a jilted tug, he tore the sword from his arm, the fire of the wound flaring. Growling, he threw the blade away and fell to his knees. The strength that made him so confident and empowered was draining out of him faster than he had realised. Even as he crouched there, his muscles shrank, his horns regressed back into his skull, his hooves flattened and expanded into toes. The transformation was reversing.
All of his stings and injuries returned in full force as he raised awkwardly back to his feet. A long gash ran down his left arm, still fresh and oozing from the sword. While he could draw on that pain to strengthen his own power, he was not invulnerable; the wounds were starting to weigh him down.
"You think this is over?" Illidan said, grimacing as the wet darts of the rain sank into his cut like wasp stingers. "I don't need to be some hulking monstrosity to lay waste to you."
The night elf drank from his agony, and the endless, grim power of the Twisting Nether suffused his body. He would fight until he collapsed in a useless heap, but that moment had not yet arrived.
Illidan raised a clenched hand, and as if saluting his own victory, a jagged lightning bolt forked through the cloud smothered sky. Emerald light poured from his fist like an eerie beacon as he focused on a point high above them.
Yes ... hear my bidding ...
He felt them approaching, gravitating towards his enormous signal, thrown like paper scraps in the wind.
They're here ...
Illidan shouted his battle cry, and a pale green star exploded, tearing a thin sheet in the space-time above them. An entirely new night sky opened through its portal, one devoid of rain or clouds, and from it a shower of green comets screamed through, blazing with the emerald fires of the Burning Legion.
"How did you so eloquently phrase it, corpse?" Illidan said, baring his fangs. "Choke on it?"
Quote:985 words via MS Word. Transformation's reversed. Used Felfire Storm, cost 2 SP. 0/4 SP total.
![[Image: illidansig2.jpg]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2017/07/07/illidansig2.jpg)