01-19-2011, 04:03 AM
Frustration and Annoyance: The Daily Emotions of a Doomguard
The world itself trembled with every mighty step he took.
Mortals scattered as he drew near them.
Heaven turns and Hell cracks so that whatever beings might linger in those realms might observe his glory.
And yet he was apparently weak on this world.
Numerous heroes had stood before him. Elves who fashioned themselves 'Hunters', as though Demons were some sort of a game. Humans with guns, whom apparently fought his kin for a living. Dwarves with mouths whom cling to their hats. Orcs encased in obnoxious armor. He's faced them, and beat them. Yet they all bore one thing in common. A strange level of natural endurance against his attacks.
His blade was -disturbingly- useless against each and every foe he faced. No longer would it simply cleave a whelp in two like it used to. No. Now it took -multiple slashes-. Which was both frustrating and annoying to our fair Demon. He was simply used to butchering his foes with a casual swing. But alas. It appeared the men and women on Azeroth had obtained demonic skin of some sort. For their wounds mean nothing, and any wounds inflicted upon them are always minor.
However. Let it never be said that this Demon was not willing to change.
He saw the problem. His blade. Felsteel was obviously no longer strong enough to decimate his foes. No. He needed something stronger. Larger. Better. And he knew who to go to in order to obtain it.
It was on quite the cold eve that he made his flight to the hellish Felwood of Azeroth. Abominations that fancied themselves to be comparable to actual threats wandered the earth there, and to be honest, it caused our fair Demon to be rather amused at the idea of such whelps to be able to share a name with him. But It seemed times had changed, unfortunately. Demons were no longer some threat to be feared on this world anymore. No, they were just another enemy for one to defeat and later boast about. It was odd.
But he dealt with it.
The Demon entered a small cavern, his footsteps echoing around him as his hooves beat against the cobblestone floor. Water dripped from the ceiling of the cave, puddles forming here and there. It was dark. But our Demon needed no light to see. Which was quite useful, for the being he was to meet cloaked herself in shadows constantly.
A smile crossed his face as the Succubus came forth from the shadows. She perked a brow as she eyed the Doomguard up and down. A snarl escaped her lips.
"What do you want, Ara'Gazhi?"