Conquest of the Horde

In dark times, mortals seek to find protection. May it be by having someone by their side or by using a particular tool to support them. Despair makes the mortal mind weak, or atleast that is what demons tend to think. Love is their only true ‘Light' in the battles they have to face. A storm of rage can be beaten down by love.

“Love…” The demon hissed as he looked through the dark cellar. “Love is of no importance to a being like myself, no.” As the Fel-sworn stood before a work bench he let his hand move along the curves of a plate chest piece. His lips curled into a sly smirk as he laid his fel fire eyes on the chest piece. The chest piece looked like the regular one, worn by Death Knights and Warriors, yet it differed as well. The black color of the plate seemed to be inscribed with runes, the collar was carved out of the plate.

Then his eyes slowly moved over to the leg piece. It had the same color, and also it had runes inscribed in it. The Fel-sworn tilted his head back as he chuckled. He could already see himself wearing this attire. He let his eyes fall upon the gauntlets which laid to both sides of the leg piece. He picked one up and turned it in his palm. Usually the gauntlet would be full plate, but the palm of the gauntlet was curved out. He slipped the gauntlet over his hand watching his hand again.

Finally there was the staff of Agony, as the Fel-sworn named it. The demonic staff which was crafted by one of his superiors. He let his fingers move along the frame of the large staff, the radiation of fel ignited like a bomb as the Fel-sworn and his beloved staff made contact. The crystal in the middle of the staff immediately changed color, becoming a soft fel green.

The Fel-sworn broke the connection with his staff and stepped back, turning on his heels to look into a mirror. The demonic mirror image made Mistal shiver with excitement. This is what he had become after so many months of training, improving his powers as everyone had suggested him. The blood of the lesser demons had made his mutation complete. In the image a Fel-sworn stood, his hair was coiled black, his skin went from slight violet to red, even his height had increased as well. He turned again to prepare himself.

As soon as the fel-sworn was turned, he let his right hand move over the purple robes he worn for his whole training. The glowing runes began to fade, and a small line began to burn his attire into two pieces. Once the small flames had devour the lower part of his robes The fel –sworn tore the remaining parts of his body and threw them on the ground. The demon gazed down on his naked, mutated body and nodded slightly. “Yes… my training is complete.” He tensed all his muscles and let out a demonic laugh. Then he spread his arms to full length horizontally. He fixed his gaze on the armor pieces and snapped his fingers on both hands. The armor parts began to hover towards the naked body and pushed themselves against his scaled skin. The a green glow began to move between his skin and the armor parts, carving the parts into his skin. The demon let out a grown followed by another scream of severe pain.

First it was the leg piece that merged with the demon's flesh, followed by his boots and gauntlet. Now the two final pieces would be the ones who would make the Fel-sworn endure pain he never witnessed throughout his journey to becoming a demon. The Chest piece split, one piece went for the back the other to cover his chest. Then the shoulder pats hovered over to the Fel-sworn and hovered above the place they should be attached. The demon began to chant an incantation to order the pieces to connect with his flesh and fix themselves into his flesh.
Once the Fel-sworn finished the incantation the pieces placed themselves against the warm flesh, again there was the green glow. Then the demon cried from the top of his lungs, The fel flames in their eye sockets flared as the demon yelled, screamed and cried by the pain that he caused on himself. Small wisps of smoke began to rise into the air from the attached armor parts. The chest piece merged itself with the flesh of the demon, once that done a small green rune carved itself into the demon's chest, it placed itself in the exact spot which was carved out of the plate armor piece. Another demonic cry filled the dark cellar. Once the rune was curved in his flesh and glowed green, the demon fell to his knees. Breathing heavily he just sat there for minutes. Once he had the feeling he could get up again he lifted himself up to his feet and made his way back over to the workbench.
The Fel-sworn panted slightly as he reached for five small healthstones. He snapped the fingers of his other hand and the five shards began to hover towards his shoulder piece. The fel-sworn mumbled some demonic words and the shards attached themselves to the right shoulder part. He repeated his former action and five health stones attached themselves to his left shoulder part.

Minutes later the Fel-sworn stood before his mirror again nodding entertained, pleased with what he just had done.
He already could feel his body regain full power while he just stood there, the taint of Fel lingered heavily around the demon as he turned both sides to see how the armor looked. He slowly returned to his desk and clenched his right hand around the staff. He placed it on his back, between the two folded wings and walked over to the exit of the cellar.

“Now it is time to begin what has been asked, to finish what I have began.”

Dust hovered up into the air as Mistal’aerix descended onto the ground. The area around him to which he got used to through the months, looked deserted. The demon raised both hands and conjured four small orbs of fel energy. He tilted his head back just a little and inhaled the scent of destruction, despair and blood.

As the small orbs began to whirl, slowly, about the demon, he curled his lips into a smirk. The dark pupil that lingered within the small flames took in the environment. His ears twitched to the soft sounds of frogs and the river not far away of where he was standing now. Realising he stood there, in the open position to be caught off guard, he folded the leather looking wings behind his back and gave a slight nod to whatever it was that was on his mind.

The demon began to step towards the large stairs that would give entrance to a place he once called ‘The sanctum’. Descending these steps his lips slowly returned to their normal form, merging together with his other facial features into an unpredictable mask of secrets, thoughts hidden underneath it.

As the demon continued through the dark halls that once were occupied by other demons he realized that things would have changed. He knew things were out of order and that if that was the case, with pleasure he would return it to what he was used to. Chaos, destruction that was his missions and he would not rest until certain people about Azeroth granted him this bit of success. But he also knew that what he was about to do would take time to prepare.

“Greetings, Mistal’aerix… You have returned and ooh… you look wo-…” One of the energy orbs flew towards the Imp. As his story was cut short and he was anything but pleased with the way the Fel-sworn treated him at arrival, he knew that this was the perfect sign of a warning. “Immarr, tell me… what made you belief I would want to hear any praises from you, or from any other lesser being, hmm?” Mistal’aerix stepped passed the Imp and continued his way into a large room, he snapped his fingers and the three remaining orb scattered through the dark room, placing themselves onto the head of a torch.

“My apologies, Mistal, but I am sure you would love to hear what I am about to tell you.” The Imp grinned and began to follow the Fel-sworn. “No I am not, Immarr, I am not. You will soon understand that what has happened after I departed, will have no influence on what I have planned.” The long yellow-ish fangs began to appear bigger as the Fel-sworn turned and had a nasty grin on his face. “Now tell me… where are my… workers?” The Fel-sworn let his pupils slowly fall upon the little Imp, which cocked his head to the side and let his ears drop. “Workers?” He jumped up as Mistal folded his hands. “Yes the workers, where are they?” Immarr seemed quite confused by what the Fel-sworn was referring to but decided to think things through before giving the demon his answer.

“Ah yes… the workers… well you see…” Immarr began, but again was cut short by Mistal. “Quiet, you have no idea… disappointing, yet so predictable. Now be gone and leave me to my matters…”
Immarr bowed and snapped his fingers. A circle of fel fire rose around the small Imp. Once the flames died again there was nothing more than a circle of ashes that was left behind. Mistal placed himself on the floor, shadows began to pour from his hands as he placed them onto his legs. Slowly a cocoon of shadows formed around the demon. It was time for a disguise…

Green smog… Screams of agony… the laughter of a demonic creature…
Flashes of a short memory flickered before the mind’s eye of Mistal’aerix. For all he cared it were just the memories of short lived achievements. Souls that could have been collected and be added to the large growing stack of souls that were already his.

“Marianna Bisen, Caidrah… even Rune masters, Ley-walkers…” Mistal’aerix rose from the cold floor on which he was meditating. Names too familiar to the demon. “Interesting matters, yet not much of importance.” A green portal appeared before Mistal on the floor, runes began to appear around the rings that gave way for the unknow demon to enter. Mistal stood with his hands folded behind his back waiting for the creature to show itself.

Slowly two large horns, followed by red eyes and large wings, attached to the muscular body of a Dreadlord appeared before Mistal. The air began to press against Mistal’s body, as if two enormous blocks of invisible air tried to squeeze him. Mistal rolled his eyes once the demon had fully appeared, glaring down upon Mistal.
“Unfortunate matters force us to meet once again, Mistal’aerix.” The pressure against Mistal’s body ceased as the Dreadlord spoke. “Of course you were prepared for this meeting it seems.” The Dreadlord tilted his head back looking up at the ceiling.

Mistal only gave the Dreadlord a curt nod. “Indeed.” He added as he saw the glare of the Dreadlord intensify. “However I do not have to worry about matters that do not concern me, nor for whatever I have planned.” Mistal loosened his hands and let them hang beside his body, his lips slowly curling into a sly smirk. “Of course you were fully aware of that, hmm… else you would not have taken the time to visit me, nor took the time to investigate this ‘cause’ that seems so important to you and your lackeys.”

The Dreadlord reached for Mistal with his large claw, scratching the stomach of the Fel-sworn as he tried to get of the grasps way. “Mistal’aerix you seem to have forgotten your place, both in demon standings as that within the Legion.” The Dreadlord inhaled deeply and exhaled. A large cloud full of fel energy went straight for Mistal, whom had seen the move coming and jumped up into the air, trying to dodge the large cloud of energy. “By fighting me, you belief I will give a damn about the Legion? Give about the forsaken mistakes you have made dozens of times? Attempts that were cut short by the citizens of Azeroth.” Mistal let his unfolded wings take him a small bit higher. “I could care less whether or not you are here to convince to work with the demons, you once trained, whom just as the majority of the legion have failed to purge Azeroth of the citizens who inhabited this planet."

A flash of Fel energy, followed by another one… A moan of agony and a bashing sound of flesh and bone against the concrete were the sounds that echoed against the thick walls. “Do not mock the Legion and its purpose. Know your place and see fit you will do whatever we order you to!” With those words the Dreadlord disappeared once again, leaving the Fel-sworn broken and bleeding on the floor.

Chapter Five: To Freedom