Conquest of the Horde

The normally hushed halls of the estate were dead quiet this evening. A somber mood having filled the manor. Servants and butlers alike looked down as they passed members of the family, not uttering so much as a syllable as they entered and exited different rooms to finish their daily tasks. The silence was interrupted as a guest room swung open, a muscular Elf in plate armor striding out. Vedis remained silent, save for the sounds of his footsteps and armor moving around, a pair of dull eyes staring forward. He paused as he faintly noticed a figure blocking his way. A red haired Elf, a frown creasing his features. His father. "Where are you going, Vedis?" He asked softly, a dangerous question hidden in the guise of simply curiousity. "You know all too well, father." Came a steely reply, Vedis' eyes narrowing slightly. "Unless you are coming to join me to lament in the death of a 'simple commoner', please move out of the way." The red haired Elf scowls, stepping out of the way. Had Vedis not been in such a mood, he would've smiled at the reaction. "It's been a few years already, don't you think you should move on? Every month, going out like this. What will the other houses think?" He barked out. A pause as a lone maid scuttles by, ears lowered as she practically ran to the other end of the hall. "... I care not for the opinions of the other houses. If they've a problem with my grieving, they can take it up personally with me." With that, Vedis steps past his father and out the door.


Eversong. A lush and bright forest, but to Vedis, all the colors were faded and dull. His feet drumming against a familiar and worn out path only served to remind him of days long past. Days that the man realized would never come back, no matter how much power he held or how well he could control the Light. "I still remember..." He whispered to himself, as he walked up the steps to the spire. As he neared the final steps, he paused to catch his breath. Nothing had changed, he still needed to take a five second pause in order to catch his breath when he walked up all those stairs. He looked around the open aired platform, nobody was present. As expected, who would bother coming up here at such a time. Vedis slowly made his way across the platform, slowly taking a seat as he gazed out across the ocean. "H-Hey... it's me." His voice shook, the man taking some time to regain his composure. "Life's been busy... a lot of work." And so began his usual routine. He talked, and she listened. Or so he would like to think. In the end, there was no response other than the soft noise of the wind. It was refreshing, to let your thoughts out with nobody to judge you, for him at least. No need to worry about the state the House was in, or if assassins were sent to kill you. It took him back to times when he was allowed to roam and be carefree, when he didn't know what it was like to have the weight of his father's expectations on his shoulders.




"Hey Vedis?" A female Elf glanced over at the male curiously. "Yes, Seline?" He responded, eyes closed as he lay on the platform of the spire that faced the sea. "You don't need to work so hard for me, you know? I mean, I already have the shop you started for me. I don't need your father thinking I only married you to have a share of the family's wealth, you know?" She smiled cheerfully. A pair of blue eyes open and closed slowly. "Y-... Yeah, I know. I just... don't want to see you work so hard." He smiled weakly in response, a false smile, as she could already tell. "I get worried when you get home looking like you're about to passed out you know! If I see you stressed, then I'll get worried. If I get worried, you get even more stressed. It's a vicious cycle!" She frowned, reaching out to poke at the man's ribs. "A-Ah!" Vedis squirmed uncomfortably, smiling honestly this time. "I know... but I'll live. Eventually, with father's permission, we can move out of the manor and live by ourselves... Someday, I promise okay?" He smiled, the corners of his lips pulling up to slightly reveal his teeth. "Mm, okay. You promised though, can't go back on it now!" She grinned as she turned to look at him, moving her hair to cover his face. "If you do, I'll smother you to death!" She proclaims boldly, a grin on her face. "... I promise, yes. In time, Seline, in time." The woman nodded, flopping onto her back once more, satisfied with the answer. "... Vedis?" A soft sigh escaped the man's lips. "Yes?" A small pause, silence filling the air. "... I heard something about Undead at the gates, do you know what's happening?"

"It'll be fine dear, there's no need to worry."

A man stood at the center of the empty study, clad in black and red plate armor. A dusty room, curtains drawn shut. Nothing else accompanied the man, save an aged tome, and the pale corpse of a woman laid in the center of the room beside him. Wisps of raven colored hair dangled in front of the man's face, a light stubble gracing the man's jawline. "It... was not your time yet." He looks over to the tome, flipping it to a page bookmarked with a strip of golden cloth. "Be strong... soon we will be together again. I... promise." He extends his arms out, his left hand hovering above her chest, right hand gripping the corner of the page. "Light... give me strength." The knight closed his eyes as a faint, warm, golden glow began to emanate from his body. "Give me the strength required to do what is right. To bring this woman back from the other world, and back into this one." The golden mist began to grow in size as well as intensity. "Give me the power to reach from this world, into the other world to find her soul." A bead of sweat slowly trickled down his forehead. "Allow me to find her, and aid her return into this world." The sweat slowly trailed down between his eyes and onto the side of his nose. "Be merciful on her soul, allow her to pass into this world to find her vessel." The bead of sweat edged it's way to his chin, staying there for a moment. "... And if she does not have the strength required to do so..." A brief moment of pause as the Elf flips the page. "... Lend her my strength, all of it if you desire, so long as she comes back." He closes his eyes as the golden aura solidifies, pulsating along the length of his left arm and into the woman's body. He gasps, eyes widening as he instantly felt the toll on his body. As if he had been a puddle of water in the middle of a desert, he could feel the mana being drained and converted into what he had hoped to be sufficient strength to bring her soul back. "Please... Light, please." He gritted his teeth, grinding them against each other. "Be merciful..." He pleaded as he watched the golden light cover the woman's body, softly pulsating. His arms trembled as he felt sudden weakness overcome him, the man collapsing onto his knees. He heard them coming, shoes pattering against the marble floor. He couldn't let them stop him now, it was too soon, she hadn't even stirred yet.

"Lord Scorchblood?!" A muffled cry reached the man's ears, the door trembling as the people outside hammered on it. "Lord Scorchblood, what are you doing?!" The exhausted Elf looked back at the woman's body, her lips had regained some color and her skin wasn't so pale anymore. "It's working." His mind wavered slightly from it's previous concentrated state, allowing himself to think of old memories. His lips stretched into a thin smile. "Soon... very soon... I can hold you again." His arms trembled and wavered, the right one falling to the ground in order to provide much needed support. What was once the body of his wife, was now a messy blur at the best. Every fibre of his body burned as his mana was slowly and forcefully drained to be used as fuel for the spell. A golden glow blossomed from the woman's chest, the man looking up with furrowed brows to see what had happened. A formless golden light slowly drifted down from the ceiling of the room, right above the woman's body. "... You're back." His eyelids fluttered as his head started to feel more and more heavy. The shapeless mass settled above the woman's body and his hand, the yellow light surrounding the body beginning to pulsate more frequently. After what seemed like an eternity, the golden mass settled onto the body, slowly spreading itself across it. As it slowly sunk down, disappearing into her skin, one of the man's eyes slowly closed. As the glow slowly faded, the room returned to it's previous dim lighting. "W-... What?" And then, there was light. A near blinding flash of gold filled the room, the Elf on the floor squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the overpowering glow. "W-... Welcome home." He whispered, his words carrying confidence as well as weakness within them. The door was flung open, the doorknob dropping onto the floor with a clatter as the men stared in a mixture of shock and wonder at the sight. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the Light then disappeared. "She..." No energy left for words, it was as if he had been reduced to an emaciated corpse. His eyes were sunken in, skin pale as snow. He rolled onto his back, panting. His eyes slowly closed as the world dissolved into an overwhelming blackness.

Green eyes snapped open as Vedis woke up in his bed. "... Wh-... Seline..." He croaked out, getting into a sitting position before wincing. Pain. Every part of him was filled with a crushing pain, as if he had been shattered and then remade. "... You are too foolish, son." His father's voice greeted him, the older Elf sitting at the end of the bed. "Where is s--" Vedis' was cut off as his parched throat gave up, the man coughing loudly. "Where... is she?" He whispered hoarsely. "You could've died!" His father snapped, rising to his feet. "All for the sake of your foolhardy attempt to bring her back? She's dead, and you..." He narrows his eyes, opening his mouth before closing it again. The crimson haired Elf shook his head in disgust, an exasperated sigh coming from him before he stormed out of the room. "... You might as count yourself with the dead." Was his final remark, closing the door. Vedis gazed at the closed door in confusion. "W-... What?" He asked weakly, hesitantly. A robed Elf walked over, holding out a glass of water. "I'm sorry sir..." He pauses as Vedis slowly sipped from the glass. "The healers explained to the sire, her soul was... too weak to come back." Tremblings hands clutched at the glass of water, shattering it after a brief moment. "My lo--" Vedis snapped his head to glare at the man. "Leave. Me." Not a question, nor a statement, an order. The assistant slowly nodded, leaving the room quietly.

Birds chirped back and forth as they called to each other, their normally soft noise seeming much louder than normal in the quiet environment that was the Scorchblood manor. Several months had passed since the shattering had occured, yet the heir to the throne remained missing. Sent out on a diplomatic mission to secure trade agreements with the goblins in the Barrens, the entire household was well aware that the young lord was caught directly within the 'blast radius' and was probably in one of the areas that had been greatly affected. However, the world could not stop just because of one missing member, and the elder Scorchblood quickly took control of family affairs.



There were many indications of the events to come that day, the first being the interruption of the household butler's usual routine. A muffled knock, a pair of knuckles rapping twice against the thick wooden doors that stood at the front of the house. A slow creaking as the doors were pulled open by the butler, a pair of faintly glowing eyes squinted in the bright light of the afternoon. "How might I help you sir?" The Elf inquired in a soft, neutral tone. A brief pause as the butler inspected the man, slowly taking in his features. A soft hiss as the Elf quickly catches his breath, clasping his hand against his mouth. He stumbles slightly before reaching out to grab onto the doorknob to hold himself upright. As his strength gives out, the Elf instead opts to slowly slide into a sitting position, softly sobbing. The Elf that knocked lifts a brow, seemingly puzzled by that reaction. Carefully lifting up his foot before placing it firmly into the manor's grounds. By now, the butler's absence had attracted most of the household's attention, as well as a few of the bodyguard's as well. As a small crowd gathered in the front hall, the elder Scorchblood made his way to the front of the crowd with a scowl on his face. "What is the meaning of this?!" He demanded, gesturing at the Elf in front of him. Light blue silken gloves reach up to remove the black fedora that hid his equally black hair. The appearance of a small chain of red beads on a lock of hair revealing his previously hidden identity. The Elf slowly slid his sword back into it's sheath, opening up his arms as well as pulling up his lips in a small impish smirk. "... So then, when's the welcoming party?"

Emerald green eyes stared forward without blinking, determined, adamant, resigned. A second pair of jade colored eyes, contorted and and wild with un-held back fury watched the broken Elf almost unnervingly reposition himself from the sprawled and bloody mess he was. Back against the floor, chin held high. The briefest thought of how his victim managed to withstand the urge to cry out in pain crossed the assaulting Elf's mind before once more disappearing into the mass of dark emotions in his head. "You will now answer for your transgressions." His voice was reduced to a barely understandable snarl as he spoke, a horrific sound for a man of his position. Silence was the only answer he received. The Elf raised his sword to chest level, his eye contact with the other Elf only briefly replaced with the sight of his gauntlets. The knuckles had been dented, the first hour spent smashing the thinner metal upon the the other man's body and face had done that. His sword met his sight, moving his eyes to fix his vision on the weapon that he had held for almost a decade now. It had been a gift for when he was promoted to the rank of Master, from the heiress of another noble house. A failed attempt for a forced marriage, another potential ally lost. A pause, as the sword stayed raised over the battered Elf's chest. The most fleeting hints of mercy from the murderous knight, causing the bloodied Elf's blood covered lips to stretch into a thin smirk. A raspy croak broke the silence, the result of a crushing fist that was directed for his throat . "I will answer for my actions... Just as you will... In Time... For your own."

And then, the sword plunged down.

"... I promised you that I would survive, and I would always be happy at the end of the day... So I could sleep with a smile on my face..."Vedis stayed motionless as tears rolled down his face, his ice cold composure breaking for the first time in uncountable years. His sword still clutched tightly, running through through the other noble's body and into the floor. This would be the second break in his spine, plated boots had caused the first one to prevent him from any attempts to flee. Slowly, the Blood Knight pulled himself up, the emotions that fueled his assault through the night now having drained his body of the same energy they provided. The slow but periodical alternation between a dull thump and the sound of his boot dragging along the floor signaled his departure from the mansion.

"... I'm sorry, but I'll have to break my promise to you tonight."

"... Pproach-..."

"... Do we d..."

"Si-..."

"SIR!"

An arrowhead buried itself into the rotten log a couple inches away from the man's face, the splinters caused from it's arrival jolting the man awake and back into his reality. "Sir the undead are beginning to advance, we need the reinforcements from the Farstriders now!" Vedis glanced down, reaching into a belt pouch to shakily fumble for his pocket watch. "Nineteen hours, thirty seven minutes..." The shaken captain mumbled, more to himself than anything. Called into action, a messenger from the outpost in the Ghostlands had alerted him to a small skirmish that had started. Thinking nothing more of it, he dismissed it as the usual acts of some unruly Scourge minions. A bold assumption, a wrong assumption. And now he laid against two rotten logs for cover while he tried to think of what to do. The two guards he brought along with him were most likely satiating the advancing force's ravenous hunger for flesh by now, caught in an ambush by the riverside during the journey there. Close enough for a messenger to deliver the message and request immediate backup, but to ready and even wake enough soldiers would take too much precious time. Hopelessness filled the air as Vedis slowly surveyed what remaining troops he had left with him. "Status of our troops?" He asked through gritted teeth, already knowing the answer he would hear. "Two minor injuries, still able to fight. One in critical condition, we have a Knight on him keeping him afloat but his endurance can only go so far." Vedis slumped back, the icy tendrils of fear slowly beginning to grasp at his mind as he closed his eyes to think.


Green eyes slowly opened as memories of the overheard conversation faded. "... Send a messenger to the closest Farstrider base requesting reinforcements. Get all Knights to arm themselves, any weapons you have lying around, take it. Ensure every available Elf has something to slash, smash, stab, or crush with immediately. If you can't find them a weapon, make one. Sharpen a large branch, take their arrows from the ground." Vedis barked out, reaching to his side to make sure his sword was still in it's sheath. "And the wounded sir?" A hesitant Knight spoke up, in the midst of arming himself and his comrade. Vedis' heart pounded in his chest as he paused before speaking. "Anyone who can fight will fight, those who think themselves too wounded... feel free to sit here, and most likely die when Hell breaks lose." As understanding of their current situation fell on the Knights like a tidal wave, despair and doubt made itself obvious. Shaky hands retrieved swords from the mud, some began to weep silently. "Reform the formation!" Vedis called out, putting on his helmet. Once a glorious shining crimson, now stained with mud, blood and ichor. "You're nervous." He spoke calmly now, the yelling of a drill instructor wouldn't accomplish what he needed to do now. "It's ok, I felt that way too. When it starts, training will tell you to raise your shield when a knife comes your way. To swing your sword when you see an opening, the usual drills. Don't. You, and me, we're not machines. See the situation, and let instinct guide you. You were taught to fight training dummies, this..." The Elf looked up slightly to observe the Undead forces that lay ready for them. Apparently they had caught sight of their movements, the minions beginning to get restless. "... This is a descent into Hell." A brief glance back to observe his now stilled troops, and then the briefest flash of a smile before Vedis turns his attention back onto the now slowly advancing forces. "Remember, we are Blood Knights. We are Silvermoon's guardians. We fight along with the Light... and this pestilence that defiles our lands will never be stronger than us."

Bright green eyes snap open, the wounded Elf trying to sit up before quickly clutching the gash on his stomach. "That dream again..." A brief glance around to make sure he was alone, and then the Elf slowly and painfully rose to his feet. Using his sword as a makeshift cane, he resumed his slow journey. "I have get out of here... South... I must go South..."