(( not for the screamish.. violence rating ++ Special thanks to Alathreal for editing my crappy english grammar. Still a bit rough on the edges, but a first draw that i probs wont work on for a bit, so just read and pretend all elves look the same (they do actually.. ) ))
Felendren suppressed his coughing. This was not a good time to reveal his position. He looked around at the ferocious horse-men that are the Centaurs. Their hooves could crush him to a pulp within seconds…The feeling of having to cough passed and he focused back on his goal. Thanks to his training, he was practically invisible even when he was standing in the middle of this dusty opening within the valley of the Thousand Needles. His clothing was mixture of red and yellow colors, but he had learned to bend the light off him very early in his training. The Centaur remained oblivious to his presence. Felendren closed in on a smaller one nearby. He watched the creature, which appeared to be a female judging by her naked chest and slightly more delicate features. He noticed the bag on her horse back and slipped his hand in to steal a few coins. These creature where stupid and easy targets, but unfortunately also not very rich. He almost let out a sigh at the few copper coins he managed to get. ‘It’s time to move onto some richer targets. ‘
Felendren sneaked to the edge of the encampment. He made sure he placed his soft soled boots on the harder, rockier like patches on the ground so he wouldn’t kick up any of the dusty sand to reveal his presence. He made quick progress and soon reached the edge of the clearing, where he almost had a heart attack when he saw a shimmering figure loom up before him. Felendren froze, every muscle in his body taut and ready to either fight or flee. He watched the figure; it had its back turned to him and was hard to spot. He recognized a fellow in the art of stealth right away. This rogue was using the same technique he was using to make himself nearly invisible. The humanoid turned, but did not spot him. Felendren frowned as he recognized a human male. The male wore dark leather armor and a black mask, but it did not hide the stockiness of is figure or the crude facial features. The human seemed to be waiting for something, and was still oblivious to Felendren's presence. Felendren’s face, that was more used to laughing curled up in an angry glare. His light green eyes where already looking for an exposed piece of flesh to stick his daggers into. He hated these half beasts. His own kind had taught them magic, formed an alliance with the ape like creatures only to be betrayed by them years later. He remembered the invading scourge well, and how the humans had refused to send his kind proper help. Every breath this human took was like a mockery to Felendren. He had never liked the humans much. Their voices are harsh and full of snappy tones. He had never bothered to learn the sounds they called a language. They smelled like filth and the carcasses they enjoyed eating. This one was sweating in his armor, the scent of which defiled Felendren’s nose and he suppressed the urge to barf. This human would have to die, for his presence was an insult.
Felendren sneaked closer to the human, his face grim as he prepared to end it clean and quick. Felendren was not a cruel elf; he would help this human out of the misery that was his existence. He put the dagger of his left hand, his main hand, high to strike down at the humans exposed neck. Whether Felendren had breathed too hard in anticipation, or the human had been warned by some sort of sixth sense, he didn’t know but it turned and managed to block Felendren’s dagger with one of his own just in time. The fight was on. The two males circled around each other, using one dagger to defend and the other to stab at each others defense. Felendren did a few stabbing blows to the humans throat which were easily blocked. The human narrowed his eyes and moved his head so his mask fell down. He had a cruel mouth with thin lips that where set in a smirk. Felendren’s sloppy prods had probably left this ape-man to believe that Felendren was a rooky. The elf kept his face stoic. The human’s miscalculation did not give him any satisfaction, it just annoyed him more. It was proof that his beliefs about humans were true... they were dumb, ape like creatures that were too vain to ever truly succeed. The human lunged and Felendren was a split second late with his dodge. A long bloody line appeared on his lower arm. Let him have the first blood... Felendren made another feint disguised as a sloppy attack and the human lunged. Felendren dropped to a squat to strike up and wide with both daggers moving in opposite directions. A risky move, but it was worth it. The daggers of the other rogue went wide and Felendren stabbed both of his blades in the now exposed neck and pulled them towards him, ripping out the human’s throat in the process. Felendren cursed as the fountain of blood squirted his face and tunic. Stealth has no bloody use when predators can smell the blood on a person from a dozen paces away. He cursed himself for being foolish and started to clean of the blood with some conjured water he bought from a mage. The magical water worked wonders, and the blood was quickly washed of his face and even his clothes and hair. He looked at the now dead human and wiped his daggers clean on the dead man’s tunic. He kneeled by the corpse and turned it around on its back. He checked the daggers the rogue had first. They were finely made, but not as well balanced as his. He pocketed them anyway; he could always hurl them at an enemy when he was in a pitch. One of the first lessons he had learned was never to throw a good dagger at an enemy. These cheaper ones could do the job just as well. A realization struck him... what is a lone human doing way out here? As far as he knew, there were no major alliance settlements out here. Hmm ... Felendren kneeled back down and checked the ape-mans pockets. Some gold coins... nothing more... He had a hunch and cut open the man’s tunic.
There it was... a small hidden pocket. He picked out a tiny cylindrical scroll casing and checked and turned it around in his hands. Light weight material... finely made... probably trapped... Felendren grabbed his lock picking tools and took out a long thin pin. He prodded the locking mechanism until he was rewarded with an audible click. A smirk appeared on Felendren’s face... No doubt the tiny tube would have exuded some nasty pins had he tried to open it right away... perhaps poisoned as well. He safely opened the tube and took a small scroll from it. He threw the case into the dusty sands and
opened the scroll... damnit! That pathetic excuse for a language... he sighed... maybe it was time to pay his younger brother a visit...
Felendren went back into hiding, and traveled with great haste to Freewind post, the tauren outpost nearby. He dropped his veil before he reached the lift. No use in startling the guards. The tauren are a large race. Their fur covered their entire bodies and their big hooves and heavy war axes where enough to crush him in moments. He smirked as he realized how ironic it would be to be mistakenly killed by the generally gentle and wise creatures. His stomach felt queasy as the lift raced up. He walked straight to the female that was the master of wyverns. Felendren thought she was scowling at him, though it was hard to tell from their cow like faces. He had once made the mistake to call her "cow-women" and even though he apologized for it about a million times now, the female still didn’t seem to like him much. He asked her for a wyvern to Orgrimmar in the most polite voice he could muster, bowing deeply. She gave him the reins of the beast without saying anything and seemed to make sure to touch his hand as little as possible when he offered her the payment. He shrugged it off, angry tauren females where not his biggest problem right now. He took off for the long flight to the orc city.
Once there he wasted no time in getting to the zeppelin bound for the glades of Tirisfal. He paid the small goblin captain and went below, spending the trip being sick from the motion of the vessel.
A couple of days later, Felendren sat foot on the grounds of Lordearon. Orc and tauren guards were replaced by the undead Forsaken. They mostly ignored him as he made his way to the lift. He cursed softly as he felt his stomach protest once again while riding down with great speed. He went straight to the magic quarter, where his brother would most likely be. Felendren pressed his face mask close to his nose and mouth as the stench of the sewers and rot hit him like a blow to the face. He coughed and frowned as he spotted the sputters of blood on the inside of his hand. He had been coughing up blood ever since he “fell” of the mage city of Dalaran. He sighed as he realized he would have to pay a visit to a priest soon. Not now though... Felendren was way too curious about the context of the small scroll and made his way to the outer-ring. Not many travelers came through the Undercity of the Forsaken. It was all the same to Felendren, no people around meant no questions asked. He smiled as he recognized his brother sitting on the floor in a small room in the mage quarter of the city. He was reading a huge tome. Felendren took this moment to look around. Looking at his older brother always felt like looking into a darkened mirror image. His hair was darker and he grew a small goatee, but they were the
same in every other aspect. He heard a small gasp and spotted the blonde male elf that hung around his brother. Felendren’s girlfriend Alathreal had told him the young Viridior gave her the creeps, but the male was always surprisingly silent whenever Felendren was around. The male looked at him with big expecting eyes and opened his mouth to speak, then glanced at Vivex and shut his mouth so abruptly it made a slight clicking sound. His younger brother noticed the sound and looked up. Vivex spotted Felendren right away and his somewhat boyish face broke into a smile.’ Greetingss my dearest brother! ’ Felendren smirked; his kid brother had such a funny way of speaking. He startled as he spotted movement from the corner of his eyes and a high feminine giggle was heard. The gloomy female, Cyli... he couldn’t believed he had missed this third addition to his brothers small band. – ‘Hello brother, how have you been?’ He asked.’ Busy, busy... speaking -of- which... what brings my elder brother to the fair city of forsaken?’ Felendren told him the story of the human rogue and gave him the small scroll.’ Alas brother... my knowledge of the human tongue is limited, but I will have my contacts decipher this –for- you as soon as possible!’ Felendren nodded his thanks and left his brother back to his studies. He didn’t notice that his brothers’ smile had a cruel edge to it, and that his black eyes had started to crackle with purple energy. As far as Felendren was concerned, his little brother was an angel who could do no wrong.
Only a few days later, Felendren was awoken from his nap in the Murder row Inn by a small forsaken boy. He felt sorry for the youngster, who had clearly died from the plague at an extremely young age. The child gave him a heavy big bag and a small note, and then ran off to the safety of his own city.
Felendren opened the note and read:
Dearest brother,
my scholar contacts have revealed that the scroll was indeed a
spell of teleportation. Not of the person, but of this tome. I thought you
might want it, so I had my scholars work day and night to translate it for you.
Use it wisely brother.
Kindest regards,
Vivex Felarorah
Felendren took the big book out of it’s protective wrapping. His eyes widened as he saw the title: Troll Nature, a work on troll culture and worship. His heart raced as he opened the book and a small smirk appeared on his face when he saw that the book spoke of many aspects of troll culture... including how to piss of their Loa... This was just what he needed... just what he had wanted to know. Now the disgusting troll that had murdered his baby sister will pay... He couldn’t kill him, but Felendren had already played with the idea of paying back this troll with his own culture... Thanks to this book,he had all he needed to try and take from the troll what he loved most... his Loa. Felendren’s smirk became a wicked grin as a plan started to form in his head. The hunt was on.
Vivex dismissed the image of his brother and let out a high pitched note that sounded like a giggle. How perfect... He sent the payment for the life of the human assassin to its master. It had done a brilliant job in planting the small scroll where Felendren could find it. Vivex felt giddy with anticipation as he pictured the chaos his brother would create. An elf, trying to mess with troll Loa... it was just too good to be true. Not that Vivex cared for the death of his young sister, but he just couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste for some wickedly brilliant chaos. He could have given Felendren the tome of course, but where was the fun in that? Besides, even if things would go wrong somehow, he could now never be truly linked to the book... He –had- just let it be translated after all... right? He laughed, unwittingly using his warlock gained powers to make the laugh sound absolutely terrifying. It echoed against the walls of the small room he was in.
Vivex concentrated back on his scrying orb, and within seconds the image of the beautiful Alathreal, the girlfriend of his brother appeared. She was playing with the necklace Felendren had given her. Vivex felt a small shiver of pleasure run down his spine.’ Yess yess dearest... Wear tha-t thing where ever you go...’ Vivex chuckled as he remembered how easy it had been to convince his brother to let him cast a spell of “protection” on the necklace. Of course he had done no such thing... ‘Soon dearest... you will follow -my- commands...’
He dismissed the image and focused on another target. This male elf was powerful, and more importantly... corrupt if the youngest of the Felarorah borther’s contacts could be believed. Lord Magyk Sunwing... If he could somehow get a hold on this one, there would be no end to the destruction he could cause, the mere fantasy of which made him shiver in delight. He tried to scry the elf, but was quickly met by a barrier. Vivex cursed as he felt the presence of the ancient Lord lash out at him, trying to find him. He quickly retreated behind the barriers he had already set into place around the small room. He felt the presence of the Lord prod the barriers for a weakness for a long time, before he finally gave up. This is why he hated dealing with other warlocks... In order to survive their training they have to become vicious, cunning and slightly paranoid. He sighed as he walked to his closet. He opened the doors and fingered a white priest like robe. Maybe it was time to put on the goody,goody act once more and pay this vain elf Lord a personal visit...
