The Root of Madness.

With a crack, Cain’s head got Thrown back as yellow lightning exploded out his eyes, arcing round his body running through all the veins and shimmering across the skin. The two yellow orbs shimmered, sensing the presence of their counterparts locked inside the Sunwell time loop and disappeared, reappearing a split second later as Cain lay twitching on the ground, the strength drained from his body. A second crack echoed across the island as Cain’s back bent upwards, energy pushing out of him from all sides as the two curses fought inside his body, vying for control. Thrown back onto his feet Cain grabbed his side, as the yellow arcane energy shocked around his body again, reaching out, and shattering one of the glass and Iron canisters on his belt, releasing the thick acrid liquid contained inside that evaporated upon impact with the air, strong smelling green vapours billowing from the shattered blight bomb on the ground. With another bang Fire began exploding from Cain’s body, the flames immediately igniting the gas, burning with a strong green flame, yellow light spewing out of the inferno. With a final snap, Cain disappeared leaving the fell fire burning itself out.

Black.

In the darkness, Cain watched Drellia appear before him. Looking at her he tried to move his legs, which worked. Looking briefly down he saw his armour was no longer tarnished and old, the gold trim was shiny and the chunks of flesh that had been torn out his arms were back, covered in Azure Lordearon blue. He walked towards his wife, looking into her deep eyes, she was alive to, her skin once again the perky pink it had used to be, once again wearing her Ceremonial robes. Smiling he walked up to her, and bending down, moved his lips towards hers as they embraced. As their lips touched, they flashed red and faded to white, the pink draining out their skin, the flesh on Cain’s forehead burning away to reveal the long scars that marked his death. His eyes rotted, leaving an orange gem in each socket, which glowed with a strong passion, Arcane electricity flaking out, tendrils of power eminating from the cold stone, dancing off Drellias cheeks. Cain’s skin on his Elbows and legs tore, the flesh ripping itself apart and his armour tarnishing and blemishing, Arcane power flowing from Drellias body, her face flushing white as the warmth and power was drawn out of it into Cain’s eyes. With a scream, Drellia fell from Cain’s arms, falling down into the blackness, into a coffin which closed as she dropped in, vanishing from sight. Roaring in horror and shock, Cain jumped after her, but a black floor stopped him, unable to reach after his wife. Drawing his sword, the inscription on the blade still reading the engagement message from his wife he swung it around in anger, screaming for whatever has taken her to give her back.
Then the Stopwatch appeared.
Forty feet high, the watch crafted from the shard of time, ticking on and on.
“Fooooool you seek to use timeeeee for your own needssssss. Phantazzzzz wassss dangerouss but you cannot leave him there… You are beginning to feelll the consequencesss of your own actionsss. Time is infinite…”
His eyes opening wide, Cain stood on the top of his tower in Lordearon city, his arms widespread to welcome the Storm that raged above the ruined metropolis. Laughing, his voice throwing across the scene he opened his mouth, the green rain washing over his body, drenching his clothes he cackled, the laughter echoing across Tirisfal.
It felt good to be back.

A flash and a smell of acrid smoke heralded Cain’s return, a waft of green mist filling the hearth as the robed Forsaken stepped out and pocketed the hearthstone. He carried a large pile of papers, a stack of reports that had built up during his absence, most of which required his signature. Looking out of his tower, the arched windows giving a 360 degree view of the ruined city, Cain watched a spirit set fire to Brill once again, small underlings franticly trying to douse the flames. Behind him a small group of Apothecaries set up camp near the lakeside, no doubt on Faranells orders, the breakages in the Lower Apothecarium prevented lake water testing and progress had to be made. Thick green rain pelted down from the sickly green skies above, splashing on the balcony that ran around the tower, but making it no further than the magical barrier that substituted in for windows. Placing the reports on a table next to an antique wing backed chair, Cain strolled over to the Decanter that stood by one of the Arches and calmly poured himself a glass of Port. Reaching over, he moved the stick on a wonderful gnomish device he had picked up in Ratchet, placing it calmly onto a thin black disk, which began rotating slowly, causing soothing music to play out of a large copper trumpet. Holding the glass of port in one hand, Cain slipped into his chair and picked up a Report, looking out at the rain.

“Lets see, I’m apparently dead. Shame, that’s happened before, need to get that corrected. And The Good Doctor has replaced me, how wonderful, I‘ll see if I can make that a permanent placement. Still no sign of Brightflame, shame, but Apothecary Lydon is being proposed to get the Placement, I always liked him. Faranell is beginning testing of a new recruitment system, that seems to be in Order, and.. Oh that is interesting.”
Lowering the file in his hand, Cain slipped a map out of the sleeve that sat in the light brown paper. The Map was a detailed map of Lordearon, from Thangol Span to The Isle of Quel’dalas, filled in in near expert cartography, by an artist known as ‘OS.’ However his handiwork was spoiled by three large white crosses, sat above Hillsbrad, Gilneas… and Silvermoon.