This article is fan fiction The contents herein are entirely player made and in no way represent official World of Warcraft lore or history. The characters, places, and events listed are of an independent nature and are applied for roleplaying purposes only.

I had an odd night a few days ago. What makes it odder than any other on this blasted and war torn continent? Listen, this is a good story, ok?

I was at Bloodvenom Falls in Felwood hanging with my buddy the local Wind Rider, when I learned of a group of Shadow Council who had started squating at a near by ruin. These guys are responsible for so much pain in this world that it makes my axe arm quiver (which axe arm? You ask, well both of them. Now be quite and listen) when I hear about them. Daemon summoning, soul stealing, dark rituals? I like my soul where it is thank you. I quickly mounted Bryana and rode off away from the sunset. At least…I assume there was a sunset. The trees are so thick in The Wood that it makes it hard to see properly.

I got to the area, the Jaedenar, and dismounted for battle. The place was littered with acolytes. I guess the soul stealing is hot with the younger crowd these days. I quickly dispatched the littles ones between me and my goal. What was my goal? To kill the leaders of this coven. The little ones are just stupid and in the way. To make a real dent in the power hierarchy you have to kill the real power. I got to the entrance of the place known as Shadow Hold and walked inside. The ramp wound ever downwards. A small problem, as I prefer the open desert to a hole in the ground, but my desire for justice moved me past the discomfort. When I finally reached the bottom I found the hole guarded more closely: two Hounds and a Darkweaver blocked my way further. I could kill a few, but this mission would end pretty quickly if they got smart and swarmed me.

I went back upstairs to ponder my predicament. Try anyway in a death defying berseker attack? Come back later with more hands? Both unsatisfying answers. I sat there for an hour or more before a fine orc shaman came upon me. As luck would have it, our goals coincided. His name was Trippn, and he turned out to be an incredible help. We fought our way past the Darkweavers and the Hounds, into the Satyrs and the Legionaires, all the while amazed at how deep underground this ruin really went. They must have been digging for years. We came around a corner and to my surprise found a human in mortal combat with two council goons. He looked like he could handle himself no problem, decked out in more armour than I carry, but we rushed in to lend a hand. Any enemy of the council is a friend of mine!

“Gloin har!” he said to us after we dispatched our foes, “Hir lars novaedi gar bur noth?”

My limited amount of human speak allowed me to understand that he wasn’t going to try to cleave us down. I hadn’t tried to construct a human sentence in years, but I gave it a try anyway.

“Agol…aesire…goibon”, kill undead guards. Good enough. I pointed at the dead bodies and he appeared to get the point.

“Gloin lo?” he asked and pointed ahead to where we could see another council member standing in the shadows.

I have hoped since then that he actually meant for the three of us to continue on down the hold, but obviously imperfect communication will only leave questions. I’ve never met a human so glorious. His armour seemed to shine with power even in the low light of this deep hole. His epic sword moved with such grace for such a massive thing. No matter how many warlocks he felled, his equipment seemed to always remain beautiful and perfect. At one point we stopped killing to introduce ourselves in our clumsy way. His name was Cyruse.

The three of us easily dispatched the leader of this coven and his three succubus guardians. I would say we hardly even broke a sweat. That’s an exaggeration, but you get what I mean. After the ringing from the last metal on metal contact had finally cleared from our ears we paused a moment. Can horde and alliance really work together? Or are we always destined to fight each other, no matter where we are? Cyruse looked at us and I could tell he was wondering the same thing. No longer bound by a common cause, what kept us from reverting back to our old customs? I wouldn’t have attacked him then; he would make the perfect opponent in the battlegrounds, but not today. Today was dedicated to killing the abomination known as the Shadow Council. Before I could struggle to put together a sentence telling him so, a scream came from inside a hole in the wall behind the dead warlock.

A scream? Were there more leaders? Were they in the middle of one of their horrific rites right now? I couldn’t leave without knowing so, I walked towards the sound, Trippn and Cyruse following. We left our differences in that room.

Inside the hole was a cavern larger than you would think should fit, more evidence of their long years rooted here. A long ramp lead down to a massive open area. In this huge cavern was a warlock, a cauldron, some fire, a night elf, and the biggest daemon I’ve had ever seen. His wings seemed to touch the roof of the cavern. We looked at each other, warrior, shaman and paladin and made the only decision we could. We ran in, axes whirling, sword flying and magic blazing. We managed to kill the warlock, but there always seem to be more where he came from. The daemon though, he took one hit and knocked me clear across the room. Cyruse put his shield up and got a few good strikes in, but eventually his shield weakened and failed and he was knocked to the ground as well. I got up and tried again with Trippn healing, but it was no use. I hope Cyruse doesn’t think me a coward, but I ran. I might be a juggernautess, but there’s no sense dying needlessly when hopelessly overpowered.

“Mush ni!” I heard screamed from the overworked lungs of the night elf as we ran up the ramp back to the dead bodies. I still don’t know what happened to Cyruse. I hope he lived. Best darn human I ever met. Not that I’ve met a lot. Mostly just ran from them in terror. Bloody creatures. Trippn and I said thanks and farewell. We promised to go back soon to save that elf and find Cyruse, but I could tell he was just as shaken up as I was. Was an elf worth it? Just an elf…just an elf. They all look the same, that human hadhad proved his honor…could a night elf as well? My curiosity had been piqued. And besides, something about her had caught my attention. She seemed familiar somehow.

Which leads me to the point of my story. Want to kill a daemon? *big grin*

((I wrote this story hook for an in-game role playing session for the Skullsplitters many many months ago. At that time there was no one writing stories or doing any role playing, so I tried to take it on myself to interject some into the guild. No one bit except for Aku. He’s been waiting a long time to hear the resolution to this story so please don’t let him down Tongue.

Please respond here, or in-game if you want to come. There’s no Zul’Gurub this weekend, so if I said 1pm on Sunday would anyone come?))

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