Post by Sanara on Apr 1, 2007 11:33:20 GMT -1
Darkshore. A land condemned to darkness and shadow, the ideal home-away-from-home for evil in the Night Elven lands.
The Master's Glaive, a sacred location holding the skeleton of what is said to be an Old God slain before time.
The last few years the cult of the Twilight's Hammer has held this point for their occult prayers and foul worships.
Effort had been made to drive them out, but their numbers never dwindled. No matter how many were slain, more would take their place. Perfect.
The thundering hooves of a black steed came to a halt on the edge of the deep "pit" that held the Master's Glaive, followed up by slight, softer hoofsteps.
A tall, hooded figure slid down the 'wall' down to the ground below, faced by several of the Hammer's followers.
The figure's somewhat bulky shape didn't conceal the more femenine 'features' of the creature, and the faintly glowing eyes said enough in itself.
-"Ah, a night elf..." one of the cultists began, "I've been waiting for a chance like this!"
The bulky woman let out a laugh and threw back her cowl and dropped her cloak, revealing her tail, hooved legs, and horns protruding through the helmet she was wearing.
The cultists froze still for a moment, seemingly in fear. And with right.
Her armor was spiked on many ends, her hands like talons, her large battleaxe held easilly in one hand and the fierce, feral glow in her eyes blazing up.
-"Eredar." the cultist said, to correct himself.
-"If only you were that lucky." Sanara said, hiding a cruel grin behind her helmet before she launched out at the human.
In one motion, she severed his head from his shoulders before moving on to the next target. She stomped her hoof through the fragile chest of an undead, spraying cold, black gore out of it's back, before turning to bash a nearby human woman over the face with the backside of her axe. The very force of the blow smashed the woman's face to a bloodied mess as she fell on her back screaming as much as her mauled face could manage.
Sanara threw her axe next, severing another undead's arm, and then turned her attention to another female human.
The human raised her hammer as to threaten Sanara but to no real avail as in a second or less the Draenei had leapt through the air, pinning the human to the ground and using her mail-covered, claw-like hands to dig into the human's neck, blood gushing out on to Sanara's helmet and chest.
Another cultist, a male orc, came charging behind her, roaring and raising his axe high in the air. Without looking at the orc, Sanara launched a blast of frost, the heavy chunk of ice crashing into the chest of the orc, snapping his ribs and breaking his internal organs, which let the orc die coughing blood.
Unbothered by the orc, Sanara removed her helmet and placed it to the side as she sat down on top of the dead woman. With a mocking grip on the human's chest Sanara leaned in and bit into the torn-up wound on her neck, her fangs hooking into it as she tore out and chewed the raw, still warm flesh, swalling it with a bellowing growl.
After savoring the taste she dove down again, ripping and tearing with claw and teeth, her right hand still toying with the woman's breast.
She felt the rush, the blood fuelling her pleasure and satisfying her hunger, the crude hunger she experienced ever since she came to the wretched world, without the possibility to hunt the heretics and lesser lifeforms for food. She knew that the Gift made the others feel, hear, maybe even see what she was doing, but she couldn't care less.
She had already moved on to the orc's corpse, relishing in the familiar taste as the dark, nearly black blood dripped from her lips to her legs. "Madness" she heard. "Insane". They knew, and they were coming. She still didn't care.
A gnome and a human charged, shouting something about their Gods and for carnage. Carnage indeed.
Despite the heavy chainmail armor covering her body, Sanara darted to the side and launched into the side of the human, knocking him over, and sinking her teeth into his neckline. The gnome was quick to respond and slammed her back with his hammer, causing her to jolt up, away from the human, leaving him with only four small puncture wounds in his neck, but not in a major artery.
Sanara was nearly stunned by the pain from the hammer, but quickly came to her senses and pinned the gnome beneath her hooves, raising her right one and stomping down with such force that it broke the gnome's face, shattering red all over her legs. The human was up, but turned to run.
Sanara was too fast, and after forcing him face-down into the shallow water, she finished what she started by digging her finger into the small wounds she made, and ripping out his flesh, revealing his jugular vein. She drank from the fountain spraying out of him, the salty taste of fresh blood causing her eyes to nearly roll back in pleasure.
"I am Radison the Firecaller!" a robed human exclaimed at her, "And by our Masters you wi-"...
He wasn't allowed to finish the sentence, Sanara had already slammed into him, causing him to lose his breath. He tried to conjure a fireblast to knock her away but to no avail. She dug her 'claws' into his eyes, and laughed loudly as his pained screams mixed with the sound of his eyes being crushed in their sockets. Blinded and writhing in agony, Sanara couldn't bear to end his suffering just yet, and dug her hands into his gut. After some work, she managed to rip out part of his internal organs, throwing the unedible items aside.
He was already dead now, but none the less the used the opening in his gut to snap open his ribcage, revealing what she had been searching for; A fresh, heretic heart.
She knew that her 'allies' were coming to 'help' her, so she devoured the human's heart ferociously, uncaring for the small parts dripping on to her tabard.
Picking up her axe and putting her helmet on, she wandered up the path, soon met up by her horse. The tall, black horse gave a grim but affirmative nod, as if it understood her intentions. She wouldn't doubt if he did.
Quickly, she rode southward, to feed further on what she heard was the "Dark Strand"...
Many, many hours later, Sanara found herself in Ironforge, washing herself and her armor off in the Mystic Ward, supervised by a dwarven priestess.
-"Poor lass, ye've been thru' quite tha' lot today, 'aven't ye?" the dwarf smiled.
Sanara nodded slowly, almost sorrowfully as she lowered herself deeper into the bath.
-"I'll git ye a cold one, would 'at make ye feel better?" she asked.
-"Yes... Thank you." Sanara responded, attempting to sound weak and hurt as the dwarven woman scuffled off to purchase her a drink.
It was a good day to be Sana.
The Master's Glaive, a sacred location holding the skeleton of what is said to be an Old God slain before time.
The last few years the cult of the Twilight's Hammer has held this point for their occult prayers and foul worships.
Effort had been made to drive them out, but their numbers never dwindled. No matter how many were slain, more would take their place. Perfect.
The thundering hooves of a black steed came to a halt on the edge of the deep "pit" that held the Master's Glaive, followed up by slight, softer hoofsteps.
A tall, hooded figure slid down the 'wall' down to the ground below, faced by several of the Hammer's followers.
The figure's somewhat bulky shape didn't conceal the more femenine 'features' of the creature, and the faintly glowing eyes said enough in itself.
-"Ah, a night elf..." one of the cultists began, "I've been waiting for a chance like this!"
The bulky woman let out a laugh and threw back her cowl and dropped her cloak, revealing her tail, hooved legs, and horns protruding through the helmet she was wearing.
The cultists froze still for a moment, seemingly in fear. And with right.
Her armor was spiked on many ends, her hands like talons, her large battleaxe held easilly in one hand and the fierce, feral glow in her eyes blazing up.
-"Eredar." the cultist said, to correct himself.
-"If only you were that lucky." Sanara said, hiding a cruel grin behind her helmet before she launched out at the human.
In one motion, she severed his head from his shoulders before moving on to the next target. She stomped her hoof through the fragile chest of an undead, spraying cold, black gore out of it's back, before turning to bash a nearby human woman over the face with the backside of her axe. The very force of the blow smashed the woman's face to a bloodied mess as she fell on her back screaming as much as her mauled face could manage.
Sanara threw her axe next, severing another undead's arm, and then turned her attention to another female human.
The human raised her hammer as to threaten Sanara but to no real avail as in a second or less the Draenei had leapt through the air, pinning the human to the ground and using her mail-covered, claw-like hands to dig into the human's neck, blood gushing out on to Sanara's helmet and chest.
Another cultist, a male orc, came charging behind her, roaring and raising his axe high in the air. Without looking at the orc, Sanara launched a blast of frost, the heavy chunk of ice crashing into the chest of the orc, snapping his ribs and breaking his internal organs, which let the orc die coughing blood.
Unbothered by the orc, Sanara removed her helmet and placed it to the side as she sat down on top of the dead woman. With a mocking grip on the human's chest Sanara leaned in and bit into the torn-up wound on her neck, her fangs hooking into it as she tore out and chewed the raw, still warm flesh, swalling it with a bellowing growl.
After savoring the taste she dove down again, ripping and tearing with claw and teeth, her right hand still toying with the woman's breast.
She felt the rush, the blood fuelling her pleasure and satisfying her hunger, the crude hunger she experienced ever since she came to the wretched world, without the possibility to hunt the heretics and lesser lifeforms for food. She knew that the Gift made the others feel, hear, maybe even see what she was doing, but she couldn't care less.
She had already moved on to the orc's corpse, relishing in the familiar taste as the dark, nearly black blood dripped from her lips to her legs. "Madness" she heard. "Insane". They knew, and they were coming. She still didn't care.
A gnome and a human charged, shouting something about their Gods and for carnage. Carnage indeed.
Despite the heavy chainmail armor covering her body, Sanara darted to the side and launched into the side of the human, knocking him over, and sinking her teeth into his neckline. The gnome was quick to respond and slammed her back with his hammer, causing her to jolt up, away from the human, leaving him with only four small puncture wounds in his neck, but not in a major artery.
Sanara was nearly stunned by the pain from the hammer, but quickly came to her senses and pinned the gnome beneath her hooves, raising her right one and stomping down with such force that it broke the gnome's face, shattering red all over her legs. The human was up, but turned to run.
Sanara was too fast, and after forcing him face-down into the shallow water, she finished what she started by digging her finger into the small wounds she made, and ripping out his flesh, revealing his jugular vein. She drank from the fountain spraying out of him, the salty taste of fresh blood causing her eyes to nearly roll back in pleasure.
"I am Radison the Firecaller!" a robed human exclaimed at her, "And by our Masters you wi-"...
He wasn't allowed to finish the sentence, Sanara had already slammed into him, causing him to lose his breath. He tried to conjure a fireblast to knock her away but to no avail. She dug her 'claws' into his eyes, and laughed loudly as his pained screams mixed with the sound of his eyes being crushed in their sockets. Blinded and writhing in agony, Sanara couldn't bear to end his suffering just yet, and dug her hands into his gut. After some work, she managed to rip out part of his internal organs, throwing the unedible items aside.
He was already dead now, but none the less the used the opening in his gut to snap open his ribcage, revealing what she had been searching for; A fresh, heretic heart.
She knew that her 'allies' were coming to 'help' her, so she devoured the human's heart ferociously, uncaring for the small parts dripping on to her tabard.
Picking up her axe and putting her helmet on, she wandered up the path, soon met up by her horse. The tall, black horse gave a grim but affirmative nod, as if it understood her intentions. She wouldn't doubt if he did.
Quickly, she rode southward, to feed further on what she heard was the "Dark Strand"...
Many, many hours later, Sanara found herself in Ironforge, washing herself and her armor off in the Mystic Ward, supervised by a dwarven priestess.
-"Poor lass, ye've been thru' quite tha' lot today, 'aven't ye?" the dwarf smiled.
Sanara nodded slowly, almost sorrowfully as she lowered herself deeper into the bath.
-"I'll git ye a cold one, would 'at make ye feel better?" she asked.
-"Yes... Thank you." Sanara responded, attempting to sound weak and hurt as the dwarven woman scuffled off to purchase her a drink.
It was a good day to be Sana.
