The Multiverse War, Part One

Chapter 11

AN: The Bastion of Twilight, a magically-man-made stain upon the face of Azeroth. A tower of black steel engulfed in malicious energy, its only entrance being a portal to its innards at the peak. This tower is where the Twilight Hammer runs the majority of its operations. It was previously overseen by a two-headed ogre mage named Cho'Gall, whose body was warped with cancerous magics, causing eyes to grow all over his hulking form. Now that the Twilight's Hammer is mostly defeated, the tower is mostly a decoration, only used for a few desperate cultists clinging to their dying faith. In the belly of this monster lives a worse monster, a terrible creature capable of no mercy.

Bellendore stepped down the creaking wooden stairs, and awoke suddenly on a cold steel floor with the night sky spread above him. His head ached and a strong breeze blew over him. He stood, groaning, and rubbed the back of his head. As he planted his feet, his heel slipped off the edge of the large platform he was laid upon. He stumbled backward and nearly plummeted to his death, but a strange being caught him by the neck of his robes and barely kept him from falling. Instead of pulling him up however, the pale-skinned elf held him in place, leaning over the edge. If the elf were to let go, Bellendore would fall over five-hundred feet.

The two stared silently at each other for a moment, and Bellendore took this opportunity to give his "savior" a look-over. His skin was paper white, nearly tinted blue, and corrupt veins pumped a dark purple fluid through his body. The veins glowed softly and pulsed in rhythm with the elf's heart beat and his nearly translucent skin made them all the more prominent. His eyes were also a solid, frosty blue, like the silver eyes of a night elf but not as bright, and a more icy color.

His hair was long, and a dark, deep shade of blue, with purple and white energies flowing through the tips, like his hair was a magical fuse, lit at the bottom with void energies. His hair was shaggy, as was his large beard, and he grinned maniacally at the warlock, knowing the old man's life was in his hands.

Bellendore recognized him as a void elf, but before I can explain what a void elf is, I must preface it with what a blood elf is. A blood elf, despite sounding awfully dramatic, is a regular elf. They worship the sun and are descendants of, and slightly shorter than, night elves. Void elves are blood elves that have accepted the gift of the Old Gods or their masters, the Void Lords. Typically, void elves affiliate themselves with the Alliance, since the first void elf was a blood elf who was an ally of the Alliance. She shared her powers with her brethren, and soon there were many like her. However, those who received their power instead from the Void Lords themselves, have no such obligations.

This particular void elf was shirtless, dressed in nothing but ragged trousers of dirty linen. His feet were wrapped in what seemed like raw linen cloth, simply to act as makeshift shoes.

He grinned wider, and spoke in a voice like ice, "I've got you, Grand Warlock. You won't be hurting my brothers and sisters any longer. You won't be lying or stealing from us ever again."

Bellendore spat in the void elf's face, "Who are you?"

"I am an agent, Grand Warlock, of your lieutenant Solmar, who you try constantly to betray. No longer! I have already sent word to him of your trespasses, and soon you will be the one to answer for your crimes."

Bellendore struck out with his right palm, smashing the agent in the solar plexus and sending him staggering backward. He released Bellendore, allowing the warlock to cast a spell that allowed him to hover and return to the platform, just in front of the broken portal.

The void elf recovered quickly, and drew a shank, clearly crafted haphazardly. He used it to cut his palm and spread the blood over it, giving it an unstable enchantment that would rapidly siphon Bellendore's life energy if he were to allow it to cut him.