Bound By Fate

Part 1

Enchanted warglaives sing as they rip through the air, cutting into the carotid artery, demonic blood spraying the air that was filled with sounds of likewise fighting. Tehlmar Fel'lendar vaults over another doomguard as the first fell, his blades diving downwards to sink in between the demon's shoulder blades. He smiles darkly as his foe lets out a cry of rage and agony. Shifting his weight and forgetting his blades, he sidesteps as another demon rushed past. The glaive was slick with poison on the sharpened blade, slicing into the doomguard as a knife would through butter, a mere few inches from the demon hunter's face.

He couldn't help but smile again, despite the grave danger he and his allies were in. If they fell here, no one would be left to defend Azsuna from a massive invasion. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind, it would only serve to slow him down. Snatching up his blades from the sprawling corpse before him, he charged the other demon with blinding speed, dropping to the ground in a slide at the last possible second as the demon met him, his weapon retrieved.

The cold steel of Tehlmar's weapon cut through the tendons in one leg, and then the other, in an almost mechanical fashion. The demon falls forward, his legs rendered useless before Tehlmar gets up to turn on him. His blades flash, again and again, still offering no mercy to the demons of the Burning Legion. They had shown no mercy to his people during the War of the Ancients, so why would he show it in return if they didn't deserve it?

Memories of the horrible war flickered through his mind as he continued to fight. He could hear the screams, the defiance of the resistance that had risen from the ashes of a destroyed city, a destroyed life. Not many of his people survived the war, let alone the great breaking of their world that followed shortly afterward. Many either burned under the legion's merciless wrath or drowned in the waves of oceans newly formed. It was for their memory he fought, and he would avenge their deaths at any cost.

A young female fought at his side, her short black hair clinging to her face from the sweat she was producing. Horns like those of a goat curled backward from her skull, green blood that was thankfully not her own splattered all across them and her revealing armor. She fought with an unmatched ferocity that made the other elf swell with pride.

Lilyura Fel'lendar glanced at him, her lips curling upwards into a cruel smile. "It seems the prey is plentiful today, father... Although, we should get some aid. Not even we can hold back the Legion forever-!" She dives to the side, turning the fall into a roll as a demon barrels past her, clutching her warglaives before springing atop him. "Now!" Tehlmar nods in agreement, pulling aside a young mage, the small woman plastered with sweat and trembling.

"Go, get back to Khadgar, and tell him that we need aid here, now!" The mage stares at him, dumbfounded, before his words sink in. She raises a hand, blue light teleporting her away back to the mage city of Dalaran stationed high in the distant sky.

All he can do is pray to Elune that aid would come in time, or else Azsuna was doomed...

* * *

Weak sunlight filtered through the trees in the Dreamgrove, the spirits of night elves - wisps, as they were called - dancing around the flora and fauna. A finger touches one of the spirits gingerly, the wisp making a soft humming sound that brings a smile to the lips of the Archdruid.

She was sitting on the soft grass, her feet wrapped loosely with bandages, and clad in green robes with intricate designs etched out in lime green and silver-blue. Ravens sat upon her shoulder pads stomach up, their wings stretching up towards the sky above, and a crescent moon of glittering gold was floating in front of her hairline. That was how most people identified her, seeing as how one of the druids was already walking towards her.