And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
|
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The evening air was crisp and fresh against Lythania's lungs as she took in a deep breath in her sleep and rolled over in her soft bed in Stormwind City. She had a long day ahead of her, and had decided to take a nap after work. Unbeknownst to her, Ahri, her guild master, padded softly into the room. He crouched over her, his glowing eyes blinking in the soft candlelight, and shook her awake from her slumber.
"Lyth! Lyyyyyth! It's time to wake up!"
"What? Who... What time is it?"
"It's time to go. The others told me to come wake you up."
"Nngh? Alright, give me a few to get ready."
Struggling to her still-sleepy feet, Lythania strapped on her battle-worn but trusty armor, knowing full well what was in store for her. Hauling up her backpack of supplies and trinkets, she looked at herself in the mirror and checked her room to make sure she didn't forget anything for she knew it was going to be a long, hard battle. When she was satisfied, she looked around for Ahri, but as quickly as he appeared, he was nowhere to be found.
With one uneventful gryphon flight to Darkshire and a short ride on Caramel later, she arrived at her destination.
Zul'Gurub.
She never really liked this place. Trolls and their voodoo tricks, snakes, raptors. She shuddered as she pushed open the tall, iron gates that separated the vile creatures from her. Stepping through, she smiled widely. Almost all of her colleagues had already gathered, preparing for the battles that would soon ensue. She recognized most of them, having fought alongside many during her early days of her training, and many others as she advanced.
Spells were being cast, incantations being said, conjurations out of thin air, the grinding of stone against blade edge. They were like music to Lythania's ears. A well-prepared and organized team would have no problems in a fight, she thought to herself, and then smiled grimly. But one mistake could mean fatality.
Looking around the makeshift camp just beyond the Zul'Gurub gates, she looked around for those she recognized. Lysar and Stormy, great paladins true to the Light, Prothall, Wayloren and Rixie, some of the Guild's most talented mages, Asteoria the outspoken mistress of the dark magicks, Takana, Ereth and Kathadien, skilled marksmen and hunters, Ahri, Sepryn, Saigh and Necrogen, masters in the art of stealth, Arbarus and Elemesnedene, proficient in the art of healing, and Conol and Aingle, accomplished swordsmen like herself.
A further look around, she found that there were a couple of unfamiliar faces. Asking around she found out their names to be Valandiel, another priest of great skill and Vanorsh, a warrior bound to his rage. Nodding to them, she prepared to sharpen her blades. The battle was about to begin.
The group ventured forth with no great mishaps, just a wrong footing here and there, but nothing the group couldn't handle at large. Inward they traveled until they came across Venoxis, an abomination of nature in himself. Guarded by four snakes, they needed a plan. And a good one, at that. One mistake and it could spell the end of them all.
Brace yourself, Lythania thought to herself. This is going to be hard. Listening intently to the plan that Ahri had laid out, she understood her role and had every intention of getting this done and over with. Grinding her teeth and gripping her sword hilts tightly, she felt a reassuring pat on her shoulder and turned to see a smiling Saigh smile down on her. She relaxed a little and looked to the task at hand.
The plan was this; the three mages had to cast polymorph spells on three of the snakes while Conol was to pick one up and beat the living daylights out of it, while Aingle was to face Venoxis one by one until the snakes were all killed. Lythania shuddered; she did not want to know how was like to have to face him on her own like Aingle had to. After the snakes were killed, they would have to attack Venoxis until told to stop and back up. Easy enough, Lythania thought. I could do that.
The chanting started and three little sheep appeared where the snakes had been. The plan was working well so far. Gripping tightly on her swords, she saw Conol charge the one snake that wasn't polymorphed and Aingle charge Venoxis, knocking him senseless for a few seconds. Pushing back on her left leg, Lythania propelled herself towards the snake that Conol had been attacking. Vanorsh too, and soon after, a full-fledged battle had commenced.
The first snake was downed pretty quickly, as was the next and then before they knew it, all four of the snakes were down. The mages took a few seconds to regain their breath as the rest attacked Venoxis in a ringing clash of various metals against scale. Then, it happened.
Venoxis himself turned into a snake!
Aingle shoved everyone out of his way, and taking a hint, everyone who was fighting him at melee range turned tail and ran. The sound of gunshots ricocheted off the walls and the smell of gunpowder wafted through the air; the whistle of arrows and the twanging of bows could also be heard. The hunters were in action, taking precise aim on Venoxis as the healers tried their best to keep Aingle alive. Asteoria concentrated hard, her lips chanting a dark incantation as she drained away Venoxis' energy. When she had sapped all she could, the rest moved in to take him down in one final, vicious attack.
The group tried hard not to hit each other in the mass of blades that were flying at Venoxis' scaly body. Lythania could not even see the magnitude of fireballs flung at him, courtesy of the mages. In desperation, Venoxis tried to cast a spell, affecting everyone who was in range. Cringing in pain, several backed away, frantically downing potions and using bandages on their wounds before going back into the heat of the battle.
Venoxis was getting weak.
"Just a little more!" yelled Ahri. This battle was nearing its end, they could tell. Venoxis was visibly weakening. Soon, he lay motionless on the dusty ground, and the extent of casualty in regard to the team was apparent. Several of the group members were critically wounded, and the healers were busying themselves, casting white lights from their hands onto the bodies of the fallen.
Lythania tended to her own wounds, tightening runecloth bandages around her arms and exposed flesh before helping out Vanorsh, who was beaten up rather badly during the battle. Silence prevailed between the two as they said unspoken words of understanding, both being warriors of a kind.
The entire group knew, however, that the night was not over just yet.
. // prawninator | 23:54 + ~ |
You might be living in my neighbourhood, or some other town or country far away. I don't know. And neither do you, at this point.
Wherever you are, I know I'll find you... if you don't find me first.
It's just a matter of time.
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