Shadows Within

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Shyla wasn't going to kid herself; seeing that shadow frightened her, more than being in an entire town of night elves did. Arcane energy was pouring off of the human, but she almost felt something under it- something defiant, but trapped.
The shaman didn't really think, so much as her body moved on its own as she called a spirit to her hand and moved over to the young rogue. Calling his name, she reached out and touched his shoulder lightly.

He was alone, fighting off the radiant green flames that threatened to consume him. The barren, burnt expanse gave no solace from the nether-flames that unerringly chased the rogue across it existence.
He felt the unnatural heat closing in, and in reflexive, primal fear, pushed himself to move faster, trying to somehow outlast the fel energy-

Shyla pulled her hand away at once, the flesh feeling like it had been dipped into a bonfire. The trolless hissed and shook her hand, trying to relieve it of the phantom flames, taking a step back as the spirit jumped from the shaman to the human.
A hole in the arcane field opened suddenly, the corrupting energy seeping out and dissipating quickly. The small presence within it stirred, and the deformed shadow began to bend, trying to revert to its original shape.

-then a blast of cool, damp air splashed into Kaldeirn's face, forcing the flames back and clearing his nose of the scent of burnt flesh and bone.
He slammed his heels into the hard ground, skidding to a stop, and turned mid-slide to see a formless blue mass swirling in the air behind him, protecting him from the arcane fire. A voice, small and distant, but familiar, barely managed to pierce the roar of the flames.
"Kalderin!"
The rogue's head snapped up, looking to the blackened, empty sky. It was Shyla.

The mass of fel energy fell away suddenly, the human's shadow snapping back into form as he fell to a knee. Shyla was beside him in an instant, glancing between the rogue and the hill.
"No," she heard him say. "Not this time." He rose unsteadily, the shaman helping pull him to his feet. "You don't rule me," he growled, not talking to anyone in particular, but clearly meaning it to someone.
"'Oo choo talkin' to, mon?" the trolless asked insecurely.
Kalderin stopped dead for a moment, then looked at her. The two motes of sapphire light under the pitch-black veil of magic widened at her in surprise, or so Shyla guessed. "You heard that?"
The shaman tilted her head at him. "Ya, ah did. Wha's wrong wit' dat?" she asked.
"Because I'm speaking in Common," he told her, looking at the ground.

A feral, twisted growl snapped both of them back to the situation, and Kalderin lashed his empty right hand out, grabbing the satyr by the wrist and wrenching its arm behind its back.
With a single, smooth motion, he unsheathed his off-hand dagger and jammed the blade into the creature's temple, letting the slack body fall to the ground.
"Fight now, talk later!" he said in Orcish, charging toward the hill.

Nodding at the human with a light smirk, the shaman raised a lightning shield, called a stone spirit into her axe, and moved close to a group of night elf warriors.
One raised his sword to strike her, but the trolless flicked her water foci at the ground, producing a healing stream totem for the soldiers. The offending kal'dorei glanced between the shaman and her totem, then turned about and rejoined his companions.
Shyla joined them, swinging her axe at the beasts, calling down another totem to sear the flesh of her foes... with a carefully worded call to the spirits, to keep it from harming the elves.

Kalderin was having a harder time than he thought getting to the warlocks; now the satyrs were being mixed in with demons, forcing the rogue on the defensive to stay alive. He was swerving and dodging constantly, ducking under swiping claws and barely evading a hail of fireballs from several the imp minions blocking his path.
The satyrs soon changed to voidwalkers, and the imps to succubi, giving the rogue a mental pause. The ratio of minions to warlocks was far too great here; his senses were picking up at least four demons for each warlock at the ritual site. Worse still, Kalderin now felt the presence of additional warlocks on the hill, totaling six or seven, he wasn't sure.

And they knew he was coming. As soon as he crested the rise, the rogue was blasted by no less than three shadow bolts, immolated by a burst of fel fire, and struck with curses of agony and tongues.
"You're in over your head, child," one of the dark wizards said contemptuously as the young man dropped to his knees in pain.
Kladerin grit his teeth together and tried to stand, waves of fire and pain wracking his body. He now had a view of the small cabal, if only for a moment; the three humans, a blood elf, and two orcs.
"Leave him," the elf said over his shoulder, turning back to the circle. "We must finish the summons."
The pain slowly rising in his body, Kalderin somehow struggled to his feet, trying to think of a way to stall them without getting killed. Slowly, his mind began to work, remembering things he would have rather forgotten, and began chanting in Eredun, drawing on his own supply of arcane force with closed eyes.

A twitch of confusion, and one of the orcs turned his head to the rogue. The warlock's eyes went wide as he realized just what the human was doing; somehow, he was cannibalizing the Curses, tearing them apart for their mana.
"Sun'ri!" the orc yelled, drawing his wand.
The human's eye-lights flared up with a start, and they glowed a vicious, vibrant green.
Fel energy.

Ralian scrambled up the roof, steadying himself on the light slope, and took in the strange scene on the hill. He pulled his bow taut, looking through the deadly scope with both eyes, and focused. One of the human warlocks, a female, raised her arm to cast another spell-
And the arrow struck home, burying itself in her side, the magic bursting forth and silencing her. Two of her fellows looked over, easily seeing the night elf perched on top of the house, and mouthed something the hunter didn't understand.
He tracked a handful of the demons moving towards him, and wisely decided that he needed to move. As he rapidly slid down from his high vantage point, the young hunter saw something in the distance, looking like it was coming from the roads to the east.
The only thing out there is Splinter- oh no.

Fronai was running as fast as he could, leading the charge into Siverwing. "Remember," he shouted to the others, "we're here for the demons, and the demons alone!" Various shouts acknowledged the order, and the group of Horde soldiers surged forward with renewed vigor.

Shyla heard the thundering approach as well as anyone else in the outpost. The satyrs began falling back, up the side of the hill, but even as they retreated, demon spawn came down to fill the holes.
The crest of the Night Run was overflowing with arcane power, the fel energy surging down through Siverwing like a foul wave, even as the Horde's warriors arrived. Trolls, tauren, a few scattered forsaken, and orcs laid into the demons with all of their might, fighting the creatures to a standstill with the slowly tiring elves.

Shyla put her thumb and index finger into her mouth, right beside her tusks, and whistled, loud. There was a moment's pause, then the air behind her parted as her brother blinked up behind her.
"De boy's up deah," she said, pointing to the hill. "Ah don't know how long 'ee can 'old out, brudda."
A quick look and nod was all he gave her, and all that was needed. "FRONAI!" the mage bellowed as he ran towards the hill, knowing that the orc would get a few soldiers and follow.

Ralian didn't need to look behind him to know the demons were still chasing him. Alut was keeping pace by his side, but they were gaining on the hunter.
With a start, the night elf realized that he was about to charge headlong into a group of Horde, and quickly threw himself off to one side, clearing a path to the creatures chasing him. A wolf charged past the young hunter as he rose as quickly as his limbs would let him, and a priest chanted a handful of words, imbuing Ralian with fortitude.
The explosion of gunpowder tore through the air above him, as the wolf's master, a tauren, unloaded his rifle. The large figure lifted the kal'dorei a bit roughly by the shoulder to his feet, but not in a threatening way; Ralian could tell the bull-man just wanted more help in the fight, and the elf was more than happy to oblige, nocking an arrow onto his well-worn bow and taking careful aim.

Shyla ran behind the group, spurred on by a sudden wave of worry for their human. Something big was happening up on the hill, and the shaman didn't know what.
The forsaken healer and the tauren hunter were standing their ground with the night elf that she and Kalderin had helped earlier, and another kal'dorei, a druid, shifted into a bear and joined the fray. Seeing that this fight was covered, the trolless rushed past Fronai wordlessly, with Rajas following closely behind her.
The warrior looked at them, then at the fighters, then back to his companions. Even though he wasn't sure the four soldiers could hold this line for long, his gut told the orc that the kid needed the help. So, Fronai followed the mage.

Surges of free mana charged the rogue, giving him a constant flow of energy, fueling his murderous intents. He sprinted forward, lashing his foot out at the blood elf, kicking him in the ribs, then lunged abruptly at the noisy orc, jamming his main dagger into a spare sheath behind his back.
Drawing the blade, a slick green film of mind-numbing poison shining on the steel, Kalderin raked it across the warlock's face, then slipped behind the dazed orc for a stab in the back. The human didn't stop, jamming the twin daggers into his foe's belly, and, turning on his heel, spun entirely around for momentum and cleaved the daggers into the warlock's neck, rupturing at least one major artery.
As blood stained the boy's leather, the other warlocks acted, hurling more curses; weakness, agony, and elements. In response, the young rogue rushed at the silenced human, using the last of his sprint to ram his full weight into her. She sailed back a few feet-

Shyla heard a sharp scream, and looked up as Rajas pushed her down. A human tumbled through the air and landed, with a loud and sickening crack, on her head, which bent at a very unnatural angle as she lay on the ground.
Fronai looked up at where she had fallen, and even he felt the demonic energy cascading out of the still-breathing human. Growling, he slung his axe over his head, smashing the warlock's skull with ease.
The orc ran past his companions, striking an imp aside with the flat of his axe, and hunching down into a defensive stance. "Don't die on us, Kalderin," he said grimly as he steeled himself against another wave of demons.

The rogue hurled a handful of flash powder down, vanishing in an instant. He had to act quickly; the fel energies were starting to peak within him, and he knew that they would be gone soon after that. Quickly, he consumed the mana from the curses, charging his energy again, and snuck over to the remaining orc.
Kalderin drew out a leather sap, knocking the warlock in the head, then shuffled over to the male human, drawing the garrote line from his bracer. The cord was around the man's neck in the blink of an eye, and the rogue shuffled backwards with his pseudo-captive, ducking behind the man when the other warlocks began hurling shadow bolts at the younger human.
It couldn't stop the very direct shadowburn, but Kalderin growled and endured, drawing the cord tighter, close enough together to hold the free end in his left hand, forming a loop. The rogue drew his dagger and focused, trying to find a particular emanation on the asphyxiating warlock's body.
The blood elf, now furious, chanted deeply in Thelassian, and cast a fear spell at the whelp child. Images, memories, flooded the boy's vision... but something kept him rooted to his purpose, barely resisting the all-consuming panic, and he found his target. The warlock's soulstone shattered in a single, forceful stab, and the rogue, now satisfied, hurled the human over his shoulder, and down the long drop.

Sun'ri drew his Silithid Ripper and stomped towards the child, invoking a rain of fire as he drew near, and raising his demon armor. The flames poured down, but the boy didn't even flinch, running up to Sun'ri regardless, his main blade still dripping with blood and poison.
The rogue struck first, lashing his right-hand dagger out swiftly, but it bounced off the warlock's hardened skin. The elf smirked and raked his sword across the human's chest, tearing a deep wound open and staggering the young man.
"You bleed," the warlock said in Common, "which means you die, like everything else."
The green lights narrowed in a glare as Kalderin spoke. "You first, bastard," he spat, lunging up with a bare-knuckle punch at the elf's face.
Sun'ri angled his head to avoid the left, but the boy's arm stopped suddenly and bent at the elbow, driving his dagger into the warlock's right shoulder. The human let go of the knife, jamming his hand into a waist pouch and retrieving a set of claws for his left hand instead.
He ducked under another swing from the elf and endured another shadowburn, reaching into his pouch again, and hurling a dose of blind powder at his assailant.

The remaining orc pulled his arm back, ready to blast the human again- but something grabbed his wrist, hard, and wrenched his arm behind his back, nearly breaking it. Before he could turn around to see his attacker, a hand axe bashed him in the temple, sending the warlock sprawling across the grass.
When the spinning stopped, he saw a very irate trolless glaring down at him, charging a lightning bolt in her hands. Another orc, a warrior, charged at the remaining human warlock, nearly knocking her to the ground as well with his momentum.
The tide had turned.

Kalderin barely registered that Fronai and the others had arrived; the fel surge had peaked, and he only had a handful of seconds before the energy left him. Focusing all of his strength into his dagger, he reached up and gouged the elf with his claw, gave him a sinister strike in the waist, then leapt into the air, channeling his latent mana into a demon-slaying move he had developed: the sealing blade.
The sealing blade was something of an accident that had happened once before to the boy. After the... unfortunate turn of events that left him permanently swathed in arcane energy, he slowly began learning how to manipulate them in battle, especially against demons or undead.
The first time he had used that technique, it was a pure fluke: he had, in desperation, poured all of his mana into a single blow, that struck a lesser demon in a major magical channel, or ley line. The blow completely disrupted the flow of arcane energy within the creature, leaving it practically helpless.
Eventually, Kalderin learned to find these ley lines on most things that used arcane magic; warlocks, mages, demons, and undead, and several species of creatures that were imbued with arcane themselves, like the high and blood elves.

The dagger, brimming with raw arcane might, slammed down into the warlock's shoulder, barely missing a major set of nerves and veins. A vibrant, whitish-blue burst of mana spewed out of the wound like blood, dissipating within seconds of reaching the air. The human landed, teetered a bit, and fell to a knee, panting heavily. The elf shouted in pain and anger, and prepared to blast the boy... only to find that he could not feel his mana. It was as if it had been completely erased from his body.
"You... what have you done?!" the elf shreiked in Eredun, raising his blade over his head to strike the human.
Under the stygian darkness that veiled his face, Kalderin smirked as the green fire in his eyes burned out, leaving a weak pair of blue motes. The sword rushed down, but the human summoned up the very last of his body's will to move; he lashed his right leg out from under him, placing his hands on the ground to balance himself as he tripped the enraged warlock.
Rajas saw the fool fall over, and the opening it gave, taking the time to draw his magic, and calling a burst of flames down form the sky, setting all three of the warlocks alight.
"Now, sistah!" he shouted, focusing a set of arcane missiles into his hand.

Shyla head her brother's call, and dropped the fire nova totem at the center of the rune circle. The blood elf struggled to his feet, but the shaman ran over and stomped down on his chest, forcing Sun'ri back down. The warlock only had time to glance madly between the troll and the totem before it exploded, tearing chunks of flesh from his body.
Heavy, mailed steps walked over, and Fronai looked down at the slowly dying elf.
"Fo cryin' ou loud, Fronai," the shaman said with the barest hint of pity in her voice, "jus' let'im die."
The orc nodded and brought the war axe over his head, and spiked it down, executing the warlock. The shaman shook her head sadly, lamenting the loss of life that the warlocks had caused. She glanced over at Kalderin-

-and her eyes shot wide open as she saw the state he was in. The trolless rushed over to him and knelt quickly, already drawing healing energies into her hands.
He was panting heavily, and leaning back on his arms as he sat. Weakly, he reached a hand up to his hood and pulled it down, dispelling the inky darkness over his face. He had burns all over his armor and a few on his face, but he still managed to nod in thanks to the trolless as she concentrated on repairing his wounds.

"Damn, Kalderin," Froani said, looking around. "You don't pull you punches with these guys, huh?"
The human shook his head, still exhausted. "No, I do not," came the quiet, weak reply.
"Ah tink dis' is 'bout all ah can do," Shyla said softly as her healing magic wore off. "We'll need to get'cha bandaged up later, mon." She stood, then looked down at him as he pulled his hood back up. "Can choo stand?"
The human grabbed Sun'ri's corpse by the ankles and dragged it closer, pulling his daggers out. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he said without any assurance. "We will see soon."

"C'mere, Alut," the young hunter said, holding out a piece of meat for his pet. The boar snorted happily as it snatched the flank of bear meat from its master's hand, and eagerly munched. "Yeah, I thought you might be hungry," he said aloud, scratching the pig behind its ears. Ralian looked up at the Horde soldiers, the hunter and the priest, and nodded.
"Don't encourage them, Ralian," the druid said reproachfully.
The younger night elf bit his tongue back. Why not? he thought with no lack of resentment. I've yet to have a sour dealing with them in my life.
He heard movement, someone coming down the hill, and looked up. He was surprised to see the Stranger coming back down, badly wounded but alive, being helped along by the shaman he saw earlier, and the orc who seemed to be leading this segment of soldiers. The leader said something to the two warriors near Ralian, and they nodded, moving away to the other Horde.
"I take it you're leaving, then?" the hunter asked the cowled figure.
"We are," he replied. "I just hope that's the last incident that happens here."

The young hunter nodded. "Me too. This was..." he hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Harrowing, to say the least," the elf finally said.
Kalderin nodded, though the action has barely visible. As Shyla and Fronai helped him along, the hunter looked like he was wanting to say something, but unsure of what. "Yeah?" the boy asked, turning to face the kal'dorei. This meant having to let go of Fronai's shoulder, but the rogue felt that he could still stand with only the shaman holding him.
"May I be so bold as to ask your name?" the hunter told him. Fronai and Rajas moved off to gather the troops.
Under his hood, the human smirked. "My name's irrelevant, friend," he said. "If you've any luck, you won't see me again."
"I beg to differ," the druid at his side growled.

Kalderin tensed up. Whatever the other elf had said had agitated the human, and one thing Shyla hated was being left out. Deftly, she grabbed one of her tongues potions and downed the vial's contents. Ah don' like dis, she thought.
"Really?" the rogue asked flatly, the human's language making perfect sense to her now. Kalderin shifted his weight, briefly placing it on her left shoulder while he switched legs. "And why would that be?"
"I don't see why someone like you would care for the well being of the kal'dorei," the druid shot back with a pointed glare.
She looked back at Kalderin, visually following the conversation. "I probably hate demons as much as any of you night elves," he replied. "And I have some pretty personal reasons."
"Then why do you reek of their taint?"

The Stranger's eye-lights dropped into a full glare. "You could never hope to understand," he growled.
Ralian wasn't sure if this person was a human, orc, or something else entirely. He did have a thick arcane aura surrounding him, but it was much like one that a mage would carry. Well, maybe it was a little different from theirs, but still...
"You don't think I could understand?" the druid said, laughing. "What could you possibly think is above me?"
The Stranger's glare deepened as he waited for the other elf to stop chuckling. "Because you're a close-minded bigot," he spat, rooting the druid to the spot in surprise, "and could never fathom the multitude of purposes for risking your life of anyone other than a kal'dorei."

He tilted his head at the now-furious druid. "I'll bet you follow Fandral's teachings, don't you?" he asked with a light tone.
"I do," came the response, seething with anger.
"Ah," Kalderin said, nodding. "That explains it."
The night elf was almost at his breaking point. "Explains what, you insolent wretch?"
"Why you're so contemptuous of anyone not of your race," the rogue said simply. "Or anyone who won't listen to you, for that matter. An isolationist to the core."
"Everything was fine until the humans decided to show themselves on our shores!" the druid shouted.

The Stranger looked at the trolless and shook his head, then told her something in Orcish. "If you absolutely must have a name to put with me," he told them, "call me... Kali."
Ralian saw the Horde's soldiers preparing to leave, and the leader orc shouted something over at the two figures. The shaman patted the Stranger on the shoulder, and he nodded.
"Where do you think you're going?!" the druid growled.
To Ralian's surprise, it was the trolless who turned around. "Splintahtree," she told him. "De wedah's real nice dis time'ah year, mon."
The druid was struck dumb, but Ralian saw her hold up an empty vial and wink. Tongues, the hunter thought to himself.

The soldiers moved at a leisurely pace back to Splintertree, from equal parts weary bodies and wounds. Shyla was telling Rajas and Fronai about the conversation with the two elves, but Kalderin really wasn't paying attention. His body was moving on its own, really; the human was too burnt out to will himself to do anything.
That surge took too much out of me, he thought. They usually don't leave me this wasted. Maybe I was too close to that summoning circle.
Shyla was shaking him gently. "Hmm?" he murmured, turning to the shaman.
"Choo allrigh, mon?" she asked quietly. Wether or not he would admit it, the rogue was glad that Shyla trusted him.
"Yes, I am fine," he told her, "just lost in thinking. My body is working without my mind."

When they finally arrived at Splintertree, Fronai told the others to go ahead to Crossroads. Kalderin paid the handful of coins and mounted the wyvern, albeit a little unsteadily. The flight, combined with the rosy hue of the setting sun, was almost therapeutic to the human, and he was somewhat reluctant to get off the riding harness, but he did, and shuffled over to the Inn, pulling down his hood and mask as he trudged inside.
The Inkeeper, Boorand, saw him instantly. It was a rare quiet day in Crossroads, and most of the adventurers had gone off already, in search of fame, fortune, and a possibly painful death. While Inkeeper Plainswind wasn't too terribly fond of the idea of a human staying with the Horde, young Kalderin was, if nothing else, cordial and polite more often than not... even if he was pretty reclusive.
"Good evening, young one," the tauren said to the stumbling rogue. "What brings you here tonight, of all nights?"
Amazingly, the boy smirked. "Just trying to walk off a few wounds, so, nothing much, I suppose," he said lightly. The human was in an unusually garrulous mood, it seemed.
"Well, you are aware that rooms are not free, yes?" the Inkeeper asked.
The young man fished a pair of silver pieces out of his pocket. "I was almost hoping you would forget," he joked as he handed the money over.
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Ymir: Well, this one's longer than the rest, I think. I hope it won't bore and/or lose you. I'll try my best not to dissapoint.

Nova Alexandria: This one is a little tricky at times, but I don't think it's too terribly wonky.

Viva_Rose: Well, for what it's worth, I got started on Ultima Online and never touched EQ. I'm glad you like it!