WoW - Character Background
Not sure anyone wants to read this, or (if not a wow-player) will even get it, so behind the cut is:
Rokhul Stormchild
In the time after Durnholde was destroyed and the Shadow Council fell, the Orcish Horde, after being shaken from their lethargy and discovering the tastes of freedom once more, were united for the first time under Thrall and travelling swiftly throughout Azeoroth, seeking out those who had consorted with demons and betraying the orcs.
The Stormreaver clan were one of those who stood against the growing Horde. Loving the temptations that the Shadow Council had offered them, which continued to be offered by the demons they bargained with and the freedom to act on the bloodlusts that came with it, they continued to practice their magics, summoning demons and drinking their blood to infuse them with power.
It was during this time a female orc of the Stomreaver clan, one in a small group who had split from the rememnants of the clan believing that there was less chance of being caught if they moved in smaller numbers, had to stop the group of her clan as her waters broke. A meagre camp was set up, not daring to light a fire. Labour was swift and a female orc child was brought into Azeoroth. Thin and scrawny she was immediately seen as a weakling amongst the orcs and, despite the clan being reduced in number and scattered across the land, she was abandoned to the elements and left behind in disgust. Her shamed parents and their companions moved with haste, but the combined forces of their magic and the demons that they summoned to protect was not sufficient to prevent the new Horde forces from hunting them down and destroying them less than an hour later. Trying to find evidence of any other groups that this small band of warlocks may have met with, the Horde warriors retraced the Stormreavers’ steps. It was not long before one of the frost wolves came back to their orc companion carrying a small bundle of cloth.
Gelrek, a proud shaman of the Frostwolf clan, one of the first to be accepted by the elements after Thrall, took the rags from the jaws of his wolf, who looked up at him, pleading with him. Confuse as to why his wolf would be so concerned with a bundle of cloth, he noted the slight weight to it and unwrapping it, he was stunned to see the tiny form or a newborn female orc, cool and lifeless roll out of the rags and onto his wide outstretched hand. The wolf, who was known to Gelrek as Snowstorm, gently nudged his hand, snorting his warm breath onto the babe. A slight shiver wracked through the body and it was still again. Nudging him once again, with more urgency, Snowstorm looked up at him and he knew that his wolf could still sense some life within the babe and was obviously charging him with her safety. He knew that there was small chance that the child would survive, but as Snowstorm seemed to be insistent, he saw no other choice than to take her with him. Wrapping her up within his cloaks, he swiftly returned back to his clan’s campsite surrounded by caves in the mountainous Alterec regions.
By the time he returned, he could see the colour starting to return to the child, but she was still unconscious. Snowstorm once again nudged the hand that held the child and as Gelrek held the child out to his wolf, gentle jaws wrapped around her and he moved to the back of the cave where his mate Flurryfeet was curled up around her first litter of pups. Placing the child gently within the wriggling mass of puppies, Snowstorm licked the face of his mate, showing the love and respect that he had for the she-wolf that had brought his offspring into the world. Flurryfeet ignored her mate as she turned her attention to the new pup that he had brought home. Furless, she wasn’t like the other pups and Flurryfeet set about washing the child and warming her up. As the other pups fed and squirmed around her, and the she-wolf attended to cleaning her, the young orc warmed quickly and soon started to stir as the scent of warm milk penetrated the darkness of the unconscious mind and the orc child was nuzzled towards a teat by her new mother. Still semi-unconscious, with the first instincts of life only just starting to emerge, tiny hands gripped the fur around the teat and the young orc-child suckled, tasting milk for the first time.
Over the next few months, Gelrek continued to hunt with Snowstorm leaving the child in the care of the clan who looked after the camp and her wolf-mother. During this time Gelrek named her Rokhul Stormchild, her first name meaning “difficult beginnings” and her second name being twofold from the Shadowreaver clan that she was born to and Snowstorm, his wolf, who had brought her into his life. The women of the clan were amused by Gelrek’s new predicament, but as they were warriors and hunters, they had not brought their children with them, so none were in a position to wet-nurse. Despite some comments at first from members of the clan that the child should have been left to die as it would never grow to be a true orc warrior, as the child gathered strength they soon relented and could not think of a safer place for the child to grow and develop while they were still hunting down the warlocks and necrolytes that were on the run. As with her other pups, Flurryfeet soon started to wean them onto solid foods, allowing them the easiest bites from the fresh kills that her mate brought home. She soon realised that Rokhul continued to feed from her rather than eat the solid flesh that her pups could tear into, but would suck on the blooded meat and so nudged the juicer lumps towards her devouring the flesh after the child finished suckling.
As time passed, Gelrek soon started to prepare softened food for her and she was brought to sit on his knee as the clan gathered around the fire for meals. She was a quick learner and soon picked up simple words like food and drink, but could not settle anywhere to sleep except with her wolf-mother.
Once she was old enough, Rokhul learned to hunt for herself and fend for herself whilst the hunters and warriors were away and as she grew into a long-limbed child, she knew not to explore too far away from the camp and busied herself by being useful around the camp. She found she had a talent for crafting items out of the scraps of cloth that they brought home as spoils of war and was able to rip damaged items apart and reapply the residue left behind to enchant new armour to improve it. These skills came very naturally to her after being shown only a couple of times by the women and men who looked after the camp.
Gelrek continued to look after her as much as a father in wartime could and she loved him dearly. He taught her all he could about the Horde and Thrall, but never told her about her history. She was simply told that her mother had died shortly after she was born and was left to believe that Gelrek was her blood father.
As time passed, she watched in devastation as Snowstorm and Flurryfeet got slowly older and she wept for days at a time when they eventually passed away, with only the comfort of Gelrek and her wolfish brothers and sisters to remind her that their legacy ran on through the tribe. Pups from many of their litters chose orc-companions as they needed to and one who had named himself Shadowpaw had attached himself to her, despite her not actually being born by blood into the Frostwolf Clan.
A competent hunter, but still not as skilled as the rest of the Tribe, Rokhul was nearing her thirteenth year when the clan returned to the rest of the Horde. By this time, Thrall had lead most of his clan to another continent and they had started to build a city in the newly named Durotar. After arriving, Rokhul was amazed at the size of the city. It was still in its infancy and over then next few years she watched it grow around her. As she grew into a young woman in the city of Orgrimmar, Rokhul was fascinated to learn of the shamanistic magics such as those that her father and Thrall wielded and expressed a wish to study with the elements. She was taught about them and studied hard, but when she came to request that the elements work with her, she was continuously refused by them. Determined to continue through this route she reapplied to the elements again and again, but they never changed their responses. What she did not understand was that the elements could see within her the potential to misuse their magics and to doom herself in the way that the Shadow Council had doomed so many orcs before.
But after each refusal, she would never stay upset for long. There were trolls who brought other magics to the city and she liked to watch them juggle flame and ice. Rokhul requested to be trained and started the difficult route to become a mage. Still not setting aside her original dreams to become a shaman, she worked hard in both aspects and continued to apply to the elements to study Shamanism at the same time as studying her mage tricks.
As her mage training progressed, she soon was able to summon a small flame that she could get to dance before her, but she controlled it under protest, a battle of wills between herself and the element, rather than working with the element as an equal as she had originally wished to, but gradually her control became stronger and she dominated the element. From this point she realised there was no turning back. She knew that the elements would never work in harmony with her now, but she was in control and she liked it. Continuing on the path of flame, she abandoned her dreams of becoming a shaman. She was then but 16.
It was about this time that a stranger came to Orgrimmar. Shrouded in shadow, he didn’t talk to many people, but only seemed to appear at night. By this time Rokhul was entertaining people with her fire tricks most evenings in the local tavern. That night changed her life. It was late in the tavern and she was nearing the end of her act when she spotted him. It seemed like a trick of the shadows at the time, she saw him only out of the corner of her eye and thought she heard a brief whisper, like wind passing through the trees… “Stormreaver” it whispered. She swiftly turned towards the voice but the corner she thought she had spotted him in held nothing but the deepest shadow. But from that night on she dreamed of strong companions that were darker than the deepest shadow and dancing sprites made from flame brighter than anything that the simple mages of the Sen’jin could offer her.
In the dreams she learnt how to manipulate shadow in the same way that during the day she manipulated flame, but when she woke in the middle of the night, she found that the skills that her dreams taught her remained true to her and she continued this dark training as she slept. She told no-one about this, not even Gelrek, as she could see that there was something unworldly about her dreams teaching her. The voice in the dreams taught her patiently and corrected her when she was going to make mistakes and if she did make a mistake, it was still only a dream where the consequences took place. She only practiced alone and was soon able to command shadows with more ease than the elements of her mage training. It was when her dreams started to show her how to summon a flame-imp that she began to realise that she was walking the path towards being a warlock and she was terrified as she knew that those who summoned demons were the same people that Gelrek and the Horde had hunted down all the time they had been travelling with the clan as she’d grown up.
Within the dreams she continued to practice and she summoned imps, walkers and other fel-beasts, but she never did this during her waking hours. What if she should lose control? What if Gelrek found out? She could imagine the disappointment on his face already. What if he would then have to kill her?
A year later, to the day, the stranger returned to Orgrimmar. She saw him once again in the tavern and as she moved her glance towards him, this time he did not fade into shadows. She saw the red glow in his eyes and knew that this was a sign of someone tainted by fel-magic, the magic that came from drinking the blood of a demon or from being close to one who had. He watched her carefully and she cut her fire act short that night leaving the tavern shortly after and walking slowly through the centre of the city. Sure enough, she felt those red eyes watching her. She walked towards the quieter areas of the city and sat down by a lake with Shadowpaw next to her and waited. Silently a figure sat to her other side. Shadowpaw gave a warning grumble deep in his throat, but a gentle touch of Rokhul’s hand stilled him and he was quiet once again.
“Who are you and why are you following me?” She asked quietly, looking across the water of the lake.
“The question should perhaps be ‘Who are you?’” The voice from her dreams replied.
As she whipped her head round quickly to look at the stranger, she found herself once again looking at a patch of shadow. This time though, there was a whisper that seemed to echo around her. “Stormreaver” it said, “Stormreaver”, gradually growing so faint that she wasn’t sure if she had imagined the whole encounter.
As she returned home, she dared not sleep. She didn’t want to know that the voice in her dreams was actually real. She didn’t want to know if the summoning spells she knew in her mind were really able to summon a demon from the void. She just wished that she had continued her training and worked hard enough for the elements to finally accept her as a shaman… But she knew they never would now. Not after she had forced them time and time again, binding to her will, to dance and spin, flicker and twirl, just for the entertainment of the locals in the tavern. Additionally, now, she was tainted by using shadow magic. And they would know.
She finally cried herself to sleep that night, sobbing into Shadowpaw’s long fur. She slept fitfully, but did not dream. She awoke in the very early morning, still tired and upset she decided she wanted to go for a swim. She got dressed and went outside the city to the shore of Durotar where a cave shaped like an orc-skull stood watching over the crashing waves. No-one was around and so she stripped naked and waded into the cold and refreshing water. She washed quickly and was returning to shore when she realised she was not alone. A red-skinned male orc was watching her. Wearing nothing more than a waist-cloth, she could see bone-like protrusions in his arms and face. An orc touched by Fel magic. One who had drunk the blood of a demon. He started towards her, a slow and meaningful smile growing on his face and she was suddenly very aware that she was still naked from her swim. Shadowpaw was growling quietly, but the male orc just ignored him, this mere pup wouldn’t keep him from his prize. He knew his strengths and was confident that this young female would be his. Shadowpaw leapt aiming for his throat, a hunting pounce going for the kill, but the powerful orc just grabbed him mid-flight and threw him aside. He landed badly and the wimper that he started was cut off as he was dashed against the nearby rocks. Fear petrified Rokhul. Her muscles locked up, the concept of running or moving at all made her dizzy as nausea racked through her body. She was terrified for herself, knowing what must be on the mind of this brutal and fel-tainted being, yet as she stood there, unable to run, a fury grew inside her. Partly angry at herself for being unable to move she silently grew even more enraged as she looked between the murderous and determined beast who was coming towards her and her beloved companion who was now lying, unmoving so carelessly cast aside.
Unbidden the words of a spell wound their way from her mind. She stood there naked on the shores of Durotar and she found herself summoning a void-walker from the twisting nether. There was no question about it, it was under her command from the first syllable she uttered and she knew the incant so well that she knew there was no chance she could get it wrong. It burst forth into the world and was on the male orc before it knew what was even happening. The confident grin changed swiftly to a look of panic as the nether-beast flew towards him and he was dead before he could take another step towards her. She ran over to Shadowpaw, but there was nothing she could do. He had died as he had hit the rock. Her vision distorted slightly as tears welled in her eyes, but she dressed herself swiftly and collected the body of her wolf-brother. Walking back towards the town she kept the demon with her until she came in sight of the gates and knew she would be safe. Quietly she expressed the words of dismissal and the shadow-beast was returned to the nether as swiftly as it had appeared. Looking at the empty space that it left, her stomach wrenched as she realised that she’d protected herself from the fel-tainted male using the very magics that had tempted it to power in the first place. Swearing an oath to herself as she stood there holding the body of her companion, she vowed that she would never let the magics tempt her and she would always be the one in control, but at the same time, she knew she would never be the same...
Rokhul Stormchild
In the time after Durnholde was destroyed and the Shadow Council fell, the Orcish Horde, after being shaken from their lethargy and discovering the tastes of freedom once more, were united for the first time under Thrall and travelling swiftly throughout Azeoroth, seeking out those who had consorted with demons and betraying the orcs.
The Stormreaver clan were one of those who stood against the growing Horde. Loving the temptations that the Shadow Council had offered them, which continued to be offered by the demons they bargained with and the freedom to act on the bloodlusts that came with it, they continued to practice their magics, summoning demons and drinking their blood to infuse them with power.
It was during this time a female orc of the Stomreaver clan, one in a small group who had split from the rememnants of the clan believing that there was less chance of being caught if they moved in smaller numbers, had to stop the group of her clan as her waters broke. A meagre camp was set up, not daring to light a fire. Labour was swift and a female orc child was brought into Azeoroth. Thin and scrawny she was immediately seen as a weakling amongst the orcs and, despite the clan being reduced in number and scattered across the land, she was abandoned to the elements and left behind in disgust. Her shamed parents and their companions moved with haste, but the combined forces of their magic and the demons that they summoned to protect was not sufficient to prevent the new Horde forces from hunting them down and destroying them less than an hour later. Trying to find evidence of any other groups that this small band of warlocks may have met with, the Horde warriors retraced the Stormreavers’ steps. It was not long before one of the frost wolves came back to their orc companion carrying a small bundle of cloth.
Gelrek, a proud shaman of the Frostwolf clan, one of the first to be accepted by the elements after Thrall, took the rags from the jaws of his wolf, who looked up at him, pleading with him. Confuse as to why his wolf would be so concerned with a bundle of cloth, he noted the slight weight to it and unwrapping it, he was stunned to see the tiny form or a newborn female orc, cool and lifeless roll out of the rags and onto his wide outstretched hand. The wolf, who was known to Gelrek as Snowstorm, gently nudged his hand, snorting his warm breath onto the babe. A slight shiver wracked through the body and it was still again. Nudging him once again, with more urgency, Snowstorm looked up at him and he knew that his wolf could still sense some life within the babe and was obviously charging him with her safety. He knew that there was small chance that the child would survive, but as Snowstorm seemed to be insistent, he saw no other choice than to take her with him. Wrapping her up within his cloaks, he swiftly returned back to his clan’s campsite surrounded by caves in the mountainous Alterec regions.
By the time he returned, he could see the colour starting to return to the child, but she was still unconscious. Snowstorm once again nudged the hand that held the child and as Gelrek held the child out to his wolf, gentle jaws wrapped around her and he moved to the back of the cave where his mate Flurryfeet was curled up around her first litter of pups. Placing the child gently within the wriggling mass of puppies, Snowstorm licked the face of his mate, showing the love and respect that he had for the she-wolf that had brought his offspring into the world. Flurryfeet ignored her mate as she turned her attention to the new pup that he had brought home. Furless, she wasn’t like the other pups and Flurryfeet set about washing the child and warming her up. As the other pups fed and squirmed around her, and the she-wolf attended to cleaning her, the young orc warmed quickly and soon started to stir as the scent of warm milk penetrated the darkness of the unconscious mind and the orc child was nuzzled towards a teat by her new mother. Still semi-unconscious, with the first instincts of life only just starting to emerge, tiny hands gripped the fur around the teat and the young orc-child suckled, tasting milk for the first time.
Over the next few months, Gelrek continued to hunt with Snowstorm leaving the child in the care of the clan who looked after the camp and her wolf-mother. During this time Gelrek named her Rokhul Stormchild, her first name meaning “difficult beginnings” and her second name being twofold from the Shadowreaver clan that she was born to and Snowstorm, his wolf, who had brought her into his life. The women of the clan were amused by Gelrek’s new predicament, but as they were warriors and hunters, they had not brought their children with them, so none were in a position to wet-nurse. Despite some comments at first from members of the clan that the child should have been left to die as it would never grow to be a true orc warrior, as the child gathered strength they soon relented and could not think of a safer place for the child to grow and develop while they were still hunting down the warlocks and necrolytes that were on the run. As with her other pups, Flurryfeet soon started to wean them onto solid foods, allowing them the easiest bites from the fresh kills that her mate brought home. She soon realised that Rokhul continued to feed from her rather than eat the solid flesh that her pups could tear into, but would suck on the blooded meat and so nudged the juicer lumps towards her devouring the flesh after the child finished suckling.
As time passed, Gelrek soon started to prepare softened food for her and she was brought to sit on his knee as the clan gathered around the fire for meals. She was a quick learner and soon picked up simple words like food and drink, but could not settle anywhere to sleep except with her wolf-mother.
Once she was old enough, Rokhul learned to hunt for herself and fend for herself whilst the hunters and warriors were away and as she grew into a long-limbed child, she knew not to explore too far away from the camp and busied herself by being useful around the camp. She found she had a talent for crafting items out of the scraps of cloth that they brought home as spoils of war and was able to rip damaged items apart and reapply the residue left behind to enchant new armour to improve it. These skills came very naturally to her after being shown only a couple of times by the women and men who looked after the camp.
Gelrek continued to look after her as much as a father in wartime could and she loved him dearly. He taught her all he could about the Horde and Thrall, but never told her about her history. She was simply told that her mother had died shortly after she was born and was left to believe that Gelrek was her blood father.
As time passed, she watched in devastation as Snowstorm and Flurryfeet got slowly older and she wept for days at a time when they eventually passed away, with only the comfort of Gelrek and her wolfish brothers and sisters to remind her that their legacy ran on through the tribe. Pups from many of their litters chose orc-companions as they needed to and one who had named himself Shadowpaw had attached himself to her, despite her not actually being born by blood into the Frostwolf Clan.
A competent hunter, but still not as skilled as the rest of the Tribe, Rokhul was nearing her thirteenth year when the clan returned to the rest of the Horde. By this time, Thrall had lead most of his clan to another continent and they had started to build a city in the newly named Durotar. After arriving, Rokhul was amazed at the size of the city. It was still in its infancy and over then next few years she watched it grow around her. As she grew into a young woman in the city of Orgrimmar, Rokhul was fascinated to learn of the shamanistic magics such as those that her father and Thrall wielded and expressed a wish to study with the elements. She was taught about them and studied hard, but when she came to request that the elements work with her, she was continuously refused by them. Determined to continue through this route she reapplied to the elements again and again, but they never changed their responses. What she did not understand was that the elements could see within her the potential to misuse their magics and to doom herself in the way that the Shadow Council had doomed so many orcs before.
But after each refusal, she would never stay upset for long. There were trolls who brought other magics to the city and she liked to watch them juggle flame and ice. Rokhul requested to be trained and started the difficult route to become a mage. Still not setting aside her original dreams to become a shaman, she worked hard in both aspects and continued to apply to the elements to study Shamanism at the same time as studying her mage tricks.
As her mage training progressed, she soon was able to summon a small flame that she could get to dance before her, but she controlled it under protest, a battle of wills between herself and the element, rather than working with the element as an equal as she had originally wished to, but gradually her control became stronger and she dominated the element. From this point she realised there was no turning back. She knew that the elements would never work in harmony with her now, but she was in control and she liked it. Continuing on the path of flame, she abandoned her dreams of becoming a shaman. She was then but 16.
It was about this time that a stranger came to Orgrimmar. Shrouded in shadow, he didn’t talk to many people, but only seemed to appear at night. By this time Rokhul was entertaining people with her fire tricks most evenings in the local tavern. That night changed her life. It was late in the tavern and she was nearing the end of her act when she spotted him. It seemed like a trick of the shadows at the time, she saw him only out of the corner of her eye and thought she heard a brief whisper, like wind passing through the trees… “Stormreaver” it whispered. She swiftly turned towards the voice but the corner she thought she had spotted him in held nothing but the deepest shadow. But from that night on she dreamed of strong companions that were darker than the deepest shadow and dancing sprites made from flame brighter than anything that the simple mages of the Sen’jin could offer her.
In the dreams she learnt how to manipulate shadow in the same way that during the day she manipulated flame, but when she woke in the middle of the night, she found that the skills that her dreams taught her remained true to her and she continued this dark training as she slept. She told no-one about this, not even Gelrek, as she could see that there was something unworldly about her dreams teaching her. The voice in the dreams taught her patiently and corrected her when she was going to make mistakes and if she did make a mistake, it was still only a dream where the consequences took place. She only practiced alone and was soon able to command shadows with more ease than the elements of her mage training. It was when her dreams started to show her how to summon a flame-imp that she began to realise that she was walking the path towards being a warlock and she was terrified as she knew that those who summoned demons were the same people that Gelrek and the Horde had hunted down all the time they had been travelling with the clan as she’d grown up.
Within the dreams she continued to practice and she summoned imps, walkers and other fel-beasts, but she never did this during her waking hours. What if she should lose control? What if Gelrek found out? She could imagine the disappointment on his face already. What if he would then have to kill her?
A year later, to the day, the stranger returned to Orgrimmar. She saw him once again in the tavern and as she moved her glance towards him, this time he did not fade into shadows. She saw the red glow in his eyes and knew that this was a sign of someone tainted by fel-magic, the magic that came from drinking the blood of a demon or from being close to one who had. He watched her carefully and she cut her fire act short that night leaving the tavern shortly after and walking slowly through the centre of the city. Sure enough, she felt those red eyes watching her. She walked towards the quieter areas of the city and sat down by a lake with Shadowpaw next to her and waited. Silently a figure sat to her other side. Shadowpaw gave a warning grumble deep in his throat, but a gentle touch of Rokhul’s hand stilled him and he was quiet once again.
“Who are you and why are you following me?” She asked quietly, looking across the water of the lake.
“The question should perhaps be ‘Who are you?’” The voice from her dreams replied.
As she whipped her head round quickly to look at the stranger, she found herself once again looking at a patch of shadow. This time though, there was a whisper that seemed to echo around her. “Stormreaver” it said, “Stormreaver”, gradually growing so faint that she wasn’t sure if she had imagined the whole encounter.
As she returned home, she dared not sleep. She didn’t want to know that the voice in her dreams was actually real. She didn’t want to know if the summoning spells she knew in her mind were really able to summon a demon from the void. She just wished that she had continued her training and worked hard enough for the elements to finally accept her as a shaman… But she knew they never would now. Not after she had forced them time and time again, binding to her will, to dance and spin, flicker and twirl, just for the entertainment of the locals in the tavern. Additionally, now, she was tainted by using shadow magic. And they would know.
She finally cried herself to sleep that night, sobbing into Shadowpaw’s long fur. She slept fitfully, but did not dream. She awoke in the very early morning, still tired and upset she decided she wanted to go for a swim. She got dressed and went outside the city to the shore of Durotar where a cave shaped like an orc-skull stood watching over the crashing waves. No-one was around and so she stripped naked and waded into the cold and refreshing water. She washed quickly and was returning to shore when she realised she was not alone. A red-skinned male orc was watching her. Wearing nothing more than a waist-cloth, she could see bone-like protrusions in his arms and face. An orc touched by Fel magic. One who had drunk the blood of a demon. He started towards her, a slow and meaningful smile growing on his face and she was suddenly very aware that she was still naked from her swim. Shadowpaw was growling quietly, but the male orc just ignored him, this mere pup wouldn’t keep him from his prize. He knew his strengths and was confident that this young female would be his. Shadowpaw leapt aiming for his throat, a hunting pounce going for the kill, but the powerful orc just grabbed him mid-flight and threw him aside. He landed badly and the wimper that he started was cut off as he was dashed against the nearby rocks. Fear petrified Rokhul. Her muscles locked up, the concept of running or moving at all made her dizzy as nausea racked through her body. She was terrified for herself, knowing what must be on the mind of this brutal and fel-tainted being, yet as she stood there, unable to run, a fury grew inside her. Partly angry at herself for being unable to move she silently grew even more enraged as she looked between the murderous and determined beast who was coming towards her and her beloved companion who was now lying, unmoving so carelessly cast aside.
Unbidden the words of a spell wound their way from her mind. She stood there naked on the shores of Durotar and she found herself summoning a void-walker from the twisting nether. There was no question about it, it was under her command from the first syllable she uttered and she knew the incant so well that she knew there was no chance she could get it wrong. It burst forth into the world and was on the male orc before it knew what was even happening. The confident grin changed swiftly to a look of panic as the nether-beast flew towards him and he was dead before he could take another step towards her. She ran over to Shadowpaw, but there was nothing she could do. He had died as he had hit the rock. Her vision distorted slightly as tears welled in her eyes, but she dressed herself swiftly and collected the body of her wolf-brother. Walking back towards the town she kept the demon with her until she came in sight of the gates and knew she would be safe. Quietly she expressed the words of dismissal and the shadow-beast was returned to the nether as swiftly as it had appeared. Looking at the empty space that it left, her stomach wrenched as she realised that she’d protected herself from the fel-tainted male using the very magics that had tempted it to power in the first place. Swearing an oath to herself as she stood there holding the body of her companion, she vowed that she would never let the magics tempt her and she would always be the one in control, but at the same time, she knew she would never be the same...