#aelirin

Theme song: The Chain Warden

SatheairBloodshadow awoke with a start; his breathing labored as he searched for his lost breath now that he had been freed from his unconscious prison. His azure hues scanned the surrounding area, but his vision was blurred, making the task impossible. Confused, he knew something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t quite place it. As his senses began to return, Satheair became more aware of his surroundings; blinking a few times, his eyes finally becoming accustomed to the dim lighting. As he looked around, the first thing he’d notice was that the room was a lot smaller than he had originally thought. Lit by a single torch at the far side, it gave off just enough light for him to make out the room’s structure. Damp, stone walls lined its outer edges with a dirt covered floor as its base. His sense of feeling soon returned to him—his mind still spinning in its daze-- Satheair felt something foreign against his wrists. Cold and rough, whatever it was, it caused him discomfort. It took him a few moments to realize that his arms had been raised above his head and off to either side; rusted metal shackles holding them in place against the stone wall. A wave of panic washed over him as he began to struggle against his bindings. Why am I here? -How- did I get here? What had happened during the battle? Why can’t I remember..? These were the questions that flashed through his mind.

He continued his frantic struggle until he heard a faint whistle sound off. Pausing, he listened for a moment before the large iron door that stood across from him clicked three times before it slowly began to open; its rusted hinges wailing. A dark figure slowly began to close the distance that lied between them; that single torch in his hand. Satheair narrowed his eyes as the unknown figure began to wave the brightly lit torch close to his face; head turning away from it as the sudden change burned his sight. A malicious chuckle ran through his ears. Was he… Laughing?

“Well! Look who’s awake. Good morning to you, Lightbearer. We have such an eventful day ahead of us.” Satheair turned his attention back to the dark figure. Suddenly, his eyes widened at the realization of what was going on. Everything made sense to him now… He remembered fighting back the Scourge that threated Silvermoon with his comrades. He remembered hearing his best friend and brother, Aelirin calling for him as he was quickly overwhelmed by their numbers, only to blackout soon after that. Straining himself against his shackles, Satheair was about to comment back to his captor, and just as he started to speak, a sudden, sharp pain cut into him from deep in his throat.; eyes widening before he’d cough roughly, which only made things worse on his end. Easing up on his bindings, head lowering, Satheair groaned quietly. Why can’t I speak..? Another round of cackling rang through his ears,

“Enjoying the muzzle, are we? We decided to fit you with one of our… Specialties.” Satheair sneered as the being traced his skeletal hand along his face, moving it slowly across his cheek, up his jaw and over the metal strap that held the muzzle in place before finally resting it against the side of his face, “Let me tell you how it works, darling…” Blood red eyes locked onto Satheair’s as the tormentor leaned himself closer; his bone fingers gently caressing the Elf’s scalp, thumb slowly stroking along his cheek, “You see, my dear friend, this particular muzzle is a rather simple item, only made up of three basic parts. First off…” His index finger tapped against the metal strap, “There is this strap, to hold it in place—but that was pretty obvious. Next we have…” the hand that rested against his face tightened its grip, holding his head in place while the other moved to tug rather roughly on the muzzle.

Satheair winced as that same agonizing pain erupted from deep in his throat again, this time, something else also stung against the underside of his tongue, “This small spiked ball that was put beneath your tongue, along with two thin barbed straps that we shoved down your throat while you were unconscious.” A cruel smile slowly crept onto the torturer’s face as he spoke again with that same bone chilling, echoing tone that his kind shared, sending shivers down Satheair’s spine; rotted teeth flashing in the dim lighting, “If at any time the wearer were to say.. Swallow or try to speak, the barbed spikes will slice at their throat and the underside of their tongue.” The foul creature gave his cheek one last rough squeeze before removing his hand. The sound of metal against metal was heard, as a flash of silver made itself known. Before Satheair had a chance to wrap around everything that was happening, the dark figure swiftly brought the pommel of the sword down against his temple. A loud ring echoed through the Elf’s head, his eyes filling with a flash of white light as he felt his body slowly falling. Dazed now, he struggled to against the bindings—which were the only thing holding him up, “I’ll be back for you in a short while, Lightbearer… Just listen for the whistle.” Satheair watched as the large iron door slowly closed, sealing his fate. They will not break me; his vision a blur before he was once again overcome by the darkness.

Quite some time had passed since Satheair was first brought to his own personal living hell; by this point, all of his gear had been stripped from his figure, save his plated leggings. How much time he had spent in the small room he now called his home was unknown to him. His near lifeless body now hung from chains by his throbbing, raw and bleeding wrists. Both of his legs had been broken repeatedly so that his wrists were the only things to support his weight. Unrelenting pain coursed through his body, merciless knives that shredded every part of him… The pain was unbearable and caused him to keep drifting in and out of consciousness. How long has it been, he wondered. There were no windows in his room, so it was impossible to keep track of the hours, let alone the days. Why hasn’t someone come… Please, just kill me… End my suffering... For the love of the gods, please, have some compassion!

Satheair did his best to force his swollen eyes open, looking down at his battered and broken body. Bone deep gashes, bruises, welts and burns covered his torso and back, it was a wonder that he was still breathing with the severity of his wounds. While they may have broken his body, Satheair’s will had been far from broken, so much so that the minions of the Scourge had made their own game out of trying to see who could break him first, but Sath never gave in. His will to live was greater than any pain that they had managed to dish out to him, and they sure tried. They had tried everything, from using various poisons, starvation, electric shock, simply flaying his flesh with claws and blades, breaking bones, multiple lashings and when they thought he might die before they had broken him, he was soon revived by varying amounts of blight that they would toss onto him, searing away his skin. The thing that kept him going were the thoughts of the two most important people to him, Aelirin and Norilain Nightbane; the three had been the closest of friends since they were children. They were his family, and as he sat in the damp room, all he was able to think about were them, thinking and hopping that they would come to find him—or so he once thought.

After his latest round of punishment, Satheair had finally come to his end. He couldn’t take such things anymore, mentally or physically. His body shaking from the pain he felt; a pool of blood—both dried and fresh-- sat beneath his feet. Cursing quietly to himself, he had wished that the fever he suffered from, or at least his festering wounds throughout his body would have shown him the mercy of taking his life. Moments later, Satheair once again returned to his unconscious state.

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(Special thanks and credit for this section goes to Mr. aelirin-nightbane <3 Give ‘em a follow.)

Aelirin fired another arrow right into the skull of another ghoul, "Keep it up!" the elves held the line for several moments before the scourge advanced forward. This took many lives as the Sin'dorei were soon swallowed by the mass of walking corpses.

"Fall back!" The order rang across the battlefield. Aelirin would begin to retreat, but as his eyes scanned the line of battle, he would see his friend and brother, Satheair, being swallowed into the scourges massive force. Without thinking, he would charge into the scourge firing arrows left and right, cracking skulls with his bow as he made his way to Satheair. After he had swung his bow at a ghoul – who of which had a particularly hard head-- his bow would splinter and fall apart. Without a weapon or a plan, he was forced to retreat; the whole while Satheair was being dragged away by the scourge.

Later that night, Aelirin would sneak from his resting place with nothing but his trench knives and a stupid plan; he began to follow the scourge's warpath back to where their base of operations lied. After about an hour, he was hit by the putrid stench of death as the base came into view, this being as far as his plan had gone in his mind he began to improvise.

There were no sentries on the walls of the base making for an easy entrance, though once inside he noticed that there were several patrol teams going through, leaving him with only the option to find the place with the least attention and stay there to observer their routes. Several hours later, after many close calls and assassinated scourge, he had found his spot; a quiet little corner that was not on any of the patrol paths. He spent the next few days observing their patrol paths and where they dragged in new prisoners. All of these prisoners were taken into a building marked by the screams of agony and pain that came from it, this being the place where they more than likely took Satheair.

He immediately went there when the patrols were on shift change. Once he arrived to the building, he was hit with the screams but with twice the volume; the walls trying to cut the screams down to a minimum. Once he made his way farther into the building, he would notice a door that was slightly open. Entering this room, he would be struck by the sight of a young woman strapped to a stone bed, This woman had her body flayed all across it and maggots were crawling all over her; eating away at her once elegant features. When she noticed the man standing in the doorway, she would whisper weakly,

"Kill me... Please..." the thought of killing this woman conflicted with everything that he believed in… But at the same time, no one deserved to be put through this kind of misery, "Please... Don't let him kill me... Please..." the woman continued to beg him to kill her. Aelirin finally gave in to her pleas and killed her quickly and painlessly. After he had done this he took a shaky step back and began to turn; he was however met with the pommel of a sword to the face and a blacked out.

When he awoke, he tried to walk forward; this however wasn't possible due to there being chains connecting him to the wall. He then noticed that he wasn't alone in the room. In front of him there was a woman lying down on a stone bed; chained there, he was struck with horror as he recognized the face,

"Izzy!" he began to scream her name, thinking that she was dead, but then he heard the door squeal open and the sound of an ominous whistle. As he turned to look at who it was the whistle stopped and turned into a sinister laugh, "I see that you have awoken my little Aelirin, I'm so happy to see that you are in time to watch the fun begin." Aelirin would bring his eyes over to meet the man's, but would flinch when they did meet. The man's eyes had neither pupils nor whites; there was only the color of blood.

"Who are you?! What fun?!" the man smiled at Aelirin from under the dark hood he was wearing, "You get to watch me torture your precious... What is she, your wife..? Fiancé?" he would begin to jerk on his chains at the sound of his fiancé being tortured. He had promised to protect her, to never to let anyone hurt her and he wasn't going to fail now. "No! Torture me, not her! I beg of you!" the torturer simply smiled wider, "Oh, but I plan to torture you, by torturing her." Even though he had questions for the man, hearing that his fiancé was about to be tortured sent him into a rage. He began to jerk, kick, and spit trying to get to the torturer who was simply laughing at his attempts, "You're going to be one of my favorites, I can already tell." and with that the man went about lashing, stabbing, hooking, flaying, burning and outright terrifying the woman over the next several days.

Over these days, Aelirin continued to jerk on these chains and by this time they were raw and bloody. After another session of watching his fiancé scream out for him to help her, he was taken over by a sudden calm; he grinned knowing that he was ready to end this, end all of them. He was going to kill everyone. Now that he had collected himself, he peered searchingly at the chains looking for a weakness in either of them. Too his luck, they were both rusted in spots that if they were to be pressured and to be pulled in a certain way, it would snap them. After the guards had left, Aelirin had waited a short while, making sure they did not return, before he finally broke free from the rusted chains; ultimately freeing himself.  

His fiancé began to call him over and upon seeing his face she would start to cry, "No, Ael, please don't do that. Not again." At the sight of him causing his fiancé to cry, he would suddenly be back to normal. His hearing returned as the screams entered his head once again, "I'm so sorry Izzy.. I wasn't going to--" She interrupted him by jerking forward against her restraints; her back rising from the stone table. His fiancé wasn't there anymore. All that was left in her eyes was pain and suffering, "Kill me Ael. Do it, put me out of my misery." he was taken aback, this woman was supposed to be his fiancé, the love of his life, how could he simply kill her? Who has she become? Why had this happened to her.. ?"I can't do tha--" he was once again cut off as she began to beg him quietly no longer able to support herself, her wounds were taking a toll on her, "Please, Ael, don't let him continue this. Let me die by your hands, not by his, please Ael..." as tears welled in his eyes, Aelirin would walk over to the tray of torture tools and pull off a scalpel, “Izzy, please don't ask me to do this.. Please, I can get us out of here if you'll just le--" She would shake her head and turn away from him, presenting her neck in a sign of lost hope, "No. End it." she began to cry more now, though it was not because she was about to die but because her wounds were causing so much pain. He had killed that girl days before, put her out of her misery. Why couldn't he do it this time? Why couldn't he put the woman he loved out of her misery... But then he did, he gave her a quick death; with her final breath she would whisper out, "I love you." each word getting quieter and quieter.

And then the cold quietness came back. He stood up fluidly with the scalpel in hand and walked right out of the room; his time for grievance wasn't now. He had to finish his mission before he broke; after this, there would be no more Aelirin, he would be a husk of the man he had once been. Upon leaving the room he would be confronted by a patrol team of several ghouls. All of them were dead in seconds, not standing a chance against the man's savage assault.  Aelirin would stroll down the hall opening every door looking for his beloved friend, Satheair, killing every tortured soul he would find that wasn't him. But then he found him, chained to a wall with a muzzle. He was hanging limply from the chains as they supported his weight. After making his way across the room, Aelirin stood before his friend, “Satheair…” He’d then attempt to pull the muzzle off of his friend; this would only bring a cry of dismay from Satheair, some choking, and then nothing. Upon closer inspection he would notice that there was a barbed string going down the man's throat. Without thinking he would press the edge of the scalpel against the skin of his, carefully, he began to cut it out; continuing even after the man began to protest. Once he was done taking it out, it was clear that the man wasn't going to be able to talk while he was here and Aelirin went about wrapping the cuts he had made; this entire time he had taken no notice to the acid burns that covered his friend or the long gashes that were a sickening color around the edges as well as bruises all over his broken body,

"Damn dude. You got fucked up." his cold attitude keeping him from remembering what he had recently done to his fiancé and all those people, "Let's get you out of here.”  He would break the chains from the wall, catching Satheair’s limp body against his chest, “I got you.” Just as he turned, readjusting the Paladin against him, torturer stormed into the room, "HOW DARE YOU KILL MY PETS?!" he would swipe at Aelirin with his sword. Aelirin cringed as he had no choice but to drop Satheair against the ground.  Having already snapped by this man's hands, he simply smiled at him; his eyes were dead, nothing could be seen in them by the torturer, and now he looked scared when their eyes met.

He would smile "It looks like you're going to be my new favorite toy." Aelirin, having always been one for irony, began to slowly walk towards the man, "Stay away from me, you demon! What are you to not be affected by the death of all your friends and your lover?!" Aelirin would simply smile wider, "I am the man who will -BREAK- you." his voice rising and falling at that word. The torturer continued to back up, a horrified expression on his face, and then he would step on the back of his robes which caused him to fall. Before any chance of recovery was to be seen, Aelirin was on top of him allowing for no escape, "It seems that you're scared. Very good, this will make it all the more fun." mimicking the very words that he had been told for several days, he would take the surgical knives he had and slowly begin cutting the man's forehead. He would drag both blades along each side of the man's face and meet at the bottom of his chin; the torturer was screaming as this went on but he was pinned down and unable to move .

"Your eyes are so evil, Torturer, maybe we should give you a reason for them to be so red." As he said this, he would yank at the skin off the man's face, pulling the skin off with a sickening ‘plop’. The Torturer’s screams began to turn into wails of agony as blood filled his eyes mouth and nose "Choke and drown in your own blood. See nothing but red as you die… KNOW THE PAIN THAT YOU HAVE CAUSED!" and soon after, the Torturer quit wailing, he just began to choke and gurgle as his nose and mouth continued to fill with blood. After staring at the man's face for several moments he would strip the man of his clothes and put them on himself. He would go over to Satheair and pick him up and cradled his exhausted form in his arms-- having no armor on made this easy for Aelirin to do-- and he would stroll out of the scourge compound, not a single monstrosity stopping him as he wore the robes of a high ranking officer.

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Satheair did his best to stay conscious as pain engulfed every inch of his body after the weeks of torture he had suffered through. By this point, his arms that had been raised above his head, later shackled to the wall, had lost their capability to move; not that he would want to move them anyway, seeing as how even the slightest of movement caused the rusted cuffs to dig themselves deeper into is already raw wrists, which were the only thing holding him up.

That familiar wailing of the iron door’s hinges filled his ears; his entire body cringing at the thought of what his captors were going to dish out next. *Maybe they’ve finally come to end my misery… If only… *Slowly but surely, Satheair lifted his head as weary eyes looked ahead of him at the approaching shadow. Though his vision was blurred—eyes nearly swollen shut from the countless beatings-- he was able to tell that something was different. Narrowing his eyes, he had hoped that it would help but in reality it just made it more difficult for him to see; the entirety of his body tensed as the blurred figure stood in front of him.

“Satheair…” There it was. He knew that voice from somewhere… But where? Straining to open his eyes further, the blur of the figure slowly became more recognizable to him. Aelirin. Satheair stared up at his savior, his best friend and brother in total disbelief.* Are you real..? *But he was still unable to speak past the muzzle. Before he knew it, he saw Aelirin reaching a hand towards the muzzle that covered his mouth; eyes widening. As the muzzle was pulled, a sudden, muffled cry of dismay came from Satheair; that gut wrenching pain returning to him as he choked on his own blood. Soon after, he felt a stinging sensation against his neck, followed by the warm trickle of liquid. As Aelirin had pulled the final piece of the barbed wire from his neck, Satheair could feel his eyes start to burn as tears filled his eyes, stinging his bloodied cheeks as the fell.

“Damn dude. You got fucked up.” If Satheair hadn’t been close to near death and restrained, he would have punched the Elf square in the jaw for his remark. *Thank you, captain obvious. I had no idea.* “Let’s get you out of here.” The loud, shattering sound of the shackles breaking was music to his ears. Once both arms had been released, Satheair started to fall—his shattered legs providing no assistance to him—only to be met with Aelirin’s grasp. The ranger held his beaten and broken body tightly against his chest. No amount of words could describe the emotions of joy that flowed through his veins. He was finally free from his living hell. *Thank you, dear friend*, was the last thought he had before he submitted to the darkness once again.

The next thing he woke up to was the foul sound of someone—or something—choking on a form of liquid—then he heard it: that grim cry of pain that came from the torture’s lungs. As he now lie against the bloodied and dirt covered flooring, his eyes remained closed, but a cruel smirk slowly curled against his lips, knowing Aelirin was responsible. Suddenly, all was quiet in the small room. Satheair heard the padded sound of footsteps nearing him, soon feeling an arm slip beneath his knees and another against his back before he was lifted from the ground. His head slowly fell against Aelirin’s right shoulder as he was cradled in the ranger’s arms; eyes soon closing, Satheair finally drifted off into a peaceful deep sleep, now that he knew he was safe…