“Shit.” Dardillien stated backing away faster with the soldier.

“Just leave me.. you won’t make it with me.” The soldier exclaimed trying to convince the worgen to drop him and run. 

“No. Come on, just move faster.” Dardillien pulled the man along picking up their pace, but it was futile, the Horde group was closing the distance with ease. Seeing this he fired his revolver into one of the Trolls in front, the Troll fell to the ground, but it didn’t stop the others from rushing towards them.

Suddenly time seemed to slow, it felt like the end, but Dardillien wasn’t going to go easily as he reached for another bullet and began reloading his revolver. He went to aim again, but it was too late they were barreling down on top of them, his eyes going wide as he watched an Orc lift his axe to cleave him in half..

“AGH!” The Orc yelled causing Dardillien to jump as he watched a sword fly through the chest of the Orc. He stumbled back a few feet staring at the weapon before falling to his knees. 

What the hell?! Dardillien thought in a panic when suddenly a wraith-like hand moved in front of him from the corner of his eye and begin to materialize as it grabbed the blade, and then a full wraith-like being formed into a worgen with dark plate armor before ripping the blade from the Orc’s chest.

“Go! Now!” The worgen turned and yelled, sending an icy chill down Dardillien’s spine, just then a giant winged skeletal creature landed behind them as if waiting for them to get on. Dardillien wasn’t going to argue and began moving towards the winged creature.

The worgen then turned back to the other Horde soldiers that had stopped in their tracks and began his own assault, he lifted his hand causing one of the Tauren to lift into the air gasping for air as if he was being asphyxiated. Then in a flurry of strikes at blinding speed and ferocity the worgen cleaved in half a Troll and decapitated an Orc, Dardillien watched the whole thing as he helped the injured soldier onto the creature before getting on himself and it took off in the direction of shore where the Alliance had first made landfall.  He looked back to observe the worgen fight his way through the Horde soldiers, it was a kind of brutal fighting he had never seen before, until eventually he could no longer discern who was who in the sea of people.

“What is a Knight of the Ebon Blade doing here?” The injured soldier asked with a cough.

“I’m.. I’m not sure. However, we are very lucky he showed up when he did.” Dardillien said equally as perplexed as the soldier.

“Either way I am thankful for your help, I didn’t think I was going to make it back there.” The soldier gave a nod and grunted in pain from his stab wound in his side.

“We aren’t in the clear yet, and you need assistance as soon as possible.” Dardillien sighs, Alyssa, please be safe... I can’t lose you a second time. He thought to himself.

The two rode on the winged skeletal creature for what felt like an eternity when really only thirty minutes or so had gone by as they made their way to the shoreline. The smoke from the area continuing to rise and fill the sky.  That’s when they saw it..

“What is that?” The injured soldier asked as both stared in awe at the sight before them. Flying through he air, through the smoke, heading towards Lordaeron was a giant ship, neither could believe their eyes. “Is that thing going to help in the fight against the Horde? How is it flying? Who is flying it?” All good questions and none of which Dardillien had the answers to as he gazed at the magnificent ship pass by on it’s way to Lordaeron. As quickly as the ship appeared before them, it disappeared into the smoke like a ghost on it’s way to the battlefield, both could only hope that it was there to help their allies.

Eventually the two landed at the shore where people were running about, on and off the ships carrying supplies to help in the battle. Dardillien jumped off the winged skeletal creature then helped the injured soldier off and setting him down gently, as soon as both were off the creature flew away in the direction they came from. 

“Stay here, I am going to go see if I can find a healer or medic.” Dardillien stated, the soldier giving him a nod while holding his side. The Gilnean then left to begin his search, one that would prove to be bittersweet for as he made his way along the beach he could not find a medic or healer, however as he walked along he noticed a demonic gate open up and out of it came several soldiers... and his sister. By sheer luck, fate, or perhaps even the Light, his sister had been dumped right in front of him from a demonic gate, she looked like she had been through hell and back, but he had found his sister.

2 years ago, Hillsbrad

“Alyssa?  Hey, ‘lyssa!  Are you home?”  Remy shouts from outside.  Knuckles rap a few more times on the door to the cottage.  Behind him the horse that draws his cart snorts and picks at the grass.  Though their falling out last year was dramatic, still he tries on occasion on his trade runs to bring her basic staples.  The woman may have driven him away, but he still worries about her out here all alone.

No answer at the door, and he produces a ring of keys.  It’s never been an issue, she’s likely out at the Ruins, or picking herbs, or busy in her workshop.  Any number of things, he’ll simply drop off her supplies and be on his way. 

The interior is well lit, lanterns glowing merrily, a fire in the hearth.  None of that is what catches his eye first.  Alyssa lies on the couch, pale, one of her hands limply hanging off the side of it.  Even from here the sickly green tinge to her veins on her pale arms is clear.  Her eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling glow with a fel light as well.

“Alyssa!  Light what did y’do to y’self girl.”  Quick footsteps carry him across the intervening space towards the warlock, only to be stopped by a firm arm across his chest by the second figure in the room he didn’t initially notice.

“She doesn’t need you.  She’ll be fine.”  A feminine voice, with more than a bit of venom.  Horns from her forehead, wings folded against her back.  The woman is very obviously a demon.  “Alyssa has us, and you’re quite unnecessary.”

“What did y’do to her demon.”  Remy all but snarls.  In an instant the affliction is calling to him.  Eyes slitting into wolf like gaze, temper rising.

“I did nothing to her.  I’m simply looking after her, she did it to herself.  Or maybe, perhaps if you really want to think about it, you did it to her.”  The demon woman, a succubus probably?  She flashes a toothy too perfect grin, and gently places a hand on his chest, pushing him backwards.  “She doesn’t need you.  Leave.”

“Rem?”  Alyssa’s voice, feathery comes from behind the demoness, the redhead tilting head with a vaguely confused expression on her drawn features.

He feels his temper flare again, the wolf coming out of him in full, fabric tearing, a snarl.  He’ll hear no more from this demon when the woman he still loves is suffering.  The succubus lets out a startled cry as great clawed hands grasp her neck and sharply twist, sending her essence back to the Nether in one quick stroke.

“Lys, hey, it’s okay, I’m here.”  He steps over the demon’s form, crouching beside the couch, still hulking in his Worgen form, yet concern and care shows on his features.  “What did she do t’you?”

Alyssa’s vision seems to clear a bit, some of the confusion leaving her features as she looks up at him, expression turning to anger.  “What are y’doin’ ‘ere.  What do y’want?”

He recoils a bit, taken aback by the venom in her words.  “Checking in on you.  Bringin’ supplies.”

The warlock sits up with some struggle, looking past him to the body on the floor, before letting out a snarl of her own, felfire forming in her hands.  “What did y’do t’my friend.”

Remy takes a step back, holding clawed hands up warily.  “’Lys.  She was a demon, she’s poisonin’ you or somethin’.”

Alyssa rises from the couch, carefully standing.  She’s lot weight in the past year, cheeks a bit sunken, arms thin.  There’s a tremble in her hands.  The sheer extent of the effects of the Felweed she’s been taking are more obvious now, streaks of faint green under her skin, sickly glow in her eyes.  “Y’don’t get t’decide what poison is.  Y’don’t get t’decide anythin’ about m’life.  Get out Rem.  Y’left once.  Leave again.”

“Aly...”  It pains him to see her falling apart like this.  Regret for leaving in the first place.  And yet here they are again, her threatening him with magic, venom in her words.  If you love something, sometimes it’s best to leave it.  “Alyssa.  This isn’t you.  Y’can be better than this, let me help you.”

Pain.  The sensation of heat and pain as a wash of green fire catches his side.  The first time the warlock has directly used magic against him, and it’s blinding.  He all but stumbles backwards over the body of the succubus as the heat of it feels all consuming.  “Get.  Out.”  Alyssa all but shouts, voice strained.  “Get out.  Go.”  Her hands raised, forming fire again.

“Y’lost Alyssa.”  He winces, burns across the side of his chest and along his arm, hair singed away.  “I’m sorry you don’t know how t’find your way.”  Remy retreats, leaving the package of supplies by the door, and walks out of Alyssa’s life for the last time.

Present Day, Elwynn Forest

“Y’not wrong Rem.  I am lost.”  Alyssa picks up the teacup, and tips it back.  It’s been over a year since she last took it, but the harsh and familiar burn of the Felweed infused drink sliding easily down her throat.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about that Rem.”  Alyssa offers to him, as she turns back to the desk full of objects.  She sets aside the key, and picks up a damaged mantle piece clock, setting about polishing the ash off the fine wood that makes up the body of it.  “Y’want t’fix this one?  It’d look nice.”  A moment of distraction before she recalls what she was about to say.  “Right.  ‘ands.  Think it’d ‘elp t’ave more ‘ands around ‘ere?”

Remy reaches past the redheaded woman, plucking the clock from her hands, and opening the back of it to get a look at the clockwork within.  “I could fix this one ya.  Wouldn’t take long at all.  Y’want it?”  He gets her nod, and pulls up another chair beside her at the desk, playfully elbowing her to make room.  “Pass me m’tools love?  And whatcha mean more hands?  Thinkin’ we hire some labor from the next caravan?  Don’t know if we could afford it, and you know as well as I do we’re crazy enough stayin’ here.  Or is there another man,” he teases, “because I...”

Aly reaches over, gently placing a finger to his lips.  “S’not what I meant.  Any o’that.  I just ‘ave been thinkin’.  It’d be good right, f’me to ‘one what I can do a bit?  Seems like we see more Forsaken on the border every day.  What if I...”

“Lyssi don’t you even.”

“No but if I just...”

“Lys.  No, y’already done too much.”

Alyssa sighs, casting hazel eyes back to the table, pulling over a flask, nudging glasses from in her hair to on her nose as she looks it over.  “Just an Imp Rem.  It can’t be that ‘ard, all I ‘ave t’do is open the gate, let it in, and control it.  Just one.  It could ‘elp with the gardenin...”

Remy sets down the clock and his delicate tools to look the young woman in the eye more directly.  “Alyssa.  I love you, I just want t’be sure you’re makin’ the right decision here.  The things you can do, they’ve gotten us out o’some tough spots.  They will again too.  Just don’t take risks you don’t have t’take.”  He leans in, lightly kissing her forehead, before moving to get up.  “M’goin’ t’go make sure the cows get under the overhang, I’ll fix this clock in a bit, k’love?”

“’old on,” Alyssa pushes out of her chair as well, stepping up to him as he turns, and throws arms around his neck, rising up to press lips to his, another slow loving kiss.  “Thank you Rem.  I promise I’ll think about it, and I won’t do it without you knowin’.”  Another brush of lips, and she settles back, loosely holding him, looking into his eyes.  “I love you Remy.  Every day.  We didn’t get the best ‘and, but we ‘ave each other.  M’goin’ t’go start ‘eatin’ water for you.  You’ll want a ‘ot bath when y’come back in.”

“Vix.  Haag.”  Alyssa snaps sharply.  And a pair of low growls roll in from beside her as her pair of hounds step out of the shadows, one nuzzling affectionately against her leg, the other pacing, snapping its bony jaw.  “Let ‘im go.”  The young warlock’s voice drips with menace.  “Y’might be able t’kill ‘im, but this’ll end badly f’you.”

Of the two, Remy looks far more alarmed.  The imp happened, after a great deal of discussion.  He finally agreed to let her open that gate, bring something through.  The pair of creatures beside her now though, all bone and muscle, are something he didn’t know about.  The knife at his throat reminds him again of the dire situation.

“Last chance lady.”  The Forsaken says, and Alyssa gives a small nod.

“We’ll leave, let ‘im go.”  The young woman responds, hounds snapping at the air beside her.

Tentatively the Forsaken releases Remy, removing the knife from his neck.  He shoves the man forward, causing him to stumble.  It’s all the opening Alyssa needs.

A roiling ball of felfire catches the Forsaken full in the chest, knocking him back burning and twisting in green flames.  She raises her palm at him, striding forward, a sickly green chain of light connecting from her hand to the centre of the burning creature’s chest.  One of her hounds whips past her, taking his leg out from under him, ripping bone and tendon from bone sending the Forsaken to the ground.

“Tell me your name.”

“No please, I don’t want to tell you anything, just finish it,” pale and drawn skin, bones sticking through, the scent of death, it’s hard to even remember he was ever human.  Alyssa doesn’t try.

Behind her, Remy picks himself off the ground, watching with widening eyes at the thing his love has become.  The woman he so cares for, respects, giving in to a darker need.  “’Lyssi.  Let him go.  Let’s go, we don’t have to do this, don’t be what they are.”

“Tell me your name and this will end, I’ll let you live, you can be worth something.”  The Gilnean’s voice comes sharply.

The man looks confused, his face twisted in agony, finally he relents, “Ferdinand.  Ferdinand Mayers.”  He gasps out.  He starts to say more, but there’s nothing left.  A sharp twist of Alyssa’s hands, she jerks them together, ripping his soul free from his body.  The green energy wrangles what’s left of his essence, and drags it down between her palms, pressed together before coming out as a small purple jewel.

The Forsaken’s body lies motionless as she spins the jewel between fingertips, nodding approval and tucking it away before turning back to Remy with a smile.  “There.  ‘e can’t bother us anymore.  I’ll do the same that every single one o’them that tries t’take what we’ve built.”  She moves towards him, spreading arms as though to embrace the man but he takes a step back.

“Alyssa...we’re not staying here.  You can’t keep doing that, you can’t...” he gestures vaguely at the pair of demonic hounds at her sides, one lazily laying in the dirt beside her, the other gnawing away on the dead man’s legbone.  “We have t’get t’Stormwind, where it’s safe.”

A hurt look crosses her features.  “We’re not givin’ up on Gilneas.  There’s more t’find.  Someone ‘as t’care about where we came from or it stops bein’.”

“We can care Aly, we can care from afar, where you don’t have t’be this, do this.”

The young woman squares her shoulders, looking daggers at the man she so cares for.  “M’not leavin’.  I won’t.”

A sigh, Remy nods.  “I am.  Even if you won’t, I’m sorry ‘Lyssi.  I love you, more’n anything.  But I can’t watch you do this, and I can’t spend my whole life living for a place that’s dead.”  He watches her, pain in his eyes as he takes a step backwards, widening the distance.

Flickers of green spark through Alyssa’s eyes.  Anger, frustration, so very easily calling the fel to her side now.  Fire begins to form at her fingertips, before she squeezes hands into fists, shutting it away.  “Fine.  Abandon me, abandon your ‘ome.  Y’dont ‘ave the strength t’do this with me, go run t’Stormwind, tail between your legs.  M’goin’ t’old on t’somethin’ that matters.”  Her voice rises, the fel power still coursing through her encouraging her anger.

“I’m sorry Alyssa.  I’ll miss you...”  Remy gives her one last sad look, and leaves, stepping into the house.

She’s still standing there, fuming, trying to get her anger under control, as he leaves, stepping out of the house with one last look at the woman.  He briefly pulls a small object out of a pocket, turning it over in his hands, a glint of polished metal and a gem.  He sighs, turns, and walks away.

“Val, how’s the ring coming?”  She kneels down to inspect one of the imps, and it holds up a slim silver band with a diamond, neatly and carefully cut in the setting.  “Here, give it here.”  Alyssa holds out her hand impatiently and the imp sets the piece of jewelry in her palm.  A nudge of glasses, pulling them loose form her hair to settle on her nose again and she carefully inspects the ring up close, going over it for any sort of flaw.

“Good enough Val, you’re dismissed.”  A wave of her hand, and the imp with a squeal of frustration is cast back into the Twisting Nether.  The process repeats, going between her minions, checking over their work, seeing what they’ve made for her.  It’s not that she’s not really a jeweler, she is, she makes her own pieces.  It’s just, when one has extra help and limited time, it makes sense to put to use those who can.  She hardly needs their protection or firepower here in Stormwind.  Much though people warn her about parts of town, it’s no match for scrapping with the Forsaken day in and out at the border of Gilneas’ ruins.

She steps over to the window, pushing open the shutters, letting fresh air into the room, and the scent brought on from the summoning of her pets cast out, before moving to seat herself at the desk.  A long wooden box sits there, nearly the length of the desk itself, half buried beneath books.  They’re quickly pushed away, and she carefully opens the box, revealing a soft velvet lining inside, and in a neat row, small faintly glowing purple jewels.  Each of them has a small label below it, and she reaches to pluck one from the box, one labeled:

Ferdinand Mayers; Forsaken; Silverpine Forest; April 5

A flashback.  Alyssa stands over a crumpled figure, all bones and odd angles.  Her hair blowing back from the force of the magic in her hands before her.  A chain of sickly green running from her palms to the Forsaken creature’s chest.  At either side of the young redheaded woman, her two fel hounds sit, one gnawing away at a femur pulled from the man’s body.  The other nuzzling against her leg.  “Tell me your name.”

“No please, I don’t want to tell you anything, just finish it,” pale and drawn skin, bones sticking through, the scent of death, it’s hard to even remember he was ever human.  Alyssa doesn’t try.

“Tell me your name and this will end, I’ll let you live, you can be worth something.”  The Gilnean’s voice comes sharply.

The man looks confused, his face twisted in agony, finally he relents, “Ferdinand.  Ferdinand Mayers.”  He gasps out.  He starts to say more, but there’s nothing left.  A sharp twist of Alyssa’s hands, she jerks them together, ripping his soul free from his body.  The green energy wrangles what’s left of his essence, and drags it down between her palms, pressed together before coming out as a small purple jewel. 

“Good boys, let’s go home.”  She pats one of the Fel hounds before turning to stride back into the woods, back towards Hillsbrad and her cabin, the two red skinned creatures of razor and fire padding along at her side.