#dra'theas

Dra'theas' eyes were narrowed as he gazed at the raging force of energy, ears twitching alertly as he listened to the sound of metal against metal and cries of war. When Archmage Khadgar declared the opening he had been waiting for, there was no hesitation in the paladin's actions as he dashed forward with the rest of the army. 

Suddenly, it seemed as time around him slowed as an all-too-familiar chill ran down his spine and he looked up as a shadow loomed over him. His good eye found the Death Knight he had been chasing staring fight back at him from the back of a dread raven, a malicious grin on his features and his lichfire eyes glowing brighter than ever. 

You chased me to Northrend, the phantom whisper echoed through Dra'theas' head and his teeth clenched as old rage began to boil inside of him. So chase me again, paladin. Now is your chance. Don't let me down.

The sound of a quiet hiss broke the silence of the room, a finger raised to pale lips that were spread into a wide grin. Cold lichfire eyes gazed down at the two small children that were huddled in their bed, quivering in fear as they returned the stare of the behemoth that had entered their room, unable to look away.

"Don't scream, little ones," the monster muttered with a shake of his head as he stepped toward them. His weapon was sheathed at his back; he would not need it for this. "Your pretty guardian was kind enough to open the door for me. I've only come to visit and leave a message for your father. He's so brave, isn't he...? Going out to fight the monsters that would -love- to hide in your closets?" He tilted his head to the side slightly, then chuckled, his grin widening as a glint of insanity added to the glow in his eyes. "Unfortunately, he forgot to check for the monsters under your beds." Taking another step forward, he kneeled, sweeping a hand in front of him as he bowed dramatically. "I am Telindil Bloodbringer. And I have a gift for you."

----

Dra'theas approached his small home just as the sun's rays were just starting to touch the horizon, painting the dark sky with purples, pinks, and reds tinged with gold. He was exhausted from his late-night trek fighting Scourge and his armor was battered and bloody. Putting a hand to his head, he winced. Another migraine was on its way and he grumbled in annoyance.

Suddenly he stopped just in front of the door, noticing a familiar stench filling his nostrils. His eyes widened in alarm and he drew his sword before barging into the house, a cry leaving his lips moments later when he noticed Farrah's body lying on the floor in a pool of blood, a gash spreading from her throat to her middle. His attention quickly turned to his children's room and he marched for it, silently praying, begging, that no harm had come to the only relation to his late beloved he had left.

The sound that left the paladin's lips when he saw them could only be described as one of utter horror and devastation. The young elves were neatly tucked into bed, but their bodies were lifeless and cold, trails of drying blood trickling from their mouths, noses, eyes, and even their ears. The scene was slowly illuminated, details revealed, as the sunlight began to peek through the windows, the Sin'dorei only able to sit on his knees and stare in numb horror. He almost didn't notice when the migraine he had felt coming surfaced. Just before what vision he had left blurred and blacked out entirely, the golden rays illuminated blood-written words smeared onto the wall above the bed.

Blood for blood.

In the past long while that I had to take a hiatus from WoW and here due to life being a pain in my ass, I've had plenty of time to muse on Dra'theas as a character. He's my biggest, strongest source of a muse in every character that I've attempted to develop on WoW. Having been able to come back online recently and play more with him in-game and see him in action as a full-powered, level 90 Paladin and no longer the scrawny child he once was, I've come to the realization that he simply does not fit into the mold that the Sunvein Dynasty built him into. He's become so, so much more. There's so much development he's been practically screaming in my head about wanting (he's an attention whore I swear to god) and that sort of thing, so I will be withdrawing him from Sunvein and revamping him to an extent and fleshing him out. 

I WILL, however, be putting in another character in his stead once the guild is back from its hiatus and starting anew with whomever it is that I decide to throw in. :) 

So be expecting another OOC note about what will be changing with him. <3

((I apologize if I butchered Val at all; I’ve never written him myself before. xD))

((Good lord, I totally dropped off the face of the planet again. XD Sorry about that, guys. XD;; Life's been busy and internet's been a bitch. I got a job, too! :D Anyways. I'm making this so people can kind of get a feel for what can be expected with Dra'theas once Sunvein is up and running and all that soon. ^^ This is also for my own reference because I'll probably forget to write all this down later. XD

Five years have passed in the storyline, so he's changed quite a bit. He's still a natural at being horribly clumsy when he isn't paying attention, but he's sturdier over all, stronger--much stronger. Knowing him being the workaholic he is, he's likely been working his arse off the whole time, whether it be just through training or running errands or whatever. He doesn't like not being busy. He still has a huge grudge against the Abominations, but he's gotten much better at controlling his temper. Basically, he's not an ignorant child anymore. He's still clueless here and there, but who doesn't have their moments? XD 

In physical aspects, he's stronger and has a much better grasp of himself. He's not a lanky twig anymore. XD He's let his hair grow out again for the most part, but he's also let the natural blond color come out instead of dying it constantly. He honestly looks like a whole new elf, which, honestly, he is. He's grown so much through his experiences. <3 

I'll probably be adding more updates and editing things as I figure stuff out. :) I won't go into major detail, though, because what's the fun of reading everything about a character when you can get to know them through RPs and the like? ^^))

((A little something to make up for my recent inactivity and to show that I'm still alive. XD; I've been pretty busy irl, but I should be back and fully active soon. ^^ ))

Pride had ventured far from the comfortable atmosphere of the Eversong Woods to explore as well as find all new materials to gather. He had found Light’s Hope Chapel and begun to work with the individuals there, both for training purposes and the chance to destroy a heavy amount of the remaining Scourge that lingered nearby. He was in the Noxious Glade when he got the feeling that someone or something was watching him, and while he carried out his mission to dispose of a few pesky cultists, he kept alert. It wasn’t long before he spied a short tunnel, and curious as always, he decided to see what was on the other side. Cold chills rushed down his spine when he realized exactly where he was, a squinting look upwards showing the infamous Ebon Hold far above him.

“Anar’alah,” he had breathed, unsure what could possibly have urged his legs forward, to further investigate the area. His nose wrinkled at the lingering smell of death and the foul stench a left-behind plague cauldron emitted. Without the offerings it initially needed, the poison in the smoke was nonexistent. Walking past the fields and broken houses, he found his way to the ruins of the town and his heart sank at the sight. So many people had died, he reminisced, shaking his head. Human or not, no living creature deserved the end that the Lich King so often brought to those he and his army encountered. His good eye lit up slightly when he spotted the small chapel that had remained standing. Inside, he knelt, murmuring a quiet prayer to honor the fallen, but the eerie tranquility of the area vanished moments after as a cold shiver shot down his spine and he found himself jumping to his feet, about to draw his weapon. Then he froze. In the doorway stood a hauntingly familiar figure dressed in saronite armor, long dark hair pulled back and dead eyes staring out from a pale face.

“Funny that our paths would cross here of all places,” Draeveth commented, his words coming like an icy chill that accompanied a winter breeze.

Pride did not answer, forcing himself to hold his tongue. Instead, he shook his head and took a step back. He felt like a rat in a cage; the Death Knight was blocking the only exit. He watched as the man tilted his head, studying him, before stepping forward.

“No sharp words this time around, boy? Why are you here?” When he was answered only with silence once more, his brows furrowed slightly. “Answer me.” Nothing. “Ignoring me will only provoke my wrath, paladin,” he warned coolly. “Now, answer me.  Why are you here?”

He bit his lip and glanced away slightly. He did not want to fight; he knew he was no match for the soldier. Not yet. Punishment for breaking a law of Sunvein was preferred much more than death. “...Exploring,” he murmured at last. “...To pay respects…” He motioned to the broken altar behind him. A small sigh of relief was held back when the dead man seemed to nod in approval.

“There, see, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Now…” Draeveth rolled his shoulders and side-stepped out of the way of the door. “Get out. You have no place here.”

The young Sin’dorei blinked. Was this Death Knight truly about to just...let him go? Every fiber of his being told him it was a trap, that the monster was only going to stab him in the back once he got close enough. “I can’t trust you.” He stated bluntly, shaking his head. “I’m not moving until you get well out of the way…”

The other male snorted quietly, then shrugged and quietly stepped outside and continued to walk.

Shuddering, he slowly made his way outside as well, glancing around warily. The whole of the ruins had been quiet before, but now it seemed almost too quiet. His gaze fell to the fallen warrior that was still walking and a twinge of remorse pulled at his heart. He hated what the man was, but a small part of him wanted nothing more than to run up to him, throw his arms around him and let himself cry, because dead or not, the monster resembled his father.

Run. Dra’theas stopped, hearing the nearly inaudible whisper in the breeze. He averted his gaze before slowly looking back to the Death Knight, and at the same pace, Draeveth turned around to face the paladin. Cold lips moved, but only barely. Run. A look of confusion crossed his face, then his eyes widened as a sound of swift footsteps caught his ears, heading straight for him. Run!

Pride darted forward just as the ringing sound of a sword slicing through the air was heard, colliding with the ground where he had just been standing. He risked a glance back and the color drained from his face when he saw another Death Knight there, glaring up at him with his lips split in a twisted grin. This one had wild, unkempt blue-green hair and he looked far more ghastly than his former father.

“Hello,” the monster hissed with a low cackle. “Too bad you moved...your death would have been swift. But now…” He broke off with a laugh and jumped to his feet, shrieking in delight as the paladin stumbled and began running as fast as he could. He gave the boy a head-start, waiting patiently for a few moments before he sprinted after him.

Draeveth watched Telindil’s show from where he stood, eyes void of any readable emotion. The other Death Knight was far stronger than himself, and if he had incapacitated the boy so easily before, he knew it would be only moments before Telindil’s blade cut him to pieces. If he didn’t torture him first. He blinked slowly at the thought, a phantom memory of the young boy screaming in agony as an Abomination swung him around by a chain flashing through his mind. He winced. He likely would not have been fatally wounded as he was if he had not been so reckless, breaking away from the group he was fighting with to try and get to his son and help him. Empty eyes blinked again, slowly. He had given his life so that his son could live, and he knew it would not be very different if he interfered now. A screech roused him from his thoughts and he focused on the situation before him.

Pride had not gotten far, Telindil’s Death Grip reeling him in like a fish, and in the next moment, he had been surrounded by cold. Cold was a light comparison to the sensation that racked his body, sinking its way straight through his bones. He did not realize the scream had left his lips, but it was right after that his eyes rolled and he collapsed onto a heap on the ground, earning a sadistic grin from his attacker.

Pride wasn't sure how long it had been since the monstrosity that walked around wearing his father's face had knocked him out, but he woke with a startled jolt and immediately did what he could to gather himself. A small, quick healing spell was all that was needed to relieve his headache, and he headed straight for Silvermoon City, for the translocation orb that would send him to Undercity. Once there, he took the elevator down to the Trade Quarter and tossed a small sack of coins at the goblin. 

"How would you like it, sir?" The greedy green creature grinned. 

Pride shook his head, his good eye glassy from exhaustion and a new hollow feeling that had found its way to his conscious mind. "Just cut it however." 

((Crappy writing is crappy. Haha. My muses haven't been cooperating very well lately, but eh. I figured I'd at least throw this together and try to get it all going again. Draeveth is a character I have legitimately created as well, so you might find him walking around sometimes.))

It was in the middle of the night, amidst the normal calmness of the Eversong Woods that the sudden thumping of a body hitting the ground broke the silence. Pride had been taking a relaxing stroll along the riverside when heavy footsteps coming towards him reached his ears and he had quickly turned to see what was in pursuit. Then, he had fallen on his backside while stumbling backwards in horror.

A Death Knight stood mere feet away from the Paladin, Lich-fire eyes glowing brightly from inside a helmet that hid his face. When Pride fell, he stepped forward, only to stop when he was instantly met with a shout: “Stay away from me!” He blinked slowly and tilted his head.

“I mean you no harm.”

The sound of that distorted voice the champions of the Scourge possessed sent a cold shiver down Pride’s spine and he scooted back before pulling himself to his feet. He was slowly getting stronger, with the help of his training on top of the heavy pack of rocks he was still carrying on his back. The Sin’dorei shook his head in response to the words the other spoke. “It doesn’t matter,” he glared, his hand hovering over the hilt of his mace while the other was tense and ready to go for his shield. “I don’t want your kind anywhere near me, monster.”

Another slow blink, and his eyes narrowed. “Monster? Is that any way to speak to your elder, boy?”

Pride growled, his hands curling into fists. “Elder or not, I’ll not show respect to something that murdered countless innocents! The King may be dead and you freed from his control, but you ought to have died with him! Your kind have no place in this world! You belong in the grave, where you were or on your way to before you were raised!” Death Knights were part of the Scourge, and it was the Scourge that murdered his parents, slaughtered his people and everyone else. As kind-hearted as he tried to be, no matter how devoutly he believed in Belore, he could not find it in himself to forgive any lingering creature the Lich King’s death left behind. In his own anger, he truly did not care that he was speaking to an outsider, breaking one of the rules he knew by heart and usually followed as best he could.

There was a long moment of silence before the Death Knight spoke again, lifting armored hands to his helmet as he did so. “I’m disappointed in you, Dra’theas…I thought I taught you to never speak to me that way…” With a loud clunk, the helmet dropped to the ground and the Death Knight shook his head, fixing the high ponytail his dark hair was in. “...no matter how much your temper got the best of you.”

Complete and utter horror was the only thing the young Sin’dorei could register as he stared at the face revealed to him. I know that face...I know that face… A choked gasp mixed with a sob followed by the sound of him dropping to his knees came then, his good eye fixated on the all-too-familiar face that stared back at him. “No,” he whispered, hoping and praying he had fallen asleep nearby and was having a twisted nightmare similar to ones he had been having the past several years. “You...You’re not...You can’t…”

Draeveth Lightreaver shook his head again, looking at the boy’s face quietly. All color had drained from that area and his mouth was agape as he continued his whispers of denial, tears beginning to stream. “It has been a long time,” he stated quietly, practically ignoring the state of shock the paladin had gone into. “At last, I find you, and this is the welcoming I get. Again, I am disappointed.”

Pride was shaking uncontrollably by that point and another sob escaped him. “How could you expect anything different?!” He cried, his rage bubbling its way through his anguish. “My father was slaughtered when the Scourge tore their way through our land! Mother died trying to protect him!” His eyes widened at the thought of the priestess and he silently prayed above all else that she had not been raised as well, that she had not been puppeted into the horrors of the Lich King’s army. Regaining himself slightly, he forced himself to stand and drew his weapon and shield. “You are not my father! You are nothing more than a monster! My father is dead!”

The fallen warrior frowned and stepped forward, his expression unreadable but calm. “Is that truly what you believe, my son? Despite my standing before you, wishing to at least try to make amends? To have some sort of remnant of a family again?”

“I have no family!” He shouted.

“....I see.” Pride had no time to react before a dark force suddenly pulled him straight to the Death Knight and his startled cry was cut short as a cold hand wrapped around his throat tightly, holding him above the ground. “Then, shall you simply become another victim of the pain and suffering I require for survival?” The Lich-fire eyes narrowed again, and Draeveth’s grip tightened. His ears twitched alertly, taking in every choked sound the boy made, every gasp for breath, every attempted plea. After a moment, a low, quiet purr even rose from his chest when he saw Pride’s eyes beginning to roll.

Pride struggled for breath, to pull away the hand that was cutting off his oxygen supply. All traces of his rage had dissipated, being replaced by terror. He tried to ask why this was happening, and as his mind began to cloud, his lips moved desperately, uttering a single word almost inaudibly. “Azarea…”

The Death Knight froze, eyes widening slightly as a familiar face flashed through his mind. Azarea, his beloved. She had not been raised with him; she was still in a grave somewhere, far from his reach, and he did not know where. His gaze fell onto the boy in his grasp and he frowned deeply. He looked so much like her. Growling suddenly, he flung Pride into a nearby tree hard enough to knock what air he had left out of him and send him crumpling to the ground, coughing and wheezing. Then he walked over and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head up just enough to see his face once more.