#dreadsteed

Today's Horse is:

‘Fwoosh!’

The flurry of fire soared in front as a scythe wreathed in fire chinked into leather armor and cut down an assaulting worgen. A Pyromancer bathed within orange flames stooped over the Alliance troop. His skull for a face gave an expressionless stare as the body limped to the side. “For...Greymane…,” it struggled to speak. Daggers falling to the ground. The life slipping out of the creature’s body. Nearby, a Vulpera caravan parked idly as the driver and his navigator mumbled and bickered to each other throughout the assault. Hiding behind a box that had loosened and toppled over. The pyromancer yanked his scythe out of the bloodied corpse with fresh blood dripping from his weapon.

“Ignitheus.”

Shaking his scythe out, Ignitheus sheathed it to his back, and turned to the voice whom called him out. As he searched the area, another body fell to the ground with dagger wounds lodged deep into vital points and the back. A shroud of darkness appeared in front just a few yards away. A figure exposed himself and stepped close. The killer: an elven rogue in black and red leathered attire. Shadowy magics draping around him like another set of armor. His palms rested upon the pommel of his daggers. Ignitheus turned to the rogue. “That should be it, Zan’themos. Are you well?”

“I am fine, brother,” he said. Rolling his shoulders around. “Burn the bodies away. We don’t need any evidence.” Scattered about the desert sands, corpses littered around the area. Some with burns. Others with deep, long cuts and holes. One with a painful-looking dent smack in the chest. Nearby, a priestess of the Light knelt down to the shooken up Vulpera as a drunken monk staggered with their brew. “Right,” he replied, lighting bodies up in flames with each one he passed. “Lets keep this caravan going.” The Vulpera hopped up as their defenders came close. Nodding, they set out to continue the trek.

Ignitheus had been on the caravan defending job ever since Dazar’alor was assaulted. With the death of the Zandalari king, outposts were spread out in Vol’dun and Nazmir to secure the landscapes against the Alliance. No one wanted to take the chance of another organized invasion to cripple the empire even more than it already is. The Vulpera, hearing of the events, continued to offer supplies of support.

Groaning a bit to himself, Igni brought his hands behind his head. The trading route was a long walk with pit stops along the way for places of momentary rest. Fortunately for the party, the sun was beginning to set, which meant a decrease from the scorching heat. The trek was coming to a close. All was relieving… until Ignitheus stopped dead in his tracks.

As the caravan made its way to the designated outpost, Zan’s ears twitched and turned to face his brother. He watched his movements. Studied his fire, which rose with intensity and wavered from side to side in a slow and focused behavior.

Something had caught the pyromancer’s attention.

“What is it Ignitheus?” Zan spoke with concern and curiosity. A hand kept at the ready to his daggers.

Igni didn’t answer him. Neither did he move or acknowledge Zan. As the sky slowly grew darker, a familiar sensation washed over him. A small surge of shadow energy tethered to a familiar source. A soul he once met. A soul he couldn’t so easily forget.

With urgency, he turned his head straight onto an orc grunt standing guard just up ahead and dashed forwards with Zan followed after him. The grunt was taken by surprise from the skully bonfire up in his face. “What directions are the other Horde outposts in Vol’dun,” Ignitheus questioned with urgency. The grunt backed up from the intensive flames. Beads of sweat dripped from his green forehead. “Ack-! Tone down that magic, elf,” the orc growled. The grunt pointed in different directions. “The outposts are far north-west, east, and-- Hey! Where are you going?!” Igni dashed off. “Stay at the caravan, Zan.” “East,” he repeated to himself. That’s where he felt it. Unsheathing his staff, he muttered forth a spiraling fiery portal as he continued to run. From behind, a trail of hoof prints surged forward followed by the sounds of a horse. A dreadstead cloaked, too, in fire. Igni sheathed his staff, hopped on the dreadsteed, and rode towards the dark source.

On the way to the Horde outpost, the faint source of magic would vanish out of his perception range for a few moments, making Ignitheus looking around and reach out to find nothing, only to have it appear again. If it weren’t for Ignitheus being a warlock and his connections of such dark magics, he’d have far a more difficult struggle in tracking it down. The source was on the move continuously. Stepping in and out of sight and carefully covering its tracks. He growled a bit. It was becoming harder to track. If only he had- Then it clicked.

Shuffling a hand into the neck of his robe, Ignitheus pulls out a large purple crystal the size of his palm. Upon removal, it brimmed with dense shadowflame. A deep echoed voice slipped out from it.

???: “What will you have of me now, Ignitheus?” “Ackolyse. Can you sense it too? That void?” Ackolyse went silent for a moment. The crystal brimmed more. "MmMm... Familiar, but I am uncertain. Deeper than they before, perhaps. The same direction. Away from the outpost. It does not deter. Perhaps on its own hunt as we are."

Sand burned away from his horse’s tracks. Ignitheus illuminated more and more. Knowing this, he forces himself to tone down his light to be less noticable. The crystal then surged and Ackolyse ‘pulled’ onto Ignitheus.

“There! Turn there! Yes. Keep going. It’s definitely her. But keep yourself quiet. There’s another unfamiliar source nearby…”

Ignitheus’ dreadsteed would clop through the sands and dunes. Tens of yards closer to the shrouding void.

Screenshot Saturday: A long loooong time ago #WorldofWarcraft

This is a screenshot from 2006 showing my main character at the time, my undead warlock. Since it shows her with an uninteresting background, I strongly assume I took this screenshot to show off the Dreadsteed! It is a mount exclusive to warlocks. In the beginning, it required completing a questline at level 60. According to Wowpedia, it is now available automatically once your character hits 40.…

Katharine and her dreadsteed Malum from the webcomic Cru the Dwarf sharing a moment together, from page 159:

https://cruthedwarf.wordpress.com/2015/08/02/echoes-through-time-page-159-the-new-boss/