#orolian

The undead Elf eyed what was in front of him silently. He contemplated how he would complete his mission. A skilled assassin, the Elf prepared his weapon of choice: a steel dagger with a gold hilt. He pulled out a vial with a blue liquid, uncorked the vial, and poured it on the blade. The dagger began to glow a dim blue hue; Sleight held the dagger in his right hand and began to make his way towards Rykur.

One slice, that was all that Sleight had to complete his mission. The more natural or random he could make Rykur’s death, the better for him. The goal was that no one could tell a shadowstalker had assassinated him from the shadows; a feat that previously seemed impossible.

The Elf approached the large Orc and came up behind him. With an arm of experience, he raised his dagger, and brought the tip to the back of the Orc’s neck - inserted the blade into his skin, and pushed down to the Orc’s waist. The blade tore through his skin with ease, puncturing and ripping organs inside and breaking ribs as Sleight strongly pushed down.

Rykur suddenly let out a yell of pain and then fell dead. His hands were reaching for his back, yet his back seemed fine. There was no blood, no evidence of a wound, yet the Orc was dead. Sleight quickly left the scene and watched from 50 feet away. He watched as the other members of the camp quickly made their way to check on Rykur. He watched as they desperately tried to figure out what happened to their boss. Sleight smiled, they would never figure it out.

***

Orolian smiled as he relished in the success that he had created for his business. As the leader of a Military House, Orolian was given priority to provide arrows for the Sin’Dorei, and with the Reagent-Lord’s permission, a large part of the Horde and other Neutral Factions in Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. He grinned as he thought of this fact, eyeing the inside of a man-made cave in the Netherstorm that he had paid for. Soon, he would use his large influence of gold to further other operations he had in mind.

With him, was an Orc Warlock Female named Lithia of the Shadowmoon Clan. An experienced and powerful Warlock who Orolian took a liking to when he witnessed her power during the exploration of Dreanor. He recruited her and now uses her to create new techniques to help expand his market. The other was Alerion, or Sleight as he now liked to call himself. Thanks to Lithia, Sleight was there to accompany them. He doesn’t speak, and his face was rotten; like a forsaken, he had been brought back to life, but instead of having freedom, Sleight has to serve his older cousin.

“Lithia, I have to say, I am impressed.” Orolian spoke as he held a dagger in his hands, “Your alchemy skill is incredible, people still have no idea how all of these fletchers suddenly died. Healers are confused as to how someone can have their insides ripped apart, yet have no outside wound. Some are suspecting shadow magic; which I guess they aren’t entirely wrong.” Orolian grinned. In front of him, a table full of a variety of daggers, all neatly lined up in a row, with a row of vials with blue liquid on top of each dagger. “My question is, is there any way we can make this last longer?”

Lithia grunted as he watched Orolian muse. He wanted an even stronger version of her creation? What was he planning to do? Lithia had originally agreed to help Orolian do this when he told her he only needed to expand his market. It was a win-win situation, Orolian grew more rich, and Lithia got to explore and experiment new alchemy formulas, but Lithia had learned not to trust Orolian: the man was a sociopath. She walked closer to him and picked up one of the vials with blue liquid, “Perhaps. This isn’t easy to create, Flamearrow. But I can see what I can do.”

Orolian grinned, “Good! Then we can get my dear ol’ cousin over here to try it out.” Orolian looked back at Sleight and gave him a wink, “He’s been doing very good at following orders. I don’t know what you did to him, Lithia, but he’s probably stronger than me now.”

Lithia narrowed her eyes, “Exactly. So you’d best be more considerate of his situation.”

Orolian laughed, “Oh, I’m not afraid of him attacking me. Please, he wouldn’t. He knows I know too much about his personal life to do anything stupid like that.” Orolian smiled as he eyed the dagger from top to bottom. He grabbed one of the vials and removed the cork and placed the liquid on the blade. The liquid seemed to infuse itself with the blade; soon, there was a dim hue of blue that surrounded the entire blade of the dagger. He turned to Sleight and walked over to him, “Here, cousin. Try this on for size.”

Sleight took the dagger from Orolian and narrowed his eyes. He stood up and walked deeper into the cave, where their test subjects waited.

Deep inside of the cave was a holding area for Dreanei and Worgen test subjects that Orolian, Sleight, and Lithia had gathered. The prisoners were dressed in simple clothing that was easy to rip off, and they were all chained to the walls. Sleight walked up to one of the Dreanei females, and readied his blade.

Orolian chimed in, “Alright, I put more of the liquid on the blade this time. Slash her 3 to 4 times, I want to see how many times it’ll work.”

Sleight didn’t say a word, instead, he went ahead and slashed horizontally across the Dreanei’s chest. The female screamed in pain, but just as quickly as she was wounded, her skin healed. Sleight then sliced her twice, three, and four times. The first two slices skin healed immediately, but the third and fourth slice were very evident. Blood pooled beneath her, as she continued to yelp and cry out in pain. Sleight payed no attention to her sobs, he didn’t seem to mind it at all. He took a step back and held on to the dagger.

Lithia walked up to the female and placed a hand on her cheek, “Rest now child.” Her palm began to glow a dark green hue as she began to suck out the Dreanei’s remaining life force. In ten seconds, the Dreanei fell dead, soulless. Lithia examined the dead Dreanei, she ran her fingers on the wounds that externally healed, “Internal bleeding. It is working as intended.”

Orolian walked up to the corpse and examined the damage. “Mmmm, two slices only. I guess we can work with that.” He looked over at Lithia, “And this is as strong as you can make it?”

Annoyed, Lithia gave Orolian a nod. “Probably. Manipulating the body is no easy feat, Flamearrow.”

“Blah, that’s no good. Oh well, guess we will take what we got.” Orolian walked to Sleight and took the dagger from him, he turned around and looked at the remaining prisoners, “Three Dreaneis and Two worgens, five total; three males and two females. We may need more.” Orolian mused out loud.

Lithia and Sleight said nothing as he spoke, why would they? Orolian wouldn’t listen anyway.

“Let’s take a trip to Silvermoon. We have some business to conduct there.” Orolian walked back to the laboratory and picked up three vials and three daggers. He gave two of each to Sleight, and kept one of each for himself. He gave Sleight a nod.

Sleight walked forward and pulled out an engineering portal device, he picked the coordinates for Silvermoon, and opened up a portal.

The three of them walked through the portal and came out into Silvermoon City. They ported in the Bazaar, and surprisingly, it didn’t seem busy this time of day. The entire armada must be preparing to join the assault on Argus. Orolian pulled out the dagger and uncorked the vial, prepping the dagger again like he previously did. He gave the dagger to Sleight, “Alright, I want you to kill two of the auction masters. Apparently this liquid is strong enough to kill two people, so you should be able to pull this off. Make it as fast as possible, and try not to get seen.” Orolian handed them off to Sleight and began walking, “Lithia and I will wait out next to your grave. Come to us when you are done.”

Sleight took the weapon and then eyed Orolian silently. He never understood why Orolian liked to go to Alerion’s grave whenever they came to their home place; he figured it was to mock him, or make him remember his past life. Regardless, Sleight tried not to think about it, and instead did as he was told. Without a word he vanished into the shadows and made his way to the auction house.

The auction house was emptier than usual, but there was a fair bit of civilians attending the daily auctions. Many of these civilians were trying to buy food for as cheap as possible, others wanted to buy weapons in case some demons came into Eversong. None of them were soldiers, but they all knew how dangerous the Burning Legion is.

Sleight used his abilities to move undetected; he chose his two victims, and quickly used the shadows to teleport himself behind his first victim. With no remorse or hesitation, Sleight quickly reached in front of him and gave a clean cut across his throat, and just as quickly teleported behind his second victim and did the same thing.

Both Auction Masters reached up and gripped their throats, choking on blood as the insides of the throats were severely damaged, yet the outside didn’t seem hurt. They both spat out blood and fell to the ground. Everyone at the Auction House yelled in terror, the Silvermoon Guards alongside a few Farstriders arrived on scene quickly.

Sleight stood in the shadows and watched.

“This is Ranger-Lord Yelberos, what happened?” A confident, highly armored Elf arrived. He sprouted a beautiful bow, and Sleight assumed he knew how to use it.

“Sir! We are unsure. The Auction Masters suddenly fell, spitting out blood.” One of the Farstriders on scene quickly responded. The Silvermoon Guards started on crowd control and began calming down the citizens. The Auction House was quickly evacuated and closed.

Yelberos eyed the bodies and narrowed his eyes, “Perhaps Warlock magic?” He looked around, trying to find anyone who could stick out.

A different Farstrider responded, “Sir, Ranger-Captain Shalbalam here, I don’t believe so. The Arcane Guardian stationed right outside here detected no magic use. They were clenching their throats, as if they were being choked, or they had been wounded there.”

Sleight smirked. This was turning into quite the scene. He wasn’t entirely sure at what Orolian planned with this; causing panic didn’t seem to benefit him, but Sleight knew exactly how to turn it against him. He made sure to remain undetected, and dropped a dagger in front of the Farstrider group. He revealed himself for two seconds before vanishing again.

The Farstriders all came to attention at once, “Track him down!” Yelberos yelled, all the Farstriders immediately sprang to action, and ran towards where they believed Sleight had ran to.

As the Farstriders made their way to the entrance of SIlvermoon, they found an empty vial there, purposely left by Sleight. Yelberos stopped them, “He’s leading us somewhere. But why?”

Shalbalam narrowed his eyes, “An ambush?”

Yelberos growled slightly, “Perhaps.” There were currently seven Farstriders total, “Ranger-Captain, gather your squad. That should make 15 of us.”

Shalbalam saluted him and immediately pulled out a pendant and began saying orders. Soon after, his assigned squad was there with the others.

Yelberos gave him an approving nod, “Good. Let’s move out.”

---

Sleight had purposely left a trail that the Farstriders could follow. He soon made it to Lithia and Orolian and unsheathed the two daggers and vials and gave them to Orolian.

Oro smiled, “So I take it, it worked?”

Sleight simply gave him a nod.

“Good, good.” Orolian laughed, “Oh light, I can only imagine the panic in their faces. Fel, you did good, dear ol’ cousin.” Orolian sheathed the daggers and put away the vials. They were currently standing on a platform that was in the air due to magic; Orolian walked to the edge of the platform and looked over the horizon. “Lithia, Sleight, you are free to do as you wish.”

Sleight quickly looked at Lithia and grabbed her arm, beckoning her to follow. Lithia tilted her brow curiously at him but followed him. As they made their way out, Sleight provided a cloaking field that made both of them temporary invisible. Lithia became more confused as Sleight did this, but something told her to stay quiet and follow him.

They climbed up a mountain and made it to an area where they could see Orolian but remain undetected from anyone else coming. Lithia tapped into Sleight’s mind and spoke to him, “What are we doing, Sleight?”

Sleight looked at the platform where Orolian was out. “He deserves to be caught.” He said simply.

Lithia narrowed her eyes at Sleight but then smiled. “I agree.” She said simply as she sat down and watched. She had come to learn that the Flamearrows were very cunning and clever; she sat back, and waited to see what Sleight had planned.

Orolian stood eyeing the horizon. He took a deep breath and exhaled, “I am being betrayed.” He muttered out silently. He turned and walked to the other side of the platform; 15 Farstriders were making their way to him. He narrowed his eyes and walked out to meet them.

“Ranger-Captain Flamearrow! This is Ranger-Lord Yelberos. We are looking for a shadow stalker dressed in black. He murdered two Auction Masters at the Bazaar. We’ve managed to track him this far.”

Orolian looked up proudly at the Farstriders, he gave Yelberos a salute, “Ranger-Lord, I haven’t seen anyone.”

Shalbalam eyed Orolian curiously. His eyes immediately went on the daggers that looked exactly like the one he found earlier. He leaned in and whispered at Yelberos.

Yelberos narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure?” Shalbalam gave him a nod. The Ranger-Lord hopped off his hawkstrider and grabbed onto his bow, “Ranger-Captain Flamearrow, you are under arrest.”

Shalbalam and the rest of the Farstriders hopped off their Farstriders as well, each pulling out their bows, “Be careful. Flamearrow family members are bred to fight.” Shalbalam muttered as they walked towards Orolian.

Orolian sighed, “So my hunch was correct.” He muttered, but why would Sleight betray him? Was he testing him? Orolian was testing Sleight, so maybe this was his way of returning the favor. “Mmm, I’m sorry Ranger-Lord, but that isn’t happening.” He looked around; 15 versus 1. He clenched his fists, he did not like his odds. He eyed everyone in front of them; the majority of them looked like rookie Farstriders, Ranger-Lord Yelberos was a good fighter, and Ranger-Captain Shalbalam was laughable. He eyed the rookies quietly, Orolian could see fear in their eyes. He would use that.

“You aren’t going to arrest me. However, if you keep on trying, I will retaliate. Are we understood?” Orolian crossed his arms and tilted a brow. They were far enough where Orolian could vanish if they tried firing, and too far to arrest him just yet. His eyes were locked on their bows, none of them seemed to be preparing to fire. “Ranger-Lord, how often have you seen me fight? You know what I’m capable of. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Yelberos shook his head, “You murdered two civilians in Silvermoon. You will not be allowed to leave here without facing justice. I don’t care who you are, Flamearrow, you are a wanted criminal now.”

Orolian laughed, “Wow, you sure escalate quickly. I thought you said you were looking for a shadow stalker dressed in black? Last I checked my chainmail armor is red. Come on, Ranger-Lord, you’re getting old.”

Yelberos let out a low growl, “Rangers! Knock!” All 15 of them quickly knocked an arrow into place, “Aim!” They all aimed at Orolian, “This is your last chance, Flamearrow.”

Orolian grinned, “Fine.”

“Fire!”

As soon as the arrows flew, Orolian launched himself backwards and activated a temporary cloaking field that instantly made him vanish. None of the arrows hit him; instead, Orolian fell. He fell, and fell, and landed at the bottom of a canyon, but was relatively unharmed. Instead, he pulled out his bow and arrow and began firing arrows.

Orolian was still invisible as he launched arrows up the canyon, and skillfully hit three Farstriders, killing them instantly. The group began to panic; they had no idea where he was, and they were being picked off.

“Spread out! Keep your arrows ready, kill him when you see him!” The group spread out, but the arrows kept on coming.

Now, arrows were infused in fire and arcane magic came at them, the arcane ones erupting upon contact and the fire arrows burning the insides of the Farstriders. Five more fell. Eight Farstriders fell just like that.

Orolian finally became visible and he began to run for cover, it took the remaining Farstriders ten seconds to see him, and soon they began to launch arrows at him.

Orolian had managed to make enough distance to where the arrows were missing him. Not to mention the majority of the squadron were rookie Farstriders, Orolian didn’t feel threatened at all.

He found a tree and fled behind it, quickly activating a camouflage field and then he sat and waited.

----

Lithia and Sleight stood up on the mountain watching. Sleight smirked, he expected nothing less from Orolian, but part of him wished he would die. That would make life much more easier for him.

“He’s good.” Lithia muttered, “I always knew he was good, but not this good. Your cousin is a dangerous man.”

Sleight grunted but kept quiet; Orolian was not family to him, but he is a dangerous man.

“Should we help?” She asked as she crossed her arms and watched.

Sleights shook his head, Orolian could handle this by himself.

---

The Farstriders quickly caught up to Orolian’s location. “Spread out! Find him!” Yelberos shouted as he watched the surrounding areas; he had to be here, and he would get him.

The rookie Farstriders all spread out, but some of them seemed reluctant to leave the big group. This man had wiped out eight of them, and they all feared they were next.

Orolian leaned against the tree and watched as the rookie Farstriders all walked right past him. Yelberos and Shalbalam were the farthest from him, which was perfect. Orolian took out the two daggers and moved out of his camouflage; he ran up to the closest rookie Farstrider and stuck the blade into the middle of his back, pushing it in as deep as he could, before quickly running to a second one and doing the same. As they both fell, Orolian took out his bow and quickly fired two flaming arrows at two other rookie Farstriders, they fell just as quickly as well.

Orolian then ran behind a tree and hid again. There were only three left.

Yelberos looked around at the carnage, “Who are you!!” He yelled out, “You are no Sin’Dorei, you are a demon! How can you do this to your own people?!”

Orolian grinned but kept quiet. He enjoyed toying with them, and he could feel their fear building up.

Shalbalam picked up Orolian’s location and motioned to Yelberos. He was behind a tree. Shalbalam took out a sword and walked towards Orolian’s location, he would try to strike him as stealthy as possible.

---

Lithia grunted, “Mm, he doesn’t need us, it seems.”

Sleight smirked, he stood up and removed two sheathed daggers. Lithia looked at him and lifted a brow, “You’re going to help?”

Sleight gave her a nod. He then vanished and began running down to Orolian’s location.

---

Shalbalam, Yelberos, and the other Farstrider all struck at once at where they believed Orolian was, only to find it empty. “Shit!”

The last rookie Farstrider yelped in pain as he was impaled by a long polearm, Orolian then appeared quietly behind him, as he placed a foot on his back and pushed him off the blade. He grinned, “Come on, no bows, fight me with your melee weapons.”

Yelberos narrowed his eyes at him, “This isn’t a game Flamearrow. You’ve killed 13 Farstriders today, you will be brought to justice!”

Orolian smirked, “How? You are the only ones who suspect it's me. Shala-shit over there has the evidence, and you are all going to be dead after this. So, honestly? I think I am a free man.”

Shalbalam growled, “Fuck you!” He ran forward with his sword. Orolian stood at the ready, a savage grin on his face. He enjoyed fighting. So much.

Shalbalam suddenly fell before he could make it to Orolian. A black throwing blade impaled his  throat, and he fell down, dead.

“No!” Yelberos threw down his bow and pulled out his sword, he looked around and found Sleight behind him.

“Sleight! I had this handled!” Oro yelled out with an annoyed roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Kill him.”

Sleight smirked and shook his head, he began to walk to Yelberos, two daggers in hand.

“Step back! I will retaliate!” Yelberos desperately yelled out, sweat began running down his temples.

Orolian laughed, “Oh please, you couldn’t beat me, you will never beat him. He’s better than I am, so good luck, Ranger-Lord.”

Yelberos growled, as soon as Sleight came into distance he lunged forward and swung his sword.

Sleight vanished from sight, dodging the large sword, and appeared behind Yelberos. He stuck two daggers on his back and pushed them down. Blood gushed from his back as Yelberos yelped in pain and soon fell lifeless.

Sleight removed his daggers from Yelberos’s now corpse and sheathed them. Lithia began doing rounds on the dying Sin’Dorei, sucking the remains of their souls and keeping them for herself. With each soul she drained, she felt herself become stronger.

Orolian walked to Sleight’s side, “You did this, didn’t you?”

Sleight gave him a nod.

“Why?”

Sleight smirked but didn’t answer, for obvious reasons.

Lithia walked down and met the pair, “Because you’re an asshole.”

Orolian scoffed, “Please. Am I an asshole because I care about my family’s well being?”

Lithia laughed, “Well considering you just say that, and really you are a selfish prick, yes, I think you are an asshole.”

The Corpse in front of the Hunter laid on the ground completely eviscerated. It suffered major wounds, as the limbs were nearly ripped off, and its head was barely holding on with the last bit of muscle and skin tissue around the neck. It looked like something out of a horror story – with what appeared to be almost no mercy in the killing. The work of an angered soul.

“Good... Good...” From behind the Hunter appeared the Elder Flamearrow. His body adorned in the most lavish of leathers; covered from head to toe. Nothing on this Rogue's appearance would indicate who he was, except for his cleverly disguised voice. “You will do good for us.” Xandiv looks down at the body, a grin under his mask, “Very, very good.” His head turns up to look at the side of the Hunter's head, “And how do you feel?”

“I feel...” The Hunter looks down at the corpse; his eyes locked onto the damage he had done. “... Nothing.” He mutters after a brief pause. His words coming out easy, yet they seemed forced. Orolian simply stares at the body; his entire frame motionless, as he turns to face Xandiv, “What do you wish of me?”

Xandiv laughs slightly, “Oh, my boy. I have a lot for you to do.” The Rogue takes one more look at the corpse, “Clean this up. We don't need to have it found.” He pats the Hunter's back as he walks off, “Report to me later tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” The Hunter looks down at the corpse, wondering how exactly he was going to get started. The sight was surreal, nothing like the Hunter had ever seen before. He could have stopped at simply killing the man, but he didn't. He continued to dig his blade into his body, seeing what he could rip, what he could destroy; just like he's been ripped apart. He didn't even know why this man had to die, he only knew that Xandiv had demanded it, and Orolian had experienced Xandiv's wrath for his entire lifetime; fifty-seven years. Fifty-seven years of a man constantly torturing and tempering another man, all for his own selfish desires.

Orolian kneels down, as he brings out his knife once more, and severed his limbs all-together. He looks around, and behind him he finds a brown tailored bag. “How did this get here...” His eyes narrow as he looks around the area, trying to find out if someone besides Xandiv was watching him.

Another Rogue appears beside Orolian, a grin on his face, “I figured you could use some help.” The Rogue's smug was one that would easily aggravate anyone who wasn't Orolian. “Noticed Bossman didn't leave you anything to put this shit in, so here ya go.” He smirks, as he walks off, vanishing in the shadows. “The name's Axel by the way. You'll be seeing me around a lot. Have fun.”

“Hmm...” Orolian simply takes the bag, and continues his work. He didn't know who Axel was, but quite frankly, he didn't care. Any lackey of Xandiv was not his business. At this point, Orolian only cared for his own well-being, as that is all he knows how to do. After a few minutes, all of the body was tucked inside of the bag. He picks it up, swinging it over his shoulder, as he moves to take it to the nearby dump site.

“Flamearrow, I want this to be quick and clean. Got it?” Axel looked down at Orolian with a smirk, his arms crossed, as his followers stood behind him. There were three of his followers, all members of the New Blades group led by Turalyon “Axel” Bladescythe. The group worked directly for Xandiv Flamearrow, as his assassins, espionage, or any other sort of thing he needed done. They were ruthless, and very good at what they do. The three assassins were geared in leather armor, each sporting a set of twin daggers – all three of them looked identical. Their faces were all shrouded by masks, hiding any sort of facial expressions the murderers may show. “I know Xandiv would be very upset if we fail.” Axel would let out a small chuckle. The leader of the group was also geared in the same leather armor as the other Rogues, except his daggers were different – they were both identical, but each dagger had a unique rune marking etched onto it. The runes glowed softly in the night, making a small, yet unnoticeable light.

The Hunter in question simply looked up at the men, his facial expressions unwavering, as he simply nods his head. “Of course.” He says simply, no emotion in his words what-so-ever. The Hunter was geared in simple mail armor that Farstriders would typically wear; except his was a redder version of it. He carried with him a simple compact bow, and a brown leather quiver with over thirty arrows in it. Alongside the bow, Orolian carried twin daggers which he kept in sheathes on his sides; the daggers were simple in nature, a hilt and a steel blade, nothing too fancy like Axel's blades.

“Good. Don't fuck it up.” Axel smirks, as he nods to his men, and the four vanish from sight, leaving the Hunter alone to his own luck.

“I won't.” Orolian was left alone to complete the next stage of the mission. The Hunter reacts as quickly as they had left, and begins to move to the manor in front of them. The group had hidden a few hundred meters away from the building; giving them enough cover to speak and plot in private. But now Orolian was in plain sight, as the Hunter walks in quick strides to the Manor's door. It didn't take him long to reach the entrance, as his hand reaches up, and knocks on the door three times. He took several steps back, as he was quickly greeted by two young Mages. A male and a female.

“Greetings.” Orolian starts. The two Mages watch the Hunter warily, but nod in return, before Orolian would speak again, “I am looking to speak with your Patriarch regarding possible business between my Lord's house and your own.” While the two Mages would have rather confused and wary expressions on their faces, Orolian himself had no expression on his face; complete deadpan.

“Ehm...” The mages would look at each other, before the male would speak up and regard Orolian, “May I know your name?” He would ask, rather nervous in front of the heavily armed Hunter. It was evident that the Mages in question were both very young, perhaps in their late teens to early adult stage.

“Of course. My name is Quint Sheelwood.” Orolian's lie would deceive even the wisest of individuals, as his expression, and body language did not change; absolutely no expression or reaction what-so-ever in the Hunter's body.

The male Mage speaks up again, “Ehm.. Nice to meet you, Mr. Sheelwood... I am Taylion Syn'Thal, and this is my sis--”

“I can introduce myself!” The female would pout and glare at the male, “I am his sister, Raylie Syn'Thal.” She would smile at the Hunter, only to receive nothing in turn. The two siblings whisper at each other, before Raylie would speak up again, “Why would you come out here at such a late time anyway? It's so late!” The female Mage was obviously wasting time at this point, as her brother would sigh, and begin to speak again.

“Patriarch Gaius Syn'Thal IV is currently resting, I am sorry to inform you. I just scryed his room to see if he was available.” Taylion would receive an elbow to his side by Raylie when he said this.

“You did what?! If dad finds out we are in trouble!” She mutters to the male, as she crosses her arms and glares up at him.

“Stop! I know! But... Hey we have a guest okay?!” The Male would motion to Orolian, as he turns back to regard the man. “Ahem. Sorry about that, yeah.. He's unavailable. So you have to leave.” Taylion nods his head, as he bites his lip and waits to see for Orolian's response.

Orolian simply looks at the man as his hands go down to his daggers, grabbing onto the hilt of both of them. Raylie and Taylion both look at Orolian with nervous expressions.

“Uh... Mr. Sheelwood, what are you doing?” Raylie would mutter out, her body tensing up and getting ready for a possible fight, as Taylion does the same thing.

“I am here to speak with your Patriarch.” Orolian would say again, as he stares at the two Elves with the same blank expression. However, behind the two Elves, Orolian would spot two of the same Elves he had arrived with earlier. Their movements were silent, as they sulked in the shadows.

Without another delayed second, Orolian unsheathed both daggers and charged at the two Mages. Taylion would quickly raise a wall of frost, stopping Orolian from assaulting them, “Stop!” He would mutter, as his hands begin to glow a bright blue hue.

"TAYLION!” The Male's concentration was stopped as his sister was dragged back by one of the leather-wearing Rogues. “HELP!” She mutters, her eyes staring at his, as the one handling her silently moves his dagger to run straight across her throat; the blade easily making its way through any muscle and skin tissue she had, making it a quick kill.

“NO!” Taylion would try and avenge his sister, but Orolian had sneaked up behind him just as silently as the New Blades assassin had sneaked up on Raylie. He brings up a dagger to strike the back of the Mage's throat, the sharp steel going through the muscle tissue with ease, and instantly causing the Male to suffocate in his own blood.

When Taylion looked dead, Orolian removes his blade from the Mage's neck, as he cleans it on his victim's robe. He looks up at the two assassins, “Where is Axel?” He asks.

“Right here.” Axel grins, as he walks to the group with Patriarch Gaius Syn'Thal unconscious over his shoulder. “Good work chaps. This was easier than I thought it would be.” Axel would look at the people present, before regarding the two assassins, “Where's Willie?” He would ask the two Elves.

“He was finished off by---” The Rogue was cut off, as a blast of arcane was etched into his back, by a Female Magistrix who managed to sneak up on the group while they were busy. “FEL! GET HER!”

“YOU BASTARDS! YOU KILLED MY CHILDREN!” The female Magistrix was beginning to cast another spell, before the second assassin makes his way to her, quickly extending his hand out to strike her in the abdomen, but missed greatly as the Magistrix vanishes from sight, and reappears meters away.

She began casting again, managing to fire off a Frostbolt at the unharmed assassin before she received an arrow to her side. She would gasp for air, as her eyes turn to the man who managed to harm her, before vanishing from sight once more, leaving only a small drop of blood on the ground as proof she was there.

“So is that who killed off Willie?” Axel asks the first assassin, “C'mon, Johnny. How could you let her do that?” Axel would laugh, “To think, you were outsmarted by some old lady.”

“To be fair, Sir. Willie was the one killed. Felix and I are fine.” The Elf known as “Johnny” would look up at his master with a grin as he removes his mask, “Bitch got lucky I say.”

“Fel, you got burned more than I did Johnny. You gonna need a medic for that shit.” The other assassin known as “Felix” would mutter, as he examines his partner's wounds. “It's a real shame for Willie though, he was a good man.”

“Aye, a good man indeed. Whatch'a think Master Flamearrow? Did we do good?” Johnny would look at Orolian, wanting to see any sort of response, but laughed, because he knew he wouldn't get any. Orolian would simply stare at the group, no expression on his face; the same way he had been the entire mission.

“Don't bother asking him any questions. He doesn't even know how to measure how good something is.” Axel would laugh, as he repositions the Patriarch over his shoulder, “This little Flamearrow right here...” Axel would walk over and give Orolian a smack in the back, “He's a perfect little killing machine. That's what he is.” The Rogue would grin, “Oy, you fools did kill the rest of 'em, yea?” Axel would ask as he regards the other two Rogues again.

“Of course, boss. They died quicker than an old lady in her bed.” Johnny would remark, a grin on his face.

“Ye' kill old ladies now Johnny?.. In their beds?! How disgusting.” Felix would remark, but then laugh, “Ah, who am I kidding. We all have been there. Old ladies be fun to kill, I say.” The two Elves would laugh, and only receive a smirk from Axel.

“C'mon, bossman is waiting for us. Don't want to make Lord Flamearrow impatient.” Axel would command, “C'mon Flamearrow. Don't get left behind now.” Axel would remark with a grin. Orolian would simply obey Axel's commands, no grunt, no acknowledgment; simple obedience.

“I often wonder what happened in that Manor. I had only seen or been a part of two murders; however, on the way back, Axel had talked about identifying six people. So that means that four people were murdered that day, with one individual delivered to Xandiv for some reason I have yet to figure out, and the other escaping with her life – barely.... The sad thing is, the only reason they were targeted was because they shared our blood. They were innocent of everything, but Xandiv wanted them gone... because our blood lied in the Flamearrows only. Heh... How times have changed. I wonder if that woman is still alive... would she recognize me if she saw me? 

Orolian's room, a room well decorated at the end of the left wing, and the master suite in the entire manor, was just up ahead. Alerion was coming in unannounced, so he did not know whether it was safe to barge into his room or not. While Orolian, in public, seemed to be a rather well-kept individual, when left alone, he was not the same person. The hunter brings his hand up to knock against the oakwood door, tapping three times with his knuckles and waiting.

“What do you need?” Orolian opens the door with an eyebrow tilted. The Rogue looks at the Hunter expectantly, as if Alerion had interrupted something rather important.

“I need to speak to you, Orolian. May I come in?-”

“No. Let's walk outside.” The Rogue steps out of the room and closes the door behind him. He beckons Alerion to follow, as the two silently walk down the second floor's hallway, down the stairs, to the courtyard. “What do you need, Alerion?” The Rogue asks, unsheathing a dagger and toying with the blade, eyes focused on the sharpness of the metal.

“You mentioned a Necromancer. Someone that you had to deal with when you went to Kalimdor looking for me. What happened to the Necromancer?” The Hunter asks calmly, his face neutral as he watches the Rogue silently.

“Ah. Him. He's dead. Why?” Orolian's head silently turns to regard Alerion, an eyebrow raised curiously.

“Are you sure he's dead?”

“Do I look like a man who wouldn't have killed the bastard who attacked me?” The Rogue rolls his eyes, sighing. “Yes, he's dead.”

“Then why did a phantom, wraith... shade entity attack Sophysa two days ago?”

This caught the Rogue's attention, as a sly smirk spreads across his face. “Sophysa? Knowing her, she probably agitated the wrong person.” Orolian shrugs, “Perhaps someone wanted revenge on her?”

“No. Orolian, we both know that Sophysa isn't the type to randomly agitate peop--”

“No. You know this. I do not. I could care less what that traitorous slut does.” Orolian gives Alerion a stern look.

“She's not a slut, Orolian. And she's not a traitor. She did not serve us.” The Hunter sighs, shaking his head, he knew he wouldn't have any luck discussing this subject with him. “I want to ensure this doesn't happen again. If not for her, for my daughter. Orolian, you must know something. Please, help me. I am at a loss of where to begin.” Alerion looks at his older cousin with hopeful eyes, if Orolian did not volunteer what he knows, Alerion would be at a loss.

“Let's just get one thing straight, Alerion. Any wretch who joins the Flamearrow House and leaves just as quickly because they 'do not like it' is no friend of mine. Why you still care for this woman, I do not know. But, the Necromancer that I had encountered is dead. If you don't believe me, look for his altar in Tanaris. I can—” The Rogue stops, and thinks for a moment, “Actually, I'll take you down there myself.”

_____

The two Flamearrows arrived at the desert as the sun was beginning to set. The air beginning to become more frigid as the time passed, though the weather didn't seem to bother any of the two. The area where Orolian had brought Alerion was a rather closed off area from the usual open areas of Tanaris. A cave, which spanned a base of 50 square feet. In the center of the cave stood an altar, though the Altar was completely empty.

“What in the...” The emptiness of the altar caught Orolian's attention. The cave's entrance was very well hidden, but whatever was on that altar could have easily been taken by bandits searching the lands for easy loot. The Rogue rushes his way down to the altar, his hands going over its surface as if whatever he was looking for may be invisible. “Fuck.” The Rogue mutters under his breath, as he looks around. He beckons Alerion down next to him.

“What's wrong?” The Hunter asks as he rushes down next to his cousin.

“When I killed the Necromancer, he had evaporated into a crystal.” The rogue looks at the altar silently, “I didn't pick up the crystal because I did not know what it would do. I was afraid, so I left it there. And now... Its gone.” Orolian looks around the cave, his eyes scanning every possible detail as Alerion does the same.

The cave was empty to their eyes, no evident sign that anyone had been in or out in a long time. The walls were scorched with what appeared to be gusts of energy, surely from the fight Orolian had with the Necromancer.

“This isn't right. Something's missing.” The Rogue walks away from Alerion, trying to think of what may had happened.

“Well if its not here it's long gone then.” Alerion mutters, and crosses his arms. “If someone else finds this, can they use the Necromancer's abilities?”

“It depends. It can grant them necromantic abilities, yes. Or it can empower their own abilities. Let's hope it was simply a bandit who found this. Because if it wasn't... And something attacked you...” Orolian blinks, “What? That doesn't make sense. Who would attack you... Who doesn't...” The Rogue looks to the Hunter, and they both look at each other with worried glances.

“Maybe another one of Xandiv's enemies?” The Hunter offers.

“Most likely... How many enemies did that damn fool have?” Orolian sighs. “Come on, let's get out of here----”

The Rogue is interrupted by a yell of agony from his cousin's mouth. The Rogue slowly turns his head, only to see a giant blade through Alerion's heart. The Hunter's eyes were full of shock, and fear. How did something manage to sneak its way at Alerion so easily?

To the naked eye, it appeared that only a random blade was stabbed its way through Alerion. But the perpetrator then began to slowly reveal itself, exposing its hideous torn body and clothing. The entity was decorated with a black, long flowing robe, followed by a black hood which covered its face completely. The only visible body parts were its hands and feet, both with the texture of rotten wood, and a wretched smell of death. A hand was extended towards Alerion's back, the blade growing from the base of its backhand and stretching three feet forward, tearing the Hunter's body apart in one silent slice.

A laugh could be heard from the shadows, as a figure slowly makes its way to Orolian. “Well, well, well. If it isn't my esteemed pet project.” The figure lets out a grin, teeth and flesh rotten, with a simple black robe to cover its wretched figure. A hood was placed over its head as well, but this one you could see its face, an elven face... A face Orolian thought was dead. Morsos Flamearrow, Alerion and Orolian's grandfather.“You didn't think you had gotten rid of me so easily did you? You may have managed to kill my father, but you failed to kill me, Orolian.”

“H-how?! I... That was three years ago!” The Rogue snarls, and unsheathed his daggers as his eyes look from the Elf to Alerion. The entity began to float, blade still stuck inside of Alerion, and placing his head on a spike close to the roof of the cave. The Hunter's eyes stuck open, but lifeless. The Rogue grips his daggers hilts tightly as he watches his cousin's corpse hanging above them like a simple toy to be played with.

When the entity had placed the Hunter on the spike, it retracted its blade – the steel going back into his skin like it belonged there. His skin stretching and repositioning itself to accommodate the blade's positioning in its arm. “Indeed. It was three years ago.” The Rogue returns his attention to the rotting elf in front of him, his body ready to lunge at any given second. The older Flamearrow allows his rotting grin to keep itself visible, as he chuckles darkly. “And as such, I have had three years to regenerate, to grow, to regain my strength. Your failure is one that I will make sure will haunt you for an eternity.” Morsos's voice rises in strength exponentially, “AS I BRING YOU TO THE SAME SORRY STATE I WAS IN!” The necromancer begins on channeling a dark-black green spell, the air around him seemed to retreat from the mere nature of this spell, as the glowing hue began to enlighten the entire room.

The Rogue silently watches Morsos, as he begins running to try and intercept the spell, allowing his body to teleport him through the shadows, arriving at Morsos's back within a split second, only to be intercepted by the same entity that killed Alerion seconds ago. In the blink of an eye, a blade found its way into Orolian's shoulder, digging into his flesh as if he were made out of paper. It stops however, before it could cut off his arm, to vanish again behind the Necromancer.

“How does it feel? To be powerless?” The Necromancer cackles darkly again, his spell fully charged by now, “Now, allow me to show you what true power is!” Morsos's spell is launched from his grasp, to the Rogue. The spell begins on tearing his body apart, the Rogue's inside feeling as if they were going to burst in pain. The Rogue falls, his vision going black as he hits the ground.

----

“Rise Flamearrow! Fight again, banish this evil!” A surge of light revives the Rogue's vision, as he quickly regains consciousness and stands himself up. He could not believe what he was seeing. Two Elves, decorated in gleaming plate armor, stood beside Orolian's body. Alerion was also beside them, black polearm extended and ready. The plate-clad Elves seemed surreal, how were they even there?

“Are you ready, brother?” The female asks, a grin on her face as Orolian silently stands. He receives a nod from Alerion, and a smile from the male plate-clad elf.

“Stands, son. This is not over yet.”

“Father...? Sister...?” Orolian blinks, was this real? Was Tylan and Avianara really standing beside him?

“Come on, Cousin. Don't question it, they revived us. They gave us a second chance!” Alerion grins. Orolian stands to join the four, only to look around to see dozens of entities similar to the shade that killed Alerion scattered around the floor. Only their robes remained.

Orolian nods, and the four walk in unison to another chamber of the cave, where Morsos stood, hunched over in pain and in a state of recovery.

Morsos's eyes were stuck on Tylan. He could not believe his son walked today in defiance to him. This couldn't be possible. A scowl was on the elder Elf's face. He was speechless – he had watched his son and granddaughter single handed defeat everything he had thrown at them. The amount of magic he had used drastically tiring him out.

“It's time you receive the reckoning the Light has placed on you, Morsos Flamearrow. The light's righteousness shall smite you, eradicating your evil from this world.” Tylan holds his two-handed claymore in front of him, ready to charge at any given second.

“NO!” The Necromancer yells, “I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO RUIN ALL I HAVE WORKED HARD TO ACHIEVE!” The Necromancer's body begins to glow the same dark-black green glow from before, “You will all die. And I will ensure you stay dead!” The Necromancer's entire body seemed to take place in the following spell, a howl of dark energy which was launched at the four Elves at an incredible speed.

Tylan and Avianara both stood at the ready, hands extended as they both, in unison, create a wall of light to shield all four of the Elves from the attack. Orolian, Alerion, Tylan and Avianara all stood unscratched when the attack had ended, and they all, in unison, approached the Necromancer.

“Impossible!” The Necromancer's scowl turned into an expression of utter fear.

“Son. You get the pleasure of sending his soul to the light.” Tylan nods at the Rogue, as his weapons begin to glow a bright white hue.

Orolian grins, watching the magic empower his weapons with unbelieving eyes. How this was happening he still did not know, but he decided to not tempt something that saved his life, and go through with the situation. The Rogue walks towards the Necromancer, “Morsos. Flamearrow. You made my life a living hell. Its about time you die for good!--”

“I will be back.” Morsos grins, creating a scowl from Orolian as the Rogue digs both of his daggers into the Necromancer's chest. He grips the hilts tightly, and pulls downwards, ripping Morsos's rotting flesh with absolute ease. Soon, the Elf laid lifeless, his chest torn in three pieces, as Orolian stands up, heart feeling as if it was running a thousand beats a minute. He receives a hand to his shoulder, as Orolian turns around to face his father and sister.

“What now?” The Rogue asks the two, hopeful eyes looking at the two as if expecting them to be able to stay.

“Now, we return to where we belong.” Tylan gives the Rogue a stern nod, as Avianara gives him a smile. The two plate-clad Elves vanish from sight, their radiating bodies leaving nothing behind but a dark, damp cave.

Alerion and Orolian look at each other, speechless.

“If anyone asks... We both didn't get our asses kicked down here.” Alerion offers at Orolian with a grin.