Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorblade]

Discussion in 'Fiction & Literature' started by kennotlah, Jan 22, 2012.

  1. Strange_Kid

    Strange_Kid Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

  2. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Act one scene 6

    "I see no problem with that plan. We don't want to train here too long. In fact I like your idea," Magina addressed his aide, whose face was in a deep shade of sunburnt violet and violently mopping at his face.

    They were in a large magical tent, Magina drank deeply from a flask of nectar wine. It was like a bubbling spring cascading down one's throat. Magina gave a sigh of relief. His aide drained another glass of the ice-cold ichor.

    "Magina, I'm just afraid that your brother and your father might not like it? When the mages came together, we thought that this place is simply too hot to train for too long. nonetheless sir, we are sill willing to do what needs to be done if you feel so," purred the aide.

    "No no no. I like your plan. I don't plan on staying in this place any longer. Father is away for whatever stuff he has to do and my brother can be coaxed into any plan as long as the majority appears to like it." Magina answered back loudly.


    Final Brief. Four nights before Exercise.
    "This training is called Securing the Well. The objective of the this training is to better equip our Sentinels to fight in hostile terrain. Our objective is to secure this magical well from enemies in the fastest possible time," Terrorblade read from a sheet of paper.

    The instructions came from his father's runner. Furion was too busy to tell him in person, instead he wrote down instructions for his son to follow and left to convene a meeting with the other races.

    It was the first time Terrorblade was speaking to so many officers. He intended to impress them and had spent an afternoon rehearsing everything.

    "Our fighters would charge for the well and secure it and prepare to fend off any enemies. Our mages would support us by casting their defensive spells in here."

    Terrorblade moved his carefully crafted pieces with precision. They have to be on the exact location as reflected on the map.

    The commanders sounded impressed. Terrorblade felt a distinct pride.

    "I disagree, brother."

    Terrorblade looked up, annoyed at the interruption.

    "Anti-mage, this is the plan. The objective is about getting our soldiers to be able to fight in this terrain," Terrorblade gritted his teeth.

    Magina stepped forward and pushed all his painstakingly placed pieces one side and rearranged it.

    What was his brother doing? Didn't Magina know that he was trying to follow orders given? Why was he trying to flagrantly disobey orders? Why was he trying to mess up his presentation!

    "Brother, this is quite simple. When we see an enemy encampment, my mages could just bombard the whole area. Their men die, their commanders die, everybody die. We end training and pack up," Magina flippantly moved the pieces around.

    Terrorblade's face darkened. Inside, he fumed. The way you put the pieces, it means that our soldiers positions are twelve leagues apart. Watch how you are handling that soldier piece. It's my brigade you are touching!

    "That is not the point. What if you run out of mana before our forces reach the well?" Terrorblade fought down his emotions.

    "Bro, You still don't get it. Let me give you another example. If we even see any enemy forces there, my mages could just bombard the whole area. Their men die, their commanders die, everybody die. If we run out of magic, we can use some of the magical energies at the well to stock up and prepare to defend."

    It made Terrorblade very irate.

    "That's Captain to you Anti-mage. Watch your tone, Anti-mage. I am your superior and I am not your brother here. Also your plan to bombard the whole area has a side-effect. You'll reveal our positions to all scouts who are watching. They might escape after the first volley and regroup and counter attack. We might not even have magical defense to help us."

    "You still don't understand. We have the well to refill our magical energies and if they come back we'll just repeat the method. Let me give you another example -"

    Irately, the commanders listening spoke up.

    "Sir, your mages could just bombard the whole area -"

    "Their men die-"

    "Their commanders die-"

    "Everybody die-"

    "See! They understand the plan!" Magina declared, geturing at his soldiers.

    Terrblade wanted to bash his own face in with embarrassment.

    "Sirs! If I may," it was a woman's voice, cold and forbidding.

    It was enough just to see the glint of her armour.

    Warden. Mortred. Silkwood.

    Both brothers gulped. There was a whimper heard. A snort of derision was heard from the audience. Only to be silenced by her stare.

    "This is a training exercise. There are no enemies to kill. Only mannequins we put up there. There is no magical source to restock your magic, just a dried
    up well to act as it. Would you just stop quarrelling and execute the plan Furion gave us?" Warden Mortred said irately.

    Magina wet his lips, sweat broke out on his violet visage. He didn't dare to say a thing.

    "Gentlemen, we have come into an agreement of sorts, now go back and prepare your men," Terrorblade spoke quickly.

    There was no argument and everyone was sent back to their tents. Only Magina, Terrorblade and Mortred were left staring at each other.

    Inside the elder Stormrage's mind, gears were churning madly.

    Why was a member of the Wardens in a Sentinel Excercise? Are they here to arrest someone?

    Mortred smirked and left.

    Magina stood up and said, "Captain, just do what you will. I have more serious issues to take care of,"

    Terrorblade slammed his fist against the table. His face was carved with rage and wounded pride.


    Terrorblade's weary sand-caked face peered out of his position. Faintly, he could see the outline of the well. THe wasteland was a huge plain. Moreover it exposed anybody or any armies on this place. A nightmare to defend or to set an ambush. No defensive advantage and no place to hide in.

    His men were crouched behind him, waiting for orders. Their violet visages ran with sweat while they clutched their weapons. Magina's mages were waiting behind, fanning themselves and looking frustrated.

    They were waiting.

    First light broke.

    "Follow me."

    Terrorblade charged, large moonblades slashing. Immediately he felt something wrong. The ground was rumbling. Huge carrion beetles burrowed out of the ground and lunged straight for his face. Terrorblade froze in shock, his defense momentarily dropped.

    His face was exposed to its deadly sharp pincers. He would die. Ignobly.

    The beetle latched on his face. He felt that sharp pincer feeling for his soft eyes to gouge out.

    Instantly, Terrorblade raised his blades and cut the beetle down.

    Terrorblade pulled off the dead beetle from his face. It was the size of a wolf. It was a nightmarish scene. Mounds and mounds of beetles swarmed out of the ground, attacking his men.

    Bloodcurling screams filled the air as the elves scrabbled at the dust to get the bugs off them. Impossible. This was supposed to be a safe training ground. Where did all the enemies come from?

    Terrorblade leapt after his lieutanent who was howling with many beetles attacking him.

    The body of the unfortunate elf shuddered and fell over in pools of blood. Terrorblade cursed in disgust. He slashed hard at the beetles, but they avoided his blades.

    Too slowly. He needed magic. Something to destroy his enemies fast. But he had no magic only his image conjuring tricks.

    Magina and his band of mages hurried from behind, blasting away thosed carapa'ced fiends. Just the sight of his brother stirred something in Terrorblade. It was as if something dropped out from under him.

    I should be the one who saving my men with my power.

    Terrorblade had no time for second thoughts. He brought down his blade on another of the fiends. He noticed that his brother was casting a spell. Magina's eyes were overflowing with auras of the energies he was wielding.

    The battle was over in that moment.

    Magina molded the magic into the form of a huge blade, glimmering and shimmering within a vortex of energies. Magina hoisted it up high like a flag standard. The brilliance from such a blade ceased most of the fighting as both sides stared at the magnificent blade.

    He drew a breath and exhaled - the energy blade shattered into a million pieces and went stright for the enemies. Every beetle was pierced, skewered and stabbed by the flying shards of energy. The men stared in amazement as the beetles assaulting them fell off.

    Terrorblade knew it for what it was. Shawa o l'acier - Shower of Steel. An elementary spell for combat mages, but no one could craft it the way Magina did. It wasn't just any normal magical energy being used. Magina used mana-burning energies to destroy these beetles, the impossible feat of using magic to contain anti-magic.

    The bodies of the beetles fizzled out in an instant.

    "They are magical contructs!"

    Someone had to be controlling them. Who?

    A loud voice called out.

    "Do not let that elf escape! He is a spy!"

    It was Mortred. She was sprinting after an escaping figure. Terrorblade followed suit. The escaping elf aimed a few arrows at them but they fell short.

    Terrorblade snarled and gave chase with all his might. Mortred was even faster. She drew a dagger and it hit the escapee on the shoulder. In a flash, she was by the elf and she pinned down the elf with a powerful armlock. Terrorblade was a few steps too slow again.

    "Finally, I found you. Clinkz. After hunting through among our ranks, I have found you," There was murder in her voice.

    Terrorblade ran to her side and watched as Mortred tore off the violet flesh mask from the deserter's face. It was the face of the blood elves.

    "Clinkz the Fletcher! What did you take? Who sent you?" Mortred demanded.

    The white-faced elf had a crazed expression in his face as he answered, "In the end all will bow before the one true king."

    Mortred threw Clinkz down in disgust.

    "He'll tell us everything after we interrogate him with my methods," Mortred said menacingly.

    Terrorblade looked all about him. He saw a large beetle in the distance watching them. It was way too large to be called a beetle. Rather it was the size of a Nerubian. Almost imperceptibly, almost incredibly the Nerubian nodded at Terrorblade, sending a chill down his spine. The next moment, it disappeared with the wind.

    Terrorblade shook off the feeling. He must be hallucinating.
  3. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    Strange_Kid, thanks for reading! One more Scene to the end of Act One
  4. Strange_Kid

    Strange_Kid Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    you're welcome lolz.

    I don't understand how a wolf-sized beetle would latch to someone's face ._. and to cut a beetle at your face with a moonblade is a bit hard to imagine. The rest is good.
    Nice chapter as always :D

    next chapter Terrorblade die? D:
  5. ZeLover

    ZeLover Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

  6. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Act One Scene 7

    Magina! Magina! Magina!

    Terrorblade was in no mood to join in the festivities. he didn't feel like it was his victory. Instead, he sat cross-legged in his tent, writing up reports.

    Outside, dancing figures around a fire threw long shadows flickering across his tent.

    A tent not set up by magic. But by the toil of his men who worked together fitting poles together, throwing heavy canvas cloth over it. What is the value of magically set up tent?

    There was the heavy sound of lifted cloth.

    Magina strolled in with a cup of nectar-wine in his hand.

    “What is it now?” Terrorblade growled.

    "Brother, come and eat and drink with us! Celebrate this victory!" Magina exclaimed in a tipsy smile.

    “Congratualations. You are using your gift with much better skill. Eventually you will surpass me, young Hero.” Terrorblade spoke quietly, scribbling more words on the report.

    “But Father dislikes this. He'd rather I pick up his boring magic gardening skills than practice the same sorcery he claims led uncle to the dark side,”
    Magina pulled a face.

    “Still, better is better. You have bested far more enemies than I did in combat. Hero,” Terrorblade said stiffly and scribbling some more, his hands gripping the quill too tightly.

    Frigid silence cut through the air. Magina looked bewildered.

    If the elder Stormrage was ever angry at his brother, he would scold him or smack him. If Terrorblade was sad, he would be in a deep meditative stance, brooding.

    "What is the problem?" Magina slurred.

    Hs twin brother ignored him. Magina snapped. He snapped his fingers. A tiny magical bolt zipped around and the quill in his brother's hands crumbled into

    Terrorblade drew his moonblade threateningly at Magina, the point pressed his neck. For a terrifying moment, Magina thought his head was going to roll off from his body but instead a mask of calm was worn on the elder Stormrage's face.

    Then there was a crackle of power. Magina sensed it, a power different from his own, supercharged the air around him. Magina shivered. Terrorblade sheathed his blade, the anger that briefly flared in his eyes were replaced with coldness.

    Impossible...Only he knew how to use magic.

    Magina willed his heart to slow down. He watched numbly as his brother noticed something growing on the ground and picked it up.

    It was a Snowpetal. That gentle delicate flower frozen by the snowy blizzards on mountain peaks. That frost-grown flora would only blossom after the harshest of blizzards passed. Its fate is a lonely one, it blossoms alone and is without family or friends until it dies with the rising of the sun.

    Magina knew what it meant.

    This flower is a crystalization of my brother's feelings.

    Magina stared at his brother numbly, his tongue and his words tied up in knots. What could he say? What should he say?

    Terrorblade lifted the flower to his eyes and gazed it. Gently, he began to recite,

    There is no hate, only joy
    Bless'd thou art among men and lords
    Hero of the dawn, Healer of realms

    My days are over.
    My hopes have disappeared.
    My heart's desires are broken,
    And I am but a shadow of my broken self.

    In his hands, the snowpetal wilted and its preciously brilliant petals fell, crumbling.

    "Lamentless Wake. You've always liked that poem..."

    Terrorblade looked away.

    "Aren't you glad that the day is won?" Magina pressed.

    There was no reply.


    Fierce eyes looked back. Tensions rose-

    "Magina?" a sweet little voice enquired from outside the tent.

    Magina battled the confusion in his heart. Should he stay and talk to his brother? Or go out to his beloved?

    Suddenly Terrorblade laughed, "My dear Magina, you cannot be always torn in two. You would have to choose to fall in love, leave the family, find your
    family. Yes and if you have to go. Leave."

    Magina had a pained expression as he left the tent. But there was a light skip in his step. Terrorblade watched the shadow of his own brother approach
    Shendelzare shyly and take her hand.

    Suddenly, the elder Stormrage felt very hollow and empty. He looking at them with a longing look.

    "Is this love, that once you have it, it is a burden. Once you don't have it you become lonely?" Terrorblade sighed, turning away. Terrorblade thought for a moment before he threw himself into his reports again.

    Before he could do that, Terrorblade sensed that compression in space-time. The very characteristic of Furion's Teleport.

    Light erupted, accompanied by a low drone of humming incantations. Terrorblade shielded his eyes. When the glare died down, then did he look.

    The archdruid was standing before him, dressed in his humble garb.

    Immediately Terrorblade stiffened and greeted his father cordially.

    "Father, what brings you here?"

    "I have heard your brother did a good work this day as well as Warden Mortred."

    Terrorblade's cheeks flushed for a moment. His name was not mentioned. He waited for that tone of disappointment.

    "It is a pity that my sons are not using the druidic powers to serve their people. Magina plays with fire by wielding the arcane magicks our people have sworn off. It is a good thing I still have you-"

    Terrorblade looked up, surprised.

    It was rare to hear his father favoring him over Magina, to top it off, there was that look of pride on his father's face.

    “My son, it appears that you have immense power over the forces of life. You have possibly become one of the greatest warrior we have against the Scourge."

    Was it delight surging through his heart? His father has finally recognised his ability. Seeing him as an equal?

    Terrorblade looked into his father's eyes. They were eyes filled with pride.

    "You might be suitable to be a part of the druidic order after all. Finally my son can carry on my legacy."
  7. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Alright. That's it for act one.

    Thanks for your support so far.

    Act Two is coming up.
  8. Strange_Kid

    Strange_Kid Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    nice job :D
  9. Kriegskanzler

    Kriegskanzler Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    Hello there. Before I begin, I'd like to tell you that I like to be honest with my reviews, so much so that they may sound sharp at times. Please note that I ddin't mean to offend you in any point of my review so take my word with a pinch of salt, ok? :D

    Oh, and I tend to type WoTs when reviewing. If I'd type in 300 words or less then my review may turn out to be half-baked praises or rude rants so bear with me. :)

    Now, I've only managed to read the first scene of the first act of this story. I haven't the liberty of reading all your work in one go so you would have pardon me on that one. And, if I may be a bit blunt, I wasn't really hooked to the first scene of the story. Here are some points I'd like to refer:

    1. One of the reasons my attention was not fully captivated is the lack of a background setting. You didn't indicate where they are, what the weather was like, was the place cold or hot, what the two people (Ezalor and the messenger) were wearing, etc. Things like that are not just for show. They're there to give the reader a complete picture of where the setting is. You decided to immediately go to the conversation, which isn't a bad thing, but to continue with this line for four paragraphs before describing the setting may leave the reader in the dark for too long. Let me cite an example:

    Notice that the setting was left to the imagination of the reader in the beginning conversation, and to let this go on for too long would make the reader take over the setting formation. I actually thought that Ezalor and the messenger was inside the hall of a castle, with Ezalor sitting on the throne. Turns out my guess was wrong. This takes me aback and forces me to re-imagine the scene with your description, only because you told of the setting a bit too late.

    If I may suggest a slight modification:

    Notice the difference? By moving the description of the setting into the first paragraph, you immediately give the reader a view of the place, without having to sacrifice your writing style, which was to delve onto the conversation early on.

    2. If you want to set the conversation tone into an archaic one, then please make sure it stays there. Don't suddenly move into informal speech without some sort of signal. It throws off the reading momentum more than you think. Look at this one here:

    Both Magina and Terrorblade, despite their clashing personalities and somewhat childish behavior (You managed to do that, yes, despite the semi-formal speech tone. Nice work), their speech is still formal, or at least structured. Suddenly, you give this two paragraphs later:

    The tone changed completely for both characters. It's as if from Game of Thrones, I'm suddenly reading Shonen Jump. Look at Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Animorphs, Kingdom Keepers. The characters in their change their moods but not their speeches. Harry, when joking, will give an interjection here and there but will still sound like Harry. There'd be no turnaround of his speech syntax.

    What if we retain the speech syntax? Let's see here:

    True, the sentence sounds overkill, but the syntax remains.

    (Yes, this point also applies for that P.E.R.V.E.R.T. acronym.)

    3. A good point I see in your work is the diverse personality of the twins. As I've already mentioned earlier, you've managed to portray the clashing personalities between the twins without taking on the stereotype. My point is clearly seen here:

    From their intro, the difference was already starkly notable but was inserted without force. The intro of the two characters was smooth, and their personalities showed even without the use of an exposition.

    This was the high point of the text, your ability to enter a character and immediately give the reader a glimpse of their personality. But don't overdo this, lest you lose speech syntax and you'll have the point # 2 problem again.

    Apart from these points, there are some grammar issues here and there but that would be nitpicking. Just watch your punctuation and your tenses. They don't seem to be your strong suit.

    The premise of the story is missing, i.e. there's no visible plot yet, but it ensures a diverse pool of developments. That skirmish Ezalor mentioned, what was it about and how could it help in plot development? The warden elf, and why was her introduction so brief? These are all potential points that could turn out big, so I guess I'll be looking forward to reading more of your work.

    P.S. Don't assume that the reader know the actual WC lore (even if they do). Refer to each part as if its new, if you have to mention it, e.g., don't assume that each reader knows the history of Furion and the wars he suffered through. If you want to highlight a specific part of his history, then ease it in and note it.
  10. ZeLover

    ZeLover Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    Last edited: Mar 7, 2012
  11. ZeLover

    ZeLover Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    There is no hate, only joy
    Bless'd thou art among men and lords
    Hero of the dawn, Healer of realms

    My days are over.
    My hopes have disappeared.
    My heart's desires are broken,
    And I am but a shadow of my broken self.

    Wait a sec... That reminds me of something.. "FF7: Crisis Core"?

    There is no hate, only joy
    For you are beloved by the goddess
    Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds
  12. Strange_Kid

    Strange_Kid Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    wtf? -,-
  13. ZeLover

    ZeLover Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl


    At 0:50
    Last edited: Mar 7, 2012
  14. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Act two scene one

    The Samarindian Forest is simply not the kind of forest idealized in poetry. When it was day, the forest was too humid with too many insects buzzing around. When it was dark, it was freezing cold and water condensed on the leaves and dripped on anyone taking shelter. One does not simply walk into a forest like this.

    Plop. Plop. Plop. Magina regretted not carrying a tent. He rested under a strangely shaped tree, one that looked like giant ferns grew out from an oak tree and began counting the top spots for self-cultivation recommended by druids.

    Father might insist that any place is a quiet place for a druid to inhabit, but there were one thousand four hundred and fifty six recommended places for self-cultivation in Kamlindor alone from the popular best-selling scrolls penned by Lestrac the Keeper of the Grove. His brother was not in any of the one thousand four hundred and fifty six recommended places for self-cultivation.

    Yet, it was this forest that Furion sent Terrorblade to. Terrorblade was relieved of his duties as a Captain of the Sentinels and sent to this forest to acquire druidic magic.

    Learn the truth, his own father's words.

    Magina felt that it was stupid and took too long. Arcane magicks were better. Faster and easier to mold.

    Magina followed the magical tracker he conjured up just to find his brother. Blood calls out to blood. With a vial of his blood, he sprinkled it on an enchanted compass and followed. Where the needle pointed was where his brother was.

    This is magic. Nothing complicated. No risk of fickle weather and no pandering to obstinate weather. Magina read a co-paper written by Lestrac and Ezalor on the different methods of spellcrafting, they took multiple days of debating over the advantages of their own methods and agreed to disagree. Complete hogwash and two volumes of wasted paper just to say that spellcrafting is dependant on the individual.

    When Magina rested enough, he got up and began following the path that his compass was guiding.

    This is problematic. He didn't think it through very well.

    His spellwork was impeccable. But Magina didn't think of enchanting his artifact to be able to detect how far he was from his brother. They could be either as close as one tree away or a continent away.

    The path led through too many bushes and overgrowth which he had to hack through to find his brother. Hack and bash for four days. Magina found his brother on the fifth morning.

    Terrorblade was sitting on the stump of a tree in a meditative stance, dressed in ridiculous clothes made from leaves. His face was deeply engraved with intense concentration or it could be a symptom of constipation.

    “My brother has gone loopy since I left him,” Magina thought to himself privately, he cleared his throat.

    “Ahem, brother, I do not wish to interrupt your quest for the truth... however duty calls. We are at war again.”

    Instantly, the contracted expression sprang open into a hungry look, “Again? Those treacherous - then I must return to my post as Captain of the Sentinels.”

    Magina tried to say something but something held him back. His brother turned to him, all druidic demeanour abandoned. His eyes hungered for information.

    “What happened to the truce?” He quizzed Magina.

    “I am afraid that it is a long story – We will speak while we walk. Do you remember our correspondence?” Magina quizzed his brother.

    Terrorblade shook his head.

    "I remember I sent you letters by a flying courier," Magina furrowed his brow.

    Magina watched his sibling fish out a sheaf of unopened letters from the hollow of a tree, the wax was sealed tight.

    “Brother! Flying Couriers are not cheap!”

    “What? A druidic life is meant to cut away all ties from a messy world.”

    “Those letters should tell you the whole story. I came here to tell you that you are needed and to pass you a scroll of town portal. Father felt that a messenger should be sent.”

    “Then let him send a messenger. Or mail me one via a flying courier”

    “I came here to send this message is because we are brothers and I thought I should personally see how you are,” Magina said irately.

    “You talk too much like a girl. Did your new fling with Shendelzare teach you that?” Terrorblade ribbed his brother. Magina's face darkened.

    The elder twin teased his brother gleefully, "No? Are you so irritated because she left you for another man?" Terrorblade threw back his head and laughed.

    Magina gave his twin a rude gesture. Magina pulled away from his brother and went straight for a clump of trees. He sliced his hand through the air and the air fractured, creating a gap in reality, no it was no gap, Terrorblade mentally corrected himself, but Magina's legendary Blink technique.

    Terrorblade watched his brother disappear in a blink.

    "Why so serious?" Terrorblade protested to thin air.

    He was mildly irritated at being a toad in the well; cut off from the world. He ripped open the most yellowed letter and began perusing them.

    Dear Brother,

    It had been a month since you left the Sentinels on your quest for druidic knowledge.

    I have not been idle. We had begun crackdowns on Scourge infiltrations thanks to knowledge of that spy who goes by the alias Fletcher. He is a known terror notorious for murder and grave robbery crimes. Warden Mortred and Shendelzare were the ones who brought him in and we are questioning him with regards to the plans of the Scourge.

    You have to finish up your quest soon. We have an exciting newcomer, She is known as Luna the Moon Rider. She has shown her capabilities and Father is pleased with her. She has the backing of many of the Moon Riders and they would be a good addition to our forces. She is currently filling in for you. If she does her job any better, you might lose your position.

    Ha! I know you wish to cross swords with any skilled warrior. I daresay she is quite skilled, though not as formidable as Warden Mortred.

    I have endeared myself to the Silkwood family. Though both Shendelzare and Warden Mortred were orphaned at birth, they have formed some kind of a
    family between themselves.

    Mortred is surprisingly quite friendly outside of her formal capacity. Sadly Shendelzare is often busy with leading the Wardens, so I would often visit her manor to find that her sister Mortred is there, if not preparing for some top secret mission, then she would be preparing for the next top secret mission.

    Hah! Mortred even declared me to be the best of nobles. Furthermore she announced that if you had even half my qualities, she'll gladly wed you on the spot. For there are few warriors who have manners.

    In fact, the good news is that I have promised myself to Shendelzare. To be hers forever. So you can have her sister if you clean up your act.

    So brother, you should get yourself some manners and some skill with magic and you'll get a woman for a wife instead of two moonblades. The thrill your sword brings you does not compare to the thrill of a lady's touch.

    “Bah! If I had half your effeminately perverted love for magic, I won't be a warrior.” Terrorblade retorted under his breath.

    As for myself and Shendelzare...

    The tales of his courtship grew too nauseatingly long-winded that Terrorblade opened another letter instead. It was from an old advisor of his. Terrorblade asked him to keep him informed about world events when he was gone. But he got too caught up with refining his newly found talent that he forgot about them. With keen interest, Terrorblade began poring over the reports. There were only grim news.

    Rumours of an undead abomination was wandering around the borders, the cries of its victims being butchered, dismembered and horribly defiled had struck fear in the local populace. So much so that they named the horror The Butcher.

    The most famed lieutenants of the Scourge were rumoured to be marshalling foul beings into their service. The most dreaded Lich, Kel'Thuzad and the shadowy Nerubian Assassin, Anub'arak were spotted by spies to be very active in gathering armies.

    To add on to their troubles, a being of the night has been inflicting heavy damage by decimating the night watches. No one could see it coming. When it did, too many valiant soldiers fell victim to it. It was attacking Origrimmar for one week and the other at Theramore and next it attacked Darnassus. This nocturnal assassin was terrorizing patrols that took place at night.

    Some superstitious folk chalked it up to vampires. But Sentinel Intelligence
    called it the Night Stalker and put it on its Dangerous Beings list, on par with the demons from the Burning Legion. Demon Hunters had to be sent out to hunt this being down.

    Finding a large stump upon which to sit, Terrorblade thought through all his wonderful plans.

    His own father's recognition of his talents was a big coup for him. Being sent for training had given him time to seriously consider what he was hiding in his mind for thirteen seasons. He had always been disadvantaged when compared to his brother. No matter how hard the elder Stormrage trained, no matter how he honed his image-conjuring skills, Terrorblade could never defeat his own brother in a single duel. Both he and his brother loved the thrill of battle since their youth but neither would acknowledge the other as his superior.

    Magina always won because he had magical ability and the ability to burn away magic. Images that he summoned were easily dissolved by such magic.

    Even if his twin didn't know it, Terrorblade was secretly tracking their kills in battle. He could still remember the day when his men honoured him as the Terrorblade, so much so that his own name was soon forgotten. He was a hero, slaying so many of the dreaded enemies so easily. He was proud of himself that day. Very happy that his strenous training paid off with the destruction of the enemy.

    That was until Magina's petition to serve as a sorcerer was approved. Magina's performance in battle was so spectacular that it forced Furion to reconsider the fact that the arcane artes can be as powerful an asset as the druidic artes. He was a one man army. The undead horde cannot hold up against Magina who seemed to be beyond a magic-user. He seemed to be more like a fountain of pure magic. As powerful as Furion himself.

    Terrorblade trained longer and harder, in order to outdo his brother. But flesh has limits that magic does not. Terrorbalde thought to himself bitterly.

    Terrorblade could still remember vividly the welcome Darnassus threw for them upon their return.

    "Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live our heroes! Terrorblade has slain his thousands! Magina has slain his ten thousands!"

    Terrorblade felt his stomach knotted tightly that day as he put on a smile to please the crowd. He was the older brother and he should be the stronger one.

    Now with his newfound talent in controlling life energies, he had the power to surpass his brother.

    Terrorblade could show his people that he can be their mightiest hero and general. He would single-handedly destroy all the mighty generals of the Scourge. He would deliver his people. He would be their saviour.

    Deep down something nagged him. Of all the druidic arts, he seemed way better at honing his movement of life energies than his abiliy to communicate with the elements or with the trees. It somewhat disappointed him that he was not going to be a super-druid his father was.

    He brushed these doubts aside. He will eventually surpass his father too. Even Furion recognized his power. That had to count for something.

    "Yes...I will slay our enemies of our people and they would know that I am the much better Stormrage." His eyes thirsting for praise.

    Images of vast crowds praising him gave him a drunken thrill; praising him more than his brother, that was truly delightful. To add on to that Magina, had to grudgingly acknowledge that the elder Stormrage was the superior fighter.

    The elf clapped his palms together, shaking the vision out of his head.

    "There should be no jealousy among brothers... So cut this foolishness out!" he muttered to himself.

    Terrorblade picked up another letter to read.

    Dear Brother,

    Current events has been a most disturbing one for myself and everyone in particular. I will narrate to the best of my ability.

    I woke up to a normal May morning in my own bed; my entire room was littered with crumpled sonnets I was trying to write to praise my beloved. I heard the turtledoves singing outside and I swore I heard, a hint of a crow's cry- Surely it must be a bad omen.

    The elder Stormrage groaned, “Brother, you are tedious!”

    My thoughts weighed with thoughts of my beloved-

    “I hate lovebirds,” Magina's brother growled.

    Father came into my room suddenly, he had that look of constant worry on his face. The recent events must have been on his mind, especially with our forces weary from going on multiple skirmishes. I tried to hide the sonnets, but he already saw them.

    “Who are these addressed to?” He asked me. He still does not know of me and Shendelzare. You know how hard it is to deceive him. He had already suspected that I was in love but with whom he knew not.

    After all we hid many secrets from him as children. Remember the time we blew up a tree? I thought that Father being an Archdruid would find out. But he didn't. Surprising.

    “I wrote them to Warden Silkwood,” I answered

    There was this sudden excitement in his eyes, like breaking dawn.

    “Are you engaged to be married?” Father asked me directly.

    “Ah-ah-Yes...” I admitted. Marriage was a little fast.

    “This is excellent news to ponder over. Excellent news indeed,” Father mumbled to himself as he left for work.

    It was a few weeks of normalcy until Father summoned me to the library. After we were seated and some small chatter, he finally broached to me what was on his mind.

    “Son, you know that our forces are being stretched too thinly from multiple skirmishes to various disturbances at our borders.”

    I nodded.

    “We stand to gain from increased support from other sources than the Sentinels. I do know that the Wardens are quite partial towards us. In fact leaders on both sides are mulling over the idea of a possible integration of both forces. This would be much to our advantage as it can free up some of our soldiers.”

    I just nodded some more.

    “Son, this integration has been dragging at its heels for quite some time. I believe a certain union between a Warden Silkwood and a certain Stormrage could hasten the process of a merger.”

    Needless to say I was speechless.

    “I think you could get ready for a wedding,” Father beamed.

    I thought Father was jesting.

    A month later, while I was giving a lecture to trainees on the Artes of Magic, a messenger barged into my class and handed me a

    I opened it and read:

    Come down to the glens outside Ashenvale Forest.
    Warden Mortred Silkwood wants to discuss about the marriage.


    It was written briefly and with brief consideration, I dropped everything I had.

    When I arrived at the glens of Ashenvale Forest, a stag sent by Father led me to a large Hunter's Hall. The whole place was reserved just for the purpose of this engagement. You have never seen the inside of a Hunter's Hall I presume. It was a hall with many pillars and long tables used for our soldiers' messing and for them to do an occasional trade or two.

    I saw Father seated down at one side of a large oaken table and on the other, Warden Mortred.

    Warden Mortred wore an inscrutable look on her face, like she was trying to figure out Father, while Father himself looked entirely too pleased with things
    that were happening.

    I took a seat at the left side of Father. Watching intently what was happening. Warden Mortred was eyeing me with that strange look. I somehow could just 'See' it, that she doubted. The airs about her I interpreted to be severely uncertain about a certain issue.

    An issue between unthinkable bliss or a cruel jest. Now that I think back about it.

    Father cleared his throat. “I have already quoted the bride price and Warden Mortred Silkwood accepted it. Name the day and you shall be wed, my son.”

    Foolish joy overtook me. The gullible me was taken in my fate's cruel twist. I leapt for joy.

    “Yes!” I cried in joy. I swear I believed that I was to be wed with Shendelzare.

    What dismal fortune seized me that day! In that cursed moment, I heard a sob break out and I saw Shendelzare break out from behind the pillar she was hiding and ran out of the Hall, her tears falling like a broken string of pearls.

    I also saw that Warden Mortred's face was struck with wonder and disbelief.
    I immediately turned on Father. Who-was-still-smiling!

    “I am really glad that you have shown a liking for Warden Mortred Silkwood. Both sisters would scarcely believe me until I produced one of the crumpled
    sonnets you littered on the floor. The one you wrote in her honour,” Father declared pompously.

    I was at a loss for words.

    Warden Mortred's face was a mask of composure. Yet I could read in the air she carries about her, that she was happily confused. She reached out a hand to grasp my own. I did not take it.

    Instead, I answered in agony, “No!” I was crumbling on the inside.

    Father replied, his composure cracked from uncertainty, “No? Son. You are to marry Warden Mortred Silkwood.”

    “NO! I never wanted to marry her! I won't marry her!”

    Father thundered, “Fool! What madness is this? You are spoiling the potential merger between the Sentinels and the Wardens with your tantrums! One moment you wish to marry and now you say no? Shall I beat you with a cane you naughty rascal!”

    “I WON'T! I DON'T EVEN LIKE HER!” I yelled back.

    I heard a tensed and angry voice.

    “You heartless creep... How dare you play with our feelings... How dare you Magina Stormrage ... How dare you hurt my little sister...”

    There was murder in Warden Mortred's eyes.

    “I-I” I stammered. The truth of the situation came to me like a lightning bolt, razing the ground it struck. How blind was I?

    Warden Mortred gave a cry and I felt intense pain. I stared at my thigh, it was bleeding. That crazy woman stabbed me! Mortred's hands ran red with my blood.

    “How could you...” Her eyes glittered in pain. “be so cruel. Trick me into thinking that you loved me.“

    I croaked, “I'm sorry. I only loved you as a sister. ”

    Mortred cursed me.

    “Warden, Warden. My young one is quite foolish, not yet used to the customs of the world and the necessities that leaders need to make. Please stop this. The union can still go on as planned. The elder one might be more-” Father tried cajoling her.

    “What! Father!” Terrorblade was outraged.


    Warden Mortred made an angry choking noise. She marched up to me and slapped me hard. Twice. She immediately left the Hall, calling for her sister to return.

    I ran after Shendelzare.

    “Ah my goddess,” the elder Stormrage gaped like a dim-wit.

    Oh my goddess. What happened? Even Father was quite surprised at the way things went. I explained to him what actually was going on. He was not amused. He thundered that family should not keep secrets from each other.

    I remember that Father gazed at me with his horns bristling.

    “You should have went meditating with your brother. At least he obeys the proper customs that I have laid down thousands of years ago. You and your reckless pursuit of the arcane artes! Didn't you know how much I grieved over my brother's magical addiction? How sad it was to know his eventual fall? Do you really want to end up like him?” He ranted.

    Thank the goddess I was able to explain this to Shendelzare. Thank the goddess that she understood and forgave me. What would I do if she hated me?

    Now, as I write this, Father appears to be vexed over how to appropriately handle the gossip that would spread throughout the whole of Darnassus. The Wardens won't overlook this slight to their head warden. They are ridiculous proud of being a respectable and independent military force.

    Mortred is violently opposed to me courting her sister now. I worry about that a lot. But I love Shendelzare too much to let this stand in our way. I'll do all I can to mend bridges.

    “Just marry the both of them.“ Magina's brother proposed idly.

    It was as if Magina never sent the letter, and continued to write where he left off.


    A terrible thing had happened since that engagement. With neither sister even willing to be near me, it took me several weeks later to learn that the
    criminal known as the Fletcher was broken out from the deepest dungeons.

    They must have the help of the Scourge. Those abominations defiled the Wardens guarding them and slew them afterwards, following which, with their twisted hearts and evil magicks, they raised our fallen into their vile undead.

    Shendelzare, thank the gods, was not around when it happened. The moment she heard of such this prison break, she mustered the largest task force of Wardens ever deployed and went in to secure the prisoners and suppress the riot the Undead Scourge caused by their break-in.

    Those vile things, not happy with descrating our dead, they have unloosed terrors that we have kept locked away from the world.

    Her sister, Warden Mortred came later. According to Shendelzare, she was gripped with a certain mad vengeance after she witnesses the dying throes of her Wardens who were slain by the escapees and by the riot they caused.

    Rumours began spreading about how she indiscriminately slaughtered every of the escapees not in their cells. People are now saying that she has gone really crazy and would start a war to avenge her fallen sisters.

    Terrorblade felt a chill went down his spine.

    Father already has plans for you. You might have to come back as a Captain of the Sentinels.

    Your Brother,
    Last edited: Mar 18, 2012
  15. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    Long post. Thanks for reading.

    To Strange Kid and ZeLover on that last post

    ZeLover is quite smart. Look out for more stuff like this. :rofl:
  16. Strange_Kid

    Strange_Kid Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    I lol'd. Hard.
  17. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Act Two Scene Two

    Night had fallen upon the Arcane Library. Ezalor's study was lit with a single lamp. Three silhouletted beings sat around a table. All three of them wore powerful illusionary enchantments in order to conceal their identities against any forms of spying. It was a meeting of the highest priority and of utmost secrecy. A secrecy that bordered on paranoia.

    "This is paramount to a declaration of war! The Scourge attacked the Burrows. Broke out the most dangerous criminals we held there and slew our people. This is unacceptable!" Furion fumed. The druid's long antlers bristled and the air was thick with his rage.

    "I agree, Shan'do. We cannot sit back and let this offense against the Sentinels go unavenged! We have to defend our homelands!" Leshrac spoke up, he was one of the esteemed Keeper of the Grove.

    "My friends, you have every right to be outraged. If the Scourge have done this, it is an obvious act of war. But do we have enough resources to fight back? Or should we just let it slide?" enquired Ezalor.


    Leshrac slammed his fist against the massive oaken table. "What kind of a message will we send the Scourge if we just let this matter slide? That they are free to attack us? First my grove then the Wardens? Blood for blood, old friends, the Wardens' spilt blood cry out from the ground for justice!"

    "A hot temper does not suit a druid my old friend," Ezalor tried to calm him down. This old friend of his seemed imbalanced, the Lestrac he knew had never expressed so much hatred before.

    Did the invasions at Leshrac's grove affect him that badly? The archmage knew that the powers of the Keeper of the Grove was often tied to their land they safeguarded. But he didn't expect to see Lestrac be angered at an attack to his grove like it was an attack to his own body.

    "Very well, we will and we must retaliate," Furion said sternly, "We have to support each other through this. In fact, I have a plan that might work..."

    "What could it be?" Ezalor probed.

    "You'll see. Send for Warden Mortred," Furion ordered grimly.

    Click click click. Steel capped boots marched smartly into the darkened room. Mortred walked in and gave a nod to the three elders.

    "Shan'do Stormrage, are there any instructions for me or my wardens?" She asked curtly. Her expression was stiff and controlled. Too controlled.

    The three shadowy figures looked at her with an appraising eye. When they were satisfied, it was Furion who spoke first.

    "Warden, the elders have come to a decision after a swift assessment of the attack on the Burrows. It was an unlawful act by agents of the Scourge and tanamount to an act of war since the truce-"

    "I will bring these criminals to justice..." she breathed harshly.

    Furion averted his eyes from Warden Mortred's face. It was frightening to look upon her face. It was a malevolent war god, thirsty for revenge. The rumours must be true.

    The Scourge attacked the Burrows with a small army. All the warden sisters were brutally murdered and then defiled. Those who managed to evade the Scourge were assaulted by the unleashed convicts that the Scourge released.

    "These are top secret orders known only to myself and these two. Hunt down Clinkz at all costs. Execute all who allowed him to break out of prison," Furion spoke grimly.

    There was a bestial grin in her gaunt face. Furion sensed that Mortred would relish this chance at revenge too well. He shuddered. Thank the goddess that Mortred was on their side.

    "You have fourteen days to assemble your team and eliminate Clinkz. Destroy the army that broke him out- No. Make sure that none of them will walk this world ever again."

    "Utter destruction? That is very unlike you, Shan'do Stormrage," Ezalor said sharply.

    The immense nature of such a task gave Mortred pause. An assassination team sent to destroy an army of undead? Impossible.

    "Clinkz stole the most vital information we have, if the Scourge knew what we were trying to do, they would send armies to destroy the Sentinels, triggering an all out war," Furion said cryptically.

    Mortred didn't even bat an eyelid, "So I need to get him before he gets to the Scourge. Done."

    "Assemble a team of your finest people to make sure you get him. Activate the COBRA force. A man-hunt for Clinkz is your cover to eliminate anyone who possesses the information. Any information about the World Tree," Furion added.

    Leshrac gave Furion a warning look. Furion brushed it aside.

    Mortred stared at them suspiciously.

    "I do not like what this sounds like. My Wardens are being manipulated by you. In fact, Shan'do Furion I cannot even see the faces of the other two elders here. Who are they and what are they doing here?"

    Ezalor winced. Mortred was not politician material.

    "Then consider it a mutually beneficial arrangement. We three elders demand the heads of Clinkz and all those involved in the escape and you get your revenge," Ezalor interjected.

    Inside, he was glad his identity was concealed from Mortred. The Warden might figure out everything too soon. Too many people knowing about the secret would doom their plans.

    "We won't forget the loyalty you and your sisters have shown to our cause. We will stand by you. We will protect you. Even to the very end," Furion assured Mortred.

    The Warden nodded back at Furion before leaving.

    When the click of her boots vanished, Ezalor breathed easier.

    "My old friends, we have work to do. I suspect the Scourge is marshalling its forces at their borders as we speak."
    Last edited: Mar 25, 2012
  18. Strange_Kid

    Strange_Kid Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    you talking about the tormented soul? His name is Leshrac.
  19. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Re: Am I my brother's Keeper? [Magina and Terrorbl

    noted. my bad
  20. kennotlah

    kennotlah Well-Known Member

    Act Two Scene Three
    It was noon time when the Night Elf expeditionary force stopped at the outskirts of Silvermoon to set up camp.

    Furion pored over maps laid out on the table while advisors surrounded him, armed with reports and plans. Magina was tasked to organize the elders. The large tent was a huge buzz of activity. Magina heard one particularly round colonel listening to the drone of his aide and gave his poor aide so much work that Magina had to wonder how much work did the colonel actually do.

    The druids were no better, finding fault with many parts of the plan just because they refused to defend Silvermoon for their own political reasons.

    “Come now, young Stormrage. Shan'do knows that I have my grove to tend to and with the incursions from the gnolls-” began Leshrac the Keeper, Magina couldn't help but feel aggravated. What a pushy druid!

    “-I cannot simply tear myself away. The spirits there would fall into disorder and destruction.”

    “Reverent One, You have to realize, this is war. We rely on you and your armies of living trees in the war effort. Frankly, I think your spirits are kind of...” Magina paused. He wanted to say 'not real' but he stopped himself on time.

    “ to be not harmed by the spades of gnolls and might be not real...” Magina ended weakly.

    He winced, the angry looks of various elders were turned upon him. Huge brows furrowed menacingly, as if ready to whip Magina. Unreal spirits? Blasphemy to the druids.

    Crash! A table flipped over spilling papers and candle wax on the floor.
    Everyone jumped and looked for the troublemaker.

    "Who is it? Who dares to stir up trouble in this meeting of elders? Who is that fool?" Leshrac demanded.

    "I did."

    Terrorblade scowled at them. His hands hovered over his blades, ready to duel any who dared challenge him or his brother.

    “Druids, stop this incessant quarrelling!” Terrorblade thundered. Other druids began muttering darkly in the background. 'Daft' and 'hardheaded' escaped the lips of the druids.

    Those old fools, so set in their ways that change was near impossible for them. Magina sighed. They would chew his brother out.

    To Magina's surprise, Leshrac rode up to Terrorblade. Leshrac's shadow towered menacingly over the defiant Terrorblade. Any moment now, Magina thought, Leshrac would flog Terrorblade with a scolding.

    “May the spirits guide you brother, on your process of enlightenment. To see the illusionary nature of this world,” Leshrac began his druidic greeting grudgingly. The Keeper of the Grove touched his heart with his root-like hands and then extended it to Terrorblade. A greeting among druids.

    Terrorblade clasped the Keeper's root-like hands and touched his heart with his hands. A mask of geniality came over him.

    “We are all companion spirits to each other, we know you are hurt from leaving your grove, but the Frozen Throne has threatened all life. They war against us all. We have to put the good of many over the good of a few.”

    There were murmurings of agreement among the druids. Some seemed impressed.

    “But the innocents at my grove -” Leshrac began.

    Terrorblade could not stop. His speech rose up another pitch.

    “The Scourge broke the terms of the armistice. They launched a cowardly assault on our prisons with intent to lure highly dangerous individuals to their
    cause. Madmen bent on destruction and power. This is our enemy. Mad. Destructive. Power-hungry. My friends,” Terrorblade raved, enjoying every moment of it.

    But Lestrac still had a sceptical look on his face.

    "Sir, do you think only druids suffer and only druids care? Let me show you. Yes even our unranked soldiers care. Even the least among them also care what happened," Terrorblade spoke scatingly.

    The cheering of the druids further energized Terrorblade. Magina watched his brother, spellbound by his fury and charisma. Even Furion and all his advisors looked on in amazement.

    Lestrac folded his huge arms with a challenginge eye. Terrorblade nodded, his handsome features were now stern and passionate.

    Terrorblade walked out of the tent. He marched up to a soldier and took from him his trumpet and blew three short blasts. Soldiers seated by fires looked up, soldiers in tents walked out and soldiers sharpening their weapons sheathed them. Everyone gathered about Terrorblade like a huge mass of green and violet.

    Terrorblade gazed at them with passionate eyes and spoke in a high reedy voice,

    "My brothers and sisters-in-arms. I am but only one elf in this fight and I have nothing to offer you but my sweat my tears and my blood. We fight because we must. We fight so that we can return to our lands and heal it. Heal it from the destruction that the Scourge caused. We shall show the Frozen Throne justice. That we won't stand for our people to be oppressed by the Lich King's tyranny."

    “Defenders of Nature, rise up!” Terrorblade roared, his voice was like a whirlwind. No one could even cross him or slightly disagree when he was in such a frenzy.

    There were loud cheering in the camp as all the fighters, invigorated by the rousing speech, stood ready to wage war.

    A messenger broke through the crowd and yelling loudly.

    “Warden Mortred has returned, my liege, with all the escaped prisoners. I must see Furion at once! Give way I must see Furion at once!”

    The crowd fell silent. Even Terrorblade was struck dumb by such a sudden appearance.

    A tall figure with antlers and adroned in a drudic dress of green and gold stepped out. Furion

    “How did she and her warriors fare?” Furion asked.

    “Badly, Shan'do. She is badly wounded and the only one left alive. There is a dark madness about her. She took down many of the escapees herself,” the
    messenger breathed heavily as he announced the news.

    Unbidden, Magina glanced at his brother. The elder Stormrage was tensed. Even though he hid it well, Magina spotted the surge of magicks in his brother.

    It was a nightmare world outside the camp. They had set up camp in the outer-edges of the forest. A long dirt trail led to the camp and was heavily policed by sentries.

    Magina could see a pillar of dust rising up in the air.

    There was a lone and battered warrior rode on a huge beast through the cloud of dust. Crowds of renowned warriors trembled at the sight of her. They parted, leaving a large and wide dusty path for the lone Warden.

    There was this aura about the Warden. Deadly. The hearts of the most stout froze as she passed. The most chivalrous dared not approach her, for such was the aura of vengeance about her.

    Warden Mortred sat on the lead horse while a kodo beast dragged the barrow along. A huge heap of her fallen comrades were put in the burrow and a cloud of files hung about them. Trailing behind the barrow was a grisly sight. The heads of every single undead that attacked them were strung together and dragged along the dust.

    Every head brutally hewed from their bodies. The last of the macabre trail
    of head was the head of the Fletcher, the flesh of his face torn by dust and friction. Magina's stomach turned. This was purely barbaric, purely vengeance. The Warden brutally butchered all of the prisoners who escaped.

    Warden Mortred was an equally bad sight. No lady should have to suffer what she went through. Blood and green pus was oozing from her wound. She was
    ripped by the thrust of a nasty weapon, taking a chunk of her body with it. Her armour was crumpled by the impact of a devastating blow.Yet for all the
    horror inflicted on her, the true horror was within. Her eyes were the most fearsome of all.

    It was as if she was possessed by an avatar of vengeance.

    Magina was truly frightened by her eyes. Magina shrank back.

    The elder brother showed no such qualms. He rushed forward and cradled her in his arms. With great ferocity he drew from deep within himself, the brimming flow of vitality, his soul and life. Terrorblade rushed to Mortred and plunged his healing energies into her.

    She gasped and moaned and shuddered. Her wounded started to mend and scab over. In a few moments, her wounds were completely healed. There wasn't even a scar.

    When the Furion Stormrage tried to heal a dragon friend from a mortal wound, the sheer amount of power needed not just knocked the druid out but also the
    land about him withered to give life to the dragon. Terrorblade merely swayed at the sheer exertion of such intense healing.

    That was immense healing power. Immense power over life.

    The crowds were hushed once more.

    "Healers, bring this soldier to a healer!" Terrorblade groaned weakly before passing out.

    Furion quickly took control over the situation.

    "Men, bring them to the healers! Hurry!"
    Last edited: Mar 26, 2012