Happy Birthday to me! And in true Hobbit fashion, I have a present for you, rather than one from you to me! A new chapter! Please R&R, and enjoy! Socials in my profile page, come and see about hanging out more and getting some of the other content that I produce! ~F

Chapter 139

Isle of Quel'Danas

Draco sighed in relief as he entered his parent's home. He had his own separate apartment in the Trade District, but it felt much better to spend the day in the warmth and comfort of his parent's home. It had been a long day, overseeing Anduin's instruction and overall acting the part of both magical advisor and bodyguard of the Prince of Stormwind.

If anything, Matthias Shaw had become even more overbearing when he approached Draco with the added task, which albeit didn't change what the Pureblood had already been doing, but now he was more than certain that SI:7 was watching his every move while he was in the Keep or moving around in the city.

He couldn't even be sure that his apartment wasn't compromised, but he was more than assured that the magical stronghold that was Lucius' and Narcissa's home would keep out even the most determined of eyes.

Entering the sitting room, his eyes immediately fell on his baby sister, as little Aurora spun to face him, "Dray! Dray!" she cried, clutching both hands toward him, demanding to be lifted from the ground and held.

The innocence of the little girl, her dress covered in fluttering butterflies, melted his heart, and Draco consented, hefting Auroa into his arms and spinning her once in a circle. She squealed in delight, clapping enthusiastically and burbling baby-speak nonstop.

"Draco, welcome home," Narcissa said, entering from the kitchen, a smudge of flour on the blue apron she wore. Draco would never get used to the idea of his stately mother as a normal homemaker, in addition to her other duties and political dances among Stormwind's nobility. "She really loves her big brother…" Narcissa commented, seeing how comfortable Auroa was in his arms.

"She knows she has all Malfoy men wrapped around her fingers," Draco replied, "we would go to the ends of the earth to make her smile."

"Have you seen her latest achievement?" Narcissa asked, turning toward a small side table. Curious, Draco walked over, where a handful of crystalline butterflies had been delicately carved. They were extremely intricate, and Draco wondered what his mother was referring to in regards to his sister.

Slowly, realization dawned, and he stooped a bit to see them more clearly. "Transfiguration, at her age?" he asked, glancing at his mother, amazed.

"Aurora knows what she likes, and she wanted butterflies," Lucius said from the entryway, also just arriving from business out of the house. "We have therefore conceded to her wishes, and will be stylizing everything for the next several years with the insects…" Narcissa gently slapped at his arm, even as Lucius smirked at the success of his gentle teasing.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Draco added, smiling as he remembered how dragons had covered everything he had owned for at least the first ten years of his life. Thankfully he had finally let go of the obsession, almost, before going to Hogwarts. The teasing for needing everything to be dragon-related would have been mortifying.

Growing slightly more serious, Draco turned to his father, "Who is monitoring Nobu'tan, if we are both here," he asked.

"Lord Nobu'tan directly told me to take some time for myself," Lucius replied, "What he is up to, and not wanting to be controlled in handling, I do not know, but I trust that others on the Council will act in the best interests of us all as a whole, preventing Nobu'tan from doing anything too serious."

"Do we really think that anyone else has the ability to tell him no and get away with it?" Draco challenged, and knew the answer from the grave look in his father's eyes.

"I hope that nothing of great consequence will occur, but I am still keeping tabs on some things…" he said, which told Draco exactly where and with whom his father had been meeting.

Draco could tell from the slight strain in Lucius' jaw, however, that it was unlikely to be the case, and Nobu'tan had set them aside on purpose expressly to do something outrageously dangerous without risking their safety.

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The sea air was brisk and cold, even as Nobu'tan watched the land pass by as they sailed northward.

It hadn't taken nearly as long as he had thought to get together, and set off toward the northern isle. He strongly suspected that this route, hopefully, would catch any of the other factions off guard, as there had been a massive flash of Fel energy from the location to signal to the entire world what Kael'thas was up to.

"The fool…" Nobu'tan breathed, thinking of the mad Elf Prince. Likely he had already started on trying to summon Kil'jaeden into Azeroth, and brought forth demons to hold the Sunwell itself, in combination to what few Elves he had left under his command.

Removing Kael'thas from the equation was paramount, and he would target the prince first when they arrived, and then only afterward deal with the larger threat of the Legion. As they passed by the ruins of Zul Aman, Nobu'tan felt his hands clench over the wooden railing of the ship. The orcish sailors wouldn't have took any notice, but he dearly remembered what had happened here less than a year previously, and the devastation that had forced the Amani back into the Dark Horde.

Soon they would be avenged, in part, on their hated foes among the Blood Elves, when the last of the Sunstrider line was dead.

From this point on, they had to move swiftly and cautiously. The lands of Quel'Thalas had been reclaimed by the Blood Elves, and there likely were eyes everywhere watching the coast for this very event, thinking that the Dark Horde might attack them from the sea.

What would they suspect, seeing a single ship flying the colors of the Stormreaver Clan, passing right by their ports and other equally useful landing sites, Nobu'tan wondered? Would they even consider that Quel'Danas was their goal, or would they ignore the reasons and simply launch their own ships to sink them?

Still, he would proceed undaunted, even if an entire navy came to prevent their access northward. He was not opposed to eliminating those that stood in their path, however innocent they might be. Better that a few perished, rather than let all of Azeroth be threatened by the advent of the Legion.

Mercifully for the Elves, they did not send ships after Nobu'tan. In fact, it seemed that all activity on this side of their lands was muted, as though something else drew their attention. Nobu'tan wouldn't be surprised if they were mounting their own assault, in conjunction with their allies in Kalimdor, to breach the island from the south.

Judging from the lack of ships here on the coast, it was likely the Elves were using their fleet to blockade the isle, and would be landing Kalimdor Horde forces from the air.

"Captain, be wary as we approach the isle, there may be an Elven blockade to break through," Nobu'tan said, causing the grisly Blackrock orc to smirk toothily at the thought.

The lack of a massive incisor made Nobu'tan wonder if this half-blind orc was a former member of the Black-Tooth Grin Clan, which had been absorbed into the Blackrock and Stormreaver clans when Rend Blackhand had perished.

Tossing the notion aside, Nobu'tan returned his attention to the sea. Soon enough they rounded the northern part of Quel'Thalas, and the isle came into view, rising majestically into view as the sun glinted off the golden domes of its structures.

As predicted by Nobu'tan, the Thalassian Royal Navy surrounded the isle, smaller destroyers patrolling the waters while larger battleships were anchored in ports and off the coast. Whether they were manned by Kael'thas' elves or by those of Silvermoon, it really didn't matter. They would be in the way of the Dark Horde landing.

"Hold on t'ya tea cups, We be goin' straight through em!" the Captain bellowed at his crew, who all took to the weapons of the ship. Nobu'tan had personally seen to their renovation, and the large cannons would be an interesting sight to behold when they matched against the weaponry of the elves and their ships.

At a brush of magic from the ship's warlocks, the runes all along the masts flared to life, green Fel powering them to erect a demonic shield around the ship as it pushed forward into enemy held waters. The Elves, predictably, started a bombardment, trying to dissuade them from entering weapon range, but there was no stopping them now that they had arrived at the isle.

The first shots, those that weren't intentionally wide, shattered off the Fel shield, opening the way for their new guns to retaliate. Lacking the range that the trebuchets had, these Fel cannons, repurposed from the design of the Legion in Outland, made up for it in the speed at which they fired their projectiles.

Molten green balls of iron were blasted out of the ends of these weapons, and tore lines across the open air as they sailed toward their intended targets. The masts of the Elven ships snapped like twigs, spraying the decks with splinters.

"Rush the beach!" the captain bellowed, and the ship lurched forward under full sail, pulling past the burning Elven vessels.

"Prepare to disembark, you're going in hot!" the Captain commanded, turning to Nobu'tan. The Grand Warlock nodded. It made sense that the ship would not be able to remain if the isle was so heavily guarded. Better that they make their way inland and fortify a small area to launch their operation from.

Apparently, the sudden blast of their cannons was enough to rouse the others, and Voldemort, Teron, Teg'Ramm, and Blaise all emerged onto the deck. "Captain, just skirt the beach, then return to Arathi. I'll teleport us to a prime location." Nobu'tan instructed, already channeling the Arcane.

There was a good location, just past the sand of the beach, where a scant handful of trees would provide cover from the anchored ships battering their shield.

"Stand close," Nobu'tan ordered, and allowed the arcane to pull them all from one location to another. He had been studying the traveling magic of his homeworld, and through those techniques had modified some of the arcane and Fel's already capable abilities. Group teleportation was one of these abilities he had achieved, and once they landed on the ground, they were able to take cover and watch as their ship slipped out of the blockade and away from the isle just as swiftly as it had entered.

"Quick as a dagger in the back," Blaise commented, which caused Nobu'tan to smirk. It was high praise from the assassin at the daring maneuver from the orcish captain.

"Come; let's move before they send ground forces to scour the beach." Nobu'tan said, turning to quickly scan the nearby area for a place to hold up and plan their first move.

"Yes, Lord Nobu'tan," Teg'Ramm replied, taking point and leading their way up the ridge on the far side of the small knot of trees.

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Blaise was the first to crest the ridge after Teg'Ramm, and he quickly swept the valley beyond with a critical eye.

The small Blood Elf village had been most certainly deserted for a long time, but the chaos of battle there now would do effectively to disguise that fact. Demons were spewing from the northern side of the island, out of the massive building which radiated magic, and clashing with soldiers from the south, appearing from portals and leaping from dragon hawks on the southern port.

It did lead to a particular problem for them, however. There was no secluded place on the small island for them to lay low and strike from the shadows.

"We'll have no breather on this isle," he informed Nobu'tan when the Grand Warlock arrived beside him, "We have to make a move and take somewhere to hold up if we are to have any ground at all."

Kalimdor Horde forces had started to trickle in with the Blood Elves of Silvermoon, and their warcries pierced the air as they charged on wolf-back into the fray before them.

Nobu'tan watched this neutrally, his mind clearly hard at work to think of a solution. His eyes rose to the far side of the isle from them, and a large cliff where some manner of observatory had been erected. "How about there?" Nobu'tan said, nodding at the building.

Blaise scrutinized it. It was separate enough from the rest of the isle, and in an ideal location to defend if necessary. Additionally it was perfectly positioned to keep watch on the rest of the isle, and the sea to the south, which was the most likely avenue for any advance of their enemies.

"It'll have to do, but I dare say we'll have to win it by force…" Blaise agreed.

"Then we had best prepare to face whatever lies in there." Nobu'tan said, already channeling arcane magic once more. It took several tense moments for Nobu'tan to safely teleport the five of them to the other side of the pitched battle.

Once they landed, well away from the fighting, and past the last of the villages building, there was only a steep climb up a paved road to reach the terrace. There were some Blood Elves, each bearing the mark of Kael'thas Sunstrider, and they moved swiftly to engage them as soon as the Dark Horde party was sighted.

"Enough!" Nobu'tan bellowed, freezing the Hawkstrider Riders with a burst of magic, "We are sent by your master's masters. You will take us to Prince Kael'thas, or die painfully and slow."

Whether they were cowed into obedience by the rush of Fel power from the Lord of the Stormreaver Clan, or else the threat had enough weight to stick, Blaise couldn't be sure, but it was enough for the Elves to lower their weapons.

Then again, the grim look from two Death Knights, an ogre warlock, and the two disguised orcs may have been enough for even the more fanatical of elves to reconsider their chances.

Nevertheless, the elves turned aside, and gestured for them to lead the way up the hill. They followed behind, at a safe distance; thinking that they could at least survive should the Dark Horde members wished to eliminate them.

Not that that was the case. They climbed to the entrance of the terrace, where more guards waited, nervously watching the battle back in the center of the isle. Those following behind them quickly exchanged words in their own language, which Blaise did not know, although he was sure that Nobu'tan knew it, from the smile he wore as they conversed.

Still, they had no real reason to try and oppose them, especially as they knew Kael'thas was here, and while any greater subordinate would have likely refused them, Blaise wondered if any of those who remained even knew that Nobu'tan and Blaise had met with Kael before.

The only thing that may have foiled their entry would be if they sent a runner to wherever Kael was hiding, and got word from him directly. Alas, it seemed that they were going to do that exact thing, and Blaise caught the sidelong look from Nobu'tan, indicating that they would be fighting their way in.

Stepping forward to where the Elves were still speaking Thalassian, Nobu'tan interrupted. "We have no time for your prattling, if you will not permit us to see your master, on behalf of the Legion, then we will cut you all down and go directly ourselves.

This time, however, it seemed that these new guards were under stronger orders, and would not budge on their duty to keep out outsiders.

They drew their weapons, and in an explosion of flames, they withered away as gouts of Felflame consumed them whole.

"It was a boring conversation anyway," Nobu'tan said casually, strolling over the ashes and entering the Terrace, "We have little time to beat that runner to Kael…"

Blaise did not need telling twice. Surrounding himself in a cloak of blackness, and the charms of their homeland, he darted forward at full speed, weaving through the ranks of soldiers that were already gathering in response to the shrieks of the outer perimeter guards.

Teg'Ramm's roar was more than enough of a distraction to keep even the most observant Elf from noticing Blaise's shimmering outline passing by them.

The runner had only made it as far as the next structure after the gatehouse and its causeway. It was child's play for Blaise to catch up with him, with all the warriors' eyes focused on the towering ogre advancing on their front lines.

They all leapt back in surprise as Blaise revealed himself, pouncing upon the back of the poor elf and skewing him through the back with both daggers. The secret information that he carried died with him as the young male Elf screamed his last, and Blaise tore his blades free.

The others took a moment before reacting, and tried to fall upon the assassin en mass, but with a shimmer of shadow magic, Blaise warped himself back to the defensive line behind Teg'Ramm, while a small force of demons helped clear the causeway of Elven fighters.

"It is done," he said softly, and Nobu'tan nodded, "Kael will be blind to who exactly is attacking."

"Good," Nobu'tan replied, "Then I feel no real reason to delay the moment of reunion with dear Prince Sunstrider…"

Blaise instinctively stepped back as the Grand Warlock started to draw an enormous amount of Fel energy into himself from the Nether. Even the two Death Knights and Teg'Ramm took note, and edged away, raising their own guards as Nobu'tan rose from the ground, raw demonic magic pouring from his eyes and hands in waves.

"Tremble, ye Elves, and despair!" he intoned, unleashing a concentrated beam of Felflame, which tore through the ranks of advancing warriors, and scorched even the enchanted stones that made up the bridge they stood upon.

"What is this!" a voice from the next building shouted, heralding a blood red Elf, complete with demonic horns, as he emerged from the structure. "Such richness of the Fel, I must taste of it!"

The Elf bolted directly into the second blast of empowered fire, but for whatever reason, he strove through it, without being consumed by the flames. "Yes! I am a GOD!" the Elf cried, Fel magic radiating off of him, leeched from the warlock's attack.

His way, however, was blocked thoroughly by the imposition of two Death Knights in the path of the rampaging Elf.

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Voldemort knew that this new creature was something that would actually produce a threat to Nobu'tan and the other warlocks of their little band. While he had no care for the living, he had no desire to be stranded here, away from his followers, in the middle of three factions fighting for the fate of this world.

Besides, he had developed something of a fondness for Nobu'tan, more of a persistent interest in the chaos that seemed to follow wherever the warlock turned his gaze than actual affection. It was a phenomenon that even the former Dark Lord of the British Isles couldn't help but be fascinated by.

In life, Voldemort had devoted himself to researching all manner of obscure magic and rituals, mostly for the pursuit of his own immortality, but he had found many other things that were now lost to the universe, like dust in the wind.

There had been rumors of such things, curses that followed a family, or an individual, through their lives, infecting every aspect of their daily routine, but something on this scale was something even beyond that.

And for the sake of this personal interest, allowing Nobu'tan to die was unacceptable. Voldemort was certain that his private research, among all the other things that a union with the Dark Horde offered was worth the little indignities that came along the way.

The Elf met his and Gorefiend's blades with his bare fists, enshrouded with Fel magic and strengthened to resist even the runeblades and their cutting power.

Together, the pair of Death Knights was just enough to hold back the magic-obsessed Elf, throwing him back a step and interrupting his charge into the fray.

Blightbringer gleamed with greenish blood, which also streamed from the hands of the Elf. A curious thing, but Voldemort was more concerned at this moment how to put this obstacle in the ground for good.

It seemed that the wheels in the ancient Death Knight, Gorefiend, were similarly turning, and their combined command over the dead reached out across the causeway, littered with perfect vessels for their wrath.

The dead Elves arose, the green of their eyes overridden by the piercing blue of the dead, and leapt upon their former commander.

The Elf yelled, soon overwhelmed by the sheer numbers arrayed against him, and the dead bodies lacked the magic that he could sustain himself upon by way of his unnatural powers. "No! I must have… more... power!" he managed to cry, before being smothered by the writhing mass of ghouls and skeletons that had been raised to fight for the Dark Horde.

The causeway was now clear, and the undead milled about as Voldemort turned his attention back to Nobu'tan. The Warlock was gazing down over the causeway, where even more if these irritating Elves were assembling, mainly spell casters in various states of Fel corruption, and readying for the battle that was as they supposed upon their gates.

"I do not have time to strut through this entire place, searching every inch for Kael'thas…" Nobu'tan said, opening his palm, facing upward, and conjuring several observer eyes, each of which flew in a different direction.

"Blaise, you will go with Teg'Ramm and cause as much disruption to those fools below us," Nobu'tan ordered, his eyes flittering and flashing as he absorbed information from the various eyes all at once.

"Teron, Voldemort, send out all the legions of the dead you can raise, I want this place cleansed from our foes as quickly as possible." He added, smiling as he found the one he sought. "I will deal with Kael'thas alone…"

Without another word, the warlock leapt into the air, wings tearing into life from shadowy mist as he soared over the wide of the causeway and out of sight.

"That boy never does anything subtly now, does he?" Teron said, the warped voice only briefly betraying amusement.

"No, I daresay he's got a streak of theatrics a mile long…" Voldemort replied, pointedly looking away from where the warlock had gone. He didn't agree with Nobu'tan taking the needless risk of confronting the mad Elf alone, but was not in a position to prevent him from going on and doing it.

"We had better hurry to catch up to him before he makes a complete mess of it, then," Teron said, and if there hadn't been a massive wrap shrouding the hooded skull that made up Gorefiend's face, Voldemort could have sworn he was smiling at him.

Nevertheless, the ancient Death Knight was correct. With a twitch of his hand, Voldemort sent the legion of undead ahead, with orders to kill every Elf on sight.

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Lor'themar could feel something very off, the moment he set foot on Quel'Danas. The remnants of the Silvermoon Royal Fleet had already encircled the island, working to prevent any demons or Kael'Thas' loyalist from escaping the isle, and despite a small incident with a Dark Horde vessel that was eventually forced away, there had been no real issues with that blockade.

The presence of the Dark Horde was unsurprising, and Lor'themar expected to see a strike team of theirs somewhere on the isle in due time, but the lack of any attempt for the Elves and their demonic allies from leaving the isle was unnerving.

Word had already reached him that the rest of the Horde was rallying their strongest warriors and champions to help stem the tide of Kael's forces and demons of the Burning Legion. Additionally, there had been rumors of a movement in Outland; warriors from Shattrath City, former loyalists of Kael that turned on him in the midst of his campaign, were returning to fight, alongside the Draenei who followed the Naaru.

That was comforting. Shortly after the massive blast of power from Quel'Danas, Lady Liardrin had come rushing into Sunstrider Palace, speaking of a theft from Silvermoon. A captive Naaru, which Prince Kael'thas had gifted to them in order to help stave off their starvation from magical withdrawl, had been taken back by the prince and brought to the isle here.

He had sent Liadrin to Shattrath to beg for the help of the Naaru there, as well as forgiveness for their part in the torture of their fellow being.

"Lord Regent," a Farstrider scout said, approaching Lor'themar, "Alliance ships on the horizon."

Grimly, Lor'themar turned to see the massive blue sails approaching with all speed. He had feared that the Alliance would come, seeking to stop the Legion as well. Those of the Horde would be hard pressed to contain themselves against their hated foes, even with the threat of the Legion hanging over them.

But before he even had a moment to dwell on the potential problems that could occur, a blast of Light magic erupted from the center of the port of Sun's Reach, just off the only settlement on the isle.

"A portal has opened," a Magister told him, explaining the burst of magic.

"A portal from where though?" Lor'themar asked aloud, although he suspected the answer. The radiance of holy magic could only be explained by two individuals. Either a Naaru had come, or the mysterious prophet of the Draenei.

Lor'themar heavily suspected the former.

But even as he started to move forward and investigate, a cry rang out from the square, and the bellowing roar of countless demons. This had been planned, of course, for them to be battling so out in the open here, north of the Sunwell and on the opposite side of Silvermoon.

They had to keep the attention of the demons away from expanding the hold southward; otherwise they could easily follow the Dead Scar back through Silvermoon, and finish what the Scourge had started so many years ago.

Lor'themar wouldn't allow it, and had done everything in his power to keep the fighting here, between the Sunwell's rear entrance and Sun's Reach port.

But now, reinforcements had arrived, and they could consider their strategy to actually fight back, rather than just holding the line and probing their enemy's defenses.

Dashing outside, he loosed an arrow into a Felguard's armored skull, toppling the creature swiftly as moving on to the next beast in this most recent push on their held territory.

"For the Light! For the Naaru!" bellowed a deep voice, and Lor'themar almost wheeled around as a Draenei, fully armored in plate mail, swung a massive hammer into the next demon before him.

More Elves, bearing the same golden crown on a blue and grey field, leapt behind the Draenei, unleashing their own arrows into the horde of demons. Lor'themar was stunned at the sheer size of the arrayed host, consisting of both races, yet acting united by the common purpose of stopping the Legion.

"Bala'dash Lor'themar…" a familiar voice said, drawing the Regent Lord's attention to the nearby arcane sanctum.

"Voren'thal?" Lor'themar said, turning to look at the famed Magister, leader of the largest block of defectors from Kael'thas' Outland forces.

"In the flesh…" the elderly Elf said, leaning on his staff, "How do you fare, tied up in the mix of all this unfortunate business."

"Silvermoon has seen better days," Lor'themar said, hinting at the truth they were both sorely aware of. "This is only the latest in a long series of tragedies."

"Well, hopefully we of Shattrath and the Shattered Sun's Offensive will relieve some of the burden." Voren'thal said, "Fear not regarding the two Hordes, and the Alliance. They will set aside their differences with us acting as the driving force for fighting against the Legion and the traitor, Kael."

"Whatever you have planned, it should get a move on soon," Lor'themar said, glancing in the direction of the Alliance ships, "I trust that your peacemaking skills will be needed very soon."

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Teg'Ramm was already in motion as soon as Nobu'tan gave the command. Heaving himself over the side of the causeway, he slammed into the gardens below, startling the assembled Elves surrounding the nearby fountain.

"For the Dark Horde!" Teg'Ramm bellowed, leveling blasts of chaotic magic at the nearest two magisters, knocking them backward and out of the fight before it even began.

In a flash of steel and Fel, Tenebrous was among the others, a blade buried in the breast of one Elf paladin, and flames scorching the face of a female warlock.

Soon enough the small group was dispatched, and in the process they had garnered the wrath of the other pockets of Elves, as well as demons and a small group of Naga, Satyrs, and Broken Draenei in the center.

At their center, lording over the others was a Shivarra, the demonic-priestess seeming to relish the attention and authority that she possessed over the surrounding beings, "I could have sworn there were more of you…" she said, tauntingly.

Whatever sort of response she expected, receiving silence and the readying of weapons was the opposite of it, the snarl that followed would have singed even stone if the Shivarra possessed such powers.

"Annihilate them!" the demoness shouted, sending the others around her into a frenzy, and they charged at Teg'Ramm, baying for blood.

But, interrupting their advance, Nobu'tan himself swooped overhead, low enough to dart under the roof of the awning that supported the causeway they had entered from, and bombarded the advancing forces as he flew past them and into a small doorway beyond them.

"Oh the horror…" the demoness said, glancing at one of her fallen comrades, her gaze cold and uncaring despite her words.

The others, outraged at the loss of one of their own, were torn with trying to pursue Nobu'tan, and continuing their advance on Teg'Ramm and Tenebrous. The Satyr, along with a small Outland ravanger, leapt forward to engage them, the horned semi-demon loosing a poisoned arrow at the ogre lord, while the small beast attempted to bowl the smaller warlock over.

The arrow found purchase in Teg'Ramm's arm, but the poison was burned out of his body by the Fel pounding through his system, and he roared in defiance, crashing forward and striking out with his staff like a club. He bashed in the skull of the Satyr, shattering one of the horns and laying the hoofed creature flat on the stones.

At the same time, Tenebrous slaughtered the little beast companion, before twisting and throwing his blade into the throat of another Elf, preventing the mage from casting a single spell.

"Well," the demoness said, almost simpering, "aren't you lucky?"

Another massive wave of Elves tried to press their way forward, and create a buffer between Teg'Ramm and the demoness, but he would not permit it. Throwing a massive hand to the air, the ogre mage was mildly surprised at the swift response as an infernal meteorite slammed down in the midst of the Elves, crushing some and knocked most from their feet.

Tenebrous, taking advantage of the opening, and struck like lightning. A wave of small throwing blades flashed outward, slaying many of the Elves as he darted through them, aiming for a shimmering creature wrapped in bandages.

The creature flailed backward, trying to evade the speeding assassin, but to no avail. In a flash of magic the creature exploded, leaving nothing but the raggedy bandages on the ground.

"Now I'm getting annoyed!" the demon said hotly, stepping forward slightly, before restraining herself and permitting the broken Draenei to leap ahead and attack in her place.

Tenebrous spun out of the way of the crude axe that the Draenei wielded, twisting nimble around the weapon and lunging to try and score his own blows. Teg'Ramm's infernal had the other Elves in check, crushing and burning those that had survived its arrival, and that left Teg'Ramm to contend with the demoness directly.

He launched a bolt of Felflame, but the Shivarra conjured a shadowy shield around herself, blocking the spell completely.

The demoness returned fire with several shadowy curses, but they failed to pierce the Fel-empowered hide of Teg'Ramm, which gave him time to swiftly advance, nearly reaching where Tenebrous battled with the Broken.

The assassin's opponent made a mistake as Teg'Ramm passed, trying to lunge at the ogre and hinder him from continuing toward the demoness. Tenebrous capitalized on that blunder, and stabbed the creature in the back, dropping it to the ground like a stone.

"Lackeys de damned!" the demon shouted, drawing a pair of swords in a flash of Fel flame and lunging at Teg'Ramm, "I'll finish you myself!"

Whatever strength the demoness possessed, she clearly underestimated what the Fel ogre Mage could bring to the table.

Tapping into only a portion of his restrained might, Teg'Ramm caught the two swords on his enchanted staff, and heaved upward. The demoness was thrown backward with great force, shrieking in sudden surprise as she struck one of the pillars of stone with a deafening smack.

The head snapped backward, and the demon crumpled to the floor, green blood already flowing from where she had struck.

"Not what I had… planned…" the demoness muttered, her body already smoldering in the manner that demons did when they were returning to the Nether, in their semblance of death.

The rest of the Elves had been slain or driven away, leaving the pathway open to follow Lord Nobu'tan, and "Come. If we hurry we may catch up to him before he confronts Kael'thas." Tenebrous said.

Teg'Ramm nodded in agreement. He did not feel well allowing Nobu'tan to confront the cornered Elven Prince alone. There was no knowing what exactly the Mage, now devotee of the Legion, might do if threatened in such a manner that Nobu'tan was sure to pursue.

Together, the pair of warlocks dashed through the ring of corpses, heading for the golden arch decorated with silks and other fine cloth. Teg'Ramm had no personal care for such things, but he did note that Tenebrous paused to examine the items before following behind.

It was a tight squeeze for the massive ogre, but with a bit of magic from the Fel, and some clever contortions at the corners and through the archways, Teg'Ramm was able to navigate the hallway and enter the chamber at the end.

There had been guards in the immediate room after the hallway, but the ashes and burning green flames told of a story of death and destruction, cumulating with Nobu'tan standing just before the end of the room, at the top the stairs into the main part of the room, where Kael stood hotly.