The Tides of War

On this cool evening, Verinnia Skye was out enjoying the beautiful sunset as she smelled the cool air. During her walk she came upon a smooth rock on the top of a large hill which was surrounded by trees. Feeling the refreshing breeze through her hair, and beginning to feel tired she took a seat on the rock, and began watching the sunset with a smile on her face, for the first time in a long time, but quickly faded as she remembered the recent events which had transpired. Thoughts of her escaping her containment, and running through dense woods flashed through her head which soon wiped the smile off her face knowing she will still be chased.

There wasn't even ten minutes after these thoughts when in moments a crowd of black clothed men swooped down around her. As if by instinct Hakumei immediately jumped backwards over one of the men prepared for battle, though how green she was; therefore, her face was filled with dire fear. "You are going to come with us, Ekibyo," One of the men said with a threatening tone in his voice.

"I don't want to go back!" Verinnia exclaimed with a tear in her eye, while the tone of her voice reflected her fear. "I'm done with the experimenting, the tests, and the holed up inside that sphere on energy every second of my life!" She yelled in anger.

"You have no rights. You are now an abomination that must be contained," A large man who seemed to be the leader of the group said. He began walking towards Verinnia, in order to keep her attention as if there was one thing she was good at she could escape. She's been doing it for weeks, escaping with ease each time she had been found. Within moments, another man approached from behind and tackled her to the ground. "Hold her down! We've got her this time!" He yelled as she was held down by two people. Verinnia struggled against her attackers, but to no avail. The men shoved her head into the ground hard to try to stop her from struggling, face now covered in dirt and tears.

"Are you sure this is Ekibyo, General?" A women asked to her superior. "We took her down fairly easily, and Ekibyo is supposed to be monstrously powerful "There's no way this little brat could be Ekibyo."

The general slowly turned towards the women who had began talking to him. He began walking towards the women and proceeded to punch her in the chest, knocking her to the floor. "You dare question my judgment, private?" he said threateningly to the fallen women. "She is definitely the one," He finished saying as the men began bringing out rope to restrain her.

Verinnia was able to let out a final scream of help, as loud as she could so that it echoed about the whole forest, but it had not lasted long as the general stepped on up and silenced her by hitting her over the head to which Verinnia replied with a small whimper of pain as tears still flowed continuously. "I can't take being there anymore..."

Little did the forsaken know that another wandered these forests, one they were about to meet. His introduction would be that of a whistling upon the wind, not one of the lips but rather something cutting through the air. A climax to the whistling would be met by a thud and a gasp of one of the ebony cloaked men. A arrow sticking out of the center of his forehead as was now laid upon the ground, lifeless. The arrow itself was clearly made of a dark brown wood, looking to be a footed arrow. The front part of the shaft had been crafted with a harder wood while the back half being crafted by a softer wood. The forsaken may not have picked this up, if they had they might have realized their attacker was an Elf. Whether it was a Sin'dorei, Kal'dorei or Quel'dorei would be impossible to tell, but only their race were truly known for such skilled marksmanship and craftsmanship of their bows and arrows. A second arrow had been fired soon after the first, marked by the same whistling announcing it's trail through the air. It's target had been the eye of a second forsaken, which it hit with precise accuracy. Just as the first, this arrow pierce through the brain, ending the this forsaken's undeath.

"Ambush! Defensive positions, we must get this one back to the Undercity. We must not fail the Banshee Queen!" The general showed no fear, it was an emotion that had died with the forsaken before they had been risen. What was shown was caution and anger; anger that the fact that someone would be so bold as to attack the Forsaken. An answer to this would be another arrow, narrowly missing the head of the general. So close in fact that it had cut his left cheek, no real pain being felt of course as the forsaken had no nerves to receive such. The attack was still unseen, invisible as he or she blended into the darkness of the forest. Perhaps there were more then one, a group even but none had been seen, not even by the eyes of the forsaken.

Those glowing yellow eyes could see through darkness as if it were the middle of the day yet they saw nothing. Nothing until another arrow shot from the woods, this one to the right side of their group, catching a third member straight through the temple, another kill. Who ever this was, or who ever they were, they knew how to end the 'life' of the undead skillfully. They clearly knew how to attack and stay hidden at the same time as well, but what was their reason; their goal for such an ambush?

Verinnia had clue what had just happened, but the important part was that their force lacked three members suddenly, two of them being the ones holding her down. In a sudden burst of energy, which blew forth from the palm of her hands, pummeled the last forsaken holding her down before she quickly got up and ran away, limping as she strode along. Almost instantly the general appeared right in front of her path as he announced, "Where do you think your going, you scum of Azeroth?" Before she could react a gun was placed into her side as she was shot through her side, but missing any vital areas. Verinnia dropped to her knees in pain as she coughed up dry blood as she chocked, "Wh-why? Uncle?" She could no longer move as she passed out while the man spoke, "I am not your uncle your filthy vermin." He turned to look out into the field as he awaited the next move from the dark woods.

The elf had moved around, watching closely from the shadows of the forest. At the sight of the gun he readied himself, using the echoing blast of the gun shot to mask most of the sounds of his movements. Moving swiftly, like the wind upon the plains, the elf made his way around the General and came up behind him. A dagger comes around his throat and one to his spine. In the swiftest of motions the dagger would slice through his neck, pulling hard and eventually severing the head while the other pierces the spine. As soon as this was done he would kick the body forward, the head rolling away.

The elf then looked towards the female forsaken, glowing green eyes being the only visible part of his face. Those dark emerald eyes pierced the darkness covering his features, his head was covered by a dark green wool hood with slits for his ears to poke out. His hair could be seem, hanging down past the shadows of his hood, a chocolate brown color to it. The hood drifted down his back into a cloak, ending a few inches off the ground and held together in the front by a golden chain. His upper body was clad in a dark brown leather tunic, finely crafted and tight against his body. His cloth leggins were of the same color of his cloak but of a thicker cloth. They met his boots which were, like his upper body, made of a dark brown leather that rose up to his knees. On his back with a leather strap coming around his chest would be the quicver that held a great number of arrows, just like the ones that had brought the death to the forsaken. His daggers were now re-sheathed in the front of his belt, also made of leather. At his hips were two sword, their blades hidden by their sheaths but could be assumed to be made of steal. The hilt of the swords were crafted from gold, rubies and emerald forged into the medal. Also around his chest was the bow, the string of the bow around his chest while the back of the bow (the wood crafted part) rested at his back. The bow it self was a recurve, build for power and range and crafted from a dark brown almost black wood.

The elf simply stayed silent, staring that the undead for a moment before moving to her. His eyes traveled over the wound. After a moment he'd reach into a pouch on his belt, pulling out a potion and pouring it over the hole. It might have stung, except she was undead. It was to clean out the wound as best as could be done for an undead before apply a bandage, wrapping it around her waist to cover it up. During all of this the elf was silent, the only sound coming from him was the gentle sound of his calm breathing.

After what seemed liked hours, Verinnia jerked awake and at the sight of this elf in front of her she attempted to back away, still remember the fear she just had moments ago, but as she backed up she fell onto her wound causing immense pain, which was followed by a yelp as she cowered into a ball while grabbing her side. The elf before her must of been quite bewildered as her eyes glowed like an undead, but why would she feel pain? It was at this moment that the sun began to rise as it revealed more of her features. Medium length red hair was a mess in places with one grouping of hairs still being tied into a ponytail which really brought out her long blood elf ears. Her clothes were ripped in many places, shirt dangling by strands. The mageweave cloth was barely covering her b-cup breasts as the frills of the clothing hung by her waist. Her short skirt was in ribbons as the black and white colors stranded together revealing her thin thighs where most of her stockings were ripped, but stable.

She turned her gaze from the bandage on her towards the man in front of her, and as her eyes locked directly onto his perhaps he could figure out what exactly was going on; indeed, her eyes were filled with the glow of an undead, but her skin and body while ignoring the most recent injuries, was nearly perfect as if she were alive, and strangest of all her wound actually seemed to be healing without the aid of magic. Many minutes went by before she spoke up, "Who are you?" She asked in a careful tone as she continued gripping onto her side.

The elf, after bandaging her had started a fire in the time she was out and was now sitting before it. A pipe in hand which was currently being smoked, the smell of tobacco rather then bloodthistle could easily be smelled upon the air. Still, the male did not take down his hood, silent as ever until she awoke. At the sound of her awaking he'd glance over to her, a thin brow raising below that hood, still he remained silent. Now watching her, eyes narrowing as he took in her features, noting she was clearly undead but also elven.

At her question he seemed to wish to remain silent, not speaking for what must have been at least five minutes. When he did finally speak it was in a low, neutral tone, "Who I am isn't important. We need to move now that you're awake, they will be sending more." At that he rose, snuffing out the pipe and placing it into his pouch. Despite his cold posture, the elf had many questions as to who this woman was, how she was healing but he did not voice them, not yet. This wasn't the place to question anything, not until they were safe. He'd offer a gloved had to her, to help her up and then motion for them to head through the forest and north to what could only be assumed as the direction to Quel'thalas.

Verinnia cautiously held out her hand as she blinked in loss. She silently nodded before being helped up although with a great stumble. She did not let go of his at first as if testing how well she could trust him, but let go after a minute. "C-can I trust you?" She asked as even herself noticed the stupidity of such a question. She looked all around to see if others were coming, but saw no movement. Little did she know that another grouping of forsaken were right on their way which this elf may have heard coming, but Verinnia began to trust him more as the thought that ran through her head kept coming forth, "It's better then dealing with them."