Friday, April 1, 2011

The First Day of Spring

The sun shone brightly upon the swaying grass, bathing it in nature's warm glow. Small spots of color bloomed hither and fro. Fulguralis pranced alongside his beloved, arms spread wide happily. It was a perfect day.

Winter had been long and hard. Toiling in the perpetual snows of Northrend had taken its toll. Then, they had come back to find their very homes under assault by a dragon aspect. Yes, it had seemed a long winter indeed.

But the threat was ended. For some adventurers it might still live on, but in the mind of the Warlock, it was finished. His part in the tale had come to an end. He had his Fuubaar, and all was well. The only burden they carried currently was that of a wicker basket. It was a great day for a picnic.

They chose a spot beneath the boughs of a majestic tree, where the sun's strong rays were mostly impeded by the foliage above. There, with bits of light dappling their faces, a blanket was spread out on the ground. Food was unpacked, and they began to feed one another bits of cheese.

A swirling portal suddenly appeared to Fulguralis's left. The Warlock smiled warmly. That would be the rest of the family. He'd invited them to stop by to celebrate. His sister, Decedereful, and her boyfriend Valentis stepped out. Abigora, the priest, and Fuubaar's parents, Melvin and Minerva followed.

Each carried part of the celebratory meal. They set the various dishes down and settled into a circle around the Warlock and his wife. Food was passed out, drinks were poured, and in short order the meal was consumed.

Contented with a full stomach, Fulguralis stood up and spoke. "My dear family. We gather today to celebrate the end of an era. A string of epic adventures that shall be sung about in ages hence. We made many new friends, for which we are thankful, and we have left our mark on Azeroth. I have learned many things from you, as I hope you have learned from me. Where we go from here, I cannot say, but I hope-"

He cut off when a dark object sprang up before them. It slid vertically from the ground, and then snapped open to reveal a red, shimmering portal. Fulguralis regarded it with a raised eyebrow. It looked very much like something he used to call upon.

Familiar faces spilled out. Spaz was the first, of course, followed by the rest of the crew. What were his minions doing here, though? They weren't invited. In fact, he hadn't given them much thought in a while.

Midnight was the first to strike. She let loose a sultry laugh as her whip snaked out to snatch Valentis. Once he was pulled in close, her lips latched onto his. Her mouth opened wide and her tongue quested outward. Is she going to eat his face?

And she did. As Fulguralis watched in horror, she sucked the skin right off of his skull. The Gilnean's cries were muffled by the demonic mouth that smothered his. The attack was both sudden and brutal, and everyone else had risen to simply stare in astonishment.

The minions didn't stop though. Tim the Felguard side-armed his ax and gave it a heave. It whistled through the air and sheared through Melvin's neck. The much larger demon charged swiftly in and caught the ax in midair. He turned and sliced down through the rest of the Undead Captain's body. And then he continued. Hacking and hacking.

A ball of fire struck Abigora in the chest, charring a hole in her pristine robes. The hole continued through her body, and she pitched forward to fall face first on the ground. The imp that had lobbed the lethal flame danced atop the body with unrestrained glee.

From the air, a flaming meteor streaked toward the earth. Directly in its path stood Minerva the Mage. She had time only to glance upward and raise her hands before the big rock slammed into her. Bits of blood and gore hit Fulguralis in the face as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. The big rock sprouted arms and legs and stood up. It was Pablo, his Infernal. They were all his minions, yet he couldn't sense them; he couldn't order them to stop.

He'd lost control. It was the first rule of Warlockery: keep control at all times. He'd grown complacent. He had treated them as friends instead of tools of destruction, and now they had broken free. Fulguralis stood rooted in place because he realized there was nothing he could do. He derived his powers from demons. Demons that he had lost. Which meant he was powerless. Helpless to do anything but watch as his loved ones were devoured.

Barry Blue bounced from the portal and lifted his hands to the sky. A wave of misery radiated out from him, further sapping the will of the adventurers in the glade. Those that were left, anyway. Decedereful had her weapons in hand, but she dropped them down as a terrified look invaded her face. She stood in place, her hands raised above her head, shaking, as the Voidwalker glided over and leeched the very life from her. Her skin shriveled up and the blue light winked out of her eyes. In the span of a few seconds, she was reduced to nothing but ash.

That quickly, all that was left of the party was husband and wife. Fulguralis turned to Fuubaar. She was radiant. Her enormous sword was drawn and her shining shield hefted at her side. The Paladin appeared ready to take on an entire legion of demons. Light radiated from her skin as she lifted her weapon high. Judgment was coming.

"Who dares summon me?" a deep voice boomed behind them.

Fulguralis spun to see DeeGee there, in all his crimson glory, wings spread wide like an angel of death. His massive hands shot out before him, burning through Fuubaar's plate armor as if it were butter. With a geyser of blood, they burst out of her chest plate and then twisted to grip the sides of the cavity they had made. What had blazed with the power of the Light before, now shone only with surprise. In a grotesque imitation of the opening of the portal, DeeGee ripped his arms to the sides as if tearing a curtain. The two pieces of the Paladin's lifeless body fell opposite each other.

And then there was one. Fulguralis fell to his knees. He was surrounded by the very minions that had once served him, the blood of his loved ones running in rivers down the virgin hillside. His eyes stared blankly before him. Unseeing. Uncaring.

The last thing he saw before the darkness took him were the spreading jaws of a Felhunter.

"Sparky," were his last thoughts. "Why?"

5 comments:

  1. Epic! Hope this was a dream.

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  2. April Fools day, yes.

    Evil warlock :-p

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  3. It might be a dream... it might also be a Gnomish simulation... :-)

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  4. Wow. That was pretty intense. Thank you.

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  5. Is this your swan song? Are you leaving WoW behind? It read like a goodbye story; a very very gory goodbye but a goodbye all the same.

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