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Post by Delgado on Feb 11, 2006 15:47:47 GMT -5
The Prophet
Chapter 1
After the ravages struck by the race of demons known as the Burning Legion left much of the land in ruin and then the Lich following up with the rule of the Frozen Lord, much of what was once glorious, Kalimdor, Azeroth, Ashenvale and Lorderon are left in utter ruin. Undead run unchecked throughout the land, killing those who oppose. swelling their ranks even more. Throughout it all, a certain creature returns from what was supposed to be his Last Journey,
Nalmeena Seerana was a night elf warden, the special police of the once great forests of Ashenvale which were now a desolate tundra. She was one of the few left, out hunting the rumour about Arthas, the Frozen Lord moving from his location in Northrend to somewhere in the old hills od Azeroth. Nalmeena was currently in their. It was summer time, at least for now. Every where the Frozen Lord went soon wilted to Winter. She raised her head to sniff the night air and looked around with her enhanced eyes. No trace. Damn those drunken humans. Always spouting information just to make them look good. Nalmeena was glad she had dragged him around back and finished him off before he could tell any others. It was the fitting payment for this treachery.
She started to turn back the way she came when she spotted a raven circling the skies near her. That's odd, she thought. All the birds of the land fled long ago when the ice of Northrend started moving downwards. As the bird approached closer, she noticed strange details. First, it was heading towards her general. Second, it looked so ragged, it had a better appearance dead on the ground then flying in the air. She stood, fascinated by it's apparent struggle with air as it approached her ever closer.
Once the raven reached the area above her head, it screached and plummeted to the ground. Well, that was an anticlimatic moment Nalmeena thought. Before she could move away, the raven started shifting. It suddenly grew out of proportion and swelled in size. Less than 3 seconds later, an ancient man, clothed in a gigantic cloak with feathers strung around and weilding a staff stood where the supposedly dead raven lay. The two figures stared at each other for a few seconds and finally Nalmeena spoke in the common Human tongue, "Well?"
The Human stared for a few more seconds then spoke, "Nalmeena Seerana?" He asked.
Nalmeena was instantly wary. "Perhaps," she responded.
"I shall take that as a yes. You must leave here quickly. An army of the Lich approaches swiftly, headed by a dreadlord whose power far outstrips yours."
"And just why should I trust you?" Nalmeena's hand was straying for her bladed fan.
"Because I might be the only hope left for this world."
"Riiight" Her hand brought up the fan in a sudden arc, whizzing straight for the man's throat. Just as the blade was about to connect, a sudden flash of light and an explosion of sound threw Nalmeena backwards. The Human stood there untouched. She got up to her feet and grumbled, "There is more to you than appears, near dead Human raven."
"I am more than a man or a raven, and I am far from near dead. I have been dead for many years." The man laughs a strange, low, almost insane laugh. "That is not the point. The point is, there are plans for you and you serve much better use alive than dead."
Nalmeena could hardly belive what she was hearing, but she had just witnessed two amazing works of power. Perhaps there was more to this human than meets the eye. "What must I do?" She asked.
"For now, you must flee. The dreadlord leads an escort that is traveling with the Frozen Lord, Arthas. His power is too great at the time. You must go to the one land that has yet to be touched by this evil, the one land that is free of the undead. Pandara."
At first, Nalmeena's reaction was to stay here and attack the group. She had a mission and she was going to fulfil it. But at the mention of Pandara, her curiousity got the better of her. She had heard of the distant land, full of the strange brewmasters and quirky beasts. Perhaps they would serve of use, since they were also excellent melee fighters, having fought alongside them before. She nodded slowly. and the Human responded, "Good. Now follow me. On the far side of the hill is a goblin observatory containing a zeppelin. I shall go with you, but I am afraid I am not much use in combat. You must be careful, though. There is an ancient firelord guarding the way."
Nalmeena nodded again. "All right, then. Let us get started." She started walking on the path and the Man followed. While they walked she called behind her, "What is your name by the way? I can't exactly go about inventing names for you."
"Prophet will suffice. I was called that before and I guess it shall serve me again."
"All right then, Prophet. What are you? How did you obtain your powers?"
"Enough talk. Save your breath for the battle that is soon to come."
Nalmeena lasped into silence and walked lightly onwards. Soon she smelt the acrid smell of something burning, a dead giveaway that a firelord was near. As she climbed the last rise, she could see it, it's occasional burst of flame towering over it's head, it's hot, magma like legs, shifting from side to side, it's hardened shell of armour clinking around it. She decided it was best to rush at this enemy, preventing him from using any of his truly powerful spells, such as the Volcano. She started down the hill at a run. Fortunately, the elemental was turned away from her. She leaped up and struck it deep in the back with her fan. The creature roared in pain and whirled around, striking Nalmeena off his back. She flew several feet, smacking into a tree. Staggering to her feet in a daze, she knew this was a fight she would not be able to win on her own. And since the prophet was not willing to help, she had to use her own.
As the beast stumped towards her, she bressed her hands together and trilled in a high voice. An avatar, a summoned creature, popped into existence between her and the firelord. The Avatar roared at the firelord and raised its arms in the air, calling to it spirits that would help to destroy the beast. Nalmeena joined her creation and together, the three forces rushed at the firelord, crshing with an allmighty sound. She stabbed at the beast repeatedly, using her fan of knives ability to launch blades at it from a distance whenever she was thrown back. Her avatar was holding it's own, severing one of the firelord's arms. The spirits kept the firelord occupied around it's head, attacking it's eyes and preventing it from aiming correctly, which resulted in blind stomping. Finally, the firelord gave out a horrendous screech and extinguished, leaving only cooled, hardened magma in it's wake. The Avatar melted away and with it, the spirits and only Nalmeena was left, panting from the exertion. This was a tough battle. The Prophet came from behind a tree and smiled, "Well done. You have proved your self worried. When I hired that beast at the tavern, I did not expect you to be able to defeat it. Shall we proceed?"
It took Nalmeena few seconds of dazed confusion to work out what the Prophet had said and it clicked. She had been set up! She whirled around to strike at the Prophet again, and yet once more, she was thrown back with the Human towering over her, "Do not presume to be able to defeat me, mere mortal," This sudden apparation said in a huge, deep voice quite unlike the earlier rasp. "My power far outstrips yours. Remember that."
Nalmeena was pressed to the ground. Such powerful force. She could not resist. It was pressing at her, smothering her, and just as soon as it appeared, it vanished, leaving her gasping for sweet air. She got to her feet slowly. "all right then. I won't attack you again. Let's get to the observatory." They soon reached it. Walking in, they talked to the annoyingly high pitched Goblin.
"Yes?" he asked.
Nalmeena winced lightly before answering, "Ineed a zeppelin to take me to Pandara."
"Ooo, very high price that would be. About 3000 gold."
Nalmeena swore. She had no idea where they were going to get that kind of money. Just when she was about to give up and walk away, the Prophet steps foward with a large bag. "This should be enough to cover the cost and enough for a tip to get us there faster." The goblin opened the bag and stared inside, it's eyes widening at the amount.
"Yes sir," he rasped. As the goblin turned around to process the order, Nalmeena wondered where in the Moon Goddess' name did the Prophet get that much money.
They were soon outside and boarding the zeppelin on the way to his new and strange land that had yet to be explored by any of the four main races of this world.
To be Continued.
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