Erelle Netherbright, A Love Unspoken

[Erelle Netherbright]

Quick author's note. This is a story I've begun writing in the WoW universe with Erelle as the central character. Yes NBR is in it, yes you all are in it. Its going to be long, its gonna be brutal and I get the feeling it will be my best work yet. So this is the first installment. I hope you enjoy it.

Shadows fell coldly over the slight frame of the female sitting in the corner of the World's End Tavern, nursing her drink with a scowl.
Here, hidden away from the world, her Regiment and friends for a week, sitting in silence, wandering around the twilight city after its residents fall asleep.

Truly this must be what it feels like to be a ghost. Unobserved by the majority of the world, and those that can see you, hurry past with averted eyes. Blonde hair whipping about in the alien breeze, Erelle paced the empty streets. The place nigh abandonded after night fell.
The screams and shrieks from distant Forge Camps and demons echoing vaguely from beyond the protective walls of Shattrath City.

Her footfalls would have been nearly silent, had her feet not been clad in boots of mail. Even here, alone, she wrapped herself from head to toe in protective armor, the soft jingle of mail ringing around her as she paced. The Aldor guards paid her no mind as she passed before them, and the Scryers flung themselves into hasty salutes upon spying her tabard.

She ignored them all. Prowling the city like an animal, one thought was swirling around, a dark beacon pulling her closer, the one coherent thought in her normally chaotic thought process. A bitter frown slipped across her full, downturned lips, and she scrubbed her hands across her face, as if wishing to rub away this feeling.

Half tempted to return to the tavern, to drink herself into a stupor the way she wanted to, Erelle's hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she kicked out at an outcropping of stone, near the lift to the Scryer Tier of the City of Light. Shattrath.

Continuing on with her pacing, her glowering, Erelle paid no mind to where she was going, and she soon found herself near the gates of the city. Glancing around with a bemused gleam in her eye, she took in the soft springy grass of Terrokar, the dark shadows of the trees, everything was wet. Had it rained recently? She couldn't remember.

Catching a glimpse of her reflection in a glass smooth puddle, she stopped, and took in the features of the stranger that was herself.
Waist length blonde hair that hadn't seen a brush in ages, hanging in wild half curls down her back and framing a frail face that seemed to be slightly sick. Dark circles ran a race around her eyes, melding into the jet black ink that snaked down her face in a tribalistic tattoo that most of her kin found distasteful. The person looking back at her seemed exhausted, her full lips turned downward, with a pale, washed out look on her face. A woman clawing at retaining her sanity.

Herself.

With a snarl, she lashed out with her foot, at the woman glaring back at her. Ripples started from the center of the puddle, distorting her reflection. Erelle kicked out at the puddle again, distorting her face further, and soaking her legs up to her knees.

Her raspy voice rang out for the first time in days. Rough and low, though not necessarily from disuse and not necessarily unpleasant, a voice like a growling animal, rumbling from her throat.

"God's damnit it all to hell."

Glancing back into the black forest that looked ever so inviting, Erelle turned and headed back into the city proper, leaving strange half footprints behind her. The distant crack of thunder made her look to the sky, and as she turned her face upwards, a fat drop of rain landed on her face, followed by another and another, coursing down her face. She would have looked to be crying, had the torrents of rain not decided that it was the perfect moment to begin falling. She stood there, almost as if in a trance, allowing the rain to pound down around her, plastering her blonde hair to her face, soaking beneath her light armor to the clothing she wore beneath. She stood there, and allowed herself to be pelted with the heavy drops, her face still turned skyward, skin stinging as the water fell heavily. And just as suddenly, she broke out into a jog that soon turned into a run, that soon enough had her sprinting towards the stables. She ran perilously fast, her boots sliding on the slick stone until she finally fell with a crash, catching herself with her elbows and knees. Panting and gasping, with her hair hanging in sopping curls around her face, she forced herself to her feet, her knees stinging from the impact of the ground against the mail armor she wore to protect herself. And again she ran, the echoes of her furious footfalls bouncing back at her from the high walls, lending an eerie feeling to her race, it almost sounded as if she was being chased. Her chest was on fire and her lungs felt as though they would burst as she spurred herself faster and faster still, taking shallow gasping breaths as she ran. Anyone watching would have thought her to be running from pursuing demons.

And indeed she was.

[Erelle Netherbright]

The feeling in her throat was something akin to fire, each breath burning as she pulled the cold, wet air into her lungs. Her legs ached, her chest felt tight and water dripped down her chin as she neared her destination. Desperation was painted across her face, and she was breathing heavily now, her feet skidding out from under her as she slid to a halt in front of the stables. Toppling forward, she caught herself on the wall, and paused for a moment, gulping down lungfuls of the cool air in an attempt to soothe her burning throat.

The abrupt sound of footfalls alerted her to the presence of
another, a patrolling Aldor sentry who was mumbling under his breath.
Erelle strained her ears, but he was speaking in the strange language of the stars, the language of his people. Slipping quietly into the stable, she pressed herself against the side of the stall nearest to her. The horse inside nickered at her reproachfully and she ground her teeth together, mentally urging the large animal to be silent.
Whereas most would be praying to whatever deity they payed homage to, Erelle was quiet. She lost her faith long ago, and though the evidence of the greater gods lay sleeping inside the Terrace of Light...she prayed to nothing, believed in nothing.

The Aldor sentry had passed out of sight of the stables she guessed, judging by the silence that had returned. Her silence. She sprang to her feet, and with trembling, unsteady hands so unlike her, she gripped the mane of the noisy animal next to her and hauled herself
onto its bare back. With a scream of protest, the animal reared on its hind legs, attempting to buck the woman from its back. Tangling her fingers in its mane, she leaned down and growled, her legs clamped tight around its middle. Snarling and growling into the animal's ear, she kicked it, urging it forward, and together they raced from the stable, the metal clad hooves of the animal ringing out almost musically as they sped through the city, through the rain, and finally, through the gates and into the forest.

The rain pelted them both as Erelle urged the animal faster,
branches catching her sharply in the face and brambles pulling at her feet as they galloped far from the designated path and deep into the unwelcoming forest. Strange shapes and unblinking eyes watched them pass, staying just out of reach. Animals called to each other in a haunting melody that seemed unique to this forest. A sense of dread
slipped through this place, carried on the wind along with the calls of animals and demons and everything in between. The horse continued to run, needing no further bidding from its rider, the animal's eyes wide and wild from fear. Growls and screams erupted from the blackness all around them and the horse reared, its front hooves striking out at nothingness and Erelle slipped from her seat and landed with a dizzing crash on her back.

Her breath escaped her in a great rush and she coughed violently, rolling over on her side, doing her best to lie perfectly still as she listened to the horse gallop away, its distant hoofbeats growing softer and softer until finally they faded away completely. Holding her breath and screwing her eyes closed, Erelle listened as animals crashed through the brush towards her, or were they moving away? Her head swam from her fall and her hands grasped at her boot wildly, her fingers searching desperately for the dagger she had stashed away.
Feeling her fingers close around the chilled metal, with rain still crashing down around her, Erelle forced herself into a sitting position. Dizzy with the movement, her stomach heaved and she vomited, her eyes crossing and uncrossing, her vision dancing as she gingerly felt the back of her head. A large bump, and blood greeted her fingers and she winced as she put pressure on the wound.

She attempted to stand, her legs giving out feebly beneath her time and time again until she deemed it a lost cause at the moment. A low, unamused laugh slipped from her lips, the sound foreign and unnatural in this black place. At least her soldiers weren't here to see her in such a state. Trying to stand again was a mistake, she soon realized, but in a stubborn refusal to submit to her situation, she struggled to her feet again and again, only to have her legs give out and bring her crashing down again to the soaked dirt and leaves
covering the ground.

What a predicament, how had she gotten herself into this? Lost in Terrokar, unable to move at the moment, mountless and alone. With a grunt, she rummaged through her bag and pulled out her hearthstone.

The glowing green runes reflecting oddly on her face, mirroring the fel green shade of her eyes. Here it was. She could leave this place, just call for help. Call and a hundred soldiers would carry her home.

Raising the hilt of her dagger, Erelle smashed the stone into thousands of tiny pieces.

[Erelle Netherbright]

Keeping her eyes open was becoming a struggle, her heavy lids fluttering closed time after time as she leaned her head against the tree behind her. The tiny pieces of her hearthstone glittered dully in the limited moonlight, lying a few feet away where she left them. Crawling over to the nearest tree, Erelle sat upright, supporting herself against the sturdy trunk. Her eyes slid closed closed again and her head dropped to the side, the rough bark of the tree scraping against the wound on the back of her head; no longer tired, her eyes flew open and she jerked her head forward, grinding her teeth together and exhaling harshly in an effort to keep herself from crying out.

Her fingers dug into her palms, leaving half cresent, mildly bloody scars as she lurched forward, her rage helping to propel her from her position and onto her feet. A roar ripped from her throat as she stumbled and much to her great satisfaction...she remained firmly on her feet. Shaking her head against the dizziness, Erelle drew in a deep breath and with staggering, unsteady steps, she continuned in the direction she had been traveling before her horse had spooked.

Far from disturbed by the overpowering darkness, Erelle relished it. Twigs snapped underfoot and the wet leaves squished pleasantly as she walked, reveling in her silence and solitude in a place so unlike Silvermoon. Here she could walk without a gaggle of adoring people following her, tripping over her heels and begging for a moment of her time. Here she could actually think.
As her vision cleared and her footing grew steady, a self satisfied smirk flitted across her face and a snicker slipped passed her lips and was soon lost to the darkness. Her merriment was short lived horwever, as that one beacon thought resurfaced in her mind. She shoved it back down viciously, and her pace quickened, though she didn't seem to notice. Again and again the thought pushed it's way to the forefront of her mind, her hands turning into angry claws as she refused to acknowledge it. Her pace continued to quicken until she was running again, her feet flying as she did all she could to outrun the thought that had riddled its way all through her mind.

Ahead, the trees were beginning to thin and with a pang of regret she realized she'd nearly reached the end of the forest; and a thought so obvious suddenly struck her and she stopped moving completely, her brows knitting together as she chewed her bottom lip.

Where in the nine hells was she even going?

The rain had slackened but she was still surrounded by thick trees and the subtle, intimidating noises of the forest. Sprinting through Terrokar with no real destination in mind suddenly did not seem the best idea at the moment, but she refused to stop, her only desire being to leave that thought back in the tavern where it had first wormed its way into her head.

An unhappy scowl plastered itself across her face and she decided to simply avoid thinking about it, her hair hung in sopping curls around her face, her cheeks flushed a dull red that made her look lively for once, replacing the pale, drawn woman she'd seen in the puddle. It took her a moment to realize she was shivering. The rain had all but stopped but her armor seemed to be retaining water in a way that was exceptionally annoying.

Perhaps stopping for the night would be better than crashing through the brush with no idea of where she was headed.

Sometimes, rarely, Erelle had a thought that was dangerously close to common sense.

Sleeping in the woods was not a new phenomenon for Erelle, and soon enough she'd found a spot that although would be suitable for sleeping, would not be comfortable. It seems she'd been spoiled by the beds of Silvermoon, the lush treatment afforded to her by those wanting in her good graces.
Settling down with a sigh, Erelle pulled her soaking tabard over her head, her slick, wet hair clinging to her face and neck uncomfortably. Unbuckling mail armor slick with rain proved to be more difficult than she remembered, her fingers slipping over the clasp ineffectively. A frustrated groan died on her lips as her head dropped forward onto her knees, her fists pounding the ground in a semi-silent temper tantrum.

Fingers danced across her back and she leapt up, her mail chestpiece tumbling to the ground with a crash as she whirled around, her dagger flashing dangerously in the muted light of the cloud covered moon. A quiet, rumbling masculine laugh reached her ears and she turned slowly, her eyes searching the darkness uselessly for the owner of the voice that mocked her so.
Never one to be ashamed of her body, Erelle found herself secretly glad for the supple leather armor she wore under her mail, glad that her tormentor could not see her naked, if he could even see her at all.

"I would have helped you earlier when you fell off that horse, but...you're so much more fun like this. I must say...I have a soft spot for stubborn idiots."

[Erelle Netherbright]

Erelle stiffened, freezing in place as he finally spoke, his mocking words causing heat to flood her face and she bared her teeth at the darkness, snarling at a person she could not see. She turned slowly on the spot, her eyes searching the area around her, if she was such a bumbling fool, why did he hide?
She dropped into a crouching position, the muscles in her arm flexing as she tightened her grip on the dagger, her knuckles cracking one by one.
His boots shifted quietly on the wet leaves, she could hear the whisper of armor as he folded his arms across his chest. Leather. She was certain. She could hear him, smell him, practically feel the smirk on his face, but try as hard as she might, she just couldn't see him.
Erelle cursed under her breath and began backing up, one hand reaching behind her, searching for a tree. She needed to get her back against something, needed something more than this dagger, more than this leather underarmor.

Why had she come out here in the first place? She couldn't remember, all her thoughts focused on this hidden person. Then she remembered, the thought resurfacing with an annoying pang of guilt in her stomach. She crushed it back down, her face twisting into a feral, vicious snarl.

She continued her cautious steps backward, her eyes still darting uselessly around the dark clearing. Every muscle in her body tensed, and finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, she backed into something solid. Safe.

The relief flooding her system soon turned to cold, sick, heavy horror as an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tight, a voice whispering right against her ear.

"Got you."

Erelle froze, her breath hitching in her throat as she felt his arm around her middle, his breath against her neck.

Break him, break his face, break his neck, crush his teeth down his throat like you did to that Aldor guard a few weeks ago. Tear his arms from their sockets, carve his eyes from his skull. Break him, break him, break him.

No longer caring about who heard her, no longer caring about the animals in this forsaken wood who would probably love to have her for dinner, Erelle saw red.

No one catches Erelle Netherbright.

No one.

A wild animal, that's the only way to describe what happened next. A cougar realizing it's been caught.

Erelle yelled at the top of her lungs, her elbow jerking back to catch her captor in the stomach, the dagger flashing as she threw it off to the side, her hands turning into angry claws as she growled in her throat. She struck out as his face again and again; raining down a series of swift, painful blows that forced him to release her with a grunt.

He backed away quickly and Erelle danced backwards, dropping into a crouching position, panting and growling and glaring like a wild animal. She'd thrown her dagger off to the side, but she wouldn't need it.

Now that she had a general knowledge of where he was, she could see him, a dark outline, darker than the night around them.

There.

And with a strange echoing laugh that reverberated off the trees, she rose from her crouched position mockingly and beckoned him forward. In a voice that was low and rough, like honey sliding over pumice, she began to sing.

[Erelle Netherbright]

Obviously mocking him now, Erelle swayed as if she was dancing, her sing song voice taunting the man in front of her.

"I'll dislocate you arms from their fat little sockets..."

A muscle jumped in his jaw, but he didn't take the bait. He stood there, unmoving, watching the strange Sin'Dorei in front of him.

"I'll crush your teeth and put them in your pockets..."

She meant it, he could tell. Still, he didn't bat an eye. He wasn't going to be the first to move, he wasn't going to let her control the situation. How long had he been following her? Ever since that pretty blonde hair had caught his eye in Shattrath, in the World's End Tavern. That messily untamed hair, that scowl that curled those full lips downward, her brow wrinkling as distasteful thoughts obviously flew through her mind.

And he'd chased her through the city, keeping to the shadows. He'd caught her looking over her shoulder once or twice, as though she could hear his footfalls, sprinting after her as she ran and slipped through the rain.

And he'd killed the Aldor that passed by the stables.

"I'll crack your fingers one by one..."

He was getting annoyed now. She was playing with him, toying with him obviously.

"You'll cry to die before I'm done..."

He folded his arms over his chest and watched her sway as she teased him, singing mockingly over what she was going to do to him. He tuned her out, watching her lips form the words. So full and pouty, but with such bite behind them.

"I'll plant my dagger between your ribs..."

Her legs, so long and firm, wrapped tightly in the leather underarmor she wore to keep the water out, he could see the definition, his eyes trailing from her ankles all the way up to her thighs, hips, stomach, breasts and finally, that lovely face that was twisted into a wicked, malicious grin. And he finally spoke.

"Are you quite done?"

Erelle needed no further bidding. Like a cat stalking its prey, she immediately silenced herself, and stalked towards him, weaving in and out.

He didn't move.

She circled closer, now weaponless, but her arms looked strong, her knuckles scarred. She didn't need weapons.

Lashing out with one foot, Erelle caught him swiftly in the knee and skipped behind him, driving her elbow hard into the small of his back, her other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair to keep him from falling to his knees. She yanked him backwards, dragging him painfully by his hair, her breath hissing in his ear as she tightened her grip cruelly.

"Who's got who?"

And with that, she released him, pushing him roughly from her, spite and disdain written across her face in the muted light the moon decided to spare.

He stumbled and regained his footing easily, turning in almost comfortable and at ease manner. He eyed her up and down, she wasn't panting, wasn't sweating, showed no signs of exhertion. She stood there with guarded eyes, waiting for him to rush her, make a move, do something. He could tell she was rapidly growing bored. A smirk tugged on his lips and he pulled his gloves off, tossing them to the ground. If it was a fight she wanted...

He was behind her before she realized what happened, disappearing and reappearing almost by magic. Much as she had done to him, he grabbed a fistful of her messy hair, fingers sliding along the scalp as he tugged her back against him, albeit far gentler than she had handled him. His free hand trailed down her neck, gripping it lightly so he could control her movement. Placing his cheek against hers, he whispered.

"I think you know who I've got."

And he shoved her, far less gently than he'd tugged her hair, sending her sprawling forward on the wet leaves.

And then he was gone.

[Erelle Netherbright]

Erelle laid there for a moment, sprawled on her hands and knees on the wet leaves, her drying hair curling around her face in a way that suddenly infuriated her. Pushing it back roughly from her face, she rose to her feet, not bothering to turn around. He wouldn't be there. He'd had his fun. Toy with the huntress and watch her sprawl on her knees like some lightfoot. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, her nails digging sharply into the palms of her hands and she tasted blood, realizing vaguely somewhere in her mind that she'd chewed her lip to the point of bleeding once more. The coppery, metallic taste slipped over her tongue, staining her teeth a delicate pink color. Running her tongue over the tear in her lip, she spat blood out on the leaves as she made her way over to where she had planned on settling down for the night. She stared down at her meager belongings. The breastplate that had been pulled so easily from her body by the stranger.

The taste of blood in her mouth was so strong, her tongue continued running over the split in her lip, stinging over each pass. The blood was so sharp, so bitter tasting. A red haze began to settle over her sight, and she blinked a few times, trying to shake it dizzily from her. She'd experienced it before, now was not the time. She shook her head again, lifting one hand to her face as she exhaled slowly, trying to fight back the rising tide of rage that tightened her chest in that delightfully painful way. She bit down on her lip again, tearing it a little further, blood spilling down her chin. The red haze was getting thicker, her throat was constricting in a most enjoyable way as a low growl began rumbling in her throat. A slow snarl spread across her face, pulling her bloodied lips back into a grimace, revealing her bloodstained teeth in a manner that completely detracted from her beauty.

An animal.

She drove her fist as hard as she could into a nearby tree, feeling the bark shift and crumble. Her knuckles throbbed warningly, but she ignored it. Her fist connected with the tree again, a burning sensation slowly beginning to spread from her knuckles, trickling down the back of her fingers.
Again her fist smashed into the trunk of the tree, this time, a quiet crunching noise echoing throughout the small clearing.

It was finally starting to hurt.

Again and again and again. Her fist impacted the trunk with a noise like a snapping twig and her eyes flew open, her teeth bared as she glared at her useless hand. She'd broken it, that was obvious.
The haze was still there.
Something.
She needed something.

The tree.
Again.

With a low, choking growl, Erelle forced her ruined hand into a fist, and drove it once again into the trunk of the tree, her eyes squeezing shut and her teeth grinding together audibly.

Again.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

Finally, her head began to clear, the haze lifted slowly from her sight and she wobbled in place, her eyes half open, panting quietly.

Erelle frowned down at her ruined hand, Onika could fix it up as good as new, but she was bound to ask questions. Questions Erelle didn't want to answer.

How long ago had it been when Sael'thos had cornered her and demanded that she get herself in check?

How long ago had it been when she'd plastered on a fake smile and assured him with a confident voice that she had herself under control.

Liar, liar.

Bloodrage.

She was far from under control.

[Erelle Netherbright]

He was satisfied.

Lifting one hand to tighten his ponytail, he couldn't help the smirk the slipped over his lips. Lounging casually against a tree, just out of sight of Erelle, Relyan had a nice view of the blood enraged hunter. He saw every detail.

Loved how her eyes glazed over, loved how even her teeth seemed to sharpen as her breathing grew ragged, loved how he could hear the bones in her hand snapping and yet she didn't stop.

His own little berserker.

She was going to be fun.

She stopped finally, and he watched her, wanted her, as she panted heavily, cradling her busted and ruined hand. He wanted to run his fingers over the shattered bones, hear her sharp intake of breath as he pressed down too hard. He wanted to squeeze her hand, feel the bones shift, feel her eyes on him, glaring at him, wanting him dead.

He wanted to see that rage again, but not tonight. She could barely stand as it was, that much was obvious. He watched with an amused smirk as she sank heavily to her knees, still cradling her mess of a hand. He watched her struggle to pull her boots off with one hand. He even almost helped. Almost.

He lifted one hand to his mouth, muffling a laugh as she nearly gave up. Laughed as she ground her teeth together, even if he couldn't see it, he knew thats what she was doing. Laughed as he could practically feel her raging at him, this forest, her own stupidity.

This had evolved far past a simple game of catch and release. She had challenged him. The pure venom and defiance in her gaze had startled him, and attracted him. The hate he could feel radiating from her as he pinned her against him.


Erelle lifted her head wearily, hearing an animal shift and pad quietly away from her encampment. The rain had stopped long ago, and there weren't many hours of night left. She hadn't slept, and she was so tired.

So tired.

She'd finally managed to pull her boots off, the damn things.

Curling up on the drying leaves, she inhaled and exhaled slowly, evenly. Counting her breaths, steadying her pulse, putting herself to sleep.

Her eyes flickered closed and the rage on her face faded slowly, an expression of exquiste saddness replacing it inch by inch.

Tonight, her dreams would not be pleasant ones.

[Erelle Netherbright]

Morning came much sooner than she would have liked. Cracking one eye open, she groaned at that pale light filtering through the trees. Momentarily forgetting where she was, she lifted her hands to her face to scrub away the sleepiness, wincing as she flexed her broken hand. Last night came back in a haze, she always had problems remembering exactly what she did when she was angry like that. Good thing, sometimes, because she'd done a lot that she knew she would regret if she knew the whole story. She pulled herself into a sitting position, cracking her back sharply and exhaling as she attempted to wake herself up. Why was it that 4 hours of sleep always made you sleepier than no sleep at all?

Being careful to avoid further injury to her hand, she managed to slip her feet into her boots. With a wary glance down at her chestpiece, she came to the conclusion that there was NO way she was getting that on, one handed, and stuffed it into her back as best she could. Of course now her pack was bulky and heavy.

Lovely.

Erelle rolled her eyes and kicked the leaves around, erasing the traces that she'd slept there. If he was still following her, the least she could do was make it diffcult for him, no need to do him any favors. With one last glance down at her hand, she settled her feet more comfortably in her boots and began making her way carefully through the trees. If her training as a Farstrider had taught her anything, it was how to avoid leaving a trail, and she was one of the best damn Farstriders around. Right now, her concern was more with not letting him find her, than actually finding her way out.

Thorns tugged annoyingly at her armor, and the sun, of course, was right in front of her, forcing her to squint to see where she was going. Dew had settled on everything, leaves and flowers glimmering a breathtaking way that was lost on Erelle. Not that she didn't appreciate beauty, but water was not her idea of lovely things. A smirk curved her mouth upwards, laughing quietly as she'd thought of her last time in Alterac. Slipping up and around their bridge from the bottom, trekking quietly with Faerus. A priest and a Farstrider...just the two of them. Horns had rung out in a thrilling way as the Alliance had realized they were being struck in their own base. Erelle had lost sight of Faerus, but he could hold his own, she knew it, it's why she came with him, fought with him. He wasn't pathetic.

Her arrow had thudded dead center in the throat of one of the archers, toppling him silently from his perch in the tower. The tower she was about to destroy. Again and again and again, her arrows thunked one by one, always hitting their mark with silent precision.

Feeling someone at her back, she had whirled around, almost letting an arrow fly.

Faerus' confident smirk greeted her, and he wordlessly swept in front of her and practically flew up the steps of the tower. Erelle chased after him, her feet slamming into the stone with an eerie echoing ring as they circled up the tower.

Erelle had reached the top just in time to see Faerus rip the Alliance flag from the post and throw it over the side. Point for Faerus, he knew how to rub it in their face, that two blood elves could take a single tower.

Standing guard near the steps, Erelle had watched from the corner of her eye as Faerus set about destroying the tower, turning over boxes of supplies, scattering them in the snow and dropping them down in the ravine behind them.

There.
A mage.

Silly little Draenei.

She'd ported into the tower and right back out again when she saw the two of them.

At least she wasn't stupid.


Erelle's laughter startled her from her own reverie, and she'd realized that some time had passed as she'd been traveling. The sun was higher in the sky, the sky was darkening in a way that was most unusal for this time of the day. The bushes, the trees, everything was darker. Vibrant green gave way to browns and dark blues and up ahead, at forest's edge she could see...mushrooms.

Erelle sighed.

Zangarmarsh.

[Erelle Netherbright]

Erelle wrinkled her nose in disgust as she trudged through the quickly dampening enviroment. The smell of decaying leaves, beasts and mold, along with the muck and vague stench of ogres, assaulted her senses and her lips twisted in displeasure. Her boots sank into the mossy embankments, and murky water covered her feet with every step she took. The strange calls of the large beasts, mingled with the constant sound of raindrops hitting the large toadstools overhead was almost peaceful, and Erelle soon found her mind wandering again, the dark and oppressive atmosphere inflicting an almost lethargic mood upon her.

In the back of her mind, a subtle hiss registered, the sound vaguely familiar. She shook her head, swatting uselessly at the myriad crowds of mosquitos and other annoying insects that had been following her ever since she set foot in this wretched swamp.

The hissing sound grew louder and Erelle heaved an irritated sigh, turning on her heel to stomp the life from whatever suicidal snake had decided to follow her....and she promptly hit the ground, groaning in disgust as the muck and mud slithered its way into her armor as a spear flew over her head.

Planting her hands as firmly as she could on the slippery ground, Erelle heaved and shoved herself back to her feet, mud slipping down her chest and chin as she shot a death glare at the Naga that was stupid enough to try and take her down.

But then, they had never been very intelligent anyway.

Hissing and spitting at her, the Naga heaved another spear and she clamoured out of the way, slipping and nearly losing her balance as the spear narrowly missed her. Erelle's hands flew to her waist, searching for weapons she realized were not there. Her eyes searched the area wildly, searching for something to use as a weapon when the Naga suddenly squealed and began clawling wildly at its neck, coughing and sputtering.

Furrowing her brow, Erelle took a hesitant step closer, curiousity getting the best of her survival instincts. With one last shriek, the naga fell forward, and in slow motion, Erelle watched the wave of muck disturbed by the large body of the reptillian, and in equally slow motion, a look of horror painted itself across her face as the wave of mud and decaying plant matter washed over, soaking her from head to toe in the most disgusting manner she'd ever experienced.

As Erelle furiously scrubbed the mud from her face and hair, she felt pressure against her back, felt herself being pulled against something warm and solid. A chin settled on her shoulder and she heard that loathesome voice again, his breath tickling her cheek as his arms encircled her waist. His fingers splayed out over the swell of her hips, hugging her tightly to him, despite the warning growl that was beginning to rumble in her throat. He merely laughed and crushed her against him, his lips pressing lightly to her ear as his words were spoken in something very close to a purr.

"...Stupid fish..."