((This story completed to "This is War" by 30 Seconds to Mars- the theme for Seana Aesire, now Seana Shadestalker, and "You're Going Down" - Sick Puppies, which was playing in my head while I was envisioning the fight scene. Welcome to Wyrmrest, Seana!))
There is a time during every friendship, every association, every alliance, every relationship, where we come dangerously close to rage or even violence with those on the other side of it. It is very seldom that any of these START in such a way and end up as any of the aforementioned peaceful relationships.
I was recently re-acquainted with a former Knight-Lord for whom I harbor great respect. She has reminded me of the ever-changing nature of our world by accepting me not only as I am now, but as I was. Or, at the very least, acknowledging each in its own light. She is an oddity- a former Blood Knight with a sense of duty and honor.
Her name is Seana Shadestalker.
~ From the journal of Xynrael Frostbane
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A single pair of plate-covered leather boots stalked through the streets of Stratholme, the sound hidden by the roar of the ever-burning flame and the groaning of the Undead. The young Blood Knight initiate to whom the boots belonged clutched tightly at his ranseur, his fingers drumming nervously over the weapon's shaft as if to assure himself of both his grip and the presence of his armament.
Thus far, the Scourge had made no attempt to impede his path. In fact, not a one of them had even stood directly before him since he entered the city. The Blood Knight reflected on this as he neared his objective: A small chapel where Uther the Lightbringer had been blessed as the first Paladin.
Well, he thought, blessed is a subjective term.
The young man snickered as he approached the door of the church, straightening up. He had reached his objective and now-
The sound of a pair of heavy boots on the cobblestone street behind him made him freeze. The shifting crunch of plate armor scraping and settling, however, broke the Blood Knight out of his shock. With ranseur raised, he turned, the weapon's point coming to rest against the chest of a rather large man in frightening blue plate.
Runes danced on the mace held over the man's armor, and beneath his hood, a pair of rime-laced blue eyes poured their unholy glow. What of this man's face was not covered by his hood was curved in a lopsided, arrogant smirk. He also seemed not to be breathing, his pale skin not retracting or twitching in the slightest, nose unmoving, lips held loosely together, but still completely shut.
It took several moments for the Blood Knight to put all of this together, and when he did, it didn't quite come out right. "D...D..ea... You're a..." he began, sputtering and taking several steps back, his hands wringing tensely over the shaft of his polearm, choking up on it
"Death Knight," the man responded, smirk spreading. "So? What're you supposed to be?" He asked, swatting the Blood Knight's ranseur aside with a sweep of his left arm and taking an all-too-easy step foreward.
The Sin'dorei backpedaled a ways towards the chapel's entrance, but straightened up. "I am Tadrian Kal'dar, Blood Knight of Silvermoon," he declared, far more bravely than he felt. "And I am here to complete my initiation as a Knight-Master by def-"
The Death Knight cut him off with another wave of the hand. "I don't rightly give a damn why you think you're here. The Light is strange about you, boy. There is no faith- it waxes and wanes the faster your heart beats. I had the way cleared for you so that you could explain this; I've been stalking you since the Thalassian Pass."
With a panicked gaze, the Blood Knight realized the implications of his Undead opposite's words. The Undead had begun closing in around him, and the streets were once again flooded by their number. Creatures that looked like some sick combination of spiders, ants, and perhaps a praying mantis for a grandfather had come skittering down from the buildings. He was completely surrounded, and suddenly not at ALL certain of himself.
As he opened his mouth, Knight-Adept Kal'dar's burning aura began to wane. "We... We do not beg the Light to come and let it desert us where it wills," he stammered, raising his weapon again. "We command it to come. We choke it out. We are not weak like the Paladins of the Silver Hand, like Uther and Arthas. We dominate it by our will and our might."
The Death Knight inclined his head in something of a respectful nod. "Fair enough," he asserted, eliciting a surprised stare from the Blood Knight. "You're free to go if you can answer this question, then."
Tadrian's brows raised practically to the sky, though he felt his whole body tense. "Al... right... What?" As the words left his lips, the Adept felt his breath begin to come short. His grip tightened further, terrified at the thought of losing his weapon to a panic attack.
A single, red-fringed rune on the Death Knight's mace glimmered, his grin turning feral as his left hand lifted, fingers closing as if he were strangling someone or perhaps crushing a small mammal in his grip.
"How strong is your will, Tadrian Kal'dar... And where is your Light now?"
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The sound of hoofbeats on worn stone gave stoic report of the red-and-black clad Knights who were riding through what was once the easternmost extension of the kingdom of Lordaeron. At the center of the group of three, astride a great Thalassian charger, sat Knight-Master Seana Aesire. In her left hand, she held the beast's reins, and in her left, an ichor-caked axe. She and the two assigned to ride with her had just cut a swath of holy fire through the Western half of the Plaguelands, and were now riding east to the burning ruins of Stratholme.
"Remind me again why we're out here?" The Knight-Adept on her left, called Aestas Elurial, shouted over the din of thumping hooves and shifting plate.
Aesire shot back, "Because Knight-Lord Bloodvalor commanded it, Adept!" Her tone was sharp, cold... As if the answer should have been obvious to an infant, much more so to a Knight-Adept. The companion on her left fell silent.
The man on her right, however, called out to her in turn. "I think he means that if Tad was the third adept to go missing in the Plaguelands this week, why is Bloodvalor only sending the three of us? It seems a little redund-"
"YOU are being redundant, adept! The answer remains the same. Our brothers were lost, we know where one might be, and we're going to retreive him." Mentally, she added, "Or his corpse." Rather than add this aloud, however, she cast her eyes foreward.
The path before Knight-Master Aesire and the accompanying Adepts was clear by comparison of the road behind them; only plagued ground and giant mushrooms oozing spores decorated the road ahead. Seana reigned in her charger, brow furrowing as she caught sight of smoke rising from the ever-burning city. "This is too easy," she muttered, under her breath.
The Adepts came to a halt a little behind but otherwise directly beside her, looking around. She noted silently that the pair were at least experienced enough to get their bearings and notice that something was out of place. In a land inhabited by the Scourge, there should at least be ghouls, and possibly other monsters. Ahead of them, on the road to Stratholme, was nothing. Around them, all was eerily still.
"I don't like this." Elurial remarked, illiciting a nervous snicker from Relion Tarsus, whom flanked Seana on the right.
"You never like anything... But, it is quiet. I wonder where they went?" Tarsus asked, reaching for a loaded crossbow that sat in a sling behind his saddle.
Aesire, snapped fully out of her reverie by their commentary, hefted her axe and urged her charger foreward at a trot. The others followed suit as she barked at them. "You complain that we're sent here, then complain when the task before us becomes significantly easier. We go. Now, while the road is clear." With a heavy kick, she urged her beast into a mad dash.
The other two had to shout their chargers on to convince them to keep up.
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The gates of Stratholme were completely clear of Undead, much as the road leading up to them had been. As Seana reigned her charger in, she reached back for her axe, and swung out of the saddle, her feet hitting the ground just as the warhorse's hooves came to a complete start. She straightened up, armor shuffling in protest.
Always a step behind, the Knight-Adepts planted their boots on the road leading to the city gates, and crossed the thin line that signaled the beginning of Stratholme's bridge.
Despite herself, the female Blood Knight let out a miniscule shudder. As the ash and smoke trickled into her nostrils, she pressed back the urge to sneeze, instead satisfying the desire by rubbing her index finger under her nose. The sneeze came out anyway, and much to her embarassment, but it wasn't the indignity of it that mortified her.
In the moment where she leaned her head foreward and her eyes slammed shut, Knight-Master Aesire felt something cold standing on the fringe of her senses, as if a strange wind had suddenly blown against her skin through her armor. The chill was accompanied by a single, distinct voice, and an echoing call of "Light bless you!"
Seana looked up, vaguely surprised. Her eyes searched 'round and 'round, but found nothing. Finally, a tap on her shoulder, accompanied by a red-and-black-clad arm pointing up to the top of the city gates directed her attention to the speaker.
On top of Stratholme, one boot lifted, knee bent and perched upon the battlements, stood a Death Knight in heavy saronite plate. A cruel-looking mace sat over his shoulder, and he was looking down on the group of Blood Knights from beneath the shadow of a large cowl, one Seana Aesire was all too familiar with. In theory, at least. The Death Knight tossed off a sarcastic-looking salute with two fingers.
Seana could -feel- her eyes narrow as she stared up at him. Still, despite her blood already beginning to boil with anger, she had to be sure. "You are the Dawnbreaker!" She declared. It had been meant as a question, but in her rage, it came out as a blatantly obvious statement. The Blood Knight's fingers curled around the shaft of her axe, almost hard enough to crack the polished wood. Light crackled around the weapon's head, and she found herself wishing he were just a few feet closer.
"Ten gold pieces for reaching the obvious conclusion faster than all the other Blood Knights, but minus several million for ignoring the little feeling in your gut saying this was a trap," the Dawnbreaker replied, half-turning and reaching behind himself for something.
As their harasser turned away, one of Seana's companions (her frustration deafened her as to which) whispered "What the hell do we do now?"
For a moment, she wanted to bite his head right off, but this moment ended as a body impaled on a spear sailed through the air and landed with a metallic scrape on the ground before them. The two Knight-Adepts recoiled, but Seana stepped foreward. It was a far lesser manifestation of her desire to lunge at the Death Knight despite the distance between them.
"By the Sunwell," one of the Adepts muttered. "It's Tadrian."
"I KNOW WHO IT IS." Seana bellowed in reply.
"SHE KNOWS WHO IT IS." The Death Knight roared, the unnatural echo of his voice carrying the statement much further. An arrogant smirk tugged at his lips, the infuriating grin the only thing besides his eyes clearly visible beneath the shadow of his hood.
"Come down here and mock me, coward." Seana whispered this under her breath. To the two Knight-Adepts, however, she gave a clear order: "Retrieve the body."
The Death Knight shifted his runemace, and lifted his other boot onto the battlements. "Leaving so soon?" He asked, motioning to the body. "I'd just properly set your friend to be roasted."
Knight-Master Aesire opened her mouth to reply, but the words left her as she noticed the -manner- in which Tadrian Kal'dan's body had been impaled; the spear's head stuffed directly into his intestinal tract, and out the top of his head. "...Get that thing out of him," she ordered, upon seeing the spear's placement.
With both eyes fixed on the Death Knight, the two adepts advanced in unison. He moved to neither blink nor breathe until they were fifteen steps or so from the body that had landed on the bridge. The moment their boots crossed that invisible line, he lept into the air, armor glimmering with a fresh coast of frost.
At the sound of rustling plate and their new opponent's cloak fluttering against the momentum, the Blood Knights drew their weapons. There was a brief confusion as the Dawnbreaker landed and the layer of ice protecting him shattered, but when the confusion ended, the Undead had parried two blows and was standing between the group of Blood Knights and their fallen companion.
The two Adepts backed away, Elurial rolling his left shoulder. The force of the counter-attack had caused him no small amount of discomfort, and through gritten teeth, he asked, "What do we do?"
Seana stepped foreward, an aura of burning Light enveloping her as she lifted her axe. "Retrieve. The. Body." She repeated.
Tarsus swung out his crossbow to loose a bolt at the Death Knight, but their quarry raised his left hand just as quickly. The bolt froze in place, and the bowstring snapped under its own tension. Rather than stare dumbfoundedly at the weapon, the Blood Knight tossed it aside and reached for his mace and shield.
Elurial and Tarsus raced forewards, their own bodies erupting with the Light. In face of Seana's command, they were clearly attempting to cover their fear in zeal, and it worked.
Too well.
Knight-Adept Aestas Elurial raised his massive broadsword over his head to make an exaggerated, but potentially deadly downward strike aimed directly for their opponent's head. Despite Seana's attempt to shout him down, the Blood Knight carried foreward, and was struck immediately in the stomach.
The Dawnbreaker shifted his mace forewards, not even lifting it from his shoulder. Rather, he dipped his right shoulder forewards and brought the enormous, spiked pommel of the mace down into the Adept's stomach. The spike stabbed straight through the Knight's tabard, pierced and caved his plate armor inwards, and punctured his kidney. Aestas' sword fell backwards, and as the Death Knight removed the spike, the other man staggered and fell forewards.
From Xynrael's left, Relion Tarsus let out a mighty cry, and brought his own, smaller mace down on the Death Knight. Knight-Master Aesire rushed forewards, attempting to close distance and take advantage of the momentary disruption as the Dawnbreaker lifted his mace to defend against the blow. Tarsus rammed his shield foreward, but failed to disrupt his opponent, who quickly stood.
Apparently unimpressed by the shorter man's blow, Xynrael shoved himself to his feet, hood falling back from the jerking leap he had taken to get himself upright. Along the now-revealed skin, Seana could see that the Death Knight's veins were turning a sort of cobalt blue. While she wasn't entirely certain what it meant, he seemed immune to any attempt to displace or shake him. This fact was accented as Elurial made one last attempt to aid his comrades- a hammer of light formed above the Death Knight's head, fell, and was shrugged off as if it were a pebble.
Tarsus spun away, the blow from his shield deflected, and aimed instead to strike Xynrael with his mace. Seana brought her axe down, but her target had moved forewards more quickly than she had expected, and shoved his boot against Knight-Adept Tarsus' back as the man spun.
The Adept fell foreward into the pool of his friend's blood. Seana turned to strike again, but the blow halted in mid-air. She cringed at the demonic screech and spray of blood that spread into the air as the scythes that rimmed the Dawnbreaker's mace cleaved into Tarsus' back and shred his armor. He cried out as Xynrael attempted to shake him from the mace. Rather than yank it out, however, the Death Knight lifted the weapon with its most recent sheath still attached, and flung the man over his shoulder as if he were a ragdoll.
The Adept flew back onto the floor, leaving a streak of blood behind him as he skidded to a halt. His abdomen was nearly split from the force of the strike, and he had left splashes of blood all over the bridge as he soared to his new resting place.
Seana now stood between Xynrael and the initial corpse. Her hands stll held tightly to the hilt of her axe, which was the only thing besides air between her and the Death Knight. He turned slowly, lifting his brows at her. She took a step backwards, partially out of a sense of self-preservation, but also to another end. Silently, the Knight-Master prayed that he would believe her actions to be entirely out of fear. She made no attempt to interrupt as he started to speak.
"You Blood Knights... You're not even Paladins properly, are you?" He asked, lifting his bloodied mace back onto his shoulder. She noted, still in silence, that the frost wisping from his eyes had grown brighter since he made the kills of her comrades.
"There is no blind faith protecting you- the moment you start to fear, your strength wanes. You tried to take the Light, like adolescents throwing a tantrum so you wouldn't have to subject yourself to anything but your own rules. It's cute, but as you can see, useless. Your Light is weak. Frail." He smirked that infuriating smirk, fingers drumming on the shaft of his mace. "Run home, little girl, and beg forgiveness from the Light you've tried to- GRAH."
Seana was right. He hadn't seen what she was moving for. As he spoke, she had slowly backed away. In one fluid motion, just as she sensed his speech about to end, the Blood Knight took hold of her dead brother's spear, ripped it from his flesh, and flung it at her tormentor. There was little force behind the blow, but the Dawnbreaker was close enough that dodging it would have been a minor miracle. Instead, it landeded just below his right pauldron and stuck. She charged, her weapon crackling with the Light, and gave a blind swing as she closed the distance.
The blow of her axe met with the shaft of the Death Knight's mace, held in both hands. Clearly, the ranseur's head had not buried as deeply as she'd hoped.
Rather than back down, Seana slid her left hand up on the axe's shaft and, with her right, grabbed the ranseur's pommel and shoved. Her efforts were rewarded with a deep growl, followed immediately by a heavy kick to the stomach. The Blood Knight stumbled backwards- the blow had hurt, even through the armor. There was a moment of relative calm between them as the Dawkbreaker tore the spear from his flesh and his living opponent recovered.
They stood at odds, regarding eachother. This time, it was Seana's turn to talk.
"You are an abomination, Dawnbreaker," he began, glancing over him. Her eyes flicked back and forth beneath the veil of their Felfire glow, searching him up and down for any weak spot in his armor or his stance. "The Scourge have no place in this world."
"So, what are you going to do?" He replied, hefting his mace back onto his shoulder. "Purge us with fire?"
"Yes." The Knight-Master rushed forewards again, seperating her left palm from her axe's shaft. Light crackled and seared the air around her hand as the glow surged towards her tormentor.
The Light washed over him as it struck, and the blade of Seana's axe followed quickly after, announcing its upwards cut with a single note of violent song.
Only, the Dawnbreaker wasn't there. He had stepped aside. Seana kept moving; he was either going to counterattack, or do nothing and continue to mock her, but either way, she didn't intend to sit still for it. As she spun to face him, her eyes caught the last of the glow washing away, a sickly green color following in its wake.
Eight feet now stood between them, fingers of the Death Knight's right gauntlet drumming idly on the shaft of the mace that rested upon his shoulder. On his face lay an amused-looking grin. It was there, in that moment of observation, that she realized the hopelessness of her situation. She was standing alone, shoulder-deep in the Plaguelands, surrounded by nothing but empty space and a forest that the Undead knew far better than she knew it. And he was toying with her.
With a groan, she rolled her left shoulder, reaching up to place her hand directly over the clasp that held her cloak in place. As she moved, the Blood Knight noticed a distinct, dull ache in her ribcage from the initial assault. No time to heal it now- would take too much time, too much focus. Instead, Seana kept her focus on the Death Knight, and on buying time.
In the moment she made her decision, the tension holding them apart broke like a string. Each Knight charged foreward. Seana's axe camp up, the Dawnbreaker's mace came down. There was a brief, sickening scream of metal scraping metal. They seperated, met, and seperated again. Seana whirled. Dawnbreaker's left hand came up. The Light surged and thundered around the Blood Knight, and fell short against a runic barrier.
Then, something happened she did not expect. Around her opponent, a sickly yellow glow erupted, then surged foreward. From his outstretched palm shot a bolt of the Light. It solidified in the form of a hammer, much as she attempted to do to him before it had been deflected. The hammer connected solidly with her chest, picking the Knight-Master up off her feet and sending her backwards. She landed on her back and rolled twice, pressing herself up to her feet almost immediately. In the excitement, Seana had not relinquished her axe.
"How..." She coughed, as she rose, lifting her axe to prepare for the inevitable attempt at a finishing blow.
The Dawnbreaker smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent at the sound of blaring horns from the treeline.
Seana heard the call only a moment before he did.
"FOR THE ARGENT DAWN! FOR LORDAERON!"
Through the trees came a group of soldiers at least twenty strong, all bearing tabards of the Argent Dawn.
In spite of the sudden change of circumstances, the Dawnbreaker again surprised Seana by broadening his grin. "You are a tricky one, Blood Knight. But you still have much to learn. I will leave you be to learn it." He called to her, as the Argents closed distance.
As he turned away, the three dead Knight-Adepts rose to their feet. Elurial clawed his way from most of his own armor, then his skin, then some of his muscle tissue. Seana's reinforcements were nearly upon her by the time the freshly-born ghouls had charged. With a single sweep of her axe, she dispatched the Undead, and set herself ahead of the white-clad soldiers.
Knight-Master Aesire's eyes stuck dead ahead, focused on the departing Death Knight. nother bolt of Light tore from her as she ran at him, this time from the head of her axe, and aimed itself straight for her quarry. She could hear him grunt as he staggered and set himself to a jog towards the gates. Seana raised her axe.
Her furious downswing at the Dawnbreaker's back met instead with the falling iron gates of Stratholme. The Blood Knight staggered backwards, roaring above the fire and clamor of boots and shuffling armor, "AND YOU HAVE MUCH TO ANSWER FOR."
Seana slammed her fist against the insult of the gate as the Dawnbreaker disappeared into the city.
Under her breath, the Knight-Master growled, "We will meet again. And we will see whose faith is stronger."
