Ruul the Darkener

[warraven]

I wrote this after getting murderized by him while in Shadowmoon and forgot to post it here. Anyway, he's got so little lore, which is a shame, because he's awesome! So I wrote some. Expect a sequel because someone on the WoW forums suggested one and I liked the idea. When I get to it.


The dragon’s armored bulk beneath Ruul was as comfortable and familiar as the weight of his swords over his back. It had taken some effort to break the beast to his will but he would have had it no other way. Let the other corrupted orcs of Illidan’s forces tame the lesser beings. No, he had known this one would be his when they drug it in, screaming and clawing at the earth. He wasn’t sure how many died trying to contain its struggles. They didn’t matter. But he had watched them bind the creature to the earth with iron chains, watched the links stretch and start to break, and knew that this beast was to be his.

And tame it he had. The others would have given up… killed the beast as too dangerous. But no. He had patience. Infinite patience and now – a thin smile played across his lips and he glanced around as the beast crossed the valley. It didn’t so much as walk as it prowled. Broken to his will through time, pain, and a determination that could not be matched by the netherdrake’s ferocity. Now the two were a bonded pair and Ruul knew that the dragon would fight and die at his command. Let the lesser servants of Illidan cower as the shadow of his mount’s wings covered them. As well they should.

The hum of the crystals was familiar and somewhat reassuring. He remembered, long ago, leaving what had been his home for most of his life, and wondering just how they would restore their people to their former glory. Well, he’d found the way, certainly enough. The thin smile hardened and the beast quickened its pace, sensing his master’s displeasure. A broken land, savaged by a bloody history, made only bloodier as the conflict between Illidan, the Burning Legion, and now the influx of newcomers from Azeroth fought over this heap of rocks. But so much potential… he breathed deeply and gave the reins some slack. Let everyone fight it out and whichever faction would be the victor would be the one to claim dominance over this shattered land and all the riches it held. Perhaps it would be the Sin’dorei that won out. If so, he would be there with the rest, the blood of the traitorous Scryer’s on his swords, the blood of those that allied with them around his feet, and the bodies of the Aldor and their dogs would be food for his drake.

If someone else prevailed… well, then let his body lie among the broken banners of the army that finally managed to fell him. For it would take an army.

The gates of the fortress were in sight. Ruul shifted in his saddle, almost reluctant to be at his destination. It felt far too confined. He preferred it out here, under the ravaged sky, with his armor encasing the wild blood that ran in his veins and his swords just waiting like the winter wolves for the prey to stumble. But his netherdrake hesitated as they neared the gates and Ruul narrowed his eyes, looking. The creature huffed deeply, a growl escaping its throat, and the blood elf leaned forwards to see what it was that was causing it such disquiet.

There was the tang of blood on the air and he could see the corpses of the outside patrol littering the ground. Someone was picking off the orcs that guarded the stronghold. Ambushing the patrols, one by one. He chuckled. Good. Keep them on their toes and remind those savages just who truly were in Illidan’s graces now. Where their place was, if they couldn’t hold off a small assault by either the Alliance or Horde dogs. He hissed, urging his mount forwards, scanning the palisade for the attacker. There. Off to the left, where the wall slanted into the rock of the mountain and formed a natural barrier. Just one. He wanted to laugh but stifled it, instead reaching abck and drawing one of his swords, the blade a comforting weight in his hands. An eager weight.

Tauren. One of those gentle, stupid, cows that worshiped the earth and the spirits. That asked for power, instead of demanding what could be theirs. She was fighting with her back turned to him, a whirlwind of maces, keeping the orc guard pinned up against the stone of the mountain so that he could not escape the force of her blows. Even enhanced the orc was dwarfed by the bulk of the tauren female. Well, size did not matter. Ruul’s netherdrake had learned that, the first time it had stared up into the elf’s eyes and known them to be eyes of its master.

“Hyah!”

And Ruul kicked at his mount, leaning forwards in the saddle. The tauren half-turned at the sound and the orc she was fighting slumped aside, badly wounded, and content to know that his fight was over now. Ruul the Darkener was here.

He caught her eyes for a moment. They went wide with surprise, and then she turned and cried, a warcry to the spirits of the Earthmother, to guide her weapons. He leapt from his mount, rushing to meet her, granting her this glory at least. For she was meeting him head-on, charging into her death willingly and without fear. The bloodlust was upon them both.

They clashed and Ruul felt the wild blood in his veins pumping with adrenaline, feeding the glory of the battle. Part of him wanted to hold back, to let this dance continue, to give the tauren some slack and revel in nothing but the fight. But the other part of him wanted to see her die, this impudent shaman who thought she could defy Illidan’s dominance over the valley.

He caught her blows from the maces she carried on his armor, ducking one that was aimed for his head so that it slammed against his shoulderplate instead. The impact was jarring and he felt the nerves of his arm shiver in response, going numb for a second. Then he snapped his hand up, gripped her wrist, and the two slid for purchase on the barren ground. Her weight and strength was massive. Ruul laughed, felt her hot breath as she snorted, trying to hold back his sword with her free hand, and then he released both holds, leaping to the side and drawing his other sword, driving it for her stomach with a downward sweep.

It brought her off her feet. She skidded back in a swath of blood, hooved feet scrambling to reclaim her ground again despite the wound, and he rushed forwards to end the fight. His second sword drove down through the breastbone and the tauren convulsed, cried out, and went still, those wide eyes staring into the sky where the netherdrakes circled overhead and a thin trickle of blood escaped from her muzzle. Ruul wrenched the sword free.

The orc she had been fighting was propped up against the palisade, breathing hard and clutching a ruined shoulder. Ruul approached and he ducked his head in either reverence or fear. The elf didn’t care which.

“Is this how our stronghold is defended?” Ruul asked casually, his tone quiet. He had not sheathed his swords yet. “That a lone woman could cause so much damage? Wipe out our outside patrols? Would you have welcomed her into the front gates as well and let her walk out with her weapons bathed in blood? Pathetic.”

And with a jerk of the arm, a snap of the wrist, the sword came up like an extension of the elf’s arm and the orc’s head bounced away to roll along the ground. The body slumped down to follow it after. Ruul inhaled deeply, the reek of blood now thick in his senses. It clouded his mind for a moment and he fought it down. There. A little bit of sport for the evening. He smiled.

The defenses of the keep would have to be looked at, if it took him to unsheathe his swords to keep it secure. That would be a different sort of entertainment… and if he were lucky his swords would see yet more blood this evening. He spun on his heel and gestured to the netherdrake, a sharp command.

“Come!” he ordered, stalking towards the gates of Dragonmaw.

There was still much to do tonight and finally, Ruul chuckled and those that heard it cowered.

[Raineigh Dravenholdt]

Heck, I'd love to see a sequel. That's a really awesome story.

[warraven]

Shatu dipped one wing and banked, skirting the edge of the mountain and feeling the winds subside as her altitude dropped and the valley spread out below her. The crystal formations toyed with her senses, far too bright for the eyes of a bird, and she forced the elven part of her mind to focus and not let the animal instincts take control.

They had been growing stronger as of late.

The night elf flapped her pinions, reveling in the feel of power that kept her airborne over the valley. She was hunting. There were creatures below, deformed and misshapen beasts that hacked at the pristine crystal formations, their jagged claws leaving gouges in the humming stones. There was one particular creature in that valley too that she could barely bring herself to define as human.

Ruul the Darkener. She cried a bird’s clarion call to the winds at just the thought… degenerated so far from what he should be – what they all should have been. The Sin’dorei, led so far astray, consumed by their arcane power, and now this one was consumed by the battlelust. Well, she would see an end to it. Her and the others.

There were four of them, three humans and the lone night elf druid. They had stood together when they cross through the Dark Portal and from that point on it was as if everyone had shifted in some, discrete way. Korus, the paladin among them, had grown silent and his jokes were far and few between. He read often during his watches when they were camped in the wastelands of this place from the book of Uther’s teachings that he never let off his person. It was growing quite worn. Tider, the lanky and ambitious mage had only grown even more aggressive with his magic, often attacking when he should be holding back. It drove Korey, the priest among them, to hysterics at some points. Shatu dipped lower in the sky.

Of all of them, Korey was the one she found the most common ground. The woman had started out soft and weak and the night elf had scorned her at first, when the group had first met out in the tavern of Booty Bay. She was timid, flustered by the boisterousness of Tider and Korus, and it wasn’t until they crossed the portal that the two woman had grown closer together. Korey was cold and resolute now, that compassion burning like a fire within her. It was far easier to talk to her now than the times when Korus was challenging the night elf to a drinking contest back in the tavern.

If she could, Shatu would have smiled. The paladin had passed out while she stared on bemused and a handful of orcs in a corner had cheered her on, while the goblins watched the proceedings with both an appreciative eye for the gold being spent and for any sign of hostilities.

They were waiting on the road near the entrance to the valley for her signal. Word had reached them of Ruul, of his cruelty in battle, his relentlessness, and how many he had slain. Korus had sworn that in the name of the Light, he must die. Shatu had silently agreed with a nod, praying to Elune as she did.

The winds picked up. As barren a place as this was there was good flying and she should think about spiraling up on the currents, away from the singing crystals and those ground-creatures far below… finding the high perches of the world… nesting.

Shatu stopped her flight, hovering in mid-air. She had to focus. She could not let the animal mind control her. It was not yet her time to vanish into the wilds.

There. Her sudden stop had brought to her sense the attention of a large drake moving deliberately among the crystals, as if hunting for something. It had to be him. It had to be. She dove, hitting the ground behind him at a good distance and shifted back into her form, the leathers feeling awkward on her frame in comparison to the feathers she had been wearing moments ago. The netherdrake shook itself, as if sensing the disturbance, but the rider did not notice. Shatu bit her lip and pulled a flare from her pouch. This would attract attention. Then she would have to run and pray her companions were ready.

The light burst in the sky with a hiss of noise. The drake roared and tried to turn its bulk as the rider barked orders but the creature was large and awkward and Shatu had already shifted.

‘Run!’ she told the animal part of her mind, ‘Run, for hell pursues you!’

And the cat’s body responding, long limbs snapping into a run that outpaced her pursuer. She could hear the snik of metal sliding out of scabbards and the fear only fueled her run. There. Up ahead. They were running to meet her. She skidded into their ranks, the shield of Korus’s shield finally bringing an end to her blind panic and she slipped out of the form, crouching just between Korey and Tider.

“He’s going to be hard as hell to hit while on that mount,” Korey commented, planting her staff on the ground while Korus braced for the incoming charge.

She saw him lock his shield into place so it would receive the brunt of the blow, saw him prepping his body to throw itself forwards so his own momentum of the incoming rider. And she saw Ruul rise in the saddle, the wind blowing his hair back and his one visible eye glinting with the thrill of battle. The bloodlust was upon him.

“So we knock him off,” Shatu murmured and shifted again.

The bear’s mind was quiet beside her own. It was prepared. It was ready. She did not have time to reflect what it was waiting for – normally she had harnessed the rage of the animal. But this was different this time… like a den mother backed against a wall. There was no time to think. She couldn’t let the drake hit Korus full-force.

Ruul’s attention was focused on the paladin before him. An arrogant fool… he’d reap their blood and add their deaths to the countless other souls he’d dispatched. And seeing the grim determination in the holy warrior’s eyes – Ruul loved him. For this was a foe worth meeting and he loved him for the battle that was to come. He would never know just how much it pleased him to taint this already tainted land even further. None of them would even know how much Ruul desired to know their names at the least, so they would be remembered after their futile deaths, but that was impossible and all he could remember was their faces.

The druid struck him from the side, several hundred pounds of muscle slamming into a shoulder and driving him to the side. He screamed in sudden surprise and pain, kicking desperately to free himself from the saddle, and then the two went over and onto the ground. His drake kept moving, slamming into the paladin and sending the warrior flying. There was a burst of fire and Ruul caught sight of a mage, laughing, as he channeled arcane power into a bolt of fire that he gestured and threw at the dragon that was now claw to shield with the paladin. Ruul laughed too and rolled, regaining both his swords and his footing. The druid turned, her bear form slower than him by far, and the two met and locked into combat.

“Sister, I see in your eyes you have come to your death,” he hissed, his first blade glancing along the thick hide of the bear’s side. The blood steamed where it hit the earth.

And Shatu hesitated at the words for their eyes were locked and he was indeed seeing something she had not known before. All those late-night talks with Korey, the painful longing for the home she had left behind, and the constant trials of fighting for what felt like nothing other than just holding ground in this torn land. It was why the bear-mind had accepted what was to come.

“Don’t worry!” he cried, laughing and she leapt at him, her claws tearing through the armor at his hip and scoring deep. He went down on one knee and for a moment the two were face to face. Shatu found it difficult to breath and wondered why.

“I’ll remember your death, even if no one else does,” Ruul whispered, and jerked his second blade back, the one that had been buried up to the hilt in her lungs.

Shatu felt the bear form slip away. She tried to stay standing. The blood elf struggled to his feet; limping from the wound she had given him, and grabbed hold of her tunic. Lifted her off her feet and threw. The night elf was dead by the time her body slammed into the jagged point of the crystal, the humming spire piercing her torso and she lay there upon it, eye staring at the sky, blood sliding down and dripping from her fingertips.

Elune had welcomed her home. She flew the night skies with no war between her desires and her obligations, the feathers of her wings her only care, and the moon bathed her in its familiar light. She was home.

Ruul turned in time to see his netherdrake topple. For a moment speechless disbelief filled him. While he was so preoccupied with granting that druid the death she knew was coming… they… they…

“You will pay for this!” he cried and ran towards the paladin, forcing his legs to work despite the shooting pain from his hip that the bear’s claws had left.

“And you will die in the name of the Light!” the paladin roared in response.

So stinking predictable. The two clashed and Ruul felt heat wash over him, blistering his face, almost obscuring the sight in his good eye. He had to fight from the waist up, unable to leverage his agility into the fight as the druid had essentially crippled it and unfortunately, the paladin was very skilled with catching blows against his shield. There were very few openings for attack and that wretched priestess was behind him, healing almost every wound he inflicted.

Perhaps, he too, had gone to his death.

There was no time to pursue this thought. An explosion of the arcane knocked him off his feet and he heard the mage whoop in excitement, urging the paladin on to finish him off. He scrambled for his swords, exhaustion sinking in. He was fading fast.

“I will…” he gasped, spitting blood into the dirt, “Die like a god…”

There would be glory and honor. He struggled to one knee.

“No,” a voice said from above him, “You won’t. Light take your soul, Ruul.”

And the paladin brought the mace down into the back of the kneeling elf’s head.

Korey tended to their injuries as Tider braced himself in the crystal formation, struggling to lift the night elf’s body off the crystal. It was harder because he could not contain his tears. But finally he got her off and her body fell into Korus’s arms. Korey was right there as well, already channeling the holy light that would reach beyond and pull Shatu’s soul back to them. Light encased her body.

Nothing.

“No,” Tider said, “Try it again.”

“It wont’ work,” Korey whispered, “If her soul had held on to this realm then it would have already returned.”

“No, Shatu wouldn’t’ give up like this! She wouldn’t!”

Tider continued to yell and the two let him, Korey only watching in silence as Korus removed his cloak and draped it over Shatu’s body, reciting an old prayer to the Light as he did so.

“She had kin in Darnassus, I’m sure,” Korey finally said, “We need to go there. If nothing else… I cannot stand to bury her in this place.”

The paladin silently agreed and at last, the mage fell silent. Korus carried their friend as the three left the valley, the body of a netherdrake and a Sin’dori behind them. There would be no burial for those two, and in fact, as the humans retreated the flayers crept in, curious at the smell of blood and perhaps, an easy meal.


((and I'm done.))

[Raineigh Dravenholdt]

AWWW... now I'm all sad. Good story!