Commander Braghaman Larethian

Final Escape

The death knight stumbled out of the cave and onto the bleak landscape of Icecrown. Even with the wind and snow pushing against it, the death knight only heard the ring of the explosion echoing within his helm. Shaking its head slightly, the death knight gripped its sword and turned to look back at the smoke that was streaming out of the cavern. He gave a metallic growl as he listened to the grunts of its last remaining men inside.

“Fel-damned warlock,” the death knight spat as it stood and waited.

After a few moments, a vague form started to separate from the smoke. A figure in dark brown robes moved towards the entrance of the cave, his mask hiding his features and likely protecting him from the smoke. In his hands he held a large scythe with a glowing red blade.

“Where are you pets?” the death knight sneered.

“Dealing with your pet.”

“Who are you?” the death knight bellowed, his voice mixing with the howl of the wind.

“No one of consequence.”

“I will know why you have vexed me so!” the death knight bellowed.

“No. You won’t.”

“Then you will die here. Without a name. Without anyone knowing to weep for your loss.”

The warlock’s shoulders shrugged slightly. He twisted his scythe up and planted the butt of the shaft onto the ground next to him. He turned his body slightly and planted his feet, looking squarely at the death knight. Holding up his right arm, the warlock spoke a few words and then flames appeared and swirled around his hand.

The death knight snarled and pointed at the warlock, a bolt of blood red light flying from its fingers towards the robed man. The warlock dodged to the side, barely avoiding the bolt as it flew past his shoulder. The death knight ran forward, gripping its sword and bringing its blade around in an arc at its enemy. The warlock spoke one final word and the flames around his hand flew forward and struck the the death knight in the chest.

The death knight grunted and stumbled slightly, but continued to surge forward with its sword slashing through the air. The warlock dropped his hand and grabbed his weapon. The scythe blocked the sword. The death knight continued to push forward as it tried to keep the warlock off balance. 

The warlock held his scythe up as the death knight pushed against it with his blade. The warlock was forced to take several steps backwards before planting his foot down to brace himself and twisting his scythe around. The death knight’s blade slide to the side and its owner followed, taking a step past its prey. The warlock reached to his belt and grabbed a ceramic bulb that was hanging there and threw it into the back of the death knight as it passed. The bulb shattered and a dark gray powder showered the death knight’s armor. The warlock skipped back a couple of steps and raised his hand again, casting a bolt of fire at the death knight.

The powder sizzled and flashed around the death knight, engulfing it in a brief ball of fire. The winds of Icecrown tore at the smoke and flames and blew them away from the blackened form of the death knight. It turned to face the warlock again just as he had started another casting. Before the death knight could do anything to stop the spell, a bolt of bright green fire shot from the warlock’s hand and struck the death knight squarely in the chest. It stumbled back into the mountain side.

The death knight reached up and placed a hand on his chest plate. It could feel a gap in the armor. Pulling its fingers back from the tear in the metal, the death knight growled as it reached back and pushed itself off of the rocks. Then, without attacking, the death knight turned and ran to the side of the rocky wall and around an outcropping. The warlock watched in surprise as the death knight retreated and momentarily lost sight of his enemy. Holding tightly to his weapon, the warlock sprinted towards the spot where the death knight had disappeared.

As the warlock turned the corner, he saw the death knight climbing onto the back of one of the skeletal gryphons that its kind favored. The warlock cast another bolt of flame at the death knight, but missed the mark in his haste. The death knight climbed onto the undead gryphon and looked back at the warlock, its red eyes glowing with hatred at the one who had caused him to abandon the field of combat. The death knight kicked the flanks of the gryphon and it lifted up into the air. Within moments, it was lost to the storms of icecrown. 

The warlock watched the outline of the rider and its mount fade into the snowstorm. He held his weapon at his side and flames continued to dance around his hand as the warlock watched the sky. It was only after several moments the warlock decided that the death knight was not circling around to attack again and relinquished the spell. The flames around the warlocks hand drifted on the winds as he turned and began walking back towards the entrance of the cave.

Faris slid off his gryphon and looked at the exterior of the Shadow Vault. The death knight ran his gloved hand over the rent torn into his chest plate and let out another quiet growl as he noted all the knights of the Ebon Blade moving into and out of the keep. Reaching into one of the saddlebags draped over the skeletal gryphon, the death knight pulled out an Ebon Blade tabard and through the cloth over its head. Then it slowly entered the keep and made for a shadowed corner in the back. 

“That fel-damned warlock,” the death knight muttered to itself. “At best he has slowed me down. I will gather new forces. He has only delayed the in..” 

The death knight heard a scraping sound and then let out a startled grunt which was followed by searing pain. Looking down, it saw the tip of a blade stick out of its chest plate. Before it mastered its surprise, there was the sound again as another blade tip appeared through his armor. The back of the death knight’s left leg was struck and the armored monster fell to the ground on its knees. Then there was the scraping sound again as both blades disappeared.

The death knight reached up to its chest plate and found the new tears in the armor where the blades had been only moments before. Then it saw movement out of the corner of its eyes. A bald man with a scarf wrapped around his face stepped around the death knight and stood in front of him. Holding two short swords, the man reached up with his right hand and tugged the scarf down.

“You,” the death knight said in a whisper as he recognized the rogue in front of him. “How?”

Erik tilted his head slightly, but did not answer. Bringing his arm up, he raised his sword high and then struck it against the side of the death knight’s neck. Before it could respond to the attacks, the rogue swung his sword two more times before the blade finally tore through and severed the death knight’s head from its neck and sent it clattering to the ground. Eric sheathed the sword in his left hand and knelt down to picked up the helm with the decayed head still inside. Pulling a satchel that hung from the back of his belt, Eric deposited the helm inside and tied it off.

Around him, members of the Ebon Blade began swarming the rogue. Eric sheathed his swords and reached calmly into his pocket with his free hand as he tossed the satchel over his shoulder with the other.

“What have you done?” one of the knights of the Ebon Blade said as he stepped forward and drew his sword.

“He was not one of you,” Eric said calmly. The rogue kicked the tabard on the body to the side and showed the design on the breast plate.

“We shall see. You will surrender your arms and come with us.”

Eric looked around at the several death knights that had surrounded him before looking back to the speaker. “No.” The rogue lifted his hand and threw something at the ground. There was a bright explosion and smoke filled the area. The death knights started calling out, searching through the smoke. When it finally cleared, the rogue was gone. All that was left was the headless body lying on the ground.

Outside of the Shadow Vault, Eric tugged the scarf back over his face and started climbing along the mountain walls that surrounded the keep. The sounds of the death knights below grew fainter as he climbed higher. The rogue only stopped when it reached the top of the mountain and the keep was far below.

“Did you do it?”

Eric spun around and dropped the satchel as he drew his two swords. Standing to the side was a lone imp, grinning as they always did.

“Yes,” Eric answered cautiously, watching the imp carefully. “Tell your master that he was correct. The death knight did arrive here.”

“Good,” the imp cackled. “He’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“Good. He will be happy to hear this.”

“Please pass along my appreciation,” Eric said. Then he paused for a moment. “Voltuk.”

The imp looked at the rogue for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “What is ‘Voltuk’?”

“Of course. Regardless,” Eric continued as he sheathed his swords and picked up the satchel from the ground. “I need to get this back to the commander.”

“Sure,” the imp said with a cackle. “By the way, your shoe’s on fire.”

“No, its not,” Eric answered, flinging a small sphere to the ground where it burst into light and smoke. When the wind blew away the last of the explosion, the rogue was gone.

“Sucker,” the imp said in a sulking manner before turning and heading down the mountain.