adisor-dragonblade

[adisor-dragonblade]

Emergency Commissions

Hey all, I’m getting down to about 40 dollars in my bank account and need to afford rent, so I’m opening commissions to help myself get by.

If you want to support my work but can’t afford it my Kofi is here: https://ko-fi.com/areseise#_=_

Any reblogs are appreciated, thanks!

[adisor-dragonblade]

Death Knights who have emotions should not exist. The very concept of the Death Knight is as a remorseless, hate-fueled undead muscle god that becomes more uncomfortable and irritated the longer they go without killing and indulging in bloodshed. Don't be surprised when a Death Knight is an asshole, they're made to be one. Also don't be surprised when a Death Knight kicks your ass, they were designed to.

hate is an emotion. discomfort is an emotion. irritation is an emotion.  to indulge is to give into a desire (desire is an emotion). assholes by definition are being emotional – they’re being mean.  

and pride is an emotion.

you’re bad at english.

[adisor-dragonblade]

@adisor-dragonblade

[adisor-dragonblade]

Never Too Late...

Adisor had fallen easily into the simplicity that came with overseeing House Dragonblade's lands in Redridge and Arathi. He had always had a diplomatic mind, and managing all that fell under his purview came naturally to him, if it had taken some learning in the beginning.

More than anything, though, there was a comfort in the simple tasks. The hard labor that came with these farming communities, their local markets, their wildlife problems. Lift a crate, bring it over here, set it down; it was simple, easy... Good. This, he imagined, might have been his life had his fate been other than it was.

He felt unburdened, both in the lack of his armor, and in the freeness of his spirit. In casting away his saronite armor, he felt as though he'd left behind what he had done when pulled back into the ranks of the Ebon Blade. The Legion was no more, and Mograine's knights had no need of him. The voices... Quieted.

He could never undo what he had done, but he could move forward, and forge a new path. Perhaps this simple life, one of anonymity and simple day-to-day tasks, would suit him.

But then... Perhaps not.

"Lord Dragonblade! M'lord, there's trouble over the hills!"

Adisor turned towards the voice, coming from one of Stillwater Grove’s younger scouts. He was out of breath, and his hood had fallen back to reveal blonde hair, partially matted to his forehead with sweat. Adisor set down what he’d been carrying, going to give the boy some support. “Easy, lad... Take a breath, what happened? What sort of trouble is there?”

The boy choked on his own breath before finally catching it enough to look up into Adisor’s eyes, the fear in his own shining through. “The Horde! They’ve massed troops North of Stromgarde! There's already fighting in the field."

Adisor wrinkled his nose - it had been all too easy to assume the Eastern Kingdoms would be relatively safe after the Alliance's victory at Lordaeron. But of course, the Horde had presences elsewhere on the continent, not even limited to the Northern regions.

People had gathered around now, fretting over the news. The walls that had been built during the Legion invasion could be reinforced, but if the Horde chose to march through, with weapons like what they'd had at Lordaeron...

"My Lord, word from a Lord Bennas of Summerfast.”

Adisor turned to greet a courier who worked her way through the crowd and handed him a rolled parchment with a seal Adisor had learned only recently. His lich-blue eye scanned over the letter’s contents, brows furrowing at the thought of battle raging in this region, so close to so many innocents. But that, he knew, was the nature of war - and the soldier’s duty was not to bring death to the innocent, but to hold back the effects of war from them.

Slowly, he rolled the parchment back up and tucked it into his belt for safe keeping. The Courier looked at him, expectantly, and Adisor pursed his lips as he paused in thought.

Two years. Two years, he had fallen back to the old ways of the Ebon Blade. Two years, he had made concessions in regards to his own principles, his convictions, his very moral code. Two years, filled with blood, death, torment, anger - and here he was, once again on the precipice of war, people looking to him.

Another moment passed in silence before Adisor sniffed sharply, turning back to the courier. “Send word to Lord Bennas. House Dragonblade will provide what food is not needed for our own people, at fair market price as he said. On your way, stop in Redridge; tell the mayor of Cullfield we’ll need a quarter of our troops in the region - preferably those who volunteer - to make their way North, where the need is greater.”

The cold blue gaze that had always held a certain warmth behind it turned to the West, where the sun hung in the sky, ready to set. His eyes narrowed, though not to fight passed the light that shined upon his face. “And I’ll need armor...”

One of the soldiers local to Stillwater peered on, raising a brow. In all the time he’d been here, Adisor had worn only the bracers he needed to keep hold of his mind, and to control his runic abilities. “My Lord?”

Adisor turned, his boots digging into the dirt as he walked towards the nearby town hall. A pack of his lay against the stairs that lead to the hall’s entrance, next to a long object wrapped in an oiled cloth. “I have been called... I must answer.”

A hand usually covered in plate reached out, and grabbed the object, pulling the cloth aside enough that Adisor could take hold of the hilt underneath. His free hand gripped the cloth that remained, and pulled it away from the blade. Edge as sharp as the day it was forged, and with red jewel inlaid down its entire length. Runes were etched into the flats of the blade, binding an enchantment that made the weapon as stalwart and unbreakable as his family was meant to be.

Adisor stared at his reflection in the sword, as one hand gripped the hilt, and the other wrapped around the blade. The edges cut into him, if only slightly - he was among his own kind once more. The dead had no more need of him... But the living did.

In a moment, Adisor turned back about, standing taller than he had in years as he rested the blade back upon his shoulder. The people of Stillwater that were gathered looked on, some smiling, others already turning to make ready for the battles ahead of them.

There was a pride that stirred within Adisor’s heart as he watched them - it was not the pride of one who had built this House, for he could no longer take the credit for that. But he was proud to be here, to be alive... To know where he belonged once more. 

“Always.”

(( Mentions of @theodorebennas ! ))

[adisor-dragonblade]

Reflection

The door creaked open, having not been used in over two years.

Odessii had known for some time that Adisor was alive, but even before then, she had made sure his townhouse in the city would still be his when he returned. She was that sure of his survival...

He lit candles as he kept the curtains drawn, brushing away dust and cobwebs as he moved through the home where he had spent so much time. Where he had hosted friends and allies over his initial time as a Lord. It felt so empty now.

A sigh escaped him, his lungs not truly needing the air. He had sacrificed so many of his own principles and promises over the last two years. He had been a brutal warrior, and used the blood runes etched into his armor more than he had in the entire time he'd had his free will.

The Lich King was quiet, but still the haunting voice echoed in Adisor's mind. There was the lingering question of what it meant for Azeroth going forward; were more lives to be lost against the Scourge, as another found themselves corrupted by the power of Arthas and Ner'Zhul? Would the Ebon Blade be turned against the living, be they Horde or Alliance?

Was he just another reanimated corpse among a graveyard?

No; as quickly as the thought came, Adisor pushed back against it. A hand moved to slip under his pauldron, loosing the leather strap that held it in place. He turned, moving towards his bedroom upstairs as plate-by-plate, saronite and leystone armor fell away.

Each landed with a heavy clang against unkempt wood floors, each piece being cast aside as though it were worthless scrap. The door created a draft as Adisor opened it, blowing the curtains slightly apart to let the light of day in.

The light at his back, he stared into a standing mirror at his own reflection. No armor, no saronite or skull carvings: just his own skin, and the scars that marked his flesh from countless battles. Here he bore reminders of battles with Orcs, bandits, Scourge, Demons - all manner of creature had left its mark upon his skin.

And there, in the center of his chest, was the largest scar he owned. The scar made by a blade running him through many years ago, and leaving him dead. He remembered the feeling, and remembered his parents and beloved dying before him.

Those were not memories a mere corpse could fathom.

Whatever else had changed, whatever actions he had taken and now regretted, he was not merely a puppet whose strings would be pulled by a master a continent away. If the Lich King did extend his influence again, Adisor would resist - Arthas had had the scourge under his command, and Azeroth resisted.

At the end of the day, he was no one's servant. He was not a tool or a weapon to be turned on the living, those he fought for each day and cared the most for. That was not who he was.

He... Was Dragonblade.

[adisor-dragonblade]

Dragonblade Divided, 4

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

(( Trigger Warning: Mention of Suicidal Thoughts ))

Adisor knelt, as he often did, before the weathered headstone that would forever bear the name of his first and only true love. "Amari Dragonblade," she had been called at the end. But before that she carried the name Moonlight, and why shouldn't she? His love had always been a light in his life, but the kind of gentle light only the moon above could cast.

He'd been thinking about her more and more - since the Broken Shore, since Argus, since his homecoming. She was his anchor, his guiding light, his soulmate... And she'd been gone so very long. "My love... I hope you'll forgive my rambling again. There's been much swirling in this stubborn head of mine, and I never knew someone who listened as well as you..."

He turned his gaze skyward, toward the bright red scar in the sky that shined through a thinner layer of the stormclouds that poured a relentless rain down upon him. "I have been as I am for so many years now... I'm starting to fear I've forgotten what it feels like to be living. My kind, the Death Knights... There's an urge we all have that is so unnatural to me. An ingrained need to inflict pain and suffering..."

He looked back down at the headstone, slumping a bit more in his knelt position. He breathed shaky breaths that he didn't need. "I fought back these urges when the Ebon Blade freed itself of Arthas' control. I willed myself to be different, for so long... But then the Legion came... And I let go, to fight back, to survive. I've tried to go back, but I..."

His teeth grit together, the bone threatening to break under the sheer pressure he put upon it. Plated fingers dug into the grass beneath him, as his eyes shut tightly. "There is a new Lich King... I can feel him in the back of my mind - it's not the same, but that drive towards violence, towards actions only the Ebon Blade would take... It's louder than ever."

His eyes snapped open, and his grip on the earth relaxed. A familiar feeling washed over him, but one that nonetheless made his guard drop. Made him stop caring about the dangers of being this far into Hillsbrad. It was a feeling that frightened him, that his mind lashed out against, and yet he himself couldn't shake off. "Sometimes, my love... I wonder if it would be better that I put an end to this thing I call a life... Whether eternal darkness awaits me or you do... It must be better than this."

“What?”

The voice surprised him, but Adisor knew when he heard it he wasn’t in any danger. In fact, he felt just that bit safer. Adisor looked back to see his sister, staring at him with a fearful expression on her face. And how could he expect anything besides, with what she’d just overheard. “Ode... You don’t need to be here, I-”

“No.” She said the simple word with authority, with drive. With passion. “No, I do need to be here... Stop talking for a second and just... Listen.”

She stepped forward, as Adisor stood to his full height, keeping his gaze on hers. There was still that fear, but also a look of defiance that shined behind her eyes. It was a look she wore well, and often. “I can’t imagine how long you’ve been feeling like this... Been thinking like this. Adi, you’re my brother - my big brother, but you need to understand, I’m grown now. You don’t have to protect me, you don’t have to make up for the time I was without you by keeping... All of this to yourself.”

She read him, so easily, so expertly... It was only a few years ago that she wouldn’t have been able to. Gods, how she’d grown... She moved closer to him as she spoke, until the white and gold armor on her hand pressed against the black, carved skulls inlaid into his chestplate. “I’m grown... But I’m still your sister - still family. I’ll always need you here, so don’t... Don’t think that I, or anyone else would be better off without you. It couldn’t be further from the truth...”

Her hand moved from his chest, to grip his wrist, her thumb scraping along his arm as if to comfort him. It was a sad expression on his face, as he looked back at her. His lips pulled inward as he struggled, grasping at the inklings of words he wasn’t sure could ever fully express how he felt. “I don’t know... If I have the strength. The things I’ve done, the things I’ve become... I don’t know how much longer I can live like this, Ode...”

Her free hand went to his other arm, and she smiled a pained smile up at him. “You don’t have to do it alone... You are never alone as long as I’m here. I just wish you had said something to me sooner...”

Determination shined through her, in more ways than one. The Light licked along her armor as her conviction shone through the dark cloud he’d surrounded himself with. He brought a hand up to grip her arm, lips twitching as all he had felt over the last two years welled up. “I... I know. I just...”

He felt himself lower back onto his knees, and Ode followed him there, kneeling in front of him and keeping a hand on his shoulder. “The things I’ve done... People I’ve hurt... I regret so much...”

Her arms were around him in seconds, and soon his found her as well. Her voice was gentle, soothing to the turmoil he felt, and they would stay like this for what felt like hours. “You’re here now, Adi... You can’t change the past, but the future is yours to make. You’ll get through this... We will get through this, just like we always have... Together.”

(( Just wanted to say thank you to the people who read through! It took a while for me to write this, because I understand that these kinds of thoughts are a real thing people struggle through, and I wanted to make sure I did it right. I’ve had times in my life where my own thoughts terrified me, but I kept having them, and I was able to open up to my mom about them and find a solution.

The people in your life, whether they’re family or not, care about you. No matter what you’ve done, or what you’ve been through, or what you think is too much to handle, there’s always tomorrow. You can get through this, and you can live another day.

If you or someone you love has been struggling with thoughts of suicide, please call 1-800-273-8255, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline, open 24 hours a day, and get the help you need.

Your life is important. You matter.

Happy writing. ))

[adisor-dragonblade]

Surprise beautiful person! Once you get this, you must put it into at least 8 people’s asks (anonymously) who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing bad will happen, but it’s nice to know that someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out. Help spread anon love, not hate!

Why thank you, anon! I will spread this like the PLAGUE. You are beautiful, too, whoever you may be.

[adisor-dragonblade]

Evacuation

“Lord Dragonblade! Azeroth’s forces have sent word - the Army of the Light is making progress through the Burning Throne, we need to get back to the Vindicaar immediately!”

Adisor furrowed his brows, looking around and nodding. “Alright - you all heard the man. Take what supplies you can carry on your back quickly, but leave the rest behind! It’ll either be here if we need to encamp again... Or the Legion can keep it to themselves. We make for the nearest beacon in one minute, or less!”

Assembled forces hurried, some already moving in the direction of the beacon back to the Vindicaar. Adisor looked over to the looming tower of Antorus - Light willing, this would all be over soon.

[adisor-dragonblade]

And now Adi, to complete the pair.

Less sure of this one but eh, it’s alright.

[adisor-dragonblade]

Spot the difference. (Except the being alive part.)

The Knight by weiyong

[adisor-dragonblade]

Contemplation

Adisor made his way back into the camp, after the successful mission with Thadwyl and the rest of Ludlow’s forces. The men and women with him were tired, but in good spirits after a victory against the Legion. Unfortunately, the sight that awaited them would dampen those spirits a bit - the camp was in ruins, and soldiers were at work gathering the dead to take back to Azeroth. There were others - Krokul from the planet, laying dead, and being gathered elsewhere.

Adisor stopped as a pair of soldiers carried one of the dead passed him, before looking to the command tent. Brows furrowed, he set off for the tent, pushing through the closed flaps to find his sister leaned over a map, deep in thought. As the Death Knight approached, Odessii looked up, glancing passed him into the camp, recognizing the expression on the man’s face. “We were ambushed... Bull knew where we were, and we took... Not heavy losses - but heavy enough. We managed to learn his location from a prisoner, though; once we ensure proper burials, collect signets for families... We’re going to stop him.”

Adisor’s expression only worsened, as he looked back at the dead being wrapped in cloth to bring them back to Azeroth. The man gripped his fist, and went to sit down in one of the free chairs of the tent, running a hand through his ragged hair as he stared into the cursed dirt of the Legion homeworld. “More dead... More good people, lost; I don’t know how much longer I can do this...”

Odessii stopped her work, peering towards Adisor. There was a pain in his features that she almost didn’t recognize - the pain of loss, but... But something more than that. “Adisor? What do you mean? We’re here to finish this - the Army of the Light is readying outside of Antorus already, and now that we know where Bull is, we can stop him from hurting anyone else. It won’t be that much longer.”

Adisor looked up at Odessii, that painful look being amplified as he stood and walked over to her, leaning against the table and shaking his head. “I don’t mean... This - Argus, fighting the Legion. It’s... Ode, you can’t possibly understand what it’s like - existing like I do. Walking by the dead, and being reminded of that feeling... Feeling your life slipping away.”

With pure heartache in his eyes, he spoke to his sister, a quiet echo as the words passed his lips. “I know how it feels to die... Every friend I’ve known who’s died, every one of our soldiers... I know that pain, that fear, that horror. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like that...”

Odessii’s lips parted, fear showing through her features as she went to cup a hand over Adisor’s shoulder. “Adi, whatever you’re going through, I can help you... I’m right here, and I always will be.”

Instead of pulling her close, or looking at her once more, Adisor shrugged the hand away, standing and turning towards the opening of the tent. “You can’t help me with this, Ode... Nothing will change what I am, take away this feeling. I need to think for a bit. On my own... Away from this carnage.”

He left the tent, leaving Ode staring back with fear and shock. All of this, he’d been carrying with him - it showed, of course, but never did she imagine that it was weighing so heavily upon her brother.

As Adisor walked, he thought on life - and his lack of it. He left camp, thinking on his existence, a shell of a man that once was, whose soul now hovered some ways behind him instead of nestling within his chest. This was his existence, and it was a horrible nightmare at times, and a bad dream at all others. How long could he push through this feeling, this dread - how long could he force himself to have the will to stay alive?

His thoughts were interrupted, though - as a blue hand shot into his gaze towards the ground. The fist clenched around his throat, and soon Adisor found himself lifted into the air, staring down at an all-too-familiar Draenei, with blackness where his eyes should have been glowing. “Adisor... You and I need to talk awhile in private.”

Darkness surrounded them, as shadows carried the pair away. Away from Odessii, her people... Away from everything...

[adisor-dragonblade]

Adisor continued holding what demons he could at bay, with aid from the rest of the forces he’d brought. The Death Knight watched as the pair of wolves moved for the main target, before rallying his people to hold the line. Keep the demons divided - keep them away from the others. “This fight isn’t done yet! Stand strong, brothers and sisters - this fight is almost won!”

The Isles had taken away eight months of his life... The Legion, Bull, had stranded him, and left him lost in his own suffering. Still, he suffered - still, he endured. He thought on who he was, trying to ground himself in this moment. He was a Dragonblade - a born warrior, a born fighter. Even in death, he fought, with all his might, so that others might not have to. The Legion would be ended, and this would be one of many victories against them on this cursed world.

As his sword cleaved another demon, the cry of victory rang out. Adisor looked back to Aldreus and Thadwyl, in time to see the both of them holding aloft the demon’s heart. Around him, soldiers celebrated: cries of victory, of pride, and Adisor certainly felt that, but even as he and the rest of his people fought tooth-and-nail with that renewed vigor, he couldn’t help but glance down. Down at the bodies of those that had followed them... A worthwhile sacrifice, given their victory - but was it? Was it ever? Questions for another time, perhaps... For now - the war waged on.

(( @longclawofgilneas @aldreusreinhold @earthspeaker-twins @araethius ))

The Assault.

Soldiers were lined up in an orderly fashion, dressed in the colors of red and gold, that of the Ludlow banner while many held the standards of the house colors as well. At the front of the large group, Thadwyl stood beside the command tent with papers in hand, giving them another look over before moving over to stand with those he knew well in the ranks. as well as his friend and comrade, Aldreus Reinhold. They stood before the spire of the tower that they had pinpointed to where the enemy was- led by an Inquisitor by the name of Zera’tesh.

“It is time, brothah… Time to take out th’ enemy that has been watching us and posing threats. And soon, we will be home… Is everyone ready?” He looked to the others of their group, as well as the soldiers lining the front, pacing back and forth as he addressed them all for a speech. “Soldiers of th’ Alliance! Soldiers of Ludlow! T’day is the day that we are t’ take the fight to th’ enemy and end this Crusade that they wish t’ push upon our home! We shall fight t’ win, and ensure that they will not see another day, an’ off into th’ nether they will go! Gather up! We fight!” His blade was drawn as he looked to his comrades that helped lead the forces, glowing blue eyes showing fury and pride all in one for his fellow soldiers and friends, ready to finish this fight. “CHARGE!” And soon, he was leading the fight into the fray, already being taken head on by what seemed like an onslaught of Eredar demons protecting the fortress, shouting out commands in their language full of malice.

(( @aldreusreinhold @earthspeaker-twins @araethius @odessii-dragonblade ))

[adisor-dragonblade]

Jason Momoa by Cybele Malinowski | American Way

[adisor-dragonblade]

Adisor nodded towards Thadwyl at the compliments of the dragon, raising a brow as Ilzreig let out another roar. If he were being honest, the risen dragon hadn’t been summoned into combat before, and Adisor was taking something of a risk in doing so. If the drake had limits, he sure as shit didn’t know what they were - but it mattered little, for they were making their push towards the spire.

Adisor turned back to the men Ode had diverted for him, while she kept up their own efforts on Argus. A good quarter of those they’d brought were with Adisor now, and followed his lead, as well as that of Thadwyl. “You heard the man! We push forward - shore up the ranks, and keep those shields safe! Spearmen, take point; archers, thin out the demons’ back ranks!”

The forces moved as Adisor commanded - he recognized some by name. More than perhaps he should, given the risk... Given the possibility they would die here. They came from all walks of life - they were farmer’s sons, blacksmiths’ daughters, reformed criminals... Adisor had taken all types when he started this House, and Odessii followed up on his promise.

Adisor turned back to the fight, swinging his sword to help cut through the Demons. The imp ahead was certainly imposing - and he was at a loss for how to stop it, other than the easiest go-to: hit it until it dies. “Archers! Focus fire on the Imp! Bring it down!”

Then the Fel flames - damn but if the Legion didn’t throw everything they had in a fight. Adisor broke ranks, rushing towards the destination of the Fel flame and hoping he wasn’t too late. But the fighting was thick, and despite what he’d like to think, Adisor wasn’t as fast as a cast fireball. He still rushed as though he could intercept the spell, but in truth, it would be up to those it targeted to protect themselves.

@longclawofgilneas @aldreusreinhold @earthspeaker-twins @araethius

The Assault.

Soldiers were lined up in an orderly fashion, dressed in the colors of red and gold, that of the Ludlow banner while many held the standards of the house colors as well. At the front of the large group, Thadwyl stood beside the command tent with papers in hand, giving them another look over before moving over to stand with those he knew well in the ranks. as well as his friend and comrade, Aldreus Reinhold. They stood before the spire of the tower that they had pinpointed to where the enemy was- led by an Inquisitor by the name of Zera’tesh.

“It is time, brothah… Time to take out th’ enemy that has been watching us and posing threats. And soon, we will be home… Is everyone ready?” He looked to the others of their group, as well as the soldiers lining the front, pacing back and forth as he addressed them all for a speech. “Soldiers of th’ Alliance! Soldiers of Ludlow! T’day is the day that we are t’ take the fight to th’ enemy and end this Crusade that they wish t’ push upon our home! We shall fight t’ win, and ensure that they will not see another day, an’ off into th’ nether they will go! Gather up! We fight!” His blade was drawn as he looked to his comrades that helped lead the forces, glowing blue eyes showing fury and pride all in one for his fellow soldiers and friends, ready to finish this fight. “CHARGE!” And soon, he was leading the fight into the fray, already being taken head on by what seemed like an onslaught of Eredar demons protecting the fortress, shouting out commands in their language full of malice.

(( @aldreusreinhold @earthspeaker-twins @araethius @odessii-dragonblade ))

[adisor-dragonblade]

Here he was, once again - a land scarred by Fel, hordes of the demons ahead of him, with soldiers at his back, and at his side. The last time Adisor was in this position, he was lost onto the Broken Isles - and presumed dead by those that knew him. Some of whom he stood alongside now - with his good eye, he glanced at Thadwyl, smiling as he listened to the man rally Ludlow’s soldiers. There was the definite spark of leadership that Adisor had once seen in himself, and perhaps he still had... But he no longer felt he deserved.

As his fellow Death Knight drew his weapon, Adisor drew his own - eye catching the glint off of the long, red embedding down the middle of the blade, springing from a hilt shaped like a dragon’s claws. He caught the blade in his free hand, running his saronite glove along its edge as he took a moment to remember what the weapon meant. Passed down over generations.. Forged by the woman who set his family on the benevolent path they exemplified - that his sister lived her entire life by. The blade would never dull, would never break - it was enchanted for such.

Adisor turned, lifting the weapon in the air as a silent signal for House Dragonblade’s forces to charge with those of Ludlow, the Death Knight turning quickly to enter the fray alongside the others in the front line. With one hand he swung his blade, greatsword though it was, calling on his previous life as a warrior of Lordaeron. The other hand shot out, Adisor gritting his teeth as tendrils of the blood coursing through his veins shot out and ensnared an Eredar, pulling the demon back to the Lord, who brought his sword down into his enemy’s shoulder, carving into the Fel-pocked flesh.

The battle raged around him, and Adisor wrinkled his nose, lifting his free hand to stare at the soft, red glow coming from the bracer beneath his pauldron. He gripped his hand into a fist, looking to the sky as he flexed his hand to activate another rune, a deathly roar filling the air, just on-par with the sounds of battle that already surrounded them. Adisor thrust the hand back out towards the opposing demon army, and the sound of wings could be heard as what seemed like rotting remains of a Stormdrake from the Broken Isles swooped over the forces combatting the Legion, crashing into a group of demons on the edge of the opposing force as it landed.

The dragon let out another haunting cry, tearing into the demons with fangs and claws alike, before letting out a bout of cursed, glowing-red breath to overtake a line of demons. Adisor himself turned back to the battle at hand in the front lines, bringing his sword down on another demon. If he were alive, he imagined his heart would be racing - but for now he focused on the fight. One kill, then another, then another - and soon enough, there’d be no demons left alive.

@longclawofgilneas @aldreusreinhold @earthspeaker-twins @araethius

The Assault.

Soldiers were lined up in an orderly fashion, dressed in the colors of red and gold, that of the Ludlow banner while many held the standards of the house colors as well. At the front of the large group, Thadwyl stood beside the command tent with papers in hand, giving them another look over before moving over to stand with those he knew well in the ranks. as well as his friend and comrade, Aldreus Reinhold. They stood before the spire of the tower that they had pinpointed to where the enemy was- led by an Inquisitor by the name of Zera’tesh.

“It is time, brothah… Time to take out th’ enemy that has been watching us and posing threats. And soon, we will be home… Is everyone ready?” He looked to the others of their group, as well as the soldiers lining the front, pacing back and forth as he addressed them all for a speech. “Soldiers of th’ Alliance! Soldiers of Ludlow! T’day is the day that we are t’ take the fight to th’ enemy and end this Crusade that they wish t’ push upon our home! We shall fight t’ win, and ensure that they will not see another day, an’ off into th’ nether they will go! Gather up! We fight!” His blade was drawn as he looked to his comrades that helped lead the forces, glowing blue eyes showing fury and pride all in one for his fellow soldiers and friends, ready to finish this fight. “CHARGE!” And soon, he was leading the fight into the fray, already being taken head on by what seemed like an onslaught of Eredar demons protecting the fortress, shouting out commands in their language full of malice.

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