Darkness of Silvermoon

A lone elf stands on a hill overlooking a jagged and desolate lane of death and corruption surrounded by beauty and life. The elf sighs heavily as he watches the Scar within the Eversong Woods, watching as the mindless automonous dead shuffled around. So pitiful do they look to his dead cold eyes. The elf doesn't bother wiping away the stray hairs around his eyes, having never had that much desire to keep it in check as his living counterparts do for whatever reasons they have. Hair is hair, nothing more.

Garbed in heavy looking plated armour he begins to descend the hill towards the Scar, his cloak billowing at his back despite their being no wind, unshouldering the massive two handed sword he has sheathed on his back. The blade's pommel looks like a jewel of fire clutched in an eagle's talons, the hilt shaped in the form of wings. The blade itself inscribed with runes of ice and death. The elf wields the blade in one hand, almost carelessly swinging it, cleaving each damned soul that comes within range, casting unholy spells of frost and necrosis with the other to those not within his swords range. The elf continues his slow march down the scar, not even sparing a glance to the remains of those he kills. Once more he sighs.

"Silvermoon...Quel'thalas..." he says in a chilling voice that would send a shiver up the spine of any living near by. His voice seems to almost have a tinge of regret within it. "The might we once wielded...and we cannot even see beyond our own walls to the world outside. One would have thought that with our near extinction we would pay more attention to those around us, especially with this new War between the Alliance and the Horde."

The cold eyed elf continues his march down the Scar, not even stopping if his blade catches in the rotting ribs of a ghoul simply wrenching the blade free sending bones and blood flying through the air. Soon the trees around him began to look less and less lustrous, and began to look more like the ground he now marched on. "Ghostlands...to think that we have not even healed our own lands, yet claim to be magically superior to all those around us. Even with death on our doorstep, we cannot see past our own hubris." the elf sighs as he continues on his way down the Scar.

It is almost nightfall yet you cannot tell within the darkened gloom of the forests of the Ghostlands. The beasts of this land fall silent at the elf's approach, and then renew their cries and shrieks as he leaves. Even those touched by the corrupting blight know to stay out of the way of one who is death incarnate. As all Death Knights are.

The Knight soon stops and sits down on a nearby boulder next to a broken Scourge war machine embedding his sword into the ground point down. Although one who is dead has no true need for rest, it gives him a comforting feeling to imitate such. Makes him almost feel...alive once more. He gazes out into the forests and the stars.

"Angealion, you're getting too old to be thinking about politics...you're a soldier. Always have been..." he mutters to himself before chuckling. "Ah, talking to yourself is a sure sign of madness."

"Well I'm not surprised. You'd have to be mad to be putting up with those power hungry bastards up north." a voice replys.

"They are simply too set in their ways to understand the grave threat that our kingdom faces...they cannot see beyond their wines and papers."

"Then maybe we should make them see? Show them what the reality of this world is?"

"No. That would be treason what you suggest. I will -not- turn on my own people."

"Why not? They have already with you. You've heard the whispers and denunciations. Freak. Monster. Scourge. They do not even consider you to even be an elf anymore the stuck up prigs. After all you've done for them...that you sacrificed your life for them...that you still do in death..."

"Enough. I know what they say, and I know what I have done, you don't need to remind me...the memories do that well enough." Angealion sighs grasping the bridge of his nose with a gauntleted hand.

The voice chuckles. "Aye, that I suppose the faces do...but you seem to be reconciling very well. Oh well, at least you're being all noble and honourable and putting up with them, especially with this whole mind control fiasco with that Senariul and Silversun's little project."

The Death Knight growls at the mention of the project of the magisterium that had only recently been cancelled due to almost causing a civil war within these enchanted forests.

"Those fops almost finished the job that the Scourge started...but what do you care right? I mean, all you care about is protecting the people, and your little vow to protect the innocent from harm. You don't care that these people who are supposed to lead the Sin'dorei, be an example to the Sin'dorei almost destroyed them with their little scheme. No, so long as it doesn't get in the way of you being a good little soldier, why should you care?" the voice said snidely.

Angealion roared and swung his sword from the ground into the wrecked machine next to him, cleaving through one of its supports in a single swing.

"Do not think to presume to tell me what I do or do not care about! I warned them about what would occur. I warned them that if the rumours of the mind control turned out to be truth, that there would be hell to pay... they were warned that the Death Knights would not go along with being puppets...they were warned by many that the Sin'dorei would not accept their plans.."

"Yet you do not seek them out..."

"Ha. If I were to do so without the backing of Silvermoon, I would end up causing a war that my people cannot afford right now. I would bring death to the Sin'dorei and finish the task that the Scourge began. No...the time is not right for their justice to come. And besides, there is still a war out there beyond these forests." he said with a gesture of his other hand, the other wrenching the blade into the ground once more.

"True...finish one war before starting another. Gather your resources...ensure your people's safety...defend them at all costs, even if its against their very leaders..." the voice said, slowly fading on the last word.

Angealion slowly stood up, sheathing his sword into the back hilt. "The Magisters will know that they are accountable for their actions...they shall be made to see justice for almost bringing civil war to Quel'thalas. They shall be shown that they are not without consequence."

The Knight takes one look at the imposing structure in the distance of Deatholme, and sets off back towards Silvermoon. And his boot tracks are the only prints in the area as he walks back to the shining city of the Highborne. The kingdom of the Children of Blood.

One Kingdom. One people. One Law. One duty. One honour.

Angealion sat within a ruined tower in the Ghostlands looking out over the darkened forests.

"Well, that turned out well now didn't it?" a dark voice echoed.

"I cannot believe that boy had the gall to still claim honour after that stunt he pulled... And the sheer fact that the Sin Serrar blindly believed him without heeding a single word from me..." the Death Knight fumed.

"Ah yes, the lovely Sin Serrar... But it does make one wonder over the state of the Sin Belore these days. They cannot even keep order within their own ranks it would seem. Or keep track of their own officers..."

"It's hard to keep track of where every elf is these days with the war on." Angealion defended as he turned his gaze to the towers interior. A ruined table lay broken in the centre of the room, ransacked bookshelves ran along the walls their contents chaotically spread across the floor.

"True, but the Sin Belore did not take note of her disappearance until a random elf came along and informed them... gives one pause to consider that these are the elves who are protecting Quel'thalas..."

Angealion sighed as he leaned once more against the windowsill gazing out over the once glorious forests.

"Face it Angealion... the Sin Belore has grown stagnant... they have become far too comfortable in their positions as Quel'thalas' protectors and as a result have grown lax."

"And what pray tell would you suggest hmm?"

"Let's face it... no Death Knights are interested in your honourable ideal of reuniting our kind under a single banner, to give them a unified power. They have all gone their seperate ways or prefer to work as mercenaries... You're a Highlord of nothing. Buuut.... you could garner more of your power to make a true difference... to truly help your people and force the Sin Belore out of stagnation."

The undead elf turned his gaze slowly towards Deathknell and the Plaguelands, before averting his gaze.

"No. I won't go down that road... I will not become the monster I was under the Scourge..."

"I'm not saying you need to become that again... just a little sortie now and then... just enough to wake them up. Nothing too forceful to actually pose a real threat to the elves... but enough to make them act and get their backsides off their high horses.... If the Sin Belore are supposed to be the protectors of the elven kingdom, then they need to be less stagnated, far less lax in their tasks..."

Angealion pondered these words as he rubbed his chin.

"For once... your words have some merit to them... and it would not be too hard to envoke my will over a small group of the undead residing there... Aye. For the good of Silvermoon the Sin Belore need to be awoken from their stupor."

"And then once that is done, we can sort out the problem of Iltharen and his friend Lexgrad... I fear that the human is proving to be a false influence over him if tonight's events are anything to go by."

Angealion nods once. He turns around and begins to make his way down and out of the tower alone.