This is my story.

[Sethian]

Hristsmash (or How Saranini Really Died IC)

--

Snowfay took a last swig from her tankard. It seemed they would be on their way soon – her compatriot may have not been the most gentle soul, but she had her way with people. The orc trying to wrangle himself free from the plated grasp was easily a head taller than the elf holding him aloof, but somehow her arms didn't even quiver despite how she could hardly reach her fingers around his throat.

”That's quite enough, Midan,” Snowfay said as she stood. ”I believe the gentleman has told us all he knows.”

”You're probably right. For the past half an hour he's been reciting the history of orcs on Draenor.”

”What? Why're you still choking him?”

”I'm a history nerd.”

”Might I remind you we're on a schedule here. We're not the only ones who know about the weapon.”

”Suppose.”

Midan let go of the orc. He fell on the floor, gagging as the blood elves departed.

”So?” Snowfay asked as they headed towards the gates of Orgrimmar.

”He didn't actually know all that much, but here's what he told me...”

–

”Hristsmash was the legendary blade of the first master of the fabled Tigerbuddies which was lost years back as the fifteenth master challenged Sargeras into a duel of wits. Sargeras lost, as he arrived unarmed, but instead of felling the corrupted Titan the master was killed and Sargeras took the blade for his own use,” Cogni read. Narcisa leaned closer to have a look at the picture on the page. ”Look, he's using it as a toothpick here.”

”It's very pretty, but remind me again why you're so keen on going to look for it?”

Cogni slammed her fist on the table as she turned to look at Narcisa. Her eyes flared with such burning determination that for a moment Narcisa saw Saranini in them.

”Because of the archmage! If she had wielded Hristsmash instead of an old javelin forgotten in the armory she wouldn't... She wouldn't have...”

Cogni broke into weeping and Narcisa placed an arm on her shoulder. Watching the gnome cry made the usually so stoic paladin feel a little misty herself. She discreetly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled.

”There, there. I know the tragedy is still fresh in our memories, but at least the archmage left like she had always dreamed: engaged in a fight til the last drop of blood with Deathwing atop Blackrock Mountain, wearing nothing but a loincloth, a spear and a winged helmet.”

Cogni still sniveled, but nodded with a sigh.

”I still don't understand why Tyrande and Sylvanas didn't help her fight.”

”Oh, they did...” Narcisa said and patted Cogni's head. The memory of Saranini leaping over hills and mountains upon seeing the lips of the leaders touch was also fresh in her memory. The enamored cry Saranini unleashed had carried all the way to the far north and made the Gilneans turn to the alliance as they mistook it for Deathwing's taunts. ”Ahem. Did you find any leads upon the weapon then?”

”Yes. According to the legend Sargeras cast it upon Azeroth, the first place we should look in is...”

–

”The Barrens?!” screeched the elf and the troll.

”Why would you want us to enter the cesspool of darkness and hate?” whined the elf.

”Please, bossmon. Can't you send us to take on Al'akir instead? Surely he's a far greater threat than...”

”Silence, both of you!” bellowed the master of Tigerbuddies. ”You are going for an expedition to the barrens and that's the end of that.”

”But why?! What could ever...” wailed the elf. The master, moving like a soft gust of summer breeze, grabbed the map poking out of her pocket and whapped the elf with it, then held it out for her to take. The elf rolled it out. A large, red X was drawn over an oasis.

”The visions have spoken to me. It is time the legendary blade of the Tigerbuddies returns to its rightful owner. Me.”

–

”The Barrens? Are you certain?” Snowfay asked as they approached the bridge crossing over to the dry lands.

”I've learned to translate gurgling into speech pretty well over the years. He either said ”barrens” or ”bar rend.” We can go back and trash the place if you want to be sure.”

”That's quite all right. It just leads me to wonder, if the place of such a powerful weapon is so well known, why would it still rest there, forgotten?”

–

”Well, it's not like the weapon itself is in the waters. Rather, as it fell on Azeroth, it didn't stop. Instead, it tore a hole in the fabrics of reality and opened a rift into a twisted dimension of fear and burning anguish,” Cogni said. ”The infamous ”barrens chat” is a direct result of this portal.”

”Sounds logical,” Narcisa said. She shielded her eyes as the sails of a ship appeared in the horizon and nudged Cogni. ”Ship's going to be here soon. Are you sure we need no backup?”

–

””It'll be fine,” she said. ”It'll be like a vacation,” she said.”

”Quit whining and paddle.”

Half of their journey had gone without issues. The troll and the elf had sailed towards Ratchet on a pretty little boat, but along the way the elf had entertained herself by throwing apples at seagulls. Not only were apples their only food supplies, it also invoked the wrath of the birds. After emptying their bowels on the tiny vessel, they beak-bombed the sails full of holes, so that they now rested against the mast without a hope of catching the wind.

”This is all your fault, you know,” the elf huffed.

”How...? How is this...? No, I won't even ask. Go on. Do tell.”

”Well, if you hadn't taken a nap, I wouldn't have gotten bored.”

”I steered all night!”

”Because you volunteered to do it!”

”No, you volunteered. I took it after you fell asleep and almost crashed us on rocks.”

”Whatever. I'm telling the master on you.”

–

The moon had begun to make way for another morning by the time Snowfay and Midan reached the oasis where the gateway to the realm of Hristsmash supposedly was. They each flinched as their boots touched the ground – it was then the voices came. They cursed, whined, begged one over another, reciting mystical incantations of such strange characters as ”Chuck Norris” and ”Mankrik's wife.”

”Can any power be worth enduring this,” Snowfay murmured. Midan punched her shoulder, straightened herself and walked towards the pool of murky water.

”It's a sign that we're close. The rift must be somewhere close by. Probably in the wa-...”

”Hm? What's the matter?”

–

”Look! Look, Narcisa!” Cogni screeched as she steered their flying mat down towards their destination.

”Blood elves,” Narcisa muttered. ”Hm. We may have to fight them. They appear oddly interested about the same spot we're heading for.”

”Not just any blood elves!” Cogni screeched. ”It's Midan! Finally I get the chance to settle my score with her!”

–

”Alliance,” Snowfay said. ”Looks like they're heading straight for us. You take the gnome, I'll deal with the Draenei.”

”Cogni,” Midan growled. The sound was so full of primal anger it made Snowfay instinctively unseath her blade.

The carpet landed on the other side of the pond where its passengers hopped off.

”So, the Vanguard of buffoons is after Hristsmash as well?” Midan yelled. ”I don't suppose your picnics and bonfire orgies would take you this far.”

”Shut your filthy mouth, you harlot!” Cogni screamed. ”I'll see you dead before the dawn breaks!”

”I sense some hostility between you two. History?” Snowfay asked. She glanced at Midan from the corner of her eye and saw magic dazzling on her fingertips.

”You could say so.”

”SHE KILLED MY BEST FRIEND AND WORE HER SKIN AS A DISGUISE!”

”That pretty much covers it.”

”FOR MONTHS!!”

”Not one of my proudest moments. Mostly because of the smell. It just didn't seem to come off. Also because the tail was hard to pull off convincingly, and you know what a perfectionist I am.”

Cogni's small figure suddenly erupted into a blazing boulder of condensed hate, directed at the enemy paladin. The dazzle dancing on Midan's fingers broke free as she waved her hand and unleashed a blinding flash which disintegrated the missile.

”Such control over the Light,” Narcisa said, annoyed herself of how admiring her tone was. ”I hope you have some ace left, Cog-... Cogni?”

Cogni lay on the ground, puffing and wheezing. She reared her head at Narcisa and groaned, ”That was my ace move. Pyroblast XXII X-TREME mod. It drained all my mana.”

Narcisa bit her lip. She glanced back and forth between the approaching blood elves and Cogni, when suddenly the lingering silence preceding a battle was broken by a mighty roar of a great cat.

”By the powers granted to us by tigers!” cried the troll.

”We are!” screamed the elf.

”TIGERBUDDIES, GO!” yelled both. Two tigers leapt through the air and landed between the skirmishers.

”Halt, evildoers! We are here to claim the legendary Hristsmash for its rightful owners!” stated the troll.

”Us!” stated the elf.

They hopped off their tigers, assumed battle stance, then fell down on their backs and started meowing and kicking and clawing the air. Neither the Vanguards nor the blood elves knew how to react for a moment, until Midan solved the confusion the way she had found to work in most situations: when in doubt, smash faces. She shot forth with a leap that would have made the Tigerbuddies' mounts envious and bashed her hammer against the elf's face in a low swing. She was sent rolling at the Vanguards and knocked Cogni into the water.

The troll let out a squeak as Snowfay jumped him, but quickly rolled aside before her boot crushed his skull. He gathered himself and assumed a battle stance. Snowfay approached him sword held high, but suddenly stopped, as if unsure if it was smart to attack.

”I should warn you that I have been a Tigerbuddy for years. My map shows everything from here to Outland,” the troll murmured. The shaking of his fists calmed as he noticed how the blood elf's eyes widened with sudden terror and he felt to be in control of the situation. ”Indeed! I have tracked all the lakes, mountains and landmarks all over Azeroth! I know every flightpath, have fished from all schools and have gathered almost all kinds of herbs there are! So you'd better back off and...”

”SHUT THE FEL UP AND RUN!” screamed the elf, grabbed the troll's arm and yanked him into speed. From the pond behind the troll had risen a monstrous tentacle, its carapaced skin riddled with glaring eyes and ravening mouths.

”Dammit! The gnome must've disturbed the portal,” Snowfay said as she dashed up to Midan.

”Hmh. Well, let's get pokin'. The eyes look like they're a weak spot,” Midan replied and began to gather energy for a burst of light, but just as she said that, an eye on their level turned red and blasted out a beam that burned a hole deep into the ground. They dodged, but as Midan peered into the hole, magma blurted out.

”I could be wrong.”

Before they had time to devise a new strategy, the tentacle withdrew itself, creating a vacuum which sucked the blood elves, Narcisa and Tigerbuddies in its wake.

Narcisa's head ached. To say it ached was a vast understatement, but she wasn't in a position to think of a more accurate or eloquent way to put it. All she heard was meaningless fuzz, all she saw were flesh-coloured shapes against white background.

”...The master will not...”

”...I thought I told you to...”

”...If I die here I'll come to haunt...”

”...HATE YOU...

”...HATE YOU MORE...”

”...Not talking to you...”

”...Just did...”

”...HATE YOU...”

She shook her head. It didn't make the pain go away, but it did clear her vision. She saw the elf and the troll yelling at each other a short distance away from her and the blood elves surveying their surroundings.

”Where's... Where's Cogni?” she said when the blood elf she didn't recognise walked by her.

”I don't know. Not here,” Snowfay replied without averting her eyes from the runes carved on the wall she was observing.

”Where are... we?”

”I don't know. Not on Azeroth.”

Narcisa stood. She wobbled, but managed to keep her balance.

She was cold. Only now she realised she had been lying in snow all this time. Flakes fell slowly and constantly from the blackened sky over them. There were no stars, no moon, no stellar objects of any kind. Behind them lay an endless white waste, and before them stood gates no less white than the ground. A wall spread both ways from it, cutting the desert in half as far as her eyes could see.

The gates themselves were the tallest Narcisa had ever witnessed. They towered higher than any of the mighty castles she had seen and sieged in her time, so tall that they appeared to merge with the dark, looming clouds. They ran down with runes of unknown origin – she was well versed with many languages, but had never seen anything resemblant of these – and hieroglyphic pictures of nightmarish creatures. Creatures she recognised.

”Yogg-... Saron? That's him, isn't it?” Narcisa asked pointing at one of the images at the middle of the left gate.

”Yes. C'thun was also mentioned, as well as names that we're unfamiliar to me, but judging by the context, I'd say they're in the same league,” Snowfay replied. ”I recognise words here and there, the runes are like primitive versions of symbols the Twilight cult uses, but... Bah. If only I had my research with me.”

”You're a scholar?” Narcisa asked as she stepped closer to the inscribed stone. She saw it now, too. The markings were crude and visibly ancient, but it was not a far-fetched thought that the Twilight texts had evolved from these runes.

”I dabble. Look at this. I think this may be a city belonging to an unkown Old God.”

”That's a rather scary thought, isn't it.”

They looked over at Midan. She was pounding the gates and screaming ”Come to me, Hristsmash” from the top of her lungs. Narcisa cleared her throat.

”So... You and Midan...”

Snowfay didn't respond. She glanced at Narcisa when the sentence didn't carry on.

”I'm not sure what I wanted to ask. She just seems like the type who doesn't have many allies.”

The pounding of the gates continued fiercer.

”I know what you mean. She does have a knack for winding up in strange adventures, though. Keeps things interesting.”

”I suppose that's true.”

”Besides, sometimes it's fun to just beat the living daylights out of innocents who end in your way and it's handy to have someone like her around then.”

Narcisa raised an eyebrow and looked at Snowfay intently to try and decipher if she had been joking, but the blood elf was still so enchanted by the carved walls that she didn't even seem to notice Narcisa leaving her and muttering about ”crazy, crazy junkie-elves.”

She walked over to the other side of the gates and looked at the pictures and writing which seemed to run on endlessly on the white, otherwise smooth stone. There were no cracks or other impurities – every dent and notch looked perfectly intended. She ran her hand over it and flinched as she felt a tingle run down her arm, as if the stone was electric.

She gasped and pulled away as an unknown voice entered her mind. As she stepped back, the newly created memory of what had been said shattered, as if she forgotten a dream upon waking. Only fragments lingered, delivered in the vanishingly frail voice of Cogni.

”...Where... lay... sleep... Hristsmash...”

”C-... Cogni?” Narcisa whispered. She swallowed and extended her hand on the stone's surface again. The quiet voice began to seep in, as if the words were liquid inside her mind.

”Enter, ye wand'rers, on wicker wings
Enter the land of forgotten kings
Enter the realm where dormantly lay
The deadly blade Hristsmash
Awaiting doom's day”

What awaits our heroes? Find out on the next page, because the forum only allows tiny posts!

[Sethian]

Hristsmash pt. 2

--

Narcisa suddenly felt very tired. Her hand had gone numb – it stung as she rubbed it. The voice hadn't been Cogni's, or rather, hadn't been Cogni's alone. Hers was on the surface, but Narcisa could've sworn there was a choir  of others underneath it. It sounded like not all had even recited the same words: one of them had distinctly made a ”n'lagg pflgrm” sound.

She glanced at Midan pounding the gates. The outskirts of the city was already eerie enough, it made her wonder what the kingdom beyond looked like. Because with a bulwark like this, it could be nothing short of a kingdom.

Suddenly, a scream of the Tigerbuddies broke her out of her thoughts. Behind them had landed a beast which probably was a dragon, but definitely not one belonging to any of the flights she'd fought with or against. It had six pairs of wings, or rather, winglike formations, leathery scraps which looked like they could hardly carry its behemoth body into a jump. Its head was naught but neck with dangling opalescent eyes hanging from it, dozens upon dozens of them clumped together like frogspawn. The cluster of eyes swinged aside as it screeched and revealed a mouth hiding underneath it.

The Tigerbuddies had thrown themselves against each other and cried as if they were being eaten – which would have likely been the inevitable outcome had Snowfay not jumped it before it jumped them. She struck at its leg and drove her sword into the crack between its dirty yellow scales. It threw its head back and unleashed a pained cry, then tossed Snowfay aside with its tail.

Narcisa winced as she heard the familiar sound of breaking bone all the way across the battlefield and watched Snowfay fall on the cold ground like an abandoned ragdoll. She glanced to where Midan had been, but she was already racing towards the enemy. Very well, as long as you're my shield, I'll be the mender, she thought. Calling upon the Light, she ran towards the injured Snowfay, picturing her in her mind. As she drew closer, the picture became more life-like, until she could see the fractured bone, smell the blood of the dragon that spilled on her face and touch the cold skin over the wound despite of the distance still between them.

Snowfay's eyes began to haze over, when suddenly the veil was whisked away. She grimaced and stood, noticed the waning glow covering Narcisa and ran back into the fray.

Midan found her science of ”face + hammer = succé” wasn't as succesful against the creature as she'd hoped. Mostly because it didn't have a proper face, and the strange bundle in its place was hard to hit. However, while it focused on her, Snowfay climbed up its scaly tail, onto its back and grappled onto its wing.

Upon seeing the blood elves gain the upper hand on the fight, Narcisa went to aid the Tigerbuddies. They had thrown themselves on the ground and rocked back and forth on the ground, yelping. Yet, somehow she could not reach to them. She felt the warmth of the Light as strong as ever, but it refused to cure them.

”What dark magic is in place here,” she murmured as she watched them clawing and swiping the air. The elf leaned up against her elbow and shook her head.

”None yet, but if you give us some time we'll unleash the terrible force of the Tigerbuddies!” she said and laid down again. Narcisa felt her eyebrow rise on its own as she stood there watching the kicking and clawing. It was oddly hypnotizing.

By now Snowfay was covered with black blood gushing from the wounds she'd sliced on the back of the dragon, where its flesh was softer. Midan hung from dangling eyes on the neck of the beast, swinging her great hammer with one hand at its throat.

”DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!” she screamed with every blow, but the dragon didn't oblige. It screeched in agony, but thrashed and swung frantically trying to shake the blood elves off.

”I feel the heartbeat,” Snowfay said. She sheathed her weapon, grabbed on to one of the damaged wings with both hands and pulled. With a mighty cry she tore off the wing and revealed the heart of the creature hidden in the cradle of bones underneath. Before she could strike at it, the beast went berserk and flung her away.

She landed rolling near the Tigerbuddies, but before Narcisa invoked healing energy upon her, jumped up and charged for the dragon. The horde may have its faults, but lack of perseverance is not one of them, Narcisa thought.

Midan still hung from the flailing creature's neck, but as it tried to jab at her with the claws on its feet, it only felled itself. She quickly jumped over its hulking body and onto its exposed backside, raised her hammer and smashed it into the pulsing organ, crushing the bones on the way. It died instantly.

The Tigerbuddies immediately jumped up and highfived.

”The might of the Tiger prevails!” they squealed and chestbumped.

”We'd best find a way to get in,” Snowfay said, wiping her brow. ”Whatever lies beyond can't be worse than this.”

Narcisa glanced at the depictions of the faceless ones, but didn't reply. Instead, she walked over to the broken wing to have a closer look at it.

”Hm. Wicker wings... What?!”

As she touched it, it suddenly flapped into life. Narcisa withdrew herself as snow blasted across her face – at first she thought it had been a gust raised by the revived wing, but it turned out to be Midan, who'd delivered a jumping smash at it.

”It just refuses to die!” she growled. Narcisa stopped her before she bashed it again.

”It just may be our key to the gate. If you break it, it will be of no use.”

Midan glared at her, but obeyed. Narcisa didn't stop to wonder about the odd hand gesture she'd given her and went to look at the body of the dragon.

”Hmm. Could you perhaps cut this one off as well?” she asked Snowfay, who nodded, grasped the wing and kicked a boot against the carcass. It came off with seemingly little effort, yet Narcisa nearly fell over when she tossed the broken wing at her.

”What do you plan to use them for?” asked the troll.

Narcisa waddled over to the wing on the ground, wondering how she could lift them both at the same time. She managed to do so surprisingly easily – as if they lost weight when she held both.

”I'm not sure. Somehow, they should help us get...”

Before she finished her words, they were suddenly bathed in snow as a vortex formed around her. When it subsided and the blinding white gale dispersed, the gate was open and the wings were gone, as was the body.

”I see,” nodded the troll.

”Onwards! Hristsmash awaits!” Midan cheerfully exclaimed and merrily skipped towards the boundaries of the sealed city. The others followed, although less cheerfully. A shroud of dark-coloured fume began to spread over the snowy ground, creeping closer as they approached. As they entered the city, Narcisa sniffed the air. A strange, pervading scent lingered around them. It didn't only smell of death, it smelled of every death. She could vividly envision a drowning person being burned to death while hanging from a gallows tree with his limbs chopped off while being eaten by wild beasts. Amongst other vividly envisionable things she would've rather not envisioned, especially not vividly.

”Truly, we have come to a strange and fearful land,” she whispered to Snowfay. ”Do you smell it too? We must tread very carefully.”

”The smell? You'll get used to it, just try to ignore it for now.”

Narcisa stared at her, surprised of the whimsical reply of the blood elf.

”Ignore it? I would be a fool to let a warning of such caliber go unheeded.”

”It's not a warning, it's Midan's perfume. Eau de eXé-Cute. She wears it for special occasions. Like when entering forgotten cities of the Old Gods.”

Narcisa wasn't entirely convinced, even when she noticed Midan puffing the scent from a small bottle that was – so she hoped – shaped like a kitten's skull. It was partially due to the architechture of the area they had entered. They were walking down a wide street of the same stone the walls were made out of. Again, there were no signs that bricks had been used; without the carvings it truly looked like a single slab of stone had been put down to be walked on. Surrounding them were rectangular buildings, far simpler in design than the ornate barrier that hid them. They had no doors, only barred windows high above the ground level. Far overhead were arced bridges suspended between towers rising from those buildings, with cages hanging below. There were no prisoners in them, not that she could see, but there was no telling what the presumed cells held.

It didn't snow inside the gates – even their shoes didn't leave any behind. For some reason, this was what Narcisa found most disturbing. As if it was a sign nothing from the outside belonged there.

”Where do you think we are?” asked the elf. The troll immediately whapped her with a wrapped scroll. When the others turned to look, the elf peeped up at the troll with an apologetic look hanging on her face, then pulled out a scroll of her own as well as a piece of charcoal. Without a word, they ran off deeper into the city. They returned shortly after.

”We have mapped the area,” declared the Tigerbuddies and opened so lustrously illustrated maps that not even the usually so cynical Midan could resist the feeling of awe that overcame her. Utilizing only a piece of coal, the Tigerbuddies had drawn detailed pictures of the adventurers, written their biographies, mapped both the area they were currently in and the whole city, as well as gathered a list of all known Tigule & Foror's ice cream vendors.

”Fine work,” Narcisa said as she examined the map. ”So, the city is called W'ntr'lnd. The dreaded lord of the place is called S'nta, and he enjoys long walks on bodies of dying slaves and feeding on the dreams of infants. His body count holds seven digits, as does his bank account.”

”Is there a picture of him?” Midan asked, peeking over Narcisa's shoulder. Narcisa showed her the illustration beneath the fact file. Midan winced at it. ”Shame. I don't like fatties..”

”Oh dear. It seems he's holding Cogni as a prisoner.”

”We will always remember her as a pain in the rear and a troublemaker,” Midan said and shed a dramatic tear. ”Alas, we have no time to heroically rescue her, for Hristsmash awaits.”

”Does it look a bit like this?”

Narcisa pointed at an object hanging on S'nta's wall. Midan bit her lip.

”What're you lot standing around for? Little Cogni awaits her salvation!” she declared and dashed off.

At the end of the prison area stood a tower far greater than the gates they had left behind. This one had no adornments, Old God-related or otherwise. It was made entirely out of gingerbread. Naaru vessels orbited around it lazily: they, too, were built out of the delicious material.

Snowfay knocked on the door, but before there was a reply, Midan gorged her way in.

”Come – munchmunch – out, you villain!” Midan screamed. ”And bring Hristsmash with you.”

”Hristsmash is not here,” came a familiar voice from the dramatically darkened room. ”And neither is S'nta. Not anymore.”

”Cogni!” Narcisa gasped and ran for her friend. Suddenly, the lights turned on, and everyone else gasped as well.

Cogni stood in front of a Naaru. The sentient being of light radiated a gentle brown haze and emanated a scent of delicious cinnamon.

”I am Chri'stmas,” spoke the Naaru in its song-like, silent words. ”The weapon you seek has long since been destroyed. I have seen to it.”

”What?” Midan grunted. Her eyebrow had shot so far up on her face that it looked as if her eye would drop out of its socket.

”I lied,” Chri'stmas spoke. ”I am Hristmash.”

”What a plot twist!” the elf shrieked.

”But there is something far worse going on,” Cogni said grimly. ”Deathwing is contained here, and when you broke the seal on the door, you released him.”

”We didn't know,” the troll murmured, then broke into tears. ”We couldn't have known!”

The elf fell on her knees, holding her head. ”All these plot twists! They're too much!”

As if called, the colossal head of Deathwing broke through the gingerbread floor.

”Damn – munchmunch – straight! Now I shall proceed to incinerate you all!” roared the fearsome aspect of death.

”Not so fast!”

All five heads who weren't already facing the direction of the mysterious voice turned to face it. At the door of the gingerbread tower stood a heroic, if not small, figure, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a winged helmet.

”Saranini!” everyone, including Deathwing – but excluding Chri'stmas because he already knew – gasped in shock.

”But... But you're dead!” Cogni wailed. ”I mean, I'm glad you're not, but...”

”I faked my death!” Saranini bellowed. ”Deathwing was to believe I had fallen so I could have an epic duel on his face when he least expects it!”

The elf swooned. When Narcisa came to tend to her, the troll shook her away.

”She reacts like this to consecutive plot twists. It'll pass.”

”WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WILL LET YOU DUEL ON MY FACE?!” Deathwing bellowed. ”For this I will sear the very essence of your soul!”

”Repent!” Midan yelled as she ran up to Deathwing, pointing a furiously shaking finger at him. ”Repent, you foul reptilian! Repent for your sins!”

”What a miserable creature you are. Do you not know who I am?” Deathwing growled, albeit slightly amused.

”Yes! You're a very, very naughty dragon! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Deathwing suddenly looked like something had broken inside of him. Tears welled up in his flaring eyes full of the hate of aeons.

”I... I...” Deathwing sniveled, then broke into tears. ”Oh, it's true! I've been so mean for no reason at all... I'm horrible! Absolutely horrible!”

With the mighty aspect incapacitated, Midan ran up to Chri'stmas and grabbed onto one of his shards.

”What do you think you're doing?” Chri'stmas messaged – in a calmer tone than what he actually felt I should add – and then repeated in a wail as Midan broke the shard.

”I came all this way for a weapon and I'm not leaving empty handed,” she said and jumped onto Deathwings muzzle, waving her new weapon that had broken off in the perfect shape of a frickin' sweet sword at Saranini tauntingly.

”My apologies, great Naaru,” Saranini said solemnly as she broke off another piece of Chri'stmas. With the shrieks and screams of the violated creature as their soundtrack, Midan and Saranini proceeded to have a duel to the death on Deathwing's face.

I can't even describe how epic it was. It was really epic. Super epic. Supic. You have to imagine it, because written word can't be used to give a proper impression. It had everything. Backflips. Jump kicks. Foul play. Close calls. Sweet parries and dodges and impossible skillplay.  After exactly one minute of the most supic swordplay that had ever been played, Deathwing realised that he was the freaking aspect of death and that being a royal mofo was a part of the job description.

”INSOLENT GNATS! YOU CANNOT BEGIN TO COMPREHEND HOW PISSED OFF YOUR PATHETIC GUILT TRIP HAS MADE ME!” he cried, and his rage shook the very foundations of the tower, which weren't all that stable in the first place, seeing as they were made out of gingerbread.

”You've been a REALLY GODDAMN NAUGHTY DRAGON!” Midan screamed. Her finger fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird, but Deathwing pretended to not notice it.

”I shall rain you with the flames of the boiling heart of deep earth!” Deathwing bellowed. The tower began to crumble and collapse.

”Quickly, my friends! Flee as I and Midan sacrifice ourselves to hold him back!” Saranini exclaimed.

”cute-bunny you, halfpants!” Midan yelled from the door and sprung off. Saranini cursed, but waved her hand anyway.

”Go! Go, before it's too late!”

”I can't leave you, archmage!” Cogni wept. ”Not again!”

”You must, Cogni. You must! If not for your own sake, then for mine!”

”You want me to live happily and forever cherish your memory?”

”Sure, whatever! But most importantly, someone needs to kick that barbie whore's ass one day! NOW GO!”

Cogni forced a smile, nodded and ran. From the door she threw her fist as high into the air as it reached and yelled, ”I will kick it good and raise a pint for you when that happens!”

Then she was gone.

Deathwing had patiently waited for the dramatic goodbyes to be over, but now he tapped Saranini's bare shoulder with a claw sixteen times larger than the gnome.

”I don't mean to rush, but the tower won't last for very long.”

Saranini's reply came in the form of a roar as she wrestled Deathwing while the tower around them crumbled and fell. This is how I've always wanted to go, Saranini thought as Deathwing's gurgles were silenced by the crushing gingerbread and her chokehold.

Far at the town entrance the others looked at the falling tower.

”Goodbye, archmage,” Cogni whispered and wiped away a tear.

”Goodbye, old friend,” Narcisa whispered and wiped away a tear.

”Goodbye, brave hero,” whispered the troll and wiped away a tear.

”Where am I?” whispered the recovering elf.

”I think I got a crumb in my eye,” whispered Snowfay and wiped away a tear.

”I can't wait to lure some boys to the yard and execute them in rows with my new sword,” whispered Midan and wiped away a tear.

After that the group took the re-appeared portal to Azeroth and went their separate ways, except for those who were friends; they went the same way. It was a shame somehow, as with the kingdom of Chri'stmas empty, there was no one to see a fist punch through the gingerbread rubble and a winged helmet pop through.

–

One year later...

”Hey. Fay. Do you remember that weirdass kingdom we ended up in last Winter's Veil?” Midan asked. Snowfay looked up from her book and nodded.

”Yes. What of it?”

”Doesn't it ever bother you that we just randomly ended up in a place like that?”

”No. Does it bother you?”

Midan took a swig of ale and hummed.

”I guess not. It just seems odd to me.”

”We live in a world where people shoot laser beams from their hands and conjure up shields that make them impervious to everything except an ordinary melee weapon, but only if it's tossed by someone who is pissed off.”

”Yeah, but...”

”Impervious to the very essence of deathly pain, but it can be broken by a raving looney hurling an axe at you.”

”Fay, I didn't...”

”Really, that makes no sense. It protects your bones from a fall, it will keep you safe from a dragon's fire and a lich's chill, but if I toss a tankard at you it'll go away. But even then, I can only muster enough PO to do so every five minutes. It's bizarre.”

She stared out of the window for a moment, prodded her glasses back to their place on her nose and returned to her book.

”It doesn't even have to be that special. I am endlessly puzzled how any silly knife can break a shield of pure Light.”

”That's... Never mind. Just never mind.”

[Sethian]

4 brand new instrumentals. Vocals will be added at a later point, so get your mp3s before that happens!

[Sethian]

That said, TMTR got vocassaulted. Oh the horror. :'(

Edit: Oh, there WAS a switch for english hiding in the top-right corner. I never noticed.

http://www.mikseri.net/artists/index.php?id=132699&displ_lang=en

[Kaasrasp]

 

[Sethian]

A certain man is a contract killer



Snow glistened under moonlight as the clouds hiding it drifted away. The glade was quiet, serene, nary a sound could be heard before the headlights of a car appeared around the bend down the road.

A man stepped out of the car. There was an aura about him – he was a creature of the night, dressed in an entirely black attire, a hat, a scarf, a coat, trousers, shoes and the briefcase he carried, all black. He even wore sunglasses despite of the late hour. Seeing him made the person hiding in the glade freeze out of fear momentarily, until she realised this was the man she had come to meet.

The man looked around. Whether it was because he couldn’t see his contractor or to make sure he wasn’t followed couldn’t be known, but he shortly began to make his way towards the glade. The hiding one swallowed as she noticed the excessively large knife attached to the side of his coat. She stepped into sight from her hideout and waved at the man.

“Is it done?” she asked. She hardened herself upon noticing the subtle waver of her voice. The man was a predator, he picked up signs of fear. He nodded and took a picture out of his pocket. The gruesome sight made her cry out. She forced herself to calm down, even though she could feel the rapid beating of her heart thumping in her temples. She cleared her throat and asked, “Did she suffer?”

The man shook his head.

“Like a ghost, a gust of winter, I scaled the tower high. ‘Twas silent when I let her; could hear no sound, no sigh.

She woke and looked upon me, ne’er knew her life was gone. Tried not to run, not flee, for she saw what had been done.

I watched the frost take over; saw her spirit freed. A prayer I did recite her, then I took my leave.”

Such a detestable deed I have done, she thought. To let greed blind me so. Yet, what is done is done and can’t be undone.

“Thank you,” she said and poured the contents of a small pouch on the palm of the man. He counted the coins, bit each in turn and slid them into his pocket. “That is the first one. What else have you to tell me? What else have you done?”

How much more blood have you spilt for my vain sake?

“The night after I raced far, to a distant, sleeping wood. I sought a shooting star, its tail for mask I took.

I crept towards her bedside, but saw she wasn’t there; before myself I could hide, I found I was ensnared.

You see, I thought it clever, appearing like a star. Ne’er thought she was a trapper, a hunter as you are.

But as she was a mere child, she did not seek to kill. No, to tame a star wild, that only was her will.

With glee she did step closer, my guise, it fooled her well. When close enough, I cut her, died like a star that fell.”

The man gave her another photograph. She looked at it and fought back tears. I’m so sorry, baby sister, she thought and sighed. Trust me, wherever you are, that it is for the best. She then poured more coins on the man’s reached hand and again he bit the coins.

“That is two. What else have you to tell me? What else have you done?”

“The third night fell on all land and on seawinds I did ride. I sought a far-off island and did wait for rising tide.

When it came I saw the kill, gliding on its back. I aimed and though I stood still, I did miss my attack.

She realised what had happened and hid beneath the waves. I followed not for should I have the water’d be my grave.

I waited for day, a night and whole another day. Stealthily she came to fight but ‘twas me who walked away.”

The man gave her a third photograph. She looked at it and restrained herself from throwing up – the others had been relatively clean, but her eldest sister was a warrior soul and had fought back fiercely.

She felt tears well up in the corners of her eyes. They stung like embers when she poured coins on the man’s palm. He bit each in turn and slid them into his pocket. She braced herself for the worst and urged the man to go on.

“Not long and I would be done, just one more would fall. This would be a hard one – the hardest of them all.

Long and hard I did think, until I formed a thought. She took it, hook and sink, to her I soon was brought.

She asked my name and what I did: I told her of my deeds. I said “‘twas I who’d gotten rid of your daughters for one’s greed”.”

She suddenly felt numb all over her body. The man took the excessively large knife and held it pointed at her.

“At first she wanted me dead, so profound was her blame. She wished to bring off my head, but saw it was in vain.

Mine may have been the slaying hand, but that was all I was. She saw on who the guilt did stand, who’d truly caused her loss.”

“What are you doing? I thought you served me!” she stuttered as the man stepped closer, raising the gleaming knife.

“That I may, ‘til she paid more, said: “Slay the wretched traitor whore.”

“No! Once I’m the queen I’ll pay you anything you desire...”

Red spattered on the snow as the man slashed a single, neat cut across her throat. She fell, gurgling indecipherable curses as the man took a camera out of his briefcase and took a photograph of her.

“Then is then and now is now, I don’t ask why and don’t care how. All that matters is my pay, who offers most will have their way. Godspeed then and fare thee well. Have a splendid trip to hell.”

The man left. As the headlights of his car shimmered on the spreading bloody snow she felt like she could see her sisters in it.

[Sethian]

New stuff, vocal butchery will follow next week.

Frostbite Orchestra - Waltz of the Maggots

Frostbite Orchestra - In Snow-Kissed Glades They Sleep

[Sethian]

WotM with vocals. Not sure about butchery, this turned out rather nice.

[Sethian]

Unemotional poetry. In other words FILLERTYMZ before something groundbreaking and exceptionally clever. Start holding your breaths, or don't, because I probably cbf to do anything about my august thought.

...Does anyone even read this anymore? I don't know and I don't care, because it's my thread where muses go to die and it will remain here until the end of forum-time.

--

Albert

I will call you Albert,
Even though, I believe, you're a girl.
This is because of my old uncle,
Also Albert,
Whom, as I recall, you resemble somewhat.
Although he did not possess similar coppery braids,
Nor freckles nor glasses.
He was also slightly larger than you,
A meter every way,
But otherwise you look alike.
Well, you have more in common
Than a bear and a swan.
He would be the bear,
But I wouldn't call you a swan yet...
I suppose you still are the duckling of famed misery.
We will see how things evolve by the time I have a car and you have...
Well, perhaps you know.
Speaking of Uncle Albert.
He was an august man,
In many ways.
Naturally he was a man of charity:
He never left food on his plate.
That is why he was so grand.
How is that charity, you ask?
Well,
It saves water while washing the dishes,
When they have been licked clean.
Come to think of it,
Uncle Albert passed away before my birth.
Besides,
He was small and thin.
I believe he even died of starvation.
I wonder, who was I thinking of?
Indeed, how could I have been mistaken!
In my thoughts was my Aunt Margaret.
An enormous woman,
A battleship was dwarfed by her side
And that is no figure of speech.
Actually...
You may not look at all the same,
But if you don't mind,
I would still call you Albert.
I have taken a liking to that name...
Perhaps because my own is Amalia,
Even though I was born a boy.
I wish Aunt Margaret was my mother.
She always wanted a son, whom she could name Albert,
But only had daughters,
Like great lovers, as I hear, often do.

[Sethian]

Dear fans,

I'm sure you're pleased to find that I have started another project! My new band, "Buranamphetamine", deviates from my old melodic approach in the sense that it does its best to avoid any kind of melodic structures and invoking a sense of enjoyment in the hearer. Because atonality is the new hot pink.

You can find the first two songs at http://www.mikseri.net/artists/index.php?id=136099&displ_lang=en. Side-effects may include feelings of distress, being lost, misanthropy, misogyny, androgyny and violent bowel movement.

(Note that this isn't the "keep holding your breath" thing I mentioned earlier, so keep holding, you ain't blue enough.)

[Kaasrasp]

would have been perfect soundtrack for sindragosa

[Sethian]

Muserasp, you have kindled the flame of inspiration within me. My next project will be "Call of the Frostmother/Don't look an ancient wyrm in the mouth" which will comprise of Sindy clips and 15 minutes of downtuned guitar scratching and hammond sounds.

[Kaasrasp]

hahahaha ace

[Sethian]

New stuff.

Troll Metal Alchemist - Päiväkodin Viimeinen Päivä (The Last Day of Daycare)

There are no vocals yet so you won't be exposed to an onslaught of thrash metal about trolls sung in Finnish.

Just thrash metal with a trolly feel.

Edit: oh yeah, new Buranamphetamine here, in case someone is feeling constipated.

[Kaasrasp]

That was actually a nice song! thumbs up!