From the Darkness
Part 6
he blueskin race that had appeared a while ago originally meant nothing to Morvai. However, during the events that had forced his self-imposed exile into the forest, he had come into contact with a number of them, and each interaction was fresh in his mind, and set the fires of anger burning in his skull. One blueskin had tried to manipulate him to her own devices, while another had collaborated with the kal'dorei. Morvai grinned savagely as he remembered the second one. What a treat she had been. Morvai had enjoyed playing games, taunting her and her comrades. However, his forced withdrawal had got his blood boiling. Now, blueskin blood was highly valued to him.
Morvai grinned with savage glee as the caravan came closer. There was no doubt in his mind now. He would attack the caravan. He would tear open that flimsy cage and turn it into a coffin. He would bathe in blood. Morvai chuckled under his breath as the caravan passed below him. The sun began to set.
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The full moon rose to its zenith, casting pale light across a ruined caravan. The cloth had been torn to shreds, with goods scattered in all directions. The rent corpse of a caravan driver lay nearby, his chest cavity opened like a bizarre second mouth, gaping into the darkness. A single horse lay nearby, struggling to breath through a torn throat, breath coming with gurgling gasps that slowly subsided, until the animal twitched in its' final death throes, and was still. The body of its' rider, still in his saddle, was wedged underneath the now-dead animal, his head twisted at an odd angle.
A single spark of movement caused the caravan's supports to shudder. A blue hand appeared at the edge. A single figure suddenly spilled from the caravan, hitting the ground with a wet thud. The draenei hauled himself away from the carnage, the dead eyes of his female companion staring after him in a pool of blue blood.
Wet tears fell and mixed with blood as the draenei crawled away from the horrendous sight. The attack had come from above and without warning. Before there was the chance to retaliate, one of the riders was down, and the other had bolted, ignoring the cries and screams that echoed after him. The draenei sobbed. He and his companion had never stood a chance. Their travel had been cut short by a murderous spectre that had killed her with a laugh and a spray of blood.
A crushing weight suddenly slammed into the draenei's back, forcing him into the earth and detritus of the forest. He screamed in pain as the weight twisted, and he felt the cracking of ribs as white stars of pain danced before his eyes. His head was suddenly yanked back as a powerful hand closed on his short horns. Foul breath and spittle sprayed into his face as a heathen voice spoke.
"You're a long way from home, blueskin. Didn't they tell you? There are things out there in the dark. Dangerous things. You should be more careful next time." A deep, sinister laugh sounded.
The draenei felt a flash of pain as his throat opened. Then, darkness.
Morvai grinned with savage glee as the caravan came closer. There was no doubt in his mind now. He would attack the caravan. He would tear open that flimsy cage and turn it into a coffin. He would bathe in blood. Morvai chuckled under his breath as the caravan passed below him. The sun began to set.
______________________________________________________________
The full moon rose to its zenith, casting pale light across a ruined caravan. The cloth had been torn to shreds, with goods scattered in all directions. The rent corpse of a caravan driver lay nearby, his chest cavity opened like a bizarre second mouth, gaping into the darkness. A single horse lay nearby, struggling to breath through a torn throat, breath coming with gurgling gasps that slowly subsided, until the animal twitched in its' final death throes, and was still. The body of its' rider, still in his saddle, was wedged underneath the now-dead animal, his head twisted at an odd angle.
A single spark of movement caused the caravan's supports to shudder. A blue hand appeared at the edge. A single figure suddenly spilled from the caravan, hitting the ground with a wet thud. The draenei hauled himself away from the carnage, the dead eyes of his female companion staring after him in a pool of blue blood.
Wet tears fell and mixed with blood as the draenei crawled away from the horrendous sight. The attack had come from above and without warning. Before there was the chance to retaliate, one of the riders was down, and the other had bolted, ignoring the cries and screams that echoed after him. The draenei sobbed. He and his companion had never stood a chance. Their travel had been cut short by a murderous spectre that had killed her with a laugh and a spray of blood.
A crushing weight suddenly slammed into the draenei's back, forcing him into the earth and detritus of the forest. He screamed in pain as the weight twisted, and he felt the cracking of ribs as white stars of pain danced before his eyes. His head was suddenly yanked back as a powerful hand closed on his short horns. Foul breath and spittle sprayed into his face as a heathen voice spoke.
"You're a long way from home, blueskin. Didn't they tell you? There are things out there in the dark. Dangerous things. You should be more careful next time." A deep, sinister laugh sounded.
The draenei felt a flash of pain as his throat opened. Then, darkness.