Part 4: The Tainted Scar
The fighting continued on and off until the Tainted Scar was reached. Once in that forbidding land the danger intensified, though not from the Alliance. They dared not follow the Cauldron Born, for the demons who roam the Tainted Scar can shatter armies.
Pausing to catch his breath, Vyrana stood beneath the grim wards that marked the boundaries of the Tainted Scar. There was a disturbance in the air, and in spite of the heat of the land, a chill ran down Vyrana's sweat soaked back. It was like being watched. He stepped back, and brushed near Licael. Fixing a look of hardened confidence on his face, Vyrana smiled at the tauren shaman and crossed the threshold, mastering his misgivings.
Time and discretion were of the utmost importance. Every minute they remained in the Tainted Scar increased the likelihood that the demons would rally against them, perhaps even summoning their Lord Kazzak.
The Warlocks, Pwyll and Mordok, were instrumental in the successful handling of the demonic denizens. Turning the energies of the darkest magic back upon the evil creatures, Pwyll and Mordok were able to tear down their strongest defenses. Such an example of darkness conquering darkness renewed Vyrana's determination to do what must be done.
The courage and efficiency of the melee corps shattered even the most defiant of the demons, and with the unflagging support of the healers, the Cauldron Born soon had Vyrana delivered to the hill he had seen in his dreams.
Although he had been disturbed to see Dreadlords patrolling the hill, Vyrana knew there was no turning back.
Renowned for their cunning and intelligence, the Dreadlords’ presence could complicate things. If they sought entrance to the Emerald Dream, if they had become aware of what Vyrana knew, then his attempt to return to the Dream could be unspeakably dangerous.
But he would not fail, he could not fail, and the young druid placed all of his faith in the Earthmother, and in the Cauldron Born. Once at the top of the hill he would consume the fish that had been prepared for him and give himself over to the Earthmother.
No one would find him, no one would be able to stop him, as he returned to the Dream.
Before he lay down to begin the ritual, he cautioned the Cauldron Born that he may contact their druids while he walked the dream, for he was certain he would have need of their aid once again.
Closing his eyes, Vyrana severed his senses from the chaos of the battle raging around him. The demons had grown enraged when the Cauldron Born set foot upon the hill. The ranks of his protectors struggled mightily with the frenzied demons, nearly losing control of the situation when a Doomguard Captain and Dreadlord stormed the hill.
As the thundering impact of the Dreadlord’s cloven hooves shook Vyrana’s body, he fought down the panic and fear that had engulfed him. The demon knew, he knew of the Dream and of what Vyrana was doing. He could feel the creature’s icy hand upon his soul even as his own body began to merge with the Earthmother. A choked whisper escaped the young druid’s lips: “Peace in death…” and the Dreadlord exploded in a cascade of demonic energies, the Cauldron Born’s onslaught slaying the creature mere yards from where Vyrana lay.
As its death-cry echoed into the mountains, Vyrana faded into the Earth, and RETURNED TO THE DREAM.
Pausing to catch his breath, Vyrana stood beneath the grim wards that marked the boundaries of the Tainted Scar. There was a disturbance in the air, and in spite of the heat of the land, a chill ran down Vyrana's sweat soaked back. It was like being watched. He stepped back, and brushed near Licael. Fixing a look of hardened confidence on his face, Vyrana smiled at the tauren shaman and crossed the threshold, mastering his misgivings.
Time and discretion were of the utmost importance. Every minute they remained in the Tainted Scar increased the likelihood that the demons would rally against them, perhaps even summoning their Lord Kazzak.
The Warlocks, Pwyll and Mordok, were instrumental in the successful handling of the demonic denizens. Turning the energies of the darkest magic back upon the evil creatures, Pwyll and Mordok were able to tear down their strongest defenses. Such an example of darkness conquering darkness renewed Vyrana's determination to do what must be done.
The courage and efficiency of the melee corps shattered even the most defiant of the demons, and with the unflagging support of the healers, the Cauldron Born soon had Vyrana delivered to the hill he had seen in his dreams.
Although he had been disturbed to see Dreadlords patrolling the hill, Vyrana knew there was no turning back.
Renowned for their cunning and intelligence, the Dreadlords’ presence could complicate things. If they sought entrance to the Emerald Dream, if they had become aware of what Vyrana knew, then his attempt to return to the Dream could be unspeakably dangerous.
But he would not fail, he could not fail, and the young druid placed all of his faith in the Earthmother, and in the Cauldron Born. Once at the top of the hill he would consume the fish that had been prepared for him and give himself over to the Earthmother.
No one would find him, no one would be able to stop him, as he returned to the Dream.
Before he lay down to begin the ritual, he cautioned the Cauldron Born that he may contact their druids while he walked the dream, for he was certain he would have need of their aid once again.
Closing his eyes, Vyrana severed his senses from the chaos of the battle raging around him. The demons had grown enraged when the Cauldron Born set foot upon the hill. The ranks of his protectors struggled mightily with the frenzied demons, nearly losing control of the situation when a Doomguard Captain and Dreadlord stormed the hill.
As the thundering impact of the Dreadlord’s cloven hooves shook Vyrana’s body, he fought down the panic and fear that had engulfed him. The demon knew, he knew of the Dream and of what Vyrana was doing. He could feel the creature’s icy hand upon his soul even as his own body began to merge with the Earthmother. A choked whisper escaped the young druid’s lips: “Peace in death…” and the Dreadlord exploded in a cascade of demonic energies, the Cauldron Born’s onslaught slaying the creature mere yards from where Vyrana lay.
As its death-cry echoed into the mountains, Vyrana faded into the Earth, and RETURNED TO THE DREAM.