((MATURE CONTENT WARNING-Gets kinda gorey. But the next one is worse. BEWARE! *spooky ghost sounds*))
Elvae licked his lips. He could taste the Draenei. They were close. Fantastic.
He shouted a command in Eredun and charged forward, his longsword drawn and his men following. As they tore across the wooded landscape, dashing aside saplings and cutting down any wildlife that got in their way, Elvae shouted more commands, making his men split up into groups, five to be exact. Before long they were nearing the end of the treeline. Knowing the Draenei were just on the other side of the trees, Elvae roared in triumph and burst through the trees, into a wide plain that stretched to the mediocre encampment of the Draenei. Hearing his brethren crash through the treeline behind him renewed his strength, and he pushed forward, doubling his speed. As he neared the encampment, he noticed a tall, blue figure hunched over, as if picking something up off the ground. Elvae bugaled in Eredun and his blade caught flames—fel flame—before he dug his blade in the ribs of the bent Draenei. He had heard Elvae coming, but the unarmored male couldn't react in time to stop Elvae's strike. The blade tore into his side, penetrating his lungs and heart, before Elvae whipped the blade out, twisted, beheaded the man, and twisted to his original position, continuing his charge.
With Elvae's shouting, the encampment had finally brought out their defenses: A line of Paladins, armed and ready to defend their families. Elvae's mouth opened in a massive, crooked grin, and he cackled as he crashed with two of the Paladins. They blocked his blade with their mauls and shoved him backwards, swinging at him from either side. He caught the left one in the nook of the maul with his sword, and used his powerful hoof to push the right maul aside. Now it was time for him to attack. He dragged his blade upwards off of the Paladin's maul, and into his stomach. The fiery blade sliced a ragged scar through the Paladin's plate and dug into his skin, causing the man to scream in agony and drop his maul, backing away. During this time, the other Paladin had enough time to raise his maul overhead for a counter attack. Not going to happen. Elvae quickly slid forward, twisting, and brought his blade up to block the maul mid-air. The Paladin rose to his full height and bore all of his weight on Elvae, hoping to drive him to his knees. Seeing this, Elvae took the chance and released a single hand off of his sword, it being charged with green, fel energy, and drove it into the Paladin's stomach. The result was a shockwave that blasted the two apart, stunning the Paladin long enough for Elvae to swing his blade sideways and behead the Paladin.
Elvae's chest heaved as he grinned down at the headless corpse, before he turned to the Paladin he had earlier wounded. He was further into the encampment, seemingly help load the other refugees onto the massive Naaru ship, the Genedar. Furious, he looked to his left and right, and upon seeing his brethren in control of the situation, advanced, flicking the bright blue blood off of his blade. The Paladin noticed Elvae coming and, upon loading three more women onto the Genedar, picked up a blacksmithing hammer and advanced at Elvae. Elvae's crooked grin widened and he dashed forward dropping his sword, and driving his shoulder into the Paladin's armored stomach. While his shoulder quickly began to sting, the Paladin toppled over on his back and flailed about, dropping the hammer. Elvae drew back his fist and drove it into the Paladin's jaw once, knocking the great armored behemoth into unconsciousness. "Elvae!" Elvae heard from behind him. He rose to his hooves and turned to see his men, their red-skinned forms covered in blue blood, motioning at the Genedar. "How many escaped?" one of them asked. "How should I know?" he responded, looking back at the fleeing ship. His gaze then slowly drifted down to the unconscious Paladin.
Elvae suddenly then had an idea. Something so vile, so deep, so dark, so disturbing, that even a small piece of him paled at the thought of carrying out the act. But it had to be done. He turned back to his men. "Call for Zel'Ataman, and tell him I need temporary facilities here. I have a plan."
((My goal is to post one of these a week until I'm done! Some of them will be longer, some will be shorter. Depends on the time period it covers :) ))
((FOREWARNING: This part is VERY, EXCEPTIONALLY gruesome, and gorey. So please, please please please take that into account, and read at your own risk. I hope I don't make any of you throw up. Don't hate me!))
"What is it you want from me?" the Paladin asked as he shifted his wrists in their straps. Elvae paused and silently turned his head to look at the Draenei strapped to the table. "I want to hear you scream," he said simply and turned his eyes back to the tools of torture in front of him. Scalpels, tongs, a collar, an assortment of spikes, and a club. Elvae grinned and picked up one of the larger spikes, along with the club. As soon as he turned and the Paladin's eyes fell upon the tools, he paled. "W-w-wait a minute," the Paladin stuttered as he struggled under his bonds. Elvae gently stepped forward and placed the tip of the spike at the joint of the Paladin's left knee. "Say something else. . . I dare you, brother," he snarled, pressing the tip harder against the Paladin's flesh. The Paladin's face seemed to change. His eyes became dim and his face went slack. He laid back onto the table and stared at the ceiling of the torture chamber. "Do your worst, monster," he whispered. Elvae cackled and swung the club overhead at the blunt end of the spike. The tip dug through the flesh around the knee and made a loud schluck sound as it entered the joint. The Paladin's face tightened, and his cheeks puffed out, but he remained silent. Elvae raised an eyebrow. "Quite the stoic one aren't you?" he asked as he slammed the club against the blunt end of the spike again. The spike dug deeper into the Paladin's knee; about halfway up. The Paladin closed his eyes tight and let out a heavy breath. Elvae tutted and grasped the spike and ripped it out. That finally did it. The Paladin opened his mouth and let out a short burst of agonized screaming. Elvae laughed and patted the Paladin's chest with the tip of the spike. "There it is! That's what I was waiting for!" he said and walked back to the tools.
He set down the large spike and picked up one the length of his finger. He turned and flung it at the Paladin's chest. As the spike buried itself halfway into the Paladin's chest, his eyes shot open and he gasped, taking a sharp breath. Elvae then turned back to the table and picked up a scalpel. He turned and offered a devilish smirk to the Paladin as he walked over, moved the scalpel to the Paladin's bicep, pressed it against his flesh, and drew it across the muscle. The Paladin loosed a wail as the scalpel dug deep into his flesh and hit the bone. Elvae didn't stop there, though. He dragged the blade towards himself, which cut a jagged path through skin and flesh down to the Paladin's elbow. The Paladin was now twisting and turning violently, trying to escape his bonds. Elvae tore the scalpel out of his arm and stabbed it down into the Paladin's already damaged knee. With a final screech, the Paladin went limp and panted heavily. Elvae cackled and pulled the scalpel out of his knee, setting it back on the tray with the rest of the tools. His eyes gleamed with delight as he surveyed the rest of the tools. "This next one is going to hurt..." he said and picked up the collar.
Elvae walked over to one of the braziers in the room and dropped the metal collar in. "And while we wait for that...." he trailed off, turning and looking at the Paladin's southern region. He smirked and walked over to the tray, grabbing both the largest spike—as long as his forearm—and the club. He whistled as he slowly made his way over to the Paladin and placed the tip of the spike against the Paladin's manhood. The Paladin's eyes widened and he looked down in horror, shaking his head. "N-no. . . no p-please. . ." he stuttered, straining to look at the spike. Elvae laughed and pulled the spike away. "I'd never! Who do you think I am? I know how much that would hurt," he said and turned. He suddenly stopped as he heard the Paladin's sigh of relief. He slowly turned and raised an eyebrow. "Relieved, are we?" he asked. The Paladin shook his head, clamping his mouth shut. Elvae tutted. "Such a shame," he said and placed the tip of the spike back against the Paladin's manhood, while at the same time, swinging the club at the blunt end of the spike. The Paladin loosed a guttural, ragged scream as the spike dug deep into the flesh of his manhood, and cracked against his pelvis. Elvae then raised the club and, after pulling the spike out, smashed it against the Paladin's manhood and testicles, once, twice, three times.
At this point, the Paladin had gone limp again. Elvae tossed the club and spike aside and grabbed the tongs. He picked up the collar, which had turned to a bright molten-white, and used a smaller spike to click a small button on it. The collar snapped open, and Elvae brought it over to the Paladin. He then seemingly remembered something. "Oh! Right... where did the Genedar go?" he asked. The Paladin slowly turned his eyes to Elvae and promptly spit in his face. Elvae blinked and shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said and put the collar around the Paladin's neck. As he did, it snapped shut. The Paladin's face twisted in agony and he loosed a weak cry, as tears began streaming down his cheek. Elvae dropped the tongs and leaned his face close to the Paladin's. He took a deep breath and let out a pleased sigh as his tongue gently lowered itself to the Paladin's cheek to catch a few of the man's tears.
"It's been fun. . . but I've got to go. And so do you," he said and walked to the door of the room. He opened it and barked something in Eredun. A few moments after he had spoken, a felhound padded into the room. The hound sniffed the air and growled, looking up at Elvae. Elvae nodded, motioning with his head at the Paladin. The hound howled with triumph and leapt onto the Paladin's stomach. The Paladin had time to gasp, before the hound began digging into his torso. He screamed and screamed and screamed as the hound dug his claws deep into his stomach and ripped and ripped and ripped. The hound then dug his teeth into the Paladin's innards and began tearing them out, bit by bit. The Paladin died before all of his intestines were out. Elvae laughed and whistled at the felhound, nodding and walking out of the room. His job, was done.
((Nothing much in this part, sort of like a transition. Anyway, I should be back to my once-a-week post on this thread. Have a good'n!))
As Elvae exited the torturer's chamber, he looked to his left and scowled, disappointed. To his left, were the barracks for him and his brothers. And of course, his brothers had to rid themselves of their carnal desire somehow. Succubi littered the barracks, naked mostly, or if wearing any clothes at all, nothing but a thong and maybe leather gloves. Elvae snorted and walked the opposite direction. The succubi were alluring, he had to admit, but there was a reason for him to avoid them. Maybe two. One, there was still a small part of him that refused to have sex with a demon, even another Man'ari, such as himself. The other, was that he was just too busy for sex; he had too much on his mind. He had things to do, and the long periods of pleasure that the succubi enjoyed, he could not afford, as tempting as they were. So he continued on.
They were on the surface of the newly conquered planet; it was entirely desert, save for various types of trees here and there, clustered together like moths on a lamp. As he walked, sand kicked up into the wind that ripped at his cloth clothes, which were covered in bright and now drying-dark blue colored blood. He drew the ragged hood of his cloak over his head and proceeded forward to the edge of the encampment, where he would be meeting with his "friend", Katahn. As he made it to his post at the edge of the camp, he drew his hood down and held his hand out to the waiting Katahn, who had his sword belt and sword. He held them both out to Elvae, inclining his head. "Glad to see you were having some fun," he said, looking at the blood stains covering Elvae's torso. Elvae scoffed, belting his sword on and drawing it, setting the tip on the ground and resting his hand on the pommel. "It was hardly fun, he only cried at the end! Bastard was holding out on me," he said, easing back onto a single box, made of purple and black metal. Katahn laughed, sitting on a box very much the same, across from Elvae. "How bad did you cut him up?" he asked. Elvae shrugged, smirking at his comrade. "I used three spikes, the club, and the collar. I let Kvlethnen in afterwards to finish him off," he said, raising an eyebrow at Katahn. "What were you doing while I was busy, huh?" he asked. Katahn raised his eyebrows and laughs loudly, slapping his knee. "Ah. . . well. . . I was in the barracks, taking a load off." Elvae's eyes went flat slowly, his lips pursing. "Of course you were. . . not one for much alone time, are you?" he asked. Just as Katahn opened his mouth to speak, a deep, dark voice called out to Elvae from behind them. Elvae recognized it immediately, and stood, dropping his sword, turning and putting both fists over his chest, bowing. "Commander Zel'Ataman." The Commander stood ten feet tall, with hooves and horns black, glowing green. At first glance, one might think he had a massive leathery cloak on, but in fact, those were his wings. His hair, there was little to speak of, while his tendrils extended down to mid chest. He did not return the gesture of respect, but he grunted. "Stand up," he commanded, and so Elvae did.
Zel'Ataman looked Elvae over once, twice, three times, before raising an eyebrow. "So the Paladin is dead?" he asked. "Yes, Commander," Elvae responded. "And have you found where the Genedar went?" he asked calmly. Elvae shook his head slowly. "No, sir. He would not speak of the Genedar." Zel'Ataman was still, before he stepped forward and smacked Elvae with the back of his powerful hand. Elvae took it, no questions asked, and fell to a knee, rubbing his cheek, before standing and resuming the respectful stance he had originally adopted. "I'm sorry, Commander, that I have failed you. Please, allow me to personally search for the Draenei," he said in a hushed tone. Zel'Ataman grumbled to himself. "That's no use: If our strongest magicians could not track the Genedar, then neither can you. We are leaving, then. To search for the Draenei ourselves." Elvae nodded slowly, keeping his bowed stance. Zel'Ataman scoffed and turned away from Elvae. "When we find them again, which we will, you will lead the first strike party off of the ships. Am I understood?" he asked. Elvae nodded, standing up straight. "You are, Commander." Zel'Ataman nodded, turning to look over his shoulder at Elvae. "If the Genedar escapes again, your head will be mixed in with the rest of the Draenei's." With that, Zel'Ataman sautered off.
Elvae let his posture loosen a bit before looking back over at Katahn. "Get the men ready, then. Tell them we're leaving." Katahn nodded, drawing his sword and picking up his shield, which was leaning on his box. He then re-entered camp, banging his sword on his shield, and yelling for everyone to start packing up. Elvae sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "That was rough, wasn't it honey?" a female voice called from behind him; from in camp. He turned to spot a succubus, scantily clad, with a whip on her belt and nothing in her hands. He scowled and bent down, scooping up his sword, replacing it in it's scabbard on his belt. "Don't call me that." The succubus tutted and walked towards him seductively, swinging her hips. "Aw, why not? I think the name suits you juuuuuust fine," she said as she reached him, placing a finger on his chest, looking up at him and ever so subtly puffing her chest out towards him. He could feel something inside him yearning for the pleasure she could offer him. All he wanted to do was lay with her, right then and there, before they left. "It'll only take a minute," the succubus said, as if reading his mind. He stared down at her, before blinking rapidly a few times and pushing her off of him. "You heard the Commander. We're leaving." She made a pouty face at him. "Your Commander doesn't give me orders, Eredar," she said. "Then who does?" he asked. "You could. . . if you wanted to," she said, shoving a thumb in the waistband of her panties. He nodded. "Very well: Go get your shit, and get ready to leave." She blinked at him a few times, before shrugging, snapping at him once, and turning to walk away. "Hard to get. . . I like it," she said as she walked off, hips swinging up, down, up, down, left, right, left, right. He sighed heavily, again, and drew his hood up over his head.
It was going to be a long trip.
((So this one is early, but that's because I missed a month of uploads, so I'll go ahead and post this and one more, BEFORE, I get back to the regular schedule. This one's a bit bloody, BEWARE!))
"Settle down, we're going to be on this thing for who knows how long, and I'd like to get some damn sleep. So please, shutup," Elvae called out to his brothers. The ship they were on was divided into four different floors, each could easily hold the thousands of Eredar in Zel'Ataman's battalion. They all laughed at him and threw some jokes his way, not quieting down one bit. Elvae sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, looking up at the far away ceiling. The Eredar, the few felhounds, and the succubi were all housed on the lowest level of the ship, aside from the higher up officials such as Zel'Ataman, and the crew that flies the ship. Each group of demons was housed in different units, the Eredar spread out through four of the sixteen, while the felhounds took up a small pen, and the succubi took up an entire room for themselves.
As the noise around him seemingly increased, his head began to whirl. He slowly, warily, stood up and put a hand on the wall, using the wall to lead him to the door, placing his hand on the scanner. The door swung outward after a short series of clicks, and he stepped out, closing it behind him. There was a single long hallway that extended along a massive, three-foot wide window that showed the endless darkness of the cosmos. He walked up to the window and placed a hand on it, enjoying the silence for once in his Eredar life. Back home, on Argus, before the Dark Titan came, there had always been noise. The ringing of his blacksmithing hammer against a metal, the clink clink clink of his chainmail as he moved to get a new piece of metal, the woosh of the clear rivers that ran on the edge of the city that tasted so, so sweet, like a mother's love.
The silence was broken by the sound of a door swinging open from farther down the hall. He didn't feel the need to look; he knew which room it was that opened. His suspicions were confirmed when the click, clack, click of hooves grew ever closer, accompanied by a sweet, small laugh. "I was just coming to find you, honey," the same succubus from earlier purred, walking behind him, tracing a finger up along his right shoulder, to the back of his neck, then to his other shoulder. Elvae bristled slightly, turning his head to look at her as she settled on his left side, placing a hand on his chest. He could feel the same primal urges from before beginning to break through his resolve. He moved a hand to hers, grasping it gently, as a warm, yet deceiving smile played itself onto the succubus' lips. "That big Commander, he's been too hard on you, huh?" she asked, moving to stand in front of him, moving her hands to either side of his chest. He nodded, staring down at her breasts, which were practically spilling out of her skimpy top as she pressed herself against him. "Let me relieve some of that stress, huh? Wouldn't you like that?" she purred, baring her fangs in another smile. He moved a hand to her lower back, nodding at her. She nodded happily, slowly beginning to lower herself to her knees. Suddenly, a sharp pain smacked into Elvae's head, from within, and a voice screamed something unintelligible at him. The voice shocked him; he recognized it. And with that, he snapped out of the trance the succubus had put him in. He looked down just as she reached low enough to do what she wanted. Just in time. He grasped her hair, jerking her head back. She made a slight sound of pain, before smiling up at him. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he drew one of the two long daggers on his belt and shoved the tip into the side of her neck up to the hilt, twisting after it entered her. Her eyes widened, and as she went to speak, nothing but her own dark blood came spurting out, all over Elvae's lower torso and thighs. He made a sound of disgust, wrinkling his nose angrily, before putting his hoof of her chest and pushing her away, while ripping the blade out of her throat. She fell to the ground, grasping at her throat, covering her hands with her own blood as it flowed out of the hole in her throat like a river.
Elvae looked down at her as she gurgled, slowly dying in a horrible way. At least that's what part of him called it. Most of him thought it was a fitting death for a succubus. After she made one last gurgling sound and lay still, he grasped her by the wrist and began dragging her down the hall. He dragged her down the hall until he reached the door he knew led to the succubus room. Dagger still in hand, he reached her dead arm and hand up to the scanner and let it scan her hand. The door made a few clicking sounds before opening, swinging outwards. The various giggling and talking that he could hear through the closed door quieted as the door swung open, revealing him standing there, holding one of their dead sisters, her blood covering his torso, dagger in hand. He surveyed the room, seeing bare breasted succubi with their whips hung up all over the walls in various spots. Then, as they all screamed, or reached for their whips, he calmly dropped the dead succubus to the ground, reaching over, and drew the other dagger, twirling them both to face downwards in his hands. He then, with a terrifying deadpan look on his face, entered the room.
The door to Elvae's room swung outward and in he stepped. The noise he had once been complaining about was completely gone as soon as his brothers caught sight of him. Head to hoof, covered in black gore and blood, his daggers still clenched in his fists, a whip mark across his right cheek, a claw mark across his left. As they all stood, some menacingly, some worriedly, moving closer to him, and began to spout off questions at him, some pushing past him and sprinting down the hall, his hearing went blank. He couldn't hear anything but a buzz, and a muffled voice, repeating something. As he stood there, his eyes glazed over, staring in front of himself at nothing in particular, the voice became louder, and more clear. He finally recognized the voice, and the message it brought with it.