The following is a short scene based in the game, World of Warcraft, featuring my draenei paladin, Iisala. She is from the alternate Draenor. Pictured to the left, post-eye-patch.
Not edited, completely out of the blue for a writing exercise, and tied in with a friend’s story, but hopefully enjoyable.
* * *
With only one eye, Iisala watched Shattrath burn. The other wept blue streaks of blood through the soaked cloth she held pressed against it.
They were still in there, nearly the whole team. So many children and innocents as well. She whispered a prayer to the light, feeling only the faintest response, not enough for anything. It left her far more hollowed out instead. She sighed and tossed away the soaked cloth, flicking excess blood from her fingers. Keeping her eye squeezed shut, she wrenched her sword free from the last demonic outrider who ambushed her, the bodies of he and his fellows much worse off than she.
The injured eye burned hot enough she barely felt her other wounds, though she limped and one arm hung useless at the shoulder, thankfully not her sword arm. The last demon’s sword hit hard enough her pauldron cracked, the jagged edges stained blue with her own blood. Gritting her teeth, she flung the remaining demon blood from her sword and sheathed it. She growled at the resulting pain from her other shoulder.
Shattrath continued burning in the distance behind her and she turned for one last look at the sickly green horizon. Tears seeped from her other eye, blurring it all out as she looked up at the starlit sky directly above her. What do I do now? She pleaded, hoping for a comforting chime. Better yet, to wake up. Surely some made it out? The attack was so swift she really didn’t see how.
It was only her luck she was just returning and decided to camp out for the night while she was still a few hours’ flight away. The city was lost, and though she felt the impulse to rush in regardless, she whistled for Erijaa, her fey dragon. Better to warn the outposts from the air and report directly at Karabor. Belaar…how will I tell him?
Erijaa came crashing through the bushes to the edge of the overlook, streaked with fel blood, but uninjured. “We cannot stay here,” Iisala murmured as she calmed the beast and pulled herself with no small effort into the saddle. She then wrapped the reins around her arm in such a way that she could unlatch the small warhorn attached to the front of the saddle, sounding it near every outpost along the way.
When Erijaa finally dipped low in the sky for Karabor, Iisala jumped and then stumbled off her back before the landing even completed, heading in for direct report. She pulled another spare bit of cloth from her tattered cloak and held it against her eye.
A few vindicators and other draenei she barely took note of buzzed around her, words she hardly registered. She only spit out the basics in a slurred voice and pushed into the temple. What she imagined made for an entirely gruesome image, coupled with the buzz of excited voices following her the entire way, provided the only introduction she needed for attention. “Shattrath’s fallen to legion. They over-run the city, outriders ‘s far out as two hours flight. Five ambushed my camp.”
The room began dancing around her and a new pain in her knee registered that she fell forward on it. She also only just realized she continued reporting details, though either coherency was lost in her slur, or she ceased comprehending her own words.
“Get an anchorite! NOW!” She heard an angry male shouting in her ear just after deciding the floor looked like a most welcome bed. A nap might do her good about now. The warmth emanating through her shortly after she laid down felt comforting, though not enough to stop the now-dull aching in her shoulder and fire in her eye. A chiming lulled her further into sleep. Where was it before?
“Tell Belaar…I’m sorry. I’m…so sorry, baji.” She let go then, floating in a dreamless light and warmth.
Notes: A friend created both Belaar (who she plays) and the story of the team Iisala joined and shows concern for.
Baji is a term we came up with together, it is a term of affectionate respect, something like calling an unrelated old man “grandfather,” but not quite.
Iisala is pronounced Ee-sah-lah.
Erijaa is pronounced Air-ee-yah.
I’m assuming Belaar is pronounced Bell-ahr.