World of Warcraft®

((A new character, from the maker of Sekhesmet, Valmy, Ketiron, and others!))

A pale, almost skeletally thin man knelt in the blighted soil of the Dead Scar, and looked up to the ruined gates of Silvermoon - remembering what had come this way a decade or so before. He could almost see them again, marching single-mindedly towards the gates, despite all the battle prowess and magical impediments that had tried to block their path. Some of those warriors and magi now marched with the enemy they had fallen against. The great army of the dead...and the white-haired human with the terrible blade leading it.

Back then, his name had been Teren Skyfire. Back then, he had been a warrior-priest of the Light - what some described as "paladins without all the flashy armor". That man had died the day the Scourge came - not physically dead, as the walking corpses who had marched on the gates had been, but spiritually. He had forsaken his name, his family, and the Light that day, because they had forsaken him. He had remained in the wilds of Quel'Thalas and Lordaeron for years afterwards.

The Cataclysm had come, and once again, the map of the Eastern Kingdoms had altered. Once again, another human nation had fallen, just as so many had in the wake of the Scourge. It was appropriate, he mused. From Arathor to the Alliance, human nations rose and fell. Quel'Thalas had endured, as it would ever endure. Every would-be conqueror, from the Amani to Arthas, had learned that the hard way.

There were some in Quel'Thalas itself who would learn that lesson too, soon enough.

His current path had begun outside Light's Hope, when he had met the one to teach him this new way, to follow light of a different hue. He continued on his path even with his teacher's death. He knew what the puritanical prigs would say, the ones who fell for that Sunwell-restored-in-the-Light nonsense that Liadrin fed them. He was corrupted, demon-chained...accursed. He wore that last one like a badge of honor.

After all, beneath everything else, he was sin'dorei. He would prevail.

Eleven years earlier - after the invasion of Quel'Thalas

The remnants of the House Guard rallied with their lords in a clearing along the river, near one of the desecrated Runestones. Kel'theris, lord of House Whitehair, stood with his son and heir, Ordevaas, aside from the others...all save for the captain who commanded Kel'theris' personal bodyguard detachment, sticking to his lord like glue...even in these troubled times.

The Dark Prince and his armies had butchered King Anasterian and all of his defenders, raised Sylvanas and her soldiers to serve him, and had created a great bridge of ice from the mainland to the island of Quel'Danas, wherein rested the Sunwell...and in its holy waters, befouled it with the remains of a necromancer called Kel'Thuzad. Then they had returned to Lordaeron, leaving Quel'Thalas in ruins. All present had felt the loss of the Sunwell keenly, Kel'theris and the mages most of all.

Teren Skyfire was deep in his own misery, and now took this opportunity to collapse to the ground to grieve his losses, as the others did, now that the imminent danger was over. His elder sister, Kaleris, commander of the House Guard, had fallen to the blade of the Dark Prince. His sister, his closest friend...his commander.

Even in this pit of despair, Teren knew he would have to rise to take her place. It had been the way of House Skyfire since the founding of Quel'Thalas seven thousand years ago; they had stood at the right hand of House Whitehair, whose lord had sat in the Council of Silvermoon since it had existed. He was the last of that house now, and the men were leaderless.

The Light will guide my hand, as I must guide theirs, he thought.

Coming to his feet, his face still wet with the tears of sorrow, Teren approached his lord, who looked over at him and smiled sadly. "Teren. Good to see you...your sister's sacrifice will not be forgotten. And if she is one of those abominations now infesting our land, we will give her a proper rest."

"Thank you, my lord. In the meantime, I am ready to lead the men."

Kel'theris, to Teren's surprise, looked confused. "Lead the men, Teren?"

"Yes, my lord. As the head and last living member of House Skyfire, it is my duty to take charge of the House Guard, and prepare it for what awaits us with our land gone."

Guilty realization showed in Kel'theris' eyes now. "She never told you...before her death, Kaleris chose another as her successor if she were to fall."

"Who else is there?" Teren's eyes narrowed as he looked to the man next to Kel'theris, his raven hair tied back in a foxtail by a clasp of jade, and staring at him with eyes the same color (naturally so)...then back at Kel'theris. Then he started laughing humorlessly. "I see what you're doing, Kel'theris. You're trying to introduce levity into this discussion. Replacing me with...him? That's a good one, I'll have to remember that."

"This is not a joke, Teren. She chose him personally. He has commanded my personal bodyguard for more than a decade, and has proven himself an able leader."

"I am Kaleris' brother, for pity's sake!" Teren was incredulous. "There can be no one else! House Skyfire has commanded House Whitehair's militia in Quel'Thalas for as long as there has been a Quel'Thalas - it's tradition! You're breaking seven thousand years of tradition in favor of him?!" He pointed at the man in question. "A man whose family is suited for little more than mopping floors?!"

"We don't have a house or a Quel'Thalas left anymore, Teren!" Kel'theris shouted back. "We must focus on survival now, not archaic tradition!" He sighed, calming himself. "Captain Ketiron is a battle-hardened warrior, experienced against all of our foes...the Amani, the Horde, and now this 'Scourge'. We need you to minister to the men, Teren. That is your role."

Teren was outraged. His sister was dead, and now Kel'theris dared to spit in the face of his birthright? Demote him to being just a minister to the troops? He should be commanding them, not preaching at them! "Damn you, Kel'theris," he hissed. "I know my place, and you elevate someone who doesn't respect his proper place over me?!"

"We did not choose him, Teren," Ordevaas, dressed in his tattered robes, said calmly. "Kaleris did."

"Liar! She would not betray me like this...traitors! Traitors, all of you!" Enraged, he unclipped his ceremonial mace and lunged at Kel'theris, hoping to bash in his skull. But before Ordevaas or Ketiron could react, Kel'theris had knocked him back with a burst of arcane energy, sending the former warrior-priest flying head over heels and landing in a heap in the scarred soil. Even without the Sunwell, his years training in the halls of Dalaran gave him an edge.

Kel'theris gazed at him sadly. "I have changed my mind, Teren," he said. "Your place is no longer with us."