Comes wandering through the woods and notices the Druid patroling and sees a couple of Satyr rushing him, he quickly conjures a fel meteor and hurls it at the Satyr about to jump him, creating a mess of gore and burned flesh ¨You’re welcome Night Elf!¨ he yells, running off into the woods cackling maniaclly.
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Seeing such a maniac laughing orc who clearly delves into dangerous magic, Marivella would imprision him in arcane shackles infused with the void and procceed to assess whether the Orc had truly lost his mind. If he had… a freezing death and an unmarked grave were all that awaited the poor creature.
In the spirit of Winter Veil Zymara would give a present to the little Ren’dorei
Her life!
She would save Mativella, summoning a shadow-fiend to fend of her attacer
With a winter veil hat on it^^
Whistle and walk past.
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Save him from danger and teleport back to Bell’amoire’s place, probably.
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She have the bad habit of saving Demon Hunters in trouble
So… I would return the favor
Grab her and fly to safety, offer her a meal and drink
She is infused with Shadow… I’m infused with Fel
Both are outcasts
Never would let someone like her die
Malaficus consider letting the night elf die but a demon hunter is a valueable tool.
Allowing it to die would be wastefull.
Still saving a night elf so shortly after the war was probley suicidal.
Decisions, Decisions.
Malaficus cast soulstone on the demon hunter then walk away mutering to himself.
You have been given a second chance to earn your life demon hunter.
Dont waste it.
“Oh, do not worry; any warlock worth their salt knows how to soulstone themselves.”
Takes a sip of a glass of wine as she casually flips through her tome, gazing serenely across the beautiful horizon as she sees Malaficus mauled by a flock of murlocs.
“Wait… what do you mean his soulstone was on cooldown?”
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Zymara watches from the cold embrace of the darkness and adjust her violet colored crystal glasses on her nose. Switching from spectrum to spectrum she observes the fight between the Ren’dorei and the blood Troll
She takes notes on her wrist gauntlet’s screen, projected by the rotating purple cristaline orb
It was fascinating for her how the savage primitve creature used the ancient and now forgotten power of the Blood. Zymara blinks a bit amused, as the wounded Troll laughts and calls the power of the blood… from the pools of his own liquid spilled life, crimson chains forms and darts toward the Elf, grabbing and binding her wrists, holding her down by the hands
From the wound of the Troll’s hand, the pouring blood forms a battle axe, and solidifies, like the chains before it, forming a wicked looking crimson red weapon
The experiment is over!
But she mused too long and with a tripumphant roar, the Troll delivers the killing blow
“Whoopsy…”
Zymara hisses and summons a shadow fiend to take care of the Troll while she calmly walks to the corpse of the Ren’dorei; crouches down and holds up her soul stone
“Are you okay in there dear? I wonder these things works like a snowglobe…”
She shakes a bit the glass like orb and tries to peek inside the swirly dark pink mist
"How these things even works? Like a Lich’s phylactery? You will “grow’ a new body? Or just store youl immortal soul, untill the dark magic restores your corpse and you could inhabit it? Or any body will do and you will force out the previous owner while the forbidden powers transforms your new host body, to resemble your original? Ahh… so much to learn! Let’s find this out, shall we?”
She smiled, taping the Soulstone, like one usually taps the glass of a container, with some promising speciments inside
“Yes… it will be very interesting…”
Zymara walks in to the darkness, humming a little song from Argus while two shadow tentacles drags the body of the fallen Ren’dorei after her…
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