(During the final battle at the gates of Lordaeron ! Ones again, huge THANK YOU, Nele, for this awesome RP experience)
With full of energy and power Nele finds her nemesis on the heat of the battle. She grins and approaches him swiftly, trying to distract her target as she appears from the stealth.
"Malcoulm, we meet once again. Hopefully for the final last time, before I end your "life".”
She aims to thrust her daggers at his side to cripple him, letting out fierceful roar!
Malcoulm is carrying new armor, way less potent and intimidating than his previous ebon one. Not to mention the numerous bandages and splinters wrapped and attached to almost every part of his body that is moving. He whacks his Axe, which seems to be only thing from his equipment that has preserved, still as giant and just as deadly. Anyone that came close to him received a stinging, deep gash through their armor. But the swift and deadly dagger is way more potent than the heavier and slower weapons of the frontliners. It plunged deep in his side, but crippling him? Malcoulm would widen his eyes, but there is no expression of pain in those hollow eye sockets.
"I am done with you. With everything."
He hissed before roaring, starting to frantically wriggle, the dagger still inside him, as if trying make it hard for Nele to pull her weapon out. In the next moment, his elbow is brought forward with full force, aiming for her chin.
Nele feels his hard plated elbow hitting her chin and she gets knocked back, dizzy for a moment. She falls on the ground and she feels few people stomping over her as the people push forward! She managed to get up on her feet and snarls, raging as the feral like madness takes control of her. She is too obsessed to get his life, like there was no room in Azeroth for them both to exist! She wipes blood from her jaw, spits on the ground and locks her gaze to Fominok.
He grunted, lifting his hand that is holding the two-handed weapon high, only to barely avoid the claw of another Worgen. Instead he quickly slams the pommel on top of the worgen’s head. The dog roared, blood splattering from the newly formed lump. Amid the chaos the unfortunate Alliance warrior managed to pull out, but his respite was brief. The sharp end of the Axe is brought forward with speed considerable despite Malcoulm’s injuries, almost managing to cut the Worgen in half. Malcoulm completes the notion, the heavy weapon slamming on the spot where the male worgen was a moment ago while the deadly injured male was stepping backwards in panic, mewling in agony… And as he lifted the axe again, he saw Nele once again. His empty, glassy eyes showing nothing. Saying nothing. Expressing nothing.
“Look, I know you are upset because of that stupid tree. I am too, alright? It was f*cking overkill and we all know it. But seeking revenge upon this sacred forests won’t bring back that tree. Rage will only lead to another continued, tiring and ultimately destructive war.” - Is that… Sorrow in his ragged tone? His weapon is brought back in defensive position.
“This has nothing to do with Teldrassil, Malcoulm! This is… personal! You have almost killed me, you have almost killed my friend! Now it’s my time to kill you!”- She snarls and charges at him, aiming to hit his head, full force! Her aim is to snap his neck, to rip his head off, do anything to damage the spot that she thinks is the Forsaken’s weak spot, the one that keeps the body and head together and moving!
Letting out a grunt, he sidesteps immediately, relocating the position of his body as quickly as he could and the weapon is raised in front of his head…Though to his dismay, his reactions after the surgery are not as clean as they used to be. Although Malcoulm manages to parry the first blow with his weapon, to which Nele might feel the sharp pain of her claws hitting solid iron, the second one connects with the tender skin on the bottom neck area, black ichor splattering out like a fountain. He gasps, eyes widening at the gruesome sight that is the fountain of "blood". Something terrifying.
" I was just pulling my <WEIGHT>. Fighting is all I have left. You were the one to pull the trigger, remember?"- He growls as stepping back, overwhelmed. Not managing to muster an attack, maintaining defensive stance.
“What are you talking about? Pulled the trigger?”- She snarls once against, her fingers bloodied! She goes for his neck, trying to block his axe and repeatedly trying to beat him, if he lets his guard down or doesn’t manage to fight back. Her fist would be covered with the black ichor after the first hit, but if she manages to hit again, it’s splash against her face and mask, armor, everywhere really.
“You…F*cking…Picked…A fight…In that desolate, rocky land…When all I was searching with my friend…Were…VIALS!”- He snarls, ducking after every hit his parries and dodges, slowly being pushed towards the entrance of Lordaeron. The ichor is not staining Nele’s clothes alone now, but also his bandages.
“We agreed it wasn’t over when we fought at Ruins of Auberdine, didn’t we? The blame is not mine alone! Also of course I tried to stop you there, you were carrying something that would had been costly for way more than just me!”- She looks at him and keeps going on, pushing him more and more towards the entrance. She is persistent and doesn’t give up on him, and clearly a stubborn one on this, even for her own good!
"Nyagh!"- Ducking after what seems to be the countless blow, he aims to shove the flat side of the Axe towards her head - bonking her, trying something, <anything> in order to get her off him. It looks to be the only quick attack he can muster with his weapon in hand. Which…He drops down shortly afterwards. The heavy ironbound slicer falls down on the ground with a loud clank, so Malcoulm could do something either extremely brave and ingenious, or something extremely stupid - He would lash out on her, with fists and kicks, starting with an uppercut towards her jaw, trying to gain ground instead of continuing losing one.
“Then stop acting like a f*cking kid !” His next blow follows in a flash, aiming for her nose. “Don’t ruin your damn life seeking blood and vengeance. Are you that blind ?!”- His tone is soaked with malice, so is his bloodied, taut expression.
“Stop sounding like you pity me! Or that you’d care about if I ruined it! You are weird for a Forsaken!” - She glares towards him, managing to avoid the first strike, but the second one hits on her nose. It breaks under the hit, and she lets out painful scream, but it only makes her more angry, stand on her ground and moving her fist towards his jaw, harsh and brutally. Fist against fist!
Malcoulm reacts so fast that if you blink, you might miss it…Or be dead. Her fist is now clenched around his, having stopped her as she aimed at his jaw. His movements almost immaculate despite the grave injuries. Fist fight…Someone might have a knack for that feature. "I pity you. You are just as pathetic as me, waddling this world like a dog and not human." He grinded his yellowish teeth from close distance, his chest…Expanding. As if trying to breathe. And his face, despite jagged and dirty, is still pale, still…Familiar and somewhat human-like. Though absolutely no one could mistake those empty eyes for living, emotion-rich ones. "You have a husband I almost killed the other day. You still have a life, a…Purpose. Yet choosing to throw all of this away." His fist holding hers slowly starting to clench with metallic strength…His other hand, clenched into another fist, seeks her stomach area, the diaphragm.
Nele looks at him, holding her breath for a moment as his words sinks deep into her, she realizes she is throwing away her life. For what? To kill one man that is already dead, one man she doesn’t know at all, just his name, his tabard, and not much else. She has created a person in her mind that doesn’t really exist, to set her focus, her anger and hatred at! She felt sad, shocked and upset for a moment, feeling bad for Malcoulm. To her it sounded like he regretted his past, but there couldn’t be any feelings, could there? Nele feels the fist grasping hers, making the knuckles and bones crackle. How is he so strong? She manages to think for a moment, before his hard plated fist punches her in the guts. She falls on her knees and she tries to use her other fist to hit his jaw again as she is in front of him. Hopefully hard enough to break his bones, but doubtfully.
Malcoulm’s head jerks upwards when the fist connected with the jaw. The blow is harsh and the bones creak like the hinges of an old door that has suddenly been pushed with heavy force…Only for his head to drop back down again in initial position. He seeks to grab her other hand that hit him by the wrist, twisting it whilst re-adjusting his jaw with his facial muscles alone which seem to still be working. The other hand keeps magnifying the strength, clenching mercilessly.
" I don’t want to be a monster that kills innocents." The words come out so quietly that Malcoulm wonders for a second if they are truly his own. “First Alterac, now t-this…This pillage. This haunted forest, so eerily beautiful which we call our home. The home of those that even in Death preserve. The land of those that payed with their <Lives> to continue walking on it.” His whole body suddenly jitters, but his grip remains iron. “I choose to keep walking. I am already dead, can’t you see that?” His voice trembled. “What choice is there in this Hell hence the one to protect and fight for what is truly worth it? Why are you and your reckless allies trying to rob this choice from me, as if we have plenty of other opportunities to choose from?”- His body quivers again. Sickly, yellowish necromantic energies, reminiscent in some odd way of those the Val’kyr use to resurrect the fallen, surge through his body. There is this…murderous glee in his eyes now, flickering…
Nele tries to fight back, pull her hands away. She coughs, blood coming out from her mouth, it splashes on his armour. Perhaps she is bleeding inside. Malcoulm could feel her strength growing weaker, she hardly can push against him. She looks up to his eyes once more, ears moving under her hood as he speaks, ears that she still has, one and half of them.
“Don’t talk to me about home, first y-you… Destroyed Gilneas, then Teldrassil… Both homes to me! To MANY! Many of my friends and family died because of your kin!!” She yells, tears falling from her eyes. “I fight to protect those who are still alive! For a better world!”- She coughs once more, trying to get up on her legs to push him, to free herself!
“Mggghghrh!” He clenched both of her hands, twisting them in an attempt to either dislocate and break them before he attempted to knee her in the face just when she tries to stand up. Hopefully shoving her back on the ground, bleeding. His own dirty, plated fist clenched. His chest now visibly expanding, as if…Still breathing. And although he is not, Malcoulm’s effort to at least try is probably commendable by itself.
“I keep hearing about Gilneas…Destroyed by plague and blight, rendering the whole land inhabitable. There must have been a reason, a provocation. There must have been!” His voice suddenly becomes high pitched, as if trying to convince himself. “Gilneans were cowards and hypocrites anyway, they chose to hide and cower behind walls instead of facing the issues straight on…They abandoned us…Not the Alteraci, but the Gilneans are the traitors…They have to be.” Malcoulm’s eyes widen. He’s staring at his clenched fists. If there was a rock between his fingers right now, it was going to turn to dust in a matter of seconds.
Nele screams out loud in pain, her shoulders dislocating as she tries to hold back with all her powers! She feels her wrists giving up at the same time, her fist already broken as well. Her hands are now useless. The air runs out of her as his knee hits her throat and jaw, she is falls unconscious, not hearing his words, easily killable if Malcoulm would so decide. Would he finish her? After talking about wasting life? She has just gotten married and she is young, life ahead if left to live. Her hood has fallen off, her face covered with his ichor and her blood, snout twisted as the bones has cracked around it. She’d surely have lots to say if she was able to, about her home, people of Gilneas, the real story. But she is hardly alive with the injuries.
Malcoulm bites his lower lip. He is not sobbing, at least not visibly. The only indication of deep emotional distortion is his body that is quivering and jerking occasionally as if he is experiencing heart strokes, one by one. Amid the chaos we call war, with bullets and arrows singing and steel clashing against steel, he found his way next to the fallen worgen. Somehow not getting killed in the process…Talk about luck. Or faith? But in any case, the wounded warrior would drop on his left knee, his glassy eyes widening even more as he would brush his armored hand forward, aiming to stroke her raven hair, now revealed as the hood has fallen down.
“Turned by some evil guile, A swift end we would welcome. Forgotten mirror can’t show the truth, And blissful numbness enters us…For when we do, we soon regret, And remember our miserable Pain.”
He smirks wryly. Was he…Humming? Yes, perhaps ! It sounds like a song of some sorts, but a grave, wistful tune. Remembering the words of another Forsaken that is way wiser than him, sporting years of experience ahead of him. His other hand, slowly but steadily, reaches to his pocket for a moment, only to reveal a tiny piece of coal. A pebble at the best. Though this small pebble seems to be emitting a strong force of arcanic energies, searing hot ! And Malcoulm, with a steady hand despite his trembling insides, brings it forward to the exposed neck area of Nele, pressing it against her fur. It burns, but inflicting pain does not seem to be his intention. Instead he swiftly starts to sear a symbol on her skin…Two eagles, intertwining with each other… A symbol of Strength and Freedom… The Alteraci banner !
"It requires but ignorant young, And we are all up in a fuss…The mirror black, we see us clear… And all we now are… What once we may held dear, completely gone… all has left is but a scar…"
He ushers the last tunes of the melody just as finishing the scar he "gifted" to Nele on the side of her neck. Closing his eyes and sputtering a giggle… Wobbling back on his feet. And Malcoulm continues to giggle, a maddening sound escaping his lips over and over…and over again, all the while the battle rages on around them.
"Something for you to remember me…"
He ushered once again, nodded…And with one swift movement, he reached upwards to both sides of his head. After another swift motion, his neck snapped… And his lifeless body fell on the ground, the sound of it biting the dust muted by the sounds of the ongoing battle. And so Malcoulm Fominok fell in combat, ignored by his allies who are too busy holding the entrance. By mercy unseen by his enemies too that stomp past his corpse, eager to lay mayhem and destruction.
![:eyes:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/eyes.png?v=6" ":eyes:")
Hope to see you soon!
The Hand !