The Beginning of the End.

[Azolg]

The Beginning of the End: Madness

I. Am. Free.

After such a long time fighting everything, and such a long time trying to do the right thing - Makaroth Bloodaxe had finally found freedom. A true peace and tranquility in releasing his anger and rage. Without Emotion to worry about - There was nothing to stop him from following his hearts desires exactly; even if it included the destruction and downfall of those he cared for and adored deeply. His mind was focused on the goal ahead, and the new masters he served had given him the skillset to do so. He'd become a monster and monsters were free to do as they pleased.

Once more he'd taken the demons gifts and his body had once more mutated. Stolen away in the lowest point of his grief, the Legion protected him against the bargain with the Spirits. Though he'd done this willingly, what he'd given up in return was incomprehensible. His very soul was now tethered to the Twisting Nether, granting him protection from the Spirits vengeful nature. And that was just the start of his transformation. An ashen red tinge had become of his skin; similar to the fel-orcs of the alternative draenor. Spikes had erupted from his arms once more and his muscle mass had increased tenfold. The amour he'd worn beforehand now was a part of his body - Fused to his skin and offering a sort of metal natural hide across his legs and midsection. Perhaps the most drastric of his mutations was the fact his entire left hand had now become one large spike with several others poking off it - Nosh'marak and his sister Threkna would be proud of such an implement.

Threkna. Just another name now, another face to butcher that stood against the Legions might. Once he'd considered her Sister, now she was simply meat to be impaled.

Sight had returned to both his eyes due to the mutations, though both eyes now simply glowed a burning blood red colour - The sight of the Legion well established within him. A soft growl escaped Makaroth's throat as he looked around the area he was feeding his Felhound in on the Broken Shore. Perhaps the most interesting and final transformation was the return of his fel powers; not only was he a terrifying melee opponent but he'd retained all the spells he learned as a warlock, and as a result had become even more powerful. The Felhunter growled throatily in return as he placed a hand on it's head.

"A few more moments and we'll be off." He growled throatily, his voice reeling off the Demonic language with ease.

A pair of Felgaurds approached the orc, regarding him with a look before speaking "We are going with you on your task. The master has deemed it so."

Makaroth eyed the pair up, grunting in annoyance "We leave in two minutes." He spat, turning his back to the demons and summoning fel energy to his hands. He didn't even need to channel, nor perform a ritual or any kind to open a portal now. Such had his power grown he was able to rip portals straight from the fabric of the void now. The sickly green circle shimmered into existence, the burning power from it clearly noticeable here. He simply walked into the portal, the demons in tow.

One month earlier.

Makaroth bloodaxe wanted to believe it couldn't be real. He wanted to hope that those weren't their broken bodies, that they couldn't have perished here and now. That the head he held in his hands couldn't be Vanara Ashveil, nor the half-ruined face of the child beside him be Ka'gresha. But deep in his heart he knew - they'd died in the invasion. This was their remains he held and their bodies had been ripped apart from Demons. All around him the Invasion surged on but he didn't care one bit. He was happy to die, right here in this moment - Staring into the torn out eyes of Vanara and join her on the eternal planes together. Except, there'd be no release for Makaroth if he died here and now. His soul would be taken by the demons, used to power a soul engine of some kind, perhaps even be used in some kind of ritual. And yet he didn't move nor did he care of his fate. He knew that in this moment all he needed to do was cradle the head of Vanara and his cub he'd failed. Failed them both, to protect them. And he'd never forgive himself for such a fact, if he even survived the night.

All around him slaughter, death and destruction. Villages were burning and yet he didn't move. He simply couldn't, and besides what would happen? He'd make it a few hundred yards crying like a coward before being torn to shreds. It was at this moment he'd realised something was nearby. A felhunter approached him, growling and snarling as it sized him up for dinner, it's jaws dripping with the blood of the innocent. He looked up at the beast briefly and then closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable.

It never came.

Opening an eye he saw the beast darting off, though for what reason he couldn't know. Looking around he'd become aware of a massive beast demon behind him. It easily dwarfed him by five times and the wings themselves were colossal. Yet it had an elegant smile on its face - as the Nathrezim studied Makaroth with some curiosity.

"You have come a long way since Ma'veth, Bloodaxe." The Nathrezim murmered.

Makaroth's eyes widened in horror. This was the demon that had force-fed him the demonblood! Dropping Vanara and Ka'gresha's dismembered heads he tried to scuffle back in fear. The Nazrethim was far too strong for him to even contend against fighting. "Y-You!" He spat out, which was all he could say.

The Nazrethim grinned wickedly. With a flick of it's wrist, fel-green shackles bound Makaroth to the floor as it stepped forwards. "I spent a long time getting you ready, and those damned Tribe-orcs ruined -all- my work. I see now, that I had to give you more power. You weren't able to beat two of them in one-on-one combat. That crippled Shaman who's always grumpy and the one-eyed hag who couldn't fight to save her life. I didn't create you to be beaten so easily." It's voice was almost purring, as if trying to seduce him somewhat.

Makaroth had no words, he simply just stared in awe. Even at this distance he could feel the monsters power radiating. It was almost suffocating to be near.

The Nathrezimknelt down, offering a hand to Makaroth "You've lost everything. Your Tribe hates you, your mate and cub are dead. You have nothing to live for. Let me give you a reason to fight again. Re-ignite that hatred inside you. I will give you power untold this time, and it will be far easier if you are willing. You were a warlock once before, now it's time to return to the fold." It offered, giving an encouraging nod.

Makaroth looked all around. The death and destruction was endless; he could hear the cries of the fallen. Thinking hard he tried to use the Spirit Link, and yet it was as if it no longer worked for him. He couldn't call his Tribe to save him, and was he even worth it? Rhonya had tossed him aside. His closest friend had turned him away.

His eyes glanced down once more to the broken bodies of those he cared for the most. Vanaras mouth was slightly agape, and Ka'greshas was almost too ruined to recognised. Choking back tears he shook his head, looking back to the Nathrezim. Taking the beasts hand he uttered one word.

"Okay."

The Nathrezim grinned and pulled him to his feet "Welcome home Makaroth, destroyer of the Red Blades." The demon seemed to summon a portal instantly - guiding the broken and ruined Makaroth through.

When the portal faded - The broken corpses of Vanara and Ka'gresha turned to ash.

Azsuna, present day.

Makaroth emerged from the portal with his demons in tow. The Felguard hefted their axes onto their shoulders, while the Felhunter got quickly to work sniffing out the trail. Makaroth grunted, his eyes scouring the forest of Azsuna for their target. A Keishara Wildeye, Nag'ogar of the Tribe. She'd been hunting down demon parties for the longest time after being seperated from the Tribe. A fitting reminder that the Tribe is never safe from the Legions eye.

"Lets get to work."

[Sakinra/Akanra]

Oh noes   Beautifully written, so sad.

[Karak Stormsong]

Noes, Maka

[Rashka]

...Did this demon just call Rashka a poor fighter AND a hag? Hooooo boy! This demon better prepare his butt, IM COMING FOR IT!

P.s. You just motivated me to come back to RP on Rashka. Gj Maka