A Dark Angel, Bringer of Death & Life

[redhoof]

The massive Tauren knelt in the tall grasses of the plains of Mulgore. His strength was all but gone from his muscles and it took every bit of his concentration to keep himself up. A great horned owl was perched upon his shoulder, its talons piercing thick fur, fresh blood mixing with dried. It watched with shifting black orbs, watching him, taking all into account.

Eyes, blurred from exhaustion, failed him as he tried gage his surroundings. Using his weakend hands he moved to touch the ground before him. He found a large smooth stone that still seemed warm to the touch. The kind that held many cooking fires. The familiar scents of the trees and grasses told him exactly where he was. This was home as a child.

Why? Why had the dreams brought him here? Here, where he felt so happy as a child and so much pain on that fateful day.

Over the past few months, he had been suffering from vicious nightmares. Many he did not remember, but one image had always remained, the black eyes of the Owl. Most nights he awoke to find his love, Beiame, sleeping peacefully next to him and that comforted him. But tonight he awoke here under the pitch black skies of the open plains. There were no clouds yet there were no stars either. Their light did not grace this place tonight.

He struggled to recall the dreams... Images of the dead struggling from the grave, dragons laying waste to villages and countryside, swirling sands and enormous creatures, fierce battles from fiery depths and deeper places, the calls of animals and the trollish drums of the jungles...

Pain, searing pain, brought his mind back to the dark plains. His arms burned with the sensation of fire and ice. Upon the inside of his large forearms, he felt the intense pain. Through blurred and blood soaked eyes he looked down. Mixed within the red fur of his arms, glowing runes began to appear. His left arm bore the mark of the Anhk, the rune of Life. On his right, a Skull, the rune of Death.

On the black cooking stone, a suit of fine black dragonscale armor, bearing the marks of the Skull and the Ankh, lay before him. Next to it, lie a massive black war hammer and a small ivory ankh.

The Owl clenched its talons, drawing fresh blood the Dark Chaplain of the ShuHalo has awoken.

[redhoof]

part II.

An ancient and slumbering power, long forgotten shifted and stirred beneath waving grasses and small islands of trees that dotted the plains of Mulgore. The Winds howled and whipped as strange and foreboding clouds began to form on the horizon. For all eternity, Death and Life has existed in a delicate balance. Once again there was a threat to this balance gathering in those Winds and the Plains listened to the message carried upon them.

Large feathery wings flapped and a screech pierced the night air, a gift to one of talent and promise… one who possessed love… one who held compassion for his people… one who fought with a terrible rage born of great loss and sacrifice… one who had the will power to contain that rage and make it purposeful. There would be a new Servant of the Plains, to protect, to deal Death to its enemies and Life to its children, a Dark Chaplain of the Shu’Halo.

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He moved swiftly and quietly into the small tent they had taken as their own the past few days. It was high upon Spirit Rise, above the commotion of the busy auction house and vendors that had found a new life in Thunder Bluff. He finally began to think of the Bluff as home, he had become used to the open plains as a child. But now, living among the fine Shu’Halo on the high mesas, he knew where he belonged.

Black dragonscales glinted in the moonlight that filtered through the opening of the tent. Runes of the Ahnk and Skull seemed to shift with a life of their own. Redhoof carefully packed a few things he needed and noticed that she had not yet returned this evening. He scribbled a short love note to her and left it on the pillow, smiling at the thought of her beauty and the love they shared. He was still unsure how long they would be together, but he knew that his love for her would never falter. It was the one constant in a life that had shifted and twisted in so many ways. He did indeed love her with all his soul.

Pulling his head deep into the hood of his cloak he walked out into the crisp night air and headed for the flight master, seeking to protect that which he loved.