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[Korin d'Rue]

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Korin stood in front of the mirror, his wounds had almost healed only a few faint bruises still remained. It was not the pyhsical pain that still troubled him.

Korin walked over to his desk and set down behind it, His weapons lay spread out on the desk. Korin poured himself a glass of whiskey taking a drink before starting to work on his weapons. Each one was sharpened, wiped down and returned to its case or stood against the desk. Korin knew in his mind that it wasnt his weapons that had failed him in battle. It had been his own judgement that had failed him.

Korin drained the last of the amber liquid out of his glass and refilled it. He drained the second glass and poured a third. Korin stood up and moved back infront of the mirror staring at himself in the mirror "You knew better than to give chase." pointing his finger at the face in the mirror glass still in his hand. "You knew it was a trap." He drained the glass once more, "And yet you still charged off after him." Korin studied the face in the mirror hoping for an answer from it.

Then it hit Korin He would be reminded every day for the rest of his life, He would make sure of it.


Korin grabbed his shirt and started up the steps to the main floor. He thought to himself as he pulled on his shirt while taking the stairs. The new blacksmith in the valley should be able to make it for me. And thus is where he headed too.

[Ryloth Nazduin]

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The cool night wind of Umbra whisked quietly along Charnel Hill, where Ryloth stood alone. His height and body figure was the same as always, but his appearance had changed drastically. The skin incasing his body was no longer pale white, it was now rotted and decayed. The scars covering his torso and cheeks slowly peeled away and spots of skull had begun appearing on his face.

The Gorgorath'Quessir, Nazduin elf felt an ease and a sense of "peace" that he had not felt in quite sometime. Upon being reborn and set on the path of becoming a Death Knight, Ryloth was able to let go. The chains that gripped the elf, causing him to be tainted, corrupted, savage and turbulent had released themselves. The welcoming arms of the other undead and members of the Ebon Skull had completely overwhelmed Ryloth. No longer was he uncontrollable and outcaste.

He began to recall the battle that had occurred a few evenings previous.

A few members of the Ebon Skull had been occupying themselves around the area of Charnel Hill. A calm screech could be heard in the distance, Ryloth along with barely a handful of others, made their way to the Mausoleum of Enmity. The Nazduin elf sat on his magical steed and approached the building. The sight before him was shocking. Soldiers on soldiers stood gathered, facing the Death Knight D'thal.

Stonegate and their allies had massed an enormous number of soldiers to march to Charnel Hill. Ryloth spotted a Rune Beetle and a Nightmare growing restless. He smirked to himself and took his spot beside the Death Knight. Words were exchanged, each side carried on about how they felt about eachother.

Ryloth had felt D'thals energy rising, he could tell he prepared himself to attack. The Ebon Skull members were massively out numbered, by ninjas, warriors and beasts. The Nazduin knew he had the one chance to catch the group off guard, and without another thought, he hurled a conflag potion at the group. Chaos broke out and the swarm of soldiers washed over the Ebon Skull. Ryloth was fast, he retreated momentarily before charging into the group. He spotted his target, a proud young warrior.

Ryloth rode towards the warrior and swung his warfork viciously, Korin returned attacked. The two engaged in battle and found themselves away from the chaos. Without another thought, Ryloth pressed against the young warrior with force. His blade worked quickly, with his free hand he dropped another conflag potion, driving the warrior to retreat. Before Korin could fully recover himself, the Nazduin had begun firing his arrows with precision. The warrior fell to the ground, quickly surrounded by several warriors.

Ryloth knew full well the other members had been defeated, so he pressed his attack the best he could. It was not along until he had several warriors and ninjas on his tail. He quickly retreated to the Eastern bridge of Umbra, hoping to pull them away from Charnel Hill to protect any other members. He stood his ground but eventually fell to the onslaught and waves of warriors.

He knew that after that evening, the warrior he had baited away would come for his revenge. Whether or not it was with waves and waves of warriors at his side, or by himself, Ryloth knew the warrior would rise from magic and learn his mistakes. He could only hope the nameless, foolish warrior, would return.

[Korin d'Rue]

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Jumping up from his bed Korin slashed out in front of him with the runeblade he keep hidden in his pillow of snow. Nothing, the blade struck nothing.

Taking a few minutes to regain his composure, Korin lay back down and slipped the blade back into the snow. It was the third night he had been awakened. The image of his dream still fresh in his mind. Korin closed his eyes but the image was still there. The white skull grinning at him. The red orbs burning in the empty eye sockets. The hand out stretched beckoning him. The way the dead skin and meat hung and dangled from that hand as the index finger curled back and forth. The voice a raspy, almost growl. "Come little boy come." Korin openned his eyes he decided to give up on sleep for the night and threw on a pair of pants and walked down stairs to his office.

Taking up quill and ink he began to doodle on a piece of parchment

Only the strong, surive
Strong of body
Strong of heart
strong of mind

Korin circled the last one several times.

[Korin d'Rue]

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Korin stood in front of the mirror, his shirt was thrown across the desk. He carefully pulled the bandage away from his chest. Looking in the Mirror he gently ran his fingers across the anger red wound.
She had done good work on the lettering and the wound was deep. There was still a hint of the burnt flesh smell to it. Korin looked in the mirror once more and made a fist. Bringing the fist up to his chest he pounded on the wound as if giving a salute.
Pain radiated through his body. Doubling over he thought Yes that will do just fine