Ilvakihj Tallanthoralis the Champion of the Light, Captain of the Brigade

Scribbling something in what is clearly a stricken state of panic is a venerable
figure of highborn elvish descent, all too easily denoted by his elongated ears and
refined features. Garbed in a seemingly ancient suit of battlemail, he appears
to be poised over a mahogany desk, dipping a quill with swift strokes into a small
vial of black ink. He works as quickly as he can on what can only be an important
missive. Just as he finishes dusting the contents of the wet ink and pressing
his signet ring into the glob of molten red wax, a loud bang clatters from
beyond the wooden threshold, forcing the elderly figure's attention to sway to
it momentairly. His thoughts begin to race in the back of his mind, a single
notion resonating most clearly, as the door is kicked open, his arm flares
forward and with the muttering of a few arcane words, he disappears, gone within
the blink of an eye, his missive with him, the contents of his work still littering
the desk.

Tumbling through the door with the grace of a trained acrobat, a sleek and lithe
figure of a black-garbed humanoid settles to its feet after tucking and rolling
through the barirer which was forced open, daggers still drawn in both hands.
'Shit...' it mutters to itself, glaring angrily at its surroundings before
throwing down a globe which explodes into grey smoke, disappearing along with
it.

Appearing in a dense thicket of pine trees, the elderly figure still appears
in a dire panic, his features are taut and twisted, sweat literally stings as
it drips into his eyes, he takes only a moment to decipher his surroundings,
Moving as swift as he can at a furious pace, stopping and breaking to gather
his breath before pressing on, his movements come to an abrupt halt as the
last thing he ever sees is the wicked edge of a magnificant steel axe which
literally swoops as a hand perfectely times where the elderly elf steps foot
and cleaves him in two.

Howling with a dark and gutteral roar, the steel axe clutched in the hand of
the giant swoons as tendrils of visible energy literally rise from the corpse
and into what looks like a twisted maw which temporarily appears at the flat
of the axe's steel head. 'Yuh... so dis what dat little Juhkta be after eh...
thinkin' she goin' take mah share of the bounty... disciples of Beroxxus or
nah... I ain' no little shit... what do I need'm for... I get this bounty
myself...' the dim giant appears to speak to both himself and his axe, a
deep and booming laughter echoing as he finishes examining the contents of
the missive, storming under thunderous footfalls in the direction the
elderly figure was headed.

Pushing and plodding and hewing what small trees might linger in his path,
a swathing mass of broken vegetation is left in the wake of the shambling
giant as he moves for a few hours to arrive before what looks like a small
glade, nestled at the foot of a small series of hills within the dense
woodlands. It takes him only a moment to uncover a hidden entry of thick
evergreen as he blasts the region with a series of exploding fireballs,
licking the vicinity in hellish orange-red light until nothing but
scorched rock and dead vegetation remains.

Booming a cacophoneous fit of laughter, the giant moves towards the opening
with a firm and pois

Kneeling ferverently as he approaches bloodied and grim from another victorious
campaign, the composed and stalwart form of a highborn elf remains poised before
an altar of the purest of whites, uttering something under his breath as his eyes
drift closed. Slender in build, with a cascade of platinum locks, the highborn elf
carries the same visage most of his race do, one of a stern and grim countenance.

Before long, a sleek and lithe panther appears to approach the poised figure as he
remains at a kneel, sniffing at his presence, the highborn appears unstartled in
the presence of the creature, all the while, his eyes remain closed. Within a blink
of an eye, a hollow white light flashes as a lightning bolt might silhouette amid
a dimly-illuminated chamber, the image of the ebony greatcat quickly taking the
form of a striking elvish maiden, clad head to toe in battle array.

'What is it you have come here for?' the maiden speaks in a soft and lilting tone,
her inquisitive gaze studying the highborn soldier intently. He does not answer at
first, a pensive air is about him, within but a moment, he speaks up, 'I have come
to see you as my guide in the many battles to come... to be at my side, to be the
soothing voice of purity which will keep the shadow at bay... to be the voice of
reason as I am forced to sin again and again...'

She only smiles at him before leveling her spear to point at him, vanishing in the
same blaze of light she appeared with before echoing in the depths of his mind, 'I
am with you, young highborn... and I will see that we both walk through the fires
of Thera together.'

As the flashing light subsides and the voice fades, the highborn soldier grips at
the hilt of a dagger at his waist, bowing once more before he moves from the moss-
lined cavern.

Surging with speed past a humanoid figure which literally explodes into a vapour
of black gaseous dust is the figure of a highborn elf if ever there was one, his
gleaming locks of platinum hair further accenuated by the brilliant set of glowing
knives he clutches in hand. Descending down a rough stairwell carved directly into
the cavern, the flickering image of a massive, wild-maned lion bounds after him
with each stride. Moving without a single hesitation, the highborn elf leaps at
the form of a grotesque-looking minotaur, clad in assorted battlemail, a series
of blows are quickly exchanged before the portal lingering behind him ripples and
shakes, a series of dark, translucent and ghostly images pushing through it.

Chaos erupts all around the vicinity, blood flying as despite being consistently
engaged by apparation after apparation, the highborn elf glides and weaves past
them, the lion behind him ripping apart shadowy entity after another to keep
them from the warriors backside. The images to continue to stir for but a moment
longer, all of the nightmarish creatures vaporizing in a blinding halo of light
as the threshold which allowed them entry is obliterated and sent to ruin on the
ground. Wiping some blood from his sweat-soaked features, the highborn elf turns
to peer to the flickering image of the lion which now bends and twists to reform
as a grown man, they meet eyes with one another after sparing a glance to the
twisted form of the minotaur, satisfied with there work they turn to peer at
the very deepest bowel of the cavern, uttering a warcry into the air, they both
disappear into it, a series of steel clashing on steel echoing as they do so.