Around two days have passed now from the moment the brave trio, now duo, set foot in the harsh untamed world of Draenor. No doubt mentally and physically exhausted after all horrors witnessed and the severe tear on both their hearts over their missing man. Recently a passing Kaldorei had notified the two they were requested back at HQ. On the upside, Wrathion’s digs are just what anyone’d have expected of a Prince. Luxurious four poster beds with canopies. Luxurious couches, long dining tables. Silverware every which direction. Food, wine, even candy at their very beck and call, as the Talons passing their quarters would remind them of so oft. For a unit serving a being of the Black Dragonflight. These men, these women, they seem unnaturally attuned to the level of grief both Nila and Annie experience. Whether they feel the same loss they do, or are simply all very well trained in the concept of human emotion, as well as other races is unknown. Tyler never did speak of his ranking in Wrathion’s troop, only that he was a tight asset to Wrathion’s ongoings. Peculiarly enough however, the Prince so is nowhere to be seen. They were informed without hesitation that the man of the house was off on business, as most’d be given a foreign world to explore. But mid-afternoon on this day a bright young man’s voice can be heard dealing out orders every which location. Tanaan. Shadowmoon Valley. Gorgrond. Talador. Nagrand. The Spires. These locations’d be unfamiliar of course at this stage. But it’s not hard to tell his claws are deeper into the soil than the Alliance or the Horde. Going from what Tyler’s mentioned, deeper than the native culture too.
[22/11/2014 18:27:26] Tyler: At last, he stands in the doorway before the two females. This being the first time having met Tyler’s employer, who strikingly enough looked younger than Tyler himself. He lacked the large hoops upon his ears and his head-dress that he seemed to be rumoured to don most occasions. Instead he had a sloppy bedhead of ragged black locks, eyes as blood red as Annabelle’s. Funnily enough he’s a boyish mix of the two girls, how odd. Regardless he flashes a gleaming smile at the two, planting both palms against one another as he steps into the quarters, bowing politely.

“Grim times. Mmh?”
[22/11/2014 18:31:47] Waltz: Nila had stood there in something of a trance once more, completely ignoring the comforts and delights of the abode for now and perhaps for good. She donned the very armored garb she had upon arrival on this ill-fated journey, although naturally the ominous mask simply hung from her waist. The two mismatched eyes made their way towards the Prince. "-.. Grim, indeed." Was her only response, that and a meager smile.
[22/11/2014 18:33:22] Lulubell: Annie had already voiced her dislike and suspicion for the young prince and she did not easily change her mind, but at the moment she was too apathetic to care. She stares at the boy for a long moment before folding her arms and looking elsewhere. While she says nothing it's clear in her body language she'd rather be anywhere than in his presence.
[22/11/2014 18:35:01] Tyler: Wrathion's smile falters upon spying Annabelle. He bows his head, exerting an awkward cough: "Look. I need to say that this was not my choice. Tyler and Muraai were inseperable. This was his operation and he put himself in that position. I advised against it and I pleaded him to think it through. He was stubborn, as you always know."
[22/11/2014 18:36:39 | Edited 18:38:16] Tyler: "You have all reason to spite me, given the sole reason we stand here is on my shoulders. But this, you must believe, is for a greater good. He believed that. I believe that. Ask anyone here, we all believe that. I am sorry. He was more than just an asset to me too." He sighs aloud. His stare again lingering on Annabelle.
[22/11/2014 18:37:31] Waltz: Nila remains quiet for now, observing the exchange.
[22/11/2014 18:39:23] Lulubell: "Greater good? You meddlers are all the same. The only notion of greater good you have are the delusions you forge within your own minds. You may be a dragon, boy, but I have lived for 500 years. I have seen your kind come and go; and where you succeed you bring little but misery. Where you fail, you bring -only- misery. If you are as clever as you think you are, I suppose we shall see in the near future." Annabelle hisses. That's the most she's said for two days now.
[22/11/2014 18:42:28] Tyler: "I suppose it all again falls to belief, doesn't it. The very word that instigates most conflict. But you're right, we will see." He offers a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. "We have received word that the orcs that took your man's life are on patrol. Seemingly the Gronn they fed his remains to has ran astray into one of the gaps within the canyon. Cross requested that you join him. To see if an opportunity arises that you can.. Well. Inflict what they have upon you, upon them. I realize Selkhaat here is probably beyond the notion. But we both know no flame burns stronger than revenge."
[22/11/2014 18:45:16] Waltz: "Hope." Nila speaks up. "Hope burns stronger, if I may disagree." Her eyes snap over to the Prince, although her head does bow down in reverence. As full of grief or anger or both as she might have been, the virtues were beaten to her very bones. Such as respect. "I will join this nevertheless, if only to aid this world in some way."
[22/11/2014 18:46:49] Tyler: "I can see why he chose you. Why he chose both of you, there was no excessive self indulgence. The two of you are so strikingly opposed, with him as the middle-man it makes the perfect relationship full circle. It's endearing. Again, however. Such falls to belief. The warring word." He peers at Annabelle expectantly.
[22/11/2014 18:49:05] Lulubell: "The Gronn is a mindless beast. The orcs however? I know exactly what to do to them in order to destroy their very spirits. And I needn't even kill them. All I need is for them to be restrained."
[22/11/2014 18:52:06] Tyler: "..I will take that as a yes. I must ask you restrain yourselves from charging forth until Cross asks. Gorgrond is still home to armies of orc-kin, ladies. You're both a force to be reckonwed with but sheer numbers will have you won over within moments if you aren't subtle. I will send for him now. And Annabelle, when this begins to settle, you have ever resource at my disposal to find Gul'dan. I promise you this, I don't intend to ever.. Have you like me. I know neither of you truly will. But Tyler.. He was. He wasn't like Left or Right." He looks genuinely.. Upset. His eyebrows are flared and slant. "Just, I want to do what is right for you." He hastily takes his exit, shaking his head as he leaves.
[22/11/2014 18:53:15] Tyler: A few moments later, familiar plated boots thud up the hallway. Cross nods with a grunt in the doorway. Giving the two a few moments to gather their things before setting off.
[22/11/2014 18:54:22] Waltz: The priestess quirks up an eyebrow and clasps hands together behind her back but remains quiet throughout this next bit. Upon being captured she never recovered her staff, so the woman sets out without a weapon but otherwise prepared already. She was still a notable opponent even without the long reach.
[22/11/2014 18:56:01] Lulubell: Ann as ever wears her enchanted garbs and carries her staff. How she reclaimed it is a mystery. She'd simply follow the orc without sparing the prince a second glance.
[22/11/2014 18:56:32] Tyler: He’d remain silent until spoken to, clearly hurt over Annie’s words the days before, in no mood to coax any more racial slur out of the spiteful witch. It’d be a simple half hour trudge over the ugly orange cracked stone lands of Gorgrond, apart from taking a moment to let a small patrol of orcs pass, they’d face no immediate dangers. They fall short at a ridge, overlooking a small canyon, to the right is a ramped pathway leading back up to their level, to the left is a wide open cave. It’s difficult to see from here but something large is slumped in its confines. Cross fishes into his pack and draws forth a small hammer and some nails, seemingly the dab hand in survival he manages to fix a small rope ladder onto the ridge, hurling it over the edge. He hastily descends without giving the two a thought, probably trying to dodge the prospect of looking up either of their skirts like a bullet to the head. Conveniently, at the bottom a tall decaying bush hides the trio should the two descend, giving them a clear view of the canyon’s path, as well as a look into the cavern.
[22/11/2014 18:59:22] Waltz: Sometimes a few might have made a joke of Nila being rather clumsy, something usually only caused by her being occupied by something else. In truth the woman was a rather proficient dancer, her agility and control over her own body well-trained through that already. She found no difficulty descending the ropes, soon enough hunched beside the orc. "-.. What's the plan then?" She inquired quietly, just in case.
[22/11/2014 19:01:40] Lulubell: Needless to say a woman as fit as Ann had no trouble climing. And there was no danger in looking up her robe it'd turn out. Even if the leather pants she wears were tight-fitted enough to highlight all the shapely forms of her backside. There is also a set of elementium greaves. She descands down the ladder by sliding down, the mutated carapace on her hands stopping any rope burns after all.
[22/11/2014 19:03:49] Tyler: Cross peers at Nila for a moment, running a calloused hand along his jawbone. "For the moment, we simply observe. We don't know what condition the Gronn is in. And we're unsure what numbers they're going to have. He's just.. Riiight~ there. Stay down."
[22/11/2014 19:04:22] Waltz: Nila stays down, simple as.
[22/11/2014 19:04:23] Tyler: His chubby red digit points to the gaping cavern. Inside of which a hulking Gronn is slumped within. Slathered in warpaint and a small loin-cloth. The giant brute rests against the stone wall. It begins to groan aloud, the deep guttural rumble warbling throughout the cavern, it is not an attractive noise. As Wrathion forementioned, the orcs from the holding camp march down the valley in a group of eight. Donning their traditional plate uniform. Most have swords, some have rifles. They look like they mean business. Cross gestures to the girls to keep as low as possible, still peeping through the gaps in the dried up vegetation. Again the Gronn wails helplessly, clawing at its fat gut, scraping flesh away from the surface. Whatever is going on here the beast is in severe pain.
[22/11/2014 19:05:26] Tyler: Cross winces as beads of salty sweat sting at his eyes. He's as nervous as any reasonable man would be now with danger so close.
[22/11/2014 19:06:57] Waltz: The priestess remains low enough to avoid being seen, and surprisingly the occasionally present holy flames on her garments wither and die out also. She observes in patient silence, looking neither eager for revenge or to flee the scene.
[22/11/2014 19:07:53] Lulubell: "Eight of them. Now what?"
[22/11/2014 19:08:37] Tyler: "The Gronn is upset, let's not charge out when it could do our job for us." He flaps his hand around in gesture to remain still.
[22/11/2014 19:08:57] Lulubell: "The two who killed Tyler, I want them alive."
[22/11/2014 19:09:06] Tyler: The troops approach now, swords and rifles at the ready should the Gronn act out of place. Some distant yells of crude orcish can be heard, whilst unintelligible it’s clear they’re attempting to suss out the issue with the Gronn. The monster’s limbs begin to flail and batter the surface of the cavern, stalactite smashes against the stone floor as it whizzes from the ceiling. Unfortunately there are no casualties to the hazard other than the Gronn, who receives a few chunks of stone in the skull. Still alive and thrashing wildly. The Orcs now begin to back up, upon the mouth of the cavern. The view of the creature is now half-blocked, but this doesn’t last long.
[22/11/2014 19:09:44] Waltz: "What's wrong with it-..?"
[22/11/2014 19:10:05] Tyler: "I don't know but it's going to take the cave down with it if it doesn't stop."
[22/11/2014 19:11:02] Tyler: In what seems the blink of an eye, the Gronn’s final cry of unimaginable horror is cut short, and something bursts from its abdomen. A blur of crimson and putrid yellow. A fresh waft of entrails filling the humid air. Like a wildcat the blur is upon the middle-most orc, skidding the troop upon his back halfway up the canyon. Finally, it comes to a stop. Standing atop the orc is a figure slathered in bodily fluids. Literally the raw color of crimson, barring a few portions of fatty flesh and internal organs still clicking in gooey portions to it’s skin. It wears only a gauntlet, leggings, plated boots and a helm, horned with nails jutting out from the jawline. The creature peers down at the orc, cocking its head. Hefty boot upon its throat. The visor dribbling putrid liquids more than likely accumulated being left to fester in the gut of a Gronn. Which suddenly increases tenfold, as whatever it is vomits upon the orc’s features. Blood, vomit, saliva, mucus, a few scraps of pink and yellow. The most obscene and obscure mix of gore and unimaginable atrocities that could erupt from a being’s maw. The orc squeals like a stuck pig as the mix splashes down upon his features, flailing the sword helplessly, incapable of managing a strike as the second boot falls upon his fore-arm.
[22/11/2014 19:12:33] Tyler: "De-mon? I don- Girls, stay down." He gestures again.
[22/11/2014 19:13:13] Waltz: "What the-..?!" Nila gasps out, an almost morbid curiosity causing her to raise her head the slightest to see better. "There was someone-... something in its stomach?"
[22/11/2014 19:14:04] Lulubell: "That is not a demon. I'd know if it was."
[22/11/2014 19:14:14] Tyler: As the crimson begins to drip from the Gronn-born figure, patches of skin appear. Given their front row ticket, it’s not difficult to find themselves familiar with what this monstrosity is. They’ve spent plenty of time with the body of this specimen. They’ve ran their tongues and fingertips among each crack, each curve, each turn of his carved musculature. There’s no denying this is Tyler standing atop the pinned orc. But something is wrong. The gauntlet usually affixed to his right palm is nigh triple in size. The spiked plate digits have transcended to humongous hooked claws. This is not born of his affliction, the entire gauntlet emits a faint black mist. He notices this himself, raising the gauntlet to study it beyond the visor which still flows crimson like a small river. He gives it a twirl, flexing the demonic claws, trailing his head up his arm, following the blotched black skin halting at his shoulderblade. Then again his stare falls upon the pinned orc.
[22/11/2014 19:15:43] Waltz: "T-.. Ty-.. We must go down there!" Nila speaks out, already looking for a way downwards with her gaze.
[22/11/2014 19:15:49] Tyler: "S-stay, we don't know." Cross looks pre-emptive to halt either of the girls that'd threaten to blow their cover. Clearly as wary of the demon as of the Gronn.
[22/11/2014 19:16:27 | Edited 19:16:58] Tyler: This moment signifies Tyler’s steady downfall in his chronicle to begin in Draenor. Whatever leniency, reasonable thought, whatever kindness lingered within his heart for these native kind in that moment disintegrated.

A bare hand came down to grapple the orc’s throat. And thus he was raised to the remainder of his troop as the claws slammed into his skull, digging deep into the skin around the forehead, in one swoop the orc was scalped. The bloodied white crown of his skull now exposed. Like an egg it was burst into fragments under the claws brutal clobber and thus the thin membrane coating the brain was flicked away, like a small gnat. The bare hand stuffed itself into the bone bowl, tearing free the brain, the sternum jiggling over his wrist as he weighed it in his palm. The lifeless corpse slumping to the dirt. His digits sunk into the very being of the life he took. Memories, aspirations, love, hate. His digits tore it all asunder. Ceasing existence under naught more than his raw strength. The pink mush was discarded as if nothing to the dirt.
[22/11/2014 19:17:34] Tyler:
He began his forward march upon the stragglers. (https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B5lbWUyI59dWMXQtMVVYWkNiRHc/view?usp=sharing)
[22/11/2014 19:18:33] Tyler: The first charged shoulder first into his torso, he was tall but the orcs were far larger, hulking brainless meatheads waving weapons high. The claw swiped him several feet through the air to smash head first into the far side of the canyon. Choking on his saliva and twitching helplessly, his neck was broken. Another life discarded.
[22/11/2014 19:18:54] Tyler: The next drove a blade through his abdomen, jutting out his lower back. Tyler trudged toward the hilt of the blade, spewing more gore into the next victim’s features as the claw latched onto his skull, applying slow but steady pressure, popping the entire head like a zit. The remains slumped to the ground, drawing the sword out of Tyler’s gut with it.
[22/11/2014 19:19:13] Tyler: Again he trudged forward to the next, an orc bringing a heavy Warhammer down upon his skull was cut short. The afflicted limb rose to halt the weapon mid-way, the steel curling around the circumference of Tyler’s arm as the orc did his job for him, the sudden force upon his arms breaking both upward, the bones within his fore-arms jutting out just before the elbows. The orc circled off to the side, screaming in sheer agony as his misshapen arms bled freely, the Warhammer resting curled in the dirt.
[22/11/2014 19:19:48] Tyler: Cross began to wretch. Sitting down and turning away from the unfolding chaos. The orc was sick to his stomach.
[22/11/2014 19:20:31] Waltz: Nila stares at this show in dreadful silence, although she was aware of the way Tyler fought way before this incident already. Blood and gore did not phase her either. It looked like she was far more worried for the man than anyone else down there. "-.. We cannot just wait up here!"
[22/11/2014 19:21:03] Tyler: Tyler's otherwordly moans began to echo from the visor. Reverberating through the canyon. He had suffered. Not as these orcs are suffering. He was being far too methodical. He almost seemed to take pleasure in it.
[22/11/2014 19:21:18] Tyler: Cross otherwise remained silent, staring at his boots. He couldn't handle it.
[22/11/2014 19:21:38] Tyler: The next began to shuffle backward from the approaching demon, to no avail it seems. The arm thrust forth and the clawed digits burst into dozens of tiny chips of plate, a shadowy chain at Tyler’s wrist as it sought the orc out like a homing missile, grappling its leg and slowly drawing it backward toward him. He sauntered over to the orc playfully as the claws began to re-assemble, hauling the orc upside down afore him, much akin to any school bully shaking down a smaller child for lunch money. He gripped the second leg with his empty hand and tore the orc asunder, discarding one half and hurling the other towards the next, pinning him down under the plate that still clings to the diced body.
[22/11/2014 19:22:58] Tyler: Slurred heaves and grunts emitted from his frame. Haunting laughs barked at those who became naught more than mush under his touch.
[22/11/2014 19:23:05] Tyler: The pinned orc was spared no opportunity to run. He was dragged from under his mutilated associate and the demonic gauntlet was drove with great force into his abdomen. For some moments this orc writhed in quiet agony. Tyler began to steadily rise him up, keeping him pierced on the end of his demonic limb, the crimson dark beyond the visor staring oh-so-intently, relishing every moment. The orc begin to spontaneously convulse and shake violently, before bursting apart at the seams, the same plated shards before burst the corpse in hundreds of different directions, piking the poor fool into dozens of tiny bite-size chunks. Again the claw detracted to Tyler’s wrist, the remainder splattering onto the dirt below. Chunks of plate and oozing gore now crusting Tyler’s sabatons.
[22/11/2014 19:24:22] Tyler: The pace was only increasing. This manifestation of raw power had seen this go down time after time in his mind. There was no faltering. No drawbacks. As if he'd fantasized. They stood no chance.
[22/11/2014 19:25:16 | Edited 19:25:31] Lulubell: Ann spares Nila and Cross a look. She then shakes her head and proceeds to approach Tyler. Calling to him; "Tyler!"
[22/11/2014 19:26:03] Waltz: Nila glances at Annabelle and raises up to follow her, calling out to him also. "Tyler-..! It's us!" Although obviously relieved, she appears equally wary. Something was very off here.
[22/11/2014 19:27:08] Tyler: He seemed dormant despite his actions. His helm didn't offer a single turn away from his opponents. He was fixated. His view only red. There was no stopping him.
[22/11/2014 19:27:18] Tyler: Next on the list was a less fearful swordsman, who made a mad dash, screaming aloud, saliva frothing at his jaws. Clearly a berserker or the like. He twirls to swing his claymore with all of his might, only to meet Tyler’s boot collide with his wrist, reversing the momentum and effectively destroying the joint. Without any choice, the orc’s grip falters and he stumbles onto his back. Tyler’s boot raises and comes down upon his features, trampling his nose flat and concussing the grounded orc. He spares him no fun, simply booting the jagged tip of the sabaton into his throat, tearing his jugular wide. He dies within seconds.
[22/11/2014 19:28:27] Tyler: The two remaining troops are riflemen. One of which is trembling, trying to fire at the approaching murderer, his shaking limbs betray him however, he only manages a few stray shots into Tyler’s side, which seemingly has no effect on his approach. The claws take the rifle from him, twirling it to bring the butt down upon his skull. He falls to his back, just like the others. All he can do is raise his hands and pray for mercy. Which he fails to receive. Instead the barrel of the rifle is brought down with force upon his features, the jagged chamber jabbed straight into the eyesocket, stirring the globe like runny eggs, crimson and white seeping out around the metal barrel. Whilst Tyler’s bloodied visor stares off at the last man standing, the claws tug the trigger, the rifle blasting the skull asunder. Another dead orc. He stabs the barrel down again, lodging it upright from the corpse in the dirt.
[22/11/2014 19:29:42] Lulubell: "-Tyler-!" Ann calls out again. She would not stop anywhere away from him. Instead she'd walk right up to him in an attempt to grab his warm firmly.
[22/11/2014 19:30:55] Waltz: Nila follows still, although slightly more tentatively. She knew of various things that could cause a man to lose all his senses, and things like berserk or bloodlust were only the most common of those. She kept a spell ready from the looks and feels of it, one to shield Annabelle should Tyler even try a strike in his confusion.
[22/11/2014 19:32:40] Tyler: The arm'd whip from her digits, only to roar backward, his wide grasp coming for her throat. Should he make contact he'd haul her instantly from her toes, squeezing the air from her throat as his head slowly cocks. The helm only spews more fluid, whatever lays beyond is not visible. The gauntlet in the meantime whips back into his wrist, seeming as tame and (relatively less) harmful as before.
[22/11/2014 19:34:26] Waltz: Nila would have hopefully been ready enough to erect an illuminated but translucent wall, or a shield of Light between the two lovers of her own. Even with such a brief preparation it should be enough to withstand a strike or two, enough to buy Annabelle time to retreat if need be.
[22/11/2014 19:34:33] Waltz: "Ann!"
[22/11/2014 19:35:13] Lulubell: Ann steps away, aided by the barrier. She scowls at Tyler and fixes him with a hard stare.
[22/11/2014 19:36:11] Tyler: An amused snort'd burst from the visor. The gauntlet slowly snaking off on it's own to the last man standing. The claws'd sink into his skull and send him hurling toward the barrier of light with brute force. Should it still remain, the orc's skull splatter like a watermelon, otherwise it'd zip right on throught toward Annabelle.
[22/11/2014 19:36:59] Waltz: The barrier stands steady and strong, unbreached. If there was anything Nila could do, it was to weave Light to do her bidding.
[22/11/2014 19:38:12] Lulubell: "Are you actually trying to attack me?" She asks, calmly. Though it is evident her patience is rapidly draining away.
[22/11/2014 19:40:00] Tyler: It's clear he no longer has the slightest idea what he's doing. Rather suddenly his skull whips back as he thrusts his skull against the barrier. Once. Twice. With more force each time. His stance growing more and more zig-zagged and out of tune. The demonic claws twist and turn angrily in their own right, hanging heavily at his side, running screeching hooks up the plate coating his knee-caps.
[22/11/2014 19:40:38] Waltz: "Knock him out, Ann! Th-.. I don't know what sort of a foul presence has possessed him, but Tyler's not himself!"
[22/11/2014 19:42:27] Tyler: "The gauntlet balls into a hefty fist of warped energy. The knuckles smash against the barrier. His muscular torso weaves and twists as he throws all of his might against the bright surface." He remains eerily silent otherwise. His obscene angered fixation on Annabelle unexplainable but may prove deadly if nothing is done fast.
[22/11/2014 19:45:36] Lulubell: Ann sighs and shakes her head. She then wafts her right hand towards Tyler, and out of nowhere Helxia would appear. Ever the mistress of stealth. She'd aim to drive a poisoned dagger into Tyler's back and then vanish against just as swiftly and abruptly as she had appeared. The dagger did not went far in, but it was coated with a powerful sedative toxin. Hopefully enough to knock the man clean out.
[22/11/2014 19:48:18] Tyler: The male seems to pay absoloutely no heed. He again simply smashes the barrier. The gauntlet colliding with the light with all power to knock a tram backward. The hooks swipe and slash. On a savage mission to break through toward Annabelle. Of course he does eventually desist. The mortal shell begins to tire and he drapes to his knees. An audible girdle as more fluid spews from his visor. With that he faceplants into the dirt.
[22/11/2014 19:48:34] Tyler: The canyon was bathed in blood. Bathed in entrails. Bathed in fragments of plate and bone. Patches of skin littering the cracked terrain.