Setting of the Dark Sun, Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter One: Sunlancer, Bloodmyst, and Duskwhisper: The Truth Will Out!


The line of Legion soldiers stood stoutly at the foot of the steps. At the height of the stone stairs stood an ebon haired woman. Her chest protruded more than most elves, and a frown scorned her lean face.

“Pathetic! Simply pathetic! You call yourselves soldiers!? An embarrassment, that’s what you all are! Get out of my sight!” Her voice wavered angrily.

The line of armoured men and women dispersed, one of the figures being a black and crimson armour clad knight. He stormed off to the fountain at Farstrider’s Square, peering angrily at himself in the water’s reflection.

His mind wandered aimlessly, ‘This is for the good of Quel’Thalas… but I grow ever so weary of being spoken to as if I were a mere commoner… When I take my place as a General, I will show that Margravine what a true noble is…’

However, his bitter musings are interrupted by a young elvish woman at his side, her smile furthering her holy visage. He gave her a respectful salute “General Sunlancer. Is there something you require?”

She shook her head, “No no, Captain. You seemed a tad peeved, I decided I’d come see what was wrong.”

He chuckled, then spoke calmly, years of being forced into noble courts teaching him how to control every aspect of his person, “I am no such thing, General, merely pondering our current situation…”

The woman’s smile is replaced by a rather serious look: “Captain Bloodmyst, would you come with me, please?”

Vynlarion nods slowly, “Very well, General.”

The two walk from the fountain to the CO room, their plated greaves clunking lightly on the brightly coloured cobblestone.

The two paced up the steps quickly, the Margravine absent from the room. A scrying orb sat in the corner of the room, flanked by a desk. Liratrix Sunlancer set her gaze on Vynlarion, “I worry what you worry, Vynlarion. I know something is wrong in the Dark Sun Legion… The Margravine has been acting strangely, as of late…”

Vynlarion remains silent, shocked that Liratrix could be so upfront about things! “… Yes… you are correct, I share your concerns…”

Liratrix smiles sadly, “And so does the High Commander. Ever since we went on that mission to get those dragon eggs, she’s seemed even more on edge…”

Vynlarion nods, “Agreed. Mayhap we should include my… brother… in these discussions? He is a master of mental manipulation.”

Liratrix quirks a white-blonde brow “Is he not still somewhat mad from that episode with the Ishuran Legacy?”

Vynlarion scoffs: “What? That nonsense? Pah! He was no madman.”

Liratrix leans on the desk: “Really? Go on.”

The human laid weakly on the elvish bed, she groaned sadly in her sleep, sickly sweat marring her forehead.

Vynlarion watched on impassively, the Margravine, Malistra Ashborne to his right, and his twin brother, Vesago Duskwhisper to his left.

“See what you can find, Vesago.” Malistra spoke pointedly.

Vesago nodded from under his cowl, and stepped forward, robes billowing in a wind only he could feel.

Shadow magic began to coalesce around his figure, before he placed a gloved hand on the human’s forehead.

“Her name, what is it, Duskwhisper.” She demanded angrily.

Vynlarion looked over impassively at the Elven warlock at his side, her eyes hungrily gazing over the human’s rather exposed body.

“It is… difficult…” Vesago said quietly, “her mind is quite protected.”

Malistra glared angrily, “I didn’t ask for excuses, I ask for her name! And do not harm her, in the process!” She barked.

Vynlarion looked over sharply, “My lady, not harm her? She is a Human, and of the Alliance! She has threatened your life. Why should we grant her sympathy?”

Malistra sneered at him: “I don’t answer to you, Bloodmyst.”

The Blood Knight fell silent, watching as Vesago probed the woman’s mind.

“Her name is… Kairasa…” Vesago spoke wearily.

Malistra seemed unimpressed, “What else?”

Vesago’s hand tensed on her forehead as he dug deeper into her mind.

After some time, Malistra huffed with boredom. “Bloodmyst, if he does not cease this nonsense in the next minute, end it for him.”

Vynlarion nodded slowly, folding his arms before him.

After a few minutes’ time, Vesago remained in the same position, with no indication that he was ceasing his actions. Malistra looks over at Vynlarion, and nods sharply: “Do it.”

“Yes, my lady.” He responds flatly, and steps forward, drawing his broadsword from his back.

Hefting the large blade into the air, the broadside at the ready, he swung it for the back of Vesago’s hooded head. With an audible ‘thwack,’ Vesago crumpled to the floor silently, robes spilling out next to him.

Vynlarion looked down to the crumpled form of his twin brother. Sighing, he sheathed his sword, and hefted his ebon haired, identical self, and placed him on a nearby bed. Malistra scoffed, pacing out of the room.

“Bloodmyst. Get out.” She said flatly.

“Yes ma’am.” He responded, irritated.
“You see, at that point, I severed part of his mind in Kairasa’s body, thus forcing him to be incomplete. Though, that didn’t matter to the Margravine, she wouldn’t trust him ever again. Hells, she still doesn’t.” Vynlarion shrugged lightly.

“Something must be done, Vynlarion…” She said softly, looking to the doorway.

“Agreed.” Vynlarion nodded firmly.

“I too share your sentiments…” A calm, collected voice said from the doorway. From out of sight, a cowled Vesago Duskwhisper stepped into the room, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Then so be it. I shall talk to the High Commander, Erythis Ashborne.” Vynlarion looked to the other two, who agreed silently.

Vynlarion began to step out, Vesago following him with his secreted eyes, his voice echoing Vynlarion’s thoughts verbatim: “The truth will out…”

Liratrix looked to the two of them “The truth will out.” She repeated calmly.

Chapter Two: Setting of the Dark Sun

Vynlarion stared out on the bleak, red stone horizon, eyes narrowed. “This is bad… We’ve no supplies, no reinforcements… Malistra certainly has doomed us.” He said quietly, to himself.

“Doomed? Perhaps… Damned? Perhaps not.” A female voice said from behind him.

The Blood Knight turned sharply, only to see Liratrix standing before him. “General?” He inquired… her voice didn’t seem right, and her posture was entirely wrong.

The woman shook her head, before ripples of magic emanated from her form, her very person seeming to shed itself! After the process subsided, before him stood a red haired woman; her robes were elegant, her face regal and poised.

Vynlarion peered at her “High Commander?”

Erythis Ashborne nodded: “Yes, Captain… We’ve much to discuss… come.”

Vynlarion nodded, he had a great fondness for Erythis; she was kind, yet strong, as he had learned at a party the Legion had hosted, some time ago.

She raised her right arm, a portal forming beside her. She nodded once more, inclining him to step through.

The armoured man did so after a cursory glance, and was shortly followed by the High Commander.

When he reappeared, he stood in what was clearly a Dalaran study. “Dalaran?” He inquired, looking over to Erythis.

“It is one of the few places where we can talk undisturbed, Vynlarion.” She responded calmly, and motioned for him to take a seat at a nearby desk.

Two cups of tea sat contently on the text ridden desk, which Vynlarion took a seat before, and Erythis opposite him.

“I would’ve invited Commander Alorinis, but he was impossible to track down. Now, Vynlarion, what do you think of the Legion?” She asked calmly, taking a sip of her tea.

“I believe it is a fine organization, comprised of excellent soldiers. Why?” He leaned forward, hands folded before him.

“And what of its leader, the Margravine, Malistra Ashborne?” Erythis asked, straightening her back.

“…”Vynlarion remained silent… What was there to say? He broached no admiration for her, or her tactics.

“Exactly. Vynlarion, you’re a fine soldier and a good man… But none of us deserve to serve that horrid woman.” Erythis said sympathetically.

The male looked up, eyebrow quirked, “And what do you suggest?”

“I suggest that we fix what we, the direct servants of this harlot, are obligated to change. For the soldiers and ourselves, we must fix this. We must be rid of Malistra.” She responded, her voice steeled.

Vynlarion grinned, eyes determined and fierce: “Agreed. We must reform, the Legion must be reborn.”

A portal opened from inside the room, a fiery garbed man stepping through. “I’m not too late, am I?” Alorinis Bloodarrow said wryly, looking around.

Erythis let off a light chuckle: “No, you’re just in time. We need to discuss the details of our little…”

Vynlarion looked over, finishing her sentence: “The details of our Reformation. Malistra shall fall!”

Alorinis grinned deeper: “It’s about damned time.” However, his expression turned a serious one, “But Erythis, what about your baby? This is dangerous, you’re pregnant.”

Erythis looked down to her slightly protruding womb: “I’ll be fine, old friend.”

Alorinis frowned, but took a seat next to Vynlarion, “So, are we going to be reforming the Battalion, then?”

Vynlarion looked over: “Reform? And what Battalion do you speak of?”

“Before Erythis and Morthanos Karnstein created the Dark Sun Legion, she lead the Phoenix Battalion. It was like the current day Dark Sun Legion, but without a family lording over it, or some malevolent bitch ruling over it like some self titled queen.” Alorinis explained rather flatly.

“Agreed, now, for the details of this Reformation…”

One Day Later

The Blasted Lands’ western stretch of Worgen land, known as the Tainted Scar was filled with the battle cries of both Humans and Blood Elves.

Banners bearing a red sun rising on a black sky flew high, and were met by banners depicting an azure staff on a white backdrop. The two forces charged madly at each other, before they met in the centre of the northern field with a thunderous crash.

The Dark Sun Legion pushed forward, Humans, Worgens and Kaldorei falling at their skilled fury, but to no avail…

“Captain! There’s too many! We must withdraw!” Thaldur Ael’ayr shouted over the cacophony.

Captain Vynlarion Bloodmyst looked over, his broadsword locked with a Human’s: “We have our orders, Sergeant! We shall see out the Lady’s will!”

Thaldur gave a noncommittal snort as he beheaded a Night Elf. “To hells with that witch! We can’t just die out here!”
Vynlarion glared, before a shriek of an elven woman filled the air. The Blood Knight looked over to the source of the scream, and was greeting by a weary Olani Da’Kirne.

“Sir! General Sunlancer has fallen! She’s been stabbed through the stomach!” The magister spoke quickly.

Vynlarion cursed under his breath, what he wouldn’t give to have a bit of convenient mind control, courtesy of his twin.

He pushed back his assailant, and shouted fiercely: “Dark Sun Legion! Retreat! The General has fallen!”

From that back of the lines, a condescending shout: “Ah yes! By all means, retreat! Because that is what my dear niece, Malistra wishes!”

From inside his mind, an amused snicker echoed. Vynlarion scowled as the voice said in a light tone “You should put a muzzle on that one…”

“Enough, Vesago… We will deal with them in due time… You will have your redemption.” He spoke aloud, fully aware of the peculiar look Aesera Ashborne was giving him.

The horn of retreat sounded over the petty arguments, and the Legion quickly retreated.

Chapter Three: Reborn Anew, Phoenix of Quel'Thalas!

Once they had arrived at the Sunveil Excursion, more unfortunate tidings greeted the weary officers.

In his arms, Vynlarion carried the eerily pale form of Liratrix Sunlancer. Though, to the man to his right, Alorinis Bloodarrow and to himself, they knew this was indeed the stricken form of the High Commander, Erythis Ashborne.

Before them stood a scowling Malistra Ashborne. “I do not recall authorizing a withdrawal, Bloodmyst.”

“There was no time, Malistra!” Alorinis responded wearily, earning a glare from the Warlock.

“You will address me as Margravine, Commander. Or do you need to learn this as a General, as well?” She responded angrily.

However, the ranger Commander did not become angered. He let out a short breath of air, and responded flatly: “Apologies, Margravine.”

“Ma’am, I shall see to General Sunlancer’s wounds, at your leave.” Vynlarion said, trying to divert the ugly conversation.

The woman turned to the Blood Knight, nodding. “Yes. Do that.” She said simply, waving him off.

Vynlarion turned sharply, marching off to the farthest tent at the Excursion point. Laying the ‘paladin’ down, he pressed his hand on her womb, a frown creasing his noble visage. The woman looked up, her face that of Erythis, and not the disguise she wore.

“How is my child?” She asked weakly.

“High Commander, please, stay silent… Your wounds are grave.” The Captain responded, before resting a gauntleted hand over her stab wound, the Light forcing its way in and rather unceremoniously closing the wound.

The woman layed her head back, “Soon, Vynlarion…” She said with newfound strength.

“Indeed. Upon the next time she converses with me in private, I shall summon unto me the entire Legion, to watch as she is removed from her position.” Vynlarion respond calmly. “Rest, now, High Commander. Keep your pendant with you, for the time is nigh, and your presence will be needed.”

She nodded wordlessly as the man stepped out of the tent, only to be greeted by a red headed ranger.

“How is she, Vynlarion?” Commander Alorinis inquired.

“She’ll be okay, but her child is lost.” He responded rather flatly.

Alorinis looked away for a moment, an all too familiar grief assaulting his aged person. “I see… We must press on, though.”

Vynlarion nodded: “Indeed.”

Three Hours Later

Vynlarion sat outside Erythis’ tent, keeping a sharp vigil as the night dragged on. However, his lulled senses were quickly sharpened as the azure pendant about his neck vibrated with Malistra’s voice: “Captain Bloodmyst, we must have words, come speak with me.”

He responded rather firmly: “Certainly, Margravine.”

Pacing up the marred land, his greaves sliding some under the rocks, he was met by Malistra, who scowled at him.

“Bloodmyst, I did not order a withdraw.” She said angrily.

“It was that, or we would have fallen. Mayhap if you lead the soldiers upon the fields of battle, you would see this, too.” He responded rather boredly.

Her eyebrow twitches, “That is it! I have enough of your vile tongue, Bloodmyst!” Her voice screeched with unchecked fury. She raises a hand into the air, fel magics contorting around the appendage.

Vynlarion smirked as she gathered her magics, “My vile tongue? My, what a disgusting irony, Malistra…” His voice dripped with the hatred he held for the woman.

She sneered, her magic slamming into his chest, forcing him back a few feet. His tabard quickly caught a-flame, and was ripped off because of it, and stomped into the dirt.

The knight held his pendant, and spoke boldly “Legion! The Margravine has gone mad! She strikes at me! To arms! Defend your brother in arms!”

Near instantly, the Legion’s soldiers swarmed behind him, blades, staves, and other weapons drawn, faces steeled.

Alorinis stepped beside Vynlarion, offering the man a firm nod. However, before them teleported in a triumphant looking Erythis.

Her robes billowed in the wind, fiery hair cowl of pure flames. “Malistra! It is time we were rid of you, and your false leadership! I rebuke your claim to lead us, and I hereby dissolve the Dark Sun Legion! Your family’s rights over mine are hereby forfeit, as is your wretched family!” Her voice boomed grandly, staff shining brightly in her hand.

Vynlarion and Alorinis turned, facing the soldiers “Join us under the banner of the Phoenix Battalion, children of Quel’Thalas! Under the military leadership of Erythis Firestorm, we will defend Quel’Thalas in a true form, not bogged down by family politics!” Vynlarion’s voice championed Erythis’ words fiercely.

Malistra stood, her mouth agape: “How –dare- you!” She shouted furiously.

Alorinis scoffed: “Get out of here, Malistra. You’re done. You failed.” He waved a hand dismissively. He turned to Erythis “Would you like to do the honours?”

She smiled at him: “Certainly.” Opening a portal below Malistra’s feet, the vile woman quickly dropped out of sight.

“Where in the blazes did you send her?” Vynlarion said incredulously.

Erythis smirked a sly smirk: “Her own personal hell. Orgrimmar.” She then faced the soldiers before her. “Soldiers of the former Legion, I am Erythis Firestorm, like a phoenix, on this night, we are reborn in glorious flames!” She then looked at Alorinis and Vynlarion: “And you two, my dear friends, have earned a place at my side. For I shall be their Grand General, and Flame of Quel’Thalas… You, Alorinis Bloodarrow shall be the Shadow of the Flame, and General. And you, Vynlarion Bloodmyst, shall be the Champion of the Flame and General.”

The fiery woman lifted her staff high into the air, which was awash with flames. “Glory to Quel’Thalas!” She shouted.

Vynlarion unsheathed his broadsword in tandem with Alorinis unsheathing his trident, echoing the now Flame of Quel’Thalas: “Glory to Quel’Thalas!”

The soldiers before them grinned and cheered, before they as well lifting their weapons high into the air “Glory to Quel’Thalas!”