mwahahah tókst það , tvöfaldur kafli á föstudegi.
nú, það er tvöfaldur kafli útaf nokkrum ástæðum:
fyrsta ástæðan er hversu lélegur og seinn síðasti kafli var.

Önnur ástæðan er fyrir ruglaðri stafsetningavillu í endanum þannig að fyrir þá sem ekki sá þegar ég breytt því, það er ankthar sem er við það að deyja í lokapartinum ekki ace.

þriðja ástæðan fyrir tvöföldum kafla er þess skemmtilega tala. ég er hér með kominn með 50 kafla.tilefni til veislu segi ég.

ég sver það þegar ég byrjaði þá ætlaði ég í mesta lagi að hafa 30. bésvítans saga að vinda uppá sig eins og brjálaður gnome í orgrimmar með wrath settið.

fjórða ástæðan er sú að þetta er hundraðasti þráðurinn á spunakubbinum.
fróðir menn oghæfir ís tærðfræði geta vitnað um það að ég á þarmeð nákvæmlega helming af öllum korkum hérna.
ekki amalegt.
allavega þessi kafli er tvöfaldur þó hann líti kannski ekki í fljótu bragði fyrir að vera það, og vonandi betri en síðasta hörmung.

enjoy





50th chapter

Attempt to Redemption


Hvenfifar hadn’t really been up for any traveling through the scorching sands Ankthar had decided so he told her they would meet at the Un’goro crater. The panther then ran across the mountains of that separate Tanaris and the shimmering flats and across the rim of Un’goro
And while the way may be far longer than the one ace chose, Hvenfifar had the speed of a loner, the stealth of the panther and the haste of someone looking dearly to be reunited with her master.
And when she ran through the sands of moving trees (her own name for the noxious glade), she knew that Ankthar was in imminent danger.
And that there was someone watching them, hidden in the sand with others like him.
This only made her speed up and keep her eyes focused on the target.
It was evening and she had already hunted down last prey when she felt the shockwave.
It wasn’t much, normal elf or human could never have felt it, but Hvenfifar was a panther and in her eyes the shockwave was the most unnatural and obvious thing.
She saw where it had come from and took off, running faster than ever before.
It didn’t take too long to see where the shockwave had come from, feet were flying all around, people screaming and fighting for their lives.
Hvenfifar noticed her master as he was trying to get away from the ravening feet, and she noticed with horror and fear when one of them took hold of him and swung him around as a kitten.
Desperately she used every last bit of energy she had to go faster, to get to Ankthar in time.
At first it didn’t appear she’d make it. But she pushed on.

And his life flashed before him, the hard times at his mother’s house, the harder times outside of it, Adreena and the other, his first meeting with Exen’tor, his betrayal and the charred remains of his hated hometown.
Hvenfifar knew she was going to make it.
And he fell.
Mizra screamed.
He was almost happy.
She poised to jump.
Sira’dreth finally fought her w ay out of the sand but she was far too late.
Ankthar looked at the maw opening beneath him, held his head up high and greeted his death with a grin.

But the sound of her padded feet was that of an angel in his ears.
Hvenfifar jumped. She soared through the air, unafraid of the feet that swung around her. She headbutted Ankthar in the air, pushing both of them out of harms way.
There have probably been better and safer rescues in the history of rescues, but Ankthar could do with this one.
He felt at least two of his ribs crack and his shoulder dislodging but he knew that he was alive.
He’d look death in the eyes and won.
He landed headfirst quite violently, ate an enormous amount of sand and felt a finger or two break, but none of it mattered for he felt an incredible feeling of joy and salvation spread through his body.
He’d survived.
How he loved Hvenfifar right now, how he outright loved that cat of his.
He was exhausted though, injured battered and beaten, not in any state to help anyone so he let Hvenfifar drag him away to safety.

Ace was however beginning to feel the tug of the sand, sucking him down even with all his strength.
Ankthar was safe, Sira’dreth had gotten Exen’tor from harms way, so now there was nothing left but for him to get away.
But the sand, the sand was as if it was alive. It gripped his feet, heavy and unrelenting.
Every slow step was hindered by it and the bug feet were now swinging around trying to get him. He fell down, and the sand immediately began to consume him, dragging him towards the feet.
He realized the desperation of the situation, and fought bravely against the sand.
But the sand was quickly engulfing him and he knew that it was futile.
He didn’t want to die. Why should he die? He was one of the chosen!
Yes, why not, if it was death or exposure, he would definitely choose the latter. He could kill them all anyway and bring their dead bodies to Wisim.
That ought to make him angry enough.
Yes he was going to survive, to finish his mission to..
He noticed Mizra flying above him, and hope rekindled.
Not much but some of his body was still left in the open, some of his face and his right hand.
With great effort he ripped his hand from the sand, up in the air towards Mizra.
“Help me” he muttered through his sand covered mouth.
She looked at him with disdain and took his hand.
But instead of pulling him up she created an ice blade and swung it down upon the hand, cutting it off.
Ace screamed as the hand flew off. The pain made him lose all control as the sand buried him, screaming in surprise and agony.
“WHY!?” He screamed, before the sand filled his mouth. ”WHY?”
Mizra gave no answer, but threw the hand into the sand , then fluttered away.
Unable to transform ace was buried and then brutally swallowed whole.
And in the eyes of the gatekeepers that was the end of him.

But under the sand, half a smile erupted on a rotten face.

Mizra flew to Sira’dreth, and Hvenfifar where they attended Ankthar’s wounds.
She landed and ran to him, worried and frightened.
She hugged the cat tightly before she even took a look at Ankthar, praising and thanking her graciously for saving him.
“Thank you” she said, thank you.
“Mizra”, Sira’dreth said, “I think you need to do something for him.”
She pointed towards Ankthar and his broken ribs.
Mizra let go off Hvenfifar and turned her attention to Ankthar.
She knew what was now expected of her, they wanted her to just magically make everything okay with her newly discovered healing magic.
She put her hands over him and reminded herself, it doesn’t work like that, you just don’t suddenly get miracle healing powers and know how to use them instantly. She closed her eyes and focused inwards looking for that familiar place inside of her that kept her powers.
But there was something else there, something within her, rising, expanding, growing like a tumor within her soul.
She opened her eyes , activated her ice armor and yelled at Sira’dreth, “he’s here, Sworddevil is here!”
“What?” Mizra said alarmed and looked wildly around.” How? Where?”
She felt the repulsive tug on her heart as Sworddevil rose from the sand, answering her question, “here”.
The full blown force of the corruption was overpowering, for a second both blood elves heard thousand voices rolling forcing their way into their heads.
The fell to their knees holding their hands to their ears, moaning in pain.
Hvenfifar growled and bared her teeth to Sworddevil,
He swung his hand and threw a shadow bolt at the cat, the dark energy striking the cat on its head, throwing it wailing through the air.
Sworddevil looked at Mizra and Sira’dreth and smiled,” ahh yes,” he said extremely overconfident, “now you are finally ours.”
He took hold of Sira’dreths hair and violently pulled her face up, facing towards him.
“Trying to mumble your rhyme are we? Futile of course, it didn’t take us too long to figure out what it was what you were doing, so now there is simply more amount of glory and excellence flowing from my body.”
Both blood elves fell down, exhausted and unable to move or think.
The corruption was now flowing through their minds effortlessly, paralyzing their minds and bodies.

Sworddevil looked at them smiling, kicked Ankthar brutally in the face, and whistled a high pitched tone.
Four massive undead spiders, crypt fiends rose from the sand and gathered around Sworddevil.

They were nearly the same size as him, grey pitiful creatures with six feet on the ground and two hands in front of them.
There were bandages stuck on their limbs, their black eyes spoke of death, and their three phased bodies were repulsive to Ankthar as he slowly regain consciousness and now looked at them from below.
He was quiet, and acted as if dead , he knew that if he didn’t play this one right it would be the end of all of this, their journey and purpose.
“Exen’tors dream must survive”, he said to himself.
The crypt fiends began to wrap the Mizra, Sira’dreth and Exen’tor in a strange web like substance and put them on their backs.
Sworddevil looked at them and laughed.
He laughed and laughed and laughed the laughter of a deranged man finally seeing his dreams come to fruition.
The crypt fiends were quick at doing their work and were soon waiting only for Sworddevil.

He looked at Ankthar and even the dead part of his face smiled. He kneeled towards him as he lay there feigning dead and whispered:” you know, we were not really sure what to do with you, not really sure why you decided to join this band of clowns until we did some heavy digging about you.”
“I know what you did, why you did it and why you are doing,,,,,this.”
He kneeled lower and whispered so softly that Ankthar could hardly hear him over the sound of the wind:” you might think of them as some kind of redemption, but believe me, for people like you, for people like us there isn’t one.”
“No matter what you might try to do or say, there’s no escape from your past.”
“An entire city? I mean sure they were probably mean and all but come on isn’t that a bit much? Over reacting, just a little bit?
So I tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to leave you here for the sand, the sun and the bugs. And if you have any honor left in your soul you’ll have the decency to die out here.”
And with that Sworddevil stood up and mounted the only spider without a blood elf on its back and took off somewhere due north.

And for many moments, for hours Ankthar lay there contemplating what had just been said to him, that his past had not died with Runeville.
He closed his eyes and remembered the flames, the joy, the screams, the sense of justice and the loss of all sense in everything.
Then there came Exen’tor, and Ankthar opened his eyes, knowing what he needed to do.
He reached inside his backpack dragged a bottle filled with water from the well from his old home. He took a sip and felt the familiar warmth run through his body as the magic did it’s work.
He took another sip simply because the first one reminded him how thirsty he was.
Hvenfifar approached him, her hide burned by the sahdowbolt that had been thrown at her.
Ankthar opened the bottle ,took another sip and then forced the rest of the water down the panther’s throat.
The panther didn’t like the bitter taste but felt the powers of the water doing its work Ankthar took his gun , loaded it with care, then changed himself into a form he hardly ever used because It weakened his body and lowered his resistance by taking on the size of a dwarf and the slenderness of an elf.
The real reason though, why he never used the form was because it made him look like a gnome.

In this form he mounted the panther, hoisted the gun and said to Hvenfifar: “lets go and git ourselves some undead arse.”
Hvenfifar complied immediately and ran straight and true towards Sworddevil and the captured elves.
Ankthar held fast to its fur with eyes strained on the horizon ahead.
This time he was going to save lives.

Fighting for redemption one step at a time.