Vignette (Short Tale)

Rain spattered off the Blood Knight's armor, showing crimson against the stained finish of his heavy battle plate. The kaldorei he'd struck down lay gasping at his feet, clutching the shattered remains of his bow to his chest. The kaldorei's great white cat lay dead some distance away, staring up unseeing at the cold, stormy sky, her fangs and claws bared in a frozen death-snarl. Blood flowed like a river, carrying the kaldorei's life away.

"M...monster," the kaldorei gasped, blood frothing on his lips. His killer stared down at him with cold, merciless eyes that burned like twin stars. The dying kaldorei's words faltered, as he was judged in the weight of that pitiless gaze. A low, growling laugh, as harsh as steel being drawn from a scabbard, echoed in the depths of the Sin'dorei's helm. "I am not the one who brought war to a dying people," the Blood Knight rumbled, as he grasped his battle-blade with both hands. "You picked up your swords -first-, murderer. We will not lie down and die for you."

The sword descended as ravens screamed across the battlefield. Knight-Lord Maelthas Bloodhawk stepped away from the cooling carcass, leaving the kaldorei's remains to the carrion-eaters. Across the forests of Quel'thalas another alarm was raised, as the remains of the scattered raiding party were tracked down and slaughtered. The Blood Knight's eyes blazed as he summoned his war-charger, and rode forth from Quel'thalas to mete out some justice and vengeance of his own.