Taking wing and flying back toward the center of the shattered Azerothian sky the val’kyr and her attendants passed from one realm to the next. With her, the pair of attendants each carried in hand one of the stolen Templars. Their souls had been compressed into spheres, a magic binding to secure them during their transportation.
Inside the spheres each Templar was vaguely aware of their surroundings. The binding magic partially obscuring the world outside their new prison. Flashes of color and lights, pale purples, bright blues, and a myriad of amorphous shapes were visible to them moments before the spherical prisons shattered, popping like a glass bubble, and ejected their souls expanded taking on the shapes they were most comfortable with.
When they emerged the four were staggered by a disorienting wave they paused to recover from. Before them, a pair of large red wings extended protectively. They were at the back of a familiar creature. A loud cry echoed from one of the Mawsworn attendants moments before it crashed to the ground. The val’kyr, still hovering above far away from the battle, sneered and pointed at the figure. “Kill her and hurry back with my tokens.” She then turned and flew off as the final attendant flew in to attack their potential protector.
The woman in front twisted to face them, and any question about who—or rather what—she was, had been dispelled immediately. The crimson, winged eredar wore a red, black, and gold tabard and a dark red favor with a ligher stylized naaru inverted by her waist. “Run.” She barked and bared her fangs turning to meet the oncoming Mawsworn’s weapon with her own. She struck out at the attacker again, putting her weight into the weapon she bore and shoved the blackened angel backwards.
The strange eredar held off the Mawsworn as the four of them looked amongst each other. Weapons readied, but Janderius spoke up, “We didn’t stand a chance, but whoever that is does. We need to go!” Sielic and Zaanthe nodded reluctantly, Jarrick grimaced and eventually agreed. They turned and made their way into the nearby woods. The four Templars ran, their surroundings strange and bewildering. A dreary color pervaded the trees in front of them, and they came upon a dull stone bridge. A cloaked figure darted from the trees, seizing Sielic in a grey hand with long, sharp fingernails resembling claws. A smile of fanged teeth. Zaanthe turned and swung his hammer into the midsection of the cloaked being. The creature dropped Sielic and doubled over with a gasp. It recovered quickly, but looked confused, shocked.
“Scatter!” Jarrick shouted to his allies and darted across the bridge. Sielic sprinted into the forest, while Janderius leaped from the bridge and plummeted down below, a quiet word on the air as he fell, “Shit.” Zaanthe found himself running downhill, strange architecture in the distance. The Templars left the cloaked being behind quickly, and it soon turned and traveled towards a nearby settlement.”
Written with help from Sielic.