A low hum fills the air, punctuated by wordless whispers. The air itself looks corrupted, a reddish mist floating around. They stand at certain points in a circle around what appears to be a shimmer in the air. Inside appears to be an eyeball. Yellowish, with a black pupil. The iris is vertically slit, and appears to focus on random spots in the cavern. Hooded and robed, the chanters stand. Their heads bobbing slightly in perfect synchronization with each other. The wordless whispers increase in volume, and one can almost make out words. The reddish mist also thickens.

One of the cultists stands apart from the circle, a suspicious bulge protruding from his back over his shoulder. He stutters, mispronouncing the words, breaking the chanting rhythm. The chanters stop in suprise and look at the intruder in their midst. Silence reigns for a moment. One of the chanters breaks the silence by moving their hands in preparation of casting an offensive spell. In a lightning-fast move, the would-be cultist throws off his robe, revealing himself. Drawing the weapon from his back, the draenei spins his it around neatly decapitating the caster. The others follow suit, chanting and casting spells. The draenei moves with a quickness that belies his size. Every swing of his glaive either has a cultist choking to death on their own blood or screaming at the sudden amputation of a limb. Spells fly past him to impact the cavern walls along with arterial sprays of blood from the ones the draenei targeted next.

———————-

Pulling the wickedly curved tri-blade out of a recently-expired cultist, the draenei looks around the cavern. Spying a raised surface of stone engraved with runes that has parchments upon it, he strode towards it and began flipping through the pages. His lips move silently as he reads and a frown crosses his face. A low grunt coming from his mouth, he flips the pages over leaving them scattered on the floor. He scans the cavern looking for a means of exit. Raising his weapon as it shines with Light, he slams it downward onto the stone altar. With a loud crack and flash of light, the altar is sundered. The shimmering in the middle of the room appears to melt away, revealing an open portal. Streams of purple and red color the edges. The draenei nods and grips his glaive tightly as he strides through.

Author Acele
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