[@MechonRaptor]

"Be wary! A demon of similar power killed Tirion Ford ring!"

Thalion held back a startled gasp at the unexpected news. He had known about the assault on the broken isles and the death of Warchief Vol'Jin, the events around it had led to Sylvanas' rise to head of the horde. 
But Tirion had fought, and slain, the Lich king himself. Fueled by the lights infinite strength he had seemed the embodiment of Azeroths hopes made flesh. A statue had been raised in Dalaran in his honor.. now he was nothing but a memory.

A chill ran up his spine that was not caused by the death knight.

Thalion rushed alongside the priestess, sword and pistol drawn and ready as they approached the wrathguard behind the Paladin and the death guard. The priestess would be occupied keeping the meat of the group alive, so he focused on keeping her alive. 

"I've got your back." He whispered before seeming to simply disappear. 

Stealthed and waiting, Thalion moved quietly in the surrounding area, bashing any demon waiting in the shadows into the open for the guardsame to finish.
The trash was still in great number, even if the biggest piece was storming it's way forward.
His pistol fired as he ambushed a demon from behind, grazing it's shoulder as it suddenly ducked before swinging around violently, greats word leading. 

Thalion leapt above the blade and felt it's keen edge whistle mere inches below him. Another shot fired before he hit the ground in a controlled roll, coming up on both feet with his Swords in either hand. 
A burst of fell-flame erupted in a green wave from his target as the demon laughed, expecting the pesky rogue to be incinerated.

Wreathed in writhing shadows he came out untouched from the gout of killing fire, much to the shock of the stupid demon. Both curved blades punched into its chest simultaneously ending it's life.
Thalion was stealthed and roaming the immediate area around the priestess before it ever hit the ground.
A trickle of red blood mixed with the green of demons as the rogue cursed his luck. 3 small claw lines across his back had cut through the shirt and lightly into his back while he had been fighting the bigger threat. 
Thalion cursed at himself quietly for allowing himself to be injured, however slightly.
A quick swallow from the hip flask, a crimson vial, started his flesh on the healing process, accelerated by the philosophers stone pinned in his coat.