“Hey boys.” A woman, seductively dressed, hollered at the few ‘guards’ standing near the entrance of the newly erected temple near Node 14. These were her countrymen. They had traveled from their birth node here, following a god that had given them a home and more than enough food. She gave them a coy smile as she approached them holding an amphora filled with wine. “I thought I’d come and give my thanks to the brave men who guard poor, ailing Anak’thas.”

“Oh! That’s too kind!” One of the men said. In seconds they were all over her as she poured them their drinks. There was something about the night that made men thirsty for wine and company. “The Mistress will soon be back to cure our ailing lord. I’m sure of it. Her paladins say she will.” Another man, sitting on a stool with a spear said as he held out his cup to be filled.

“I do so dearly hope it. But it’s not as if life under Benea is that much worse.” The woman said as she kept up the smile.

“No.. No it isn’t.” The man said as he took a sip of the wine. In a few more minutes the woman was sitting on the lap of one of the men. Everyone had had their fair share of wine by now. They were all laughing too. Until one suddenly stopped. At first, he just started coughing and nobody paid him any mind. Then they grew annoyed by it. Soon though, the man fell to his knees and wheezed for air. Then the others began to cough. The woman, who hadn’t had a drop of the wine, just got up and grinned as the traitors protecting her god’s prison began to suffocate before her. Once they were taken care of she took one of the torches burning and started to wave with it.

“That’s our signal,” Arakaes said. The man was born old by the First God. Not that it mattered. He carried the heart of a young zealot. “We must go!”

“I-I’m not sure.” Said Eireos. “What will Benea do if she hears about this? She might kill us all. I-I don’t want to be-“

The doubting young man was grabbed by his tunic by a middle-aged man. “Listen here cub.” Said Mureos. “The time for doubt is over. Our lord's work must be done. Now grab your knife and get ready. You’re about to be part of a tale they’ll talk about for years.”

The young man, Eiros, swallowed deeply but did brandish the dirk he was given.

These three men, and many more others rushed over from the alleyways of their fledgling city towards the temple. They rushed inside, surprising the traitors that once called Anak’thas their god. With a swift stab to the chest, both of them were dispatched. Outside, meanwhile, the poisoned guards were dragged in so as to not arouse suspicion.

“What now?” Asked Mureos. “Where is it?”

“I.. I saw the box that way. I wasn’t allowed to clean that room. Two of Benea’s Paladins were guarding it. There was another… oh god.” Eireos looked at the blood staining the tunic. He was visibly shaking.

“Get a grip of yourself boy!” Mureos hissed as he slapped the young Eiros. “What other? What other did you see?”

“Another room!” Eiros whimpered. “To the side. Another box. Another Paladin. That’s all I know! Please. Please! I shouldn’t be here.”

Mureos just sneered and shoved him towards Arakaes. “Let’s go. We have our god to save.” He looked down with utter disdain at his slain countrymen. For a second he thought he could hide his disgust. Then he realized that he couldn’t and that he shouldn’t. So he spat at their dead faces before making his way towards the room pointed out to house the two paladins and their final goal. Arakaes ran off with a group of Anak’thas’ faithful towards the other room.

The group came face to face with two of Benea’s Paladins, dressed in armor they had never seen before and armed with weapons they couldn’t dream of. They had their shields raised and their spears pointing at the door. “No one enters.” One stated.

Arakaes grit his teeth. “I’m here to release my Lord.”

“The god Anak’thas is unwell. Benea will cure him. Leave now or suffer the consequences.” The Paladin said.

“I can’t do that.” Arakaes said. “I can’t do that. I heard the calling of my god and I will answer it!” He reached out with his hand and felt the divine power of Anak’thas coursing through his arm. A mote of silver formed in his hand and shot forward. The Paladin had fought the supernatural before though. With a swift move of his shield, the silvery mote was deflected, and carnage broke out.

The people of Anak’thas rushed forward, only to be met with the deft and skillful spears of the Paladins. Three people died in an instant. Arakaes rushed forward too with his khopesh sword raised. He hewed into the shield of the Paladin with a silver flash but the Paladin gave him a kick to send him flying backward. The two locked into combat. One possessed with a zeal and fervor matched only by the skill and experience of the Paladin. Until one made a misstep.

Arakaes slipped on the blood of his people and fell. The Paladin wasted no time. With one def stab to Arakaes’ back he finished the fight. Arakaes screamed out in pain, and then felt nothing. Nothing at all. With utter horror he turned to look at his legs. He bid them to move. To do something! Nothing. With wild eyes he turned to look at his people who were still fighting the Paladins. Neither side were gaining ground, but Arakaes saw a little space in between the two fierce warriors.

Only Eiros – frightful Eiros – could fit through it. “Eiros!” Arakaes bellowed. “Finished it! Free him!” Right then the old man found the eyes of the young lad holding a dagger. He was their only hope now. Only Eiros would be able to slip through. A spark lit up in the young man’s eyes. This was it. He rushed forward, ducked low, and pushed away one shield.

The spear flashed before Arakaes for only a second. But it stopped Eiros in his tracks. A spurt of blood coated the side of the wall of the temple, as the young man fell down on his knees. “Eiros!” Arakaes yelled out. The old man’s heart sunk. Then Eiros fell down forward. Bloodstained his white robes.

With desperate tears, Arakaes turned towards the pedestal upon which the copper box stood. In there was his Lord. His god that gave him this faith. The two Paladins paid him no mind. Why should they? He was already feeling weaker. Blood flowed out of him like a creek. In only a few counts he’ll lose consciousness.

A few counts he still had then. With only his arms he began to drag himself across the corpses of his slain people. His legs were nothing but a burden now. He hated them so intensely. If he could cut them off now, he would. There was no time for that now though. Arakaes grunted every time he pulled himself forward. Until he reached the pedestal. It towered over him. At first, with one hand, he tried to push it over. No chance. It was far too heavy. Behind him the fighting continued. Arakaes didn’t look back. He couldn’t waste any moment to that, to doubt. He reached upwards with one hand and grabbed a corner of the pedestal, then with his other hand he reached up again. With all the might he could muster he pulled himself up the hateful pile of chiseled stone. Cursing with every move. Again he reached higher until finally, he could pull himself up to the level of the copper box. With one, last, desperate shove he pushed the box off. His limp, useless body fell down on the pedestal in its place. Only then did Arakaes realize that the box was still closed with a latch.

Again he reached out, with a blood-drenched arm. The box was already beyond his reach. Even if the world seemed to move slower. He didn’t want to open the latch himself. He couldn’t. Instead he bid everything, the world, the spirits, anything that would answer his last, death plea. It was answered by a small silver flash upon the latch, and the crack it created. 

The box fell down. The shock from it broke the latch completely and as it fell over, the top of the box fell open. Out rolled a crystalline lantern that lit up brightly the second it was freed. It was the last thing Arakaes saw and it was beautiful.

A moment later and Anak’thas took shape laying on the ground. He gasped as if for air to draw into his non-existing lungs. He looked up, trying to grasp the situation. One of Benea’s Paladins saw it happen and wasted no time. He pulled back his spear and stabbed down into the god. Anak’thas yelled out in pain as the spear pierced his newly formed corporeal flesh. The spear hit him perilously close to his Lantern.

The Paladin pulled the spear back and again tried to stab down upon Anak’thas. This time the god grabbed the spear and directed the trust into his own arm. Again he screamed out. But he bought enough time. The people behind the Paladin were shocked at first to see their god take form again. But when they saw the Paladin attack him they all rushed forward. They grabbed the man by his armor and shield to drag him back. The people, seemingly possessed by demons, threw themselves upon the Paladin and started stabbing with wild abandon at his arm. Some even bit down with their teeth as they wretched the arm away from their God.

In seconds the flesh of the Paladin was stripped away, and with a wet flop his right arm fell down from his body. The people continued to savage him as Anak’thas rose up. The other Paladin, despite seeing the horror subjected upon his brother, stood his ground against the mob of zealots. That was, until he caught a glimpse of Anak’thas who reached out for the man. He tried to turn towards the god but not in time. The distraction was enough. The people took him too. They dragged him down to the ground with no regard for their own lives. The favored Paladin managed to take three more zealots with him, but eventually he too died from a thousand cuts and stabs.

[color=fff200]“Where are my Laws?”[/color] Anak’thas asked. [color=fff200]“Where are my weapons?”[/color]
[hr]
One Paladins, against a horde of untrained zealots. Some of which wielded strange, silvery magics. By all rights, the Paladin should’ve been killed already but the man didn’t think about that right now. He thought about holding out. Before him laid eight corpses of the fools that fought him. His own spear was broken though. He was down to his sword but he would take another eight easily before he would give in. Except he didn’t. The people began to chant.

“He has return! He has returned! He has returned!”

They pulled back from the small room in which an unassuming chest was kept. The Paladin didn’t lower his shield though. Oh no, he would stand and fight anything and anyone that came through the opening of that battered door.

What stepped forward was not just anyone though. It was Anak’thas himself. Fear gripped the Paladin’s heart. Only with Benea could he fight a god. Alone, well he was only mortal. For a second he wanted to drop his shield and sword but then he raised it up again. If he was going to die, he would die with his weapons raised. He would die loyal to Benea. To the very end!

[color=fff200]“You’re a brave man to face me.”[/color] Said Anak’thas.
[center]~[/center]
It wasn’t a fight. Not really. The Paladin’s shield laid crumbled like a leaf to the side. The man’s helmet was split in twain. His spear – he tried to use half of it still – was now nothing but splinters now and Anak’thas had pierced him with his own sword.

[color=fff200]“You fought. You lost. Now rest. Whatever duty you felt you had to my sister, you’ve fulfilled it.”[/color] Said the god as he released his embrace of the mortal. The Paladin, still with his sword straight through him, tried to step forward. To grab Anak’thas and do.. something!? But there was only so much his torn-up body could physically do. With small move was enough. His legs collapsed and he fell backward. Though he clung to life for as long as he could.

A dark and shallow breath parted from the Paladin's lips. "You will doom the world with your actions… it was seen…"

Anak’thas, for his part, had already turned towards the chest and opened it. Inside were his tools. His hammer and chisel. Slowly but with purpose, he put on the bracers, and then turned around to face his faithful. [color=fff200]“From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”[/color]

“We will fight for you my lord!” Said Meneos. “We’ll kill every last traitor so you can take back the land!”

[color=fff200]“I see your passion. Yes, yes you will.”[/color] Said Anak’thas, who sounded far less spirited than his own followers now. [color=fff200]“But not now. You can fight, but your children? Your family? Should they? No. Nobody should suffer if they did not take up the sword themselves. Hear me! I will travel east to tame the chaos there and claim the node. It will be our sanctuary. If you have loved ones, tell them to leave tonight. In two days hence the chaos will be cleared and they can make their final trek. With that, they should have enough time to stay ahead of my treasonous sister.”[/color]

“What about us? What about your land here?” Asked one of the Faithful.

[color=fff200]“On the tenth night, I will return. Be ready then, my warriors. My Faithful. There will be war. There will be more of enemies. Her Paladins. There will be more traitors. Study my gift – the silver faith – and train. When I return, I will call upon all of you.”[/color] The god looked up at the many faces that had begun to congregate here.

[color=fff200]“Who will fight against my sister?”[/color] Asked Anak’thas to all of them.

The people looked around as if they weren’t sure about the answer. But old Meneos knew. “Only the Chosen!” He bellowed.

[color=fff200]“Who will be my light in the dark?”[/color]

“Only the Chosen!”

[color=fff200]“Who will wield my gift?”[/color]

“Only the Chosen!”

[hider=Summary]A raid is organized against the temple (prison) where Anak’thas is kept. His faithful first poison the guards, then attack it as a mob. However things don’t go as easy as planned. Two of Benea’s Paladins stand guard to protect the chest in which Anak’thas is kept. The mob tries to fight them but they’re superior warriors. One of the mob’s leaders tries to fight one of the Paladins but gets paralyzed from the waist down. In a last desperate attempt that costs the man’s life, he does manage to free Anak’thas.

Emboldened by the sight of their god the mob fells the two Paladins in a mad frenzy. Anak’thas proceeds to retrieve his weapons, the Laws of Anak’thas. After that he declares his intentions to first create a safe haven to the east. After that he’ll return to reclaim the node that is rightfully his.[/hider]

[hider=Might]Anak’thas Start: 5MP
- 3MP >> Simple bestowment upon a group, Anak’thas blesses his Chosen with the Silver Faith. Magic fueled by the faith in Anak’thas and his martyrs.
Anak’thas End: 2MP
[/hider]