The air within the Citadel of Nightfallen was thick with the scent of ancient stone and echoes of long-forgotten battles. Vaelor, the Death Knight General, stood at the threshold of the final floor before the throne room, his imposing figure clad in blackened armor that gleamed under the flickering torches. He could still feel the weight of the past pressing upon him, the memories of battles fought and victories won. But among those memories, one event stood out like a scar carved into his soul—a fateful raid that tested the very limits of his power and resolve.
It had been a time when their guild, Nightfallen, was under siege by a group of players—an alliance of fifty determined to breach the citadel's defenses and claim the treasures hidden within. At last six reached the citadel just before the throne room.
They were no ordinary challengers; four of them stood at level 90, with the remaining two boasting the formidable power of level 95. The odds were stacked against him, but he was not merely a guardian; he was the Death Knight General, an embodiment of darkness and relentless will.
Vaelor's grip tightened around the hilt of his massive sword, Gravecaller, its dark blade absorbing the ambient light as he prepared for the confrontation. He could hear the muffled voices of the invaders outside the threshold, their overconfidence dripping with contempt.
"Let's take this place down!" shouted one of the players, his tone brimming with bravado. "We'll take whatever we want!"
Vaelor stepped forward, his voice resonating through the stone hall, "You will not pass."
The door burst open, revealing the raid party—six figures clad in vibrant armor, their weapons gleaming with magic. The players were a mix of classes: a warrior with a massive greatsword, a sorceress crackling with arcane energy, a rogue shrouded in shadow, a paladin radiating holy light, and two rangers perched back, arrows nocked and ready.
With a battle cry, the warrior charged, his greatsword aimed directly at Vaelor's heart. The Death Knight General remained unmoved, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation.
As the warrior swung down, Vaelor parried with Gravecaller, the clash of metal reverberating through the chamber. "You underestimate the power of the Nightfallen," he growled, twisting his blade and delivering a powerful kick that sent the warrior staggering back.
Before the warrior could regain his footing, the sorceress unleashed a torrent of fireballs, the flames spiraling toward him. Vaelor responded with a swift motion, raising his free hand to conjure a barrier of shadow, absorbing the fire and dissipating it into wisps of smoke.
"Now, I'll show you the true meaning of despair!" Vaelor roared as he thrust his sword forward, summoning dark energy that surged through the air. The shadows coalesced into a wave, crashing into the rogue, who had attempted to flank him. Caught off guard, the rogue was thrown against the wall, his agility failing him in the face of overwhelming power.
The two rangers retaliated, their arrows flying toward him with deadly precision. Vaelor sidestepped gracefully, feeling the breeze of the projectiles pass him, and countered by slamming the hilt of Gravecaller into the ground. Dark tendrils of magic erupted from the floor, ensnaring one ranger and immobilizing her.
With a swift motion, Vaelor drew upon his skills and invoked Dark Rejuvenation, drawing power from the shadows around him. The tendrils absorbed the energy of the fallen foes, bolstering his strength as he felt the familiar surge of vitality coursing through him.
The paladin, undeterred by his fallen comrades, raised his shield, channeling holy energy into a radiant strike. "You will pay for your arrogance!" he shouted, charging forward with the weight of justice on his shoulders.
Vaelor met his challenge head-on, raising his sword to deflect the blow. The clash sent shockwaves through the air, and the paladin grunted under the strain. But Vaelor pressed forward, pivoting to the side and thrusting Gravecaller into the paladin's side. The blade sank deep, drawing forth a cry of pain from the holy warrior as dark energy enveloped him, sapping his strength.
"Your light cannot pierce the shadows," Vaelor hissed, twisting the blade before pulling it free.
The remaining rangers regrouped, their arrows crackling with elemental magic as they aimed to finish him off. Vaelor's dark eyes narrowed, and he activated Ebon Veil, cloaking himself in shadows. The arrows sailed harmlessly past, and in the moment of distraction, he lunged forward, appearing right before them.
With a sweeping arc of his sword, he caught one ranger off guard, sending him sprawling to the ground. The other ranger desperately nocked another arrow, but Vaelor was quicker, closing the distance and delivering a swift blow that shattered the ranger's defense.
As the last two players—both level 95—struggled to regain control, the warrior returned to the fray, bloodied but not broken. "We can't lose to a single guardian!" he shouted, rallying his comrades.
"Then try your hardest!" Vaelor taunted, channeling Death's Grasp, a skill that sent icy tendrils reaching toward the remaining players. The tendrils wrapped around the warrior and the sorceress, sapping their strength and momentum.
With each passing moment, the tide of battle turned further in his favor. Vaelor felt invigorated, the shadows responding to his call, urging him to unleash his might. The sorceress summoned a tempest of ice to freeze him in place, but with a wave of his hand, he shattered the icy prison, the shards scattering like glass in a storm.
"Your magic falters against me!" he roared, moving with a speed that defied the weight of his armor. He closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, unleashing a flurry of strikes that forced the sorceress into a defensive posture.
Just as he prepared to land the finishing blow, the paladin surged forward, desperation fueling his every movement. "I won't let you hurt her!" he bellowed, raising his shield to protect his comrade.
Vaelor, undeterred, used Shadow Step, vanishing from sight and reappearing behind the paladin. With a swift strike, he knocked the paladin off balance, delivering a crushing blow to his back. The paladin fell to the ground, defeated.
With the paladin down, the battle grew increasingly one-sided. Vaelor turned his attention back to the remaining players, his sword gleaming with dark energy as he prepared to end the fight. The sorceress unleashed a final desperate spell, a torrent of flame meant to engulf him, but Vaelor met it head-on.
"Foolish mortals," he snarled, raising Gravecaller*high. "You have brought this upon yourselves!" He channeled all his power into a single, devastating strike, cleaving through the flames and straight into the heart of the spell, dissipating it in an explosion of energy.
As the dust settled, only Vaelor stood victorious amidst the remnants of a shattered raid party. The chamber echoed with silence, the once-boisterous cries of invaders replaced by the weight of defeat. He had faced overwhelming odds and emerged unscathed, a testament to his strength and loyalty to the Citadel.
With the battle won, Vaelor surveyed the fallen bodies of the players strewn across the floor, a mixture of triumph and solemnity washing over him. They had underestimated him, and in their arrogance, they had paid the price. He turned his gaze toward the throne room, where Lucian awaited, knowing that the Death Knight General would always be ready to protect what was his.
This victory was more than just a defense of the Citadel; it was a reminder that darkness could rise against any light, and he was its relentless guardian. The memories of the raid would fade into the annals of history, but Vaelor would carry the strength of that battle forward, ready for whatever challenges lay ahead in the realm of Nightfallen.