Serpentfall (character retiring)


 “A pity I won’t be around to watch them all die horribly,” the elf coughed, “sir.”

A molten claw hung over her bloodied head, the Horde had ambushed her and Crag in the mountains around Orgrimmar. Crag had managed to escape with only minimal wounds, the elf, however…

“Hush, Whitehair,” the Sovereign lowered his head down at the shattered body of Avenrue. “You will serve in a better capacity soon.”

The elf’s eyes widened, “W-what do you mean?” With that the flaming maw of the Sovereign opened, her remaining life energy flowing off her body and into his throat. The huntress’ remains quickly ignited to ash and burned away. Suddenly a dark shape emerged in the ashes and shook itself free of the cinders. It looked up at Apophan and blinked burning emerald eyes at him before rising like a faithful cat and coiled around his hand and up his molten arm to rest instinctively behind his shoulder.

“Ruva, I shall name you.” The serpent snorted.

“That is a silly name,” the serpent that was Avenrue hisses at him.


His faithful slave bounded after him cheerfully, one of the few to do so in his long career. She bowed before him, “Master! I have brought Bryagh his food and he’s eating.” The molten Sovereign turned and nodded his helmed head, or what passed for it anyway.

“The war is starting, Kymu… I have need of something from you, your fire has done well, but I need more.” The draenei, ever obedient nodded, “My body and soul belong to you, Master.”

“As it should be, you will forever serve me, in life and in the Abyss,” he rumbles as he turns and opens his maw, the life of the draenei flowing into him, empowering him further. Her eyes water with tears of joy as she slumps to her knees and falls, burning away to ashes. A dark shape wriggles free of it and flies gleefully over to the Sovereign, coiling around him affectionately.

“You are Kilya, henceforth.” The dark spirit wriggles to rest behind his shoulder. Ruva emerges and rolls her glowing eyes.

“Also a stupid name,” Ruva mutters.


His molten claws cupped her slender cheek, he own power kept her safe from the flames. In the sands of Ahn’Qiraj, in the audience chamber, the Sovereign had chosen this spot for his last stand. The great walls of the Qiraji would bear witness to his ultimate victory: The Ghostwolves, Illuminati, and Shadow Tusk, dead and ashes before his power.

“Zul’Gurub was lost, the Siege broken by the Illuminati and Xork.” He could feel the Inquisitor tense beneath his flaming claws.

“We will crush them together Jin’aari.” Suddenly her hands wrapped around his spiked helm as her life force and power were pulled into his body, her eyes locked on his as tears formed before the flames overtook her.

“Yes,” he intoned. “We will…” His voice hinted not sadness but comfort; she was always with him now. “You, alone… would have had the right to stand beside me as a new queen…” From the ashes, a red-eyed serpent spirit emerged, whipping over to his body.

“But you will forever serve alongside me as Anaysa.” A serpent with emerald and one with blue eyes popped out of his back to welcome the third.


Victory was at hand. The destruction of Zul’Gurub was within his grasp! As his fingers slipped around the neck of the Shadow Tusk tribe, Linthara and Xork tore his hands away and shattered his victory.

Here, in the sands of Ahn’Qiraj, three serpents of dark shadow coiled around his body. Two had been used at Zul’Gurub to control their weak-willed fellows into sowing discord among the ranks. So much had gone according to plan, yet even the Silithid armies could not stop the Orcs and the Elves.

Lacryma. The entity that held in the back of the Lightbreaker’s mind this whole time, the one who’s body served the Faithful for years, was free and getting her revenge. His claws tightened.

“Brudda,” the Necromancer said beside him. Among the pair, only the sands and ruins of Ahn’Qiraj would hear their final words to each other. “I must make a request of ya.”

The Sovereign turned and nodded to Kamazlek, “You are the one who alone stands with me at the final hour. Anything, brother.” His voice rumbled and cracked like rocks and tongues of flame biting at wood.

The drakkari tightened his grip on his Scythe, a weapon not unlike Wakichonze, the scythe that carried his father’s own soul. “I would ask dat I be given da full taste of da Lords link, ta stand ready ta destroy dems.”

Without a second’s hesitation Apophan raised a claw over the Necromancer and unending power from the Abyss fell into the troll. He could sense the Chosen ascending to the power of Lordship.

Then, the gates exploded.

Raising his claw he roared at the City, “For the Eye! For the Maw! For the Maelstrom!” As the armies of the Horde descended upon the Defensive Matrix Chamber, the Silithid Spiders that guarded the walls of the city and the Twilight Drakes that now guarded the skies circled overhead. Their voices joined in a symphony of doom.

“AZJ. TAL. AZJ. TAL. AZJ. TAL. AZJ. TAL.” They were calling for the Weapon of the Gods to come forth and bring ruination on the invaders. With each word, the Link strengthened and filled the Two Lords. Kamazlek brandished his scythe and Apophan held out his claws, a bolt of lightning slammed between his fingers and solidified into the wicked Wakichonze, the chain scythe many in the crowd knew and feared more than his claws.

Chevayo Goretotem struck first against Apophan and was thrown aside, up the stairs. The electrified chain on his weapon burned the air as it danced and slashed at the attackers. Several made great strides at him, the troll stabbing him repeatedly, an orc getting a shot with a hammer at his head, and a Death knight sin’dorei impaling him. All were ineffectual. He could feel it. The Inquisitor’s life force had pushed him over the edge, he was immortal.

Then a spike shot through Kamazlek, he could feel the troll’s life slipping, it shattered his trance-like state of battle.
“I am a champion of the Light, Apophan, you cannot kill them while I stand and you cannot kill me.”

“I am the second coming of the DESTROYER! WHAT ARE YOU TO ME?!” He bellowed back at Linthara. He knew the words were true as he spoke them. Then, he looked around. One had betrayed him, he blew off her arm. His twilight drakes had fallen and been slain, even his silithid spiders and now, the Necromancer.

“Et, was an ‘onor… t’ s’…” and the troll was gone. He saw the Shadow Tusk moving in and leapt over, covering the drakkari’s body defensively, his spiked and lightning-infused chain whirled around, forming a cage of blue and white.

“You shall serve, brother.” He opened his maw and took what remained of Kamazlek’s immense power into him. For the first time, the entire Lord Connection settled on him, it was much to bear and his body changed and morphed into a more skeletal parody of a tauren.

His body suddenly flared with lightning as Linthara unleashed torrent after torrent of Light-infused water magic at him. Slowly, the Flame within him dissipated to only a smoldering rock and the Storm overtook him. He leaped at Lithara and crashed his scythe upon her shield, shattering it.

An orc, a troll, and an elf descended upon him and continued their assault. Something was happening. He was… weakening. The water had cooled his wounds and the Light seared them anew. He was dripping elemental power!

With a final blast he blew the attackers aside, only Linthara withstood the blast, and the Sovereign fell to his knees, encircled by a crowd of his most hated enemies.

His armor flaked and faded away to nothingness, tearing away to reveal his slowly reforming flesh, only a draping of metal and his Saronite chest plate covered him. His eyes opened wide and even the red hue faded.

He had lost. And for the first time in his life, since he became the Apophan, the Serpent, the Terror, the Enemy, he felt fear. This was not how it was supposed to be, he was destined to touch the Abyss. To crush his enemies!

And then he knew, the vision was not one of victory, but one of warning. In his arrogance, he’d misinterpreted the gift of the Eye, and at this crucial moment, the power left him and returned to the Earth. He was left with only his spirit and around him circled three black spirits, one with eyes of emerald, one of red, and one of blue.

I’ve failed us… he thought to them, and in the end, felt the wind whip around his fur and their shadowy coils tighten protectively. In the distance he could hear a familiar violet drake shrieking for blood followed by the three drakes he’d been sent to find. “No… child,” the Sovereign coughed. He could feel the pain of his greatest creation and the mournful cries echoed as Bryagh wheeled into the distance, beyond the mountains.

Linthara said something, a farewell it sounded like. Apophan looked up and around at the jeering crowd. He could only see Xork’s face and wished Rakhalen had been here for him to kill. That would have been fitting. As he turned his head back towards Linthara, he could see behind her, a twisted visage of his Queen, N’kiru ka.

Ya failed, Awakanka… she hissed his true name and he wondered if any here knew. If any of those killing him now knew his true name Awakanka Venomblood. When he concluded they hadn’t, he smiled as the blade of Linthara sped towards his neck, and he threw his head back, laughing as the sky darkened. They do not kill me, he mused. They send me only to my Gods… where I will await their children’s births, when I return, I will find those with their blood and eradicate th- The defiant thought ended as the blade bit into his throat and he tasted metal and cold for the first time in his life, his laugh choked dead and his massive head went flying, his black blood sprayed and burned whatever it touched as he fell back, the shadow spirits around him coiled into the body.

His laughter echoed and rang across the City as a bolt of lightning slammed into the defensive crystal at the center of the chamber. Rapidly, the Obelisks reactivated. He mouthed a word with his final movements of life: “N’ki”. With that, his eyes rolled back and he saw no more.

Around the spirit of the Queen, the city crumbled and the invaders fled. She knelt before him, “Come, Awakanka…” His body melted and burned away to ash and poison as she and his spirit descended to the Abyss.

As the darkness overtook them, he felt the Necromancer latch on, and together, they passed through the Maw into Oblivion. Now, the world was safe. Azeroth had nothing more to fear from the one called Apophus Abd'Zoth.

<<soundtrack: >>

Bryagh landed on a mountainside, shrieking and howling in pain and anguish for his fallen master. He slammed his armored head to the rocks and left cracked imprints. One peak shattered and broke off into the sea.

Three drakes landed near him and made gurgled hissing sounds as they approached, their heads low and submissive before they coiled near the massive proto-drake. The sun’s rising light rippled over the ocean.

And Bryagh hated it.

“Ze Orah!” the dark skinned man called to their hut as he charged up the hill. “T’ fightin’ be ova…” He fell against the open doorway and gripped it. “I… I lost dems all. M’sista… and now m’broter… f’eva.” His hand clasped his eyes, as trickles of tears dripped down his sun-baked cheeks onto a graying beard.

“Wat do I do now?” He asked a raven-haired woman in a rocking chair with skin as sun-kissed as his. She rose with a bundle of cloth in her arms and held it out to her husband.

“We live on, Radok," Bienna smiled at him.


Hours later, Crag Venomblood returned to the encampment in Stonetalon. His armor was broken and he landed in a slump around the dying campfire as dawn overtook them. He could feel his blood boiling with rage.

“I should have been there, I should have been with him,” he sighed to the flames.

“Hrmph, then you’d be dead too,” an ancient bull emerged from the tent, long ago his rich black fur and added to a dignified silver. “And then I’d be trapped here alone with nothing but three pathetic excuses for Reavers and THEM,” Awakorwi snorted. “My nephew is dead. But we’re not.”

Crag was almost shocked at his frankness, “I… I’ve already declared recognition of the new Sovereign, the Bonemaw.” This seemed to please the old bull.

“Good, I won’t have to anoint him myself. Come, you have had a long night, it’s time to rest. CHILDREN! To bed, you have not rested and tomorrow we break camp.”

Two Sin’dorei girls sat on the edge of the cliff where the rocks jutted over the canyon. As the sun rose, its light splashed on their faces and they recoiled as if it had been water.

One was wild-haired with black, segmented horns jutting from her tresses. Her skin was a pale pink with an ashen hue. The other had silver tresses that ran straight down her strong cheeks. Both of their eyes were a blood red with orange slashes. Their slit pupils narrowed at the rising sun.

The wild-haired one asked, “What now? Father is dead.”  The light-haired one shrank, “Your mother is likely dead… your mother didn’t kill Father.”

They heard Crag shouting at them from below, “Nukore!” the dark one looked back, “Rithlana!” the fair one looked back. “It is time for bed!”

The sisters looked at each other with soaking eyes and they hissed to each other, “Father told us to wait here.” If they stayed, he might return to them.

Crag shouted once more before they relented and stood, staring hatefully at the sun, “Someday… we’ll kill you too.” As the Serpent Maidens descended back to the encampment, the light of the sun shone for the first time in many years on a world free of the Sovereign and the horrors he’d inflicted upon them. Now, they were free.

Even now, his laugh can be heard echoing in the halls of Ahn’Qiraj, where his blood still stains the rocks. And in some ancient, hidden, deep place in the world... an elementium chest beat rhythmically, awaiting its master's return.


IllunoirScribes's picture

::sends flowers to the family laced with explosives and a letter of condolences for their loss::

Good stuff man good stuff. I'll haunt you on Tor someday mehbe....... :| ::works on finances::

Illu'noir Scribe Fun fact #3 - (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ I flip tables. A lot.

[H] Linthara, Faitima, [A] Liviana, Julija [N] Lymia

Apophan's picture


Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"

CredibleSource's picture

...why is it that farewells seem to end up bringing out the best-written pieces I've seen yet? Jebas, Apo. I've got the good-shot chills again.

Apophan's picture

It's the emotion and it's kind of a "oh this is the last thing I'm going to write frsrs... better make it good!"

Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"

Kamazlek's picture


"Der are tings in dis world above us all.. My powah is vast, but da True Gods.. dey are infinite."

Apophan's picture


Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"

Marieana's picture

D: -bawls again- It was wonderfully written Apo. I'll miss rping with you on wow!

Apophan's picture

You'll always have place with us hun! <3 Feel free to stay active on TFO's site!

Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"

Lacryma's picture

Your characters and presences all are going to be missed. :(


All said, the Forgotten were easily the best ongoing RP Storyline I've ever seen in WoW.  I was glad to be able to share in the RPs over the years with you, and I am sad to see it end.  I'm sure I'll see you guys around on ToR though, so take care wherever each your pathes go!

Apophan's picture

All things end, in time. But it ended with the best possible people involved. :D

Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"

Voidcrow's picture

Farewell, Apo. Have fun in that galaxy far, far away.

that gave me the goddamn chills.

Sholaad's picture

So awesome Apo. Evil never lasts, does it? Gurthoon knows that best. I wish we could've RPed a bit more together, cult leader to cult leader but cest la vie. I'm glad to see the Epic that was this storyline ended nicely. I'm sure Bonemaw and Gurth will have some words together, especially since we're both so scattered. 



For the Hand! For Argus!

Apophan's picture

The new Sovereign is given his charge and the power. It is his will that must now be obeyed by the remaining Forgotten.


Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"


Rulkan's picture

-Rulkan runs around touching everything up in the old Sovereign's platform.  His childish and eerily feminine cheers are heard for miles-

Apophan's picture

I laughed too hard at that.

Apophan: "Om nom nom your soul om nom nom is nummy"

amaru's picture

Apophan I was only able to rp with you a couple times on zarressa and on jaenadel but those times where awsome. I wish i could have beent here for the end. I am sad I missed it.

Here's to the misfits, rebels, so called outcast.Those that see things differently.You can quote,disagree,glorify or vilify them.The only thing you can't do is ignore them. Some say them crazy, I say genius.Those who usually try to change the world,do.