Illidan (World of Warcraft) vs Raes t(MBotF)

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Redzkz

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Feats for Raest:

After he was freed from thousands years of imprisonment and while he still lacked the source of his power (he never got it back during all of his battles), this is the first thing he did as a way to say hello to the world:

Raest drove his senses down into the ground, seeking what dwelt there. Earth and bedrock, the sluggish molten darkness beneath, down, down to find the sleeping goddess-young as far as the Jaghut Tyrant was concerned. "Shall I wake you?" he whispered. "Not yet. But I shall make you bleed." His right hand closed into a fist.

He speared the goddess with pain, driving a fissure through the bedrock, feeling the gush of her blood, enough to make her stir but not awaken.

The line of hills to the north lifted skyward. Magma sprayed into the air amid a rising pillar of smoke, rock, and ash. The earth shuddered even as the sound of the eruption swept over Raest in a fierce, hot wind. The Jaghut Tyrant smiled.

Right after this he was attacked by five ancient dragons:

Raest spread his arms wide and unleashed his warren. His flesh split as power flowed into him. His arms shed skin like ash. He both felt and heard hills crack all around him, the snapping of stone, the sundering of crags. To all sides the horizons blurred as dust curtained skyward. He faced south. "This is my power! Come to me!"

A long minute passed. He frowned at the hills before him, then cried out and whirled to his right just as Silanah and the four black dragons, all less than ten feet above the ground, plunged over the summit of the hill he'd been climbing.

Raest screamed at the whirlwind of power battering him, his shrunken eyes locked on Silanah's blank, empty, deadly gaze-eyes as large as the Jaghut's head-as it bore down upon him with the speed of a springing viper. The red dragon's jaws opened wide and Raest found himself staring down the beast's throat.

He screamed a second time and released his power all at once.

The air detonated as the warrens collided. Jagged shards of rock ripped in all directions. Starvald Demelain and Kurald Galain warred with Omtose Phellack in a savage maelstrom of will. Grasses, earth, and rock withered to fine ash on all sides, and within the vortex stood Raest, his power roaring from him. Lashes of sorcery from the dragons lanced into his body, boring through his withered flesh.

The Jaghut Tyrant flayed his power like a scythe. Blood spattered the ground, sprayed in gouts. The dragons shrieked.

A wave of incandescent fire struck Raest from the right, solid as a battering fist. Howling, he was thrown through the air, landing in a bank of powdery ash. Silanah's fire raced over him, blackening what was left of his flesh. The Tyrant clambered upright, his body jerking uncontrollably as sorcery gouted from his right hand.

The ground shook as Raest's power hammered Silanah down, driving the dragon skidding and tumbling across the slope. The Tyrant's exultant roar was cut short as talons the length of a forearm crunched into him from behind. A second clawed foot joined the first, snapping through the bones of Raest's chest as if they were twigs. More talons flexed around him as a second dragon sought grip.

The Tyrant twisted helplessly as the claws lifted him into the air and started ripping his body apart. He dislocated his own shoulder in reaching round to dig his fingers into a sleek scaled shin. At the contact, Omtose Phellack surged into the dragon's leg, shattering bone, boiling blood. Raest laughed as the claws spasmed loose and he was flung away. More bones snapped as he struck the ground, but it did not matter.

His power was absolute, the vessel that carried it had little relevance. If need be, the Tyrant would find other bodies. Bodies in the thousands.

He climbed once more to his feet. "Now", he whispered, "I deliver death."

.....

'And now,' he said, through tattered lips, 'she will die.' Raest's flesh had been torn away, ravaged by the virulent power of the dragons, power that burst from their jaws like breath of fire. His brittle, yellowed bones were splintered, crushed and shattered. All that kept him upright and moving was his Omtose Phellack Warren.

Once the Finnest was in his hands, he would make his body anew, filling it with the vigour of health. And he was near his goal. One last ridge of hills and the city's walls would be visible, its fortifications all that stood between Raest and his greater powers.

The battle had laid waste to the hills, incinerating everything in the deadly clash of Warrens. And Raest had driven back the dragons. He'd listened to their cries of pain. Laughing, he'd flung dense clouds of earth and stone skyward to blind them. He ignited the air in the path of their flight. He filled clouds with fire. It was, he felt, good to be alive again.

As he walked, he continued to devastate the land around him. A single jerk of his head had shattered a stone bridge spanning a wide, shallow river. There had been a guardhouse there, and soldiers with iron weapons-odd creatures, taller than Imass, yet he sensed that they could be easily enslaved.

-

After the battle he was trapped in dream realm:

Raest laughed. 'I have walked in the dreams of mortals before. You believe you are the master here, but you are mistaken.' The Tyrant's hand shot out, virulent power erupting from it. The sorcery engulfed Kruppe, blazing darkly, then faded, leaving not even a remnant of the man.

A voice spoke to Raest's left: 'Rude, Kruppe proclaims. Disappointing, this precipitateness.' The Jaghut swung around, eyes narrowing. 'What game is this?' The man smiled. 'Why, Kruppe's game, of course.' A sound behind Raest alerted him, but too late. He spun—even as a massive flint sword crunched through his left shoulder, tearing a path that snapped ribs,sliced through sternum and spine. The blow dragged the Tyrant down and to one side. Raest sprawled, pieces of his body striking the ground around him. He stared up at the T'lan Imass.

Kruppe's shadow moved over Raest's face and the Tyrant met the mortal man's watery eyes. 'He is Clanless, of course. Unbound and beyond binding, yet the ancient call commands him still—to his dismay. Imagine his surprise at being found out. Onos T'oolan, Sword of the First Empire, is once more called upon by the blood that once warmed his limbs, his heart, his life of so very long ago.'

The T'lan Imass spoke. 'You have strange dreams, mortal.'

'Kruppe possesses many surprises, even unto himself.'

'I sense,' Onos T'oolan continued, 'a Bone Caster's hand in this summoning.'

'Indeed. Pran Chole of Kig Aven's clan of the Kron T'lan Imass, I believe he called himself.'

Raest raised himself from the ground, drawing his sorcery around his body to hold its shattered parts in place. 'No T'lan Imass can withstand me,' he hissed. 'A dubious claim,' Kruppe said. 'Even so, he is joined in this endeavour.'

The Jaghut Tyrant straightened to see a tall, black-shrouded figure emerge from the stream bed. He cocked his head as the apparition approached. 'You remind me of Hood. Is the Death Wanderer still alive?' He scowled. 'But, no. I sense nothing from you. You do not exist.'

'Perhaps,' the figure replied, in a deep, soft tone that hinted of regret. 'If so,' he continued, 'then neither do you. We are both of the past, Jaghut.' The figure halted fifteen feet away from Raest and swung hooded head in the dragon's direction.

'Her master awaits your arrival, Jaghut, but he waits in vain and for this you should thank us. He would deliver a kind of death from which there is no escape, even by such a creature as you.' The head turned, and the darkness within the hood once again regarded the Tyrant. 'Here, within a mortal's dream, we bring an end to your existence.'

Raest grunted. 'In this age there are none who can defeat me.'

The figure laughed, a low rumble. 'You are a fool, Raest. In this age even a mortal can kill you. The tide of enslavement has reversed itself. It is now we gods who are the slaves, and the mortals our masters—though they know it not.'

'You are a god, then?' Raest's scowl deepened. 'You are a child to me if so.'

'I was once a god,' the figure replied. 'Worshipped as K'rul, and my aspect was the Obelisk. I am the Maker of Paths—do you find significance in that ancient title?'

Raest took a step back, raising his desiccated hands. 'Impossible,' he breathed. 'You passed into the Realms of Chaos—returned to the place of your birth—you are among us no more—'

'As I said, things have changed,' K'rul said quietly. 'You have a choice, Raest. Onos T'oolan can destroy you. You have no understanding of what his title of Sword signifies—he is without equal in this world. You can fall ignobly beneath the blade of an Imass, or you can accompany me—for in one thing we are the same, you and I. Our time has passed, and the Gates of Chaos await us. What choice do you make?'

'I make neither, Eldering One.' With a soft, hollow laugh, Raest's battered, withered body collapsed.

K'rul cocked his head. 'He's found another body.'

-

Usual Jaghuts is capable to this (Raest is the Jaghut Tyrant, and the third strongest from his race):

Jaghut were very different in another way-they did not flaunt their power. And many of their efforts in self-defense were...passive. Barriers of ice-glaciers-they swallowed the lands around them, even the seas, swallowed whole continents, making them impassable

....

One of the undead hunters about standard Jaghut Tyrant (he didn't know it was Raest who was sealed):

Adjunct. What we seek to accomplish is the freeing of a Jaghut Tyrant. Such a being, should it escape our control, or defy our predictions, is capable of destroying this continent. It can enslave all living upon it, and it would do so if permitted. If, instead of me, Logros had selected a Bone Caster; and if the Tyrant was freed, that Bone Caster would become enslaved. A Jaghut Tyrant is dangerous alone. A Jaghut Tyrant with an Imass Bone Caster at its side is unstoppable. They would challenge the gods, and they would kill most of them.

-

And a little about Raest in his prime:

At first he sought to subjugate other Jaghut, but more often than not they either escaped him or he was forced to kill them. Such contests held only momentary satisfaction. Raest gathered beasts around him, bending nature to his will. But nature withered and died in bondage, and so found an escape he could not control. In his anger he laid waste to the land, driving into extinction countless species. The earth resisted him, and its power was immense. Yet it was directionless and could not overwhelm Raest in its ageless tide. His was a focused power, precise in its destruction and pervasive in its effect.

Then into his path came the first of the Imass, creatures who struggled against his will, defying slavery and yet living on. Creatures of boundless, pitiful hope. For Raest, he had found in them the glory of domination, for with each Imass that broke he took another. Their link with nature was minimal, for the Imass themselves played the game of tyranny over their lands. They could not defeat him.

He fashioned an empire of sorts, bereft of cities yet plagued with the endless dramas of society, its pathetic victories and inevitable failure. The community of enslaved Imass thrived in this quagmire of pettiness. They even managed to convince themselves that they possessed freedom, a will of their own that could shape destiny. They elected champions. They tore down their champions once failure draped its shroud over them. They ran in endless circles and called it growth, emergence, knowledge. While over them all, a presence invisible to their eyes, Raest flexed his will. His greatest joy came when his slaves proclaimed him god—though they knew him not—and constructed temples to serve him and organized priesthoods whose activities mimicked Raest's tyranny with such cosmic irony that the Jaghut could only shake his head.

It should have been an empire to last for millennia, and its day of dying should have been by his own hand, when he at last tired of it. Raest had never imagined that other Jaghut would find his activities abhorrent, that they would risk themselves and their own power on behalf of these short-lived, small-minded Imass. Yet what astonished Raest more than anything else was that when the Jaghut came they came in numbers, in community. A community whose sole purpose of existence was to destroy his empire, to imprison him.

He had been unprepared.

-

Who will win?

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