Through the Twisting Nether

Azrathul tumbled through the Nether blindly, pain wracking his body from the Exarch's strike. It was careless and sloppy, humiliating really, but the spell had saved him from certain execution. Now, he careened uncontrollably through a myriad of colors and clashing energy at breakneck pace, unable to so much as slow or direct his momentum, forced to simply hope that he would still be in one piece upon arrival.

Then almost as quickly as it happened, everything lurched to a stop, the demon's fel-ravaged form striking the ground hard, leaving the proud eredar sprawling in the dirt for the second time in less than five minutes. Groaning in pain and exertion he struggled to rise to his cloven hooves, thankful that he seemed to be alone.

He clutched his chest, the bones already starting to mend and realign, his breathing becoming less labored. It would be some time before he was fully recovered however, and in his weakened state he was vulnerable. Curse that draenei bitch he thought to himself, steadying himself against a large boulder. He swore that someday, he would have his revenge, she would kneel before him, broken and defeated. Someday.

For now, however, he would need to find somewhere to hide. Preferably far from prying eyes. He glanced around, his burning gaze taking in his surroundings. It was an unfamiliar world, certainly not part of the Twisting Nether, there was too much stability, but, had it worked? Had he reached Azeroth?