The new crusade

I stand before the Dark Portal.  Hot wind is blowing sand across the Blasted Lands, scouring my armor.  I look at the monument before me with spear in hand, fresh demon’s blood dripping from it’s blade.

“Tremble foul demons for I come. 

I am standing before the threshold of your world.

I curse you for coming to this land.  This is MY world.  I command you to leave.

So now I take the war to you.

I have no loyalties to anybody, save the Dark Queen herself.

Tremble foul demons for I will crush your skulls to ash beneath my boots.

I, Pithius stand before you!

Tremble.”

 

 

Moving on

Silvermoon City is amazing.  The alabaster spires are a testament to wealth and decadence.  Some look down on these people for flaunting their wealth, but I do not.  Blood Elves use their power to get what they want.  It’s something I respect.  After all, what good is there in having power if you never use it? 

Blood Elves had not been fully accepted into the Horde yet, so in the spirit of cooperation I was among a select few sent by the dark lady to aid the Horde’s efforts in the Ghostlands.  It is clear that the guards still aren’t used to seeing Forsaken wander through their city.  I get a kick out of scurrying past the them and then seeing that look of shock in their eyes when they first notice me.  I know I’ve got them when their hands reflexively go to their swords thinking I am mindless scourge wandering into their midst.  Today was especially humorous.  Two guards were lazily chatting to themselves oblivious to the world around them.  I walked right up behind one and in my my best mindless zombie voice moaned “Brrrrraaaaaaiiiiiis!”  The look on their faces was priceless.  Both startled, the first guard looked over his friend’s shoulder.  Panic made his eyes nearly pop out of his skull and he stumbled backwards, falling indignantly on his backside. His friend, who had his back turned to me, spun around on his heals while drawing and swinging his sword in a single motion.  Every head in the forum turned and looked at us when the loud “klang” of my sword parrying his pierced the quiet afternoon air.  As the echo faded he looked at me, then looked at our swords still locked against each other. Ironic.. the first time I draw my new weapon it’s to deflect a blow from the very people who gave it to me in the first place.  “Feeling a bit jumpy today?” I say, laughing at the guard “Stand down soldier” His face flushed red with embarrassment and all he could say above the laughter of those around us was “Move along… um…  citizen?”

I’m used to the staring, especially from the children.  Few enough have even seen an undead in their city before, but when I proudly paraded through the center of Silvermoon with a Tranquilllien Champion’s cloak and bearing a Sin’Dorei Warblade…  Even the adults stared at me with shameless amazement.  I walked straight to Sunfury Spire and stood before the Regent Lord.  His eyes had registered my presence when I entered the room but he paid me no attention and continued his conversations with the various aids flocked around him.   They all tried to ignore me and continue about their business but as one aid was talking the others would be throwing glances over their shoulders at me.  Several minutes later during a lull in the chatter I loudly cleared my throat.  Theron looked at me disdainfully while his aides merely looked on with curiosity.  I was just barely able to say “My Lord…” before he cut me off “What business do you have here Forsaken?”  Clutching Dar’Khan’s severed head I sheepishly raise it high enough for everybody to see.  Theron’s look of disdain instantly dissolved into a wicked smile. ”Now that’s one face I was not expecting to see so soon.”  Taking the head from me he juggled it playfully in the air before tossing it to one of his officers.  “This is quite the good news, in more ways than you can imagine.  Now here, take this dispatch to your queen”

Sylvanas was obviously pleased at the news I presented her.  This was exactly why the dark lady had sent assistance to the Blood Elves in the first place.  She gave me yet another dispatch to deliver to Thrall.  This one endorsed the Blood Elve’s full membership into the ranks of the Horde.  I should have been on my way, but instead I paused.  “Is there something more?” Sylvanas asked.  “Yes my Lady.” I said submissively, “While carrying out my mission over there I came across this,” and I handed her an old necklace.  She looked closely at the inscription and her face actually softened.  In just barely a whisper she said “It can’t be! After all this time I thought it was lost forever.”  I have never seen, or even heard rumors for that matter of Sylvanas ever being anything other than the cold powerful Banshee she is.  However, for just that brief moment she almost seemed… alive, and mournfully sad.  Lost in her memories.  The moment quickly passed.  Composing herself anger flashed through her eyes as her gaze bore down on me. “You thought this would amuse me?  Do you think I long for a time before I was the queen of the Forsaken? Like you, it means nothing to me!”  Her hand opened and the necklace spilled onto the ground.  Actually that was exactly what I had expected.  I know I have felt that from time to time, though I would never admit such a foolish sentiment to anybody else. Clearly it had hit dangerously close to the mark.  Her lips were quivering slightly but nobody farther than myself could see that.  She did manage to say in her usual cold, composed tone,”You may remove yourself from my presence, warrior”  With a salute I turned to start my journey to Orgrimar, but before I made it a few steps Sylvanas collapsed to her knees.  Gently picking up the necklace she stood, but was completely entranced in the past.  Then to everybody’s amazement my Lady sang the most hauntingly beautiful verse I had ever heard.  Harmony so perfect that it even resonated with the afterlife. Long dead spirits from her past appeared behind her and accompanied her in song.  I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t look away.  I was completely enraptured.  She had struck a chord with something deep within my soul.  As she sang visions from my life swam before my eyes, but the images would never come into focus.  They were more feeling or thought than tangible memory.  It was so incredibly frustrating because I felt closer than ever to discovering the truth of my own life at that moment… but I just couldn’t grasp it before her song ended.  When she was done nobody dared say a word.  Even now I haven’t even caught the slightest wisp of a rumor concerning the events in her chambers this afternoon. 

That meeting marked the end of my tenure in the Ghostlands.  Time now to visit Thrall and then to venture forth to the rest of the world.  Many new lands lie before me to explore.

A good blade

 ”It will be done Magister” I rasp, taking the sword presented to me.  Four voices repeat the same pharse as they are each presented with their equipment specifically issued for this mission.  Swords for myself and a warlock, orbs for the priest and two mages.  I take a practice swing to feel it’s weight and let the blade spin about the palm of my hand.  It is a sturdy weapon, highly functional and I notice faint wisps of energy collecting at the edges.  These weapons are infused with arcane power that should give us an advantage for this, my most difficult mission to date.  Exchanging glances with the others I exit the temple, “Let’s go”

We move with purpose through the forest but the land is surreal.  Everything around us is cast in a shade of amber and there is an absolute dead calm.  No leaves rustling in the trees, not even the slightest hint of movement.  My companions notice the change in atmosphere and come to a stop.  I wave my hand in front of me and draw my fingertips together, trying to touch the stillness.   “Appropriate” I think to myself, “the calm before the storm.  It will be a big one and it’s almost upon us”  Thick black clouds rolling in from the horizon bristling with electric energy confirm my speculation.  The forest however, is far from silent.  In the stillness we are overcome with the sound of clicking.  Soft at first until my mind registers it, then it envelops us.  Imagine the echo of a single pin being dropped on a table, then another, and another until all around you ten thousand pins are falling.  It is the sound of the undead that wander the scar to Silvermoon.  Their bones grinding together as they walk, the dull clicks of bone against the metal of their armor and the rocks they walk on.  We are close.  I listen to the metal sliding along the scabbards as I ready my pair of swords.  I can hear rustling as the others in my party prepare themselves for battle.  We continue, building speed as we get closer to the enemy, my comrades stealthily on my heals.  The treeline breaks and the tainted scar lies before us teaming with my scourge cousins.  I charge the nearest skeleton, my swords deliver it from it’s cursed existence and I move on to the next one.  I can sense waves of heat and cold as bolts of magical destruction streak past my head and connect with their targets.  This is the most direct route to Deatholme and should provide us with a nice workout.  Two more miles straight up the scar and we’ll be right at the city gates.

BOOM!! The thunder is so loud we can feel it’s concussion reverberating in our lungs.  Rain falling in sheets makes seeing anything beyond ten feet nearly impossible. For an instant a tower appears before of us, brilliantly illuminated by a bolt of lighting and just as quickly it fades into nothingness.  This tower is the headquarters for Dar’Kahn Drathir, the powerful leader of the scourge forces still trying to finish off Silvermoon City.  Getting here was the easy part.  Now it is time to take things seriously.  I swap one of my swords for the added protection of a shield and we head down the dark steps to the chambers below.  Hall by hall, room by room we clear the building of its guards. 

Standing at the top of the last stairwell I can see Drathir, surrounded by six of his most loyal champions.  Silently communicating orders with hand signals I point to the youngest in our group who nods in understanding.  Without fear he nonchalantly walks halfway down the stairs and loudly clears his throat “Pardon me but I’m looking for the wine cellar… Ooops! Sorry” and runs full speed back up the stairs.  “KILL HIM!” The six champions all charge, only to be frozen in place as soon as they enter the hallway, falling quickly to a flurry of blades and magic.  Realizing his mistake Drathir looks at me hatefully, following my progress down the stairs.  He sneers, “You realize that even you and your gang of schoolchildren can’t possibly defeat me”  Fanning around the room the group positions themselves.  This scourge is a full head taller than me.  Now standing only about three feet away from him, I have to look up at to maintain eye contact.  “We shall see” I say, slapping my shield with the blade of my sword, “Let’s play!” 

My opening attack is met with the “Klang” of metal on metal as he parries with his staff and counterattacks.  A loud crack on my shield saves me from one strike but he reverses and lands a crushing blow to my midsection, audibly snapping two of my ribs.  Then he holds out his hand causing incoming shadowbolts and fireballs to disintegrate at his  fingertips as he resists their magical energies, but one frostbolt gets through.  Now chilled, he can’t react as quickly and the other spells start to find their mark.  All the while i’m engaging him in hand to hand combat thrusting and parrying, I’m amazed at how skillfully he defends against five attackers at once.  Then I can feel my broken ribs fusing together and the pain is suddenly gone.  Dar’Khan senses the renewed strength in my attacks and directs his attention to the young priest who had just healed me.  His eyes roll to the back of his head and he is softly chanting some ancient spell.  Hands glowing as he focuses mana into something far more deadly.  “I don’t think so” I say as I smash him in the face with my shield.  This brings him out of his trance right as my sword bites in to the side of his arm.  Infuriated, the scourge lord spins in a full circle adding momentum to his swing as he pours all his strength into the blow.  Fortunately I see it coming and have my shield raised and ready to take the impact but when it hits I feel like i’ve been punched by an anvil.  He smashes into my shield with enough force to lift me off my feet and I land with a thump on the other side of the room.  “You insolent FOOL! You won’t have a chance to try that again” he sneers, raising his arms above his head, his hands glow again gathering and focusing mana.  Understanding that the deathbolt he is summoning will be directed at me I raise my sword and unleash the energy stored within it.  A bright purple ribbon of energy springs from my blade and strikes him through his chest.  “NOW!” I yell and my party responds, four more blasts of energy converge.  “NOOOO!!” he yells.  The arcs of magic still sapping his strength make him look almost like a spider who’s legs are made of purple lightning.  Greatly weakened, he falls to his knees.  I act immediately, dropping my shield I bring both hands to my sword and swing, catching him perfectly across the neck.  His body slumps to the floor and his head rolls harmlessly to the feet of the warlock who shrieks “EWWWW!  You take it!” and kicks it to me… 

“Excellent work, all of you” The magister compliments us with genuine warmth in his eyes.  “You’ve done it!  Now please everyone step forward and claim your reward.  You have all earned it for your service to the king”  He opens the cover of a sealed armory locker and shows us several different weapons of extraordinary quality.  “I’ll take that one” I say pointing to a beautifully ornate two handed sword.  Far more elaborate than any other blade that I’ve seen, the metal is forged with streaks of orange and crimson in a pattern that gives it the appearance of fire streaked with blood.  “I expected you would enjoy this one.  Sin’dorei Warblades are a favorite amongst warriors.   It is rare for one of your kind to be awarded such a luxury, so carry it with pride”  To my surprise I do swell pride as he hands it to me.  ”What is this?” I think to myself, uneasy at this sudden burst of emotion.  I so rarely have them any more because emotions are nonsense for the living.   Yet I can’t help but flash back to my awakening recalling that pitted out piece of rust that was my first weapon.  Now I hold the finest sword I’ve ever owned.  Much lighter than I expected, the mirrored edge of the blade almost sings as it slices through the air.  “Pithius! You’ve helped cement the bond between my race and yours.  Now take the traitor’s head to the Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron in Silvermoon City.  He’ll be eager to hear the news”  “Yes Magistrate, it will be done” I reply, saluting him.  He returns the salute and I start the walk back to Silvermoon City, smiling with confidence as I walk down the road conscious of the weight of the fine new blade sheathed on my back. 

Dealing with spies

The full moon floods the landscape with it’s pale glow.  A ship anchored on the opposite shore can be seen intermittently though the tall trees of the island.  Sounds of wood popping occasionally from the campfires and an ever present beating of waves along the shoreline give the little camp an atmosphere of laziness.  Night elves are here.  The tapestry of shadows being cast by the trees is perfect for them to just blend into the nothingness of the night, but they are not expecting anything at this late hour.  Three men are gathered around a campfire silently warming themselves.  One of them stands up and stretches, then perks his ears as he catches a glimpse of something that seems out of place.  The light of the campfire makes seeing into the darkness difficult, but… yes.  There at the shore there is something… a light, like someone lighting a torch.  It’s illuminating the land around it and approaching very very quickly.  His comrade to the right sees it too and is standing, weapon drawn ready for action, but is knocked off his feet as the fireball catches him square in the chest.  Then the first one notices a hollow echoing moan growing louder and out of the corner of his eye he sees the guard to his left struck by a shadowbolt. The impact detaches the night elf’s soul from his body which crumples to the ground and an instant later the guard’s non-corporal essence vanishes to the great beyond.  The remaining guard opens his mouth to raise an alarm but the only sound is waves crashing along the shore.  He can’t get a breath past the blade now impaling his throat.   He rolls his eyes down and catches a glimpse of the second sword buried deep in his chest.  Vision fades and as darkness consumes him he realizes that it has gone clean through his heart.  Three guards dead.  The whole exchange having occurred in just over a second.

I withdraw the swords from my victim allowing his body to slump to the ground.  At the bottom of one of the nearby tents I pick up a document.  This is our objective, to infiltrate the camp and steal as much intelligence as we can get our hands on.  Two blood elves emerge from the shadows.  The first is a woman, her imp bounding energetically at her heals before blinking out of phase and the man beside her is a mage.  The three of us move silently through the camp, killing the rangers in their sleep and then rifling through their belongings looking for more documentation.  The camp now empty, we regroup and turn our attention toward the anchored ship.  The warlock halts, apparently startled by something in the shadows.  That’s when I notice the lone sentry still standing between us and the boat.  Sensing the wave of adrenaline pumping through it’s startled master the Imp gleefully shouts what sounds like “Whaaaka waka teenga waka” and shoots a firebolt at the sentry.  The shot merely injures it’s target who lets out a painful cry finally alerting everybody left alive to our presence.  Deckhands on the ship snap to attention and the captain scrambles, gathering up books and documents on a table before her and flees to her cabin.   Within just a couple of minutes all that lies before us are bodies and the locked door of the captain’s quarters.  “Out of my way” I grumble, stowing my swords and pulling out a large battleaxe.  Solid Thwacks echo across the water as my blade bites into the door over and over till it eventually gives way. 

 The captain stares at us defiantly from her chair.  I have the tip of my sword resting against her throat while the other two ransack the room.  “Where is it?” Screams the warlock, backhanding the captain.   She is greeted with nothing but defiant silence.  “Calm down” interjects the mage.  “You’ve got to be subtle with someone like this.  Let me show you.” while gently pushing my blade safely away from the prisoner’s throat.  “After all, she’s not going to cooperate if she thinks she won’t live to see the sunrise.”  The man grabs a chair and sits right in front of the night elf and then proceeds to speak to her in her own language.  Looking on with almost a clinical fascination, the warlock translates for me. 

The captain before us is a fairly young night elf woman.  Surprising to see someone as young as her in such a position of power, though she definitely has an aura of strength about her.  Pale blue skin she, is a decently attractive woman.  Not nearly the seductresses her blood elf counterparts tend to be, but there is a more earthy quality to her looks.  The mage peers into the captains’s eyes and with the back of his fingers gently caresses that spot on her cheek where she had just been hit.  “Beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.  You see we came here for something” Now running the palm of his hand down her shoulder and gently gliding it along the skin of her arm.  ”If you give us what we want I just might be tempted to take you for my own.”  With that he raises her hand to his cheek.  To my surprise she actually strokes his jaw with her fingertips.  This is actually working I think, laughing inwardly to myself.  Perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised, it’s just that I so quickly forget how much the living love to play at seduction.  In spite of his pompous arrogance he is right.  Women do consider him to be almost as good looking as he considers himself.  Now he’s speaking as he gently runs kisses down the length of her arm.  “Your scent is delicious”  kiss.. kiss “Show me where you’ve hidden those documents and you’ll live.  I’ll take you back to be a slave in my household.”  Now he is kissing the palm of her hand.  He takes her finger into his mouth and then slowly withdraws it.  “I could feast on this beauty and you could live well in my home”   The captain finally speaks “I’ve seen your women.  How is it that you find such beauty in me?”  “Because” Says the mage, tracing her forehead with his fingertips, pushing aside some stray hairs blocking her eyes, “I have never looked into the eyes of another woman and seen such a perfect reflection of myself as I see when I look into your eyes”  The warlock burst into high-pitched laughter.   A dejected look on her face and a flash of anger in her eyes, the captain slaps the mage across the face.

“That fool!” I thought to myself.  The mage throws up his hands and addresses the warlock “Obviously she doesn’t like men.  Perhaps you should sit here and give it a try”  That’s when I say  ”No.  I’ve been watching you and I’d like to give it a try.  Domina, I’ll need you to translate when I speak”  “Oh, this I’ve GOT to see” says the mage, giving up his seat so I can sit down in front of the captain.  Then I proceed to mimic every action the mage had just made.  I caress her cheek the same way, run my fingers along the skin of her arm the same way.  All this with complete disgust and revulsion on her face.  “So what do you want me to tell her?”  “Nothing yet, I’d rather just let my actions speak for the moment”  Now I’m kissing her arm in the very same way the mage had just demonstrated. The Warlock makes  a personal comment to the captain ”It seems our friend here has taken quite a liking to you”  and then tightens her face and shudders.  Now I’m kissing her palm, taking her finger into my mouth just like the mage did. Then with a sickening crunch I bite through the bone and sever her finger.  The captain screams and tries to slow the blood as I toy with the flesh in my mouth.  I beckon the warlock over and whisper into her ear.  A thin wicked grin of understanding comes across her face but the captain is still howling in pain and shock.  The warlocks eyes flash red and a wave of energy radiates from here, silencing the prisoner still panicked about her wound. 

 ”My friend says he won’t make you any false promises like my counterpart here just did” With that the captain looks toward the mage who just shrugs his shoulders and raises his eybrows in a manner that suggests he’s saying “It’s true”  “My friend does make these promises: first of all, you will not live to see the sunrise. He asks where have you hidden the documents and promises you a quick death and proper funeral rights in exchange for your cooperation.  It seems he really does think you are beautiful.  Will you show us where they are, or will you let our friend here “feast” on your beauty?”  To add emphasis to that point I loudly crunch through the rest of the bones of her severed finger, and looking captain in the eye I swallow with an audible gulp.  With that thought the captain breaks.  Bowing her head in submission her hands start to glow and touches the wall beside her.  A previously invisible panel slides back revealing the hiding place of all the documents we were looking for.

 With begrudging help from the other two we gather the bodies of all those we had slain that evening and stack them on the deck of the boat.  I put the captain at the top of the pile.  Fashioning a circlet of mageroyal and peacebloom my brethren look at me oddly as I set on her head.  Silently we slip off into the night with the bright glow of a burning ship lighting our path.

What’s up with our newest “allies”?

These blood elves are a very strange race.  The dark lady has voiced objections to finalizing their acceptance into the Horde, and I am starting to see why.  For one thing, their addiction to magic gives each of them an insatiable hunger for more.  Utterly self-centered, no well of power or wealth seems to be deep enough for them.  The women are aware of their natural beauty and I admire the skill in which they use that as a weapon against both their friends and their enemies alike.  It’s so amusing to see how the living let themselves be manipulated, often to their own deaths.  Never ever trust one, they are deadly as they are beautiful but are fierce allies to have fighting by your side.  Just don’t step in front of them when they are about to pop off a firebolt.  They won’t stop just because you happen to be in the way.  The only living beings which seem to not be affected by their charms are the blood elf males.  So obsessed with their own looks there is barely a thought for the world around them.  They prance and they pout but woe to the enemy that makes one of these men chip a nail.  That’s when the really unleash their power. 

What of honor?

I try to spend my nights at taverns,  troop encampments, or even just wandering the alleyways. Anywhere where I can hear stories and rumors.  I’m hoping to catch wind of any organized raids into allied territory.  I buy rounds of drinks and talk about how somebody, perhaps us, should take some kind of action against Stormwind.  I always get “Here here!! We should do that!” and countless toasts raised to my name honoring my ambition.   However, in the end it is nothing but talk.  Drunken bragging with no follow-through.  Perhaps one day, if I can ever make a name for myself I might be able to gather my own band of followers and take action myself.  I’ve tried once, but alone I realize I’m not yet powerful enough to doing anything meaningful. 

My adventures continue in the Ghostlands.   Viscous creatures abound there and my skills are becoming more useful to others as well.  Last night a Blood Elf was asking “Anybody out there who can help out a couple of girls?” while looking directly at me.  Of course I didn’t hesitate in offering my services.   At first it seemed that they didn’t need me at all.  The older of the two was a blood knight slightly more skilled than myself and perfectly capable of escorting the younger one around.   She laughed and tossed her hair saying to her partner ”There you go hun, I’ve got business elsewhere.”  With that she took off down the road, dumping her younger counterpart to may care.   Not that I really minded in the least.  It’s good to be needed.  To be able to utilize my skills to the benefit of someone other than myself.  She was a mage, barely 11 obviously fascinated with the world around her, eager to put her magical prowess to work.   She looked at me curiously, but with some nervousness at my appearance. (I don’t think she had ever seen an undead before) Then with an air of superiority she said “you’ll do, this way” and proceeded fearlessly out of town to the ruins I was to help her clear of cryptstalkers.  Vile things cryptstalkers are.  Picture if you will a centaur.  But instead flea-bitten flanks of a horse topped by a human it’s all spider, with arms and mandibles and sets of glowing eyes and the whole thing is easily 3 times your size or more.  The good news that as even big as they are, my axe makes short work of them.

We spent the evening together, all business of course.  She rambled on incessantly about fire and ice and how she loved controlling magic.  I talked about how such things were beyond me but that I held faith in edged steel.  I dare say that I did my best to show off in front of her.  To show her the expertise in my form and discipline and how it was something of an art, worthy of admiration.  At first she rolled her eyes at my antics but eventually she just giggled as I would go through some kind of completely unnecessary acrobatics when dispatching yet another hostile creature.  I escorted her through her tasks and she followed me, at a decent enough distance as I finished one of my missions.  Our tasks complete we returned to the outpost Tranquillin. 

I was excited to finish this particular job.  Instead of my normal fee the leader of the garrison had promised me a bow of very good quality as payment, surplus that was just gathering dust in their armory.  While I had trained in how to use a bow, I had up to that point never owned one and was eager to try it out.  My business with the lady was concluded and I offered my further services if she need help in any of her other tasks.  She said that she needed rest for the evening and wanted to get something to eat but that she would enjoy it very much if I’d help her out the next day.   So she bounded off north of town to shoot fireballs at the bats.  She said that if she did it right she could kill the bat and cook it in a single shot.

I had just purchased a cluster of arrows and was admiring my new bow when cries of “To Arms!” and “Don’t let him escape!”  drew my attention to the road south of the garrison.   A human paladin on a truly magnificent stallion (must be one of those epic beasts I’ve heard so much about from the blood knights) came riding through the middle of town.  Guards swung at him as he passed but he was simply going too fast.  I notched an arrow and drew my bow, taking aim and tracking him as he blew past me and the goods vendors.  Of course being the first time I had ever fired a bow my shot went wide and embedded itself with a loud THWACK into a wagon merely a foot away from the head of the trade goods vendor.   Undead herself she just looked at me and rolled her eyes and said “Ooh.. my hero.  Nice shot nimrod!” 

Panicked cries of “Get down!” and “Look out!” drew my attention back to the road leading north out of town.  My lady was standing in the middle of the path, her hands glowing red with flame stalking the bat that was to be her dinner.  I, the guards and the officers were in pursuit and desperately yelling at her.  She looked up only when the paladin let out a great laugh but by then it was too late.  He had a giant two-handed sword which he pulled from his back and swung in a single fluid motion.  The blade caught her diagonally from the shoulder to the center of her chest and all the way to her abdomen she was cleaved in two.  Without missing a step, without slowing down the paladin returned his sword and cried out a joyous “YES!” and continued his ride to who knows where. 

 She was lying with one half of her on either side of the road.   I felt an extreme sorrow.  I had no romantic feelings toward her, but I had grown to enjoy her company.  I enjoyed the feeling of what it was to protect somebody, and now I had failed her.   It struck me that I didn’t even know her name.  I don’t know why we hadn’t introduced ourselves properly, that piece of information had seemed so irrelevant at the time.  Now, however, absence of that knowledge left me feeling empty.  I picked up the pieces of her body and held them together taking them back to town, but there was nothing the healers could do.  She was too far gone for even the priests.  Given that around here the dead tend to come back to a cursed existence we built a pyre for her in the middle of town.  I reached into my bags and fashioned a circlet made of peacebloom and mageroyal for her to wear.  I still had that torch with me since I haven’t visited the catacombs yet.  After placing the crown on her head I stood back and used the torch to light her pyre.

I train with more purpose now.  It is one thing to hear the rumors and anectdotes, but quite another to see things happen right before your eyes and to be completely incapable of doing anything about it.   Nobility and the powers of light, BAH!! What honor, what goodness was there in taking this girl’s life? She was no threat to that man, yet he cut her down with no real effort and took joy in doing so.  Where does that hate come from?  I see now why the humans really are our enemies.  They and all the alliance must be stopped.

Premonition or just paranoia?

My dreams disturb me.  I see a woman with fiery red hair and haunting green eyes looking at me deeply with a seductive grin.  I don’t know who she is but in my dreams I have the feeling she is a long and trusted friend.  We’re sitting by a campfire exchanging stories and cooking a meal. I see myself drifting off to sleep.  As soon as she’s convinced I’m unconscious she walks to the edge of camp and pulls a box from her saddlebag.  Setting it on the ground next to me she opens the lid, turns away and with the grace and stealth that seems to come naturally to her species she bounds silently into the darkness.  A scorpion emerges from the box.  Jet black with a pair of scarlet stripes traveling down the lengths of its sides, it’s small legs move in a furious blurr as it skitters up my chest.  Sensing the intruder’s presence I see it just in time and close my hand around it.  The barb pierces the center of my palm.  Pain radiates from the sting shortly replaced by throbbing numbness and I am unable to move any of my fingers.  I wake up in the Undercity.  My hand feels swollen and the fingers are paralyzed, but only for a moment.  My mind catches up to reality, it was after all just a dream.  No scorpion, no sting, no betrayal in the night, but the pain…. the pain is real.

This means WAR

I’ve enjoyed my time thus far in the guild but what I really wanted to do was to distinguish myself.  To be noticed.  To bring glory to myself and my new found family.  As a warrior of the 15th rank there is a lot I can do, but to do something truly spectacular was going to take some serious thinking. (not exactly my strong point.. so don’t bother pointing this out)  From time to time this burning desire for vengeance presents itself in the front of my mind, which tends to be very annoying since I have no idea who to direct that vengeance toward.  It just so happened as I was wandering the rings in the Undercity stewing over my untargeted desire for vengeance that I overheard one of the apothecaries talking to another adventurer about some ingredients he needed for yet another doomsday poison to use against the humans.  They’ve been it at for years and so far all they’ve managed to do is to permanently dye all the water in the Undercity that slimy green-ooze color.  That got me to think.. hmm…. If I’ve got to be angry at somebody why not be angry at the Humans.. After all they are one of the dark queen’s biggest foes.  Then it hit me!  The humans… I would travel to Stormwind and gather information.  I would infiltrate the city and try to find a weakness might be exploited by our generals. 

 Finally I had purpose!  A vision, a goal to strive towards which if successful would bring glory to me and my family.  Stormwind is deep in the heart of alliance territory and there is a lot of VERY dangerous ground to cover between here and there.  Fortunately for me there is a treaty in place which says that no member of the opposite faction may be attacked unless they either accept a challenge or act in an openly hostile manner.  This treaty would aid me greatly in my upcoming mission.  I talked to many elders about the best path, and what I could expect to encounter along the way.  I studied maps extensively and plotted my course.  Finally armed with potions, bandages, ale, and a youthful mind filled with visions of glory I boarded the Zeppelin for a new destination.  Grom Gol camp deep in the heart of deadly Strnglethorn Vale

Rain was falling as the zeppelin pulled up to the platform and I stepped off to take in the sights of an entirely new world.  Lush and green and completely deadly.  It might have just been fear playing tricks on my mind, but I could have sworn that the trees really looked like giant goblin heads staring at my every move.  Crocs and Raptors roamed around the camp.  I didn’t know how I was even going to make it to the road.  Luckily for me another group, far more experienced than I, was getting ready to leave the camp for a hunt.  I said that I was on a top secret mission of vital importance to the Horde.  Chuckling at me a good natured Tauren warrior clearly amused by this upstart and his outlandish tale snorted and said “Sure little one, we can clear a path to the road for you”  True to his word, the party smashed every raptor and tiger that for some reason seemed to think I was the tastiest treat ever to come walking past them.  They lead me as far as a bridge where we parted ways.  We wished each other good luck and good hunting as I turned away from them and started my terror-filled solo run through the gauntlet. 

I imagine that my armor must have looked like it was made out of chocolate dipped in honey wrapped around raw meat.  My word! I have never run harder and faster in my entire afterlife!  Every raptor, cat, wolf, and spider within a mile was on my heals trying to make a meal of me.  “I don’t taste that good guys.. trust me on this!”  Well, they didn’t believe me when I said this and kept on chasing me from Stranglethorn all the way though Duskwood and into Westfall.  Now the treaty doesn’t extend to towns.  Any horde can be killed on sight if they step too close to an Alliance city or encampment.  There was one spot at a crossroads in Duskwood where I know I went too close, but the guards just stood there open mouthed as this undead guy ran past them with his arms flailing wildly over his head yelling “AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!! SHOO!! SHOO!!” while being chased by a dozen animals and insects.  I swore I heard laughing in the background after I had gone out of range of their kill-zone.  Well it was smooth sailing once I made it to Westfall.  Sure there were vultures and bandits and weird scarecrow robot looking things, from there on in it was nothing that my axe and I couldn’t handle. 

I drew stares as I continued down the road to Stormwind.  Mothers hurried their children into their houses and barred their doors.  Many allies just stared at the strange sight of an undead so boldly running in their presence.  Obviously they were intimidated because none dared lay a finger on me even as I walked under the great archway of Stormwind itself.  I must admit to being somewhat impressed with the city when I crossed the bridge leading over the Valley of Heroes. I walked right up to the guards and stood just on the other side of that yellow line.  You see there is a yellow line right where this bridge ends along with a sign showing a Horde crest with a circle around it and a slash going through it.  I didn’t have to speak common to know that the yellow line was the border of their kill-zone.  The guards all shot me amused but uneasy looks as I paced this line, taking in the view before me.  My reconnaissance mission had started I was just taking in the lay of the land, when right there before the Captain of the guard I had one of those moments.. an epiphany.  That surge of adrenaline and that realization that struck me like a bolt of lightning out of the blue.  I saw it there in the face of the castle, the hole that was cut out of the wall where the griffins take off and land.  I could see the huge bails of hay they had for the birds in nests and stacked up aginst the wall.  I had found my weakness!  Even more than that I had found my opportunity for supreme glory!

I had in my posession torch which was supposed to be used to dispose of mummified troll remains in a crypt out in the Ghostlands, but now I saw a higher calling.  I stared the captain of the guard in the face, flexed my muscles at him and roared trying to intimidate him and his guards..  Yet I hadn’t crossed the line so they could do nothing.  I knew it was a longshot but I had to act.  Withdrawing the torch from my pack I rather theatrically lit it in front of them.  Then I looked to that open hole with all the hay for the griffins and took my aim. Boy.. that looks like it’s a long way off.  I reared back reaching with my mind to the very depths of my soul to find every last ounce of strength… Oh yea!! I stopped and fished out the vial of strenght elixir I was carrying.  I drank it down in a single gulp and felt quite invigorated.  Now was the time to act.  Once again I rared back, reached into my soul, and launched the torch with ever single scrap of energy I could possibly muster.  It flew high.. the flame reflecting off the water below.  The guards all following it’s path with their eyes, looking on in disbelief.  It has the aim.. but does it have the distance?  Yes… No… Yes.. Maybe…  Things were moving in slow motion as the torch peaked in the arc of its trajectory and started its decent…..

 YES!! The torch just barely hit the edge of the stone cut out, skittered across the floor and into a pile of straw that instantly burst into an explosion of flame.  Utter chaos ensued.  Screams and pannic could be heard, the bells signaling a fire were ringing throughout the city.  The guards clearly spooked turned to look behind them when the somebody shouted “Don’t just stand there, help us with the fire!”  With the guards distracted and the captain facing the other way I drew my sword and slapped the captain’s mount square on the hindquarters.  It rared up on it’s back legs and stumbling, lost it’s footing and plunged along with his master into the water below.  After a moment, his neck broken, the captain’s body came floating to the surface of the water.  The remaining guards looked at the body, then looked at me.  Thrusting my sword into the air I let out a warcry so loud it echoed across the entire Valley of Heroes and charged.  The guards instantly broke ranks and fled back through the city.  I was right on their heals as they were shouting “RUN!! THAT MONSTER KILLED THE CAPTAIN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!”  Panic has a way of being contagious and as they ran past buildings that panic spread and the guards and civilians alike fled, the chaos and fear just building on itself and getting larger as the mob took on an identity all it’s own with the single minded purpose of fleeing the city for the refuge of Ironforge via the underground tram.  I grabbed another torch and I was heading from building to building setting fire to everything in my wake.  People died left and right either from being caught in the fires or by being trampled by other fleeing citizens.  I reveled in the carnage and continued to set fire to everything I came across all the way up to and including the king’s throne room in the center of the town.  I used a telepathic link to inform the others in my guild of the unbridled success I was having and asked them to send in reinforcements.  One of our officers happened to be in Thralls chambers at the time.  He brought silence to the chamber when he shouted out “YES!! That SOB actually pulled it off”  All eyes were on him as he explained to Thrall what was happening and that I was requesting reinforcements.  Immediately Warchief left his chambers and dispatched a legion of his personal guard to assist. 

I made my way to the stockades and broke the locks of the gates, leaving it wide open for those inside to escape and add to the slaughter of the populace still trying to flee.  Not much left to do actually.  Screaming and destruction all around me.  By this time the entire city was on fire and rapidly burning to the ground.  Thrall himself eventually showed up with his personal guard.  They descended from the sky on their windriders to offer assistance, but by that time the once glorious city was nothing but smoldering ruins.  I was perched on the roof of the SI 7 building, about the only structure left somewhat standing, and I waved to Thrall. “Sorry you missed the show!”  “You?  You did all this?” asked the warchief.  “Yes I did.  FOR THE HORDE!”

My mission for glory was a complete success.  I was now the most famous person in the entire world.  Everybody, both Horde and alliance alike knew my name “Pithius Maximus! The destroyer of Stormwind”  A special day was called where I would be honored for my heroic actions.  Kaustic and Dreadspine.. the 2 highest members in my guild carried me on their shoulders as they lead the procession of tens of thousands from the Undercity to the Zeppelin towers (which had specially commissioned Zeppelins just for members of the guild) and on to Orgrimar where I was to be personally honored and given a special reward by all 4 leaders of the Horde.  Oh and the women!  Even those stuck-up Blood Elf females who wouldn’t give an undead guy like me the time of day were all flocking to my side vying for my attention.  The procession came to a halt before a stage constructed just for this event.  That’s when I saw it.  I couldn’t believe it.  In a dazzling display on the stage was the legendary Sword of a Thousand Truths.  It was to be presented to me as reward for my deeds!  Kaustic and Dreadspine set me down.  Both had their succubus in tow which they commanded to their sides.  Their demons looked at each other, then looked their masters and said together in a way that only twins can “Sorry boss <smack> But we’re with him”  and they came running to my side and one on each arm they led me to the stage.  Kaustic and Dreadspine stared at me open mouthed, I just shrugged my shoulders and mouthed “Sorry”  I’ve never seen so many people in one place in my entire life before.  Several hundred thousand had turned out to see the award ceremony.  I heard a tauren moo above the crowd and I made eye contact with the warrior that had cleared the path to the road for me in Stranglethron.  I raised an arm in triumph and cheered at him.  The leaders of the great Horde factions were on stage with me.  A hush fell over the crowd as Lady Sylvanas rose to speak.  Now complete silence.   Sylvanas opened her mouth and In a loud booming voice said, “SQUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWK!!!!”

That screech instantly snapped me from my daydream as I looked in horror at the sight before me.  A shower of sparks hung in the air where my torch, in it’s downward decent had smashed a griffin square on the beak right as it was taking off with a passenger.  The torch fell harmlessly into the water leaving only a whisp of smoke at the surface where it was extinguished. The griffin screeched loudly as it continued to corkscrew through the air and eventually smacked into a tree at the edge of the forest.  In the water below me was a rather ticked off looking gnome that had obviously fallen off the Griffin squealing some high-pitched gibberish at the guards who were all laughing at what had just transpired.  I had done it now.. I had taken a hostile action.  Light glinted off one of the guard’s blue shields and I cringed expecting a mace to come crashing into my skull, but nothing happened.  The guards were all laughing too much.  The gnome was screaming louder than ever pointing at me, then shouted something to the captain.  The captain stopped his laughing for just a moment, rolled his eyes, and then rode forward, rearing his horse up on it’s hind legs in front of me, knocking me to the ground with it’s hooves. Then the horse proceded to trample me to death dancing some kind of jig with the capain and all his guards roaring with renewed fits of laughter.

Only I didn’t die. I was trampled to within a millimeter of my life, but I held on.  Every bone in my body was broken and I was lying face down in a pool of my own blood.  The laughing grew even louder when the gnome having swam out of the water came to join in the frivolity.  Except the pool I was lying in wasn’t my blood.  It was a mixture of Darkmoon ale and healing potions whose vials were broken during the trampling.  The only part of my body I could move was my tongue so I licked.  With every lap I gained more and more strength until finally I was whole again.  I hopped to my feet and drew my sword and stumbled.. WoW! That Darkmoon ale was strong stuff.  Not only was I healed but I was also completely smashed.  Of course this made the guards laugh even harder.  I was infuriated.  I shouted “HOSH DARE YOUSH!! I am a warri *hic* warrior of the 15th *hic* nosh.. the 16tsh rank. You see my head dinkshed just a little while *hic* ago. 16th rank! You WILL draw your weapon and fhightsh me!”  I stared blurry-eyed at the captain of the guard who proceeded to turn to his horse’s backside towards me saying while pointing over his shoulder “Get a load of this guy”  Ahhhhhhsh *hic.. I thought, here is my chance.  I raised my sword to smack that horse on it’s hindquarters when the captain turned his heals inward slightly and made a klicking sound.   Instantly the horse reared up on it’s front legs and mule-kicked me square in the chest.  Completely stunned I went flying a hundred yards through the air, landing with a huge splash in the water below.  Broken, drunk, barely conscious and sinking I came to rest on the bottm of the moat.  Something was sticking me in the side.  It was the torch I had thrown earlier.  Barely able to move my arms I gingerly closed my hand around the torch while with the other hand I strained to reach and then activate the hearthstone.

 *Poof*  My broken mangled heap of a body rests on the floor by the mailbox in the Undercity.  I laid there on the floor for several minutes.. just feeling the pain. *Poof* *Poof* *Poof* *Poof* *Poof* a 5 man party had just hearted in from their hunt (right on top of me) and a Kodo was now crushing my body under it’s foot.  “Sorry about that little one” says the Tauren from atop his mount.  It was the same warrior that had cleared the path for me in Stranglevale.  “So how’d your mission go?”  I just looked at him and laughed an insane meniacal laugh.  The kind of laugh when you get when you’ve had no sleep for a week and absurdity of the world just seems funny.  A very young, very kind Blood Elf female priest of the 2nd rank came over to my body “I can help you mister” and spent the next 2 hours spam healing me back to my old unbroken self again.

 Before I hated humans because I was supposed to hate them.  Now it is personal.  I vow this day that I will not rest till I have seen Stormwind razed to the ground!  I will find my glory!  But man.. I’ve got a lot of training to do in the meantime.

Destiny crosses my path.

I took my trip to Mulgore to for weapons training when it happened… As I was dropping some items off at the bank in Thunder Bluff somebody was standing next to me wearing a guild crest prominently displaying the name Alea Iacta Est.  I couldn’t believe it, the thoughts from before my awakening came flooding back to my mind.  I tapped the young Blood Elf on his shoulder and when questioned he told me that they were a cohort nearly a thousand strong and that they were openly seeking additions to swell their ranks.  Luckily for me one of their officers was enjoying the Darkmoon fair right there at the base of the city.  I dashed to the elevators so quickly that I nearly ran right over the edge of the platform to what would have been my untimely doom.  After introducing myself I knelt down, swearing an oath of allegiance to the guild and all of it’s bretheren if they would accept a warrior as humble as myself.  To my great joy I was extended an invitation to join and I haven’t looked back since.  Instantly I had a huge family of brothers and sisters to train with, quest with, trade tips with, and just to get smashed with (which we did courtesy of the Darkmoon Ale).  We’ve got all sorts of characters from the most noble to some who are quite self-centered and villainous. (I’m quite glad that they are on my side)  We even have one delusional warlock convinced that Dreadspine (one of the guild leaders) is a god and has been trying to convert us to the “Cult of Dreadspine”  As my training has intensified I have done missions on 2 continents, explored the dungeons under Orgrimar, and have even ventured to the land of the Blood Elves to assist our newest Horde allies.  In no time at all I find myself reaching the 15th rank in the Warrior’s order. 

Everything is new agian

I feel so alive! I would imagine that strikes most of you still living as an odd statement, but this existence isn’t nearly what I expected.  I still breathe.  The sensation of air filling my lungs is wonderful.  However when I draw in a deep breath and hold it there is a barely perceptible but embarrassing whine.  That hiss of air leaking from a small tear in one of my lungs.  It’s really annoying when I go underwater.  A constant stream of bubbles sprouting from my chest following me wherever I swim.  I still eat.  I still drink.  I even sleep when the feeling strikes me, though it seems to be more out of habit than out of necessity. 

Oh and the politics. By the gods how I hate politics.  While there currently is not an active campaign of war between the Horde (of which I find myself a member) and the alliance, there are open hostilities between the citizens of both factions.  Small scale skirmishes are defiantly the norm.  To make matters worse there are several other factions bent on destroying both the Horde and the alliance.  I’ve come to understand that my existence is the result of a virus of some sorts.  Most of those reanimated are mindless slaves to some important sounding litch-king.  Those of us reborn absent of such control have Lady Sylvanias to thank for our freedom.  So naturally we subjugate ourselves to serving her ends.  The Horde hates the alliance and vice versa.  The Scourge hate everybody and want to take over. I hear stories of giant insects that are also trying to wipe all of us out.  As if all that isn’t enough there is also an active recruiting campaign to get soldiers through a dark portal to another realm of existance to fight a war on some far off planet against yet another threat to all other existance on this world.   This says nothing of the countless other gangs of thieves, cults, xenophobic villages, hostile wildlife and murlocs.  I really really hate murlocs.  Needless to say there is no shortage of adventure here.  So what is a guy to do?  For me right now it’s training and exploration.

 It might have something to do with that blow to the head with a mace I took a while back but I have to admit I’m not exactly the brightest candle in the chandelier.  I have absolutely no affinity for magic whatsoever.  That along with my fascination of weaponry of all kinds has led me to join the ranks of the warriors.  I’ve embraced my training with a passion, taking on whatever quests and menial chores people would give me.  These jobs allow me to explore new areas and really exercise my combat skills.  Every weapon, be it sword or axe or stave has it’s own unique way being put to maximum use.  So I dabble in all of them.  The times I love the most are those moments of clarity where something just clicks.  I have an epiphany along with a surge of adrenaline as some realization or experience ingrains itself into my memory, and I am stronger for it.  Sometimes it happens in the field just as I have killed an enemy, or other times when I report back to my various employers to tell them that a job is complete.  Usually after I have a couple of these moments I will speak to the warrior trainers about my revelations.  Always insightful, they are more than happy to teach me new tricks of the trade (for a small fee of course)  I’ve made rapid progress and am already rank 10 within the Warrior’s order. 

  The pursuit of excellence in all the schools of weaponry have caused me to worry a bit about money. So much to learn and everybody needs a fee to train you, though the money spent here is well worth it.  I have no interest in being an artisan, and since my adventures take me all over place I’ve taken up mining and herbalism so that I can gather raw materials as I carry out my other jobs.  These in turn I sell or trade to the artisans which has given me more than enough coin to cover learning fees and even enough to purchase some better weapons and armor.  As I understand it I could even be considered somewhat wealthy for one who doesn’t have an older family member or guildmate who sponsors them.  With that money I’ve been able to take up residence in the Undercity.  Also I have enough cash for extensive weapons training.  I’m just going to have to take a little trip to do it.  Those zeppelins have fascinated me ever since I first saw them outside of Brill.  Tomorrow I’m going to get to ride one for the first time.  I’ve got to go to Orgrimar for training. Even farther beyond that I’ll have to trek to Mulgore to the city of Thunder Bluff for the final aspects of my training.  Apparently the darkmoon fair is there as well.  I’ll have to see what that is all about.  Well, until next time.