A Death Knight's Tale: Diplomacy

With Acherus won and a good night of rest behind me, I am aching to get back into action. The one who administered my stitches says I must allow my shoulder to rest before returning to battle, but dead flesh will never truly mend. I see no need for further rest, all I see is red, I want Him dead.

The medic gets his wish, for first Mograine requires a mission of diplomacy, a plea to the Alliance for tolerance and peace. I do not relish this kind of task, but perhaps it is a test, to see if I am beyond my bloodthirsty ways, to see if I can control myself in "polite" society. So I go, through this portal, to Stormwind, the heart of the Alliance.

As I walk through this jewel of a city I can feel the eyes glaring at me from all directions. It grows worse the closer I come to the Keep. The crowd grows bold, afterall, I am but one monster in the midst of hundreds. They throw curses as well as rotten food, rocks, whatever they can find, at me. One particularly daring human runs right in front of me, screaming, "Get out of our city, Scourge Fiend!" and spits in my face. This does not distress me, although it isn't particularly pleasant either. My escort, the city guard, pushes him away gently, as I nonchalantly wipe the spittle from my face with the back of my hand.

These people distrust me, and I don't blame them. Look at what I once was. The names they call me are fitting. I am a murderer. They are right to cower in fear at the sight of me. They are right to spit at and curse me.

Yet this letter I carry, signed by no less than Tirion Fordring, represents me as better than that which I once was. By this man's word alone I am permitted entry into Stormwind and presented to the King himself. Our newly formed order needs allies, and what better than to appeal to the King of Stormwind himself?

And yet, I wonder if I am truly able to be a part of this group of the living. My sole purpose now is to end the Scourge. I have nothing else in common with these people. I no longer even remember what my life was when I was alive. Physically, I am obviously of the Draenei. How I came to die in a place where the Lich King would find me and resurrect me as his warrior, I have no idea.

There have been a few since who claim to recognize me, to have known me from before, but there is no memory of that for me. I have no desire to learn of my history. The history that I remember is painful enough, I would not add more to the abominations I have already to account for. As such, I have no feelings for the Draenei as a people, as my people. The Order is now my family, my race, my heritage.

Knowing the atrocities I have committed in His name, I feel I have no right to a future. I will play the hand that is dealt me. I will go to this King of Stormwind and plea for our acceptance. But I can only do so as a logical next step. There is no feeling of loyalty to the Alliance for me. There is only the need to kill Him. To do so we need help. I will ask for help, and I will honor any contract we engage in with the Alliance. Beyond that, who knows?

In Stormwind

The first thing I did when I got into Stormwind proper was go to the nearest tavern. The Tram drops you off in the Dwarven District, and it was a right good thing. I don't think I could have got my bearings with none of that weak stuff the Humans drink. Alcohol made of grapes! Bah! It may taste good, but that's about it. No, what I needed was to lose myself in a rowdy Dwarven bar with a good flagon of mead. I found just that at The Golden Keg. I almost felt like I'd never even left Ironforge.

With my drink drunk and my nerves as settled as they were going to be, I headed to the Cathedral Square to seek out The Shadowbreaker. It was with awe that I entered this area of Stormwind.

Right in front of the Cathedral of Light is a beautiful fountain, a monument to The Lightbringer. And then there is the Cathedral itself. It's beautiful, but it sure ain't Dwarven workmanship. Them spires and such are far too dainty for Dwarven sensibilities. It's a wonder the thing weren't damaged when Deathwing came. I'd imagine the power of The Light was what protected it from the dragon's wrath.

I couldn't resist letting a passing gnome snap some pictures of me at these monuments. I don't know much about how the gnomish picture-taker works, but it sure is nice to have some momentos from my trip.

When I entered the Cathedral it was bustling with Paladins and Priests and the faithful, all rushing around to whatever business they had. I nervously looked up to the altar, and there he was, The Shadowbreaker himself. I nearly stumbled over my own feet making my way across the blue and gold carpet to reach him.

I hadn't quite mastered the art of bowing properly without my wild tresses getting themselves in the way, so I opted to kneel before him, hoping I looked humble enough but still strong. He smiled kindly at me, and it made me feel a touch more at ease. He gestured for me to rise and said, "I have been watching your progress, Gwennis, and I can only conclude that The Light shines brightly upon you. You are becoming an exemplary Paladin."

I felt my cheeks warming as I stood up. I knew they were turning beet red with an embarrassed blush. I'm not so used to such praise and it was coming as a shock. And then it only grew worse.

He nodded and continued, "To honor your dedication, King Wrynn has commissioned the royal armorer to forge a special weapon."

And my jaw nearly dropped down to the floor. The King had commissioned a special weapon to honor me?! I don't even know how the Humans had heard of me. The only thing I could think was that Valgar had been telling tales. I knew that he thought I was doing well enough in my training, and I'd been helping the folks in Dun Morogh and Loch Modan to settle things down after all the earthquakes and such, but I didn't think I deserved all this.

Well, turns out there was a catch. The special weapon to be made for me requires special materials. Basically I got to go get them out of Shadowfang Keep, which has lately been infested with the undead. I don't know if they're Forsaken or Scourge, but either way this is a good chance for me to prove, at least to myself if not to my fellow Paladins, that I deserve this weapon.

The Shadowbreaker took me aside to his study to provide me with maps, the list of items I needed to retrieve, and an explanation of what I may be going up against. It was refreshing to be learning from a Human Paladin. I love my people, but it is always good to keep an open mind and to learn different ways of doing things. He taught me a few tricks I may not have learned otherwise.

I spent that night in Stormwind at The Golden Keg and shared a a few drinks with the Hammerbeaks before bedding down. Borna and Dalga are Wildhammer Dwarves, and I haven't had much opportunity to spend much time with our flying cousins. I was curious about their relationship with the gryphons and what it meant to be a Shaman. We chatted maybe a bit too late into the evening, because when I crawled into bed I could see through my window the distant light of the Sun starting to rise on the horizon. It was beyond time to get some rest. When I awoke I'd have to begin planning my trek to Shadowfang Keep.

A Trip

The city of Ironforge is immense and impressive in its own right. Having grown up in and around this massive city I had lost the awe I once felt for the town in the mountain. It was around this time that I'd grown enough in wielding the power of the Light that Valgar Highforge sent for me.

I approached the temple in the Mystic Ward with not a little trepidation. What could this master Paladin want with little ol' me? I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter a bit at the thought that maybe he is sweet on me, but I quickly shook that feeling off and approached him as a strong and courageous child of the Light should.

I bowed as gracefully as my stout body would allow, and my braids flopped over into my face and dusted the ground at his feet so that when I stood straight once more I looked quite the fool. My face reddened in embarrassment as I attempted to casually shake my head in order to return my plaits to their proper place, I stammered, "You- you- sent for me, sir?"

He chuckled deeply and warm-heartedly with a huge grin on his face and put his arm on my shoulder so that I quickly forgot my embarrassment and foolishness and warmed up to him. "Ye've done well, lass." He nodded at me. "So well, ye've attracted the attention of the Cathedral o' Light."

I gasped and stepped away from him, feeling better and worse all at the same time. "What does this mean?"

He laughed again, the deep laugh only one of my people could have, the kind of laugh you can feel vibrating through the earth beneath your feet. "Don't ye worry, lass. The Shadowbreaker done sent for ye. What he wants with ye, I don't know. I do know he wields the Light in the same manner as ye. Perhaps he can teach ye something I can't."

Still in shock, I looked at him with eyes wide, ignoring his gleaming armor and thick, beautiful beard, in search of some kind of comfort, and whispered, "The Shadowbreaker wants me?"

"Aye, lass. And he ain't the type of man ye want to keep waiting, so ye best be getting on the Tram and making yer way to Stormwind right away."

"But- I- I- "

"Shhh. Do as I say now."

"But I've never been on the Tram. I've never been to Stormwind."

"Shhh. Go now, lass. I don't want to hear another peep out of ye about it. Best to not think overly deep about it and just do it."

"Uh, yes, sir." I bowed again for practice. I had managed to fiddle my braids into my belt in the back in an effort to keep them in place, and this time I pulled off the bow, if not with grace, then at least without embarrassment.

I flew to my barracks and gathered up what little I might need for the trip, muttering to myself the entire time. "Take the Tram he says. It may be the quickest way to Stormwind, but I'll be damned if I trust some Gnomish contraption to take me under the ocean. If I get but a drop of water on me someone's head will roll."

And despite my fears, I boarded the Tram, and held onto the railing tight as we flew off to Stormwind.

When we reached the bit where the rail opened up to glass windows on the ocean floor, I had to squeeze my eyes shut tight, and it took all my training to remain calm in the face of so much water. We were past it quickly, but the nausea didn't disappear until I was on solid ground again.

Stormshield: Tha Beginnin'

I been piratin' off o' tha Borean Tundra pretty much fer a few years. I know, it ain't quite right stealin' from tha people goin' ta battle tha Lich King, but a gal's got ta make a livin'. Things got real quiet once Arthas be sent ta Davy Jones' locker. Once tha bulk o' tha army be back ta where they come from, both Horde an' Alliance, there weren't much ta do.

I be takin' a break from tha old heave ho, an' be spendin' mah days fishin'. I made up a kinship with tha walrus people, whadaya call 'em? Kalu'ak? They taught meh some o' their fishin' tricks an' I was obliged not ta hornswaggle 'em when I had goods ta trade. They even gave meh a li'l 'ol penguin they found on some iceberg somewheres as a friendship gift er somethin'. They had some right good herb they smoked in their pipes too. I wish that stuff grew everywhere... Anyways, what were I sayin'?

Oh yah, meh an' Bucko (that's what I call tha penguin) be relaxin' an' fishin' an' havin' a blast, but things be real quiet, almost too quiet. Tha Kvaldir wasn't even raidin' no more. An' then tha waves come. I been a freebooter fer as long as I can remember and I ain't never seen no waves like these. There be waves an' waterspouts an' then there be tha water spirits too.

Bein' a Storm Caller mehself, like meh mother before meh and her mother an' on down tha line, I done meh best ta calm tha spirits, but they wasn't happy and wasn't nothin' I could do. Tha waves was bigger'n Ironforge mountain itself, an' they be poundin' tha ship ta smithereens, an' I thought fer sure I be ready to feed tha fish. I be goin' down with meh ship, but Bucko didn't have ta go with meh. I kept tryin' ta shoo him away, but tha bilge-suckin' fool wouldna leave meh.

Last thing I remember be tha mast fallin' an' I be half runnin' an' half swimmin', Bucko at meh side, then somethin' hit meh in tha head an' tha lights went out. Next thing I know I be surrounded by these li'l runts with all these gadgets an' doodads an' I dunno whatall and meh head on fire with tha pain.

That be how I met Fangle. He be tellin' meh ta sit still fer ta heal meh up. How's a gal supposed ta sit still when she been through all that? I didn'a know where I was er who tha li'l buggers was, nor what had happened, and I guess I still don't.

These li'l guys be sayin' we just fell from tha sky, but that can't be true, can it? Some way Bucko made it here with meh, an' Light's Truth that be a miracle, sure an' true. Light knows how I got here, but I be thankful he be here too.

One thing I do know, that Fangle be a darn good healer. He done fixed Bucko an' meh up right good. Tha only trouble be he's takin' a likin' to meh, an' goes with me everywhere. It ain't all bad, but I ain't rightly sure he knows what he be gettin' himself into. I ain't exactly an angel from heaven. I be happy ta have tha company though, as Bucko don't say much. Har Har Har!

A Death Knight's Tale: A Minor Victory

We are many, so many of us only just re-awakened from the nightmare that was His control. We march for Acherus, for Mograine, for revenge.

By the time I reached Acherus the Hall of Command had already been retaken. Mograine advised that while He had escaped to Northrend, He did leave behind a mess for us to clean up on the central floor.

As we made our way into the Heart of Acherus, I could feel the thrill of the day coursing through my body. I was anxious to exact some kind of revenge even if I couldn't reach Him directly yet. The changes to Mograine left him a fierce and strong commander and his fury spread to all of us. We felt invincible.

The stench hit me first, then the buzzing of flies. Being undead this is not something unusual, but it did forewarn the extent of the force awaiting us. As I entered I could see a large army of abominations and Val'kyr, and at their center Kel'Thuzad's own avatar of war, Patchwerk. Could we really take on this behemoth?

With a unified roar we surged forward to cut into the army of lesser abominations and Val'kyr, our runeblades sinking into rotting flesh. As we began working our way through his army to reach him Patchwerk asked, "Death Knights come play?" I felt a hook in my back and a chain drawing me to one of these creatures that had not yet been engaged, the pain numbed by the fervor of my desire for vengeance, I fought on.

I brought my blade up in a quick movement, slicing through the arm that held the chain and hook. The flesh golem's arm went limp and I felt some relief from the pain in my back. There were still two other arms to deal with. I blocked and dodged the wicked cleavers held in those hands, searching for the perfect moment. These beasts are not wise and often leave themselves vulnerable to attack; their only thoughts are of destruction, not their own well-being. The moment came. The creature swung both cleavers towards me. I ducked and both it's weapons were caught in the wall. As it struggled to free them, I steeled myself to the task at hand and plunged my blade up into the creatures gut, twisting to ensure I'd take out any vitals.The creature let out a noise similar to flatulence as its body disintegrated above me, covering me in gore.

Over the din I could hear Kel'Thuzad's creation say, "Why you want hurt Patch?" I almost felt sorry for the thing as it was obviously confused by the situation. We had once been on the same side. We had all once been Scourge.

Our numbers overwhelmed them quickly and soon it was all over. We were victorious. The Ebon Hold was now ours. I wouldn't call it a bloody battle, but it certainly was a mess. It will be much work to clean the place up.

Many of my comrades fell this day, but I will not shed any tears for them, just a slight regret that it wasn't me in their place. My will is consumed by the need to put an end to His nightmare reign. It is not much to live on, but I will fight until I see Him dead or until I am no more.

Time for a quick stitch up of the wound on my back and a long shower.

A Death Knight's Tale: Touched by The Light

"Stand down death knights. We've lost. The Light... This place... No hope..."

I awoke to these words on my commander's lips, my body forced to kneel before the power of The Light. I glanced over myself and my fellows, all wet with the rain mixed with the blood of those we had slain. I listened as the paladin spoke the truth of our situation. I watched as the realization of what had happened came to Mograine's mind. I saw Him appear before us, dark and deadly and powerful as always. It had all been a game, a ploy to lure Fordring out. We were all just sheep before the slaughter, a tool for Him to use.

I watched as The Light cleansed Mograine's heart as well as his weapon, the Ashbringer. The glow of The Light was blinding, radiating warmth and life. My heart and mind were cleansed by its power. The image of Tirion Fordring wielding that wonderous weapon now cleansed of all taint is branded in my mind.

Would that we could cleanse Frostmourne too. Would that He could return to us as the child He once was. What has been done cannot be undone. He can no longer be mended, just as I can no longer be whole. Too much has happened.

All memories before this moment are indistinct. I do not remember my life before undeath. My earliest memories are of His voice, deep and dark, echoing through my mind, commanding me to kill or be killed. I remember a blur of frenzied violence and slaughter, and then this miraculous day when this monstrous killer was touched by The Light.

I am not healed. I am not whole. But at least now I am no longer under His control. All I have known of "life" is violence, and that is all I still know. My body aches to fight, and so I will allow it, but now I am my own. I decide on which side I fight and I have decided that He must die.

I join with Mograine and his Knights of the Ebon Blade. As Mograine has said, "We must make amends in the only way we know how: Death..." And so I march with my brothers and sisters to retake what is rightfully ours, to reclaim Acherus, our Ebon Hold.

All My Minions: Imp-proper Behavior

Ashwynn: Come here, Biznip.
Biznip: That is not in my contract!
She glares at him, tapping her foot impatiently.
Biznip: Oh wait...
He pulls a well read sheath of papers from thin air and reads.
Biznip: Uh, I guess it is.
He capers over to her, doing handstands and flips as he goes.
Biznip: What's up, boss?
Ashwynn: Was wondering if you could head over to Stonebrow's and pick me up some Eternium Thread?
Biznip: Aww, sure, send the little guy. That thread weighs about as much as I do!
She pokes his belly.
Ashwynn: Looks as though you could use the exercise. This sedentary life is making you weak.
Biznip: Look who's talking!
Ashwynn: Well, excuse you! Would you rather I send you back to the Twisting Nether for a bit?
Biznip: Err...
Ashwynn: Kraknak always obeys me. Perhaps it is past time he became my minion of choice.
Biznip: Awww. C'mon, boss, you know I'm your favorite. I'm your first. And besides, you know you love my back talk. At least I'm not truly rebellious like that succubus of yours.
Ashwynn: Disynn may be unruly but she has her uses.
Biznip: ...in bed. Heheheh!
Ashwynn: Biznip! Hush!
Biznip: Fine. I'm goin', I'm goin'.
He scampers off, trailing a wisp of felfire.

Ashwynn: Minions! Can't live with them. Can't live without them.