Crimson Tainted Blade

[Morghoul]

edit by Mortica:

The complete story is now found in http://tn.yzeens.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=172

Please leave any comments there :)

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(This is a joint effort by Kelley Frankovitch and myself to introduce the characters and backgrounds of Morghoul [horde] and Liadain [alliance].)



More Ghoul Than Human

There are many things Morghoul will not speak of, and first amongst those is his childhood. It is rumored that at the tender age of eight Morghoul was the center of a town ruckus. Apparently another young boy had went out to butcher some of the family’s rabbits for their evening stew. Morghoul hid in the bushes watching from a far as the boy killed the first rabbit. The boy then supposedly tripped and fell upon the butchering knife. Morghoul then emerged from the shadows and tried to replicate what he had just witnessed the other boy doing and he began flaying the dead boy. He then allegedly took some of the meat to his small home and began cooking it. That is when the boy’s mutilated body was discovered and the town bells tolled.

A town meeting ensued and it was eventually discovered that Morghoul was cooking pieces of the boy’s flesh. Some accused him of murdering the boy, while others dismissed it all as the act of a young boy imitating what he had just witnessed without knowing better. Nonetheless, it appears that this is how Morghoul received his name… as there were many who accused him of being “more ghoul” than human.

Facing growing ostracism and suspicion in the town, Morghoul set off on his own at the age of ten. He learned to sneak into the town to pilfer what he needed. As time passed, Morghoul learned he could successfully take more and more. Eventually he became a predator of the woods and rumors started up about a mad cannibal that would slaughter any who strayed too far into the forest...

[Morghoul]

The Madness of Deirdre Greene

As the years went on, Morghoul could only watch from afar as his former friends grew up. He hated the town council for what they had turned him into and sought revenge. The only question was how to achieve it.

Most of his anger was centered on one individual, Baron Tyne. The Baron was a well respected and rather powerful man. He often called for the exile of Morghoul after the discovery of the flayed boy’s body. Many in the town argued against the Baron, but he swore that he could see the taint of the scourge upon Morghoul’s very soul. The Baron’s determination to rid the town of Morghoul’s presence was long remembered. So when Morghoul found himself abandoned to the wilderness he swore to become the embodiment of the Baron’s downfall.

Morghoul would often break into the nearby city’s library to steal books of law, culture and finance as he plotted the ruin of the Baron’s power. But it was not until he noticed the advancing flirtations of a young lady named Deirdre Greene that he truly found the weapon he was seeking.

A year passed and there was barely a moment that Morghoul did not have his eyes upon the Baron or upon sharpening the butchering blade he had kept from his first… trophy. He found it poetic to think about the very blade which had caused him so much grief being the same blade that would end the Baron’s life. This is when the seduction of Deirdre began. Deirdre had won over the heart of Baron Tyne and she had learned that the Baron was a true and just man with a piercing gaze, despite his fierceness in battle. In due time they became engaged and it was at this time that Morghoul emerged from the shadows he kept as company.

It is a bit uncertain how Morghoul gained her favor, but it is rumored that it was during this time that he discovered a cave to the very core of the land. In that cave it is believed that he discovered an ancient cult known as The Crimson Watch and assassinated their master to claim leadership. But this is mere speculation and he has yet to reveal the exact path toward his ascension. What is known is that there was more than simple charm that aided him in winning Deirdre’s heart and mind. He appeared to crack her very soul.

Morghoul toiled away night and day thinking of ways to win Deirdre’s affection and turn her upon the Baron. The people of the town began whispering about the man they would see coming and going from her home. Most suspected Morghoul was a messenger of the Baron’s bestowing gifts and good word to her, yet there were a few who thought Deirdre had begun cheating on the Baron.

In truth, Morghoul began preaching tales of madness and the coming of The End to Deirdre. He taught her to believe that the only path to enlightenment existed just beyond the threshold genius and in the realm of madness. He would keep her awake into the wee hours of the morning teaching her to see the absurdity of all things and the pointlessness of existence when everything she cherished could be taken away with but one single thrust of a dagger. During the nightly discussions and at her weakest moments, Morghoul began stealing more than her mind from her though. As her tears splashed upon the pages of ancient texts of chaos and entropy he would bring for her to read, he would cradle her just as lovingly as a mother would cradle a young child who just told panderans do not exist. Just as he chiseled his way into her mind, he chiseled his way into her heart.

A mere month before Deirdre and the Baron were to be wed, her sanity seemed to be slipping to all who knew her. She would cackle at odd intervals and would erupt into a random tirade in the middle of a polite discussion. The Baron began questioning Deirdre’s closest friends about her outbursts and it was then that he learned of the mysterious stranger’s visits to Deirdre’s home.

Rather than fly into a blind rage, the Baron brought Deirdre to his home to speak with her about the mysterious man who had been seen visiting her. What exactly happened that night is a matter of speculation, but one thing is certain, the Baron’s body was discovered with a butchering blade planted into his eye socket and pieces of his body were strewn across an entire room.

The servants who discovered the scene found Deirdre crumpled in a ball upon the ground grasping onto a bejeweled severed finger of Baron Tyne. It appeared that she had spent the night crying and her eyes could offer forth no additional tears as they stared blankly at the carnage.

“He ate him… he ate him… my child is not the Baron’s... not his… he ate him… he ate him… my baby, my precious baby… forgive me… forgive me… forgive me…” These were the only words muttered by Deirdre as she was shackled by the town guards and escorted away for questioning. And her mysterious visitor was not seen again.

Deirdre spent six months in the sanitarium before she could speak coherently again. Whenever she was questioned about the crime, she would simply shake and once again find it impossible to speak. Few in the town believed her to be directly responsible for the crime, if at all… but there were the occasional mutterings in the street as she would walk past. The town council agreed that she had endured enough during her stay in the sanitarium and that the child she was to give birth to would serve as punishment enough…

Deirdre’s condition left her father shamed. He was faced with a broken daughter about to give birth to a bastard child. In his best effort to remedy the situation and take care of his daughter, he promised her hand in marriage to a merchant named Seamus Dunraven. Seamus asked that the wedding dowry be doubled if he were forced to take carry her through her mental condition and placed in care of her child. It was at this time that Deirdre and Seamus moved out to a settlement in Moonbrook, pursuing his latest business venture… And these are the circumstances fair Liadain found herself unknowingly born into.

[Morghoul]

SI:7 Operative Investigation Record

Liadain Eliza Dunraven (AKA Keelhaul Lizzie, AKA The Unbound Wolf)

Born 23 years ago in Moonbrook, Westfall territory. Daughter of Seamus Dunraven, a merchant, and Deirdre Greene, a seamstress. No known siblings; younger brother, Aidan, died of pneumonia at the age of 5.

When Liadain was 5 years old, the Dunraven family relocated to the Dustwallow Marsh settlement, Kalimdor. Her father became a chief member of the Merchant Alliance, transporting raw materials from the marsh to the Eastern Kingdoms.

Eventually, Seamus Dunraven built and opened the first inn and tavern in the Dustwallow Marsh settlement, the Lazy Seal.

At the age of 11, Liadain became a known operative for the Southsea Freebooters, as they made a move to claim a foothold in the region. It was rumored that she was taken under the wing of one, Jordan Lystram*, a Freebooter lieutenant.

At 18, Liadain found Jordan Lystram tortured, gutted and strung up on a tree just outside what had, by that time, become Theramore Isle. Liadain was tried on suspicion of involvement in the murder but was later cleared. No further information available. Soon after that incident Liadain left Theramore.

Minimal information is available on the subject from that point until 3 years later when she resurfaced in Ironforge, advertising her services as a mercenary. Liadain was hired by one, Deebum Felsprocket*, and has been in his company for the last 2 years.

Within the last few months, Liadain has been seen in and around Stormwind City, wearing the colors of a guild known as the "Time Bandits." Rumor has it that she is an officer under their leader, a gnomish mage called Mckay*.

END OF REPORT

Most current update compiled by:

Osborne the Night Man, Stormwind City



(written by Kelley)

[Morghoul]

The Verdict: Liadain Leaves Theramore

The eyes, the eyes. They gouged out his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes…

The crack of the gavel rang out like a gunshot, but Liadain did not flinch. She felt hands on her arms as two guards moved to escort her out and she heard her mother prattling on in her ear. Her mother was saying something about “lucky” and “innocent.” Lia meekly allowed the hands to lead her out of the room and toward the stairs.

Bloody. Oh, the blood. Gutted. Sliced right open. Must be dead, must be dead, please be dead.

As the small group approached the base of the stairs, an overfed merchant’s wife turned and looked down her nose at Lia. “Too bad that poor girl had to get mixed up with the likes of him. Bloody pirate got what he had coming to him…”

Signs of a struggle. Straining against the ropes. By the Light, the pain… my love, my love.

The old woman’s words cut like a knife into the fog surrounding Lia. Lia moved quickly and snatched a blade from the hip of one of her escorts. The old wife screamed and tried to get out of the way as Lia’s guards attempted to subdue their charge. Lia felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck and then all was dark and quiet.

*****

A week later, Lia stood at the end of the pier, wearing all of her worldly possessions. She had not said a word to her father and had left only a brief note to her mother, attempting to explain why she was leaving for good this time.

She could not tell any of Theramore’s citizenry why their derision upset her so and those with the power to make things right could not, or would not, do so. It was time. Time to finally sever all ties to this place. Time to break the chains and move on. Time to see the world and try to find a way to carry on in his memory.

Lia turned slowly away from the edge of the pier and started walking. She would head north to the Freebooter camps and then to wherever their ships might take her. It was time to begin the long process of trying to carry on…

I will not let your death have been for nothing, my love. I will try to find my way and continue your work and maybe someday, when I have the means, I will exact revenge on those that betrayed you.
And, thus, Liadain Dunraven left Theramore.


(written by Kelley)

[Morghoul]

Tales of Scars, Part Two

The hunting party had been combing the Wailing Caverns for hours, slaughtering raptors and other assorted reptiles. Liadain was scouting some of the smaller tunnels, looking for more of their quarry, in the hopes that she and her team could finish the job and move out. She knew that the number of Horde in the area was growing by the minute as word of the Alliance presence spread. So far, they had been able to dispatch the few groups that had attempted to attack them, but Lia knew it was unlikely they would remain so lucky.

Lia loosened her grip on her weapons slightly. She could feel the burn of newly forming blisters on her hands. This was taking far too long and requiring far too much effort.

What happened to this easy in and out hunting excursion? Apparently, someone felt it was unnecessary to mention that the scales had to be perfect...

She sighed heavily and stood up; there was not a lizard to be found in this area. Lia began making her way back toward the central tunnel.

As she rounded the corner and entered the largest of the intersections in the cave system, Lia heard a soft splash in the pool ahead of her and felt a slight rush of air off to her left. Instinctively, she crouched; her senses piqued. She started to slip quietly toward the shadows of the cave wall but then she saw him.

A large troll crept through the dim light before her, his mouth pulled back in a sneer. Lia's heart pounded as she stood, frozen, weighing her odds.

It’s just one troll. If I dispatch him quickly enough he won't be able to alert anyone else.

With that thought, she slowly moved forward. The troll's gaze shifted to Lia as he saw her movement out of the corner of his eye. He laughed and the sound was like the low rumble of thunder. The look on the troll's face made Lia hesitate for a moment, he looked almost... smug. It was then that she felt the cold presence behind her and her breath caught in her throat.

Her adrenalin surged and Lia whipped around, raking her blades across the abdomen of her unknown assailant. She found herself face to face with a Forsaken, his yellowed eyes glinting with a hint of amusement as he took two steps back and brought his daggers up to strike.

Lia stepped back as she parried the undead's first assault with her sword. He feinted as she tried to take the offensive and managed to bring one of his poisoned daggers around into her thigh, slicing through the leather and breaking the skin. Though it was not a deep wound, she could feel the numbing toxin dulling her reflexes.

Lia spun out of the Forsaken's reach, her feet splashing in the shallow pool at the center of the cavern, as she stabbed forward with her dagger and left a deep wound on his shoulder. She struggled to fight the effects of his poison as she glanced behind her, trying to locate the troll who had vanished into the shadows. Her vision blurred and she blinked hard trying to focus. The moment's hesitation was all the opportunity her assailants needed.

They were on her in an instant. The troll appeared behind her and brought the hilt of his dagger down hard at the base of her neck. Lia staggered, trying to stay on her feet, as the Forsaken struck her hard across the face. She could taste the salt of her own blood in her mouth as her vision flickered. She made a futile attempt to bring her sword around but the undead easily dodged the attack and landed another blow, this one squarely in her abdomen.

Lia fell to her knees in the stagnant pool. The troll's rumbling laughter filled her ears as he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet. A few words were exchanged, and then the Forsaken took her by the arm and dragged her into a shadowed recess. Lia stumbled behind him, barely able to control her own movements. She franticly tried to fight the numbness as a knot of terror formed in her stomach.

They could just finish me off… Why don’t they do it?

Once they were out of the main thoroughfare, the Forsaken moved behind her, wrapping one boney arm around her neck and using the other to pin her arms. Her senses were assaulted by the stench of him; the stench of rotting flesh and fresh dirt. In a panic, she mustered enough strength to buck against him, desperately trying to free herself. Her head hit him hard, square in the jaw, but his grip only loosened for a moment before he tightened his hold. She gasped as his arm crushed her throat.

“Hush… My child… We have won. You are ours to play with… little mouse… Pale little mouse…” His common was slow and deliberate and his voice sounded like stone being ground. His words sent a shiver of terror up her spine and she tried once more to struggle free of his grip as the troll moved toward her menacingly. The undead deftly kneed her in the back and she fell limp once more.

The troll made quick work of removing her tunic. He muttered a few words in his native tongue before he slowly and deliberately lowered his dagger to the flesh of her abdomen. Liadain felt the sharp sting as the dagger made a shallow trail across her skin. She cried out, but the Forsaken’s arm promptly silenced her. Several minutes passed and the troll continued his work. Soon her abdomen was drenched in blood.

Suddenly, he stopped. Lia’s head was swimming but she struggled to focus and she heard what had caught her assailants’ attention. A group was coming up the cavern and she could hear them calling her name. A wave of relief washed over her. She heard the undead bark something to the troll. The troll frowned, running a hand across her abdomen. The Forsaken growled at him and the troll nodded, hefting his dagger.

Liadain watched through the fog of her mind as the dagger came up. She felt strangely detached, but somewhere in the back of her mind an alarm sounded. She tried half-heartedly to struggle but was unsuccessful and the dagger came down swiftly. It struck her chest, slipping between her ribs and settling a hair’s breadth from her heart. Lia screamed as the pain lanced through her, overriding the numbing effects of the poison and the pain of her other injuries. She heard a commotion in the distance as her companions heard the sound.

The troll growled, as the Forsaken hissed at him, and he twisted the dagger before yanking it out. Lia’s head was spinning and she could feel her arms and legs growing cold. She fell to the floor in a bloody heap as her enemies faded into the shadows, leaving her for dead. The world faded away.

Lia awoke outside the cavern, vaguely aware of the paladin, Maldrick, touching her as Deebum dumped some sort of concoction down her throat. Maldrick rose slowly and pulled her up to lean on his shoulder. She gritted her teeth at the pain and felt warm blood trickle down her chest.

“I know, lass. I know. It’s the best we can do for now. We have to get moving.” He paused for a moment. “Here…” He dug around in his bag until he found a flask and he lifted it to her lips. She felt the strong brew burn all the way down, but she drank it greedily. “Alright, let’s move out.”

Lia didn’t remember much of the trip back to Stormwind, as she faded in and out of consciousness. When they arrived in the city, Deebum and Maldrick took her to the inn and tended to her as best they could. Once she seemed to be resting comfortably, they left her. The next morning, her friend, Rashida, appeared and insisted on taking care of her. For the next several days, she was incapacitated as her wounds healed. She drank more than her fair share to alleviate the pain and the boredom.

Eventually, the scratches on Lia’s abdomen healed with nary a reminder, but the nasty wound on her chest was another story. Thanks to Rashida’s diligence, it healed well, but it scarred; a jagged scar, thickest at the middle where the dagger was twisted. This scar would serve as a constant reminder of her mortality.


(written by Kelley)

[Morghoul]

Coming Home

Liadain stood on the pier, looking at the people milling about within the walls of Theramore. She had passed through here many times over the last few months but she never stayed long enough to leave an impression. She knew that there were still many here who would remember her. Many who would remember Jordan and the controversy surrounding his brutal death. And, of course, very few who knew the truth of it.

Today, she was here about the future. She was, in fact, here to reconcile some of her past with her future. She set her jaw and began the walk from the docks to the inn. When her parents had first established the inn here, they had called it “The Lazy Seal.” These days she didn’t know if it even had a name. She had heard that her father had decided to sell the inn, due to his deteriorating health, a couple of years earlier. She wondered if the bastard was even alive now.

----------------------

Angry tears ran down eleven-year-old Liadain Dunraven’s face as she hastily packed all of her clothes into her backpack. Her mother stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed and worry etched into her features.

“Liadain… honey.” Deirdre Dunraven whispered.

“No, mama. I’m not staying.” Lia sniffled. “I can’t. Not here. Not with him. The pirates will take care of me.” Lia fumbled with the buckles on her bag.

“But Liadain… He’s your father…” Deirdre jumped as the imposing figure of Seamus Dunraven filled the doorway.

“What’s going on here, eh?” Seamus’ voice was cold. Lia could feel every muscle in her small frame tense as a mixture of fear and hatred swelled within her. “What are you doing girl?”

Lia’s voice was a whisper. “I’m… I’m leaving.”

There was a heavy silence before Seamus spoke again. “Leaving?” He growled. “You little #@%$!. It’s too much to ask that the little brat serve her father. After everything I’ve done for her… Raising her…” He took two long strides into the room and grabbed Lia by the arm roughly, his fingers digging into her flesh.

“Seamus! Don’t!” Deirdre moved forward, hands outstretched.

Lia looked up at him defiantly, even as her small frame shook in fear. Seamus looked from her to her mother before letting Lia go roughly. “Fine. We’ll let her go. Little !@!#& wants to run off and screw sailors to make her way in the world. So be it…”

Liadain grabbed her bag and ran from the room before her father could see her cry.

-----------------------

Lia stopped in the inn’s entryway and scanned the few patrons having breakfast. Most of them appeared to be travelers, with a few regulars in the mix. The only familiar face was that of Smiling Jim making his way through the crowd. She nodded to him and he pointed toward the table by the fireplace.

Lia looked in the direction Jim was pointing and she saw her. Deirdre Dunraven sat in a chair before the fire, looking startlingly frail. Lia took a deep breath and walked over to her mother. Deirdre didn’t notice her until she had come all the way around the table. When she finally looked up, she practically leapt to her feet.

“Liadain!!” Deirdre embraced Lia tightly.

“Hello, Mama.” Lia smiled softly and returned the embrace. “You should sit…”

Deirdre moved to sit back down and Lia sat in the chair next to hers. Deirdre reached out and ran a hand through her daughter's closely cropped hair. “Still wearing your hair like this… You’ll never find a suitable husband with hair like that, my dear.”

Lia laughed softly. “Actually, Mama, That’s why I’m here. I wanted you to know that I have found someone and that we are to be married. I… I don’t know. I thought it might bring you some happiness.”

Deirdre’s face broke into a smile. “Of course it brings me happiness, you silly girl.” She leaned forward and kissed Liadain’s cheek. “And are you happy?”

“Very much so, Mama.” Lia gazes into the fire. “I’ve not felt anything similar to this since Jordan and this… it’s even stronger than that somehow.”

Deirdre’s smile wavered slightly at the mention of Liadain’s first love, but she recovered and took Lia’s hand in hers, squeezing it. “That is wonderful, Liadain. And does this knight in shining armor have a name?”

“Celethorn Greyhame.” Lia turned back to her mother, smiling. “He’s a Ranger… He actually hails from Lordaeron.”

Deirdre nodded slowly, thinking. “Aye… The name sounds vaguely familiar.” She shrugged. “At any rate, at least his not a pirate.”

Lia’s gaze darkened slightly. “Mother…”

“I know, Liadain. I’m sorry. I appreciate you seeking me out to tell me, dear girl. I worry about you… You know your father died two months ago now. I tried to track you down to tell you, but I wasn’t sure where you’d be.”

Liadain frowns. “How did he die?”

“It was pneumonia. His health had been failing for quite some time and he finally caught something he couldn’t fight off.” Deirdre looked wistfully into the fire. “The house has been empty without him.”

Lia shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that he died. But you’ll forgive me if I don’t weep.”

Deirdre looked at Lia sadly. “Liadain, he always tried to do his best by you. You shouldn’t be so heartless.”

“Mother, you know that is not true. He never gave me a moment’s peace. I could never do anything right and when I finally started to make my own way in the world he attributed it to my way with men.” Lia looked away.

“He…” Deirdre shrugs. “I guess there’s no easy way to explain it Liadain.”

Lia sighed heavily. “Well, Mama. Maybe now is the time. I’m getting ready to be married… I might have a family someday and the thought scares me. Why? Because the only example of such a life that I have is the mockery of a marriage you and father had and the abusive relationship he had with me.”

Lia’s tone was even, but it was obvious that the words stung Deirdre deeply. “There was a lot you didn’t know, Liadain.”

“Then tell me… now.” Lia turned back to her mother and sat back in her chair, waiting. “That’s part of what brought me here. I need to understand, so I can learn.”

Now it was Deirdre’s turn to look away; her deep brown eyes growing distant as she looked into the firelight. “Well then. I suppose I should start with the fact that Seamus was not really your father.”

Lia’s world stopped for a moment. “What?”

“I was already carrying you when Seamus agreed to marry me. My father had nearly doubled my dowry to compensate for the fact that I was so shamed. Seamus liked me well enough and he saw it as a very lucrative business venture.” She looked down. “He tried very hard to be a father to you Liadain. It was always hard for him though. Especially after Aidan died and he knew that he would never have a child of his own.”

Lia sat dumbfounded as this revelation slowly sank in. “But… Who?”

Deirdre’s gaze returned to the fire. “It doesn’t matter, Lia. Your real father is most likely dead and… There are some things best left alone.”

Lia could feel her cheeks growing hot. “What the hell does that mean? You tell me that the man I thought was my father was, in fact, nothing more than an opportunistic vulture and you won’t tell me who my father really is… was??”

Deirdre looked up at Lia, sadly. “It is my shame to bear, Liadain. Not yours. If I thought that it would make any difference I would tell you. But it will not, not now. All of that is ancient history. Just know, Lia, that I did have a love once and I managed to lose it through my own weakness. You can be happy with this Ranger… Greyhame. You must just be vigilant.”

Lia’s confusion and anger felt like a rock in the pit of her stomach. “I… I must go, mother.” Lia stood hastily, trembling slightly.

Deirdre rose and put a hand on Lia’s shoulder. “I know this is hard, Liadain, but you are still the same woman you were five minutes ago and your life will go on as it has been and you will be happy. My wayward daughter…” Deirdre kissed Lia’s forehead gently.

Liadain looked at her mother for a long moment, her face a mixture of rage and exasperation. “You’ll understand mother, if I don’t feel I can be certain of that…” Lia turned to the door. “Safe travels, mama.”

Deirdre Dunraven sat down heavily, as her only daughter hurried from the inn, and cried.



(written by Kelley)

[Morghoul]

From a note Lia sent to Celethorn:

I have been having some difficulty sleeping lately, my love. I have probably been overworking myself to keep busy but, when I do finally succumb to the need for rest, my sleep is often plagued by these strange, anxious dreams of shadows and the unknown. I have no doubt it is, in part, due to my conflict over what to do about my real father. Whether or not to delve further into finding out who he is...

I took Sanrin's advice and went to the library. I looked up town registries for various small towns in Lordaeron and I did find one with a few entries for Deirdre Greene. It appears that she was, in fact, to be married to a Baron Tyne prior to her marriage to my... adopted father. However, Baron Tyne was apparently murdered just before the wedding. There was not much more information beyond that. However, I can certainly infer that the Baron might have been my real father...


(written by Kelley)

[Morghoul]

The Pain of Truth

Liadain stands in the middle of a dead field, surrounded by ghouls and skeletons. Her expression is impassive as she moves fluidly from stance to stance; gutting, hacking and slicing the undead around her. Her armor is covered in blood and ichor, but she seems unphased. She concentrates only on the rhythm of the battle at hand.

Strike. Strike. Eviscerate. Strike. Strike…

-----

“Mama?” Liadain slipped in the front door of her mother’s house, glancing around at the modest but adequate furnishings. Her mother never had been one for excess. As the front door closed softly, Deirdre Dunraven came in from the kitchen, smiling brightly.

“Liadain! I didn’t know you were stopping by… I would have cooked something.” Deirdre wiped her hands on her apron and moved to hug Lia. Lia smiled and returned the embrace. “Have you married that man of yours yet?”

Lia laughed softly. “Aye. The wedding was a week ago.”

“Well, I imagine it was lovely. Did you wear a dress? Please, girl, tell me you wore a dress…”

“Aye, Mama. I wore a dress.” Lia settled in a chair as her mother moved to sit opposite her. “In fact, I did nothing that would have embarrassed you.”

Deirdre smiled and reached out to squeeze Lia’s knee. “Good. I’m glad to hear that it went well. So… why the visit today?”

Lia sighed and studied her mother for a moment before she spoke. “I… have been thinking about what you told me when last we spoke. About father.”

Deirdre’s brow furrowed. “I told you not to concern yourself with that, Liadain.”

“Well, Mama, I have. I think I have a right to know who my real father is, after all.” Lia sat forward. “Or who he was.”

-----

Liadain grunts as the cold chill of the skeleton’s ice bolt permeates her flesh and she falls to a knee as the ghoul brings his fist down on the back of her neck. She screams and brings her blades up, severing the skeleton’s spine as she gets to her feet. She clenches her teeth.

Gouge. Strike. Strike... -----

Deirdre rose suddenly and walked away toward the front window. “There are things better left unknown, Liadain.”

Lia sighed and looked into the distance. “Mama, you know me. I can’t let this rest. I need to know who he was. I need to know the sort of man he was… If he was better than the man who took his place.”

“He… was not. Let this go, Liadain. Please.” Deirdre’s voice faltered.

Lia rose and walked over to her mother, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Mama. Was it Baron Tyne?”

Deirdre looked as though she had been struck. “Tyne…”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I had to know. I looked into it. I found records and they indicate that you were to marry this Baron but that he… died.” Lia had turned away from her mother to walk back across the room and did not see the mixture of confusion and anger on Deirdre’s face. She turned back to find her mother staring at her. “Mama?”

“Died… died.” Deirdre laughed and the sound was strained and unnerving. “Tyne was… murdered. Murdered.”

Lia nodded slowly, uncertain of how to react to her mother’s change in demeanor. “Aye. The records indicated such... Was he my father?”

Deirdre’s laugh was chilling.

-----

Liadain feels the snap of bone as she buries her dagger to its hilt in the chest of the ghoul. She twists it savagely and yanks it out. The ghoul falls at her feet in a heap and she dives over the remains, out of the way of the other two undead. She rolls to her feet and braces for the next assault.

Strike. Strike. Kidney shot. Strike…

-----

Lia looked at her mother with growing unease, a hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of her sword. “Mama?”

“No. No. Not your father… Your father ate him. Ate him. Entropy. Decay. The way of the world… The way of the world…” Deirdre sank slowly to the floor under the window. “The way of the world until the River of Blood that shall herald the end of all.”

Lia’s confusion was apparent. She moved quickly to her mother, crouching next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Mama… I’m sorry. Please stop. I won’t ask any more questions.” Lia rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, holding her.

Her mother shook, sobs wracking her body for several moments before she finally calmed a bit. “Liadain…” She whispered. “I’m sorry for my weakness. You must be ever vigilant lest he take you too.”

Liadain frowned. “Who, Mama?”

“My beautiful Liadain. Beware the Crimson Lord…” Deirdre’s whisper was so soft Lia almost couldn’t hear her. Suddenly, in one smooth movement, Deirdre slipped Lia’s dagger from its sheath and buried it in her own abdomen.

-----

Liadain raises her sword over an incapacitate ghoul and grunts as she brings the blade down. The ghoul’s head rolls off into the dirt and Liadain kicks it out of the way as she rounds on the last of her enemies.

Strike. Strike. Eviscerate…

-----

“Mama! Bloody hell...” Liadain lowered her mother to the floor, prying her blood soaked hands away from the hilt of the dagger. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” Lia set her jaw and grabbed her medical supplies from her backpack. Through a fog of shock and distress, she tended the wound well enough to stop the bleeding. “I will not let you leave me like this.” She looked up at her mother defiantly.

Deirdre opened her eyes and looked at Liadain sadly. “The dark wrath of these shall be strong, and the blood of thousands shall fall from their terrible powers.” Her voice was weak and her face pale.

“That may be. But right now, no one is falling to anyone’s dark wrath.” Liadain’s face was a mask of determination as she proceeded to take her mother to the infirmary in the barracks.

A few hours later, Liadain stood just outside the doorway of the infirmary, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on her mother’s still form. Doctor VanHowzen left Deirdre’s bedside and walked over to Lia.

“She’s going to be fine, but it will take some time and… I cannot speak to her mental state. She seems… quite disturbed.”

Lia nodded. “Aye.” There was much more Lia could say, much more she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come. “You can keep her here, aye? Take care of her here?”

VanHowzen nodded. “For as long as we can. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Once her wounds have healed, she can probably be moved. Lady Greyhame… Might I ask what happened?”

Lia looked at him and shook her head. “I only wish I really understood myself. Take care of her, Doctor.” Vanhowzen nodded as Liadain turned and left the barracks without another word.

-----

Liadain stands over the broken bodies of the undead, her blades held loosely at her sides. She takes a deep breath and steps over the carnage; walking deliberately toward the ruins of Andorhal. A single tear rolls slowly down her cheek.


(written by Kelley)

[Imara]

Revelations and Decisions

“The Crimson Watch…” Liadain muttered as she walked into the Forlorn Cavern, a frown playing across her lips. If the information Celethorn gathered was to be believed, the situation with her real father might be every bit as complicated as she had feared.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she stopped and peered into the shadows. A man slipped smoothly into view and Liadain’s tense expression faded. “Gallows, my friend, how are you?”

Gallows smirked and bowed deeply before stepping forward to kiss her cheek. “I am well. And how is my favorite Blade?”

“I’m making it. Isn’t that always the way?” She smiled. “Come, sit.” She moved over and sat on the steps of The Traveling Fisherman.

Gallows sat next to her and reached out to squeeze her knee. “It often is, but I always hope for better for you, my friend. I have another note from your mother. She continues to improve, though she is still not feeling up to writing on her own.” He deftly slipped a folded parchment out of his tunic pocket and handed it to Lia.

Liadain took the note from him and unfolded it, skimming the words which were written in Gallows’, now familiar, flowing script. She looked up at him. “She still remembers little of how she sustained her wound?”

“Aye. It would seem that she is blissfully unaware of the events that transpired that day. She and my aunt are getting along famously. They are already making all sorts of plans for when your mother is ready to help out around the house.” Gallows flashed her a sardonic grin.

Lia laughed softly. “Thank you again for your help, Gallows. The more I find out about my father, and the threat he may pose, the more I think hiding her out of the line of fire is the best thing we could have done.”

Gallows reached up and mussed her hair playfully. “No need to thank me, girl. I take it you’ve gathered some more information?”

Lia gave him a half-hearted glare as she smoothed her hair. “Aye. Celethorn has confirmed the existence of a cult known as The Crimson Watch, with several powerful Forsaken leaders. Obviously, it’s not too much of a stretch to connect them to my mother’s ravings about a Crimson Lord.” She sighed heavily. “In addition, one of their number, apparently, has been linked to the incident where I was attacked in the Wailing Caverns.”

Gallows’ expression had grown serious and he studied her intently. “You think the Forsaken that came after you could have been your father?”

Lia nodded, looking off. “Perhaps. And, if that’s the case, it probably means he’s already well aware of my activities and whereabouts.”

“So what do you intend to do now?” Gallows asked quietly.

“I… don’t know. The easiest plan, of course, would be to disappear and try to outrun him until he finally catches up to me and I have to face him.” She shook her head. “Or I can continue on as I am now, ever on alert for his next move. Hoping that he doesn’t choose to get to me through those I care about.”

Gallows took her hand and squeezed it. “Though I know how tempting it is to run, you must remember that there is safety in numbers sometimes. You are always trying to protect everyone else, maybe it’s time you let some of us protect you.” He smiled. “Besides, if you were to run off Celethorn would probably do something foolish and die anyway.”

Lia smiled again, in spite of herself, and chuckled. “Aye. I keep telling him that we need to face the world together and here I am considering running away…” She shrugged. “Well then, I suppose all that’s left is to wait and be ever vigilant, eh?”

Gallows nodded and stood slowly, turning to kiss her forehead. “I suppose so, my dear. I’ll continue to keep my ear out for anything that might be of use to you and I’ll continue to make sure that your mother is safe and comfortable. You know, as always, that if you need me you only need to send word and I’ll be here.”

Lia smiled and allowed him to help her to her feet. She nodded. “Thank you again, my friend.”

Gallows bowed deeply and slipped back into the shadows as Lia headed across the Cavern to the Rogue’s Guild, the note from her mother still clutched in her hand.

[Jaen]

((Weee, keep writing! I'm very much fascinated by this story.))

[Caelyn]

((As always Lia, this is yet another wonderful piece. Keep up the wonderful writing))

[Imara]

Identity

The front door slammed into the wall as Liadain stormed into the house. She looked battered and there was blood oozing slowly from a slice in the armor covering her abdomen. She limped across the room to disarm, throwing her swords onto the table, and started unbuckling her chest piece.

“It was him.” She muttered as she gingerly pulled the leather out of the gouge on her side.

“It was who?” Celethorn stood at the foot of the stairs, watching his wife with no small amount of concern.

Liadain looked up, her eyes burning with an odd mixture of fear and anger. “My father.”

She said it with such certainty that Celethorn was unsure how to respond. Liadain began gathering supplies to tend to her wound, but he moved forward and grabbed her hands. “You. Stop. I’ll tend to that. Tell me what happened.”

Liadain reluctantly set the bandages and salves on the table and sat down. Celethorn knelt before her and started cleaning the wound. She exhaled through her teeth and waited for the numbing agents in the salve to dull the pain before she spoke. “The Crimson Watch attacked the tram this evening. Myself and several of the Blades arrived to help in the defense. We were successful at first, but soon their numbers made any real counter-attack almost impossible without more forces.”

Celethorn smirked. “I appreciate the report, Sergeant Major. Now, do you intend to tell me what you meant by it being your father?”

Liadain looked down at her husband and frowned. “He was there, Cele. In the midst of one of our assaults, I saw him. It was the rogue that attacked me in the Caverns… You were right.”

“And how can you be so certain now that he’s your father?” Celethorn kept his focus on Lia’s wound, but she could sense the tension rising within him.

“I could feel it, Cele; like I’ve been feeling all those things in Lordaeron lately.” Lia shuddered involuntarily. “When I saw him and our eyes met… It was like I heard the screaming of a thousand tortured souls.” She swallowed hard. “It was so intense I nearly dropped my swords, so they cut me down and…”

Celethorn looked up from placing bandages, a dark blue glow burning in the depths of his eyes. “And what?”

“And he blew me a kiss as I fell.”

Lia could feel the tremor run through Celethorn as he fought the urge to leap up and go out in search of blood. “He…”

“There’s no sense in chasing after them now.” Lia rose stiffly. “Right now, I need rest and I need you here with me.”

Celethorn rose with her, the blue glow in his eyes much more pronounced. “I’ll kill him.”

Lia smiled ruefully and nodded. “I think that time will come.”

[Imara]

From the Journal of Liadain Greyhame:

I’ve just returned from the Royal Library, where I enlisted the aid of Donyal Tovold in translating the tome that Ragarol gave Celethorn. It appears to be a volume called "The Prophecy of St. Gregarion" and, as we suspected, it contains prophecies of entropy, chaos and the coming reign of this “Crimson Lord.”

I felt sick to my stomach and my head was pounding as he read the words aloud. In truth, I almost felt as I do whenever I encounter my father. It did not help matters that the text so closely echoed the words my mother spoke the day I witnessed her sanity slipping away. I shudder to think how she became so familiar with the Watch’s ideology.

And now, the question I keep asking myself…

How do you fight a foe that thrives on the very bloodshed that would be necessary to defeat them?

[Imara]

Checkmate

Liadain had been slaughtering undead around Andorhal for what seemed like hours and, as usual, it hardly seemed to make a dent in their numbers. New undead relentlessly made their way out from the center of the ruined city to replace their fallen counterparts. The futility of it all was not lost on her; at least they made for good target practice.

Lia sighed heavily, as she climbed up on Cayden’s back, and began the ride around Andorhal to return to Chillwind. She rode into the camp, dismounted and spoke to Officer Pureheart, dumping a pile of Scourgestones at her feet.

“Excellent, Sergeant Major.” Officer Pureheart smiled. “You always do an excellent job for us out here. I’m pleased to find individuals with such dedication to our cause.”

“Well…” Lia stood up and turned back toward Cayden. “I suppose we all have our callings, eh?” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she remounted.

Lia checked her gear. She was due in Stranglethorn shortly to help the Blades in trying to clean out a troll temple, but she decided to make one more pass along the southern edge of Andorhal before heading out. She trotted Cayden up to the edge of the tainted lake and paused.

As usual, the sheer devastation of the ruined city and its inhabitants filled Lia with a deep sense of sadness and loathing. She wished she could make some sense out of the strange sensitivity she felt to this evil. The evil of the Scourge and the chaos and entropy it caused.

A wave of nausea washed over her at that thought. It was as if, suddenly, the pieces fell into place. The chaos, the entropy, the rivers of blood; all were part of the Crimson Watch’s doctrine. The horrible realization that these feelings were probably directly linked to her father’s Crimson Lord shook her deeply.

Perhaps that was why she failed to noticed the two rogues slipping up behind her…

Perhaps that was why she failed to recognize the taint of her father’s presence.