Lost

[Darkblade]

The sun was out, somewhere. The orange glow of the sky over the Plaguelands revealed that. The sun itself, however, could not be seen through the haze.
Destruction lay all about her.
Just south of Stratholme, the Forsaken rogue was embroiled in battle with a large abomination. The forces of the Scourge were strong in this area, so close to their center of operations. Not strong enough, though.
What the Scourge lacked in force, they made up for in numbers. For every undead creature she slew, she knew there would be two to quickly replace it. This was not a war, it was a stalemate. For every kill, though, she felt as if she was getting that much closer to Arthas.
It was he who felled her in her home town of Stratholme. It was he who killed the one man she could have ever loved, right before her eyes. It was he who caused her, and the world, so much pain.
It was he who was so far out of reach. Until the time she could exact payment from him, she would be forced to destroy his minions.

The abomination swung a large scythe held in its right hand through the air, aiming for the rogue's neck. She easily ducked under the slow, but powerful, swing. The beast immediately followed with a vertical chop from it's left arm, hand clutching a razor-sharp chain whip. Darkblade, already crouched from the first swing, rolled to the side to avoid this second attack. The abomation's left arm over extended, she sliced across it with one of her swords.
The creature reeled back, left arm flailing as the previously-connect whip-wielding hand fell to the ground. With a leap, Darkblade vaulted into the airm, reversing the hold on her two swords, and bringing them plunging down into the stiched-together shoulder of the abomination. Stichings ripped, flesh tore. Altering her hold again, she slashed rapidly at a large leg, quickly turning it to tatters.
The large beast stumbled, losing a leg, but stayed upright. It swung again, and Darkblade bent backwards, the creature's weapon passing right before her face. It would have looked like a near miss to an observer, but the rogue had calculated just how far she needed to move to avoid the swing, without getting too far away. She quickly snapped straight again, and shoved one of her swords into the gaping mouth of the beast.
"Taste my blade!"
The abomination focused its eyes on her. Darkblade went to pull her sword out, expecting another swing, but the blade was stuck, partially exiting the back of the creature's skull. A blast of putrid air bellowed from the creature's mouth, but its other limbs stopped moving. The barely attached third arm dropped it's weapon.
The abomination blinked its eyes, and fell backwards, pulling the sword from Darkblade's hand as it went.
A cloud of dust erupted as the abomination fell. Brushing herself off, she moved forward to retrieve her weapon as she heard the sounds of hooves behind her.
Cautiously, she turned slowly. Before her now, she saw four mounted riders. The mounts were like none she had seen before. Skeletal horses, but much more...sinister. The riders, too, looked like nothing she had seen before. These were not Forsaken riders.

"Well played little one, though you seem to have lost something."

Darkblade reached down, grabbing the hilt of her impaled sword, eyes never leaving the four horsemen.

The same rider spoke up again, "Wouldn't you say so, Korth'azz?"

A grunt was all that the speaker received in response from its companion. Darkblade pulled on her sword, finally freeing it from the slain abomination.

Another of the riders was clad in a hooded cloak. A clawed hand reached up, pulling the hood back, revealing long white hair, tangled, now draping about it's shoulders. This one spoke with a voice that was obviously feminine, despite the coarse grating. "She has a fire, indeed."

Darkblade straightened, holding both of her swords out before her. "Who are you?"

The first rider chuckled. "Who we are is not important. Our mission is simple. We have come to cleanse this land."

The female continued, "Cleanse this land of the wicked and wretched."

A third picked up where she left off, "Wicked and wretched souls whom would defy our master."

The forth continued in form, it's voice scarcely more than a raspy whisper, "Defy our master, Kel'Thuzad. We shall purge the living."

The first spoke up again, "We would welcome you back."
"Back to the fold."
"Back to the Scourge."
"Back to the lich king."

Darkblade gritted her teeth. "I don't think so."

The first rider laughed loudly, and then the female spoke, "We weren't asking."
The fourth rider dismounted, and strode toward Darkblade, removing his riding cloak as he moved. He was clad in black armor, with razor sharp blades attached all over. From his back he pulled a large, jagged, two-handed sword. As he held it, the sword seemed to flare to life, an unearthly bluish flame coming from it. With a large overhand motion, he swung at her.

Darkblade deftly dove to the side, rolling and coming back to her feet. Before she had a chance to respond, she was forced to leap backwards out of the way of a strong horizontal swing. Her adversary continued the swing in an arc, and again brought an overhead attack at her. Holding her two swords up, Darkblade went to parry the attack.
The force of the parry shattered her swords and sent her tumbling backwards, stunned.
The armor-clad behemoth moved up close to her. Its raspy voice hissed at her, "No escape."
Recovering, Darkblade thought to escape. She threw a packet of flash powder to the ground, and attempted to dash away.
The first rider, still mounted and watching the spectacle, drew his own large sword from its sheath, and aimed it at the rogue about to flee. A bolt of magical energy shot from the sword to Darkblade. She had thought she'd be untrackable, at least for a few seconds. She was wrong.

Darkblade had never before, neither in her life among the living nor the dead, experienced the horror she now felt. Unable to act, her mind reeling, she froze in place.
Her unexpected shock of horror was replaced by another, when she looked down to see the end of the combatants sword protuding from her chest.
She could feel her life being drawn into the sword.

Then she knew no more.

[Mynikens]

:cry: Nooo!!!

[Kurohane]

D:

[Darkblade]

"Ellenia, we have to leave now!"
She opened her eyes to see the man known as Hawk standing before her, a hand reaching out to her. The door to her cell, was open. Apparantly, he had found a way to get inside the prision and open her door. She reached out to him.
Before their hands could meet, a large abomination appeared behind the man. It grasped him with it's strong hands, lifting him into the air. He struggled in vain, as the creature was simply too powerful to resist. With a venomous grunt, the beast pulled at Hawk's limb. A sickening pop was heard, along with the tearing of flesh.
The young woman watched as the man before her was ripped to pieces.
"Noo!" She called out, arm still reaching out to the hand that was just recently there. She look at her hand, realising it's state of decay. It all came flooding back.
Again.
Behind the abomination stood an image of the undead banshee, leader of the Forsaken, Sylvanas.

Darkblade lost count of how many times she had seen her former love killed before her eyes. Each time was different. Each time the illusion of Sylvanas was present, watching in amusement.

Through her tears, the scene before her changed. She was in a small room, strapped to a table in the center. A pale-skinned humanoid looked down upon her, taking notes on a pad in his hands. Feeling her gaze upon him, he turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with an ominous thud. She was alone again.

Outside the room, a being strode up to the note-taker. His features were partially decayed..not to the state of most undead, but obviously not quite fully "alive", either. He spoke up as he approached. "Progress?"

The other responded, his voice hissing. "Prossseeding on sschedule. Sshe will be broken sssoon."
"Excellent. This one will make an excellent agent to infiltrate the so-called Forsaken's ranks. But we must know for certain she belongs to us again."
"Of courssse, of courssse. I have done thisss before to ssstronger agentsss than her. The combinasshion of the mental asssault along with my toxssin hazss never failed."

The other just chuckled.

[Teelia]

((<3))

[Darkblade]

"Whom do you serve?"
Darkblade winced reflexively. She knew what would follow. She spit out a mouthful of black ichor. "No one."
A razored black metal gauntlet struck her face, powered by the superior strength of the death knight wearing it. She fell, and scrambled across the room.
The death knight's armor clinked as he stalked toward her. Reaching down, he grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air with one arm. "Sylvanas cannot save you now. She doesn't even care. The sooner you learn this, the better for you." The grip on her throat tightened until she heard a crack. Seeing her body go limp, the armored fiend flung the Forsaken rogue across the room into a wall.
All she knew was pain. Her neck was broken, and she could not move her extremeties. Laying in a twisted mess on the floor, she could see the knight walk over to her, and look down upon her. "There is no escape from what you are, undead." With that, he lifted an armor-clad foot into the air, and brought it down on the rogue's face.
Black ichor oozed from her eyes and ears. She could see nothing, and could hear the death knight walking away, though muffled.

"Heal her. We begin again in 15 minutes."
"I don't know why you feel you musst do thisss. Sshe wass breaking."
"And now she is broken. Heal her so I may break her again." A large slam was heard as the door closed.

[Darkblade]

"Is she ready?"
"No, my lord. I need more time. Ssoon."
"There is no more time. The invasion is beginning! If I cannot use her now, she is of no use to me. Destroy her. I don't want her coming back."
"As you wissh."

The pale-skinned being turned away from the death knight, clad in black plate armor. He slunk over to the table in the center of the small cell. Strapped to it was a female undead, barely conscious.
The door slammed as the armored fiend left, leaving doctor and patient alone.
"Ssuch a sshame. You would have had power and ssway over legionss."
Darkblade opened her eyes weakly, attempting to crane her neck so she could look at her captor.
She attempted to speak a witty comeback, but nothing came out.
"Your ussefulnesss hass come to an end, my dear." The pale creature held out a syringe before him, and lightly tapped at it. "Now hold sstill. Thiss will be quite painful, but ssoon your pain will be over...forever."
Saying that, he raised up the needle, and plunged it into Darkblade's chest. Instantly, a burning started inside of her, which quickly spread to her extremeties. It felt as if she was being burned alive, though there was no fire to be seen.
She screamed out in agony. A grayish smoke began to eminate from her body. Whatever he injected into her was killing her. More than that, it was destroying her, physically. Should a spirit be separated from the body, if there is no body to return to the spirit can never rejoin the living.
There would be no resurrection this time; this was going to be permanent.

Despite the pain, she thought of a plan.

Her eyes closed. Giving in to oblivion. She lost this battle, and fighting more was pointless. She gave up all the hatred, all the vengeance, all her desire for continuing in her undead form. There was nothing for her in this life, nothing worth fighting for. Everything dies at its time, and this time was hers. The pain receded. Everything went to white. A voice called to her.

Shapes began to form out of the whiteness, forming into figures of gray. Blinking her eyes, she saw a spirit healer before her.
Her plan had partially worked. She had given herself over to death. She had allowed herself to die before she normally would have...before her body was completely destroyed. Now, she had a chance to return to her body and be reborn, free of the poison destroying it.
But did she want to, now that she could?

She gave up all her desires to make the transition. Now here she was, with a chance to go back again, but she had no desire to. Nothing to tempt her. Not even her desire for vengeance, which had at times been the only thing which pushed her to continue.

She did not desire to go back.

A voice called from the light. "Ellenia. Come to me, my child. I still need you."

In the prison cell, the pale-skinned humanoid looked at the still corpse of the Forsaken rogue. The flesh was still smoldering. Soon, it would be little more than a pile of ash on the table. He had delivered the final rest to many captured Forsaken, this one was no different.
He was actually surprised how quickly this one died. They usually struggle and scream longer.
Disappointing, really.
His disappointment ended quickly, and was replaced with surprise. In an instant, the corpse of Darkblade disintegrated (ahead of schedule, mind you), and then suddenly she was standing on the table, bereft of any clothing.
The naked Forsaken female made no aggressive movement. She simply closed her eyes, and spoke "The Lady has saved me. Again."
Darkblade could feel a tingling sensation across her body, and soon thereafter she disappeared, leaving a stunned Scourge scientist behind.

[Darkblade]

"It should never have happened that way...in fact it didn't."
"I do not...understand."
"Don't you see? It didn't happen that way, but it has happened that way!"
"You bore me with your nonsensical tripe. It happened; it's done, and over."
The small Gnomish figure paced frantically. "No, no, no. It didn't happen. I saw what happened, and it wasn't that. But now it has!"
"...if that is all, I shall be on my way...there are Scourge to slay."
"Priest! There is a scripted line of action that history takes. Think of it as...our future has already been written out. But then someone, or something, erases a chapter in the middle of it, and writes a new one instead."
"So you are saying that someone went back in time and changed history?"
The small figure looked embarrassed. "It would not be the first time it happened. Our flight perseveres, but we can not be everywhen."
"Your...flight?"
The Gnomish figure waved a hand in front of the Forsake priest standing there, inside a pristine room in the middle of a ruined building, inside of the destroyed town of Andorhal. "Details...details which are not important and cannot change things. But we can, yes, we can change things. But first...I need some time pieces.


In the Apothecarium of the Undercity, the alchemists were stumped at the condition of the Forsaken rogue recently entrusted to their care. Weeks before, she had been summoned here by one of the many resident warlocks, upon direction from Sylvannas. Upon arriving, the naked female had simply sighed contentedly, and then collapsed. Since then, no attempt to awaken her had met with success. The collective gathering of the priests housed in the Undercity could not heal her, for in fact she was not harmed. Even some visiting druids had no success in awakening her from the slumber she was in.
Now, it was up to the alchemists.


The shadowy Forsaken priest climbed the stairs in the broken building and turned the corner. A Scourge ghoul stood before him, like so many he had encountered throughout the city of Andorhal. He glared at the creature, focusing his mind on it.
The creature charged, but at a slow pace. The priest's mental assault begun already, the effects were being shown as the Mind Flay did it's damage. As the creature neared, the priest began another spell, and directly assaulted the nerve center of the ghoul. Something inside it's head "popped", and then it fell to the floor with a "thud." Looking down, the priest could see the face of the ghoul actually starting to melt.
With a pleased smirk, he strode over the corpse to the room in the back of the building, where a small Gnome was particularly happy to see him.

"I didn't remember you taking so long, but at least you are here now!"
"Indeed. I have the time pieces you requested. A small trial, really."
"Oh, the much larger trial is to come! You have to go fix things!"
The undead cocked his head. "Fix things? I thought I was done here."
"Oh, no no no, no! We cannot interfere in the flowings of time, but we are..allowed..to um...help others...push them back to where they belong. To fix that which was broken, of course!" She said that last statement in such a way as if she was trying to make herself believe it.
"And all this over one rogue? She is this important?"
"And who judges importance? Are you important? Am I? Only time will tell. And me..I can tell. No, you wouldn't find her important by your own basis, but there is an importance there, you just haven't had the chance to see it yet. Or perhaps you won't. Regardless, the timeline has been changed, and you will fix it."
"What if I refuse?"
"You didn't, so don't bother asking. Do not forget that I already have seen what you will choose, and when. Though perhaps not why, but that is for others to decide. I just see what happens and when. And when it does not. Or what doesn't happen and when the doesn't doesn't happen. Or..."
"Enough! What do I need to do?"
"Well, I can't just send you to the Caverns..oh no, that would not be proper. The Keeper would not approve of that, or this. I know! They will be opening soon..you can go then!"
"...I thought you were in a hurry?"
With that, the Gnome winked, and then motioned for the priest to come closer. The Forsaken priest knelt down, and the Gnome touched him on the forehead, and then giggled.
Looking confused, he stood back up again, and shook his head.
"Ok, quickly now, you must go!"
"Go where? I thought I could not go anywhere for some time."
"Indeed, and that time has passed. You have been here for three of your months, and now you must go! No more dilly-dallying!"
The priest sighed in grudging acceptance. "I do not like you."
This caused the Gnome standing before him to bust out in laughter. "You will change your tune at the end of this! Now off, to the Caverns of Time with you! Oh, and do not tell anyone else of your mission. Especially Anachronos. This is a secret, shhhh."
The priest just shook his head. "And what am I to do when I get to these caverns in Tanaris?"
"The note in your robe's pocket will explain it all. Now hurry, before it becomes too late!"
He reached down, and sure enough, there was a note in his pocket which previously was not there.
"Do not open it until you are inside though!"
Shaking his head again, he turned and headed outside. He hoped to himself that this was worth it.

[Ellsbeth]

((Hanging on the edge of the next chapter... Woo to Darkblade not succumbing to the evil ssss fellow. Can't wait for more!))

[Darkblade]

The trip to Tanaris was uneventful for the Forsaken shadow priest. He landed just outside Gadgetzan in the middle of a sandstorm.
Sand, powered by the violent winds, stung his flesh as he progressed through the desert. A group of raiders decided the sole priest would be an easy target, and soon found the error in their decision. Checking the final corpse's pockets for spare change, the shadow priest continued on to the Caverns buried beneath the Eastern sands.
Outside of the cave entrance, once guarded by dragons, now a melee ensued. The forces of the alliance and horde clashed, with some simply running for the cave opening, hoping to find security within.
A surprised Dwarf, fleeing the battle, stopped short before the un-holy Forsaken. He raised a clawed hand toward the diminutive figure, and the tell-tale beam a blue light appeared, the result of a direct mental attack by the priest. Within seconds, the Dwarf crumpled to the ground.
Throwing a protective shield around himself, he ran through the middle of the fray and let out a Pyschic Scream, scattering the Alliance in his way.
Not stopping to finish off any more, he rushed inside the cave entrance, and down the spiralling passage.

The colors assaulted him at first. The rock walls of the cave were tinted purple from some hidden source of light. Odd buildings stood on the sides of the cave in places. Also, some sides of the caves were open, showing a swirling vortex of stars and asteroids beyond. Never had he experienced anything so...other-worldly.
Briefly taken back from the sights before him, the priest recomposed himself and remebered that not only was he on a mission, he was also in the middle of a war zone. He saw a Gnome nearby, also taken back from the imagery. Apparantly a mage, judging from the equipment, he turned and looked at the shadow priest. Expecting a battle, the Forsaken was surprised to see the Gnome wave, and then trot off down the cave further. He let this little one leave.

Reaching into the robe in his pocket, he retrieved the note left by the enigmatic Chromie.

"The path before you is open. Pass through and into the past. Correct what is wrong, and you shall return."

As he read the words on it, part of the caverns to his side started to crumble, leaving a new passage opening. Folding the note and returning it to his pocket, the priest stepped into the opening...

[Darkblade]

(months earlier)

The sun was out, somewhere. The orange glow of the sky over the Plaguelands revealed that. The sun itself, however, could not be seen through the haze.
Destruction lay all about her.
Just south of Stratholme, the Forsaken rogue was embroiled in battle with a large abomination.
The battle raged. Finally, the rogue shoved one of her swords into the gaping mouth of the beast.
"Taste my blade!"
The abomination focused its eyes on her. Darkblade went to pull her sword out, expecting another swing, but the blade was stuck, partially exiting the back of the creature's skull. A blast of putrid air bellowed from the creature's mouth, but its other limbs stopped moving. The barely attached third arm dropped it's weapon.
The abomination blinked its eyes, and fell backwards, pulling the sword from Darkblade's hand as it went.
A cloud of dust erupted as the abomination fell. Brushing herself off, she moved forward to retrieve her weapon as she heard the sounds of hooves behind her.
Cautiously, she turned slowly. Before her now, she saw four mounted riders. The mounts were like none she had seen before. Skeletal horses, but much more...sinister. The riders, too, looked like nothing she had seen before. These were not Forsaken riders.

"Well played little one, though you seem to have lost something."

Darkblade reached down, grabbing the hilt of her impaled sword, eyes never leaving the four horsemen.

The same rider spoke up again, "Wouldn't you say so, Korth'azz?"

A grunt was all that the speaker received in response from its companion. Darkblade pulled on her sword, finally freeing it from the slain abomination.

Another of the riders was clad in a hooded cloak. A clawed hand reached up, pulling the hood back, revealing long white hair, tangled, now draping about it's shoulders. This one spoke with a voice that was obviously feminine, despite the coarse grating. "She has a fire, indeed."

Darkblade straightened, holding both of her swords out before her. "Who are you?"

The first rider chuckled. "Who we are is not important. Our mission is simple. We have come to cleanse this land."

The female continued, "Cleanse this land of the wicked and wretched."

A third picked up where she left off, "Wicked and wretched souls whom would defy our master."

The forth continued in form, it's voice scarcely more than a raspy whisper, "Defy our master, Kel'Thuzad. We shall purge the living."

The first spoke up again, "We would welcome you back."
"Back to the fold."
"Back to the Scourge."
"Back to the lich king."

Darkblade gritted her teeth. "I don't think so."

The first rider laughed loudly, and then the female spoke, "We weren't asking."
The fourth rider dismounted, and strode toward Darkblade, removing his riding cloak as he moved. He was clad in black armor, with razor sharp blades attached all over. From his back he pulled a large, jagged, two-handed sword. As he held it, the sword seemed to flare to life, an unearthly bluish flame coming from it. With a large overhand motion, he swung at her.

Darkblade deftly dove to the side, rolling and coming back to her feet. Before she had a chance to respond, she was forced to leap backwards out of the way of a strong horizontal swing. Her adversary continued the swing in an arc, and again brought an overhead attack at her. Holding her two swords up, Darkblade went to parry the attack.
The force of the parry shattered her swords and sent her tumbling backwards, stunned.
The armor-clad behemoth moved up close to her. Its raspy voice hissed at her, "No escape."
Recovering, Darkblade thought to escape. She threw a packet of flash powder to the ground, and attempted to dash away.
The first rider, still mounted and watching the spectacle, drew his own large sword from its sheath, and aimed it at the rogue about to flee. A bolt of magical energy shot from the sword to Darkblade. She had thought she'd be untrackable, at least for a few seconds. She was wrong.

Darkblade had never before, neither in her life among the living nor the dead, experienced the horror she now felt. Unable to act, her mind reeling, she froze in place.
Her unexpected shock of horror was replaced by another, when she looked down to see the end of the combatants sword protuding from her chest.
She could feel her life being drawn into the sword.

Figuring this was the end, she was shocked to feel the warmth of life again. A yellowish aura surrounded her as the greater spell of healing took effect.

The four horsemen all turned to see another Forsaken standing nearby...a priest.
The leader of the four spoke up. "What is this? Another conscript returning?"
Feeling the eyes of these four powerful riders looking at him, the priest uttered a very quiet expletive. "Darkblade, this way!"
Feeling renewed from the priest's healing spell, Darkblade pushed off, and tumbled backwards. In an instant, she was up and dashing toward the priest. As she ran, she noticed an odd shimmering portal behind him.
The horseman yelled, "What? No! Stop them! Destroy them!"
The three mounted ones charged toward the priest.

The priest took a couple of steps backward, seeing the horsemen charging. He also saw the rogue running toward him. "Through the portal, quickly!"
Darkblade neared the portal and saw a protective shield pop up around her. She dove past the motioning priest into the portal. Unsure of exactly what she would find on the other end, she knew it had to be better than what was behind her.
The priest watched as Darkblade dove through the portal and disappeared. With that, he turned and followed her through. As he passed through the shimmering portal, it vanished from existence in the Eastern Plaguelands, leaving the four horsemen alone.

[Darkblade]

The Gnome girl jumped and giggled in excitement as the two Forsaken entered her room. "It's about time you got here!"

Both the rogue and priest made the trip back to Andorhal from the Caverns of Time, where they found themselves again after passing back through the portal. The priest explained to Darkblade, as best he could, the events leading to his rescue of her months in the past. Darkblade accepted it all, but had one question for Chromie: Why?

"I know what you're going to ask," the Gnome said to Darkblade.
"I'm sure you do," the rogue replied. "But I still have to ask it, right?"
The Gnome nodded in response.
"Why? Why all this trouble for me? Do I have some importance to come?"
The Gnome sighed slightly. "No. Not really. More like your capture caused ripples which could not be allowed to continue. The only way to prevent the pond from being disturbed is to remove the rock causing the ripples. That rock was you."
Darkblade glanced to the priest. "That's a cheery thought."
The priest turned to Chromie. "So are we done here?"
The Gnome smiled. "Oh, we are never done. But this task is done...for now at least."
The two Forsaken exchanged glances. Darkblade spoke up, "For now?"
Chromie giggled. "Whenever a change is made, only time will tell what effects it will have. Even though history was put back on track, the original cause of the original change still eludes me, so this might have only been a temporary fix. As such, I cannot see what or when or how things might change in this regard until they do. So yes, for now this task is done."

"Darkblade, I am glad you have returned to us in your proper form. Verzhud, I am glad you met with success." The Gnome turned back to Darkblade. "People may ask where you've been all this time, as it has been several months in their timeline since the rescue and the current time. Just tell them...you've been away."

With that, the two Forsaken turned and started to walk out of Chromie's well-kept room, in the burned-out inn of Andorhal.
"What kind of a name is Verzhud, anyway?"
"Are you kidding? What kind of a name is 'Darkblade'? Ooh, look at me and my dark blades."
"Shut it, priest."
"Make me, rogue."