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About Terich

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  1. ((I wanted to post this MONTHS ago, and I should have. This explains what happened to Kargron in the first place and why he's acting so differently. But I never managed to finish it, until recently. So, uh, remember that it takes place several months ago in character. This ain't a current event.)) ((Oh, and sorry about the length.)) It was not possible to fully escape conflict while remaining on Draenor. No matter where one might turn, sooner or later one would find oneself embroiled in battle, if not against the Iron Horde, then against one of the various beasts or predators that inhabited the savage world. Then there were the fanatical, demon-crazed followers of Gul'Dan to contend with. And that was to say nothing of the never ending conflict between the Alliance and the Horde. It seemed as though this war might never end. But though the battle may seem eternal, it was possible to find moments of peace and respite, if one desired it enough. Or perhaps, in this particular case, it would be better said as "if one were desperate enough." Once again, Kargron found himself in Shadowmoon Valley, the land that he felt drawn to ever since he had stepped through the portal. The land that had once been his home, in another life. He found it much easier to clear his head here. The world around him just seemed to slip away, and he could meditate on whatever he wished. The orc had been impressed by the sense of calm that he had felt while in this particular secluded location, nestled deep within the valley. Of course, that was the reason he had chosen this location in the first place. A gentle stream lay nearby, the water lapping at the soft earth. There was a faint breeze blowing through the trees, rustling the leaves and creating a soothing noise as it passed over the grass. Everything about the scene spoke of peace. Tranquility. Beauty. And there, in the middle of it all sat Kargron, cross legged in the grass with his head bowed. His eyes were closed, his body motionless. He was only wearing a simple harness, a few thin leather strips loosely tied together, common amongst the warriors of his people, though not something that he would wear under most occasions. He preferred the familiar comfort of the metal armor that he usually clad himself in. In fact, he preferred wearing heavy protection regardless of whether he was preparing for battle or not, removing it only when he chose to rest, and perhaps on a handful of other occasions. While in part this was due to his belief in eternal vigilance, he truly felt more comfortable while in armor than not. But this situation was different. He needed to be free of all physical burdens in order for this to work. To feel the breeze on his face, the soft earth under his feet. To leave behind all that he was, at least for a few moments. This would be the deepest meditaiton that he had ever achieved. It had to work. He was running out of options. Kargron took a deep breath, furrowing his brow with concentration. The old orc had seen countless battles, enough conflict to last several life times. He had never run from battle unless he had been specifically ordered to do so. He had never slowed in a charge no matter how greatly he was outnumbered. He was and always had been a proud warrior of the Horde, eager for any chance to bring honor and glory to a worthy cause. He was a veteran of all three of the Great Wars, and had never even once known fear. Until now. Here he was, fleeing for the first time in his life. Bad enough that he had fled, but worse at what he had left behind. He was a coward, a deserter. He had abandoned his brothers and sisters of the Sanctuary. He had abandoned his duties, everything that he had believed in. He had failed, not only the Sancutary, but himself. His own ideals. And he had fled without a word, not letting anyone know either of his departure or his destination. Gritting his teeth, Kargron shook his head, attempting to dispell the negative thoughts. They would not help him now. He needed to be clear-headed. To be at peace. Control. He needed control. There was no war. There was no battle. Only peace. The sound of the river. The wind. The birds. The sound of his own breath. Nothing more. Nothing more. Peace.... Peace.... Peace.... ..................... There was nothing. Nothing at all. He waited patiently, allowing the seconds to tick by. Seconds turned into minutes, and still nothing. Time continued to pass, and still nothing. He'd gone longer than he'd ever gone before. Kargron let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He'd done it. He had purified himself. He allowed a slight smile to creep across his face. He'd won! What are you so happy about, hmm? No. Is this a bad time? You're sitting here in the middle of nowhere doing absolutely nothing, and you know, I just assumed you weren't busy. No! It couldn't be! He had done everything right, it wasn't possible. He had control! Or are you still refusing to accept the truth of my words? Kargron lowered his head, clasping his face with his hands, shaking his head back and forth. It was back. The voice had returned. It sounded just as it had every time he had heard it in the past. Filled with a dark foreboding, malice, and cold evil. Venom dripped off of every word. And yet he could do nothing to stop it. He gave audible voice to his inner doubts. "I have failed." Of course you failed. I'm a part of you. Always have been. Or is your memory really so poor? Baring his teeth, Kargron snarled, whipping his head from left to right. "You are NOT a part of me!" So eager to fight. It's the only thing you know, isn't it? A low growl emitted from deep in Kargron's throat. He felt a surge of violent emotions swelling within him. He wanted to tear the speaker apart, rip him limb from limb. But how could he face an opponent that he could not see? Yes, eager for battle. And yet....a coward. Fleeing the moment you first heard my voice, abandoning all that you knew. Such a shame. I had thought you made of stronger stuff. But oh well, I suppose appearances can be deceiving. Kargron bared his teeth, clasping both of his hands to his forehead. He didn't just hear the voice now. He could feel something, something in his head. Something that wasn't supposed to be there. A presence that felt very wrong. "Get out, demon! Leave me!" Demon? I am no mere demon. Oh no. I am so. Much. More. Grunting, Kargron staggered forward, lifting his arms just in time to catch himself from planting his face into the mud. His breath came out in ragged gasps as pain shot through his chest. Oh yes...I know you. I know your secrets. I know everything about you. You and I...we're so similar. "We...are...not....the same!" Kargron snarled. He was panting for breath, and it seemed like he just couldn't get enough air. I know your innermost secrets. The voice continued on, ignoring him. Oh yes....let's look inside, shall we? See who you really are. Incredible pain seemd to shoot through his entire body. Kargron threw his head back and screamed, his voice echoing throughout the valley. He was fortunate he was in such an isolated part of Shadowmoon, or else someone might come looking for him. Of course, he didn't fear for himself. He feared for the sake of whatever it was that might find him. What he might do to them. He couldn't control himself. Not like this. Let's see what's in there..... Images flashed through Kargron's mind, he couldn't shut them out. Visions of places that he had been before, familiar faces. Yes....you want what I do...oh yes.... Kargron fell forward, only barely able to prop himself above the ground using one of his elbows. He continued to pant heavily, unable to control his breathing. Suddenly, he wasn't doubled over in pain anymore. He wasn't near a peaceful brook in Shadowmoon Valley. He wasn't even sure if he was still on Draenor. He could barely see anything, it was too dark. An icy wind tore at his face, forcing him to lift up one of his hands in order to cover himself. He could hear the wind howling all around him. Looking down, he could just see well enough to make out the solid sheet of snow beneath him. Wherever he was, he seemed to be caught in the middle of a blizzard. The voice had fled him, for now. He couldn't sense it's presence, couldn't hear it echoing through his head. This fact provided some relief for the orc, though it was short lived. He soon realized that he still didn't have his armor with him, wearing nothing more than the harness in the freezing cold. Of course, this fact didn't bother him, as being a Death Knight, he rarely felt the cold anymore, no matter how intense it might be. Except.... Kargron blinked his eyes as the howling winds ripped at his face. He was feeling something entirely unfamiliar, something he hadn't experienced in ages. He was cold. He could feel the chill spreading into his bones. He could feel his extremities all going numb, one by one. He had to escape the freezing weather, and quickly. As stunned as he was by the fact that he was now experiencing a sensation that should be impossible for him, he was a practical orc. He needed to find shelter before freezing to death. Peering forward, Kargron thought he could catch the faintest glimpse of a light shining from up ahead, through the storm. Gritting his teeth, he stumbled forward. The snow and ice was already reaching up to his knees. Everything below his waist was completely numb, and he couldn't feel his arms either. The storm raged so fiercely that he could scarcely make out where he was going. He continued to press forward, hoping that he was still heading for the light. As he moved on, he could make out the silhouette of structures. A wall, covered in ice. Buildings all buried in snow, just the tops of the huts visible. There were no signs of life, everything was buried in a sheet of white. Stumbling against one of the buildings, his hands somehow managed to get caught in some kind of banner. Despite the overwhelming cold, he studied it for a few moments. Though most of it was covered in ice, he could just barely make out a few pieces of a golden crest atop a purple cloth. Sanctuary, he thought to himself. He was in Sanctuary's garrison. "Kargron?" A voice somehow reached him, piercing through the shrieking of the wind. Looking up, he could just make out a thin figure standing in the doorway of a building ahead of him. It was the Command Center of Sanctuary's garrison. That must have been where he had seen the light coming from. He couldn't tell who it was that was calling him, but he supposed it didn't really matter. He had to make his way there. Or otherwise freeze to death. Somehow, he managed to stumble his way to the entrance of the Command Center. Pulling himself through the door way, he gasped as he felt the heat pouring over him. The contrast between the freezing cold of the outside world mixed with the warmth flooding over him at the entrance filled him with pain, causing his breath to come out in a ragged gasp. Shuddering, he managed to grab hold of the large door that guarded the entrance of the building, using all his strength to bring the door shut. The wind howled and protested, threatening to rip the wood from his fingers. Finally, he managed to seal the room off from the outside world, the door closing with a loud "Click." The old orc stood still for a few moments, allowing his large frame to rest against the massive door. The wind screamed outside, it's howls only faintly audible through the door, now sounding very distant and far away. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding as he felt the warmth surround and consume him, chasing away any lingering chill on or in his body. His thoughts were a whirlwind of chaos and confusion. Where had that storm come from? The nights in Frostwolf territory could be brutal, but he'd never experienced anything like that before. And even if he had, why had it felt so intense? He couldn't remember feeling anything like that in so long that..... Kargron shook his head, his breath finally stablilizing. No, he couldn't remember such a time. It had been that long. What was going on here? "Are you alright?" Whirling around, Kargron reflexively reached for the axe that was strapped to his back. It took him a moment to comprehend that he was looking at a friend, not a foe. There, standing in front of the fire, was the Commander, Julilee. She was looking at Kargron with one eyebrow tilted upward. Her hands were a few inches above the fire. Evidently, she too was affected by the cold. "Commander." Kargron gave the elf a curt nod, pleased to see a friendly face. "Forgive me. I am a bit....confused." Julilee gave him a light smile, shaking her head. "It's alright. I am simply glad you are well." With that, she turned away from him, thoughtfully studying a map of Draenor that was in the center of the room. Kargron stared at the Commander for a few moments, silent. There was something wrong. Something very wrong. He couldn't figure out what it was, not at first. Something was stirring in him, something he didn't recognize. Something powerful. He found himself turning his head from left to right, taking a quick survey of the room around him. There was no one else there, all of the guards and advisors had long since retired. It must be the dead of night. They were alone together. Without even really thinking about it, Kargron took a step closer to Julilee. As he did so, he stared downward at his legs, confused. Why was he moving forward? He wasn't trying to. He had no reason to. Then, glancing back up, he found himself staring once more at Julilee's back-side. And the feeling came to him again. He took another step forward, and another. He wasn't wearing his heavy armor, so he was much quieter than he might otherwise have been. The Commander had no idea what he was doing, completely absorbed in the map that she was studying. His breathing began to grow unsteady. He had never seen the Commander in this light before. The fire in the center of the room flickered and cast it's glow on her, illuminating the features of her face, it's warm light reflecting off of her armor. She looked.....desirable. More than that. He wanted her. He NEEDED her. With a growl, he surged forward. The commander must have heard him, as she turned to him, still with a soft smile on her face. It was replaced with a frown when she saw what he was doing. Her hand reached for her weapon, but it was far too late. Kargron slammed into her with enough force to lift her off the ground, his large hand curling around her neck, lifting her up into the air and slamming her against the nearby wall. He couldn't control himself anymore. The desire was too strong. She clutched at his hand, trying desperately to pry him off, but his grip was far too strong. Her struggles ignited an inferno within him, giving rise to excitement and feelings that had been buried inside of him for so long. Her every gasp for breath, the frantic squirming of her body in a vain attempt to break free, her eyes filled with terror of what was to come.... Kargron had never found anything so alluring in his life. He leaned forward, his mouth just inches from hers...... And then he realized what he was doing. "NOOOOO!" Kargron screamed, releasing the elf from his grip. She immediately fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. Breathing heavily, he stared at his hands with horror, as if they were responsible for what he had done. He took several steps back, then dropped to his knees, clutching his hands to his face in horror. "Commander, I....I am sorry! Forgive me!" Kargron didn't know what he expected the Commander to do. Perhaps she would berate him. Perhaps she would order him to leave Sanctuary, never to return. Or perhaps she would simply run him through, finally sending him to the end that he deserved, now more than ever. He did not, however, expect her to start laughing. "What's the matter, Kargron?" She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, offering him a lop-sided smile. "Afraid to take what you want?" "No..." Kargron rose to his feet, backing away. "What....what is this?" "Oh, Kargron....won't you show me what a real orc can do?" She laughed again, walking toward him. Every step she took, he took a step back. "What's the matter? Are you afraid of a little elf like me?" The orc continued to back away until he felt something hard behind him. Turning his head, he realized that the door had somehow been shut. He was trapped. "We could have had something together, you know. But you lied to yourself." Julilee was talking to him. She had stopped just a few feet away. She pulled out her sword and ran her fingers gently along it's edge. "You just can't take what you want, you deny yourself everything." Her gaze locked with his, and she smiled. "Fortunately, at least one of us isn't so....afraid." With that, she lunged forward, arcing her blade in a vicious horizontal slice, aiming for his neck. But Kargron wasn't about to wait around for the sword to find it's mark. He dove to the side, so narrowly avoiding the blade's arc that he could feel the displacement of air as she missed him, hear the sound of the blade slicing where he had been just a moment ago. He rolled across the floor and leapt to his feet, whirling around and facing the Commander. "You've failed the Sanctuary, Kargron." She leveled her sword at his chest, pointing at him with her blade. "The punishment is death." Kargron stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "You are not the Commander." He raised his hand over his shoulder, reaching for his weapon, but then stopped, slowly withdrawing his hand. "This is another vision. Fighting you is pointless." "I may be a vision, but....I can still draw blood." She lunged forward once more swinging her blade toward him. He attempted to get out of the way, but she moved a little quicker than she did last time. He felt the blade glance against his arm, and he winced in pain, still putting some distance between himself and the Commander. She didn't move again, remaining where she was and watching him with a bemused smile on her face. He stared at her for a moment, then looked down. His arm had been grazed, and was now dripping with blood. The pain felt VERY real. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt pain like this, even with wounds far more grievous. His condition as a death knight made him far less susceptible to such things. "Want to fight back now?" Julilee asked him, lowering her sword and shrugging her shoulders. "Or are you just afraid to hit a girl?" She laughed at that. It was her voice. This thing looked exactly like the Commander. It's movements were graceful like hers. It even matched her tone and expressions. But what she said, and how she said it, were nothing like the Commander Kargron knew. Grimacing, he reached for his axe, knowing what he had to do. "I knew it," she prattled on, evidently oblivious to what he was doing. "You're a coward, just like I tho...." Her sentence was interrupted when Kargron drew his axe, then in one bound, leaped toward her and thrust it forward, embedding the weapon into her stomach. The elf simply stared downward, mouth agape at the massive weapon buried inside her, then looked up at Kargron. And then she laughed. A horrible, twisted cackle. It no longer sounded anything like Julilee. The voice shifted, changing into something much, much darker, and yet, to Kargron, oddly familiar as well. "So you're finally ready to fight?" The voice laughed again "That's good. But let me give you something a little more....fun." With that, "her" face contorted and twisted before Kargron's very eyes. Her flesh appeared to liquify, her eyes melting into a thick boiling goop before rolling out of their sockets. Her entire body was wracked with convulsions, her body soon having almost no features left besides a basic shape and outline. Kargron stared at the thing for a moment, wondering what to make of it. Then, without warning, the thing seemed to explode, sending Kargron flying backward. He struck one of the walls, causing the whole building to shudder with the force before he tumbled to the floor below. The blow was strong enough to disorient him, at least for a moment. His vision was all blurry, and he shook his head back and forth to clear his head. When at last the room stopped spinning long enough for him to clamber back up to his feet, his eyes were greeted by a new form waving at him. Kexti. "If you're going to fight something, why not fight someone that you hate?" Kexti chuckled, then took a swig of the vial he was holding. He swirled the concotion around in his mouth for a bit, then made a pleased "Ahhh" sound after swallowing, looking at Kargron with a grin. "Come on, we both know you want to smash my face in. Give in to it!" Kargron stared, caught completely off guard for a moment. Then, after recovering his senses, he shook his head. "I do not....hate....Kexti." "You hesitated! You lie!" "No...." Kargron refuted him. "I do not hate him. That is....that is not true." "Well...hate is an awfully strong word." Kexti nodded in acceptance, his smile fading. Then, he looked directly at Kargron, a spark of excitment in his eyes. "But you don't like him, do you? You resent him. You resent all he's done, you resent the fact that he's so powerful, yet he's merely an elf. You resent his philosophy, his views, and deep down...." Kexti paused dramatically, to emphasize his point. Then he narrowed his gaze in Kargron's direction, a haughty look on his features before he continued. "....you think he looks down on you. That he regards you as a simple minded orc warrior with absolutely no need for brains when he has brawn. Isn't that right?" Kargron stared back at Kexti, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly. He wanted to shout at the elf, deny it completely. But the painful fact was that there was some truth to his words. He didn't like Kexti. And it was unnerving just how accurate this....other Kexti's analysis of him was. "He's right to do so, you know. You ARE an inferior mongrel that....." Kexti never got to finish his sentence. Roaring, Kargron was upon him, swinging his fists at the elf as hard as he could. Kexti didn't even try to dodge, simply accepting the blow as it came, getting knocked to the floor. Kargron dove on top of him, kneeling on the elf's chest, then started beating the elf with both fists, swinging with all his might. Between blows, Kexti simply laughed at him. It didn't take long for his face to be a bloody pulp, and his laughter became more strained as his throat became choked with blood. Still Kargron could not stop. His rage had consumed him completely, he would break this elf in two. When Kargron finally stopped, the elf wasn't making any noise anymore. His face was little more than a bloody stain beneath him. Kargron panted heavily, leaning back as the rage finally let go of him. It was when he started to rise to his feet that Kexti made his move. In a motion so quick so as to compare to a lightning bolt, he struck Kargron's face with his fist with far more force than the elf's meagre frame implied possible. Kargron reeled backward, spinning around. His lower lip split open from the blow. He whirled back to face the challenger, roaring in challenge of his attacker. Only to find himself face to face with Kanda. She smiled sweetly at him, then took a step forward, her hips swaying ever so slightly. He was so in shock at the change that he coulnd't react, simply staring at her as she approached. She never said a word as she approached him, never made a sound. Her arms came around his waist and she pulled herself close, then grabbed hold of the back of his head and pulled him downward, locking her lips with his in a passionate kiss. She pulled away, licking at his ear before murmuring "You want me, don't you? It's a secret that you'll never tell anyone....not even me...." Kargron couldn't do anything. His mind screamed at him that this was a trap, that this was some kind of trick. He needed to do something, get her away from him. Yet his body wouldn't listen. Perhaps there was truth to this. Kanda was a fine orcess, both beautiful and strong. She would be a fine mate. But Kargron would never admit this to anyone, not even to himself. "I....do not deserve you." He whispered. Despite his words, he could feel his body reacting the woman. Her warmth, her nearness to him. It awakened emotions, desires that he didn't even know that he had anymore. "But...I.....I do." He breathed. "I want you." "Good." She smiled at him. There was something off about the smile. Something sinister. Then he felt a sharp pain in his back. He gasped, then lurched forward. She darted away, holding two daggers in her hands, sticky with his own blood. "Wh....what...?" Kargron asked, confused. "You're too old. And you're so stuck on tradition!" The orcess rolled her eyes before continuing, admiring the bloody knives that she held in her hands. "And you're just waiting to die. So I'm going to grant your wish!" With a smile, she lunged toward him, brandishing her weapons. But Kargron wasn't about to simply wait for death to claim him. Despite the immense pain he was in, he darted forward, grabbing hold of her wrists and squeezing with all her might. She gasped in pain, the daggers dropping from her hands. He seemed to have the upper hand now. A flash of anger crossed her face. Lightning filled the sky, which should have been impossible, since they had been indoors the whole time. Kargron looked up, momentarily distracted. They weren't indoors anymore. They were in the field that he had been in before this whole thing began. In all likelihood, he had never left. He'd probably been here the entire time, and all of this had been in his head. He turned his attention back to his foe. And he found himself staring into the face of death itself. He was holding the wrists of a skeleton, the skull just inches away from his face, grinning fiercely. There was a dark red energy emanating from the eye sockets. A vaguely familiar energy. Cackling, the skeleton suddenly unleashed a blast of dark energy from it's fingers, striking Kargron squarely in the chest. He stumbled backward, screaming in pain. It felt like clawed hands were ripping through his stomach and guts, shredding his insides. The pain was almost too much to bear. He managed to look up just in time to see the skeleton barreling down on him. He held up his hands in order to block, and it slammed into him, their hands locking together in a struggle for dominance. He dug his feet into the earth, desperate to hold his ground, but the skeleton was too strong. He was being pushed backward, ever so slightly, being overpowered. This was more than a simple physical competition. He could feel the energy being drained from him, feel his consciousness ebbing away. He roared in fury and pain, making one last desperate attempt to gain control. For a brief moment, it seemed to work. The skeleton's advance stopped. The thing was silent for a moment. And then it spoke, in a voice forged of darkest of nightmares, echoing in his mind. "Fool...I served Gul'Dan. I am one of the original Death Knights! You.....are......NOTHING!" Kargron felt himself being overcome. Darkness surrounded him, and he felt his very soul being consumed by the entity. This was the end. He had been defeated. And yet, as the darkness finally claimed him, he realized that he was not regretful for his own defeat, for that meant little. He would have welcomed death. Rather, he feared what this would mean for those that he would call friends.... These were the last thoughts that he head before the darkness claimed him. "YES!" The large orc threw his hands up into the air, as if to embrace the moon that hung overhead. He threw his head back and roared loudly, expressing to the world his triumph. Looking down, he examined his hands. Hands! He could finally see his HANDS! Of course, they weren't really -his- hands, per se. But still. They would do. Large, tough hands. Grinning, he looked over the rest of his body, admiring every muscle, every tendon, every vein. He was alive! He had a body! For the first time in decades, he was FREE! "Kargron" let out a deep, contented sigh. It was so good to be out of the darkness. Free to do whatever he pleased. No longer trapped in the other one's mind. And now, there was no one to stop him! He wouldn't make the same mistakes this time, he wouldn't follow some mad man through a portal and get himself trapped for another couple of decades. Oh, no, no, he had much bigger plans this time. And he woulnd't follow anyone ever again. He'd be his own boss, follow his own destiny. They will....know....who you are. A strange voice echoed in Kargron's head, causing him to furrow his brow in confusion. It took him a moment to place it. "Ahhhhh! Kargron! It's you! So you're in my place now, trapped in my mind! How....delightfully ironic!" The orc giggled to himself, feeling absolutely giddy over what had transpired. "Well, now you get to be me for another....oh, I don't know. Let's start with a couple decades and see how we feel after that?" No.... The voice went on, determined. They will find out....who you are. They will stop you. They will destroy you. "Who?" Kargron raised an eyebrow, despite the fact that he was talking to a voice inside his own head. That fact didn't seem to bother him much. Sanctuary. They know me....who I am. What I believe. And....you are everything I am not.... Kargron sighed. "Alas, you make a valid point. I'm not you." He snickered to himself before continuing. "But I am smarter. Much smarter. And I suppose they will eventually discover that something is wrong. But they wouldn't DARE hurt me if they thought it could hurt you. I know their type." You're wrong. You are worth destroying, no matter the cost. "And will your friends agree with you, do you think?" He shook his head. "Its not like you're going to be able to tell them what you want. And even if you could, they'd try to find a way." He shrugged his shoulders, grinning widely. "Who am I to deny them? Let's give them what they want. If they find out, I'm sure I'll find the words to convince them that I can be a good little dog, follow them around, and....well, we'll see how it goes. I've got a good feeling about your commander." He licked his lips in anticipation. "A really good feeling...." I will fight you. I will fight you to the end. "Ha!" The old orc barked a cruel laugh. "You will try. And you will fail." He clapped his hands together with excitement, rubbing them against each other while anticipating his next move. "Now, what to do first? I suppose you've been gone a while, so I'd best make my way back to Sanctuary's garrison. Don't want them to think anything's TOO amiss, now, do we?" He cackled, then began to gather up the equipment that the previous master of his current body had left lying around in his vain attempt to maintain control. There was a flower growing in the middle of grassy knoll that he now stood on. All by itself. A lone survivor. Like him! "Look at that!" He voiced his thoughts aloud. "A little flower growing up all on it's own. It must be tough. Strong. Like me!" What...are you talking about? "No, you wouldn't understand, would you?" Kargron sighed, then dropped to his knees in front of the plant. He ran one gloved hand against the stem, stroking it softly. "It's beautiful, in it's own way. And what it represents is power. Power and a will to press on, despite the odds." He smirked. "But like all other living things....you only keep power until someone else.....takes it away from you." With those words, he extended his palm outward, a dark energy emanating from his hand. The flower immediately began to wilt and die, it's colorful and beautiful petals falling away and withering. The plant was soon completely dead, and the very ground that it grew in turned black, ugly, and decayed, corrupted by dark magic. Kargron laughed gleefully and clapped his hands, pleased. Why....? "A point, my friend!" Kargron rose to his feet, then threw one of his arms up in a grand sweeping gesture, indicating the world all around them. "This world is filled with people struggling to survive, struggling for power and the right to exist. And it's all so pointless! They're all going to die, sooner or later. The delusional fools." The orc shook his head and sighed in disappointment. "It's up to me to free them from their delusions. And add their power to my own." "I followed Gul'dan and Ner'zhul. I followed the Horde. But no longer." He shook his head, a cruel smile forming on his lips. "I follow no one. I will seek my own power, I will see this world and all in it burn to ashes around me. I will have my revenge for these long years lost!" He raises his fist into the air, clenching it as he imagined draining the life from as many as he possibly could. "I shall be FREE!"
  2. Day 52 (I don't know. Two days after the last entry) It's over. The project is finished. I was too late. Everywhere I went, I was a step behind. I went to the Dark Portal, and my earlier guess was correct. He had been there. But no longer. He had moved on some time ago. I found out from some idiotic orc peon that some warrior had been shouting earlier about the invasion of the Horde. They thought him mad, but sensed his power, so gave him a wide berth. Apparently, a forsaken priest was in the area. Shadespeak or Shadowtalk or some manner of similar idiocy. The priest wanted to bring him to the Undercity. I went there, no trace. But a forsaken remembered a particulalry dangerous and confused orc arriving. And they were going to Orgrimmar. This pattern kept up for some time. I followed their trail, halfway across Azeroth and back, or so it seemed. And then I finally caught up. The forsaken priest was nearby, which meant no spells. I don't think I could have subdued him myself, for I sensed a dark power emanating from him. So I decided to instead strike up a conversation, see how things were. I had hoped that the orc was still confused, his mind shattered, and they were looking for a cure. Then I would offer to help, and the situation would be rectified. No such luck. No luck at all. He has a name now. And a position. A Death Knight and Warrior of the horde. He's not even all that confused. While there are a few problems with his mind, the priest helped him to sort through the worst of it. His memories have set. All of them. And I am too late. This experiment has been a failure, and I was a fool to waste my time on this effort. Never again. I shall never make such a costly endeavor in the future. From now on, absolute devotion to the master! I must make up for lost time. The master must be appeased. I will attempt to contact him soon... Oh, and since this has served to be nothing more than a record of my failure, I'm ending it here. I'll continue the journal, but from a new starting point. One, hopefully, that catalogues more of my successes. But I'll keep this one. Something to remind myself of what awaits such projects.... He calls himself Kargron, by the way. Extra entry. Date unimportant. I had almost forgotten about this little project of mine! I hadn't been keeping track of it. Ah, I was younger then. Young and naive, reckless in my own youth. Why, oh why, is youth squandered on the young?! What a difference one year can make! It's a pity the project turned out as it did, that's true. But it was not, as I had previously assumed, a total loss. I don't have a bodyguard of near infinite power, this is true. In fact, from my occasional glimpses of the Death Knight's abilities, while his power is considerable, it's not quite what I originally envisioned. Perhaps this is due to the interrupted ritual. Or perhaps he was never as strong as I had hoped. He is still a force to be reckoned with, of course. And he would have been quite useful as a servant. In my haste and frustration, I assumed the project was a waste. It was not. For while I cannot order him around (And indeed, it's probably best if he remains more or less unaware of my existence), I was the one that put those memories in him in the first place. And thanks to my unique position as the one that brought him life...well... I cannot directly influence him, this is true. But perhaps, just perhaps, I can still work this in my favor. He may yet accomplish something worthwhile. After all, I can see his dreams. More than that, I can influence them to some degree. It is difficult, of course. But possible. And while I cannot give him orders or commands, perhaps I can implant within him...ideas. Visions. The future. This is my final entry. There will be no others. I have no interest in recording my plans here. Or anywhere else, for that matter. I cannot bring myself to destroy this journal, and for that reason, I shall not include any details of future exploits. That could end badly for me, I should think. So just the fun stuff from now on! You know, how long some patients last, what methods were used to dispose of them, amusing reactions, that sort of thing. Experiments, I'll just keep to myself. Because I'm not done. Oh no indeed. The fun is just beginning....
  3. Day 45 I have always enjoyed the silence. Of course, I love it when my halls are filled with the tortured screams of the broken and dying, but silence is nice too. It is often a reflection of a job well done. I do not enjoy this silence. It feels heavy. Thick. Intense. Wrong. I know not what to do. The decision weighs heavy in my mind, as thick as the gloom and darkness of my lair. Even that begins to fray my nerves! Unthinkable! I am jumping at shadows, I keep hearing whispers in the dark, inaudible voices that are so close...and yet they are not there. I half expect to hear the clanking of metal as a fully armored Alliance platoon comes inside my home. It hasn't happened yet. Perhaps it won't. Day 46 My master is silent. I have not made enough sacrifices recently. I've spent too much time focused on this work. I should find more sacrifices for the master, but I dare not leave my pet project unattended. What shall I do, master? I need your gidance! Day 47 I can endure no more. The ritual will take place tomorrow, regardless of whether he is ready or not. I will wait no longer. There are risks, of course, but... I have little choice. Day ??????? This situation is almost funny. Comical. Really. It is. I'm sure I'll be laughing at this years from now. It'll be quite the jest. A pity I see no humor in it now. The ritual has failed. I don't know what day it is. Everything has gone wrong. I was preparing the ritual, as I had planned. The dark magic was at work. At first, my new servant did nothing, but I could sense the magic achieving the desired effect. After some time, he stirred. Twitched. His breathing steadied. And I knew he was ready. And it was at that exact moment that a human raiding party broke inside. My concentration had been so intent on my work, I had not even noticed their arrival. More the fool I, as they were wearing enough plate-mail to be heard from Kalimdor. I digress. My minions fell before their advance. One of the soldiers ran me through with his blade before I even managed to cast a single spell. And just like that, it was over. I don't know what happened next. I have no idea how much time has passed. I've only just awoken a short while ago, and the subject is missing. This room looks like it's been torn apart, my equipment is scattered everywhere, much of it broken. But no bodies. I find that odd. I've searched everywhere, it's all the same. Broken equipment, overturned tables. Occasional weapons or gear that the intruders left behind. No bodies. I sincerely hope that he didn't get himself captured. It is possible that he was still catatonic which, for obvious reasons, would leave him vulnerable. But I was not killed, merely wounded. Why didn't the attackers finish me off? Or burn me or something. They're usually more thorough in dealing with Forsaken. Not that I'm complaining. I'm just trying to ponder the new depths of idiocy that the humans have seemingly plunged to. What fun. I'll report more when I have an idea of what happened. Day 50 (Maybe?) I still don't know what day it is. But at least I have a few answers. The guards are dead. I found them a while ago. What was left of them. Their bodies had been dragged away and burned. That must have taken him some time. I have little doubt as to who is responsible for this. My creation. Unfortunately, there's no trace of him remaining. If I had to guess, he's probably confused. The memories may be jarring, and he may not even be sane. He had enough sanity to slaughter the platoon and then burn the bodies afterward, so that's something I suppose. I do have a theory, however. He may (possibly) be drawn toward the Dark Portal. It was not only a pivotal moment in the lives of almost of the minds that have made this creation what he is, but it is a gateway through the nether. That may be pulling him. It's not much to go on, but it's all I have. I may still be able to salvage this. It will be difficult to pull off what I originally intended, but it's still possible! I cannot fail now! I must not!
  4. Day 40 I'm taking a short break. This process is taxing. I must admit, it is more difficult than even I initially feared. Their memories do not all quite fit together. They were all in different places at different times during the wars. They were all different ages, and have memories specific to those ages. I have done what I can to eliminate these, to ensure that my new Death Knight does not think about them. Unfortunately, this will create gaps and inconsistencies in his mind. I'm not sure there's anything I can do about that. If there's too many, his mind will be unable to function properly, and he's likely to go mad. If he wakes up at all, that is. I'll continue in a few moments. These memories are annoying to peer through. Most of it is worthless and senseless to me, but I must piece together a history for my death knight. Something fitting for him. Something I can work with. Day 42 I'm making progress. It won't be long now. I've almost got all the memories prepared. The orcs struggle against me, but each day they weaken. Each day they lose and more of their souls to my magicks. They cannot resist. They cannot prevail. Their efforts are futile, though admittedly delicious. One of them tried to spit on me the other day. Cute. I'll make the process especially painful for him. Day 43 It's done! I've finished! The orcs have been drained of their souls and memories, their bodies disposed of. I have placed the new memories inside my Death Knight's head. Now I need only give him a few days for the mind to settle, and then all will proceed as planned. I also found a way to circumvent the previous problem that I had detailed here. The memories will conflict, and that will create problems. However, there's a way around it. And it's perfect. It does exactly what I wish, and then some. I should have thought of it in the first place! I will make the dominant memories in this new warrior's mind all of battle, bloodshed, and violence. He will remember every battle that's ever occurred since the Horde's first invasion of Azeroth, and if I'm fortunate, perhaps even a few battles that took place beforehand. With the Draenei and ogres of the orc homeworld. He will be a perfect killing machine. The memories of other details, they are necessary. But they can be buried within. These internal conflicts will no longer matter, and it will take time before they may resurface. In that time, I may be able to find a way to undo those memories completely, make him mine in every conceivable way. For now, I will be content to bury the memories. They will be there, and that should help reduce the possibility of the mind being broken, but the strongest memories, the greatest memories, will be of war and bloodshed. I must admit, I'm growing and more excited about this idea. A bodyguard. A pet servant that will do anything that I command. I rather fancy the thought. No longer will I have to scavenge amongst the wounded and half-dead in order to bring home something worthwhile, at least without expending too much of my own power in the process. With my new servant at my command, I will be able to hunt for the mightiest of mortals, the fittest, the fattest, the bravest! It won't matter anymore! None will be safe! This is a glorious moment, and I believe I owe myself a celebration. I haven't forgotten my little human friend in his cell. I think it's time he and I reacquaint ourselves with one another. The process will only take a few more days. And then it will be finished. And this world will know a new terror! Well, more accurately, it will relearn an old terror reborn into the modern world, but that's just a technicality, really. For all intents and purposes, this is a new terror. I'm calling it a new terror. In fact, perhaps that's what I'll name it. "New Terror." I like the sound of that. New Terror, New Terror, New Terror. New Terror? New Terror. Just rolls off the tongue. And the pen, apparently. Might wear a little thin after a while, though.... I'll keep thinking on the name. Such fun! Day 44 That fool! That wretch! That fiend! I can't believe I could have been so stupid. This is not like me, not like me at all! I don't make mistakes like this! How could this have happened?! I suppose I should explain. The human, the one that was supposed to die here. The one that I had so much fun cutting just a few short weeks ago. The one that I left blubbering in his cell, crying for mommy to come and get him. The human who I was so certain I had broken. The human that should be dead. He's escaped. I don't know where he is. I don't know how he escaped. But he's gone. And there's a nary a trace of him left. The little whelp was smarter than I thought. He's been clever enough to keep himself from bleeding. Some of the fools that manage to escape, they leave wounded and weak, they don't make it far. They leave a blood trail for my minions to follow. And even if they don't, they eventually succumb to their wounds and I'm able to snatch them back up before they're found. Soon he (or she) is recaptured, and we begin the fun all over again. It can be quite amusing, sometimes. This is not one of those times. He has left no trail. I have no idea where he's gone. I've sent my minions to scour the area, but so far there's been no sign of him. Normally, this wouldn't be much more than a minor inconvenience. By the time that he makes it to the city guard, I will be long gone. I'll have packed up all of my essential equipment and tools and moved them to a more secure location. They will arrive and find a blood spattered formerly occupied facility that's obviously no longer in use. And the game begins again. It's a fun pattern that I've prided myself in perfecting over the years. This time, however, is different. I have the Death Knight to watch over. He cannot be disturbed or awoken, it is absolutely critical that he remain stationary for the time being. There's no telling what would happen if he were woken up now. Perhaps he'd go on a killing spree. Or perhaps his mind would be completely blank. Or his thoughts would be conflicting and he'd go mad. Or maybe he'd be perfectly fine. It doesn't matter. I can't take that chance. Whatever the case might be, the conditions must be perfect when he awakens if I am to have full control of him. I have a spell in mind, one that should bind his mind to my own. But it must be cast immediately as soon as he awakens! Should this proceed in any manner other than the exact one which I have specified within these notes, everything I've done will be for naught. And yet if I stay, I risk discovery. To abandon everything I've worked so hard for, that I've killed for, that I've put my heart and soul on the line for....or to stay and risk capture or destruction.
  5. Day 27 Believe it or not, the last few days have been woefully uneventful. Trolls are not my favorite beings to torture, and this one is particularly resilient. To further aggravate the situation, this elf, a night elf, is a mouthy little creature. No matter what I do, she resists. She somehow is able to overcome the pain that I inflict on her, and it's wearing on my nerves. They should be screaming for mercy, not taunting me further. Normally, this sort of thing doesn't bother me. I suppose it's because I'm in a hurry. The sooner I extract enough essence, the sooner I can finish my plan to create this new servant of mine. Haste leads to mistakes, and yet I cannot help myself. I must complete this project! Day 28 The elf is dead. I killed her. You know, it's almost funny. They were this close to escaping. I had my back turned, and the night elf managed to somehow free herself from the operating table. I'm still wondering how. She would have escaped, too. She was so close. But the troll must have sensed her. He started screaming in that ridiculous language of theirs, which caught my attention. Good thing, too, because she had almost made it out the door. I had no choice but to use my most powerful spells to stop her. I did not wish to kill her. She had not yet been broken. She was still proud, defiant. I wanted her to beg. Tears to stream down her cracked and bloody face. Her body broken, gasping for breath as her life force slipped away. It was not to be. Rather than attempt to escape, in which case I or my minions surely would have succeeded in hunting her down and recapturing her, she attempted to fight. She charged me. I had no choice but to kill her. Set her face aflame, and watched her burn. Yet still she dared to defy me! While aflame, she spoke in that wretched language of hers, and uttered some sort of curse. And then she smiled. That smile! That wretched smile! How could she have smiled?! You cannot smile when you are broken! And she smiled! She was not broken! It wasn't what I wanted, not in the least. I suppose it wasn't a total loss, though. I managed to gather some of her life essence. It's not enough, not yet. Soon. I have decided to take out my frustrations on the troll. He will be my relief. He'd better hope that his kind are as durable as the stories claim they are. I intend to put that to the test. Day 30 I'm in a much better mood today. The troll has provided just what I needed. Their kind is indeed quite resilient. However, though their bodies may regenerate, they are still quite receptive to pain. I knew this, of course, but this troll had a particularly strong regenerative capability, something far beyond anything I had anticipated. My frustration in dealing with the elf made me a bit more vicious than usual, but this troll could take it. He was in agony in the end. He's still alive, I think. He curses his own regeneration now. He wants to die. He begs me to end it all. Such a pity the elf didn't see such a fate. I would have gladly granted her such a wish. But this troll has nothing to offer me. I will leave him here. I have what I need from the troll. Now I must continue my journey. With the death knight secured, I believe I have a larger time frame than I once did. I will be gone for some time. A week, perhaps. When I return, I intend to finish this project. Day 39 I have returned! It took a bit longer than I expected, but I'm here. I had to dispose of the troll's carcass, of course. He starved while I was away. But it is of no consequence. I have more than enough power for what comes next. Believe it or not, the human is still alive. I forgot that I ordered my minions to continue giving the prisoners food, save for the ones on the operating table. The human is the last remaining prisoner. I'll get to him soon enough. For now, I have work to do. I've captured a handful of orcs. This was no easy task, I assure you. Though I will admit, the fact that they were a bit aged, at least as orcs go, made things a little easier. I'll spare you the details of exactly how I managed to acquire them all. I certainly didn't do it all at once. There are three in total. All of them are veterans from the various wars that have taken place since the Horde first invaded Azeroth. Only one of them is old enough to remember the First War. The other two are veterans of the Second and Third wars. My plan is to drain their souls, their memories, their essence. Take what they are, and then combine it into a new whole. You see, this Death Knight that I am creating is going to have extremely limited memories. There's too little of him left to make anything on his own, at least anything that will make sense. I am going to slice through these orc memories and combine them all together to make a perfect killing machine. Their memories of battle and bloodshed will be sifted through until I am satisfied. My work begins! The night will be long.
  6. ]Day 21 (Again) I have it! I have it! I have it! I had to run back here and add to the entry, I'm so excited! The human continued with the insults, so I had to cut out his tongue. Was pretty funny, he started spitting up blood and making all kinds of amusing noises. I think losing that took all the fight out of him. He's crying now. Or I think that's what he's doing. I can't very well ask him now, all I get is some sort of "Mrgsrrggrr!" or something muffled like that. It's still fun to hear him try though! Where was I? Oh yes! Right! I've found the solution. I know what I need! I need to find a Death Knight's body! I was too set on retrieving a body identical to the Death Knights of the Second War, but this is unnecessary! While the Death Knights created by the Lich King are different, they do share fundamental similarities. I believe they're similar enough that I could use one! All I would have to do is find a death knight (Either an orc or human would work), weaken him, then shatter his mind with every spell that I have, finally draining his soul completely and leaving his body as nothing more than a barren husk. It's a perfect plan. All except one detail. I need a death knight. I fear that there may not be much time remaining. While the soul shard should contain the Death Knight's essence for some time, the longer I linger, the more I fear the soul may drain away. I must find a death knight immediately! I'll leave Orik in charge. I hope to be back tomorrow morning. Death Knights are everywhere, and they seem to enjoy battle. Hmm. You know, I haven't paid my respects to Tol Barad in some time. There's quite a battle being waged there. It might be fun to revisit. Memories are always good. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find what I'm looking for. Day 22 I've returned. And I'm in luck! I have the Death Knight with me! An orc, no less! Before you praise my great strength and power, save your breath. He was wounded when I found him, recovering from a gaping hole in his chest put there by an Alliance. As a Death Knight, he was capable of surviving such a wound, though it did weaken him. The fight was still difficult, I'll admit. He was powerful. It didn't help that my objective was to defeat him, not kill him. My magic can be a bit...tricky in that area. What matters is that I succeeded. I convinced some idiot blood elf medic that came by right then that I was tending to him, I was a doctor and such. I'm not sure he believed me, but it didn't matter. The battle was raging, and others required his aid. He had no time to waste with me. Also, I didn't count on the orc being as heavy as he was. I had to summon every demon in my collection just to lift him off the ground. We merely needed to move him to a secure location so that I could begin the ritual that would send us all to my lair. There were no problems, and here we are. The orc death knight is secured, and poses no threat to me. In my haste, I sort of forgot about the human. He's still alive. And I've decided that, in the interest of pursueing this Death Knight business further (As it is a priority), I'm going to place him back in his cell for the time being. Let him wait for his end to come. It'll make it more satisfying. Perhaps he'll even gain a little hope of escape. That would be amusing, I should think. I will spend the remainder of the day draining the death knight's soul. Tomorrow, I suppose I will see to some of my other guests. There's only two left outside of the human, a troll and an elf. I'll tend to them later. Day 24 It's done! The soul has been drained utterly! The orc woke and tried to resist, but his power paled in comparison with my own. Or rather, with that of my master's. And the restraints helped, no denying that. Once the soul was gone, the body entered a sort of catatonic state, not responding to any sort of outside stimuli. I took this opportunity to unleash the soul that I had in my possession, in the shard. Using my master's gift, I managed to weave the soul into the body. It took a great deal of power, and I am once again weakened. But as I have said, it is done. Well, perhaps that's too early to say. The death knight is still comatose. And I'm not sure it would be wise to wake him right now. While the body will not reject the soul, there's not enough of a soul there to make much of anything. He is yet incomplete. He needs more of a mind. But that may be difficult. I have an idea as to how I can rectifiy this situation, but it will require a great deal of power. I believe what I can harvest from the troll and elf will suffice. I'll begin at once.
  7. Day 17 I've started on the tauren today. He is the largest and most intimidating of the captives, so I feel I should deal with him sooner rather than later. I've always been curious about their race. Massive creatures. Are their organs and innards a reflection of our own, just larger? Or are their insides as alien as their exterior and peculiar culture? Long story short, I opened him up. Oh, the delicious bit is that he was fully conscience the whole time. Not in too much pain. See, there are certain herbs that, when combined, create powerful pain suppressants. Rather than an experiment in pain, I'd like to see one in fear today. He is aware the entire time as I slit him from navel to nose, pulling out his insides and rearranging them a bit. His expression was priceless. Impossible to give it justice with mere words. I won't even attempt to describe it, beyond saying that it is one of the many great pleasures that I experience in my work. I've got something that I pulled out of him, an organ I'm not familiar with. I'm guessing that it's a second stomach, but I'm not certain. I'll put it back in later. Better yet, maybe I'll feed it to him. That would be a delicious slice of irony, I should think. In other news, I have been preparing for the ritual that will summon the spirit that I located in the Nether. I'll have to keep it contained in a soul shard once I acquire it, but in time I will find a better home for it. This is going to require much of my strength, and I do not look forward to what is to come. But I must focus on the long-term... If I'm right about this, I may very well recreate one of the greatest terrors ever seen on the field of battle. It would be delightful just to release it upon an unsuspecting world. But no, I'm planning for much more than that. So much more.... Day 18 I managed to put the tauren back together again. Mostly. I'm not sure I put everything back in right. It didn't all fit the way I remembered, and I had to sort of stuff it in there. A few snapped ribs later, and a mushed organ of an unidentifiable nature, we're good as new. Though his stomach is bulging a bit more than it was. I suppose if he were female, I might think him pregnant with some kind of grotesque monster. So I suppose there's room for improvement there. Oh well! You live and learn, as they say. Well, he won't. He's been dead for a few hours now. Choked on his own stomach! At least, I think it was his stomach. I'm still not sure. Now that's irony. Good thing I started writing these things down. Might have denied the world a chance to enjoy such beautiful imagery. Not that I'll be sharing this with anyone anytime soon, but you never know. Might get the chance. And my legacy will live on. The ritual will be completed tonight. I've gathered all the materials I need. And if I need any blood, I'm sure the dead tauren won't mind giving up some of his. I doubt that will be necessary, though. This will take a great amount of the essence that I have gathered over the past few days, but little more than that. I fear little for my own sake, as I have the master's protection. But if this ritual were to fail, I may end up destroying what little is left of the soul in the Nether. I cannot allow that to happen. This must succeed. There will be no second chances. Day 19 The ritual was a success! I feel drained, as expected, but it is of little consequence. The soul is mine! I have already begun to feel it, to probe it with my power, with the gift of the master. And now, there are no doubts. This is a remnant of a death knight of long ago! A death knight of the Second War! Unfortunately, it is also an incredibly small remnant. Little of the Death Knight has survived. Bits and pieces, broken memories, and shattered dreams. A hint of power, but so faint that even as I rub the shard and feel it's essence, I'm not always certain if there's anything in there at all. Far less survived than I had hoped. I must move quickly if there's any hope of salvaging the situation. The secret behind the creation of the Death Knights of the Second War has been lost. Should the slightest thing go wrong, there will be no other chance. This could very well be the spirit of the last Death Knight created by Gul'Dan. Should I succeed in this task...the possibilities are endless! But for the moment, I do not see how. The spirit is too weak, too fragile. What can I do to take advantage of this situation? I have seized what could potentially be one of the most powerful forces in our world. But what can I do with it? Where do I go from here? The soul is so fragile, and it needs a host. Something that will be compatible. But what? I have no answers at the moment. For now, I must rest and recover my strength. I believe I will focus my attentions on the human tomorrow, and then decide what I'm going to do next in this matter. Day 21 The human is proving to be quite a bit of fun. Yesterday and today, despite the considerable agony I was inflicting upon him, he kept a brave face and managed to throw out more insults than grunts of pain. I admired his spirit. I told him as much. Honesty is important in my line of work. Far too many just tell lies. It becomes a habit. People expect you to lie today. That's part of the fun, you know. I tell the truth and people don't believe. They assume I'm lying, joking, or insane. A pity that people just aren't more trusting. The world would be a better place, I should think. Would certainly make my job easier. Down to business. I'm still working on this soul problem, I've been mulling it over in my mind for the past few days. It seems I've run into a wall. I cannot simply rebuild the body of this fallen Knight. Even if that were an option, which I rather doubt, I wouldn't even know where to begin. For all I know, there is no body in this world, and recovering one from the Nether would be next to impossible. It was already beyond all reasonable chance that I discovered this Death Knight's soul. I won't be so fortunate again, likely in all my life, no matter how long that might be. No, the original body is not an option. Furthermore, I can't just meld the soul into the body of another. There is a distinct possibility that the Death Knight's mind, or what little is left of it, will be unable to acclimate to it's new host. That could cause him to simply die. Or it might send him into an uncontrollable berserker rage. Either way, I doubt he'd prove to be of much use to me. And while the latter may sound fun, it's nothing compared to the sheer potential that this find has given me. I will not waste it on a single killing spree. Unfortunate. The discovery of a lifetime, and it's so weak and broken that I can't even find a way to use it! Just thinking about this is making me frustrated. I need to unwind. The human is screaming something at me, some obscenity and vulgarity involving me and a dog. I suppose I should shut him up. Better yet, let's hear him scream some more....
  8. Day 10 I'm not one for studying old tomes or history. I'm more of a "Hands on" sort of person, though I don't mind learning the occasional poison, and I enjoy studying books on the various anatomies of the inhabitants of Azeroth. But history is something I've always found rather pointless. And yet that is what I've been studying the past few days. In between sessions with the elf, of course. She's been fun. Oh, and I set up a human in an adjacent room, I've been working on her when I'm finished with the elf, and vice versa. They can hear each other screaming as the session begins. It's wonderful. The fear in their eyes becomes almost tangible. History. Right. You see, before the orcs came to Azeroth, there's all manner of nonsense they were involved in, most of it far too boring or idiotic for me to record here. I've no interest in clans, shamans, geography, or anything else. And that seems to be what all orc history focuses on. I did, however, finally find something worthwhile. A tome on the history of the Second War. A record of the oral history that has been passed down by some of the orcs that survived the war. It was not easy to find. A curious thing to read about, being that I was on the other side of that war. But no matter. The point of the matter is that the Second War is when the Horde began to create Death Knights. Gul'Dan, a powerful warlock much like myself, created the first group, starting with Teron Gorefiend. His exact methods are shrouded in mystery. It is said that he brought all of his most trusted acolytes to the corrupted runestones of the elves, then butchered them after all the other warlocks were slaughtered by Doomhammer. The spirits of the warlocks were then placed inside the bodies of freshly slain knights of Azeroth, using the power granted to him by the acolytes he had only just killed. Whether this is true or not, who can say. The results, however, are undeniable. These Death Knights were fearsome creatures, inspiring dread and panic in entire legions of enemy soldiers. Their power was immense, and there are few who exist that did not fear them utterly. They could lay waste to a company of troops, then raise them as their undead servants. A sight to behold. As to where I am going with this, well... I have no way to be absolutely certain of this, but I believe that I may have stumbled upon the soul of one of those death knights. I must conduct further research to be sure. When I am certain beyond a reasonable doubt, I shall use my power to bring it to Azeroth. The cost shall be considerable. Everything I gained from the orc, perhaps more, will be consumed in the process. But if I'm right... If I am correct, I will have a servant of unimaginable power. And I shall be able to harvest whomsoever I please! I will no longer have to skulk like a rat in these dens of filth. Day 12 The human died yesterday. Odd. The elf is somehow still alive, and I've been working on her longer than the human. Unexpected. She is broken now, of course. Weeping and screaming and begging. There's little more I can gain from her. I shall have a bit more fun tomorrow (The elf had quite an exquisite dagger on her personage, and I'm dying to use it), and then I'll finish her off. Once in a while, I have a subject that can endure weeks of torment. Quite rare. Extraordinary individuals. Right now, I seem to be blessed more with quantity rather than quality. Ah well! I won't complain. Life force is life force, and I'm getting enough for my purposes. I've not found what I've been looking for. For the answers I seek, I believe I must make a journey to Outlands. Disappointing. I'll finish the elf off tomorrow, then leave my minions in charge to make sure there are no escapes. It shouldn't be a problem, I never keep more than a few guests at a time. There's a couple elves, a human, a tauren (Not sure if that was wise), and a troll. Hopefully none of them starve themselves to death in my absence. Most are desperate enough or hopeful enough that they don't resort to such drastic measures, but every so often one pulls it off. Always a sad day, that. My minions have been given instructions as to how to deal with those who resist. I doubt there will be any problems. Day 15 I'm back. And of course, one of the elves is dead. I'm not sure if the fool stopped eating or not, maybe they just grew ill. Their kind is frail like that. Either way, dead. Such a waste. I'll have Orik dispose of the body later. Such a pity, it truly is. I'll need to find a few more guests soon, but I'll wait a little while longer. I have work to do, and I'd rather get as much of this done as I can. I found the answers that I sought. It took some searching, but I finally found an orc of what was once Draenor that knew what befell the death knights, as well as others. According to the old orc's tale, the Alliance had come through the Dark Portal to put a stop to the seemingly random attacks that the Horde had been making across Azeroth. The battle was desperate, and the Alliance succeeded in "permanently" (We all know just how permanent that turned out to be) closing the portal. However, around the same time, Ner'Zhul was finishing a ritual that opened a new portal from Draenor to somewhere else. I'm not even sure if they knew where they were going. The energies began to tear Draenor apart, the devastation that would give the world the new name of "Outland." Before the energy broke the planet apart, Ner'Zhul and his most trusted followers went through the portal that he had created. This included a few death knights loyal to him. The old orc had no knowledge of what befell him after that, but I believe I can fill in the rest. My master has been willing to offer me a few details. They went into a trap. The Burning Legion was waiting for them, and their souls were captured, twisted, and tortured. They became the Legions' new servants, and I believe the Lich King was a direct result of that particular escapade. All of Ner'Zhul's lieutenants became Liches, mindless and loyal only to their new king. Whatever proceeded from that moment is irrelevant. They came to Azeroth, the Third War came a few years later, and so on. Worthless. But that moment that they were captured, where they were tortured... The Legion's fury can be devastating, out of control. It would not surprise me in the least if at least a few of the orcs that followed Ner'Zhul were damaged so badly so as to be considered useless. Their souls ripped to pieces and scattered to the nether. One strong piece of supporting of evidence of this theory are the numbers. While the old orc could be remembering wrong, he told me that several dozen, perhaps over a hundred, followed Ner'Zhul into the portal that he opened. And I don't believe there have ever been more than a handful of Liches at the Lich King's disposal. What happened to the rest of the orcs? Destroyed. Butchered. Empty, broken shells floating through the Nether. All except one. My theory could be wrong. I could be mistaken. But I believe this soul that I have located is a fragment of what once was. A Death Knight of the original Horde, shattered and broken. But perhaps just barely, barely alive. Or at least there's enough left of him to make something useful. I WILL learn the truth!
  9. ((I wrote this a while back, and never posted. In part, because I was never happy with it. In part because I'm shy and don't like posting stuff where anyone can see it. But after working up my nerve, (And getting some courage from a few friends), I decided to give it a go. Hope you enjoy. Going to post in several sections, try to keep it somewhat tidy. Will add a little more each day 'til I post the whole thing.)) Several years ago... Day One. What fun! I've decided to keep a little journal of my future exploits. I'm not sure how long I'll be keeping the thing. A written record of what I've been doing seems to be a rather poor idea. If someone's looking for incriminating evidence, all they would need is this little book. It would be tantamount to a confession. I suppose I could avoid this by not writing anything incriminating, but where would the fun be in that? Besides, the point of these things is complete and total honesty, so let's not start by lying to each other, hmm? I'll just take certain precautions to make sure this journal is never found... On to business. Work is going well. The increasing tensions between the Alliance and Horde provide me with more than enough test subjects. Just the other day, I was wandering around Tol Barad (That brought back memories), and I saw some orc stumbling away from the battlefield, battered and barely able to stand. Judging from the wounds that he possessed, I'm surprised he's even still alive! Needless to say, he was weak enough to make capture quite easy. He is safe inside my lair, and we're going to begin the fun soon. He's just one of many new subjects, really. The Twilight's Hammer, the war between the Horde and the Alliance, Deathwing.... I'm not sure if life could get any better. With all this life force that I've been extracting, I've got more than I need. Perhaps it is finally time to test the limits of my abilities. In fact, that's the reason I've started writing in the first place. My experiments over the next few days or weeks or months will provide some interesting results, I should think. I shall record what I discover, and leave it here to review at a later time. I believe I hear someone screaming in rage. The orc must have come to. I must attend to him immediately. Wouldn't want him feeling neglected. Oh no indeed. Day Three Happy day, happy day! Things couldn't be going any better than they are. The orc is still alive, he possesses a remarkable constitution. I've practically sliced him to ribbons, and still he clings to his stubborn pride. He has not broken, not yet. But he will. I can sense his pain. His agony. His fear. It is delicious, and all the sweeter because I know how very close we are to the climax. It will be beautiful, I think. But I hope he lasts a bit longer. He's strong enough. I'll see if we can't make our session last a week or so. When I haven't been busy with him, I've been peering into the nether. My master's blessing gives me protection, and this new essence that I have harvested gives me strength. The Twisting Nether is not all that interesting, really. Scattered lost souls who have met various untimely ends, the occasional demon. I suppose if I'm fortunate, I could stumble upon a new creature to summon to this world, though subduing it in the nether would prove....difficult. I'd rather not waste the sheer amount of power it would cost to undertake such a task. I shall continue my exploration; I will report if I find anything interesting. Before that, I'd like to visit the orc again. I am fortunate for his durability. I must admit that I've gotten a little carried away. I don't want him to die too soon. No indeed. Day Six I've found something! It's taken a few days, more shifting through nothing and no real results up until now, but I've found it! Oh, the orc's dead, by the way. He almost made it a week. Pity. I'll have to move on to one of the other guests. They should be prepared by now. They've heard him screaming and begging for mercy the past few days. I'll pick the one that's the most terrified. The elf I captured in Eversong, I should think. The orc has given me more than enough essence to work with. In all honesty, though, I hoped he might last longer, as he's one of the most durable of my finds yet. He lasted far longer than I expected considering what I did to him. I shall have to take my time with this elf, be more....gentle. Ha ha! Where was I? Oh yes! The nether. I've found something wonderful, something intriguing. As I mentioned earlier, the nether contains a variety of curious items. Bits and pieces of souls, demons, and even certain items that have been "misplaced." There's all manner of things to be found in the nether, though I'll admit that little of it bears any interest. The souls, should I prod them, give up their stories readily enough, but they're boring. Humans who perished in Hillsbrad, a man who was murdered by his wife, an elf that got caught in a bear trap and was eaten by a bear (my personal favorite), and a dwarf that caught on fire after a visit to a bar and exploded. Fun stories, I suppose, but none of them worthwhile or useful to me. At least, until I found the one. Found isn't really the right word. I stumbled into it as I searched. As I passed through it, I felt something. Something faint, but with a hint of power. I retraced my steps. Well, not steps, as the nether isn't flat, and it's a complicated maze of energy and power that cannot ever be comprehended or traversed by mere mortals. It took me a while, but I stumbled into it again. And then I realized that I had discovered something interesting... I must do some research to confirm my theory. But I believe I may have stumbled upon the find of a lifetime.
  10. Terich

    The Wedding

    The Day Before the Wedding... Krolg drummed his fingers impatiently on the small table in Togron's home. Togron sat directly opposite of him, oblivious to Krolg's seeming impatience. Togron was looking all around the room, an expression of wonder on his face. He started making sounds, some like "Ooooh..." "Ahhh....." "That be new..." After some time of gazing around the room, he turned to Krolg. "Krolg pal, me not knows that there be bear rug in middle of floor! When me kill such big bear? Me must be strrrrooooooong!" Togron flexed and grinned. Krolg continued to drum his fingers, glancing at Togron. He sighed deeply and began to speak slowly. "Erm...Togron...you've had it there for about a year. And no, you didn't kill it. You bought it from the Auction House, remember? It was a special sale for animal skins." Krolg sighed, getting slightly frustrated, seeing Togron had been going on like this for about an hour. Where was Terich, anyways? Togron frowned for a moment, then brightened up. "Oh, that means me kills it at Orgrimmart and then buys hide for discount! Yes, me be strong! Me be so strong to kill evil bear in Orgrimmart!" "Yes, Togron, of course. You showed that bear who was in charge." Krolg nodded tiredly, only half-paying attention. "The spirits were with you on that day, I'm certain." Togron nodded sagely. "Yes. Me thinks bears be involved in big conspiracy plot to hurt government. They be allied with the chickens! But me be onto them! So me bashes bear good on skull. He not be plotting to overthrow Thrall anymore!" Suddenly, Togron had a horrified expression cross his face. "What if...what if nice Orgrimmart man be involved in conspiracy?! Me no longer be ables to buy goodie-goods from him! We be doomed!" Krolg nodded, lost in thought. "Yes, Togron, that's simply horrible. We're in trouble for sure." He pulled out a book and began to read. Togron looked at him with interest for a few short moments, but then quickly began to become bored again. Suddenly, a fly buzzed around his head. Togron's eyes went from left to right, trailing it, his breathing suddenly quieting down quite a bit. He grew very still. His eyes crossed as the fly began come towards his nose, right down the center of his field of vision. Togron grinned. He brought up his hand behind the fly, then brought it towards his face as hard as he could, intending to crush the fly. The fly simply buzzed away, and Togron smashed his own hand into his face. "OW!" Togron rubbed his forhead, more surprised then hurt. His eyes followed the fly as it descended to the table. It stopped on it. Togron glanced at Krolg, noticing that he was staring upwards into the ceiling, thinking about something. Togron grinned even wider, leaned down, and slowly picked up his club from the ground. Once again, he glanced at Krolg, making sure he wasn't looking, then raised the club high over his head. The fly didn't react. Togron yelled as he slammed the club in to the table with all his strength. Just before this, Krolg was thinking deeply. "Hmm....I wonder what has happened to Terich...perhaps he was delayed, or got involved in a conversation with a friend, or perhaps he merely had a little accident, or something. I hope that this is important business, whatever it is. He certainly made it sound important, in that letter. But, even so, I've been waiting here for over an hour, with Togron. Listening to him chatter makes even me grow a little agitated. I do hope that...." *WHAM!* In mid-thought, Krolg heard a yell and the sound of a club striking the table, immediately assuming that Togron had been attacked by some Alliance spy. Enraged, he leaped up, whirling towards the door, shouting, "Attack! Attack! The Alliance are attacking us! Ready yourself!" He turned to Togron. "Are you alr...." Krolg stopped short in mid-sentence. Togron was standing over the table, holding his club high above him. Apparently, he was tracking a fly and trying to crush it. And, even more apparently, he missed with the club once already. The fly buzzed off into the air, Togron glaring angrily at it. Krolg sighed and sat back down. He allowed himself to watch Togron as he chased the fly around the room, swinging furiously, until the fly finally flew towards the door. Togron, upset that the culprit may escape, leaped towards it, yelling as he swung the club in a downwards swing. Unfortunately, Terich, who was preoccupied with and reading a few letters he was carrying, happened to be turning the corner and entering the building at that very moment. "DIIIIEEEE!" Togron screamed out loud, not noticing Terich as he stepped in front of him, and the club. Terich glanced up from his reading, just in time to receive a very, very painful blow to the face with a club. He was sent sprawling backwards outside of the farm, out of sight. Togron, apparently, didn't realize that he'd struck Terich. The fly was still alive and well. "That be one tough fly! It take good beating and still be in air! Me whacked it right on top of head!" Togron shook his head, puzzled. He dropped his club on the floor below him and began chasing the fly around the room, which zipped and dodged out of the way every time he got close. Terich, who was fortunately in a fairly good mood that day, stormed inside the home, grumbling and cursing Togron steadily under his breath. He came to the table and sat in front of Krolg, doing his best to ignore Togron. Krolg did the same. Terich forced a smile at Krolg, and began to speak. "Well, sorry it took so long. I had business to take care of, and something unexpected took up a few moments...sorry." Krolg nodded his head. "What sort of business did you come to conduct? You said it was important, and it required the immediate attention of the Council." Terich nodded quickly, and said, "Yes, yes, of course. Down to business. We can conduct it without...him, I think." Terich gestured towards Togron, who was oblivious to the entire conversation, still hunting down the fly. Krolg nodded in the affirmative. Terich smiled. "Good, good, I had hoped so. This mainly concerns you, anyways." Terich pulled out an old bottle of wine from within one of his bags that he carried on him. "Would you care for a drink?" Terich asked as he put the bottle on the table. "Well...personally, I would prefer a nice case of Bourbon, but...well...a small drink might be good!" Krolg reached for a cup from a cupboard next to them and then put it on the table. Terich poured the wine, a generous portion of it, inside. Krolg suddenly frowned. "Wait...I thought you didn't like alcohol? Last time I checked, you hated the stuff! Said that it was horrid and made imbeciles of men and...." "Well, this is a special occasion!" Terich interrupted, with a smile. "After all, we are discussing Togron's wedding! And, as I know, you are well aware of it. Drink up, my friend!" Krolg smiled, and lifted the drink to his lips. "Of course I know! I've been appointed as Chief of Security for the wedding! Not that we'll need it, of course, but, one never knows." He sipped on the wine very slowly, savoring the taste. He noticed that Terich poured only a few drops in his own cup. Krolg shrugged and began drinking. Terich shook the cup very lightly for a bit, staring at it, then began speaking very quietly. "Well, the fact is, I...er...forgot to tell you something. I meant to, of course! But, er...well..." Terich paused, not looking up or meeting Krolg in the eyes, fiddling with his drink. Krolg took a big swig of his drink, and Togron continued to chase the fly around the room. Then Terich glanced up at Krolg. "I...invited a few of the Alliance to attend." Krolg's eyes bulged and he immediately spit out his drink to the right, choking and gagging on it. Togron, stopped short, in shock, staring at Terich. Terich looked back at his drink. Krolg coughed loudly, apparently having swallowed some of the drink incorrectly. Krolg glared at Terich angrily. "That was a joke wasn't it? Ha ha ha." Krolg laughed lightly, obviously not meaning any of it, and sounding very annoyed. "Hmph. Terich, you never were good with jokes. Now's a very bad time to start! I thought you were serious there!" Terich raised his cup and gulped down the wine inside. Krolg continued angrily, "THat was stupid! Why did you even bring up such a thing?! I'm feeling very disturbed. Some joke." Terich, after finishing the last small drops of his drink, placed the cup back down on the table. He stared right at Krolg, meeting his gaze. "It's not a joke," he said softly. "I'm very, very serious. The Alliance are..." Krolg slammed his fist against the table so hard that the wood splintered. Terich flinched, and he heard the crack of the wood. The cup Krolg was holding broke in his hand. He had a rage burning in his eyes as he glared at Terich. "Are you an IDIOT?!" Krolg screamed at him. "How dare you do this?! I am your chief of security, I'm to ensure the bride's safety, and what do you do?! You don't even tell me that the Alliance, a potential security risk, are coming until the last possible moment!" Krolg leaped out of his chair, enraged. "How can I ensure the bride's safety?! Or any of us?! We can't trust those Alliance dogs! They are a bunch of lying, backstabbing, murdering, fools who only seek to cause trouble! What in the name of the Spirits themselves are you thinking?!" Terich stood up slowly as Krolg ranted on, growing angrier and angrier by the second. Surprisingly, Terich was very calm. Togron shifted his eyes between the two of them a couple of times, still being silent, then laughed lightly. "Uh...me be feeling very hot right now...too hot inside this place! Me going outside to cool off with piggies for bit." Togron inched towards the door, then fled out to the field. Terich watched, then sighed. He faced Krolg and spoke solemnly, "I'm very sorry. I know I should have told you. But the invitations have already been sent out, the day is tomorrow, and it's impossible to change anything now!" He took a deep breath. "Besides! This will prove you all the better! If you can catch the Alliance red handed trying to do something they shouldn't you can do what you wish with them! And, you'll truly find yourself useful as the head of security! But, please, respect our guests! Don't attack them, unless, of course, they breach security." Krolg stared at Terich, a very dark expression on his face. He closed his eyes, thinking about it for a few moments. Finally, he spoke. "I'll agree to this. But only because I have no choice now, thanks to your last minute memories! Now, because of this, I can't guarantee anyone's safety! You know what I want?! I want 50 guards, all patrolling, each with automatic-repeating cross-bows! If a single Alliance so much as waves at the bride or groom, I want them so full of cross-bolts that they'll need a kodo to haul the carcass off the mountain-side! I want guards posted on every entrance, exit, and possible ambush point! I want a few companies guarding the Alliance and making sure of no funny business at all times!" Terich sighed. "Unfortunately," he replied, "I can only guarantee two guards. However, I have good information telling me they are very trustworthy and won't put up with treachery. Don't worry. They are both honorable." "Their names?" Krolg asked suspiciously. "Jobolg and Fhenrir. Powerful and persuasive." Terich chuckled. "And I'm sure they'll be willing to assist you in whatever way you ask." Krolg narrowed his eyes. "I don't recognize those names. I want to meet them beforehand. I want a full report on their backgrounds, history, life story, anything they've done involving association with Alliance in any way..." "Well," Terich said in a lowered tone, "Jobolg is in this one guild known as Sanctuary...but I'm..." "WHAT?! SANCTUARY?!" Krolg snarled. "They're probably more loyal to the Alliance then they are their own brethren! We can't trust any of them! I say no!" "Well, I've got worse news for you. We're inviting any member of Sanctuary who wishes to come." Krolg's jaw dropped open. He was shocked. "WHAT?!" "And of course, their leader is a key guest." "WHAAAAAT?!" Krolg screamed out. He angrily slammed his fist into the table again, splintering the wood even slightly more then it was. "All of this done without telling me a word?!" "I'm sorry. And the Infection, by the way." Krolg stared at Terich, an incredulous expression on his face. "The Infection?! The Infection's ultimate goal is to wipe out all of the other races as we know it! They might destroy the entire wedding and murder everyone there for just the sheer thrill of it!" "Don't worry!" Terich attempted to soothe Krolg. "I've got everything under control." "Bunch of fanatics! Cultists!" Krolg shouted angrily. Terich sighed. "I'm telling you, I'm sorry! But there's nothing I can do about it! I'm simply trying to help matters here! I just want to try this...just once. And see how it goes." Krolg glared at Terich for several moments. For a moment, Terich was worried that Krolg might actually pick up his hammer and smash his face in, but fortunately for him, Krolg calmed down at that very moment. "Very well. I am guessing you have some sort of ulterior motive to this. You had better have a VERY good reason for doing this. If you don't, I swear...I'll make sure you regret it." Krolg exhaled angrily. "Well...I suppose I'll make for the best of it. Maybe they aren't so bad as I depict...it's just, sometimes...well, you know, one gets angry..." Terich nodded. "Of course, of course! I understand completely. I know you didn't mean quite everything you said...just spur of the moment type thing. Honestly, I am sorry." "Don't worry about it." Krolg sighed deeply. He had a full job on his hands. "I'll begin meditating and asking the spirits for guidance. Perhaps they will help me on this matter. I'm going to need all that I can get..." Shaking his head, Krolg left the room, heading for Orgrimmar. After waiting a few moments, Terich stepped outside as well. He glanced to his left, where Togron was. He was still chasing that blasted fly, except this time, he was holding up a pig. "Togron!" Terich yelled, addressing the orc. Togron dropped the pig and stared stupidly at Terich. "It's time to take a little trip! Let's go, I need you to come with me." Togron grinned widely. "Oh boy! A trip with Terich pal! We be going to far place, me hopes! Me remembers good adventures in the jungles of..." "Come with me. We're going to Undercity." Terich interrupted him. He started off towards the zeppelin, Togron trailing behind him. "Why we going there?" "To take care of a little...business." Sometime in the evening, under the Courtyard of the Undercity... Terich and Togron stood just out from under the stairs in the Courtyard. They had been there for a while, merely to make sure that when the guests arrived, they'd see them standing there, and know exactly where to go. Togron, of course, didn't know this, was fairly tired, and still being annoyed by the fly, who had stowed away on the zeppelin. He continually swatted at it, never getting close to touching it. Two figures approached from the darkness. At first, it was impossible to distinguish who they were, but in a few moments, Terich knew. It was Keraph and Sevarith. They were coming from inside the Undercity, glancing in different directions, looking for Terich or Togron. Terich waved at them and gestured for them to come over. They immediately started across towards them. Terich smiled as they approached. "Thank you for coming!" He bowed deeply. "I welcome you to our...humble meeting spot." He cackled lightly and turned and went into the room directly under the stairway. Togron, still being annoyed by the persistant fly, followed. Keraph and Sevarith came in right behind them. Keraph hesitated at the doorway. "Is it safe to continue with...him around?" He pointed at Togron, who was spinning in circles, muttering something. Terich shook his head. "We don't have to, really. But...I'd rather he be around, for now. He's going to guard the door." He turned to face Togron. "TOGRON! Move it! To the door! And don't listen in on us, either!" "Okay, Terich pal! Me guards door for you and other brain-deads." He grinned as he left the room, the fly trailing behind him. Keraph shook his head. "I honestly don't understand why you allow that pathetic being to remain as one of the living." Terich shrugged. "Neither do I. Well, we're...mostly here. Where's Shado..." As he spoke, a point of darkness appeared in the room. Four eyes appeared in front of them, followed by a mass of darkness that resembled a body. "So glad you could join us, Shadowspeak!" Terich clasped his hands together excitedly. "Yes, of course." Shadowspeak nodded, the eyes flicking across the room, observing the other occupants. "Please continue." "Ah, yes. Very well." Terich cleared his throat. "Well, as you are all aware, tomorrow, we are planning a very special event. Every one of our parts involved in it is extremely important. I want to remind you all of how vital this is. I also wish to remind you that utmost secrecy is required. NO ONE is to learn of the events that transpire. At least...no one is to figure out exactly what happened...and what was planned." The others nodded. Terich continued. "OF course, there will be Alliance in attendance. These guests are...to be untouched, for the first part of the ceremony. Until...the assasin strikes. The Alliance assasin." Terich cackled a bit at this. "At that moment, that crucial moment, when the bride falls to the ground, dead....we strike! We will talk of treachery and murder...and seeing Togron is so excited about his bride, and Krolg really distrusts the Alliance...I'm sure they will do their part. One way or the other." "So the Alliance are attending, only to die?" Keraph asked, with a slight smile on his face. "As I've said before, I like it! Who is it, exactly?" An evil grin slowly spread on Terich's face. "Why...the Scourge Slayers, of course." Keraph seemed pleased. "Very good! Things keep get getting better. I had been hoping that I might be able to...size them up." The others chuckled a bit at that. "Indeed, it will!" Terich answered enthusiastically. "Now...does anyone else have any comments?" Shadowspeak spoke up. "I would just like to take this moment to say that...the Alliance are going to suffer a great defeat here! A victory is in our grasp! The Alliance dare to oppose us? They shall die because of their foolishnes...none can resist the power of the Shadow. As you well know." Terich nodded in agreement. "Very true, very true. Anything else someone would like to ask or question?" No one raised their hands. "Oh, that reminds me!" Terich suddenly exclaimed. "Sevarith...how goes our plot thusfar? Is anyone suspicious so far? Are things seeming to be going well?" "Yes. They are going exactly as you and the others planned. No one is suspicious thus far, and there's no possible way the Alliance or Horde will be able to prove anything against us. Our plans are going very well, indeed." He paused for a moment. "Well, not our, but Shadowspeak's and Terich's plan." "And the girl?" Terich inquired. "How about her? The mind-control cap your using is working?" "Yes, it seems to. Though she puts up quite a struggle to free her mind, or was doing so, I have her under control now. Maybe she's learned that resistance is useless by now. It's possible that she's a far faster learner and a bit smarter then most other orcs." "Excellent!" Terich clapped his hands together excitedly. "Everything goes according to plan! All of your aid that you put forth is invaluable! Now, I'll tell you that..." *WHAM!* The roof shook suddenly, the result of a club being smashed against it. Terich looked up and then slapped his forhead. "Nevermind. Well, you know your parts in this! I've told you already! Very good, very good! Until tomorrow, my friends. Until tomorrow." The others nodded. Keraph and Sevarith left the room, each heading their separate ways. Terich nodded to Shadowspeak, and he began to dissapear. "Soon, my friend..." Terich cackled. "Soon..." Shadowspeak nodded, then dissapeared from sight, cackling. And Terich was alone. It was then he noticed that Togron was shouting with delight. "Me gets him! Me gets darn little bug that be such pain! Me gets him, yes me does!" He heard loud boots clanking on the stone upstairs, as Togron excitedly pranced around. Terich sighed and headed for the exit. It was time for them to return home. Tomorrow would be a very interesting day. At some point in the Night... "So you found out what it was?" "J'es. I ma' not o' been able to stop it, mon, but I saw what it be. Not'in to be worried bout, mon. It won' be arrivin' on time." "Good, good. Then everything is going well. Oh, and...prepare the Assasin...I will want to speak with him personally on the completion of his mission." "J'es. I be doin' d'at now. What choo be plannin'?" "Something special for our...friend. A reward for his efforts. You'll be watching. I'll tell you when to...deal to him what is proper and befitting to one who has served us as he has." "Dat's gonna be fun, mon. D'is is going to be one good night, mon..." "Yes, indeed. Yes, indeed...." ((Yet even more is coming! The next part will be created soon!))
  11. A Few Nights Earlier... "Is everything in order?" "Yah mon! I been makin' sure o' it. Dere's no way de Alliance will be able teh escape dis one, mon. D'ey is dead fo' sure. Very painfully too, me t'inks." "Excellent! Excellent! Very soon, our plan shall be carried out! All that remains is to take care of a few minor details. Once Infection joins our cause, with full knowledge beforehand or not, we have no chance of being defeated or countered. The involving of Sanctuary shall add to the chaos of the event, and Shadowspeak's part is invaluable!" "Joo wan' me to check up on da Assasin mon?" "Yes, yes, that would be ideal. Make sure he doesn't try anything stupid. He may try to warn some of our..."lucky" guests." "Yah. O' course, mon." "Now, go and take care of the matter! Not one mistake must be made! Everything must go exactly according to plan!" "J'es, mon." The Next Day... Terich slammed his fist against the table set before him, shattering the cheap silverware sitting upon it. His eyes glowed red with rage, and he trembled uncontrollably with fury. He held a letter in his hand, written in some sort of Alliance language. He slowly crumpled up the note and hurled it towards the far end of the room, shadow magic trailing behind it. He stood up and clenched his fists, breathing very slowly, trying to avoid growing any angrier. After several moments, he finally relaxed, straightened his hands, and sighed deeply. He began muttering about the note, an agitated tone in his voice, as he paced around the room. "So Kurohane won't come eh? How did she find out? Did she know, somehow, what we had in plan for her?! How did she find out?!" Terich began to almost scream in fury as he quickened his pace. "Is it as she says? A mere...something came up?! What did it, what did it?! Why did she decide not to come?! Blast it all!" He continually paced and spoke to himself nervously and excitedly. Gradually, his apprehension seemed to decrease. He began to mutter seemingly incoherent thoughts and sentences, things like "Nianther, blast....why did....she obviously...how could....perhaps....no, she couldn't....did he....I told him to watch..." and so forth. Finally, he stopped and glanced outside the window of the small orc hut. Togron was there, and he had his face pressed up against the glass, fogging up the window, grinning his usual dopey smile. Terich rubbed his temples and sighed. Togron said something, but Terich didn't catch it, seeing he said it behind a glass window with his face smeared up against it. It went something like..."Gazuba far! Beluga joofoo subzuba!" Terich glared angrily at Togron and then made a gesture indicating for Togron to come inside. He apparently didn't get the point. He noddes his head against the window, his helmet making a high pitched shrieking sound against the glass, and as he did such, he still was saying something. "GARUGIFG! MAUGI WAFOR!" Terich gritted his teeth as he heard the shriek of the metal hitting glass, and then Togron's talking. Finally, unable to stand it any more, he stormed outside the door and came to the window. Togron, apparently, didn't notice that Terich had gone anywhere. His head twitched a few times as his eyes searched the room, wondering what had happened to Terich. "Berik al!" He shouted into the window. Terich slapped his forehead with his right hand, and then tapped Togron on the shoulder. Togron whirled around, screaming. "AIIIE! IT BE EVIL MONSTER OF DEATH AND PIE EVILNESS AND IT......oh...it be you." Togron suddenly realized that it was Terich who tapped on his shoulder, not some horrendous harbinger of doom. He blinked several times, trying to figure out how Terich had gotten behind him, then grinned. "Me be so happy to see you, Terich pal! Me has goody good news!" "This had better be very good news..." Terich thought darkly. "Well? What is it?" Togron just looked at Terich for a few moments, an excited look on his face, then shouted out with joy, "ME IS GETTING MARRIED!" He beamed happily, oblivious to Terich's look of annoyance. "It be pretty orc lady, too. Not some undead dame. Not that undead dames be bad, but they be very stinky. And me thinks me be happier with orc then anything else. After all, me grrrreat, grrrreat, grrrreat, grrrrreat grandpappy married a troll." She murder him in his sleep. That be bad wedding night, me thinks." Togron suddenly had on a thoughtful expression on his face. "Me thinks they not have enough pie. Especially pork pie. What you think?" Terich took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I told you that a week ago." "That they need more pie?" "NO!" Terich nearly shouted at the oblivious orc. "The wedding! I told you that you were getting married weeks ago!" "To troll that murder grrrreat, grrrrea..." "NOOOO!" Terich was screaming by this time. "You stupid, pathetic, annoying, green-skinned PEON! I told you, weeks ago, that you'd be married to a lovely young orc named Ogrinna! Do you ever pay the slightest bit of attention to me?!" "Not really. You be going off crazy and getting mad all time. So me pretty much ignores you." Togron stated with an air of intelligence. "You not need get mad at me, Mr. Angry. Me just trying make con...uhh...con...conversion!" Terich sighed. "You mean "conversation?" "Uh...yeah. Me knew that. Anyways, did me tells you me is getting married this week?!" Togron beamed with excitement. Terich clenches his fists and closed his eyes. Togron watched as he began counting softly. Togron began humming. He even started singing a bit, which made Terich wrinkle his brows even more. Then, the singing started. "On Toooooooooop of sphagetti All Cooooooooooovered in cheese. Me lost me poor Pooooooorkchops. In carrots and peeeAAAAAAAAAs!" (On every long note, Togron shrieked horribly loud and out of key. Truly terrifying.) Terich's eyes snapped open, and he pointed. "GET OUT! NOW! MOVE!" He shouted at the orc, waving his arms frantically. "I don't want to see you again for the rest of the day! Go bother Krolg, or something!" Togron grinned, nodded, and took off towards the gates of Orgrimmar. Terich watched for a while, then sighed in relief. He slowly walked back into the hut. He glanced around him to make sure no one was watching, then opened up a secret passage in the wall that led downstairs. A new chamber he'd rebuilt since the last little accident. He quickly descended down the steps, shutting the door as he went. After going through various rooms with test equipment and various chemicals, he came to a small chamber with a large chair, sort of a throne, in the back-center of the room. This was his private domain, where he retreated to when he needed to be alone, or at least shut out from certain others in particular. This was his home, now. And what a fine place it was for him. The room had been sealed up with debris since the last "little" explosion had ripped through, but the debris had been cleared since then. The room was untouched, possibly protected by magical means. Terich stepped up to the throne and then sat in it, resting his arms on the arms of the chair. He glanced around his room. There were various works of art, books, and other objects, worn and marred from years of age. His eyes wandered about, then settled on a particular picture that was above the main hallway in which he entered the room from. It seemed to be highlighted, as if it were of primary importance in this room. It lay in the center and the light, provided by candles, illuminated it eerily. On it, there was a picture of a young man and woman, both of them being humans, with two small children at their sides. He stared at it for a few moments, with a completely blank expression on his face, then grimaced. An emotion that seemed to be a combination of pure hatred and extreme anguish seemed to fall upon his face, and his eyes shut tightly. He tightened his grip on the throne's arms, then opened his eyes. He stared straight ahead, ignoring everything in the room, his eyes focused on nothing in particular, lost in thought. A dark figure emerged from the shadows. Without glancing at it, Terich spoke. "Is everything ready?" "Yes mon. No one suspects nutt'in. Dey won't find out nutt'in eida, not until de who' ting comes crashin' down 'round em' Dey be gullible foo's if choo be askin' meh." "I'm not though, am I. Heh." "Dats true, mon." "So...it awaits only the command. The day when we are to have Togron's....wedding." "Dat be right." "Well, good. I trust our spy has been doing well?" "Oh, dat's right...E', uh...did some'tin' to de mail. E' put a letta' inside o' it, and I waddn't able teh stop de mon. I 'ave no idea what dat be sayin'." "WHAT?!" Terich snapped his head around towards the figure. "When did this happen?!" "A little while ago, mon. Not tah worry, mon. I be sure dat every'tins..." Terich cut him off with a loud "SILENCE!" Terich rubbed his forhead, thinking carefully. After a few moments, as the shadow watched him, he straightened up and stood out of his chair. "The letter may have been directed towards Kurohane. I just received a letter from her stating that she will not be attending. These events could possibly be connected. It's very possible. However, we've come so far, we have no choice. We will continue as planned. We'll see what will happen. It is possible that the letter was nothing...but, just the same...I want you to find it. Intercept the letter before it arrives, if it hasn't come in already. Delay it somehow. Kill the carrier of it, slaughter the mail workers, set fire to Stormwind, I don't care! Just make sure that letter, whatever it is, doesn't arrive on time, just in case it does involve our little...event." The figure nodded. "J'es, mon. I be doin' as you ask. Maybe I gettin' to do s'more killin'!" Chortling, the figure turned away and dissapeared from sight. Such is the way with rogues. Particularly this rogue. He seemed to have a fondness of dissapearing randomely. And then reappearing later. Terich suddenly began to cackle. His laughter echoed back to him in his hall. The pictures around him stared silently. He grinned, still chuckling lightly to himself, and sat back down in the throne. "Soon..." he muttered, his grin widening. "Very soon, my revenge shall be carried out. Soon, I shall avenge myself...." He began cackling again, his laughter echoing down the corridors. He continued to laugh for a few moments longer, then reached down and pulled out a small journal that was attatched to the throne, and began to flip through the pages. He stopped on a particular page, and his mouth curled into a grin. "The Alliance," he whispered slowly, "Shall pay for what they've done....with their lives." ((To be continued, shortly, with more details!))
  12. ((Just so everyone knows...I, Terich, did not write this one. This was Togron. He used my name on accident. Heh heh.))
  13. Me was on case...case of murdered bride. Me hiked up little hill where wedding was, in Mulgore. Me came to investigate murder of bride. Me wanted to finds out who done it. Me had reviewed facts lots and lots. But answer not come easy. So me decided it was bestest to go to scene of crime. Me brings along buddy. His name be Hajaqar. He be side-kick. Me sees her. There was her dead body, still lieing where she die at. Where Night Elf sap had shoved dagger through chest. Me could hardly look at her. But me knew me had to. She was victim. As me examines body, me not finds anything me not seen before. So me decides to ask Hajaqar question, "You sees anything Hajaqar pal?" Hajaqar look at me, then he look back down at ground and open mouth to speak, "Nut'in, mon. All I know is d'ese Alliance be dirteh dogs. Oddah d'en d'at. I be stumped mon." Me was afraid me had to agree. Me had questions. Lots questions about Night Elf sap that murders bride. Why he do it? Who hire him? And why did he not bring pie? Me wish me had more answers. "Hajaqar pal. Me thinks we dealing with pro. Night Elf sap that kills bride was genius! He not wears shinies! So me not sees him!" Hajaqar look at me for almost whole minute. Me not knows why. Me decides me needs to review facts with Hajaqar pal. "Okay Hajaqar pal. Here be facts. The Teelia dame sat up on rock to left of bride. The Nouri sap was right next to the dame. And there was two Night Elf dames sitting at foot of rock with Clys. We has guards all over entrance. And me sure that Night Elf sap comes from behind bride. And me was next to bride...why was me next to bride..." Then, the answer hit me like a solid bullet from a Mage-Eye Blunderbuss. Me was one that was gettsing married. "Me knows why now Hajaqar pal! Me was gettsing married!" Hajaqar looked at me for little while. Then he opens his mouth, "Yo mon...how long did it take tah figure d'at out? Wait, nevahmind! I don' wanna know..." Hajaqar was acting wierd. He usually little bit smarter then this. Me guess he not able to comprehend me genius. Me decides me better inspect rest of place for missing clues. Me was inspecting where the Teelia dame had sat at wedding. Me not finds anything that out of usual. So me looks over at where the Nouri sap had been sitting. What this?? It be clue! Me finds...right where the Nouri sap was sitting...in very spot...a BIG rock! Bum bum bUUUUm! Me tried to piece two together. Me not figures anything out. So me guess they not connected. "Hajaqar pal! You finds anything?" Hajaqar leaned over and picked something up and starts shouting to me, "All ah foun' was d'is strand o' white 'air. Night Elf, I t'ink 'is dah assassin's 'air." Me walks over to Hajaqar to inspects hair meself. "Let me sees hair." Hajaqar started handsing to me so me takes it. Me inspects it closely. Aha! From inspecting simple strand of hair, me learns assassin's name, address, and motive! Me'd better tell Hajaqar pal. "Hajaqar pal! Hajaqar pal! Me learns identity of assassin!" "'Ow dah 'eck did yah do d'at from lookin' at a l'il t'ing o' 'air?" "Me genius." "Oh yah. Fo'got, mon. Well, what be dah identity?" "Assassin's name was a Night Elves name. Address be where Night Elves live, and motive was because someone tells him to." Hajaqar stare at me again for little while, then he speak, "Mon...I t'ink we all knew d'at paht already. Can yah be a li'l mo' specific? Like, dah guys name was Jungy? And 'e lives in I'onfo'ge? And 'e did eet tah settle an' ol' sco' wit' d'is Ogrinna?" Hajaqar made sense. He not usually does, but me guess there first time for everything. Me decides me'd better investigate path of assassin after he murders bride. Me looks at ground where footprints be. Me knew this sap wasn't too bright when me sees that footprints leads straight to where Fhenrir pal was. But wait! One of Night Elf sap's footprints point towards where the Nouri sap was sitting during wedding! Me looks over to where Hajaqar pal was, he was mumbling questions to self. Me hears something about "No body" which me thinks means he puzzle because there was no body of Night Elf sap. Me such genius sometimes me amazes self. Me'd better say something, "Hajaqar pal! Hajaqar pal! Me solves case! Me figures out who done it!" Me sees Hajaqar pal poke his head around tree with bored look on face, "Wha' is eet d'is time?" "Look! One of assassin's footprints point towards where the Nouri sap was sitting! See? See? This prove one thing! Nouri done it!" "Okay mon...lemme get d'is straight...you t'ink, because of a footprint, pointing towards dah Nouri guy...d'at 'e did it?" "It quite obvious me thinks." "D'as stupid mon! Stupid! "Maybe you just not as perceptive as meself!" "Maybe I gotta brain!" "You just jealous that me be a super, card-carrying genius." "Yah. Whatevah." Hajaqar pal was kind of moody. So me decided me should go solo for right now. Besides, me already had answer to case. It was an Alliance bum with no pie and unshined that murders bride. That means it was a pie-hating, not-too-shiny Alliance sap that hires the assassin. Case Closed.
  14. Terich

    Togron

    Terich's grin slowly turns to a frown as Togron's name is brought up. "Togron? TOGRON?! What about him? He's an idiotic, pathetic, fool! An idiot! A disgrace to his kind, I say! A fool that won't leave me alone! He constantly annoys me with his never ending prattle!" Terich sighs and rubs his forhead. "However...he is useful in combat. He is very effective and powerful. I suppose I should be grateful for that." Terich smiles ruefully. "He's something that's useful, but comes at a heavy price. I swear, one of these days......"
  15. "Ah, Shadowspeak!" Terich grins at the mention of his name. "He is an excellent friend of mine! One of the few I have the privelege to call as such, in fact. We share a few...similarities. That's why he's my companion. The most important similarity, of course, being our hatred and annoyance of Togron." Terich leans back and laughs heavily, apparently pleased with himself for making such a "clever" joke. "AH HA HA HA...ha..heh heh...er...it's a joke. Ahem. Well, anyways, Shadowspeak enjoys slaughtering the Alliance, I believe, and that's very important. He's also as obsessed with power as I am. Yes, Shadowspeak's a fine Forsaken, very wise, and possesses very useful knowledge. And his power is even greater then my own! I am truly..."blessed" to be able to call him a friend....