Post by Gaien on Aug 4, 2005 20:54:37 GMT -5
As Gaien lays down by the fire and drifts off to sleep, he dreams of that dimension where his alter ego awaits…
Quite confused as to what was happening, Serissi placed a hand on the edge of the wooden box she wad woken up in and pulled herself upright. She wore only her wedding dress. The very dress she had died in…
When the scourge had come through Lordaeron she had been married to a young lieutenant in the army, Gaien. He had bravely taken up arms against the prince betrayer Arthas and fought well, or so the messenger had said. On the day they were to be wed Gaien was slain in battle against Arthas, the Lich King’s second in command.
She had contacted the plague earlier that morning and by nightfall, shortly after the messenger left with the news of her fiancée’s ill-timed death, she had wasted away to the terrible disease… or so she thought…
Now she glanced about at her stonewall surroundings. An eerie quiet set about her and even her movements seemed muffled and distant as she placed two rotting feet on the stone floor.
Rotting?
Serissi examined herself carefully. She was a walking corpse, a pile of flesh and bone animated by some unknown and unholy power. Oddly, she didn’t care. The only emotion she now felt was the need for revenge. Revenge against the Lich King and the prince betrayer!
Before her rose a set of steps that seemed to lead to the outside, judging by the trickle of twilight that was cast upon the stairs. With purpose behind her wobbly steps she climbed.
Two things upon exiting her burial chamber greeted her. First was the faint light of the moon, letting her see her pale, rotten skin clearly. The skin had rotted away at most of the joints and several of her teeth had fallen out. Her organs had dried and she could only speak in harsh, gurtle sounds. Second was another risen dead, chanting in her direction.
As he finished whatever incantation he had cast, the dead man spoke.
“Good, you are awake! Too much time has been lost in bringing you back; we thought you might sleep forever. Now you will serve the Dark Lady or we will return you to your grave… forever!”
“What’s going on?!” She demanded
“Too long have you slept while the world passed you by. The Dark Lady has broken free of the Litch King’s slavery and seeks all those that would aid her in destroying the prince betrayer.” A frustrated look crossed his putrid features as he spoke.
“Who is this Dark Lady?”
“Arthas and his Scourge invaded Quel'Thalas and laid siege to the elves' crumbling defenses. Sylvanas Windrunner, the Ranger-General of Silvermoon, put up a valiant fight, but Arthas eventually eradicated the high elf army and battled through to the Sunwell. In a cruel gesture of his dominance, he even raised Sylvanas' defeated body as a banshee, cursed to endless undeath in the service of Quel'Thalas' conqueror.
After the war, Half of the standing undead forces, led by the banshee Sylvanas Windrunner, staged a coup for control over the undead empire. Arthas, called by the Lich King, was forced to leave the Scourge in the hands of his lieutenant, Kel'Thuzad, as the war escalated throughout the Plaguelands.
Ultimately, Sylvanas and her rebel undead, we call ourselves the Forsaken, claimed the ruined capital city of Lordaeron as their own. Constructing their own bastion beneath the wrecked city, we the Forsaken have vowed to defeat the Scourge and drive Kel'Thuzad and his minions from the land.
Sylvanas is now called the Dark Lady and it is to her that we serve. Now you must choose to either serve her and further our cause, or be reduced to ash and forgotten on the winds.”
“I will serve”
“Good, then go now down the hill, Serissi, and speak with Warlock Malkrin. He will instruct you further on how you can serve the Dark Lady.”
As Serissi journeyed down the hill to meet her new instructor she couldn’t help but smile. Instead of taking on the Litch King and his army b herself, she would have the help of a powerful banshee and an army of the damned…
Quite confused as to what was happening, Serissi placed a hand on the edge of the wooden box she wad woken up in and pulled herself upright. She wore only her wedding dress. The very dress she had died in…
When the scourge had come through Lordaeron she had been married to a young lieutenant in the army, Gaien. He had bravely taken up arms against the prince betrayer Arthas and fought well, or so the messenger had said. On the day they were to be wed Gaien was slain in battle against Arthas, the Lich King’s second in command.
She had contacted the plague earlier that morning and by nightfall, shortly after the messenger left with the news of her fiancée’s ill-timed death, she had wasted away to the terrible disease… or so she thought…
Now she glanced about at her stonewall surroundings. An eerie quiet set about her and even her movements seemed muffled and distant as she placed two rotting feet on the stone floor.
Rotting?
Serissi examined herself carefully. She was a walking corpse, a pile of flesh and bone animated by some unknown and unholy power. Oddly, she didn’t care. The only emotion she now felt was the need for revenge. Revenge against the Lich King and the prince betrayer!
Before her rose a set of steps that seemed to lead to the outside, judging by the trickle of twilight that was cast upon the stairs. With purpose behind her wobbly steps she climbed.
Two things upon exiting her burial chamber greeted her. First was the faint light of the moon, letting her see her pale, rotten skin clearly. The skin had rotted away at most of the joints and several of her teeth had fallen out. Her organs had dried and she could only speak in harsh, gurtle sounds. Second was another risen dead, chanting in her direction.
As he finished whatever incantation he had cast, the dead man spoke.
“Good, you are awake! Too much time has been lost in bringing you back; we thought you might sleep forever. Now you will serve the Dark Lady or we will return you to your grave… forever!”
“What’s going on?!” She demanded
“Too long have you slept while the world passed you by. The Dark Lady has broken free of the Litch King’s slavery and seeks all those that would aid her in destroying the prince betrayer.” A frustrated look crossed his putrid features as he spoke.
“Who is this Dark Lady?”
“Arthas and his Scourge invaded Quel'Thalas and laid siege to the elves' crumbling defenses. Sylvanas Windrunner, the Ranger-General of Silvermoon, put up a valiant fight, but Arthas eventually eradicated the high elf army and battled through to the Sunwell. In a cruel gesture of his dominance, he even raised Sylvanas' defeated body as a banshee, cursed to endless undeath in the service of Quel'Thalas' conqueror.
After the war, Half of the standing undead forces, led by the banshee Sylvanas Windrunner, staged a coup for control over the undead empire. Arthas, called by the Lich King, was forced to leave the Scourge in the hands of his lieutenant, Kel'Thuzad, as the war escalated throughout the Plaguelands.
Ultimately, Sylvanas and her rebel undead, we call ourselves the Forsaken, claimed the ruined capital city of Lordaeron as their own. Constructing their own bastion beneath the wrecked city, we the Forsaken have vowed to defeat the Scourge and drive Kel'Thuzad and his minions from the land.
Sylvanas is now called the Dark Lady and it is to her that we serve. Now you must choose to either serve her and further our cause, or be reduced to ash and forgotten on the winds.”
“I will serve”
“Good, then go now down the hill, Serissi, and speak with Warlock Malkrin. He will instruct you further on how you can serve the Dark Lady.”
As Serissi journeyed down the hill to meet her new instructor she couldn’t help but smile. Instead of taking on the Litch King and his army b herself, she would have the help of a powerful banshee and an army of the damned…