Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Shadows - Chronicles of a Lost Soul ❯ The Kiss of Nightfall - Chapter 3 ( Chapter 33 )

Chapter 3:

 

 

Screams fill the air as I enter the village of Havenshire. It seems the other deathknights are already making good progress in terrorizing the Scarlet Crusade here.

Some of the workers are quite valorous. They are so brave it already is pure stupidity. Our archers let a rain of arrows go down over the whole area yet they keep up their work, collecting wood for the sawmill or working on the field.

How can one be such an idiot? Or maybe..., maybe they are forced to do this. I see guards looking out for every single one of them. But well..., I guess it doesn't matter in the end, for they will all fall to my blade.

Even as I approach the first worker of the crusade he keeps on working as long as I am not in a range where I become dangerous for him. I know that he noticed me, he keeps looking over to me regularly.

As I raise my blade to strike, he starts trembling in fear and crouches down.

“Have mercy with me..., I beg of you! Please... I have family, I'm father of five children!”

I don't really listen to what he says. The voice in my head overshadows it all.

`No mercy... they shall all die!'

My sword cuts through the air as well as the body of the human. Blood is spilled onto the ground, something tells me that soon a lot of the mushrooms from the rest of the plaguelands will start growing here.

I make my way further to the sawmill. I decided to go there first, then head towards the field and on my way back I will grab a horse from the stables near by. I'm curious if that `rider' is really able to give me such a steed.

None of the crusaders I meet is a real opponent for me. It does not take long for the urge to kill come back to my mind. As I enter the sawmill I cut down the first worker immediately. As blood is spread and flying threw the air some of it lands on my hands, a few spurts even hit my face. Something about this feeling is deceiving. I just love it.

The urge to kill is always followed by a unknown rage giving you strength and endurance. I slaughtered everyone in the sawmill within only a few minutes. The freshly cut wood now lies there drenched in blood. This would surely form a nice crimson colouring matching their clothes.

As I leave, the rage consumes my mind. I see how the crusaders in front of me move their lips. I see how they pray to the light, yet I don't hear anything of it. My senses are numbed. My sight is the only thing still clear. All I hear in my head are the words of the Lich King.

`No mercy!' ... `No survivors!' ... `Mercy is for the weak!'

I will not be merciful...

I will not leave survivors..

I will not be weak!

Flesh is torn asunder from my blade with every step I take. Blood is running through the green fields like small rivers, forming pools and ponds in little dips. It will take a while for the earth to suck it all up.

Terror is upon the civilians of Havenshire. With a strong strike I break open the poorly locked doors to the small cottages. There they are standing in groups of four to five. The old and frail as well as the young and weak next to each other. My blade makes no difference between its victims. The despair in their eyes fuels my madness. My killing spree could probably keep on going for ages.

Some of them try to run... little do they know that this will be useless. The longer I keep on fighting, the stronger my connection to the shadows gets. Firing a jet of shadow magic at my opponent is rather easy for me once I spent a while in combat.

The only ones that are even more pathetic are those that do not run, but try to fight me. Some of them punch against my armour hitting one of the few spikes injuring themselves.

`Show them true despair!'

I will master... I will, for I am your arm, your rage, your retribution..., your weapon!

As I return from the fields and make my way to the stables, the earth under my feet is already rather squishy. A lot of blood was shed here today.

I reach the stable only moments later. I cut down the guards at its entrance without bigger effort and take the time to have a look around. I find a beautiful black horse which I decide to take with me. If that may be undead or a demon, this one should surely be a fine deathcharger.

I got onto the back of the animal and the moment I want to head off I notice that the creature is rather headstrong. It takes a while until it runs out of energy and a few kicks in the side for it to move forward at all. It even tries to throw me off several times, one time it almost succeeds.

The way to the breach is not far and once the horse does what I want from it I can travel fairly fast back to the base camp.

Salanar stops right in front of me.

“This specimen looks stout and sturdy. Well done...”

As I get off the back of the horse Salanar lies his hand onto the face of the animal. A dark fog consumes it within seconds, only a blurry image remaining . It snickers loudly in fear. Salanar tries to calm it down by talking to it quietly.

“Be calm my friend, it will all be over soon.”

The moment the creature has completely vanished, also the fog disappears entirely. Salanar then turns to me.

“I sent the horse to the realm of shadows. A dark rider there will kill it and revive it as a deathcharger. So if you are willing to obtain such a mount, you have to follow it into this elemental plane. I will send you there if you wish and you will have to challenge the rider of the steed. Defeat him, kill him, offer his soul rest and claim the mount as your own. The riders are spirits of deathknights lost in the realm of shadows. So if you fail, you will end as one of them. And watch out for the tormented souls of other necromancers. They are bodiless creatures drawn to sources of shadow energy like any deathknight, but concerning you..., you should be a real magnet for them.”

I don't take long to think about it, I agree and soon I'm also surrounded by a dark grey mist. The world around me turns grey. The screams coming from Havenshire sound more and more damped until everything is silent around me.

All is quiet in this realm, not even the voice of the Lich King reaches me here. It is similar to the world I was in, yet, it is lifeless. Not a single person is disturbing the peaceful silence. I even clearly hear the grass crumble under my feet. This silence is plainly frightening. A light wind blows through the air.

I walk to the edge of the camp and take a look down into the image of Havenshire. I see the rider between the sawmill and the fields. I wonder if there is only one around here. I take the western slope to get down to the fields.

I want to get out of here as fast as possible, no matter what. Something about this realm is freaking me out.

I pass the saw mill in a hurry. The rider has spotted me. The horse rears and the dark horsemen comes charging towards me. I dodge him as good as I can. It is much easier to draw energy in this plane. I immediately can send a jet of shadow magic flying at the horsemen.

“You fool...”, he takes it as a straight hit, yet it hardly does anything. “Now die, outsider...”, his voice is hollow.

He comes again charging at me. I have to dodge, but at least land a hit on him. The problem about this is that I should better not injure the horse while doing so. I have no other chance. I try to dodge the horse as close as possible. It hit me with its side which sends me flying after all, yet my blade has taken the horsemen off his mount. He lies in the grass next to me, black blood running from the cut on his chest. He doesn't move a single inch, nevertheless I decide to take my weapon and finish him off for good. With a heavy thrust I drive my sword through his armour and body. I hear how bones are shattered as I do it.

The horse comes towards me on its own. I guess the Scourge is bound to more rules than you would imagine, all those strange rituals. I get onto the back of the animal quickly. Something starts to draw my attention. I hear whispers. Where are they coming from? Only seconds ago everything was quiet.

“Hunger...”

I look around. Then I see them. Black shades slowly coming towards me and the dead body of the horsemen. They come from the fields and the sawmill.

“Blood... Thirst... Hunger...”

They repeat these three words over and over again. At least fifteen or so come from the sawmill alone. Why didn't I notice them before? I spur my horse and ride off to the camp of the Scourge. The shades don't seem too interested in me, but the black blood of the rider. How fortunate for me.

I rush towards the image of the breach in this world. As I look over my shoulder I see how the shades are turning towards me. Damn it!

Then I notice it. That god forsaken horsemen did not tell me how to get out of this realm!

“SALANAR! I curse you!”, I scream out loud in anger.

Only a moment later I see his shadowy figure appearing out of his tent. I see his lips moving, but I don't hear anything at all. Slowly everything around me gets its colour back. I also hear the screams again, as well as the moaning of the ghouls.

“You succeeded where other initiates fail. I was awaiting this outcome, yet I have to say I'm still surprised.” He looks at my steed. It has a black fur just like the one of the Highlord with two large horns framing its head. Its hooves are glowing in a bright blue so that it almost seems white. The biggest difference is that its wearing a black armour, but I guess this difference in colour is just a difference in taste of the horsemen that revived it.

I get off its back and dismiss it to the plane of shadows. At least I assume that is the place were it's going to. After all it isn't a 'real' undead horse like the ones of the Forsaken, it looks more like a fiend or demon.

“This is a fine mount you have now. Be sure to give it a proper name.”

I couldn't care less about naming my horse.