Wraithanos wrote:A Ghost's Story
I can remember the weight of the cold, pushing down on me... the drowning feeling as what spark of my soul that remained was enveloped and slowly consumed by the darkness... My dwindling light struggled against the inevitable, but it finally guttered out, and was no more. Only silence remained.
Numb...
Silent...
Empty...
Endless...
Suddenly a piercing, bright, column of light tore through the black. The cacophony of sound that came was beautiful; haunting; deafening; maddening, and so much more - all at once. I tried to scream. Pain followed. Intense; shredding; searing; throbbing pain. I saw flashes and flickers of images. Memories? My memories? I could see a Sin'Dorei... I recognized the elf's armor, his blade - they were mine. I watched the elf slay Human and Orc, Night Elf and Troll, beasts and demons - was this elf...me? It must be...but how? Another sudden wrenching pain tore through me, building on the first wave. Flashes of mountains and snow followed. A great fortress of ice and stone... A strange and sickening feeling of evil emanated from this place...
I knew that Death itself dwelt there...
The elf from before streaked into view, atop a great flying beast. The creature lacked flesh yet moved as if alive. It had the head and wings of a bird, but the body of a great cat. The beast screeched as suddenly an explosion thundered in it's path across the sky. The elf steered his mount to dive sharply. They sped downward, weaving in and out of the path of siege artillery. The ground below was as a carpet of insects pulsing and shifting, but as the two drew nearer the ground I could see that what seemed to be insects were in truth soldiers. Alliance and Horde soldiers assaulted the massive fortress, and faced down a seemingly endless flow of undead that poured forth from the structures every crevice. The elf pulled his mount to climb skyward once more. They ascended swiftly, as the surrounding battle raged on. A sudden beam of blinding light blasted through the highest tower of the fortress, shattering the stone of the structure. It slowly began to topple. The battle paused for a moment at the spectacle.
The elf banked around to get a better look, slowing his mount to take in the image. The beam of light from the tower had sustained and seemed to pierce the heavens themselves. The elf suddenly cried out in pain, as did I... A gout of light spewed from his eyes and mouth. The light was being pulled from him and the pain he felt as it was happening, I shared with him. I could feel the weight of the cold, pushing down on me... the drowning feeling as what spark of my soul that remained was enveloped and slowly consumed by the darkness... My dwindling light struggled against the inevitable, but it finally guttered out, and was no more. Only silence remained.
Numb...
Silent...
And then a whisper...
A voice strange, yet familiar... A female's voice, "Your time is not yet done hero. Your service is demanded by the..."
"Stand down witch. This one is will not served your Banshee Queen yet... For now, this one is mine...", another voice interrupted.
The voices were trailing whispers. The female's tone was ethereal and removed, yet harsh and uncaring, whereas the male's voice carried a rasp, a commanding, confident cadence that seem to brook no challenge.
"Who dares to presume to tell..." the female voice began again. It was cut short by her sudden scream and was silenced just as suddenly.
"Hm. I expect to be thanked for not ending your miserable existence witch. That spell will only 'detain' you long enough for me to finish my task here," the male voice continued, "and the silence it affords me is welcome respite from your petty and sanctimonious tone. You have found an ally in Sylvanas for now, but are still a mere servant, and beneath MY attentions presently. You would do well to learn your place witch. Now that THAT unpleasantness has been dealt with, on to the task at hand..."
A pinpoint of soft, white light appeared before me. It seemed far away at first, but in moments seemed to engulf me. I could not shield my eyes as the light grew brighter and more intense. The light grew so bright that the enveloping darkness retreat from me in all directions. Within moments the light replaced the darkness entirely. I could begin to feel again. Tingling of sensation flooded my senses all at once. The coldness ebbed from me, my eyes began to focus, I could feel cool earth and the warm air on my skin. My head began to throb, and the world around reeled and spun about. My still focusing eyes looked to make sense of anything.
My hearing was not much better, but before I fell faint, I heard the male voice once more, "Welcome back kindred." he said, "I am pressed for time unfortunately, but know this - You are Wraithanos. Once a celebrated hero of the Horde, and my ally. I have given you the gift of life once more and shall call upon you soon. Until that time, you will need to regain your strength. I will return you to our people's city presently, that you may recover in comfort, but remember this pain you have experienced this day, for it will serve you well in times to come. Regretfully, I must depart, but other matters require my attention..."
The amorphous form that the voice belonged to was gone before I could see his face, and I could remain conscious no longer.
When next I awoke I was in the care of a Sin'Dorei merchant's wife and daughter, in the back of their wagon that was heading to Silvermoon City. They told me that I had slept for nearly a tenday, and that we were soon to arrive at the Sin'Dorei capital. The merchant told me he was instructed to nurse me back to health and take me to Sunstrider Isle. When I asked who had instructed him so, he replied that the elf did not give his name, but that he had been paid well enough to see the task completed.
The wagon crossed the last bridge to deposit me on Sunstrider Isle and the merchant handed me a pack and a sheathed sword, as well as a sealed letter. The merchant gave a dismissing nod and began to turn the wagon back toward the city proper. I unsheathed the sword a few inches to assess the blade; it was serviceable. The pack held a suit of simple, light chain mail armor and little else. I then turned my attention to the sealed letter. The black wax of the seal bore a mark I did not recognize. I opened the letter and there were only three words written; 'Fear the Grin...' signed 'Vhares'...
Edited by: Wraithanos on 09/22/2011 - 21:06 .