This is a story I started, then converted into a script to use as a targeted resume to work for Blizzard. I WANT to be a quest designer for Blizzard, doesn't matter for what game. At first, this was going to be just a story. Novella length, most likely, about Titus Threeblade's growth into a Death Knight from a rogue. Evilution was the working name. Then it evolved to Evolution of A Death Knight. The story is more than just this, it's actually a RP of my main characters in all my orig stories. See, I started this series called Fine Upstanding Pirates. In it, James Threeblade, Davina Scarlett, Zak Leary, and Greg and Tony Montana are the partners of a think tank called Frequently Universal Perspective, a front for their criminal empire.
Anyway, they became my go to team. Every story since then has spun off their dynamic. Five man team. Smart. Resourceful. Whatever I needed. I did Fine Upstanding Chefs which will be added to my fiction press account. Anyway, so, here it is, Titus: Evolution Of A Death Knight
Part 1
A shadow among shadows shifted. A dagger was pressed into the back of the target and he heard whispered, "Hello, Fahrad."
The man stiffened until the blade was pulled away. When he turned, the attacker shifted out of the shadows and smiled. "Grand Master."
"Titus, you've come. Good. I have a quest for you and your crew." The Grand Master studied the rogue who had snuck up on him so skillfully, looking over the changes that time had wrought on the young man.
Four more people squatted off in the distance, throwing dice carved from an Undead's skull as they waited. One, a high elf paladin female named Devinia Scarlettblade, the second a night elf shaman named Zaccharias Mindleary, the third a gnome mage named Gregorias Blackmountain, and his foster-brother, a dwarven priest named Antonius. Titus waved them over.
Devinia sidled up to her lover and whispered lightly in his ear. Titus' mind blanked for a moment, then he shook his head and asked, "The quest?"
"Lord Glavius Threeblade was assassinated eight days ago."
Titus's mind blanked again, only this time white hot rage replaced it instantly as his hand crushed the pewter flagon he had been handed, Fahrad had handed him. Blood and mead mingled together on the table as he whispered, "My father? Who did it?" Few had known that the man had no resurrections left in his soul.
"We don't know. You'll have to return home and look into it. But there is good news. Your revenge will net you a tidy sum. Brother Vilius has placed a bounty on the murderers' heads." Fahrad pushed over a scroll and Titus looked it over. He nodded at the man, then stood and walked out as Devinia laid her hands on his wound. When she pulled it away, the flesh was pink and tender, but slowly reverting to normal and unwounded.
Outside of the massive manor, the group summoned their mounts, quiet, allowing their leader to grieve.
Titus pulled himself onto his black Swift Zulian Tiger, then turned to look at his crew. They all rode Swift Razzashi Raptors, all dark orange with white markings. He paid the most attention to his lover, Devinia. A high elf, she was part of the alliance but many mistook her for the offshoot blood elves with their green eyes. He closed his own a moment, then kicked his mount to speed and rode off.
When they arrived in Southshore, one-by-one they paid for mounts, then flew to Ironforge.
In the underground mountain city, they remounted and rode to the tram.
In silence, they boarded and took the long trip to Stormwind and James' home.
They rode through the Dwarven section, then through cathedral square and on into the park. In one of the largest homes, three voidwalkers stood guard and moved to intercept, then stopped when Titus removed his helm. They bowed as the group walked in.
Titus called out. "Byron? Savros?"
An elderly man appeared, then bowed deeply. "My lord. Your mother is in her drawing room."
"Show them to my quarters." As long as they had been campaigning against the Scourge and occasionally the Horde, until now, they had never seen Titus's familial home.
As they were led away, they saw he had grown up in luxury they had never dreamt of. Precious woods from outland were used and ancient artifacts from some of the most dangerous temples lined the walls in alcoves. Unlike most homes with works of art so ancient they ended up looking like museums, there were many touches of family relics. Paintings of Titus as a youth with the rest of his family were found occasionally while more paintings of Titus or his siblings as children or babes were shown, bouncing on the knees of their grandparents or influential people.
"So, you never realized he was rich?" Zaccharias asked as he poured mulled wine for Devinia and himself. He left the pitcher just out of reach of Antonius. The priest scowled, then used the crook of his staff to pull it closer and pour for himself and his brother.
"No. I mean, sure, he bought me that necklace, but we had just come out of the Mana Tombs and he had found that enchanting recipe that someone bought for so much gold."
Titus stopped in the door of his mother's drawing room. She sat on an old chair, holding a small boy as he tried to read a storybook. Titus smiled then said, "Hello, son."
The boy turned his head, dropped the book, then slid off the lap of his grandmother and rushed across the room. Wrapping his arms around his father's thigh, he said, "Daddy."
"Mother." Titus picked up his son, begat on one of their former maids. The boy's mother had died in childbirth.
Titus' mother smiled at him weakly. "Titus, son."
He set his son down. "Uncle Zaccharias is in my room with my friends. Go say hello, Uthern."
The boy nodded and darted off.
Titus turned to his mother. "How did it happen?"
"Your father had just said goodbye to me and I was watching him mount his horse when a Dreadlord appeared, killed him, the guards, then ran out of the city. None were able to even slow him."
Titus blinked. "A Dreadlord?" There were runes and wards protecting Stormwind, though occasional weaker demons made it in through the small cracks that would develop due to the masses of power at play. Larger demons were still kept out for the most part. If the Burning Legion could break them wide enough for that much power, the city was in for great trouble.
"They think a traitor summoned him. The guards are looking into it. But your father's guild have put out a bounty on the Dreadlord itself."
She lost it at that point and began crying on her son's shoulder, ignoring the smell of death that had long ago infused into his armor.
After a short time, she pulled herself away and went to her private bedchamber though he had rarely seen her use it. Titus turned and walked to the trophy room. Inside, he stared at the trophies of his father's youth. Dragon heads, heads of orcs, and so many other creatures of the Horde. Strange, yet not. His father had once been Ambassador to the Horde and had been one of the best keepers of the fragile peace. The old man had had many friends in amongst the Horde, including Thrall, though his many enemies amongst the Horde hung on this wall.
Titus touched his only trophies in the room. His old Bloodfang armour, and his Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker sword were locked in place by an ancient ward. He hesitated, then reached out. Titus dropped his Blade of the Unrequited and then began emptying his packs. Quests they were currently on were ignored. Revenge was all he wanted.
His Slayer's armour cleansed, Titus went to find his crew. He smiled at his son, then said, "Uthern, I smelled cookies when I passed the kitchens."
The boy brightened and rushed off again.
Devinia watched her lover flip a chair and straddle it. "A Dreadlord killed my father. The bounty is one thousand gold. Split five ways, it's still a goodly amount, not including what we'll come across. Do you want to come?"
Devinia ignore the question and instead asked, anger evident in her voice as she did so; "You have a child and you never told me? We've been together almost three years."
"How does that matter right now?" he replied. "I didn't tell you. You know why? I forget about him. His mother was a scullery maid. I'm sorry if my career as a Silver Blade is more important to me than a bastard who will never rule this house." He wasn't being callous. Just truthful. As the eldest, he was now Lord Threeblade. And even though Uthern was his firstborn, the child's mother made him ineligible to hold the title he deserved. Titus hoped the child would join the Silver Blades—the thief clan his mother had been part of and now him—or a Knight of the Silver Hand as his father had been and all his siblings belonged to. "Look, I care about my son but I rarely see him. He knows I'm busy in the service of our king. In fact, the two often play together. Now, are you coming or are you going to keep bitching about something I didn't keep from you willfully."
She glared at him, then turned her head and looked at Zaccharias and the others who instantly wiped the amused looks off their faces.
Titus stood. "The baths are most likely prepared. Get cleaned up and Byron will clean your weapons and armor and drop off anything you want dropped off at your bank vaults. I'll be in the meditation vault."
Titus left as Devinia scowled, then stood and asked, "Where are the baths?"
Zaccharias told her the way.
Titus stood in the exact center of the room and looked up at the rose crystal, bathing the room in a pinkish-gold glow. His father's Dragonstrike mace floated in a column of pale violet light, waiting for one of his brother's to become powerful enough to wield it.
He pressed his hand against the column and smiled at the warmth it pulsed through his body.
Titus dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, pushing all the extraneous thoughts out of his mind. The son of a Paladin and Rogue, he had taken the thief's path though retained some abilities his father had trained into him. He could cast Holy Shock and Exorcism and his awareness of undead seemed to be something his father had passed on.
"I am not a Paladin, father. Revenge shall be mine. May the Gods accept you amongst them." Titus stood and went to find Devinia. He needed to apologize if he wanted to be inside her.
Devinia sighed luxuriously as she dropped deeper into the water. Her long hair piled on the top of her head, she looked at the silvered glass on the wall. "I think I should cut off my hair," she murmured to herself.
When the door pushed open, she dropped deeper into the water. Then she smiled and slid up, letting her breasts part the water. "Titus."
He held up his hand. "I'm sorry about yelling at you."
"Shut up, take off your clothes, and get in here and scrub my back."