First Death
A World of Warcraft RP Prologue
As always, World of Warcraft and its characters belong to Blizzard Entertainment. Cianan, and her story belongs to me.
This is the prologue to my baby priests RP Story. As an Undead Priest, one must have a reason, a story if you will, as to why they are Undead. What happened in the moments before their first death, and what will drive them in the future. Some crave vengeance, for some it's a chance at redemption, and for others…mayhap the truly corrupt…to create havoc and chaos in the lands of Azeroth. For my Priest, who knows…each day is a new and daunting experience, with new friends, enemies, and challenges. The hand of destiny can be change and altered in a single thought or action.
A poisoned dagger, sliced like a dull razor into the smooth, unblemished flesh of her chest, mere inches below her heart. It burned, the poison burning like a wild fire as it seeped into her veins. She fought back, even in her pain…she didn't want to die, hadn't planned for it nor expected it…not this soon. She fought with everything she had, her spells, tooth and nail - but it was no use. The poison made her sluggish, slowing her mind, her movements…paralyzing her.
She felt the dagger slice into her again, and again, and again; hitting vital organs this time, and she knew, without a doubt that she was going to die. The dagger stopped its painful plunging after a short time, and she was forced to her knees, barely alive, blood pouring from too many fatal wounds.
Her head was forced up, a hand entangled in her long brunette hair forcing her in place. She felt so cold, an unnatural and painful cold that had her groaning and whimpering in pain.
"Open your eyesssss," a whisper of a voice commanded firmly inside her head. She cried then, knowing well who it was that commanded her, and realizing that all hope was lost, "Open you eyes!" the voice screamed inside her mind, "You are weak and in great pain. I can make you better. I can make you stronger and more powerful than you could possibly ever hope to be."
Cianan Dageth Silvercross, High Priestess of the Temple of Elune, shed tears for the first time that night. For the first time in her life. "No," she coughed, hot fresh blood poured out of her pale lips, "I will not!" she cried weakly.
She felt the dagger, the poisoned, achingly dull dagger, slide painfully slow into her back. It slid all the way to the hilt and stopped. "Obey me, and I will make your death quick." The whisper in her mind promised seductively, "You will enjoy your time at my side, most enjoy it. The power I can give…will make you feel like a goddess… Open your eyes…"
"Elune…" Cianan cried out softly, praying to her Goddess helplessly.
The voice laughed inside her mind, a horrible cackle. "You're god cannot save you. She never could, never will. She doesn't exist, and never did. I am real, I can give you the world, if you would just open your eyes and look into mine. Watch as I give you a life you could only dream of. Forsake her, forsake your soul…and I will give you eternal life."
"Please," Cianan begged, her tears slowing to a slow trickle. The pain increased tenfold as the dagger twisted excruciatingly slow inside her, and she screamed, calling for her god. She just wanted the pain to end, for her life to end.
"Come, love, and I can end the pain. I will make you stronger, powerful. You will be a god!" The voice roared inside her head, she could almost see the twisted, lying smile of the man who invaded her mind.
The dagger twisted once more and Cianan's will broke. "Elune!" the Priestess coughed out and drew in a rough, ragged breath, "Forgive me!"
Cianan opened her dull violet eyes and stared into the cold, lifeless eyes of the Lich King himself. She could do no more than sob as she felt the cold reach of undeath reach deep into her chest, and slowly squeeze the love, hope, and life out of her heart..until all she could feel was cold. Black death.