Gasping for air he sat bolt upright upon the cold slab where he lay. Dizzy and disoriented he searched frantically for something, anything, familiar to tell him where he was. All around him were undead abominations and a weird green slime that flowed like water down a stone lined channel. Slowly, as the disorientation gave way to reason, he remembered.
That's right…at the Wrathgate, I died. I died along-side countless others. The damned apothecaries betrayed us…
Rage swelled in his chest as he lifted his hand to find his weapon. He stopped short as his first glance of his new flesh crossed his eyes. Pale and the colour of cooled ash it was. From behind he heard a voice, sharp but familiar.
"You have finally awakened. Good, we had feared that the conversion had been unsuccessful. Do you remember who you are?"
"Kael'Dahn Dawnreaver." His voice was hollow and echoed strangely in the small chamber. "And you…are Lady Sylvanas Windrunner."
"Good, you do remember. It would be a shame for such a mind to be lost to the usual temporary amnesia that often accompanies your new…condition."
"So my request was heeded?"
"Yes. It took a lot of convincing to get Koltira to agree to assist us. Would you like to see his work?"
Kael'Dahn nodded; his mouth too dry to speak further.
Lady Windrunner handed him a small mirror and he shakily brought it before his sight. The cold emissive blue eyes of a Death Knight stared back at him from a sunken and sallow face gaunt with the absence of a soul. His originally dark red hair had turned a pale cobalt blue. He had joined the ranks of the Forsaken.
"Tell me; what is it that compelled you to choose this accursed unlife?"
Setting the mirror aside Kael'Dahn steadied his slightly quavering voice,
"I was a small boy when Arthas's scourge legions marched on Quel'Thalas. I had hidden myself in the smoldering ruins of a home hoping they would not find me. I watched as our home burned, as our people were slaughtered like cattleand then raised to join the swelling ranks of walking corpses. I watched as your soul was ripped from your still living body. I witnessed one of our most beloved nobles tortured and twisted to Frostmourne's vile purposes. I vowed that if ever I could join you in the fight against such a monster then I would do whatever it took."
Kael'Dahn rose from the slab, finding his feet much sturdier than he had hoped.
"Where is my father's axe?"
"I managed to pry it from your cold dead hands. It was shattered beyond repair, but we managed to salvage most of the shards."
It was the voice of Koltira Deathweaver. Kael'Dahn turned to find him holding the remains of the exquisitely crafted Solarite axe out to him. Taking it in one hand he found it, in total, much lighter than he remembered.
"Do we have any scrap Saronite?"
"There is a small stock from the wares we brought to the Undercity from Acherus. Speak to the Van Brunt brothers in the War Quarter. Let them know I sent you and you should have no problem accessing the stores."
A short walk from the Apothecarium brought the newly risen Death Knight to the forges of the Undercity where the brothers Van Brunt presided over training and supplying any who wished to learn the way of the forge and hammer.
"Excuse me; I'm looking for James and Samuel Van Brunt."
"Well, you've found us Death Knight. What do you want? We're quite busy at the moment."
"Koltira Deathweaver sent me. He said you had some Saronite scrap."
"In the back, not much there to be useful to anyone. Knock yourself out."
Over the next several days the forges smoked mightily and the ring of hammer and steel echoed through the underbelly of Lordaeron. With a great sigh of accomplishment Kael'Dahn lifted the newly forged twin runeblades that had been his father's axe. The weapon had felled a great many scourge, and now with two swift and lethal blades in his hands it would slay a great many more. He looked at the shadowy metal with grim satisfaction.
"I hope you are prepared. We have breached Icecrown Citadel and our forces make their way toward the Frozen Throne as we speak."
"I am ready, m'Lady. I only need to inscribe these blades with the appropriate runes and I shall be ready to lay waste to Arthas's legions once again."
"Temper your fury my champion. It is a terrible weapon that will wreak terrible havoc upon the Citadel. You will be the instrument of the Sin'dorei vengeance and the Forsaken charge to rid us forever of the Lich King who once held dominion over us."
The zeppelin ride to Northrend was interminable. Kael'Dahn couldn't stop himself from pacing the deck as the airship brought him ever closer to his ultimate goal, Icecrown Citadel. After several days the spires of Vengeance Landing came into view. Stepping off of the zeppelin he commandeered a bat to fly him to the Shadow Vault, the closest bastion of the Horde to the wretched palace of the Lich King. He gazed stoically at the glimmering runes on his blades as they shifted and glowed. Soon. Soon vengeance will be mine. Gird your fortress well Arthas…I am coming for you.