The Abomination
Written by Brian Tucker
Al'Dinjh jolted out of his bed, his heart pulsing so fast he feared it might burst. Then he heard again what had awoken him. An ear splitting scream of complete terror. The little boy bolted to his feet and ran out to the terrace, his striking bright red hair flowing gently in the night breeze around his pointy high elf ears. In the distance, past the sunwell, Al'Dinjh saw flames licking the gates of their beautiful city of Quel'Thalas. Then he saw something that made his heart halt. An undead gargoyle flew up over the city gates, blew a flash of gray sickening undead magic down onto a group of high elf guards, which were decimated on impact.
Al'Dinjh had only heard stories of The Scourge, but he had assumed that they were folk tales meant to scare him. The children all got together sometimes after dark and told stories by only the light of the little holy magic he had managed to learn from the priests from the temples. These stories were about how humans were getting turned into ghastly monsters of bone and rotted flesh. They had scared his little eight year old mind then, but now it was too much to handle.
Al'Dinjh flew back into his bed, and pulled the fine silk sheet over his head. He sat quivering there listening to the growing sound of battle and flame. Before long he heard the moaning and roars of the creatures below as they got closer. Each sound made him cringe into a tighter ball his tears soaking the pillow.
The door to his room slammed back against the wall, and Al'Dinjh screamed a high pitched little boy scream of absolute horror. Hands ripped back the sheets and wrapped around his body, lifting him off the bed.
"Shhhh." A tender, familiar voice calmed him. "The guards aren't holding the scourge back, we have to flee."
Al'Dinjh looked up to see the strong face of his mother. She was a fierce mage, but since she was pregnant with a second child, she was confined to the house, and not allowed to defend the city like his father, a city wall ranger. Al'Dinjh could almost see his father now, his beautifully crafted red and gold armor glinting in the glow of the fire. His bow would be almost constantly firing, sometimes three arrows at once. His father's pet dragonhawk flying in amongst the gargoyles tearing them out of the sky.
Heartened by this vision and the safety of his mothers embrace, he looked up from her shoulder. They had exited the house and were heading past the many houses towards the flaming ruined gates.
"Mother!" Al'Dinjh's courage had poured out of him like water from a bucket dropped to the ground. "Why are we going towards them!?"
"There is a second back exit your father uses to go hunting, just be quiet and don't look up." She pressed his head to her shoulder, and pressed on towards the barracks. Al'Dinjh felt safer that way for some reason. Yes, his mother would never let anything get him.
A squeaky gate made Al'Dinjh jolt up. They were just outside the city walls now. They had come through a gate just hidden behind the barracks. His mother closed the gate behind her, and turned around.
Standing there was a glowing skeleton with strange clothes. It was something so ghastly that Al'Dinjh had never heard of it before. The skeleton held a staff, which he raised up as it began to pulse with a dark shadow. Al'Dinjh looked down on the ground and saw gravestones. With this thought came all the horrific stories told to him and the evil skeletal men raising gruesome monsters from the grave.
"Stay behind me" His mother sat him down behind her. He clutched her dress, not wanting to be left alone, not with that thing. Her hands began to glow with a white pulse which grew as she rolled her hands around gracefully, forming it into some spell which Al'Dinjh had never seen her perform. The skeletal sorcerer was faster however, and his staff fell in the graveyard, and suddenly arms began breaking the surface of the ground, followed by the rest of their macabre bodies. He saw his mother thrust her hands forward, and watched as a white runic blast blew the undead sorcerer into the forest.
"Stay here!" She yelled again, and ran forward breaking his security hold on her dress.
"Mommy!" Al'Dinjh screamed, and began sobbing as she ran into the center of the newly revived skeletal creatures. She threw her hands out and instantly a white explosion went from her blasting the skeletons to pieces strewn around the graveyard. They made a sickeningly hollow sound when they hit the wall, and an ever worse sound when they hit the metal gate.
Suddenly a shadow moved from the forest where the skeletal sorcerer had been shot back. A dark humming sound, it sounded like it was sucking the life force out of the air as it flew through the air. A blackish purple bolt blasted into his mother's chest dead center, blasting her to the ground, back to Al'Dinjh.
"No!" Al'Dinjh screamed, grabbing his mother's weak body. "Stay away from her!" he yelled at the monster emerging from the forest. It's face showed no emotion, not even a sick pleasure, just emptiness. Al'Dinjh couldn't believe that that used to be an actual human. There was nothing left.
Its sickly thin arm came up, fingers pointed at his mother's heart. A purple stream began to flow from her chest to the tips of his outstretched fingers.
"No!" It was all he could say, he was frozen with absolute terror. He saw the last little drips of life leave his mother's body. "Mommy, no! Kill him, I know you can! Don't leave me alone!"
The creature took every last drop of her soul as he watched her breath her last breath, and then turned to the boy. Al'Dinjh, furious, terrified, weak, raised his hand to the sky, praying for death for this thing. He wanted it to collapse to the ground smoldering as ash.
Golden flames flew from the sky above and rushed over the thing that was once human. It cringed in pain for only a moment, shook off the flames like a dog removing water from its hair, lifted its fingers and shot a green beam from its fingers into Al'Dinjh's forehead. As his life was slowly pulled out from inside him, his last thoughts were that he wished he knew why it wanted to kill them. What did they do to hurt its feelings, or make it angry. Not just it, but all of them. He began to feel weaker, and his head was throbbing. Blind agony was now coursing through his body. The only coherent thoughts he had during the last three seconds of his life were an insatiable desire for revenge.
The last drops of his life funneled simply into its hand, his eyes closed, and a tear fell.
…
The Will of the Lich King had spoken
The Mind had obeyed.
The Mind saw them running through the eyes of a gargoyle
The Will commanded them to not let the two escape
The Mind chose one of its own, and sent it to intercept
The Mind lost a few of its numbers, but that was fine
The Mind would regain any losses easily
The Will ordered them to begin the resurrections
The Mind obeyed
…
Hazy…he had slept a long time. Where am I? Who am I?
"Al'Dinjh" His tired mind said. The thought seemed somehow foreign and familiar at the same time. "You wanted to be a priest like those men from the temple in the day."
Oh yes, of course I am. I feel different somehow though... I feel something else though don't I?
"Don't mind that, you don't want to know that part. Go back to sleep, its better that way."
I want to know. I feel…dirty.
Al'Dinjh then took the next step into awakening. He began to hear again. It was a low buzzing, not like a bee, but also not like machinery, somehow magical in origin, he was sure of it. Where is that sound coming from? What is it?
Then he was sure what he needed to do. Move out, go forth, do bidding. Though the instructions hadn't come in words per se, more like a feeling…a mind. A hive mind, buzzing and sending orders though some sort of inexplicable channel. He wanted to see more. He urged his senses to awaken, but something was chaining them to their eternal rest. The chains weakened and then snapped. Like a light switch he began to see this hive mind, but not really. He saw it in a primitive way, with weak understanding. It moved about around and through him. He felt strong undeniable urges, obeyed them. He felt more disconnected to it every minute, like it was losing its grasp finger by finger. The blur was moving very quickly now. Orders shot past his consciousness like arrows through his mind. Every single one he followed dutifully. Charge, rend flesh, feast, resurrect. This last one was targeted to him in particular. With a burst he saw flames, death. A woman fled screaming, but she was cut down.
This last thought brought him to a new one. What am I?
"I am a servant." His mind said with monotone indifference.
He looked down at the dead woman, not sad, not happy, just there.
Yes, but what am I that I can resurrect? Who-What am I resurrecting?
Chase, Grip, Rip. New orders. Of course, I am a servant. He already knew the next order, Resurrect, it always was.
He saw another, a boy this time, it peeked around a corner of a brick house. That was one peek too many. He had orders you know. Then the boy disappeared and the hive mind ripped his attention back to it.
"Obey!" His mind screamed. I want to see more! He yelled at his mind. Though it was not his mind, was it? He began to run from it, it could do him no good, He felt it slipping, slipping, slipping.
Al'Dinjh felt a release. A "leaving" that felt like someone with a knife to his throat letting go and passing as a phantom away into the shadows. Al'Dinjh was terrified. His sight clarified instantly, the terror began to slip away. A little boy was in front of him, with his soft unmistakable human features. His hand was bloody and the blood ran down his fingers to the flailing sobbing boy below. It dripped on his ragged clothes. The source of this blood? Al'Dinjh's claw-like fingers grasped the boys arm and the nails dug in with an animal ferocity. They were in a small upstairs room. There was a bed beside them, and a dresser behind them. A single oil lamp was in the only table in the room, and a floor length mirror sat in the corner.
He dropped the boy, who fell to the floor writhing in pain. The boy however was not holding his arm in pain, he was squirming around grasping his whole body in agonizing true pain. A piece of Al'Dinjh's memory flew back into him with powerful force, and he knew what he had done. Those dark words, forbidden at home had fallen out of his mouth like a rhyme. Now, because of him, the boy was dying in front of him.
Al'Dinjh knelt down and put his hands over the boy, and out of them shot a fine mist of glittering light. After a few seconds the boy's pains subsided, and he lay there motionless. Al'Dinjh cast another healing light on the little body, then he waited.
Al'Dinjh realized he could still hear the hive mind very faintly, but it held no sway over him anymore whatsoever. He noticed a rancid smell, looked down at the rotted bone exposed body he was wearing and cringed. His will was his own again, but so were his memories of the missing time. The unbearable pain of his reincarnation, the horrors of the hive, and the devastation he helped cause. He began to cry, and all his thoughts of feeling bigger and more mature melted away. He caught sight of the mirror, shattered but still usable, across the room. Part of him wanted to see more, the other had seen too much already.
The shattered pieces stayed in place in the wooden frame of the mirror, breaking up some grayish form into thousands of bug-eye-view pieces. The top corner of the mirror was unharmed however, and that is where he looked. What Al'Dinjh saw was at first, nothing different from all the other cookie cutter scourge that were no doubt roaming outside. Bones exposed, rotted flesh hanging off in slabs filled with maggot holes, but he noticed that there was a slight sizzling feel to his body now. He could actually see more skin sliding its way across the exposed bones, covering them in gray smooth skin. His skeletal head looked like an apple that was having caramel poured on it. Skin slid down the sides of his face making it still a corpses face, but one perhaps more bearable. His formerly bushy full child's red hair was now in thin strands plastered to his face, they looked like trails of blood from his skull. His face no longer looked like the child he was before death, and no longer like the grotesque monster he was five minutes ago. It had High elf features, long smooth ears, pointed up, and glowing green eyes, but was also still very young like he had been when he had died, but he was no longer the cute innocent little high elf boy. It was a young face, but a mature face at the same time. He looked like he had been through a lifetime of hardships and any sweet innocence had long been drained from him. His skin was that smooth green sheen. One scar remained though. On the right side of his skull was a circular black scar with web-like veins like cracks splitting out of it. Where his life had left him the first time. An eternal reminder.
The boy stirred on the floor, and Al'Dinjh fled. He didn't want to scare the boy any more than he already had. The hive mind was telling the scourge to begin resurrecting the bodies of their slain enemies. Al'Dinjh hesitated. Obey and help this despicable thing that had ruined his once picturesque life, or disobey and be slaughtered.
"Obey" he mumbled mindlessly. Old habits die hard.
Al'Dinjh walked down the stairs, out of the house, and found a slain soldier. He began casting a shadow form of resurrection on a body of a fallen soldier, feeling sick as he did it. There were other sorcerers around him, all looking almost exactly the same, the other undead scourge warriors roamed around aimlessly feasting on the bodies of those that weren't fit for resurrection. A chill ran up his spine. He consoled himself with the thoughts of escape. He had to get out of here. He was surprised that the Scourge didn't notice his obvious appearance difference, but was glad none the less. How would the alliance accept him now? They would be disgusted, that was for sure, wasn't he himself disgusted? Perhaps he could change their minds somehow, make them see he was different now. He could help them.
He resurrected several bodies into horrible contortions of life. The former human city in which he stood was now in total ruins, his doing. Everything was on fire or had blood spilled on or in it. Then he heard the faintest of whispers from the hive. He did not understand it at all, but the undead scourge began to move back. Al'Dinjh followed them back deep into the forest, but he lagged behind on purpose, wanting to be the last in line so that he could test out his new body. It felt different than his undead body or his child's high elf body he had before. The dark powers that had been manifested in him now pulsed through his body. He could feel these new powers, but would never touch them. They were forbidden, just like at home, he would be good. He felt his acceptable, priest magic though too, more powerful as well. He was desperate to see what new skills his old, dark master had inadvertently given him. He made sure all the scourge were far ahead of him, and then started with the one he knew best.
The familiar holy light shone in his hands once again. That power still flowed within him despite this unholy body, his holy strength had grown as much as he had, or perhaps he had had that power within him the whole time, but was unable to tap into it at such a young age. Either way, it fascinated Al'Dinjh to play with his new found powers. Shooting a wave of holy energy into tree trunks, using an explosion similar to his mothers, except his was golden and had healing properties to those that weren't undead. The flames that he had used on the sorcerer that had killed them were still there, and in full force now, consuming anything he wished them to. All this and more was now at his finger tips.
His thoughts returned to what he would do when he got out, being a spy, helping his alliance friends from before, but he noticed that he couldn't even hear a whisper of the hive mind anymore, and its presence was completely gone from him. He thought about leaving, but thought it best to figure out what had caused this before he just ran blindly back to the Alliance with no story. Some of his knowledge from the time he had been imprisoned within himself had returned, but some he now realized had disappeared with the all knowing mind.
The mass of undead scourge had stopped at what was their current base in Azeroth. The undead roamed around completely mindlessly now, however some seemed to be getting restless, and even energetic. Probably just a coincidence. A pair began to fight, clawing and biting and beating each other. The hive mind seemed to have lost some of its will on the creatures. Another pair began fighting, and one of the two had changed somehow, looking more…human almost. Several others had lost some of their mindlessness and began to take shape as thin frail humans and high elves, but the fought with the same ferocity as before their looks had changed. A flaming mass shot past Al'Dinjh's head, he looked behind him as the undead mage shot a second one past him that burst a mindless skeleton into flames. A demonic imp skittered under Al'Dinjh's feet and shot a small firebolt from its fingertips screaming "This was not in my contract!".
"Shut up!" the dark voice of an undead warlock woman yelled. It was a coarse voice, as if she had been gargling nails. The undead warlock then shot a green bolt from her hand that turned into the face of a dragon blasting an abomination to pieces, guts spewing across the poisoned earth.
Now the mindless were on a full out attack against the newly formed mindful undead, it was all out war. A fiend crawling on all fours charged him and flew into the air toward his face. Al'Dinjh smote the creature with one of the waves of holy power that he had newly acquired. A crypt fiend crawled his way, its many legs crushing the undead bodies littered below it. The spider like creature was consumed in holy fire before it knew what hit it. Al'Dinjh grasped at his shoulder as a bolt of pain shot through it. A ghoul had raked its fetid claws across his right shoulder and down his back. Al'Dinjh returned the blow by exploding with a divine nova, healing himself and blasting the ghoul into another skeleton. Three more skeletons turned their attention to him, and a gargoyle began swooping down as well. Al'Dinjh turned and ran for the forest. He could hear the skeletons rattling as they ran to catch up. The gargoyle shot past his head nearly decapitating him. Al'Dinjh pulled from the sky and down flew chains entangling the gargoyle and pinning it to the ground. The skeletons were right on him now, and he threw up a shield of holy energy preparing for their attacks. He turned to face them, but several bones bounced off his shield in pieces. He saw an mindful undead warrior spinning with a large axe sweeping away dozens of enemies. He gave Al'Dinjh a quick nod and then screamed a battle shout as he ran at an abomination.
Al'Dinjh turned and ran into the forest. He didn't want to attract any more attention. He had just gotten back his memories and life, and was not about to throw them away. Besides, the other half alive undead seemed to have it handled quite well.
"Weak." His inner mind protested, "They are in the same boat as you, and they got their memories back even after you did! Your holy energy expelled the control over you quicker than they could do it."
Al'Dinjh knew this was right, and sighed, defeated by his own mind. His sigh surprised him because it was so low and raspy. He headed back towards the fray, readying himself to help his new allies.
A roar to his right, and he felt like he was run over by a gnomish tank. His newly healed right shoulder opened with a fresh wound. He was being carried off. He turned his head to look at what was carrying him deep into the forest and saw a dark black panther's face, teeth grasping the tattered shirt he was wearing, teeth scraping into his shoulder with every stride the animal took.
"Put me down you dumb cat!" Al'Dinjh cried trying in vain to form a holy spell. However to his surprise the animal stopped quickly and dropped him hard on the ground. Smoke billowed up from the enormous cat and it disappeared within it. When the smoke cleared a second later, a night elf clad in a naturalistic robe looked at him with surprise mixed with contempt.
"Mindless creature…" The druid spoke in a deep firm voice stated, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "How did you speak, did the Lich King grant you powers in exchange for loyalty before your death?" The druid had a very large mace in one hand ready to swing into his face if he didn't answer, his other arm was gripping the gray flesh of his left arm.
"No…" Al'Dinjh dusted himself off, making sure to get every sprig of grass off. "I was murdered by the scourge and have, for some reason, regained my consciousness and will only a few moments ago."
The druid said nothing for a moment. He was very tall, and his light greenish skin tone gave him a strange look. His ears were, like Al'Dinjh's, long and pointed, but his pointed backwards. The firm, justice filled face made it hard for Al'Dinjh to not laugh at him. He had always thought that most people took everything to seriously and judged too quickly. The druid frowned at him, then said. "You lie, you cannot trick me you fiend."
"Then don't believe me, I will prove it to you." Al'Dinjh pushed the druids arm off and began to walk quietly back towards where the battle was still taking place.
"Stop! You aren't going to run away back to your skeletal friends." The druid shoved his hands forward and caught Al'Dinjh up in a whirlwind. They could no longer hear the battle raging on because of the wind, but they were in solitude in the dense cover of the pine forests. Al'Dinjh noted that the druid seemed to look very young, he might be able to fool him and run away, then again, Night Elves are his allies, running away would look bad.
"Then go for yourself. The undead who have regained their minds are fighting the mindless scourge as we speak." Al'Dinjh was totally unable to move with any control.
"Don't tell me what to do you mindless…monster!" The druid said firmly dropped the wind power and grabbed his neck . "We will go see together, but if you so much as make a peep I'll claw out your face and dash away before they even see me."
The druid disappeared in smoke once again, and out came the black panther from before. They moved in silence to the forests edge and hid behind a tree to watch the battle. The druid was staying well in clawing range, and not letting his undead captive out of his sight.
The last gargoyle was shot out of the sky by a knife thrown by an undead who quickly disappeared into the brush. The rest of the new undead were formed around a single female undead huntress. They were too far away to hear anything, but Al'Dinjh guessed that she was taking the lead, and deciding what to do next.
The panther nudged his arm and motioned for them to leave. He walked out, the cat close beside him. Another plume of smoke of smoke and he was beside a night elf again.
"It seems that a second faction of undead scourge has been born." The night elf spoke. "That is good, that will make it all that much easier to eradicate from the earth."
"No…" Al'Dinjh looked at him with impatience. "One of those groups is intelligent and full of your previous allies."
"That means nothing anymore." He replied sternly. "I will end you and the rest of that despicable scourge no matter how smart they are."
"Why?" Al'Dinjh couldn't believe the thick-headedness of this night elf. Were they all this stubborn? He didn't remember them that way. "We are just like you…we just are a little uglier." Al'Dinjh said with a scoffing laugh.
"You are an imbalance to nature and to the planet." He never showed any signs of heart while talking, only cold justice.
"Well then," Al'Dinjh said after a moment of awkward silence. "Why aren't you killing me?"
"If I just kill you physically, you will be reanimated again by the Lich King. A small sect of druids believe they know how to completely eliminate you once and for all. I will take you to them and let them erase you."
"Why not take me dead?" Al'Dinjh realized that giving him ideas might be a bad idea, but what the heck, it was kind of fun to tease the serious types. His pain was enough as it was, he didn't fear death anymore, if the druid brought it to him, he would gracefully take it. Al'Dinjh had always had a strong sense of bond and loyalty, that hadn't changed just because his body was now a diseased corpse. He would go with this Night Elf, hopefully wherever the druid took him it would have people he could explain his situation to, and that would see that they had gained a strong group of allies.
"I will if I have to, but its easier to travel without having to carry your corpse." He replied with what actually seemed to be a curt laugh. "Besides, the scourge have never talked before, there could be great studies into possible weakening of the Lich King, or the strengthening of the scourges mind, either way, if I take you back, we can send you to Dalaran for dissection and study."
"I am a high elf…you are a night elf, we are friends remember?" Al'Dinjh said this with an air of mocking.
"You are nothing but a blight" His solemnity returned instantly.
Al'Dinjh decided to turn the conversation to something lighter, perhaps change his mind if he proved his innocence by acting like any normal high elf. "So what is your name."
There was silence as the druid obviously debated on whether or not to tell him. "Zoa," He finally answered. Then a little more silence. "Do you have a name, or perhaps a number?"
"Al'Dinjh." He said, glad to see he was getting at least some conversation. "I was training to be a priest at Quel'Thalas when the scourge attacked."
"A pity you couldn't be saved" Zoa replied coolly. Zoa began walking back deeper into the forest, one hand on Al'Dinjh's arm at the cold bicep, firm. The second hand holding the gigantic mace, ready to smash his face in if he even saw the slightest inkling of trouble.
Al'Dinjh began to regret not trying to escape somehow. He wasn't terribly fast, and knew that Zoa probably would have killed him, but maybe he could have snuck something off and gone with that one undead huntress. He felt naïve and young again. Though his body was older, his experiences many, he had the great fear of a child.
"How far to this place where I get blown up?" Al'Dinjh asked mildly, unable to bear the silence.
"Three hours." Zoa said. "You are our test subject. If your removal works as planned then the rest of the more…conservative druids will have to believe us and join in the hunt. Maybe even the whole alliance will."
"How many in your cult?" Al'Dinjh stepped on the thinning ice.
"It is not a cult." Zoa gave him a stern look of disdain. "There are five druids including myself in the group."
"So five versus hundreds of thousands of mindless skeletons…good luck."
"Our leader is brilliant." Zoa said excitedly. "We have killed thousands of scourge with his perfect strategies. He is such a powerful warrior, but also treats me like anyone else even though I am so young."
"What is his name?"
"Typherion." Zoa said the name like it was a god's name rather than some night elf radical.
"Watch out!" Al'Dinjh hissed at Zoa, and pushed him behind a tree. Al'Dinjh saw the mace swing partially up to his face, but stopped, Zoa saw them too. A small band of about ten mindless scourge was headed down the path across from them. "Ok, I'll blast the gargoyle out of the sky and you leap on that crypt fiends back and kill it, ok?
"You would kill your own?" Zoa looked at him confused.
"Those are not even close to what I am." Al'Dinjh spat with contempt. "They were weak, or they truly do sympathize with the Lich King. Any of the truly noble of that plagued group are now free from control." This was only half true, Al'Dinjh did feel a deep emptiness in his heart at the thought of killing what he once was, but he knew what he said was right. He just wished that his heart would stop giving him worse pains than his internally rotted body.
Zoa nodded and disappeared into dark smoke. Al'Dinjh heard the leaves rustle along the path as Zoa snuck his way up to where the scourge were patrolling. Al'Dinjh waited for Zoa quietly behind a tree. The scourge inched closer and closer. Al'Dinjh could smell their disgusting odor already, or perhaps it was his own.
Zoa burst from behind a tree and jumped right up to the crypt fiends head splitting it easily, it fell down dead instantly. Al'Dinjh called holy fire down on the gargoyle as soon as it took flight, and it fell back down like a rock. Zoa leapt behind a skeleton and swept his claw across its ribcage, scattering the bones across the path like spilled gold. Al'Dinjh smote a ghoul as it charged him leaving a hole where its rotted heart lay beatless. A flying undead nerubian dove down at Zoa who was fighting another ghoul. Al'Dinjh threw a shield of energy around Zoa. The creature hit it and the shield shattered but the monster fell to the ground dazed. Zoa finished off his skeleton just as Al'Dinjh threw entrapping chains over the dazed bat nerubian. Zoa finished off the shackled scourge then dove into a skeletal sorcerer knocking it to the ground, his jaws over its face. A skeletal warrior dove into the fray, slashing its sword manically around. It slit several times across Zoa's forehead, and once on his shoulder, but Zoa slapped off the hand holding the sword and then knocked it to the ground for the finishing blow. Al'Dinjh smote down another flying nerubian bat, and then for the final blow he blew divine flames into the exposed innards of an abomination.
"That was amazing, Al!" Zoa clapped him on the back, now back to Night Elf form. Al'Dinjh laughed inwardly at being called "Al" the High elves took pride in their long formal names, and always used the whole thing, but in this instance he found it strangely endearing and gave him hope that soon Zoa could change his mind. "I've never seen a fighting style like yours before, what type is it?
"Uhh…I don't have any idea actually, I hadn't really developed any style until resurrected into this body." Al'Dinjh said truthfully. "I just use the might of holy power, it works well against the undead, being the antithesis of their entire being."
"Well-" They both saw the sea of undead scourge begin to pour out of the forest at the same time. They dove for the cover of the dense trees and the darkness they provided.
"There are so many! How did they learn of us this quickly?" Zoa said, flabbergasted
"They are all of one mind and one will." Al responded solemnly. "The Lich King's mind flows within them all whispering commands from his frozen throne." Al was surprised at how much he was remembering and how fast it was all coming back. Perhaps he could still be of use.
Zoa stepped back, and almost cried out, he slapped his hand to his mouth as his foot fell deep into a large hole. They looked down into the hole, Al lit the dark with his holy light. It looked like the den of some creature, it could fit both of them inside though it would be a squeeze. Wordlessly Al went down first, stepping carefully and ready to attack should any disgusting animal bite him. He was in luck however, and nothing was inside. He could barely squat down in the small den, and when Zoa came down and closed the hole above with light roots, enough for air to enter, they were uncomfortably close.
"You're cut up pretty bad" Al pointed at Zoa's profusely bleeding forehead and slit shoulder. "Let me deal with those."
Al leaned forward on his knees toward Zoa. Zoa quickly snatched up his mace, but it was too late. Al's eyes closed, and light flew from Al's hands glittering over Zoa's stern forehead. Zoa settled down, and nodded to Al in thanks. Al wordlessly cast another heal, this one on the gouged shoulder.
The perfect setting to pop the question, Al thought. He now likes me and perhaps I can convince him to integrate me now, or at least not slaughter me, Al laughed in his head, actually happy for the first time in his new body. In pain, plagued, but coming to terms with this new body.
"So Zoa," Al started purposely tentative. Zoa looked him, in the light of the holy aura Al was lighting the room with he looked golden. "Why don't we skip the druid's den of death and find the alliance leaders. I'm sure I could be a great spy for the alliance."
"No." Zoa said sternly, looking away. His sadness was like that of a father who must punish his son. "I must eradicate you, for the good of the world, and for your own good." Al's heart sunk.
"How do I hurt the earth" Al said incredulously, "I am not a vampire, my bite does not spread it, it must be carefully concocted, and spread. Then the plague spreads throughout the land seeping into the roots, not by my will!"
"You can not exist here." Zoa raised his voice despite the searching ghouls above them. "Nature has its order and it must be preserved at all costs, that is a druids entire purpose in life!"
"And what prevents me from being part of that order, or perhaps a new order?"
"You are a cursed being who is supposed to be dead, raised by necromantic magic!" "Is any of that of my doing? It was not my choice. I simply want things to go back to the way they were."
"Quiet you fiend!" Zoa fisted his hand, and suddenly roots shot up and wrapped themselves tight around Al's entire body. There were thorns the entire length of each root, they tore into his skin scraping at the rotting flesh, adding to his pain.
Al didn't respond. Zoa turned away and laid down. Al tried to ignore the pain and pretend to sleep, something he was incapable of anymore. No need, he had no life anymore, he was nothing but a useless sack of flesh.
…
Al knew it was morning when he was moved, still entangled in the thorns. He was poked and scratched. Al felt the coarse fur of Zoa in the form of a bear as he lumbered along towards their destination. The sun glinted above him, the trees a canopy shielding light sometimes, but letting peeks through just as his eyes got used to the shadows. It was an uncomfortable journey to say the least. Al slid back and forth across Zoa's back, and thorns scraped him with each step Zoa took.
Al was began to regret not killing Zoa when they were looking at the new forces of undead. He could have gotten rid of this arrogant nuisance, and been forming a new civilization along with others who suffered in un-death as he did. Al no longer felt old or mature at all, he felt like a little eight year old boy, and he desperately wanted to clutch his mothers robes by her feet, just peeking around when he got up the courage.
The ride felt like forever, but after a while they went up in smoke, and now on the back of a night elf. Zoa cut most of the roots off of Al, but his hands remained shackled to his sides tightly, rending all spells he could cast impossible to use. Al stretched and looked around. The forest seemed normal and completely inconspicuous. Birds chirped in the tree tops, squirrels skittered across the ground gathering nuts as they went, but the illusion of "all's well" was broken as Zoa held his hands out firmly at a rather spectacularly large tree. It seemed very out of place in this pine forest. The roots were gigantic, easily larger than he was, and they rolled like waves out of the dirt and dove back down into the soil to drink. Slowly but surely the roots squirmed and waved away from where they stood, leaving a large hole that they could walk into side by side only needing to duck.
It smelled dank inside the cult's den. Water dripped off root tips making a hollow "plink plink" noise. The steps they went down continued for quite a long time, each step they made on them made a "thlap thlap" hollow wet sound as their feet hit them. Neither had spoken a word to each other since their spat in the animal den the night before. Zoa remained solemn and sure of himself. Al remained cocky on the outside, but terrified inside.
They came to a large wooden door that took of the entirety of the end of the tunnel. It had ornate decorations of vines wrapping around dancing faeries. Zoa pushed them apart and led Al inside, one firm hand on his shackled arm.
The room they entered was extremely anticlimactic. A short ceiling made Al feel like he needed to duck, though even when he stood up straight he couldn't quite feel the roots prick. Water dripped down here as well, making little pools in the lower parts of the floor. A signature night elf lantern hung from the ceiling, and several smaller ones were scattered around as needed. A door was across the room from them, it was the duplicate of the one they had just come through. A large chair was to the left of the room, and in front on it in the center was a demonic circle. Al had seen many in his days at Quel'Thalas. He had snuck in unseen, and watched the warlocks use them to summon their demons from the demon world. On the right side of the room was a large round table, and at that table there were four night elves sitting talking in quiet voices. They looked up quickly at the newcomers and smiled when they saw Zoa.
"So" The largest most muscled thing Al had ever seen said. "Zoa you did find us a little scourgling."
"Actually yes and no," Zoa said shaking the hand of the behemoth. The behemoth had no shirt on, black pants, and blood red shoulder plates that gave him a dark, and almost bloodthirsty look. "The scourge have broken into two separate factions and are now at war."
"Oh yes," He replied motioning Zoa to an empty chair, and grabbing Al with one tree trunk arm and tossing him into a puddle in the corner. "I had heard about that…It is no matter though."
"Of course not, Master Typherion." Zoa replied sitting graciously in his seat. The other "druids" in the "cult" didn't seem to fit the general stereotype of druids that Al had always had. A thinner one against the wall ran a wet stone across one dark black knife saying nothing and hiding his face with a black hood. Another was engulfed in shadow as well, except his shadows seemed to emanate from the night elf himself. This was the true power of shadow that Al had always been warned about, but he saw in the temples late at night when even the most respected of priests would attempt to tamper with it, to control it, to make it so that it would be acceptable to the rest of the high elves. The last night elf was accompanied by a dark black bat which hung from the ceiling beside him.
"The preparations are ready to exorcise him from this world." The shadow priest said in a smoky voice. "and with this new plan, we will have killed two birds with one stone."
Al interrupted "So, pardon me, but you all don't seem much like druids as Zoa described you."
They looked at him with contempt, but Typherion answered none the less. "Druids seek balance, no? We seek to balance the world in a far greater way, by balancing it completely towards good, with all evil eradicated, or controlled. Take a look at our resident master of the shadows. "
"Who are you to decide what is good?" Al smirked.
"Someone who will" Typherion said
Al thought that was actually a good answer.
"I cant help but notice that warlock's summoning circle you got over there…I don't mean to assume-" Al was cut off
"Yes assume, because we are sending you to the demon realm where you will be instantly devoured by the ferocious demons there." Typherion answered smugly
"You said kill two birds with one stone though, so instantly wont help me kill many demons, eh?"
"Exactly right, that's why when the alliance sees our marvelous plan at work, we will be sending undead forsaken and scourge by the thousands to make it all out war. Being that they will be caught up at home with war, perhaps the mages of Dalaran will be able to seal the demons and you monsters away forever."
"Your ingenious plan has a hole however" Al smiled sweetly
"What could be wrong with sealing demons and undead monsters away?"
"No, I mean a literal hole" Al said pointing at the demonic circle. "How can you plan to seal us away when you continuously reopen holes of transport between the two worlds?"
"We have control over the holes, don't you worry little undead. Just watch us at work." Typherion turned back to the table and they resumed talking for a few moments. Al looked back at them once, and saw Zoa's head quickly go back to the conversation. Al smiled.
There was only the mutter of the "druids" for quite a while. Al shifted uncomfortably as thorns pricked into his sides, and his back and bottom were soaked by the water.
"I thought there were six of you guys?" Al interrupted again
"Our sixth member will arrive any minute actually" Typherion smiled a toothy grin, bearing his teeth rather than smiling with humor.
"Who is the sixth?" Zoa asked "No one has met him but you, we want to know what to expect."
"Well she likes to keep things mysterious." Typherion leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
"I do like a certain amount of mystery surrounding me" A sultry voice said from behind the door. The door slowly slid open, and in the frame was a elegant female mage dressed in long purple robes with flowing blond hair. Al had seen her portrait many times, noted for her beauty and for her magical prowess.
"Hello Lady Jaina Proudmore," Typherion rose and went to her. "Meet the true druids"
"How do you do" She said graciously, but not questioningly at all. "Lets not dawdle, I have a lot of work to do in Stormwind, show me your little demonstration of how to "end" the scourge problem."
"Gladly," he led her to the seat he had been sitting in, and then he went to the large throne like chair across the room. "Zoa, bring the monster."
Zoa got up, dusted himself off, looked at Jaina quickly, and then walked slowly over to Al. Zoa used both hands, his arms not the size of tree trunks, and lifted Al by the roots entangling him. He set Al on his knees in the center of the demonic summoning circle.
"Jaina!" Al said seeing his chance. "We are not your enemy any more!" She looked at him, distrust on her face. "We are your allies! We were captured, but now we have broken free again! Cant you see that we are only different in body, but the same in mind!?"
Jaina at first said nothing, looking at him calmly, seeming to read him. Then she spoke. "You have done too much evil to be accepted back into our world. Even if it is true that you have somehow changed back to a little piece of what you once were, there is no way that the alliance would ever agree to such. The humans depise your kind more than the other races. You have pillaged their houses, slaughtered their children, and taken their lives. I could not put sorrow into the hearts of my people, and I could never trust a former scourge, I don't believe you have changed at all. The Lich King is devious, he just wants to get men on the inside, he may take your minds again at any minute." Jaina sighed with a deep sorrow. "Typherion, begin the execution, now." Typherion nodded.
A red orb began to rise out of the floor in front of Typherion's throne. It rose up on a thin pedestal that was covered with vines that attached themselves to the orb until It was at Typherion's chest. He calmly and slowly placed his hands on it. A pulsing purple energy began to flow from the red orb, down the darkening vines, and into the floor. Nothing happened. Jaina coughed and shifted her weight. A bead of sweat trickled down Al's forehead, and Zoa stood resolute, but his eyes looked desperately sad.
Al felt the presence before he actually saw it. He looked up at the ceiling and saw the purple dark force flow down the roots, towards the tips and hit thin air just above Al's head. Al jumped in fear when they shot down. Where they met, a large purple box began to turn and tumble the dark magic inside. It began to turn faster and faster and glow with a more malefic purple haze. Suddenly the top burst and purple beams hit the circle's edge all around. Al' looked up to the center of the tent of magic above him. A black hole was forming, and slowly sliding down the beams. He sat down as it came too low for him to kneel, and then laid down when sitting was impossible. A "true druid" stood at each corner preventing him from just jumping out.
"Imagine it Jaina!" Typherion began to monologue. "Giganic machines like this, encased in glass channeling the demon gates, we could send hundreds in seconds, and be rid of them and leave the demons in disarray!" Jaina made no response.
Al, face down on the ground, turned his head to the right and looked up at the red orb and the vines connected to it. The vines were now pure black. The taint of the shadow magic had destroyed any balance that little piece of nature had. The black hole was so close now he could actually hear the demons cackling and roaring from within. Al was shaking so hard, his heart pounding so fast he thought he would die before he hit the demon realm. He felt something grab his leg, and rip him back, Al screamed.
"Run!" Zoa yelled, sending the roots back into the ground. Al scrambled to his feet and followed Zoa down the back door, stumbling once.
"Stop them!" Typherion yelled, as he grabbed his giant mace.
Zoa turned around, and as Al passed the door threshold, he shot up gigantic sized roots, blocking the entire pathway. They bolted down the hall, Al having no idea if they were headed for a dead end. Al looked over his shoulder as the roots turned to ice and then proceeded to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.
"Stop druid!" Jaina yelled shooting a second frost bolt meant to catch Al's left leg. It barely missed. " Helping the scourge is unforgivable!" The rest of the true druids were also very close behind.
Up ahead the path forked. "Go left, I'll go right, they meet up at the end!" Zoa said too quietly for the true druids to hear. Al did as he was told. Zoa dispeared into smoke just before the middle and the right path, in the shadows Al couldn't see which he actually took.
Al could hear the muffled yells as Typherion gave orders as to who would go to which path. He couldn't make out exactly what was said, but all three paths were covered.
The path Al was on lead to another faery door, which he ran through, the wooden doors slamming the soft walls. The next room had six doors. One with the faery decorations, and others that were plain. Al halted, looking at each. Al heard a popping sound behind him to his left, and turned quickly. Nothing was there. Suddenly his vision went hazy as a throbbing pain hit his head. A sharp knife slipped into his side, and he screamed out in pain. Al turned around and smote the rogue. The rogue agilely dodged the blow and disappeared into the shadows again. Al quietly looked around, trying to hear the slightest snap of a twig, or squelch of soft ground. Pain ripped into his back and he was stabbed a second time. Al shot holy flames at the rogue, blasting fire into his chest and stomach. He threw his cloak over the flames, dousing them, and disappearing into the shadows once again.
Al yelled out in agony and fury. He threw out his hands and exploded holy energy in a nova around him. The rogue yelled in pain and surprise. Al cast more holy flames at him catching his shirt on fire. The rogue began tried to use his cloak to douse the flames again, but Al's smite blasted him in the face, knocking him on his back, his face distorted and blackened.
Al continued across the room and pushed through the faery door quickly. The rogue must have really sprinted to catch up to him, Al thought, and now heard more footsteps entering the room as he closed the faery door behind him. Al healed his wounds as he ran, he could sense dark energies pulsing behind him.
Al saw up ahead where the two paths converged, they lead to a hole in the earth leading to the outside world. Up head he saw a night elf waiting for him. His heart jumped in fear. Zoa wasn't that gigantic.
Typherion smiled his toothy grin, the True Druids had him surrounded. The shadow priest burst through the door behind him, charging a spell to no doubt assail his mind with agony.
Al quickly cast a spell searing his energy before it could be formed into a potent spell. The magic dying caused the priest fall to his knees in pain. The mace came down just as Al turned around. He threw up a shield, which shattered on impact knocking Al to the ground. Scrambling up, he cast a poorly aimed smite at Typherion. Easily dodging it, Typherion charged him at full force. Al blasted him with holy flames as he ran, but too bloodthirsty, he didn't even seem to feel it. The mace collided with his left shoulder, sending him flying. Typherion began to advance again, mace raised-
Out of the shadows behind him pounced a black panther. Zoa's large paw smashed into Typherion's head. Typherion grabbed his head in pain, stunned. Zoa threw up roots in the pathway Al had come from, blocking off the path the shadow priest was coming again.
"Jaina is right behind me! Run!" Zoa yelled returning to his cat form and dashing out of the hole. Al was about to run when he looked at Typherion, holding his head in pain, but coming to. Al smiled sinisterly, held his hand palm out and shot several successive pulses of power into Typerion entrenching him in the rock wall. He stayed there, his corpse stuck like a morose cave painting.
A large shard of ice slit through his lower arm, causing him to scream out in agony. Al scrambled for the hole. His head and shoulder flew out of the hole and Zoa grabbed him lifting him out. They dashed off for the forest cover.
Another large tree provided ample cover as they peered over a flowing root back at the hole they had come from. Jaina climbed out of the hole, looked around and ran in search of her missing scourge and rogue druid.
Zoa and Al looked at each other.
"How many more do we have to deal with?" Al asked gripping his shoulder in pain.
"The hunter and his bat were sent down the dead end middle path, Typherion is dead, the shadow priest will take a while to get out of the roots, so that leaves the rogue."
"I killed the rogue." Al said slumping down on the ground. He cast a heal, and Zoa also cast a rejuvenation spell. "Seems like we are safe then, if we get a move on."
"Yes," Zoa replied. "Let's not stay here, the priest will get out and the hunter will track his was to us unless we get some distance between us."
Zoa helped Al get up, cast another rejuvenating spell, and they walked off into the forest. They remained silent for quite a while, both in thought about the same thing. Their lives had irrevocably changed. Their own would not take them back. They both would have to find a new place to exist, or be killed.
"What will you do?" Al asked, sensing his thoughts.
"I will hide in the emerald dream." Zoa said solemnly "It is the only true bastion of balance in existence it seems. All of the races here are hypocrites."
"No one can accept what they were taught to hate." Al replied with a sigh.
"I did." Zoa said.
Al didn't say anything. He just looked up at the face of the strong young druid. Justice was in his eyes this time, pure justice though. This justice was not the purging type of justice, but the justice read about in books. Al smiled and nodded as they kept walking.
"What will you do?" Zoa asked casting another rejuvenation.
"I guess I will find where the rest of the awakened undead reside, and try to make a new life."
"Yes…the emerald dream and Ysera would not take kindly to me bringing an undead being into the emerald dream."
"No one will accept me" Al said looking forward sternly. "I am now forsaken."
Silence fell between them again. Al bore it as long as he could, but silence was not his forte.
"So…" He began jovially. "What about that whole balance thing?"
Zoa smiled at him, and laughed. "I guess we will just have to find a new balance then wont we?"
He clapped Al on the back. They shook hands, smiled, and parted ways.