I was barely 17 when death knights invaded my town in droves. So many undead like the denizens of hell rode from over the rise and down the hill path that led to the bridge and our cluttered street. I watched from the window, the second story vantage giving me the full brunt of the horror approaching.
I had grown up in Stormwind, but the constant noise of the busy throng of people had been too much for me. I wanted something calmer, I had told my parents and after much negotiating and begging on my part, they had conceded to let me travel to Redridge Mountains where I had known kin. Lakeshire was only supposed to be a stopping point on my way to my uncle's farm to the south. But I had fallen into step here, taking a room in the inn and a job cleaning. It wasn't exciting work, but it kept me housed and independent, and that was all it took for me to pen a letter to my uncle, informing him of my change of plans. I had finally found a home of my own.
And now it was being taken away from me.
I heard frantic footfalls on the stairs and then the boards behind me and I spun around to see Cardra bracing herself on the doorframe after her rush up the stairs. Her black hair was falling loose from the pins that held it, an echo of the fear, wild in her dark eyes.
"Death Knights!" she heaved, pointing out the obvious in that way chaos dictates.
Trying to push down the freezing grip of fear that had wrapped to my heart at the sight of the first rider, I hurried to Cardra, grabbing on to her arm as she held on to me and we made our way to the top of the stairs. The room below was nothing but noise. The bodies fervently moving from door to windows to hide beneath tables were like the shouts that accompanied them - sharp and harried and shrill to the senses.
"What do we do?" I asked Cardra, the two of us still frozen at the top of the stairs.
she shook her head, almost imperceptably and I decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed her arm and dragged her with me as I ran to the small attack door neatly hidden in the ceiling. I jumped, reaching for the latch, constantly checking over my shoulder for any signs of immediate danger. We were up the rope ladder and the trap door pulled into place when we heard the first shrieks from downstairs.
I ushered Cardra into an empty trunk at the back of the attic, where the eaves slanted towards the floor. It was tucked behind a stack of old chairs and I threw a tarp over it just for good measure. I felt protective of Cardra. Sure she was all of 23 but her sheltered life in Lakeshire didn't allow for her to handle the threat of danger well. And she had been like an older sister to me the past year I had spent at the inn, since I arrived, a wide eyed 16 year old.
I looked around frantically, already knowing it was too late. Our movements in the attic would have certainly been heard downstairs, even amidst the shouts and cries. All I was waiting for was for the trap door to be found, and that wouldnt take long at all. I could already hear a scratching at the wooden boards and knew I had precious seconds to spare. I lunged for a large wardrobe against the wall and closed the doors tight behind me, already well aware that I would be found. My only hope now was that Cardra's hiding spot would be overlooked.
They thundered into the small cramped space like an army though there were only three of them. I could hear the sound of them reverberating through the wood and the smell of rotted flesh and rotted soul seeped through the cracks in the wardrobe as it pervaded the entire attic.
My eyes were as wide as they would stretch. I was afraid that if I closed them for even an instance I would somehow jinx my safety. If only my eyes stayed open I would be safe. That of course couldnt be farther from the truth. I wouldnt be safe no matter what I did. I could practically feel it sinking into my gut as one of the death knights touched the wardrobe's handle and felt my brow furrow in fear and anguish as the door swung open to the leering faces beyond.
I didn't make a sound when they found me, mostly too afraid to speak, but also fearing that any noise from me would lead Cardra to leap from the trunk at a stubborn attempted rescue. I was hauled down to the first floor and out to the street in front of the inn like a sack of flour, tossed around over one of the death knight's shoulder. Then I was thrown unceremoniously to the ground, to sit amongst the other captured dwellers of Lakeshire. We huddled together if not holding eachother outright, much to the amusement of the death knights.
One stood apart from the rest, hand resting jauntily on the hilt of his sword, dull black hair tied back in a tight queue at his neck. He was walking down the sea of people, pointing and pointing and pointing, sorting them into different groups.
"For the farms," he said jabbing a finger at one young man.
"For the army," as he stared at another.
"Slave," which seemed to be a popular one, over and over again.
I noticed with horror that the death knights seemed to have free choice over the slaves for their own enjoyment in addition to whatever their usual tasks would be. One particularly loathsome beast of a man reached down and grabbed a handful of firey red hair, pulling a young girl's face close to his, as she tried to wriggle free from his grip. I turned away, unable to watch more and kept my eyes glued firmly to the ground in front of me.
Until the word "slave" rang in my own ear, and i was hoisted from the ground by the back of my collar. A grubby looking man, who may have once been attractive - though i would hardly believe it - grinned down at me as his hand held me dangling above the ground. I felt as though I would be sick and it must have shown on my face because he laughed at me then, shifting to grasp me round the waist and throw me atop his armored shoulder.
I somehow managed to sleep most of the journey to Northrend, woken now and then by the jostle of an uneven road as I lay prostrate across a large horses neck in front of the saddle. The mainland was the last thing I saw before slipping into sleep again, not to wake until we reached the gates of our new home. I thought that last word bitterly, knowing both my homes were now gone to me.
Gahrfas, the death knight whom had 'claimed' me, led me by a lead around my wrists through the halls of a cold stone castle. The chill seeped through, making me shiver and realize how little my thin linen summer dress was doing for me now. There were twelve of us, mostly men but three women apart from me, and death knights led us, lined on either side of our procession. The black haired death knight from Lakeshire walked directly in front of me, demanding an air of respect from his fellows in his gait.
I flinched at the sound of a whip. One of the death knights was entertaining himself at the expense of the twelve slaves being led down the corridor. Seeing my reflexive movement he turned on me. A giddy laugh escaped his lips and then I felt the sting of leather against my skin, the slice of metal drawing blood the snap as it rebounded back into the air. I inhaled sharply, hissing as the lash came down again against my skin.
Gahrfas turned around and scowled at the death knight, whom only laughed some more with glee.
"That's enough!" my captor growled and yanked hard on my bound wrists as he continued forward.
We didn't make it very far before a dark figure stopped our march. He must have been 6'6" and seemed a giant to my 5'4". He didnt just tower, he cast a shadow over the corridor, his shoulders blocking out the light, his massive armor like oily shadows in the gloom. We came to a stop not far from him, and I chanced a glance up out of sheer necessity and tried to shrink myself into the shadows at once.
The legends had it that Arthas Menethil had been charming and handsome, the golden son of the king of Lordaeron before he had been corrupted and fused to become the Lich King he was today. But those were nothing more than legends, I knew that now. Had there ever been charm and gentleness in that face it was long gone. Evil surrounded him like an aura, his blue eyes glowing with it behind the straggly white hair that fell in his face.
"Nice haul" spoke his gravelly voice, and just hearing it made me cringe. I kept my eyes on my feet, knowing that had I looked into his face I would have visibly convulsed in disgust.
I stole a glance anyway, like a bystander unable to look away from a gruesome death.
He was eyeing us, the "haul" he had commented on, considering. I didnt want to know just what he was considering but i found out soon enough.
"I've an empty room in my slave quarter. Send a good one over."
and then he turned, quickly spinning away to pound down the hall.
"I've a right one for you milord" Gahrfas quickly piped up, readily looking for the favor it could grant him with his king. I didn't know, but it didnt seem to do him any good. He received nothing more than a grunt as his king shifted his massive shoulders and continued on.
"oh i've a right one for you milord," came a snide voice once the king was well out of hearing range. it seemed Gahrfas was a newly enlisted death knight, and a young man before that to boot, making him an easy target of teasing and merciless ribbing from the other death knights. He was still looking for acceptance and commendation from his superiors in a way that seemed both childish and almost endearing - if he hadnt been trying to pass me around in the process.
We broke from the group, turning down a near corridor and i was led by my wrists through a maze like array of hallways and staircases until we reached our destination on the far side of the castle.
Gahrfas opened the door and ushered me inside, leaving it open as he called to one of the many servants bustling through the halls. I looked around wide eyed, unsure of what to think. the room was small but nothing of what i would ever have expected when I had been hauled off with the others like chattle. It was a well appointed room despite its size. A large bed filled most of it, covered in dark blue silk puffed up with down. Matching pillows adorned it, threaded with gold. The table and wardrobe were simply made, but well crafted and a small trunk gleamed at the foot of the bed. A plush navy blue chair next to the table and a thick wool rug on the floor completed the room's accents. Blue tinged light streamed through the one window set into the cold stone wall - a light i knew would not recede at night thanks to Northrend's location, and was glad to note the heavy curtain draped next to it from the wall.
the thing that bothered me was what i was doing here. it seemed that this was meant to be my new room, but at what price? i could only imagine that i was to be left here to the whims of the lich king and i shivered at the thought.
while i had been surveying the small space, a basin had been carried in by two of the servants Gahrfas had alerted. I didn't notice however until i felt rough hands working through the laces at the back of my linen gown. I tried to turn away, to escape the grasp, but was powerless against the strength of the death knight. Completely divested of every stitch of clothing and trying futilely to cover myself in the frigid bite of the air, I glared at Gahrfas.
Gahrfas for his part, was taking his time, looking over my exposed flesh lecherously first before lifting me. he dropped me unceremoniously in the oversized basin, the ice cold water numbing me to the bone. I jumped back up almost immediately only to be pushed back into a sit by Gahrfas.
"not until you're clean"
so I sat there, scrubbing my skin with the hard chunk of soap i had been offered, all the while staring a hole into the wall across from me unwilling to make eye contact. The servants were still present, and both male, a fact that did not go unnoticed by me. Finally when i had finished one of these men handed me a swath of rough wool that i gathered was meant for me to dry with. It seemed unsuitable for the task, as thick as it was and likely to stink with mildew if left in a cold place like this but i took it anyway, glad to have something to cover myself with.
Gahrfas had gone over to the wardrobe, which was apparently already filled with gowns. I wondered whom they and the room had belonged to before, and what had happened to her. Nothing good, i was sure.
I started when a green tangle of cloth landed squarely in my face and pulled it back, to reveal a green dyed linen gown that would hardly provide warmth or decency on a deserted island off of sun soaked Durotar.
He turned to leave, not waiting to watch me change at least, the two servants trailing him. He paused at the door and turned, appraising me again, so that i became instantly self conscious of my uncombed hair.
"And make yourself look..." he paused as though floundering for a word that would be within my ability to obtain. He gestured wildly with one hand as he thought, and it reminded me of one of the young men i had known in Lakeshire, no doubt captured and sent to work in the farms, if not dead awaiting revival as a death knight. I shuddered.
Gahrfas squinted at me, and with a sigh of hopeless exasperation settled on "presentable".