I can almost taste their blood. I can almost feel their fear. I am in ecstasy. My sword cuts a bloody arc through the fleeing elves, severing arms and legs, and cutting open throats and stomachs. It impales one of the elves through the back of his skull, his scream cut short as my blade enters his brain. One elf turns to face me, a mad terror giving her a frenzied courage. I seize the hapless elf by the throat and bash her skull in against a tree. Another leaps for me, sword held high. My sword severs his head in a single stroke. The rest flee in terror as I release the mangled corpse of the elf whose brains I pulped. I look at the bloody mess at my feet. This was barely worth the effort. Slowly, I wrench the heart out of the chest of the beheaded elf. As I squeeze the red fluid into my mouth, I feel the invigorating sensation of life. I feel the cold heart in my chest begin to beat once more, blood pumping through my veins. The sensation will vanish soon enough, but for now, it sustains me. I now stand alone, this small forest glade stained red by my hunger. I do not know where I am, but that is easily remedied. I seize the chin of a slain elf, bringing the creature's face to eye level. A few choice words in the old tongue, and a shimmering image stands before me, the soul of the slain elf.
What have you done to me? Why am I here? The spirit screams. Understandable, the agony of soul binding is rather intense. So is the shock of being wrenched from the grasp of death.
"Where is here?" A useful stipulation of this spell, the entrapped soul must answer the summoner. I thank Nagash for this now. It would be terribly annoying if I had to interrogate a ghost.
Du Weldenvarden. The home of the elves. Why are you doing this to me? The last sentence is spoken as a sob. Heartbreaking. Pathetic.
"What is this land called?"
Alagaesia! Alagaesia! Please! Let me go! Rather amusing this suffering routine of the resurrected souls. I must do this more often.
A wave of my hand, and the spirit vanishes. Alagaesia, a land I have never heard of. No matter. Sylvania or anywhere else, I am still immortal, and I still hunger. I am content.
With a satisfied sigh, I walk off into the darkness of the forest, soft moonlight reflecting off of my armor.