I was on a diplomatic mission. The Argent Dawn had established itself in Darrowmere Forest, and as a Warrior of Peace for the Night Elf Sentinels, an ambassador of sorts, it was my duty to negotiate alliances between the neutral factions and the allied races.
It was a mildly pleasant day, overcast as it were, the farmlands of Darrowmere were in good health and its people, though few in number, remained loyal to their homeland even after the fall of their true king. My lady Sentinels and I strode along the cobblestone path on our giant saber cats. It had been a long journey from the capital city of the Night Elf island Teldrassil to the Eastern Kingdoms. Avoiding enemy factions along the way was also important.
The saber cats were tired now, no longer galloping fiercely, but pacing together, their shoulders rolled from side to side as we approached the Chapel. Paladin Guards of all races in silver armor lined the roadside up to the Chapel's entrance. We called our saber cats to a halt and dismounted. They yawned happily, stretching their front paws and shaking their heads.
Facing my Grey Leopard Saber cat, Tempest, with a smile and a scratch behind the ears, I recalled the summon. Tempest vanished in a wisp of smoke, back to her home stable in Darnassus.
The lady Sentinels waited for my mark, and we made our way up the hill. It was not only a strategic location, but a scenic one. The valleys below were shrouded in fog.
The Chapel itself was more like a fortress now, its weathered walls now barricaded by sturdier stone complete with an armory in the center of the main spire. It was the safest place in Darrowmere Forest, though I wasn't keen on making a more permanent stay. Any stay longer than a week or two and the negotiations would be as good as dropped. The Light's Hope was a neutral faction, but very selective of what kinds of peace they liked to keep.
Their Draenei general approached our squad, kneeling in respect, "Greetings, peacekeepers. Glad to see you had a safe journey. I hope the road wasn't too treacherous."
"Thank you, Sir." I returned his gesture with a bow, and my Lady Sentinels knelt behind me. "It was a journey worth making. I have high hopes for this alliance."
The general rose to his feet and motioned us into the Chapel. "Indeed, as do I. Your people will be a great asset. The Light will guide us all to justice."
"General!" A soldier called out from behind, "I-In the mountains to the North!" he cried out in fear.
We turned to focus on the skyline to the north, where the jagged peaks were low to the horizon. A dark shape loomed over the slopes. It was massive, and moving fast.
As it came closer, the general gasped, "The Scourge." Terror coated his voice, leaving only a hoarse whisper and panic in his eyes.
The shape moving in from the mountains was an enormous ziggurat, enhanced by magic to give it flight. It was then that I realized I was too close. I couldn't think fast enough. The four corners of the scourge machine emitted dark fumes from metal gates. I feared the worst. It began to hover more slowly as it approached the Light's Hope Chapel.
My Lady Sentinels shrieked, one cried, "Madam- what are your orders?"
I turned to them, equally terrified, "Elune save us all." I muttered the ancient prayer.
They gawked in horror at me, and then at each other.
"RUN!" I screamed.
They obeyed, and bolted to the woods directly south. I feared they will not make it back out alive. I feared none of us would. The general was still frozen, staring at the northern hills, and called out his god's name in vain. I turned back to him, standing at his side, sharing his gaze.
The hills were suddenly covered in thousands of undead soldiers under command of the Lich. They grotesquely staggered across the lands, intending to kill and feast upon us all. No place in Darrowmere was safe anymore. Suddenly a great hiss echoed from inside the ziggurat- hot, green Plaguebrew poured out of the four corners; like a waterfall it spilled onto the lush earth around us. The brew immediately consumed and boiled a regiment of Light's Hope soldiers- who hadn't even a moment to scream. They washed down the west side of the hill, into a river, causing it to steam and fester.
Another wave of Plaguebrew spewed from the mile wide fortress, this time, only a few feet uphill from where the general and I were standing. Instinctively, I leaped, and tuck-rolled out of the way enough to make a safe run for the chapel tower. I looked back. The general was petrified. The Plaguebrew sloshed down upon the hilltop, cascading ferociously toward the general. It wasn't until it was too late that he finally attempted to flee. Only to be consumed by the roiling diseased syrup.
Dark clouds began to circle in the skies, as if to remind us all of the ever impending demise of death; or worse- un-death. I shuddered and remembered my first encounter with the scourge.
I arrive in the healing wing of the druid nest of our city. The sentry brought words to our family that his injury was healed, but he was now suffering from a mysterious disease.
"Flandir, you're ill…?"
"I know." he coughs, foul mucus came up. "But I want to take every last breath I can. Please let me die in peace, Phoenix."
"As you wish."
I let my brother die by the plague, and after his burial, the lich reanimated him; made him a monster. His soul will never rest in peace now. If you die by plague, you spend all of death in plague. A tear escaped, rolling down my cheek- I wiped it away, along with my most painful memory. The memory was gone, but the fear and sadness was real.
The plague was real, and so was death.
Legions of rotting reanimated corpses raced across the hills. I took no chances. After grasping the air over my shoulder, I was reassured by the presence of my greatsword secure on my back. Looking up to the hills again, the head of the undead wave peeked over the hill. Their grotesque faces quivering with hunger. Immediately they noticed me, and charged.
I bolted to the chapel tower, and nearly lost my footing as I dashed through the stone corridor to the spiral staircase. Marching as quickly as I could, I began to panic. Spears and axes were mounted along the walls, none of them seemed more helpful than my sword. The screeches of the undead echoed through the empty spaces of the chapel. Closer. I felt the sweat of fear begin to dampen the leather armor beneath my shoulder plates and in the creases of skin under my knees.
"Elune, hear my prayer, lend me your strength!" I choked; sour tears welled under my eyes.
At the top of the spiral stairs, a trap door was inset on the greasy stone ceiling. Hands shaking, I unlatched it, clambered up, and slammed it shut again. Realizing I was no longer inside the chapel tower, but on a flat roof of a bailey. There was nothing to secure the trap door with from the outside. The wind had picked up as more sinister clouds welled up from above the scourge air smelled of acid, blood, and flesh. The scourge had begun to send in their high troops, the most terrifying of all, the Death Knights. They slaughtered mercilessly, unquestionably doing the biddings of the Lich himself. On their undead steeds they trampled over the chaos, not even yielding to avoid their lesser undead kin. The Death Knights killed with plagues, frost, and unholy magic. If the mindless undead don't kill me, the Death Knights certainly would.
The trap door began to rattle; the moans and growls were too close now. I unsheathed my sword, hands shaking- I stood my ground. I shuffled backwards, my ankle bumped a narrow chest.
The trap door continued to rattle, the undead may not be intelligent enough to pry open the door, but it wouldn't be much longer before they figured it out. I whipped around to quickly open the chest.
A military standard blunderbuss lay inside. There were no spare bullets. I slid my sword back into its sheath, grasping the blunderbuss. I unlatched the top compartment to check if the gun was loaded. Nothing. My ears cringed. The creak of a familiar greasy trap door hinge opened from behind me.
I stood, unsheathed my sword again, and slowly turned to face the evil under the trap door.
Fleshy, discolored hands reached up from the opening all at once- overlapping and crossing desperately. Until a mottled, hairy head rose above the crowd of limbs. It darted about, hissed, and turned to find me. It gargled loudly, struggling to climb above the other undead. More rotting limbs flailed from the opening. The first scourged undead lunged out directly at me- but I was quick enough to assault it with my sword at its neck, partially severing its head from its shoulders. The foul creature did not bleed- its body locked up and crumpled to the bailey floor. Two more undead made its their way out of the trap door, rushing to grab at my armor. I hit one with the blunt edge of my sword, pushed it back, only to look behind it to see the trap door was flooding with undead scourge.
I began slashing my sword furiously, and screamed like mad. When one would fall, another would climb over through the mob. They began to tear away at my armor- their strength was overwhelming. I fell back, hitting my head on the corner of the stone wall that lined the bailey. Tunnel vision set in, my nerves went numb, and I could feel my consciousness fading. The undead toppled down all around me, clutching at my armor and yanking it apart. My sword was gone, lost in the masses of mangled reanimated corpses.
I found strength inside to fight back. I threw a punch at the nearest undead mass I could see. Before I could throw another, excruciating pain radiated from my right knee. I cried out, but my screams were swallowed by the undead's hungering gargles. They had pulled off my knee guards, ripped through the leather pants underneath, and taken a mouthful of my leg. There was no getting back up now; but my instinct drove me to survive- I kicked, I screamed, I punched and punched. The mobs kept coming, and after the first wound, they went for more. The filthy bodies hurled themselves at me, they gnawed and scraped at my body.
It stung, it burned, I could feel the plague infecting my open wounds.
My heart pulsed quickened out of panic to keep me alive, but only pushed more blood out.
No breath seemed satisfying enough, no bite less painful.
The mindless creatures tore open my leather jerkin, frantically piercing my gut with their raw fingers. My chest heaved- they broke open my skin, and as I screamed-
they feasted upon my insides, my throat filled with my own blood.
When I woke, I was kneeling on a stone overlook. A tall, broad-shouldered human garnished in icy, plate armor looked down on me. Cold blue eyes pierced my conscious. His voice called to me:
"All that I am; anger cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality so that you may herald a new, dark age for the scourge. Gaze now upon the lands below us. The Scarlet Crusade scurries to undo my work, while the Light's Hope stands defiantly against us- a blemish upon these plaguelands. They must all be shown the price of their defiance. You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny. DeadPhoenix."