Rotting

Part I: "The Shade"

It was a dark and lonely night in the kingdom of Stormwind, the center of the human civilization on Azeroth. The city was a grand place with five different districts and a castle. The ruler of the kingdom was absent, leaving his young son to take the throne in his stead. To those who lived in the city, they knew what chaos was; it happened on a daily basis. Tonight was no exception.

In one district of the city – Old Town – there is a tavern. It is referred to as "The Pig" but is really called "The Pig and Whistle." It was comfortably placed in the edge of the district between the SI:7 headquarters and entrance to the district from the Dwarven District and castle.

Within this tavern, the only sources of light were the flickering candles which barely kept the place lit enough for someone to see anything. It was almost closing time for them, and the only one left was the apprentice of the owner. His name was William Jagstone. He was a young man, about in his early twenties. His hair was auburn and pulled behind his ears with sideburns that melded into a beard and mustache. His face was clean and unblemished except for an X shaped scar on his cheek. His eyes were a brilliant emerald green and flicked with youthful liveliness.

His back was to the door of the dimly lit bar, a cloth in one hand and a mug in the other as he cleaned it. He placed it on the shelf as he finished and slowly started to turn around, jumping as he saw a figure sitting at the counter.

He was frozen with surprise, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up-straight and the color draining out of his face. The figure was covered in black robes and a large hood that shadowed his face. What little that could be seen was not all that clear. He had a flat chin with dark hair covering it. His forearms rested on the counter with his gloved right hand and bandaged left hand. The bandages weren't at all in a quick or messy manner at all. They wrapped around the individual digits as well as the palm and disappeared into his sleeves.

The right hand rose up and tapped at the counter with the forefinger, the young man behind the wooden slab turning quickly, grabbing the mug he just cleaned, filling it from the tap of the keg and resting it gently but shakily in front of the cloaked figure. The hand of the finger that had tapped the wood moved over to the handle of it, pulled it up to the hood and slowly tilted it back.

It took a several seconds for the shadow to finish drinking, resting the glass back on the slab and slowly standing, turning and walking to the exit. Despite his fear, young and naïve William was not going to let this stranger leave without paying his tab…

"H-hey! Come back! I can't be giving out free drinks! The boss will get mad at me…" Half-way to the door, the figure stopped in his tracks. William stood there, his entire body trembling, waiting for the man to make his move. A dull hiss came from the apparition, the bandaged hand moving up to the hood to slowly pull it down, a wave of dark hair tumbling out from it and draping over his shoulders.

"You should have just let me walk away." Within the blink of an eye, the figure had disappeared and re-appeared behind William, the wrapped hand covering over his mouth with the fearful character behind him. With just his mouth covered, William just realized a terrible and disgusting odor – the scent of rotting flesh. The head of the figure leaned in so his face was right beside the would-be barkeeper's and it was obvious what that stench was coming from.

This thing that had assaulted William wasn't human by any means. It was dead – flesh ghostly pale, skin ripped from the cheeks to show the sinew of muscle and jaw-bones. The face had several holes littered about it. They were small, though, so could not have been from a projectile of sorts. In place of the eyes, were two dimly glowing, magenta orbs which seemed to flicker erratically and intensely.

Suddenly, something intruded Williams's mouth. It felt like an almond but was easily able to pass through his throat and slowly fall into his gullet. He even heard the splash of it hitting the acids in his stomach and felt it through a wave of incredible pain that shot through his entire body from that area. He attempted to scream, but it was muffled by the semi-thick bandages.

"Shh, Shhh… No need to alert any near-by guards…" The undead whispered rasply into William's ear, and it did nothing to calm his nerves. Another shockwave of pain coursed through the young man's body, nearly sending him into unconsciousness. Suddenly, the hand left his mouth and the figure had moved back to his original spot. Without the support, William fell over and started to cringe and whimper in pain. The figure had his gloved hand up, middle and forefinger pressing to the thumb.

"Don't worry. You bore me now…" The fingers suddenly snapped, and William's belly blew open, throwing the intestines, liver, kidneys and what remained of the stomach in all directions. All of this gore seemed to completely avoid the unnatural man but coated the floor, walls and even some of the ceiling with the young man's blood and organs.

On the outside of the bar, several guards stood by the door. Suddenly, one of them kicked in the door, and the others rushed in with their rifles in hand. They saw the gore, the lifeless body and smelled the foul odor, but the cause of all of this was nowhere to be seen…

On his way towards the way out of this district, the re-hooded figure dragged his feet along the ground lazily, his arms barely swaying, his shoulders rolling with every step. His destination was the castle. His target was a noble woman, one that was not of the grandest of statuses but was tolerated by the young prince and served as an ambassador from the northern lands of Lordaeron – or what was left of it.

For the glory of his Queen, he would not fail on this assignment…