One Shot WoW
Disclaimer: I don't own WoW.
This story is set from the view point of a young Warlock.
The Meeting
And there he was…Varimathras. My hands began to sweat, like they always do right before I have to talk to him.
The temperature dropped significantly by the time I reached the stairs that led up to the platform he was standing on. He gave off such a cold, cruel radiance. I shivered.
I counted the steps…there were eight of them…eight short steps…each one colder than the last on my bare feet.
I reached the platform and stopped, reluctant to walk closer to the Dreadlord.
I looked over at Lady Sylvanas. She stood across from Varimathras on her own raised perch, giving orders to her loyal soldiers, the ones called Forsaken.
Her presence was almost equally as frightening, even though her form was smaller, she was just as commanding and her aura was consumed with vengeance.
I hate being here. I hate Undercity period. How many times I've wished the whole bloody place would collapse. I never get that lucky. If the ceiling fell on me right now I would welcome it.
Take me, the demon, and the whole damned lot.
I took a deep breath and wiped my sweaty palms on my robe. Varimathras shot me an impatient look. He knew I was hesitating. His crimson eyes burned fear into my soul. I wanted to run away screaming. But I didn't. Instead I slowly approached him.
I stood before him shivering from the cold, or was I trembling in fear? I couldn't tell at this point.
Please let the ceiling fall on me.
END