I am SO sorry for the lack of updates, I've just been really unmotivated and distracted to write and upload. Also, I'm a little all over the place for my personal projects.
Anyway, please enjoy!
Prologue
The woman high-elf sat at her table in her pink-tinted marble home; her red and gold battle armor shining in the brazier light and her crimson red cloak swaying from the strong breeze coming from outside. She had her cloak hood off so that it draped over her soldiers, and she was staring out the window at the ever-darkening sky; it was funny how it seemed even sun could see their doom through the shadowed clouds that blocked its rays. The enemy hadn't been spotted yet, but chilling cold and utter sorrow of her people as their deaths approached like an awaiting storm. The door on her right swished open, and a familiar old blood-elf walked in
"My lady, they are coming."
Syresselen sighed and turned to her old friend. They're glowing green eyes meet, both shone with dread for the other, but strength for themselves.
"I know, Ratheas. I know." The pair of blood elves stood and embraced each other one last time.
"Goodbye Commander Starspear." Ratheas said mournfully as he patted her pale golden hair.
"Goodbye Master." Syresselen said to her former mentor, the knowledge that this would be the last time she saw him alive weighing heavily on her shoulders.
The white-haired elf pulled back from the embrace, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Will you accept an old master's final words of advice?" The commander nodded, her curled golden locks slapping across her tanned skin. "You are the greatest warrior our guild has ever seen. A perfect sword master. Remember, we follow you. Your decisions will shape this battle, and even though we have no hope of victory against this army, we will fight until we are all dead." The words sent a another spear of despair into her heart, I'm leading these people to their deaths. My bothers and sisters in the Forsakenroses…
Her former master squeezed her shoulders once more before turning and walking back the way he had come. He paused just before he closed the door, "Do not forget, your sword is not the blade you hold. It's the will of all those you fight for." And he was gone.
Sryesselen stared after him for a moment, before she turned to the balcony behind her. The Aldariana Stronghold. Another blood elf was standing in the archway. A male again, with a similar tone of skin to her's, if only a few shades darker. She approached him, watching as his glimmering green eyes followed her through his orange bangs.
"Hello Perlath." Sryesselen said as casually as she could. A small smile touched her husband's face at the sound of her voice.
"Trying to 'lighten the mood' as Teraeli would say?" he smirked at her resulting frown. The woman put her hands on her hips and threw her head back before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"I still don't know where she gets it from! Gods, I bet she learned it from the cursed ambassadors!" she moaned. Her husband chuckled at her antics, remembering how his wife hated the Blood Elf representatives that came to make sure the stronghold was secure. He internally deflated at the thought. The stronghold wasn't secure anymore, it was about to fall.
"You need to say goodbye to her you know." Perlath reminded her.
"I will. I won't run off to die without seeing my own daughter one last time." Syresselen said, a small but sad smile replacing her previously lighthearted expression.
Her husband took her face in his hands, before leaning in and kissing her gently. The kiss seemed to last a lifetime, and it place wonderful feeling in Syresselen's heart. But then her husband pulled away, and she was meet with his soft eyes once more. Grief gripped her so strongly that it rocked her very soul, but before she act on it Perath released her and walked to the door Ratheas had used before.
He stopped and turned to her one last time. "Sadencha is in her room, up in the tower." He left and said nothing more, there was nothing left to say.
Syresselen sigh, a sound that betrayed her dimmed inner emotions, before walking over to a marble staircase in the back of the circular room. She climbed them heavily, not truly aware of her surroundings except for the clomping of her leather boots and the swish of her cloak. She came to the top and stopped in front of a door that looked exactly like the rest of the doors in the house, a dark oak with a black metal handle.
The mother took a deep breath, and opened the door to say goodbye to her only daughter.
The mother walking into the bare-looking room. Everything is in packed. Good. They won't find anything of value when they tear this place to the ground. She mused as she looked around the room. It was the same kind of marble that was in the rest of the house, and it had some birch wood furniture that would be left behind; a desk, a bed with a nightstand, and only stool that was currently occupied.
Syresselen looked at her daughter. She had her pale, almost white hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and her pale skin jumped out past her red and gold tunic.
She was focused on the window, her back to her mother and apparently oblivious to her presence. Syresselen cleared her throat to gain the adolescent's attention. Sadencha snapped her head back in her mother's attention. Her face was an exact copy of her father's, except her jaw line, that she got from her.
"Mother!" The girl stood upright and closed the distance between them in less than a second. Syresselen opened her arms wide and clasped her only child to her chest, feeling the small bit of happiness she received from holding her daughter (even if it was the last time).
"Mother, the group that is leaving is ready, I was watching from the window." Sadencha told her mother. Syresselen smiled softly at her daughter's hidden plea. She pulled back from the hug and placed one of her hand's on her child's thin shoulders.
"And I can tell you that the others and I are ready for this battle." Sadencha hung her head in sorrow at her mother's words.
"If you go, you will die." the young blood elf whispered.
"That I am well-aware of."
"I'll never see you again!" Sadencha nearly shouted, her voice filled with utter grief and sorrow.
"And I wish that was not so, for I love you very much, my daughter." Syresselen kneeled down on one knee and looked her only child in the eyes, the same shade of glowing green as her's. "But, these are my soldiers, all who would lay down their lives for mine or your father's or even your's." As she spoke her daughter started crying silently and tears began rolling down her pale face. "How can I not do the same for them?"
"I love you." was all Sadencha said in response. Syresselen opened her parted her lips to tell her beloved child the same.
But she never got the chance.
Shouting and screaming from outside halted their exchange. Syresselen raced over to the window, pressed her palms into the marble windowsill and leaned out to see what the commotion was. She gasped when she looked over to the northern hills.
The Scourge was coming over the hill tops.
The army was truly all of what her scouts had described; an army of death itself. In the front lines alone she could see flesh-rotting ghouls and various creatures made entirely of stained yellow bones; zombie-like slaves that seemed to be made of pieces from salvaged corpses all stitched together lumbering around the ranks; ghostly spectres that floated across the ground, their hands reaching forward as if imagining their wraithlike claws in the body of their next victim; undead magic-users and their dark minions, their hands glowing with the sheer amount of power they controlled.
The worst of all; there were thousands, and there were barely a hundred warriors in the stronghold. There was no hope for any kind of victory. They would all die.
She barely registered her daughter peering out beside her until the battle horns around the stronghold sounded. She was needed.
"Sadencha, go find your father. Tell him to ride as fast as possibly to safety. Do not falter. Go now!" She commanded as she turned and left the room. Her final sight of her daughter was of her beautiful glowing eyes opened wide in horror.
. . . . . . . .
Syresselen burst through the main door to her home before running toward her soldiers. She sprinted past the fear-stricken elves as they stared at the approaching army. She reached the northern gate where her second, Sadlen, meet her.
"Report!" Syresselen commanded.
"M'lady! The group aboard the hawkstriders just left through the south gates. They said they will deliver your message to as soon as they arrive." Sadlen said. Syresselen nodded, a great relief blossoming within her as she learned that her family was safely away from here.
The guild leader nodded before bowing her head and letting out a heavy sigh. "This is it, my friend. Thank you for everything." She told him quietly. She lifted her head and turned her attention to the massed fighters before her. There wasn't a lot of time left, they needed to be quick.
The warrior reached with her right hand and wrapped it around her waist, where she closed her fingers around the golden hilt of her sword. She unsheathed it slowly, the sound of the blade sliding along the framed hilt drawing the attention of her warriors. By the time she had raised her sword over her head, all pairs of glowing green eyes were on her.
"Brothers and sisters of my guild." Syresselen began, her voice booming over the almost utter silence of the stronghold; the advancing Scourge could still be heard.
"Today, we face a foe we all know we have no chance of defeating." She lowered her weapon to her side and began calmly pacing back and forth in front of the gathered crowd. "Today, we face an enemy that will tear down our beloved Aldariana Stronghold and leave it to rot." Howls of rage erupted from some of the elves around her, and she allowed them to die on their own before continuing.
"But worst of all my friends of the Forsakenroses, is that all of us here today will surely fall." Complete silence; it felt as if the air was suffocating them. "But, we will not be dying in vain."
"As of right now, our young and old, our families and friends who have lived beside us in this home are on their way to safety." Smiles and cheers of relief met her announcement. Many had brought their family here in the hopes that they would be able to protect them from the fate that befell those of Quel'Thalas; Syresselen had made sure that that hope was not tarnished this day.
"We will fight, and we will die for them! We will take down as many of the Scourge as we can, and defend our people one last time!" The woman declared. The blood elves shouted and cheered, their eyes seemed to actually be lit aflame with their conviction and dedication.
The Scourge was almost to the gates now, their footsteps raining down like hail falling from the sky. Syresselen paid them no mind yet. Instead, she flashed her fighters a confident smile before lifting her sword to the sky.
"Follow me then! Follow me to our final stand as warriors of the Forsakenroses! To kill the dead!"
The warriors responded to by raising their swords above their heads and bellowing a wordless cry.
….
Syresselen stood in front of her guild. They were all just outside the gates, facing the oncoming Scourge with eyes that were as hard as steel, although the guild master's was directed at one in particular. They were only a few yards away from each other, the head of their respective armies. Both of their swords were drawn, his glowing with ancient blue runes and her's reflecting the blotted sunlight.
"The Lich King." Syresselen addressed, her voice as cold as ice.
"Commander Syresselen Starspear. Word of your achievements have reached my ears." Syresselen gave no facial response to his spectral voice or his words except for raising a single eyebrow slightly.
"You and your warriors have managed to halt my Scourge from advancing past this point. I have sent squadron after squadron of ghouls and ghosts to squash your puny resistance. And yet…" The Lich King lifted the tip of his blade and pointed it at the guild master, "you have defeated them at every turn."
Syresselen smirked slightly, but her stone-hard expression did not alter. "Maybe you're not as powerful as you believe yourself to be. You certainly didn't have the idea to change tactics after your abominations were defeated time and time again. Could it be that the "all-powerful" and "unbeatable" Lich King isn't so strong after all?" she giggled. Behind her, her troops started to laugh, some even sneering at the armored king.
A different laughter rose up, this one more maniacal, and it effectively silenced the warriors. Syresselen's gaze, already as hard as stone, evolved to be as hard as steel. The high-elf stared as the Lich King's humongous form shook as he chuckled.
"Ah, an understandable conclusion. It is true I have not sent anything more powerful than mindless slaves, but do not misread it as our display of strength." The Lich King swung his sword in a half circle, gesturing to those around him, "In truth, it was more of a test. A test of worthiness."
Syresselen raised an eyebrow, the indicator to her confusion, "A test? Of worthiness? What nonsense are you prattling on about?"
"Haha… You will know soon enough, my friend." Suddenly, he raised his sword skyward, much like she had done a few moments before. Realization came over Syresselen, but she was too late.
"Attack!"
Blood, blood everywhere.
The high-elves had been caught unawares, and the Scourge had cut some down before they even had a chance to blink. Arrows and the aftermath of spells littered the ground, along with fallen weapons...and fighters. Their once glowing eyes stared sightlessly ahead, their mouths agape, whether it is in a cry of victory or a cry of fear will never be known.
Syresselen cut down undead after undead, her blade slicing through them like they were nothing more than ignorant shrubbery. The guild master's screams of rage and sorrow echoed louder than the clangs and bangs of weaponry and the Scourge's howls of war.
"Cease!"
Syresselen froze as she turned her attention to where the Lich King was standing. The man had his weapon drawn, and yet there was no blood at all… He never lifted even a finger to fight! The guild master raged. The vile monarch cast his glowing ice-like eyes around, sensing his troops scurrying away in fear of his glare until both Syresselen and the Lich King were stood in a circle. Syresselen casted her own eyes around her as well, her heart taking blow after blow as she recognized each and everyone of her beloved guild members.
Sadlen… The high-elf warrior laid in a pool of his own blood that was still dripping from his wounds. A black feathered arrow stuck out from his pale forehead, his lime green eyes staring at nothing, not anymore. Syresselen's gaze lingered on his body the longest out of all of her warriors. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as she thought about how there would never be another battle to fight beside him with; how there would never be one to many drinks to be had together. Her greatest friend; gone.
"Hmph." The Lich King scoffed. He had followed her gaze and seen the slaughtered high-elf.
The guild master's grief turned to fury.
"Arrogant monster!" Syresselen growled through clenched teeth, "I will make certain that you suffer a death worse than his!" She ripped off her hood, allowing her curly golden locks to spill over her shoulders.
"Ah, Syresselen. You have no idea of what will come next. You believe a sanctuary awaits you in death, but you will soon discover that fate will never befall you or your soldiers." The Lich King stated.
"If you think I will ever allow that to happen..." Syresselen hisses.
The Lich King held forward his mighty sword, and said, "It is pointless to explain now, come! Your destiny awaits."
The sun had long set by the time the battle was done. The dual between Syresselen and the Lich King had been a true struggle. Both had a large advantage over the other; Syresselen was agile and the Lich King was powerful. The fight was almost even.
Almost.
The high-elf was alive, and so she tired. The Lich King was undead, and so he did not need rest like the living did. In a moment of uncharacteristic like slowness, Syresselen was cut down by Frostmourne, her torso cut too deeply to be healed. She bled out in minutes, but remarkably, she did not once cry out in the sheer agony she suffered through.
With her death, the centuries old guild of the Forsakenroses vanished. The Aldariana Stronghold was left the face the elements and be forever vacant of life.
But, the story does not end here, for Syresselen's body and the mangled corpses of the slain were carried away, to face a fate worse than the deaths they had all just faced.
Huh? Huuuuh? How was it?! What did you think? I spent awhile trying to make sure I got the lore right, and did my best to make the names realistic.
Also, Sadlen's death was in honor of my boy Saddie, and I did my best to channel the feelings I felt for my own grieving process. Please tell me how I did!
And please, tell me if you'd like me to keep going with this story. But be warned, it will just be the quests a Death Knight starts out with up to the point where they are sent to Stormwind to officially represent the Ebony Hold. Sadencha and Perath and even Ratheas will return in the story to. I didn't make them just to never use them again.
Whether or not I continue this story, I will be doing a similar one with the Worgen race, and that goes on quite a while longer than the Death Knight's. And don't worry about A Different Choice, I'm having a bit of writer's block for event ideas. If anyone has any suggestions, please either leave them here, or on the actual story.
Please R&R! And thanks for reading!