Toldir stepped through the death gate. Immediately he was thrust upon the ground and assaulted by ghouls and geists. His hunter mail armor ripped and torn from his body with rough but careful hands and limbs. He wasn't the only one. Dozens of others of various races were pulled through death gates similar to his own, the Lich King disappearing into the crowd of people gathered on the edge of the balcony of the floating necropolis, Acherus.
Toldir wanted to fight back as he was stripped down and felt vulnerable, but his body wouldn't respond. Everything was happening so fast. All his previous thoughts and feelings were blurry and black. He couldn't remember anything short of a few minutes ago, when he was surrounded by lightning covered in snow in the middle of Northrend after he…
"…died." He thought to himself.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to fight, but again his body would know nothing of reaction to his command. He lay there on his hands and knees, surrounded by draenei, orcs, elves of all kinds, heroes of the Horde and of the Alliance alike. All stripped down to their basic clothing covering little.
There was a strong presence in his mind there with his thoughts, pressing. Speaking to him, whispering to him, he wanted to close his eyes to focus, fruitless as an endeavor that was.
"Obey. Obey. Obey. Obey." All he heard was that word, over and over it played in his head. Softly, quietly, whispering, it wasn't the dark gravel-like voice of the Lich King, it almost sounded, human.
"Get these soldiers to the armorer! Now!" A voice shouted over the racket of armor being dragged and dropped in a pile.
The voice in his head trailed off now, but his head was throbbing. His body moved again, getting up this time, moving to line up with the others in a single-file line.
"Why is my body so heavy? Where am I?" Toldir thought to himself. He stood, and moved, stood and moved. He attempted to move his eyes away from the back of a human standing in front of him, he couldn't feel anything either.
"Turn dammit. TURN. LOOK!" Toldir struggled with his body, his eyelids inched. Blink. Blink. He blinked once more, it took everything in his power to move his eyes. Everything felt increasingly heavy the more he struggled to move on his own. He managed to slowly turn his eyes to the right. Peeping out from this broad-shouldered human in front of him was the sight of Acherus' walls. Blue flame and stone. His troll ears twitching and adjusting. He saw shadows flickering against the flames. Creatures shaped like skeletons, abominations, ghouls, and geists playing against the fire's light and shadow. Summoning his strength to turn his eyes to the left, he could make out training dummies and an open room. Various cloaked and armored individuals of all races were clashing steel and throwing dark magics at one another.
It came his turn in line, a large skeletal blacksmith finished hammering out some armor and cloth pieces and handed to them, which Toldir accepted willingly and moved on. He donned the armor, clasped the buckles, and without a second thought. It was almost as if it felt a part of him. It was comfortable and warming.
He stared out now into the room, looking straight ahead, blinking becoming second nature to him again. His own. The weight of his body becoming lighter, even though he was wearing heavy armor.
"Plate armor, heavier than my mail armor. But it feels…natural." He sighed in his head and attempted a deep breath, his body unresponsive as it moved as robotically as the rest.
Dark blue and grey heavy robes and a heavy hood covered him head to toe, although his troll feet still were out in the open, still hardy as ever, but that didn't bother him one bit. The floor was cold and comforting. They marched over to the Lich King overlooking the balcony and into the valley below.
"The Scarlet Enclave…" the Lich King mused, still looking out towards his foes. He spoke slow and harsh, but low.
Inside that harsh voice Toldir heard the familiar human sounding voice, the one not so far from his own thoughts.
"Stand on your own feet, champions." The Lich King spoke. In an instant, all the initiates including Toldir collectively gasped and either fell to the floor, took a knee, or shifted. Each acting differently as the Lich King's hold on their bodies was lifted to give them some sort of illusion of freedom.
Toldir looked every which way now, taking in his surrounding and looking down at his hands, gasping. He was slowing his breathing as he touched his face and looked at his hands. Now pale white, he felt with his own senses. He breathed deep, blinked hard, touched his robes, sucked in the air to taste it and flexed his muscles. Others did the same as they regained themselves. The Lich King turned to them.
"You are my champions. I've given you a new life, a new destiny. You are to be the ones to usher in a new generation of hatred and fear against the forces of the world and those who would fight against me."
"TO HELL WITH THAT!" one of them spoke. Immediately, all of them turned towards this female night elf that spoke out of turn, and suddenly Toldir felt threatened, ready to fight, ready to kill.
The night elf ran towards the Lich King at full speed but was knocked down by others blocking her way to him. She kicked and screamed and fought to try and fight against them. Others joined in for a feeble attempt at a rebellion, but the other denizens of the floating necropolis arrived and carried off those few who resisted and fought against the Lich King's will. Both the Lich King and the other initiates, including Toldir said nothing as they were taken away.
"For the rest of you, report to Instructor Razuvious to gather your weapons." The Lich King seemed to smirk underneath is large and ornate black helmet.
Toldir turned to follow the others, now walking on their own. He looked on to spy others watching them. Other death knights that weren't just the simple guards or craftsmen. They wore unique or solid saronite metal armor as they looked onto the initiates with disgust, curiosity, and laughter. Toldir saw a large human bathed in red-hued armor smirk and taunt a female blood elf in sickly-green armor. "One-thousand gold says that night elf kills half of the new blood. Hah!" He sneered. "Lord Thorval, you always made such stupid bets, it's too easy to take money from you." She snickered back as she crossed her arms. "You still keep me entertained Lady Alistra." He paused as Toldir passed and seemed to squint hard at him.
Instructor Razuvious was a large human man. He seemed to tower over most of the other denizens in the area. He wore bright glacier-colored armor, pointed yet slick. Toldir and the others gathered around him as he spoke. "Every single Death Knight in this necropolis fights as one with runeforged weapons. Weapons you will use to balance your powers of ice, blood, and unholy magics. Runeforging is where it all begins. I want each of you to gather a weapon from a corpse or a weapon rack and approach the forges to craft a rune onto your weapon of choice."
As the group broke apart, Toldir moved to grab weapons off the rack, but was pushed aside by a tauren and dwarf, who merely scoffed at him and chuckled. "Wait your turn…troll." The dwarf sneered, speaking a bit slowly. Unfazed, Toldir moved past the weapon racks and saw a large two-handed sword laying against the wall. He picked it up with one hand with ease, to his surprise, but still had to heft it with two hands to swing anything with it.
He attempted to move his lips and form words, almost as if speaking again for the first time. "Too…cum…ber…some…" he surprised himself but hefted it over his shoulder then brought it down on the ground. It was heavy, even for a strong troll like himself. He swung it again and moved to an open area to practice swinging it. "This…blade…is just…too heavy…." He sighed and leaned it up against the wall again and he moved to look inside the wagons nearby. Amidst the bodies were a pair of short sword Scourge blades. He picked them up and swung hard. They sang through the air as he held them fast. He struck out into the air, swinging back and forth.
"Now these….heh. These I can get behind." He spoke quicker now, words and his tongue finding purpose again as he started gaining more and more of his senses back. He felt good. Although he didn't remember much of his old life, he walked towards the runeforge. A large open-mouthed skull with blue flame flickered and spouted fire as he placed the weapons inside. He prodded and poked at them as the magic swirled around them, carving symbols and designs into each.
"The weapons are ready, the process doesn't take long." An airy yet shrill voice called out behind him. It was the skeletal smith from before. He reached in with his bare bone hands as Toldir looked on for a moment in shock as the skeleton placed the weapons in his hands, cool to the touch. Now bright blue, they were glowing with an unholy magic as he stepped away to find Razuvious.
"Now that you all have your weapons to control your power, you must undertake the task of satiating and feeding that power. There is a hunger inside each of you. A hunger that must be sated regularly. A need to kill and cause pain."
Razuvious walked over to the pit as they gathered around him. "Those…failed initiates…are what stands between you and living another day. You can sate your hunger or die by it. The choice is yours. Take their life or take your own by sacrificing it to the hunger." He pointed to them, as they were chained up with shadow chains in the nearby pit and held fast.
Once it came time for Toldir to step up, he looked towards Razuvious to step down into the pit. He could pick any of the remaining targets, scanning the enemies and saw the night elf female from before. He stepped over in front of her. He held the key to the Soul Prison as it leapt from his fingers into the key hole and dissipated the soul chains holding her. "Stand and fight, failure." Toldir spoke harshly. He had this anger building up, a raging feeling in his gut as he saw her gather herself. "I will destroy this hellhole, starting with you!" She barked at him, icy-blue eyes defiant even as they glowed blue from the unholy magic still within her. She donned the initiate armor and picked up a nearby two-handed axe.
Toldir wasn't immediately ready for her as she charged at him with such speed. He barely had enough time to block the large weapon as she bore it down on him. He gasped and sneered as he swung at her, catching her side. He skinned her side but didn't cut deep as she roared again, her own anger welling up inside her. She lunged this time and he side-stepped her and brought one sword down across her armored back, cutting through this time. In a rage she flung her weapon at him, spinning as he dodged, but didn't bring his weapons up fast enough to avoid catching her fist in his jaw. She hit hard enough to bruise, but not enough to crack. Toldir let go of one weapon and grabbed her wrist and twisted as she gasped, trying to break free. His grip hard on her wrist as he twisted it and she knelt to one knee, trying to maneuver out of his grip. Without a word, he pulled hard on her and made her lose her footing as he flung her on her back. He slammed his foot into her chest and squished the air out of her lungs as she gasped, and swung hard across her throat, spraying thick blood on the floor in a pool around her head.
He gritted his teeth at what he had done but felt good about it. He embraced his anger whole-heartedly. Razuvious and the others nodded in approval as he stepped away and some ghouls cleaned up the mess.
"Your initial tests are over for the day. Over the next week you'll follow one of the three paths set before you as a Master of Frost, Unholy, or Blood magics. We will resume training tomorrow as we gather more initiates throughout the day. You are dismissed." As Razuvious saluted, they all saluted back. Toldir was left to his thoughts as they all dispersed, and he took it upon himself to explore the lower level of the necropolis. A nearby teleporter transported him to the training grounds. Three separate areas converged in the middle, each representing a specialization of runic magic.
Toldir leaned up against a wall and slid down to sit on the cold ground, taking a deep breath. He thought about everything that had happened. His mind was fuzzy still. No memories, no anything. He took a moment to run his hands through his hair. Thick, dark blue dreadlocks still there between his troll ears. He pulled one down in front of his face to make sure it was even real. He looked to his left to see a large lich instructing disciples of frost as they trained against ghouls or skeletons.
"Ey mon! What'chu be doin' down 'ere, eh?" A large troll with a white mohawk smirked at him glad in the same armor as him. Toldir was puzzled at the troll, not sure what to say. "I..uh…just wanted some place to think." The other troll cocked his head to the side. "What happened to ya voice mon? Ya seemed ta have lost ya accent or something?" The troll laughed a hardy laugh, seemingly unfazed by all this. "Ah it don't matta, what mattas is we got each other now! I seen the way the other races look at us trolls, even in death! Bah!" The troll scoffed looking towards the teleporter, as if expecting one of them to walk through it at this very moment. "I know our mission is to destroy this…Scarlet Enclave, but beyond that I'm not really sure what we're supposed to be doing, so I'm just sitting here, thinking." Toldir looked back. "Ya be thinking too much mon. Dis place, dis power, it's all meant for da Lich King. An being dead permanently is a worse fate den dis. We have purpose! Embrace it!" The troll was a bit too happy for the situation they were in for Toldir's liking, but he didn't pay much attention to the troll after that. "Anyways, my name be Daz'lek." The troll outstretched his hand. "Tol-" He stopped for a moment, then looked back at him. "Neotoldir." He returned that handshake, and so the other troll moved on and continued about his day.
"Lost my accent?" Neotoldir thought hard about what this could mean, but he couldn't do much without any sort of knowing what went on. Perhaps in time it would return. Even though he didn't need it, the hunger had died down, the voice inside his head was quiet, and the throbbing in his head stopped, so he shut his eyes and attempted to rest.