Chapter Three: Masters of Fate

A human in the land of the dead, in the hands of a troll. Yeah, I was so much worse than dead. It wasn't even funny how I'd ended up in a situation where if I ran too far from this troll, I'd end up completely unable to move. I was under whatever spell she had caste on me, and I had no idea how to free myself. This troll was either going to get us stuck on a loop, or get me turned into one of the undead.

No, seriously, that was her goal. She apparently thought she was hilarious.

As we walked on, there was a certain eeriness to the area. The purple lights glowed around the path and we went through a covered bridge with a what I was sure was a carved skull on it and something called a gnath under it that I never actually got to saw. Just its name and health meter. I had a feeling that I needed to keep that sight. I might get a headache, but I wouldn't be caught off guard.

We were almost run over by a subdued forest ettin. Then we ran into a place where worgen and undead were fighting practically in the middle of the road. I apparently amused the hell out of the troll when I jumped and practically clung to her on seeing them.

"Well, well, what's wrong sweets? Don't you like you're worgen brethren? I would have thought you'd run to them in some forgetful idiotic chance they could save you from me," Tzara said, bringing me close to her in a parody of a hug. I felt a tingle of warning run through the hand that instinctively went to the knife at my side. The troll's face wrinkled as a wicked smiled split her lips.

"I wonder, maybe I should find a nice worgen to hold you in front of. There's got to be some way to infect you," Tzara held my chin and I felt myself tremble a little, but then she sighed. "Though then you'd still be Alliance, and what fun would that be? I've already got little gnome helper. No, I think the undead look would suit you much better."

I felt the blood leave my face and tripped along as the stupid troll pulled me. I definitely did not want to be undead, and I very much doubted that I could be. I mean, that would break the new rules of Azeroth I was pretty sure. Yet the troll just smiled widely and dragged me behind her. She paused momentarily, looking toward a ditch where Dark Rangers and Catapults protected it, though what was there. I didn't know, but we moved even from that. Walking even past the gates of the Silverpine Forest, leaving more putrid green slime to be pumped into the air. And yes, the smell did actually make me gag.

Thankfully we didn't head inside Undercity. Instead, we turned left and walked into a field littered with trees and really boring huge bats and blue dogs. Yeah, that wasn't what it was called, but I expected so much more. That was why I started panicking and trying everything I could to get out of the troll's hold. Not because I was scared. There was no way for the psychotic troll to turn me undead, I didn't think. I was pretty sure her investment had been in seeing if her spell book would work on me, not in exploring what she could do once she had me. Now I wondered if she didn't hold onto me with cackling laughter simply because she didn't want me to knock myself silly by going too far from her and having the spell catch me.

We entered what could only be the undead training grounds then. Dreadguards watched us, obviously wondering what I was. I mean, my profile, clear as day, marked me as belonging to Tzara, but I definitely wasn't some sort of weird pet. One I was way too big, second Tzara had her own Drool out. Casually taking out beer and downing them when she felt I was in enough control. Some nutcase yelled at us about money, a bit hard to understand him when he was yelling through what sounded like a broken jaw and rattling teeth.

We continued on. The lampposts now glowed green instead of purple, and I was afraid the training grounds would be as dreadfully boring as the rest of this place was until we entered a small town where skeletons and ghouls roamed. Not completely shocking, I was surprised how many Forsaken seemed to be mindlessly wandering around, no thoughts in their heads. Tzara leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"Not everyone is reborn survives. Sometimes the mind is unable to return with the body and you get these mindless creatures," Tzara whispered. I shivered. Bad enough to brought back into a body that was decaying, worse to lose yourself and become rotting beast. Of course, these were the most common, but the Forsaken, through some will actually were able to think, to use their mind and interact with the world around them in a conscious way.

We then went past a couple of Dreadgaurds to a city where apparently the undead with clear and sharp minds were brought to teach new recruits to work and fight in their decaying bodies. Infusing their waking minds with the skills and beliefs of violence and a love for their leader Sylvanus.

"And here are the Deathknell Graves," the troll whispered in my ears as a Forsaken adventurer past us with an imp at his heels. Tzara then proceeded to throw me bodily toward the grates, cackling as I stumbled. I looked around, glanced back at the shaman, who just lifted an eyebrow, as if daring me to try and run away again. I just glared at her, looking around and hoping that the mindless zombies wouldn't bite me. "You're pathetic."

"Drop dead," I hissed. The troll rolled her eyes and turned her back on me. I tried to go for the daggers at my side.

"Yo, Arthura!" shouted the troll as she turned to one of the val'kyr that was hovering around. I watched the thing uneasily, not liking the glow or how the two things circled round and round. Tzara chased them around for a while, looking rather ridiculous. I kept getting strange looks from the Forsaken that the val'kyr brought up. Once in a while it was another mindless one, but then there were the ones that seemed indignant about being raised from the dead and actually appeared to will themselves dead again. I sat with my back against a gravestone and just watched as the carnival I continued, and couldn't help but wonder that if Tzara somehow did get me to come back as a corpse if I would have the will to do that to myself.

Really, for a graveyard, the Deathknell was very active. There were undead being born, with ranges from mindless violence, suicide, complete mental breakdown, to refuse to believe they were dead, and complete acceptance. There were Forsaken that came to ask for new parts, jaws and the like from those still in the grave. It was all rather fascinating and wonderful. I found myself next to the one stitching Undead together. I didn't dare actually try to dissect the Undead around me, but I did watch as the Undead's jaw got stitched together.

"Damn," said Tzara, coming to stand next to me and glaring up at where Arthura was still circling around. "I can't get either of their attention. I should have known."

"Known?" I asked without thinking. The Forsaken giving out new jaws glanced our way before returning his attention to his work.

"Yes, technically she sacrificed herself for Lady Sylvanas over in Silverpine Forest. So she's not only looped for death, but she's a looped character who still has to interact with the outside world," Tzara huffed in disgust as she watched Arthura's flight.

"Her sacrifice was noble," said Undertaker Mordo, talking reverently with the most normal sounding voice imaginable. It was just wrong on so many levels. He should have a growly, death rattling voice. Instead he sounded like any man put to a task he only did because his master said it needed to be done. "The greatest honor any of us would wish."

"Urg," the troll complained, making an unattractive face. "Right, that's why I don't hang around the Forsaken. It's like they cloned my sister's mind and then put her in undead bodies."

The Undertaker gave her an unimpressed scowl. "Is there a reason you are here with your pet, troll?"

"I wanted to transform her," said Tzara with a wicked smile as she brought me up next to her and pinched my cheeks. "She's lovely this way, but it tends to create a bit of a fuss when I try to take her anywhere crowded. They keep trying to murder her and it gets old. I was hoping to give her an undead makeover."

The Undertaker shook his head. "Not possible," he growled. Tzara opened her mouth, obviously ready to tell him why it would be a good idea, but the Undertaker just lifted a hand as if asking for peace. "It doesn't work now, and her body isn't nearly as decayed as it is needed."

"I'm pretty sure I've seen new dead people be reborn," said Tzara. "And what about these graves?"

"They're bodies from before," said the Undertaker. "Supposedly."

"Supposedly?" asked Tzara. The Undertaker sighed.

"Sometimes their past seems to be born with them," said the Undertaker, watching as another potential Forsaken was born. "The only way to become Undead once you have been a part of this world is to enter into the very structure of it, as I have."

As if to clarify what he meant when he said that, the Forsaken that had been coming for a new jaw returned again and the Undertaker gave him another new jaw.

"Does he even know he's looped?" I asked.

"No," said the Undertaker, then he turned to the troll again. "Why would you want to turn her into a Forsaken anyway? If she becomes one of the Undead under the val'kyr, then she will be under the hold of Sylvanas and not you."

Tzara sighed and groaned as she let her head fall back on a grave. I watched her, completely unimpressed with how stupid the shaman that had caught me was. I hoped that my expression got across how right I had been. I mean, obviously doing something like this would make us looped.

I then quickly jumped away from her as lightning danced at her fingertips and she smirked in my direction. I even tried to hide behind the Undertaker.

"Come on, you can't change me, not without looping me," I said, continuing to keep the Undertaker between me and her. "We're lucky you haven't looped us yet. So let me go. My friends in the Alliance will be coming to get me soon."

"You don't have friends. You don't even have a guild," said the troll, throwing a ball of lightning in the air as she lazily circled us.

"Just because I don't have a guild, doesn't mean I have friends," I snapped. "You don't have a guild."

"And how do you know I don't have a guild?" asked Tzara. I went to snap an answer, but realized that I just knew that Tzara had no guild and no friends either. No one would look for her either if something terrible happened. Well, perhaps her sister, and somehow I didn't think that claiming an imaginary family at this point would go over as well as claiming friends.

"Plus, would the Alliance even take you back?" asked the Undertaker.

"Why wouldn't it?" I asked, looking at the Undertaker in irritation.

"You aren't trying very hard to get away from her," he said. I blushed, I had tried to get away from Tzara. I turned to defend myself, not even entirely sure what I would say when a lightning bolt took me in the back, and I found myself falling to the ground and my eyes opening into a world of shades. I stomped my way back into the field. I glared at them, watching as the Undertaker took on his role as a quest giver and stitches to the looped even as he chatted with Tzara, though I didn't care what they were actually saying to each other.

I instead stood in the shade world close enough to my body to see the shades of people, and even the nagging knowledge that I could spawn if I wanted. I glanced to the Forsaken next to me. Another Forsaken, a looped creature name Caretaker Caice. And then I just got angry. Really, really angry, and all I could think was that I wanted to destroy something and since this Forsaken was low level, I decided that, well, if I couldn't temporarily kill the Horde member that I wanted to, I could do kill another. Even if it caused me pain, it would be worth it. Pain was something I was very familiar with.

When I spawned, it only took moments to reapply my poison and take the killing swing at the Undead caretaker. I didn't even knick him. I passed him completely through him, and he hardly even spared me a glance. I looked at my daggers, then the space between us, and then try again viciously swiping at the Caretaker. Eventually he grabbed my arm. "Yes?" he drawled.

"What are you doing Sweets?" asked the troll. I turned to see Tzara strolling toward me. The Undertaker watched but didn't go toward her or release his grip on my arm. I hoped that since he was looped his feet were virtually glued to the ground.

"Is this," the Caretaker paused and looked up at where my name was visible, "Meranlie yours?"

"Yup," said the troll, not moving to take me from his grip, just staring at us with that stupid grin.

"And you didn't stop her?" he asked.

"Stop her from what?" asked Tzara, and this time she looked at me as she answered. "Being less annoying than a gnat? She couldn't even touch you."

I let out a feral snarl, but thankfully was not the only one unimpressed with the troll's response since the Caretaker also curled what was left of his lip in disgust.

"I loathe you," he said with venom and wrenched my arm as he threw me at Tzara. The troll easily caught me, that irritating grin never leaving her face. She gave a mock salute to the man and started to march me out of the graveyard.

"Come visit again," said the Undertaker. I turned back as Tzara continued to pull me away, but I couldn't see his expression to tell if he was being sarcastic. The Caretaker seemed to have already forgotten about us and was staring out with a glassy expression out into nothing.

The stupid troll pulled me further and further away. Back toward the Tiristal Glades. When we made it back through the gates, I was finally able to wrench myself from her grip. A phantom tingling sensation warning me what would happen if I dared to be any rougher with the troll. I gripped my teeth and snarled, taking a slow step away from her. Not far, as if there were a hundred weighted metals attached to my legs.

"Why continue this? You failed. You couldn't do the worst to me. You can't even loop me without looping yourself, so what exactly is your plan?" I demanded, almost screaming near the end as I felt my body tense with anger.

"Worst I can do?" asked Tzara, her face evening out though there continued to be hint of a smile in her red eyes. The troll walked toward me, gait swaying as she sauntered my way. I started to back away from her. The way she was acting was sending a sensation of fear up my spine.

"Stop," Tzara demanded, the smile disappearing for a moment. It felt like my legs had been tied to the ground, weights added so heavy that I couldn't dream of even trying to take another step. Instead, I became a pathetic shaking mess as the troll reached me, her naked fingers gripping my forearm and cheek. There was the brief sensation of electricity against my skin as Tzara caressed me, and then she dug in. Her fingers sinking in slowly up to her knuckle as my blood started to run in a beads and then a thin river down her hand and soak into her bracers.

"Really, the worse I can do is turn you into one of the Forsaken or loop you?" asked Tzara. She chuckled and moved her hand, like she was going to rip down the skin of my arms and face. My health meter ticked down drop by drop, as I continued to shake in fear. "You have no imagination and are so young."

The troll actually sounded angry, even as she chuckled. Then she pulled out, sharp pain drawing out a gasp of pain and red blood throwing staining my shirt. I raised a hand to where the wounds were rapidly closing, the blood that had started to drip down my cheek soon the only proof of what the troll had done. The troll then drew me into the hug. I felt my body tense up, waiting for pain to light up as she ripped into my body. Instead she rested her chin on the top of my head, and hummed a line or two of a lullaby.

"So, what are you going to do instead?" I asked with a stuttering breath. "Going to rip me up again and again? Going to see what makes a human tick?"

"Is that what you were doing so far into Forsaken land?" asked Tzara, her voice soft and calming. "Do you like ripping things apart to find out how they tick?"

The troll laughed when I pushed her away. Letting me go. I crashed down to the ground, body spasming in pain. I looked up at her as the attack slowly stopped, glaring up at her.

"You're going to damn us," I hissed at her, arms wrapped around my body.

"We haven't been looped yet," said the troll, crouching down beside me. "And isn't life more interesting now that something is actually happened? Now come on. While I think of something else to do, I might as well get that book written down again, and since I used all of your paper. I need to go get some more of my own."

"My paper?" I asked, sitting up. The troll rolled her eyes and grabbed me by the hair and forced me to stand.

"Well yeah, I told you that I had access to your bags right?" Tzara said. It might have ridiculous considering everything else that had happened. But I definitely didn't want this stupid troll to have access to anything of mine. Tzara just rolled her eyes at me and started down the path again, sure I would follow. I was tempted to just stand there glaring at her, but then the troll would either let me fall in pain and pick me up or she would kill me and drag my body away until I respawned.

Instead, I ended up not only following her on my own but also walking right next to her because I didn't want to be harassed by passing Horde members. Tzara watched me in interest, and even smirked when I came to stand at her shoulder as they went over another covered bridge as Tzara seemed to have given up going the short way and was now following the path again.

"Welcome to Brill," she whispered as we entered a Forsaken town. I took it all in slowly. It wasn't nearly as morbid or disgusting as I had hoped, but the almost normality of it against a darkening sky seemed to throw forward everything unnatural about it. I jumped a little as a bat screeched, apparently stretching its huge wings as it waited upside down while it waited for someone who needed its services to take them to another zone or area. I wondered if all Horde flying masters used bats as their way around. I couldn't remember at the moment if I had seen a Horde member flying on the back of a barrowed mount before today.

Further into Brill appeared to be where some sort of experiment was happening currents of blue electricity going up, making a popping aggressive hiss on its way. At a table nearby two Forsaken glanced up from their bubbling potions, and at the next an apparent first aid trainer showed an adventurer how to create linen bandages next to a stinking, rotting, ogre corpse.

"Keep up," hissed Tzara, and headed inside one of the buildings where a Forsaken named Innkeeper Renee shouted incomprehensibly at up while pointing to me. Tzara just smiled and held up her hands, palms forward but not sending me outside. I was tempted to run out anyway, not wanting to get attacked, remembering how the Dreadgaurd held me in his grasp so easily. I wondered if I shouldn't go outside despite Tzara's lack of concern, or maybe partially because of it. When the troll's hand wrapped around my forearms and dragged me forward with her.

"Hello Abigail Shiel," said Tzara.

"What now?" snapped the vendor thickly. Most of the skin around her lips and even nose had been eaten away to reveal dark, festering mold, and her yellow eyes shinned out like spotlights from her decaying, purple flesh.

"I'm looking for parchment," said Tzara easily. The vendor reached out, and in her almost claw like grip appeared light parchment. I snorted. I might not be very advanced myself in inscription, but that was the weakest and hardest kind of parchment to work with. Tzara glanced my way. "What's wrong with this, Sweets?"

"Nothing is wrong with my parchment," snapped the vendor, the bones in her elbows clicking in agitation as she tried to glare me down. "Why are you even listening to this stupid Alliance slave?"

"She's not a slave. She's my pet, and she knows far more about parchment then I do," said Tzara, hardly paying attention, eyes only for the parchment. She turned to me. "Well Sweets, why shouldn't I buy this?"

"Because it's weak," I answered before my brain could catch up with my training to answer these types of questions without thinking. "When I had to use it, the paper would always almost crumble under my fingers while I was working."

"My goods are not sloppy," hissed the vendor. I snorted.

"I didn't say they were, but I know that kind of parchment is not made for delicate scripts."

"You aren't going to buy this crap from a filthy human?" snarled the vendor and Tzara shrugged.

"Thank you, Abigail, but I think I need slightly higher quality of wares. Is there anyone in Undercity you would recommend?" asked Tzara pleasantly. The Undead woman practically growled.

"Get out of here Alliance lover," hissed the vendor. Before I could blink Tzara's amiable smile had disappeared and Abigail's skin was moving unnaturally under the troll's fingers as the troll held the vendor's neck in a tight grip, almost lifting the Forsaken vendor up by her throat.

"I'd be careful what I said, Abigail. You were once a filthy human yourself, and I'm starting to wonder if you wouldn't look better with all your innards strewn across this room," hissed the troll with one of her more feral grins. The Forsaken woman struggled uselessly in the troll's grip, snarling.

"If you do that then you'll have every forsaken from here to the Undercity gunning for your death," the vendor snarled, but Tzara's smile just widened.

"Now that sounds like fun," the troll hissed.

"Get out of my inn!" shouted the Innkeeper. Tzara glanced her way, but instead of getting angry, her smile smoothed out to something kinder and she let the vendor go.

"Come on Sweets," said Tzara, guiding me out. As we walked out of the town, the troll slung an arm over my shoulder.

"This would probably be easier if you didn't have me out with you," I pointed out. I almost hoped that if I could be dismissed like a common pet, I could able to forget and sleep away most of this nightmare.

"Probably, but I can't banish you away like my other pets," said Tzara, I gulped and looked at her, not sure if I liked that fact or not. "Don't worry, you shouldn't be attacked, you even are marked as part of the Horde now."

"What?" I demanded and the troll laughed, throwing her head back.

"Oh, calm down my little rogue. If you behave we'll see about finding an almost catatonic looped Undead and see if we can't get you close enough to study to your heart's content, though I'm afraid even almost catatonic you won't be able to dissect," whispered Tzara. I pulled back to contradict her, but she just pushed back a strand of my hair and drew me up for another hug. I felt my breath catch a little as her fang rested against my cheek as she pushed our heads so we were cheek to cheek. Perhaps it was better to just go with it for the moment. The more she trusted me, the more I could learn about this situation, and maybe she would let it slip how I could be free of her once and for all.