Chapter 4: The Champions of the Scourge

"Go… Death Knight… Show your skills to Razuvious…" the Lich King instructed, "He will teach you…"

"Yes, my lord," Nordelei responded. He had once been a hero. Now in his black plate armor, standing in Archerus, he was a traitor. These thoughts prodded at his mind, but they could not penetrate. His eyes were blue and filled with hate. He walked with no emotion, only the craving for death.

He was no champion yet, considering he had only learned a few spells, none of them involving any weapon work. He stopped at Razuvious. He was twice the size of Nordelei, with short white hair, and silver armor.

"What do you want?" he asked Nordelei, almost spitting at him.

"I want to learn the ways of darkness," the apprentice answered nobly. It was actually a lie. Only the Lich King affected part of Nordelei wanted to learn the ways of the darkness. His real self, the one that was gone from him, was a controller of the light.

"To be a death knight," his instructor told him, "You must have a runeblade. Through it, a death knight controls the power of frost, blood, and the unholiness."

Pulling out a sword from a rack, he continued. "Take this blade," he said, handing it to Nordelei, "and reforge it with the runes of the Scourge."

Nordelei walked hurriedly to the runeforge and stuck the blade inside. He thought of the engraving he wanted on it. The rune of Razorice. He took his blade out, examining the glowing blue light emanating from it. He walked back to his trainer, showing the blade off to him. Even death knights could have arrogance.

The master shrugged, "I would've picked a different rune, but it's your choice."

He turned and started pacing, Nordelei following close behind. "We crave death. We will always have an everlasting hunger for it. The only way to curb that is death!" He said death very loudly, enough to draw a lot of attention to them. He handed Nordelei a key. "Take this," he said, even though Nordelei already figured out that he needed to take it. "Unlock the shackles of one of the failed initiates. Let them get a weapon and put on some armor. You shall have a mortal duel with them," he finished, with a smile on his face.

Nordelei walked to the circle of failed initiates. There were all kinds of races. Night elves, Drainei, Dwarves, Orcs, Goblins, and Taurens were just a few of them. Nordelei saw a sleeping troll and laughed. He would catch the troll completely off guard. He held his key up and started walking to the troll, when a fellow death knight stopped him.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he said to the once heroic death knight.

"Why not?" Nordelei asked.

"Rumors say that he is off his nutter," he explained, "People say that he went crazy during the initiation process."

Nordelei turned from the troll to a dwarf. He had the look that he had lost all hope. He was perfect. Nordelei unlatched the shackles from the dwarf's puny wrists. The dwarf, without a sound, put on the armor that was provided for him. He grabbed his axe and charged toward the challenger. Nordelei held his sword out in front of him. The dwarf couldn't stop the momentum he had, and went straight through the blade.

As the blood elf cleaned his weapon, the shackle key fell out of his pocket. That was all that the troll needed. He immediately grabbed the key with his foot, made a weird motion, and it flew into the air. It landed in the shackle keyhole, and he spun around. The shackles unlocked, and the troll ran past each of the death knights that tried to get in his way.

Nordelei had to admit, he was very graceful. He came to the ledge of Archerus, a 3,000 yard fall. As he swan-dived off, he simultaneously screamed, "Resdlen out!" Nordelei thought the idiot was a goner. He'd be dead before he hit the ground…

Resdlen screamed with joy as he fell. After 3 seconds he realized he was going to die. At the five second mark, he was screaming with fear. After seven seconds, he started to pray. After the praying ended he saw a little blip that was coming closer. It kind of looked like a grif…

He landed on a dwarf riding a griffin. The dwarf fell off and became a small blip in the distance. "Take that, you Alliance moss!" Resdlen screamed at the small bearded man. The griffin was confused and slightly startled, but it tried to continue its regular course. Resdlen wouldn't allow that, though. "C'mon, little woggers!" he screamed at the poor bird, and forcibly turned it toward the Barrens.

When he got there, he dismounted the bird, and it kicked Resdlen in the shins. As he crouched down, holding his shin in pain, he heard a nice beat. He started to dance a little. They were coming from drums, as far as he could tell. Then he started to do the voodoo shuffle. But he forgot something very important. Dancing attracts raptors.

Groose here! Was that not awesome? Don't deny its awesomeness. REVIEW!