Menethil Oathsworn
Chapter Three: Demon in a Bottle

Loghain lay there on the floor, his eye swelling at a rapid pace and turning a sickened shade of purple. Standing over him was a large and intimidating figure, the one responsible for the wound inflicted upon the young boy. "You… worthless sack of shit!" The man shouted as he slammed the bottle in his hand on the floor. Liquid sin began to spread on the floor, growing ever closer to the wounded lad. Even from his position on the floor, Loghain could tell that the man reeked of whiskey.

"Father, I -" Loghain began, but his sentence was quickly cut off by a sharp kick to his ribs.

"You are no son of mine!" Darren shouted as he leaned down towards the wounded boy. He grabbed him by the collar of his tunic and pulled him to his feet. "You have desecrated the Artius family name!" Again, before Loghain could offer a response, Darren threw his fist at him with all of his strength. Despite his drunken squalor, Darren was still a formidable paladin. The impact immediately sent Loghain sprawling to the floor.

Loghain tried to pull himself up, and he noticed two spectators in the background. Ajilahd, his younger brother, as well as Cailin, the youngest of the three, were watching the event unfolding in sheer horror. They were terrified, and Loghain knew he needed to do something about it. "I desecrated it?" he whispered, spitting blood onto the floor. "At least I'm not the one who smells of piss and whiskey, Father."

"You little -" Before Darren could continue, Loghain used his low position to sweep the old drunk's legs out from under him. He dropped to the floor with a thud, groaning in pain. Loghain took the time to pull himself up.

"The only embarrassment here is you," Loghain whispered as he grabbed his old man by the collar of his tunic. "The Light didn't choose me, and I don't know why. But if it chooses people like you, then I forsake it." He pushed him back down and turned towards Ajilahd and Cailin, who were cowering in the corner. "I'm leaving. But if he lays a hand on either of you…"

"Loghain…" Ajilahd whispered, tears streaming down his face. "Where will you go?"

"Where I'm needed." With that, Loghain left the coughing drunkard and his cherished siblings behind. For what, he didn't know. But even he could feel something change within him. It was almost as if he was issued a challenge. "When the Light fails to protect the innocent," he muttered to himself as he stepped out into the torrential Lordaeron rain, "I will be there to avenge the fallen."


Uther was awoken by the sound of pounding on his door. The paladin had some difficulty falling asleep, as he felt grimy after the discussion he had with Loghain earlier. Because of this, he was less than thrilled to be awoken at the break of dawn. He swung the door open to reveal Prince Arthas Menethil, newly appointed Paladin of the Silver Hand. "This is your fault," Arthas grunted as he pushed his way inside.

"Morning, Arthas," Uther said, his voice full of venom. "I'm fantastic, thanks for asking."

"Spare me," the Prince stated, his tone irritating the elder paladin. "Darren has just put in a request to strip Loghain of all his rights and privileges as a member of House Artius. Father has no choice but to accept it. According to Ajilahd, Darren assaulted him last night for failing to join the Silver Hand."

"I'm sorry, what?" Uther exclaimed, shaking his head in surprise. "Darren is out of his damn mind!"

"Loghain was more just and vigilant than all of us, Uther, and you know it," Arthas hissed. "And now he's gone. How the hell are we going to fix this?"

"He can't be far, Arthas," Uther assured him. "Hell, he's probably still in the Capital. He wouldn't leave Ajilahd and Cailin to weather the wrath of their drunken father alone. He's probably nearby. We find him and…"

"And? And what, Uther?" Arthas interjected. "Stripped of his titles and disowned by his family. He's worse than lowborn, Uther. What could we possibly do for him?"

"We can figure that out when we find him, Arthas," Uther said, silencing the prince. "Right now, we need to get to him before he does something he regrets."

"If he has… this is on you, Uther," Arthas grumbled. Uther didn't offer a response, primarily because he felt as if his pupil was right.


"Can I get you anything to drink?" the bartender asked as Loghain took a seat. The young warrior gazed at the wall of liquor in a trance of hatred. It was then that he promised himself that he would never succumb to the liquid poison that his father had consumed so willingly.

"Water," Loghain replied sharply, breaking his stare at the wide array of different alcohol provided by the tavern. The bartender nodded and pulled out a mug.

"Long day?" the older man commented as he poured the drink. Loghain silently nodded, and the bartender grunted. "You're far too young to be having those, boy."

"Let's call it the first of many," Loghain answered as he took the mug from the bartender. "Don't suppose you know of any job openings?"

"Unless you want to become a hired blade, I'm afraid I don't have anything worthy of mention," he said while accepting the coin offered by Loghain.

"I think I'm going to have to pass on-" Before he could finish, the door to the tavern swung open with a loud thud. Two Lordaeron Guardsmen walked towards the bar, and the bartender went to go serve them. He couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, but when they held up a piece of parchment, Loghain instinctively reached for the blade on his hip. The bartender looked at the parchment and then pointed directly at him. Immediately, Loghain stood up and pushed his stool out, making his way towards the exit.

"Hey." The word was loud enough to stop Loghain in his tracks. "Are you Loghain Artius?" the guardsmen on the left asked as he turned around slowly.

"'Fraid not," Loghain replied with a grin. The guards didn't find it amusing. "Hey, you can't fault me, gentlemen. Last I heard, I was stripped of my name."

"Then you've also heard you're wanted for the assault of Lord Darren Artius," the guard on the right said, this time him bearing the grin. Loghain's face contorted into a frown. "Yer old man is pressing charges, boy. And yer not a noble. So that means -"

"I'm quite aware of the implications, guardsmen," he interrupted, his knuckles turning white as his grip strengthened around the hilt of the blade on his hip. "Tell you what. I'm going to walk out that door. You'll forget you saw me. We'll call it a day."

The two guards looked at each other with a smirk on their faces. "I don't think so, lad," the left guardsmen said as he slowly approached Loghain. "Don't make this difficult. We'd hate to bring your father a corpse in chains."

"Believe me. You won't," the young warrior threatened as he drew his blade. Both of them drew theirs in response. Neither side seemed particularly inclined to make the first move. So, when the door to the tavern burst open once again, all three of them were slightly relieved.

"Stand down, guardsmen!" bellowed the commanding voice of Lord Uther the Lightbringer. It felt as if the very walls of the tavern were shaking. "Young Loghain here is to be taken into my custody. Tell Lord Darren that you will return empty handed. Am I understood?"

"Sir!" they both shouted, jumping to a salute before quickly dashing out of the tavern.

"Thank the Light you showed up when you did," Loghain sighed as he sheathed his sword. "The idea of incapacitating two members of the guard was not one I was particularly fond of."

"It'd be significantly harder to worm your way out of that," Uther nodded, placing a hand on Loghain's shoulder. "Look, boy, I'm sorry about -"

"Save it, Uther," Loghain interjected. "You have nothing to apologize for. The Light selects its champions. It appears as if I was not worthy. I can hardly pin that on you."

Uther shook his head. "You deserved so much better than what Darren placed on you, boy. Not being championed by the Light doesn't make you unworthy. Only drunken zealots like your father believe that nonsense." Uther cleared his throat. "But answer me this, Loghain. Why the hell are you in a tavern?"

"Looking for work," Loghain admitted sheepishly. "Figured this was the best place for a skilled lowborn combatant to find a way to make coin."

"Well, it's a sure fire way to get arrested, that's for sure," Uther replied with a hearty laugh. "Most of the sellswords that come out of here usually end up dead or in chains. Usually by me."

"Glad it didn't come to that," Loghain muttered softly. "So what now? Time to take me in chains to King Terenas?"

"No and yes," Uther continued. "The chains are unnecessary. But King Terenas would like to speak to you. Arthas has been working tirelessly since Ajilahd informed him of what transpired in order to return your status as nobility. I suppose we'll see the fruit of his efforts when we arrive at the castle."

"Why would Arthas give a damn about my title of nobility?" Loghain asked.

"You trained together. You were forged in the fires of combat, even if it was mock," Uther explained quickly. "I had to talk him out of removing Darren's throat after he told me what happened. I'm no expert, boy, but I'd wager that perhaps he gives a damn about you."

Loghain silently nodded as he made his way towards the door. Uther followed closely in pursuit, and the two of them made a swift exit towards the center of Lordaeron.


"I wanted to see him fight," groaned Doramun, as the two of them left the tavern. Harbinger sat next to him, periodically taking sips of the human liquor. "Those two guards wouldn't have stood a chance against him."

"It's better that he didn't," Harbinger said in between sips. "It shows restraint and an appreciation for human life. I'd be more concerned if he went down the path of violence."

"Concerned? Perhaps. Amused? Undoubtedly," Doramun hissed as he licked his lips. "Though your prediction about Darren proved to be correct. In fact, his drunken stupor appears to be the primary… motivation behind our hero now."

"An unintended side effect," Harbinger mused as she swished the alcohol in her glass. "Though I suppose it helps that we can assure Loghain will remain sober in his travels. A drunk hero is useless to us."


Note: In case anyone is wondering, Loghain is 19 years old at this time, as is Arthas. Finding information on timelines is rather difficult, but the Third War is about 6 - 7 years away, I'd wager.